Centennial Story 4: John C. Field (PhD, 2004)

I began my fisheries career in Santa Cruz, California, when I took a night job as a deckhand on a local fishing boat while also taking a course in biological oceanography from the University of California Santa Cruz.  The course included a section on climate variability and the impact on fisheries resources, with a focus on the classic story of the rise and fall of both the California sardine fishery and the Peruvian anchoveta fishery.  The fishing boat was called “La Dulce Vita,” and the captain was a 70-year-old Italian fisherman who had experienced the collapse, as well as the then nascent recovery, of the California sardine firsthand.  These combined perspectives set the hook in me for a career in fisheries science and management, and the fisheries biologists to whom I talked made it clear that the University of Washington was the best place to start to pursue such a career.

John Field kissing a “king-of-the-salmon” (Trachipterus altivelis) on a West Coast bottom trawl survey, 2000.

Arthur McEvoy’s classic book, “The Fisherman’s Problem,” had inspired me to better understand how fishery science informed fisheries management, and thus I started at the School of Marine Affairs, with a plan to keep a hand in science by working with Bob Francis at SAFS on a paleoecology project that he and PhD student Diego Holmgren were just launching.  The following summer Bob arranged for a whirlwind of field work throughout Alaska to search for other potential sites for similar work.  With a small gravity coring tool, I joined a Gulf of Alaska bottom trawl survey to core Pavlof Bay and spent a week gillnetting sockeye on the Port Moller test fishery to sample nearby Herendeen Bay. I also worked on a halibut longliner out of Kodiak Island, sampling several promising bays and inlets in between setting and retrieving the gear.  Although none of our locations ultimately proved promising, it was amazing to have the chance to use so many different types of fieldwork in some of the most beautiful and productive waters on the planet.

My curriculum at the time was a joint program comprised of fisheries science and fisheries management and included the FISH 456/457/458 series (with Gunderson, Schwartzman, and Hilborn, respectively) as well as several case studies in fisheries management led by Ellen Pikitch and Bob Francis.  After completing that program, I went a very different direction and completed a Knauss Sea Grant fellowship in Washington, DC. That experience put me squarely at the intersection of science and policy.  We held hearings on implementation of the 1996 Sustainable Fisheries Act, on the collapse of West Coast groundfish populations, and on the West Coast dungeness crab fishery.  As I wrapped up my year on Capitol Hill, the Ecosystem Principles Advisory Panel (EPAP) produced a report on ecosystem-based fisheries management that had been requested by Congress in the Sustainable Fisheries Act, and which included Bob Francis and Chair Dave Fluharty (SMA) among the panel members.  Although my master’s degree had given me a taste of fisheries science and modeling, the report inspired me to go back for more, and I lined up a project working with Bob to accomplish many of the recommendations of the EPAP report for the fisheries of the California Current.

I was very fortunate to start this work just as Kerim Aydin (PhD, 2000) was finishing his dissertation research and starting a comparable analysis at the Alaska Fisheries Science Center.  He was a pillar of sanity in the otherwise nearly absurd effort to condense such a complex and dynamic ecosystem into a modest set of bioenergetics and food habits matrices.  Vera Agostini began her dissertation research in the Francis lab in the same year, with the objective of better understanding the drivers of variable productivity and distribution of Pacific sardine and Pacific hake.  We both took the opportunity to complete not only our SAFS courses, but also classic courses in the School of Oceanography, such as Barbara Hickey’s course in the Oceanography of the California Current and Bruce Frost’s Biological Oceanography.  As for my research, my fieldwork took place in the library, where the deep dive into decades of literature became a fascinating journey through all of the components of this complex ecosystem.

Rewarding as that was, ultimately one needs a job, and an opportunity arose at the Southwest Fishery Science Center (SWFSC) in Santa Cruz, in their new lab built just over a mile from where I grew up.  I joined Steve Ralston (SAFS PhD, 1981) and others in Santa Cruz to develop stock assessments of West Coast groundfish. Presently, I’m a member of the Scientific and Statistical Committee of the Pacific Fishery Management Council, with no small number of other SAFS alums and affiliates.  I continue to support groundfish stock assessments, as well as run the SWFSC’s Rockfish Recruitment and Ecosystem Assessment Survey.  The dedication and support of SAFS faculty and my fellow students, as well as those of the School of Marine Affairs and School of Oceanography, gave me a foundation of knowledge and abilities that would have been nearly impossible to find elsewhere, and it is particularly rewarding to stay in touch with my fellow SAFS alums who continue working successfully throughout academic, agency, and management arenas.

 


Centennial Story 3: Anne B. Hollowed (PhD 1990)

Throughout my career, I have been fortunate to have maintained close ties with SAFS. In 1990, I graduated from SAFS with a PhD, and found a position with the National Marine Fisheries Service (NMFS) in Seattle.  This gave me the opportunity to witness the impact of SAFS on fisheries science throughout the world over the last 30 years.

Anne Hollowed

As an employee of the Northwest and Alaska Fisheries Science Center in the 1980s, I was assigned to work with Kevin Bailey and Robert (Bob) Francis. What a wonderful pair of mentors those two were. I watched as they wrote proposals to develop integrated fisheries oceanographic research with Gordy Swartzman and Warren Wooster. In 1986, Bob left NMFS to serve as director of the Fisheries Research Institute within SAFS, a career change that unleashed his creative approach to fisheries science. The following year, Ray Hilborn joined SAFS, bringing new energy to the School. I recall how much fun these key people had working together. The work that they did, and the students they inspired, have left a lasting legacy.

The late 1980s and 1990s were exciting times to be a graduate student in fisheries science. Amendments to the Magnuson-Stevens Fishery Conservation and Management Act were being considered, and when the Act was reauthorized in 1996, the precautionary principle was established as the foundation for sustainable fisheries management. Fisheries oceanography was also emerging as an interdisciplinary field that bridged applied science, oceanography, and marine ecology. The big three quantitative fisheries courses (557, 558, and 559) at SAFS were part of the curriculum, and we all spent long hours deriving equations. Although the coursework was challenging, this training provided us with the foundation needed to develop innovations in stock assessment and ecosystem modeling.

New partnerships were being formed between the NOAA and the UW to study fisheries oceanography.  When I arrived, the Fisheries Oceanography Coordinated Investigations (FOCI) program had been formed as a partnership between the NOAA and the UW. My major professor, Warren Wooster, sought to formally bridge the gap between fisheries policy, fisheries management, fisheries science, meteorology, and oceanography  He worked with Karl Banse (Oceanography), Bob Francis, and Don Gunderson to develop an interdisciplinary seminar course. Many of us can trace the origins of our thesis projects to that seminar series. The interdisciplinary collaborations encouraged by the UW led to renewed partnerships among the three schools that resulted in important discoveries about the role of climate variability on marine fish stocks.

The professors of today share that same integrative, collaborative view of fisheries science. While many of the faces have changed, the energy remains. It is heartening to realize that the interdisciplinary approach to scientific investigation within SAFS continues to prepare young scientists to address some of the most challenging ecological and social questions of our time. The partnerships between SAFS and NOAA continue to benefit natural resources, each organization, and the public. It is joy to still be a part of it.

Collectively, SAFS professors, students, and graduates form a knowledge network that extends all over the world. You can find us working with our international research partners or fostering scientific exchange through leadership within international marine science organizations. In my class alone, my classmates now work in Asia, Australia, Europe, and South America. As the next generation of graduate students endeavors to assess human impacts within the social-ecological marine system, I expect that SAFS will play a key role in preparing them to tackle the complex questions facing the future.


Centennial Story 2: William G. Clark (PhD, 1975)

In 1969, I had a degree in economics and mathematics from the University of Michigan, but what I really wanted to do was to go to graduate school and build computer models of marine ecosystems. I interviewed at a number of oceanography departments, and they all turned me down because I didn’t have any undergraduate credits in biology. UW was my last stop. Tom English interviewed me and, not surprisingly, said I didn’t have a chance of getting into the oceanography department. “But,” he said with only a hint of condescension, “Fisheries might take you.”

Bill Clark and Gary Stauffer (PhD, 1973) at sea in the 1990s

And Fisheries did. Jerry Paulik took me into the newly formed Center for Quantitative Science, where he, Doug Chapman, Brian Rothschild, and Don McCaughran taught courses in population dynamics and the like. It was just the kind of program I was looking for. There was a strong group of graduate students in the program, including Gary Stauffer, Jim Balsiger, Bill Fox, Tim Smith, and Gary Morishima. Bill Lenarz and Chuck Fowler had completed their graduate degrees recently.

Quantitative fishery science was at an early stage in 1969. Computers were primitive, and computer time was expensive.  The quasi-Newton methods of numerical minimization that we all use today to fit models had not yet been devised, to say nothing of automatic differentiation. My doctoral dissertation was a VPA of the Peruvian anchoveta fishery. I got a PhD for doing a VPA. It was state of the art. Imagine that.

My dissertation research in Peru had been arranged by Jerry Paulik and done under the auspices of the FAO development project there, which in turn led to a job at FAO headquarters in Rome for four years with John Gulland and Luit Boerema and other great people. I returned to UW in 1979 when Doug Chapman recruited me for a research faculty position doing assessments of great whales. I also did some teaching (including Fish 558, where one of my students was Ana Parma). On Don Bevan’s recommendation, I served as the technical advisor to the federal court in the Boldt case. After that, in the mid-1980s, I moved to work for the state of Washington, where I did a lot of line management, but also sat on the scientific committees of both the Pacific and North Pacific Fishery Management Councils. I returned to technical work in 1988 when Don McCaughran hired me as staff biometrician at the IPHC.

When I first sat on the regional fishery management councils’ scientific committees in the mid-1980s, modern age-structured, numerically fitted stock assessments had just been developed. But, only a couple of stocks were actually assessed that way. Part of the problem was a dearth of age data, but more important was a dearth of people who could handle the statistical and computational demands. There weren’t many who could, and I wasn’t one of them. Fortunately, I was working at the IPHC with Pat Sullivan and Ana Parma, who had just completed PhDs at SAFS and moved in the orbit of Dave Fournier, Ray Hilborn, Carl Walters, André Punt, and Jim Ianelli. That same army supplied the present generation of highly capable people who are doing the state-of-the-art stock assessments for Alaska and the West Coast today.

I am retired now, but I still go to the Alaska groundfish meetings and the SAFS seminars. Quantitative fishery science has advanced dramatically since my grad student days, and it requires constant study to stay abreast. Thanks to SAFS, and a little help from my friends, I’ve been able to do that. In 2019, which will be the school’s centenary, I will have been a SAFS student for 50 years.

 

 

 


Centennial Story 1: Dick Myhre (School of Fisheries, BS 1950)

I graduated from high school in 1939 and enlisted in the Washington National Guard in November of that year.  The National Guard was activated in September 1940 and that meant I was on active duty in the Army.  I received my Honorable Discharge in October 1945 and was able to attend the UW on the GI Bill.  Many ex-service men and women were anxious to continue their education, as I was, and I think there were about 50 students who selected a career in fisheries and enrolled at the UW School of Fisheries.

My first contact with the School of Fisheries was in early 1946 when I registered for classes in my first semester.  The School was located in four wooden buildings that were constructed on lower campus as hospital wards during WWI.  Of course, most of my classes in my first two years were on upper campus, but the School had two survey classes that were taught by Harry Dunlop and Heward Bell, who were the director and assistant director, respectively of the International Fisheries Commission, later renamed the International Pacific Halibut Commission (IPHC).  At the time, the director of the School was William F. Thompson, and he registered me for the two survey classes in my freshman year.

Pictured are Members of Pacific Fishery Biologists who attended a meeting at Lake Wilderness in March, 1953. PFB was a club of fishery biologists working in WA, Id and CA. I was No. 121 in the group. There were UW faculty members included and most UW fisheries Graduates were there. Some noteworthies in the photo are Doug Chapman (No 140), Donald McKernan, who became an ambassador in the US State Department and taught classes in UW after retiring (No 80), Lee Alverson (No 142), and F Heward Bell, IPHC Director for many years (No 74).

Dr. Thompson was selected as the Director of Investigations at the International Fisheries Commission in about 1925 after receiving his PhD from Stanford.  Some years later, he became the director of the newly formed International Salmon Commission, which was created to restore the Frazier River salmon fishery.  Subsequently, he was made director of the Fishery Research Institute, a group created by the Alaska salmon industry.

In my junior year, I was happy to start taking fisheries classes. Loren “Doc” Donaldson created a salmon and trout hatchery, and we students did the hands-on work.  Prior to my year in his class, Donaldson had conducted selective breeding of rainbow trout and developed a race of fast-growing trout that he planted in Green Lake in Seattle to the delight of many trout fishermen. Donaldson took our class out to the fish hatchery in Auburn where we mixed eggs and sperm from mature king salmon, placed them in troughs in the lab with running water to hatch, and fed them until they were ready to migrate to sea.  They were released at the UW, and Donaldson started a UW salmon run.

I also took classes from Alan Delacy, who taught fish life history, and Arthur Welander, who taught fish classification.  And, I took one class from Dr. James Lynch, who taught life history and classification of mollusks.

Because WWII diverted many potential students for military service, all the fishery agencies struggled to carry out their duties during and right after the war.  They needed fishery biologists most of all, and I was hired by the IPHC before I completed my BS degree.  Things I learned in the service gave me a strong desire to get a BS degree, and I can honestly say that my service experiences led me to a very rewarding career.  I retired as the assistant director of the IPHC after 36 years of employment as a fishery research biologist.


Why do some species associate together? Habitat is the key, not randomness

The species found in a particular place (“species assemblages”) differ from those found in other places, and figuring out why this is so has occupied the minds of ecologists since the mid-20th century. Currently two theories dominate: the niche theory, and the neutral theory. The niche theory holds that species assemblages result from species migrating into a particular place, and then either thriving or leaving based on how good of a match they are to the habitat and other living organisms (the “niche”) in that place. In contrast, neutral theory predictions of species assemblages assume that each species has similar fitness and purely random processes determine which species end up in a particular place. In a new paper, assemblages of small, cryptic fish species in the Indo-Pacific were examined to test whether niche theory or neutral theory best explains patterns in species association. The results strongly support niche theory: species in each broad region contribute to the assemblages, but the distinct microhabitat preferred by individual species has a strong influence on species assemblages. The research is published in the journal Coral Reefs by Gabby Ahmadia, SAFS professor Luke Tornabene, David Smith, and Frank Pezold.


To reduce human infections, control the snails

Schistosomiasis (also known as billharzia) is a parasitic flatworm that infects a quarter of a billion people worldwide, mostly in tropical countries. If left untreated, it causes chronic pain and diseases of the liver and kidney, and kills up to 200,000 people annually. In recent years, control of the disease has focused on mass-treating humans with a drug called praziquantel, instead of reducing the prevalence of snails that are a required part of the parasite’s life cycle. A new study now shows a strong relation between elimination of schistosomiasis and control of the snails, instead of using drug treatments that are unable to prevent reinfection when people enter streams and lakes containing the parasite-infested snails. For example, in 1994 Japan completely eliminated schistosomiasis from their entire country through a sustained snail control effort, while some countries relying purely on drug treatment of humans have seen little reduction in disease prevalence. The scientists authoring the study, which include SAFS professor Chelsea Wood, urge a rethink in global strategy that focuses more on snail control to reduce the disease burden of schistosomiasis. The work appears in the journal Trends in Parasitology.

Human-to-snail infection is from eggs in human urine and feces released into water bodies; while snail-to-human transmission occurs when humans enter snail-infested waters. Control of the disease occurs through (a) human drug treatment, (b) chemicals killing snails, (c) natural snail enemies, (d) modifying snail habitats, (e) genetic control through gene drives, and (f) traps, repellants and other novel strategies.

Fewer big and old Chinook salmon in the Pacific

Chinook salmon (king salmon) are the most prized salmon in the Pacific because of their large size. But now an analysis shows that the oldest Chinook salmon are disappearing, and their size is also declining, and these patterns are seen from California to western Alaska and in both wild and hatchery Chinook salmon. The research by SAFS researchers Jan Ohlberger and Daniel Schindler, and their coauthors Eric Ward and Bert Lewis, appears in the journal Fish and Fisheries, and was highlighted in UW News.

The number of Chinook salmon returning to spawn that spent 1, 2, 3, 4, or 5 years in the ocean. The largest returning fish are those that spent five years in the ocean.
Declining size for each group of returning Chinook salmon, showing the declines in size of salmon returning that spent 3, 4, or 5 years in the ocean.

An overlooked carbon source to an important freshwater fishery may be under threat

By Ben Miller, SAFS student

Floating village in Tonlé Sap Lake

When you first arrive at the community of Kampong Phluk, your neck cranes up bamboo stilts to meet the chatter of families in houses high above. From the top of what guidebooks call “bamboo skyscrapers,” locals gaze over the tops of submerged trees, a glittering, island Buddhist temple, and clusters of floating fishing villages in the distance. This is the shoreline of Tonlé Sap Lake, or “The Great Lake,” a landscape in which the boundaries between land and water are constantly shifting.

Located in the center of Cambodia, Tonlé Sap Lake is part of a much larger lower Mekong watershed. Each year, the monsoon increases water levels in the Mekong by up to 15 meters. This increases discharge from six Olympic-sized swimming pools to 16. Per second. As all of that water flows downriver, past Laos, Thailand, Cambodia, and the delta in Vietnam, it backs up at the edge of the South China Sea. This causes flows in one tributary, Tonlé Sap River, to change course. Instead of flowing south, from Tonlé Sap Lake into the Mekong, the Tonlé Sap River begins to flow north, from the Mekong into Tonlé Sap Lake. Over the next several months, the lake expands to four times its normal surface area over the surrounding floodplain and under the bamboo stilts of Kampong Phhluk, carrying with it fish, people, and floating villages. Where children walked to school yesterday, they paddle in dugout canoes and even giant rice bowls today.

Fish catches skyrocket during this annual flood pulse. Markets at the water’s edge receive a steady stream of boat traffic starting at 5:00 a.m. as fishermen unload catches from a variety of ingenious traps and mazes deployed overnight and designed to funnel fish on the floodplain into nets. It is estimated that 60 million people in Cambodia and the surrounding countries rely on protein from the Tonlé Sap Lake fish catch each day. These markets provide a unique opportunity for scientists in SAFS’s Holtgrieve Ecosystem Ecology Lab to sample a variety of species and size classes of fish without ever leaving the shore.

The Holtgrieve lab looks at chemical signatures within fish muscle and bone to determine their role in local food webs, how they migrate, and where their carbon—which is the building block of all life—ultimately originates. Conventional wisdom says that most carbon in lake food webs originates from plants. However, scientists analyzing samples from Tonlé Sap Lake noticed that carbon in several fish species is low in one of two stable isotopes of carbon. This is an unequivocal sign that some of the carbon within fish comes from methane.

Fish trap in Tonlé Sap Lake

Methane is produced by bacteria in water-logged soils. As bacteria that thrive on oxygen metabolize carbon in soils, oxygen begins to run out. Eventually, a group of bacteria known as methanogens take over and slowly but steadily metabolize carbon into methane gas. As methane gas rises out of soils and into floodplain waters, it encounters yet another group of bacteria that metabolize methane, known as methanotrophs. Methanotrophs are consumed by protozoans, rotifers, and zooplankton in the water column, which are in turn consumed by fish. This makes methane a potentially important carbon source to the Tonlé Sap food web. And for a fishery that happens to expand with monsoonal flooding each year, when 9,000 square kilometers of floodplain soils become water-logged.

To determine how much carbon from methane becomes available to the fishery when waters rise in Tonlé Sap Lake, scientists in the Holtgrieve Lab are leaving the shore on long, wooden fishing boats with fellow researchers from the Cambodian Ministry of Agriculture’s Inland Fisheries Research and Development Institute in order to sample water and mud on the floodplain. Production of methane by methanogens and consumption by methanotrophs is being measured at different flood stages in hopes of associating these rates with the lake’s flood pulse. Alteration of this flood pulse and the amount of carbon from methane available to the fishery is imminent as the lower Mekong is dammed.

Until recently, the Mekong remained one of the world’s wildest rivers. But three dams have been built on the upper Mekong in China, with a fourth—Xayaburi—under construction along the Laos-Cambodia border. These hydropower development projects are undertaken with Chinese funding, and will primarily benefit power consumers in that country rather than the riverside nations of Laos and Cambodia. Such hydropower is projected to tightly control future flooding downstream. Modeling suggests that, under current scenarios of hydropower development, Tonlé Sap Lake will experience shorter periods of maximal flooding. If predictions by scientists in the Holtgrieve Lab are correct, this means that the amount of carbon from methane available to the Tonlé Sap fishery, and perhaps the region’s food security, will be threatened by the dams.

Hydropower is set to increase globally by 56% over the next 20 years, with the majority of new dams built in the tropical, developing countries of Southeast Asia, South America, and Africa. What happens in the lower Mekong, Tonlé Sap Lake, and communities like Kampong Phhluk therefore has far reaching implications. Many large, tropical rivers such as the Irrawaddy, Amazon, and Congo follow the same pattern of predictable, annual flooding long known to the scientific literature. In countries along these rivers, freshwater fish is a crucial, easily available protein source for the poor. If the flood pulse is an important ecosystem service that maintains fisheries, communities, and traditional cultures, this service should be evaluated against the hydropower boom occurring throughout the developing world today.


SAFS professor Chelsea Wood receives prestigious Sloan Fellowship

SAFS Professor Chelsea Wood was awarded a Sloan Fellowship, awarded to early-career researchers in recognition of distinguished performance and a unique potential to make substantial contributions to their field. Prof. Wood is a prolific researcher who uses parasites and pathogens (both human and fish-based) to uncover fundamental ecological truths about the natural world. She will receive $65,000 to further her research initiatives, which includes using museum fish specimens as “parasite time capsules”, as reported in UW News.


Baby salmon use the earth’s magnetic field to figure out which way is up

Salmon are capable of using the Earth’s magnetic field as a part of their built-in navigating skills to home back to their streams of birth. Now it has been discovered that young salmon emerging from the gravel also use the Earth’s magnetic field to figure out which way is up. Salmon eggs are laid in gravel nests, and the young salmon remain in the gravel until all of the attached yolk reserves are finished, then they emerge to live out in the open water. In lab experiments, scientists were able to determine that the direction of emergence from the gravel depended on the Earth’s magnetic field: when this was disrupted or reversed in the laboratory, the young salmon were much less likely to move upwards and out of the gravel beds. The new work was coauthored by SAFS Professor Tom Quinn, who first had the idea decades previously during his PhD studies, and appears in the journal Biology Letters.