In 1973, the Endangered Species Act (ESA) was passed by the Nixon administration in order to protect rare and declining wildlife across the country. Without this legislation, many species would undoubtedly be in more trouble than they already are. Since its passing, 28 species have been delisted due to recovery, including the bald eagle, the grizzly bear, and the american alligator (USFWS, Delisting Report, 2012.
As the bane of developers, the ESA
stipulates that there cannot be any actions taken to harm populations of
threatened (T) or endangered species (E)—threatened meaning is likely to become
endangered, endangered meaning in danger of extinction—or the ecosystems in
which they reside. It is a rather involved process to get a species listed
under federal protection via the US Fish and Wildlife or NOAA, but once protected, there are serious consequences for harming a T&E species.
An adult bog turtle with the mud rinsed off. Notice the orange cheeks.
A current
threatened species that I have gotten to work with is the bog turtle (Gleptemys muhlenbergii “Muhlenberg’s
Carved Turtle”), which has separate populations in the Southern Appalachian
Mountains and the Northeast. Occupying bogs, swamps, and wet meadows, the bog turtle
requires slow-flowing rivulets and mucky, organic soil. Their habitat has some
of the richest plant diversity, with small bogs or wetlands having over 150
plant species. Because of their habitat requirements, this species has declined
as wetlands have been drained, cultivated, and developed.
A bog turtle nest (above) is usually laid right in the middle of a tussock sedge, so that it can incubate.
Between predators, weather, and other factors, only about 27% of eggs make it to hatchlings (below).
Considering
bog turtle habitat, it is no wonder the species are declining. Walking through
the bogs, one can sink two feet into muck while trying to avoid poison sumac.
Surveying for turtles can involve trapping with wire boxes, or, more commonly,
probing in the mud. You would never guess that poking around in deep mud will
yield turtles. The trick is learning to discern the “thud” of hitting a
submerged root from the “thwok” of a rock from the hollow “thunk” of hitting a
bog turtle carapace.
Imagine trying to hit that shell through a foot of mud without knowing what exactly you
are hitting. A sometimes frustrating, but rewarding, treasure hunt.
Once found,
the turtles are notched, measured and released so that the overall population
can be estimated with mark recapture analysis. If a turtle is lucky, it will
get decked out with a radio transmitter. I can’t decide if the transmitter is
poorly respected (like a dog with a head-cone), or highly prized (like a geek
with the newest gadget). Anyways, tracking and recording the locations of the
turtles using radio telemetry help scientists understand how much habitat is
required to sustain a population and what type of sub-habitat, or microhabitat,
the individuals prefer.
An adult bog turtle with a radio transmitter attached to the carapace.
The transmitter is placed on the side of the posterior so that it does not hinder movement or mating.
Information on bog turtles taken from studies reported in Turtles of theUnited States and Canada by Ernst and Lovich