Bluestriped grunts and gray snapper, two important subsistence fish in the Mesoamerican region, school in a marine sanctuary in Belize. (Credit: Claudio Contreras-Koob)
Around the world, an estimated 52.8 million people engage in subsistence fishing—the practice of fishing to feed one’s family and community, where most of the food stays local. As ocean temperatures rise, so do concerns about how this will impact the fish populations these communities depend on.
Subsistence fisheries are difficult to track, due to lower reporting of catch numbers compared to industrial fishing. Subsistence fish are also usually smaller species that aren’t as economically valuable. But they are vital to the food security of these communities.
“We want to know if the communities that depend on these fish as food sources will still have that resource under different, end-of-century climate scenarios,” said Cortese.
For many forest creatures, trees offer the ultimate all-you-can-eat buffet. Insects, mammals and even fungal pathogens see trees as a free meal. They’ll feast on tree leaves with no hesitation.
These trees, however, are not defenseless. To defend against predatory enemies, trees produce special chemicals called “secondary metabolites” within their leaves. If a tree produces enough distasteful metabolites, it may be able to deter hungry herbivores.
A recent study, spearheaded by researchers at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), found that trees growing in more diverse communities produce a wider array of chemical compounds on their leaves. This then changes how animals interact with those trees—often in ways the team didn’t expect.
Volunteer Sarah Ryan Hudson holds a sample she collected for Chesapeake Water Watch in the lower Chesapeake Bay. (Credit Sarah Ryan Hudson)
What if satellites could better track the health of Chesapeake Bay rivers and nearshore waters from space? That’s the goal of Chesapeake Water Watch, a participatory science project run for the past four years by the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), the City College of New York and NASA. For the first time this summer, the project used its data—roughly 2,500 water samples collected almost entirely by volunteers—to improve satellite observations of the Bay, in a new study.
Satellites have monitored aquatic ecosystems across the globe for over 20 years. They use the water’s changing colors to better understand algal blooms, water clarity and other key environmental health factors. But training those satellites on smaller tributaries and coastal waters like those along the Chesapeake Bay has proven more difficult. Most “ocean color” satellites aren’t high-resolution enough to capture the detailed shifts that happen on the coasts. For satellites that can capture higher-res images, there isn’t always enough data on the ground to cross-check their findings.
Tuck Hines holds a female blue crab during a trip to China (Credit: SERC)
In its 60-year history on Chesapeake Bay, few people have shaped the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC) more than Anson “Tuck” Hines. During his 46 years as a research ecologist at SERC, Hines led the center as associate director for research for 18 years and as director for the past 20 years—longer than any previous SERC director.
This June Hines passed the torch to William “Monty” Graham, an oceanographer from the Florida Institute of Oceanography. He left behind a campus transformed under his leadership, into a world-renowned coastal research center that reaches around the globe.
Olympia oysters in British Columbia (Credit: Erin Herder)
For many species, rising global temperatures will strain their ability to survive. However, a hotter climate might not be the end for one threatened species of oyster, according to a recent study.
The Olympia oyster is the only species of oyster native to the West Coast of North America. It was a staple in Native American diets in precolonial America, and became a major economic resource during industrialization. But its numbers took a hit in the early 20th century, thanks to pollution and overfishing.
Monty Graham beside SERC’s Charles McC. Mathias Lab, during his first week as director. (Credit: Kristen Goodhue)
Monty Graham has spent most of his life guided by two passions: the ocean and time. As a child in Danville, Kentucky—over 400 miles from the nearest coast—he remembers going out with his mother to search for crinoids and other marine fossils, from Kentucky’s deep past as a former ocean. He devoted his career to studying jellyfish, one of the oldest groups of animals on Earth.
But for Graham, the future holds just as strong a pull as the past. He studied jellyfish blooms in part because they’re harbingers of larger changes in the ocean. And in 2010, when the Deepwater Horizon oil spill wreaked havoc on communities on land and at sea, he led multi-organizational efforts to understand its larger ripples on marine life.
New Study Offers First Look at Diet and Ecology of River Otters in Chesapeake Bay
by Kristen Goodhue
North American river otters have terrible hygiene when it comes to their food. They eat, play and defecate in the same place. But their unhealthy habits make them ideal for detecting future health threats in the environment, according to scientists. In a new study published Aug. 13, Smithsonian scientists analyzed the otters’ diets and “latrine” habitats in the Chesapeake Bay for the first time. They discovered river otters often eat food riddled with parasites—and that may not be a bad thing for the larger ecosystem.
This is the second of two In Memoriam tributes, honoring two long-time staff members who passed away while still employed at our center over the last decade. As the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center enters its 60th year, we recognize that many of our achievements would not have been possible without their hard work and passion.(Read the first In Memoriam to SERC’s former executive officer, Bob Gallagher, here.)
Paul Fofonoff (left) gives an outdoor to lesson with Marine Invasions Lab director Greg Ruiz. (Credit: SERC)
Over 500 aquatic species have entered the U.S. from abroad—and Paul Fofonoff could name almost all of them. He could also name nearly every tree, flower, animal or shrub on one of his hikes or paddling trips. During his three decades at the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), he earned a reputation as a walking encyclopedia for wildlife.
Fofonoff devoted his career to marine biology. He worked as a staff scientist for SERC’s Marine Invasions Research Lab for 30 years, before his unexpected death in May 2024. But unlike many marine scientists, Fofonoff knew almost as much about life on land as life in the ocean.
Floating microplastics collected in the Southern Ocean. (Credit: Zhao Shiye)
As plastic pollution spreads to every corner of the world, concerns are rising about microplastics, smaller pieces of plastic even more difficult to see and track. Scientists estimate that microplastics (particles smaller than 5 millimeters) make up 92% of the plastic particles on the ocean surface. But what about below the surface?
Until recently, understanding microplastics below the ocean surface has been a glaring gap in marine pollution research. Most sampling happens at the ocean surface. However, complex ocean currents mean that a surface-level sample doesn’t necessarily represent the ocean as a whole.
In a new study coauthored by the Smithsonian, an international team compiled data from deep-water samples around the world to start filling in the blanks. Here are four things we know better now about microplastics underwater.
Diamela De Veer (left) and Ocean Travelers II intern Ninoshka Lopez collect a piece of litter with corals on it. (Credit: Ninoshka Lopez)
Many marine organisms, like barnacles, bryozoans and algae, spend their lives on other living creatures floating in the sea. But today, some of them are finding new homes to colonize: plastic pollution. Ocean Travelers is a participatory science project, where volunteers and scientists track marine organisms living on litter that washes ashore. Run by the Smithsonian Environmental Research Center (SERC), the project hopes to determine whether invasive species are spreading via litter in the ocean.
Marine biologists Martin Thiel, Jim Carlton and Greg Ruiz started the first Ocean Travelers at SERC in 2022. They wanted to understand what organisms were living on plastic in the ocean, and how far they were spreading. It was born of a collaboration between different programs around the world, including the Smithsonian-led MarineGEO that monitors the world’s coastal ecosystems and Científicos de la Basura, based out of Chile. Ocean Travelers I was a huge success, recruiting volunteers, local teachers and their students to collect samples on the beach with professional scientists.
