Friday, December 28, 2012
Sitting to tighten my wading boots on the bank of Arroyo I was thinking maybe the water is too murky. Then low and behold I look up with a sigh and there is the first fish I have seen on Arroyo. I good size male Coho with some storm damage I suspect. The water was indeed too murky for photo ops but the day progressed with more excitement. Next I found a female further upstream than the male and then in between the potential future couple a pair over a redd. It was a great day and I encourage everyone to get out there and see the fish.
Girl on girl action
Holy day on the creek -- first water over the dam! As Kent Lake began spilling last night, Lagunitas Creek above Shafter rose above the controlled flow of the Marin Municipal Water District to became a natural waterway in its own right. Can the fish feel the difference? Does the stream feel wilder?
Yesterday's tumult has subsided, but the female competition continues. We saw two savage contenders tussling and biting and rolling. They were very well matched, each with the same level of wear on her tail, and neither seemed willing to cede.
One redd upstream, the dominant female we saw chasing yesterday was still at it, racing off her redd over and over to repel another female who had had the temerity (or misfortune) to deposit eggs nearby.
Each female had a seriously worn tail, meaning she'd already deposited eggs. Thus each was committed to her territory: this was no introductory, establishing-territory sort of skirmishing, but a fight no one can win. So it goes on, and on, and on.
Females live from three to 24 days after they deposit eggs. I suspect that females locked in continual battle don't last as long as those who get to dally peacefully on their redds, languidly swishing.
Saw one fresh female above the eyeletted boulders, with a well-worn jack just behind. As we left, some very tattered males seemed headed upstream. Go, boys, go!!!!
Yesterday's tumult has subsided, but the female competition continues. We saw two savage contenders tussling and biting and rolling. They were very well matched, each with the same level of wear on her tail, and neither seemed willing to cede.
One redd upstream, the dominant female we saw chasing yesterday was still at it, racing off her redd over and over to repel another female who had had the temerity (or misfortune) to deposit eggs nearby.
Each female had a seriously worn tail, meaning she'd already deposited eggs. Thus each was committed to her territory: this was no introductory, establishing-territory sort of skirmishing, but a fight no one can win. So it goes on, and on, and on.
Females live from three to 24 days after they deposit eggs. I suspect that females locked in continual battle don't last as long as those who get to dally peacefully on their redds, languidly swishing.
Saw one fresh female above the eyeletted boulders, with a well-worn jack just behind. As we left, some very tattered males seemed headed upstream. Go, boys, go!!!!
Thursday, December 27, 2012
Rough and tumble makes great viewing
I leave for three days in the Sierra, and the fish pour into the watershed! Maybe I should leave more often. Al and Megan and Terence counted 27 coho on the Shafter stretch of Lagunitas creek on Christmas Eve.
Today was my first day back, and the viewing was glorious. Redds everywhere, starting right at the parking lot. This is the first time in several years we've seen this kind of action so close to the confluence of Lagunitas and San Geronimo creeks.
The press of new fish on limited good spawning habitat created a fabulous bunfight 20 feet up the trail. Everyone wanted the same spot, since gravel is at a premium. So no fewer than eight fish duked it out, females fighting females for the best real estate and males fighting males to be the one who gets to fertilize the female.
We see males jostling all the time, but this kind of concerted fighting between females occurs less often. In this case, both females had worn tails, so both had started digging and may have felt too committed to their redds to be driven off. And the population is dense right now. So the fighting went on for hours, and showed no sign of resolution.
Imagine two women building their dream nurseries too close for comfort. Every ten minutes, the stronger erupts in fury to chase the other away. "Get out!!! This is MY nursery!" Then imagine men pushing each other to be the first in line for sex. "Move it buddy; I was here first. Who cares? I'm bigger and redder - beat it, bud!" Behind them both, the ubiquitous jack (this one a large one), an ever hopeful teenage male, inexperience but ready to try.
Put it all in scale(s) and you've got today's show.
Today was my first day back, and the viewing was glorious. Redds everywhere, starting right at the parking lot. This is the first time in several years we've seen this kind of action so close to the confluence of Lagunitas and San Geronimo creeks.
The press of new fish on limited good spawning habitat created a fabulous bunfight 20 feet up the trail. Everyone wanted the same spot, since gravel is at a premium. So no fewer than eight fish duked it out, females fighting females for the best real estate and males fighting males to be the one who gets to fertilize the female.
We see males jostling all the time, but this kind of concerted fighting between females occurs less often. In this case, both females had worn tails, so both had started digging and may have felt too committed to their redds to be driven off. And the population is dense right now. So the fighting went on for hours, and showed no sign of resolution.
Imagine two women building their dream nurseries too close for comfort. Every ten minutes, the stronger erupts in fury to chase the other away. "Get out!!! This is MY nursery!" Then imagine men pushing each other to be the first in line for sex. "Move it buddy; I was here first. Who cares? I'm bigger and redder - beat it, bud!" Behind them both, the ubiquitous jack (this one a large one), an ever hopeful teenage male, inexperience but ready to try.
Put it all in scale(s) and you've got today's show.
Saturday, December 22, 2012
Coho, merganser and otters --- oh my!
I was wrong -- hooray! Big whoosh of fish up after this last round of rains. Leo Cronin was teeming with spawners.
Okay, okay, maybe not teeming. Nothing like the old days when the fish were thick in the stream. But we saw least 10 through the still very muddy water, so it's fair to say there were more, maybe even many more. At least one was a white-tailed female, which suggests she'd already spawned on the creek, and just been hidden from view the last few times we looked. Others looked fresh as could be, no white on their tails at all. One fresh female started a redd just downstream of the eyeletted boulders.
While we admired six fish in the big pool above the culvert, someone yelled, "Otter, otter!" Yikes! A handsome pair slipped into the water just above the riffle, right on the gravel where a coho pair was trying to spawn. The otters swooshed into the stream and roared upstream leaving nothing but bubbles (and some shook-up fish).
At the same time, a big bird with a rusty head and dramatic black and white wings and body zoomed down the creek.
I'd never seen one in flight before, so the black and white was new, but the punky red head suggested (and an iPhone confirmed) a Common Merganser.
Like the otters, the mergansers are native, natural predators: mergansers have spatulate bills and have been known to stick them right into the redds to suck up coho eggs like a salmon milkshake. Uh oh!
Viewers reported seeing four otters at the big logjam just upstream of the eyeletted boulders; others saw six (!). Viewings were reported in the spillway pool under the dam and downstream towards the Inkwells.
And someone said he saw a "huge fish," three feet long. Could it have been a chinook? We do see them in the watershed -- in fact, in our best year (2005/2006), MMWD counted 125, believe it or not. But I don't know if any were seen at Shafter....
It's also time to start boning up on steelhead identification. This is the time they start coming up, and they like to move in roiling, coffee-colored water. Sound like anything you've seen lately?
Okay, okay, maybe not teeming. Nothing like the old days when the fish were thick in the stream. But we saw least 10 through the still very muddy water, so it's fair to say there were more, maybe even many more. At least one was a white-tailed female, which suggests she'd already spawned on the creek, and just been hidden from view the last few times we looked. Others looked fresh as could be, no white on their tails at all. One fresh female started a redd just downstream of the eyeletted boulders.
While we admired six fish in the big pool above the culvert, someone yelled, "Otter, otter!" Yikes! A handsome pair slipped into the water just above the riffle, right on the gravel where a coho pair was trying to spawn. The otters swooshed into the stream and roared upstream leaving nothing but bubbles (and some shook-up fish).
At the same time, a big bird with a rusty head and dramatic black and white wings and body zoomed down the creek.
I'd never seen one in flight before, so the black and white was new, but the punky red head suggested (and an iPhone confirmed) a Common Merganser.
Like the otters, the mergansers are native, natural predators: mergansers have spatulate bills and have been known to stick them right into the redds to suck up coho eggs like a salmon milkshake. Uh oh!
Viewers reported seeing four otters at the big logjam just upstream of the eyeletted boulders; others saw six (!). Viewings were reported in the spillway pool under the dam and downstream towards the Inkwells.
And someone said he saw a "huge fish," three feet long. Could it have been a chinook? We do see them in the watershed -- in fact, in our best year (2005/2006), MMWD counted 125, believe it or not. But I don't know if any were seen at Shafter....
It's also time to start boning up on steelhead identification. This is the time they start coming up, and they like to move in roiling, coffee-colored water. Sound like anything you've seen lately?
Thursday, December 20, 2012
Waiting for the next wave (???)
The belted kingfisher rattled and zoomed, the varied thrush flitted, kinglets hopped --- but if there were coho at Leo Cronin today, they were invisible. Though we peered at every riffle and gravel bed, we saw no new fish, no spawning activity, no waiting males - and no spawned-out females, either.
Usually we would expect to see white-tailed females defending their redds for up to 24days after depositing eggs. Their absence is a little suspicious, given a December 13 sighting of four otters (!!!) in the spillway pool.
As for the four male coho gliding in the spillway pool since December 13, no sign. If what we're taught is true (males live nine days after fertilizing eggs), they may have died, since we saw so much spawning activity on December 9 and 11. Or maybe someone with keener eyes will still spot them; when I last saw them on December 17, two looked pretty energetic.
MMWD is optimistic that we have not yet seen the peak of this year's migration. Me, I'm not so sure. We've had so much rain, I'm thinking there's not a lot of pent up demand, as there's been in years where the fish had to wait for storms to come in. And though the ocean conditions have been terrific, this year's coho come from the second-smallest parent class recorded on the creek -- just 67 spawners.
Sure hope I'm wrong!!!! I missed the fish jumping through the Inkwells on December 3 -- I'll be looking again after these next big storms come through.
Usually we would expect to see white-tailed females defending their redds for up to 24days after depositing eggs. Their absence is a little suspicious, given a December 13 sighting of four otters (!!!) in the spillway pool.
As for the four male coho gliding in the spillway pool since December 13, no sign. If what we're taught is true (males live nine days after fertilizing eggs), they may have died, since we saw so much spawning activity on December 9 and 11. Or maybe someone with keener eyes will still spot them; when I last saw them on December 17, two looked pretty energetic.
MMWD is optimistic that we have not yet seen the peak of this year's migration. Me, I'm not so sure. We've had so much rain, I'm thinking there's not a lot of pent up demand, as there's been in years where the fish had to wait for storms to come in. And though the ocean conditions have been terrific, this year's coho come from the second-smallest parent class recorded on the creek -- just 67 spawners.
Sure hope I'm wrong!!!! I missed the fish jumping through the Inkwells on December 3 -- I'll be looking again after these next big storms come through.
Sunday, December 16, 2012
Everybody into the pool
What a difference a week makes. Last Sunday we were transfixed by nine fish battling it out on three active redds at Leo Cronin. Tails were flapping, fins were flying, teeth were bared, gravel was roiling, rivals fighting -- salmon spawning! (See Richard James' extraordinary high-def video capturing the best 10 minutes of hours of watching here To learn more and take action with SPAWN, click here to visit www.spawnusa.org (http://www.spawnusa.org/)
Today the creek was quiet except for the whirring kingfisher and the hyper kinglets. As we walked through the soft rain, it seemed that the fish had vanished into the mist. The redds that have been so reliably active for the last month were empty under MMWD orange ribbons, and there was not a white-tail female to be found, even the valiant old warrior who so bravely fought and fought all comers.
But then, at the end of the trail, just before the spillway, we saw a flicker, a dream, a shimmer in the shadows -- four fish lazing in the deep water. Some were recognizably male -- indeed, particularly recognizable as the males we watched last week. But one was dark and unmarked by battle. Could she be a fresh female whiling away the hours until she was ready to spawn?
Alas, no. Concentrated viewing yielded the unwelcome sight of a pointed overbite, sure sign of the "hook nosed" male. We confirmed the sighting three times over, and had to conclude that we were looking at four males with nothing to do.
Autopsies on un-predated coho show that while females expend all their eggs, males die with milt to spare, always hoping to fertilize one more female upstream.
Before Peters Dam was built (1953), the coho swam to the foot of Mount Tam. Now 50% of the historic habitat is gone behind that concrete wall. So these males have come to the end of the road twice over; they've run out of stream, and they've almost run out of time. (Males live about nine days after first fertilizing eggs, and we know at least some of these fish were active one week ago).
Let's hope they get to use that last bit of milt on some fresh females soon.
Today the creek was quiet except for the whirring kingfisher and the hyper kinglets. As we walked through the soft rain, it seemed that the fish had vanished into the mist. The redds that have been so reliably active for the last month were empty under MMWD orange ribbons, and there was not a white-tail female to be found, even the valiant old warrior who so bravely fought and fought all comers.
But then, at the end of the trail, just before the spillway, we saw a flicker, a dream, a shimmer in the shadows -- four fish lazing in the deep water. Some were recognizably male -- indeed, particularly recognizable as the males we watched last week. But one was dark and unmarked by battle. Could she be a fresh female whiling away the hours until she was ready to spawn?
Alas, no. Concentrated viewing yielded the unwelcome sight of a pointed overbite, sure sign of the "hook nosed" male. We confirmed the sighting three times over, and had to conclude that we were looking at four males with nothing to do.
Autopsies on un-predated coho show that while females expend all their eggs, males die with milt to spare, always hoping to fertilize one more female upstream.
Before Peters Dam was built (1953), the coho swam to the foot of Mount Tam. Now 50% of the historic habitat is gone behind that concrete wall. So these males have come to the end of the road twice over; they've run out of stream, and they've almost run out of time. (Males live about nine days after first fertilizing eggs, and we know at least some of these fish were active one week ago).
Let's hope they get to use that last bit of milt on some fresh females soon.
Friday, December 14, 2012
Graphs Tell the Story - the Coho are Here NOW!
I'm a scientist, so I love data, but while numbers can tell a great story, a graph really helps illustrate what data can tell us. This graph, and the one below it, chronicle first our knowledge of WHEN coho salmon return to the Lagunitas Creek watershed, and then HOW MANY have returned.
For those that have not yet read the entries below, the coho salmon are HERE NOW and in a spawning frenzy; digging redds, claiming territories, and battling for mates.
The graph below, courtesy of our generous colleagues at Marin Municipal Water District, shows the peak of coho redds observed is usually the third week of December and the first week of January. The "observed dip" in between those two peaks could very likely be due to lack of surveys for redds the fourth week of December (Christmas vacation!) and that not every year has "December week 5"!
This graph below shows "Escapement," which is fisheries biologist speak for "the number of fish that escaped fishermen and returned home to spawn." We see the "extinction vortex" claimed by biologist at the National Marine Fisheries Service: a decline from thousands to less than a hundred. Last year was an optimistic increase in a year-class, the first year-class increase in a decade. This year.....we are still counting! To make a tax-deductible donation to support SPAWN coho monitoring, click here.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Creek is rocking!
Transfixing spectacle continues at Leo Cronin -- some of the best viewing I've seen in nine years and hundreds of hours on the creek.
Now moved one notch upstream from Sunday's party, five male coho lined up like train cars behind a nesting female, thrashing, snapping, fighting, sidling, stealing home, splashing, cajoling, digging, and shivering.
She was hoping for better habitat --made some bids for the more desireable real estate just above the boulders (great aeration, good gravel). But it was not to be -- the worn white-tailed female at the far upstream edge of the redd still had enough to moxy to chase the newcomer off, defending her redd til she dies.
A second fresher female swam through the melee as though she had somewhere to go... an upstream redd in the making?
In the meantime, the first fresher female gave up and got serious about a redd just below the fern. The males were ecstatic -- and so were the fish watchers.
Want to join a SPAWN Naturalist-Led Creekwalk? Click here for Creekwalk Registration! (https://treesfoundation.org/cgi-priv/CreekWalks.pl)
Can't find time to volunteer for hands-on coho conservation? Click here to make a tax-deductible donation to SPAWN. Every contribution counts! (https://treesfoundation.org/cgi-priv/Donations.pl?function=donate&page_id=37&from_trees=0)
To learn more and take action with SPAWN, click here to visit www.spawnusa.org (http://www.spawnusa.org/)
Now moved one notch upstream from Sunday's party, five male coho lined up like train cars behind a nesting female, thrashing, snapping, fighting, sidling, stealing home, splashing, cajoling, digging, and shivering.
She was hoping for better habitat --made some bids for the more desireable real estate just above the boulders (great aeration, good gravel). But it was not to be -- the worn white-tailed female at the far upstream edge of the redd still had enough to moxy to chase the newcomer off, defending her redd til she dies.
A second fresher female swam through the melee as though she had somewhere to go... an upstream redd in the making?
In the meantime, the first fresher female gave up and got serious about a redd just below the fern. The males were ecstatic -- and so were the fish watchers.
Want to join a SPAWN Naturalist-Led Creekwalk? Click here for Creekwalk Registration! (https://treesfoundation.org/cgi-priv/CreekWalks.pl)
Can't find time to volunteer for hands-on coho conservation? Click here to make a tax-deductible donation to SPAWN. Every contribution counts! (https://treesfoundation.org/cgi-priv/Donations.pl?function=donate&page_id=37&from_trees=0)
To learn more and take action with SPAWN, click here to visit www.spawnusa.org (http://www.spawnusa.org/)
Creek Explorations: A Fun Day with a Fungi
There is so much to see this time of year along Lagunitas Creek and its tributaries! Endangered coho salmon are jostling for territories, making pairs, spawning, and even perishing before our eyes. The drama is non-stop! Coho are splashing, bird song fills the air, and the recycling of the dead and dying organisms is taking a huge leap forward as fungus fruit, spread, and display their oft-hidden glory!
Want to join a SPAWN Naturalist-Led Creekwalk? Click here for Creekwalk Registration!
Can't find time to volunteer for hands-on coho conservation? Click here to make a tax-deductible donation to SPAWN. Every contribution counts!
To learn more and take action with SPAWN, click here to visit www.spawnusa.org
When coho salmon spawn and die, their carcasses decay and feed the watershed - dozens of birds and mammals eat them, plants and trees absorb their nutrients, and even their bones become part of another form of life when they are consumed or decayed. When trees fall, there is one major group of organisms that take over to recycle them and give new life to the tough cellulose that keeps them standing tall during their lifetimes - that group is the kingdom of fungus! Next time you are hiking along the creek at the Leo Cronin Viewing area, I challenge you to take to break free of the amazing coho drama in front of you and look behind you, under the trees and shrubs, in the decaying duff, and see for yourself the amazing diversity and beauty of our fungal friends. Their role in the ecosystem is critical and oh so under-appreciated! Here's a few I stopped to admire along the way, enjoy!
Want to join a SPAWN Naturalist-Led Creekwalk? Click here for Creekwalk Registration!
Can't find time to volunteer for hands-on coho conservation? Click here to make a tax-deductible donation to SPAWN. Every contribution counts!
To learn more and take action with SPAWN, click here to visit www.spawnusa.org
When coho salmon spawn and die, their carcasses decay and feed the watershed - dozens of birds and mammals eat them, plants and trees absorb their nutrients, and even their bones become part of another form of life when they are consumed or decayed. When trees fall, there is one major group of organisms that take over to recycle them and give new life to the tough cellulose that keeps them standing tall during their lifetimes - that group is the kingdom of fungus! Next time you are hiking along the creek at the Leo Cronin Viewing area, I challenge you to take to break free of the amazing coho drama in front of you and look behind you, under the trees and shrubs, in the decaying duff, and see for yourself the amazing diversity and beauty of our fungal friends. Their role in the ecosystem is critical and oh so under-appreciated! Here's a few I stopped to admire along the way, enjoy!
Sunday, December 9, 2012
What a day!!!!!
Oh my!!!! Started out with first redd up from Leo Cronin parking lot, white tailed female still being courted, but one wondered why -- I think it's unlikely she still had eggs. Then saw one lone male swimming disconsolately in the pool above the culvert, and one very white tailed female above the eyeletted boulders, still valiantly sweeping sediment from her redd. Males would come to see her, hoping for some action. Each time I would think maybe they knew something I didn't, but I just couldn't believe she had any eggs left -- then after a few minutes they would come to the same conclusion and leave. So it was a little dispiriting....until, on the way back to the parking lot, I stopped where someone was gazing into the pool above the culvert -- only to see one super-fresh female, one very small pretty fresh female, two adult males and a jack, all rolling and tussling and chasing and digging in a fabulous panoply of salmon soap opera. Couldn't tear myself away for hours; must have spoken to 80 or 90 people, all of whom were really happy to have someone tell them what they were seeing.
It really is worth coming out on a Creek Walk right now -- so much more fun to have a good interpreter give some context to these wonderful views.
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