5 resultados para Conservation biology
em Duke University
Resumo:
Habitat loss, fragmentation, and degradation threaten the World’s ecosystems and species. These, and other threats, will likely be exacerbated by climate change. Due to a limited budget for conservation, we are forced to prioritize a few areas over others. These places are selected based on their uniqueness and vulnerability. One of the most famous examples is the biodiversity hotspots: areas where large quantities of endemic species meet alarming rates of habitat loss. Most of these places are in the tropics, where species have smaller ranges, diversity is higher, and ecosystems are most threatened.
Species distributions are useful to understand ecological theory and evaluate extinction risk. Small-ranged species, or those endemic to one place, are more vulnerable to extinction than widely distributed species. However, current range maps often overestimate the distribution of species, including areas that are not within the suitable elevation or habitat for a species. Consequently, assessment of extinction risk using these maps could underestimate vulnerability.
In order to be effective in our quest to conserve the World’s most important places we must: 1) Translate global and national priorities into practical local actions, 2) Find synergies between biodiversity conservation and human welfare, 3) Evaluate the different dimensions of threats, in order to design effective conservation measures and prepare for future threats, and 4) Improve the methods used to evaluate species’ extinction risk and prioritize areas for conservation. The purpose of this dissertation is to address these points in Colombia and other global biodiversity hotspots.
In Chapter 2, I identified the global, strategic conservation priorities and then downscaled to practical local actions within the selected priorities in Colombia. I used existing range maps of 171 bird species to identify priority conservation areas that would protect the greatest number of species at risk in Colombia (endemic and small-ranged species). The Western Andes had the highest concentrations of such species—100 in total—but the lowest densities of national parks. I then adjusted the priorities for this region by refining these species ranges by selecting only areas of suitable elevation and remaining habitat. The estimated ranges of these species shrank by 18–100% after accounting for habitat and suitable elevation. Setting conservation priorities on the basis of currently available range maps excluded priority areas in the Western Andes and, by extension, likely elsewhere and for other taxa. By incorporating detailed maps of remaining natural habitats, I made practical recommendations for conservation actions. One recommendation was to restore forest connections to a patch of cloud forest about to become isolated from the main Andes.
For Chapter 3, I identified areas where bird conservation met ecosystem service protection in the Central Andes of Colombia. Inspired by the November 11th (2011) landslide event near Manizales, and the current poor results of Colombia’s Article 111 of Law 99 of 1993 as a conservation measure in this country, I set out to prioritize conservation and restoration areas where landslide prevention would complement bird conservation in the Central Andes. This area is one of the most biodiverse places on Earth, but also one of the most threatened. Using the case of the Rio Blanco Reserve, near Manizales, I identified areas for conservation where endemic and small-range bird diversity was high, and where landslide risk was also high. I further prioritized restoration areas by overlapping these conservation priorities with a forest cover map. Restoring forests in bare areas of high landslide risk and important bird diversity yields benefits for both biodiversity and people. I developed a simple landslide susceptibility model using slope, forest cover, aspect, and stream proximity. Using publicly available bird range maps, refined by elevation, I mapped concentrations of endemic and small-range bird species. I identified 1.54 km2 of potential restoration areas in the Rio Blanco Reserve, and 886 km2 in the Central Andes region. By prioritizing these areas, I facilitate the application of Article 111 which requires local and regional governments to invest in land purchases for the conservation of watersheds.
Chapter 4 dealt with elevational ranges of montane birds and the impact of lowland deforestation on their ranges in the Western Andes of Colombia, an important biodiversity hotspot. Using point counts and mist-nets, I surveyed six altitudinal transects spanning 2200 to 2800m. Three transects were forested from 2200 to 2800m, and three were partially deforested with forest cover only above 2400m. I compared abundance-weighted mean elevation, minimum elevation, and elevational range width. In addition to analyzing the effect of deforestation on 134 species, I tested its impact within trophic guilds and habitat preference groups. Abundance-weighted mean and minimum elevations were not significantly different between forested and partially deforested transects. Range width was marginally different: as expected, ranges were larger in forested transects. Species in different trophic guilds and habitat preference categories showed different trends. These results suggest that deforestation may affect species’ elevational ranges, even within the forest that remains. Climate change will likely exacerbate harmful impacts of deforestation on species’ elevational distributions. Future conservation strategies need to account for this by protecting connected forest tracts across a wide range of elevations.
In Chapter 5, I refine the ranges of 726 species from six biodiversity hotspots by suitable elevation and habitat. This set of 172 bird species for the Atlantic Forest, 138 for Central America, 100 for the Western Andes of Colombia, 57 for Madagascar, 102 for Sumatra, and 157 for Southeast Asia met the criteria for range size, endemism, threat, and forest use. Of these 586 species, the Red List deems 108 to be threatened: 15 critically endangered, 29 endangered, and 64 vulnerable. When ranges are refined by elevational limits and remaining forest cover, 10 of those critically endangered species have ranges < 100km2, but then so do 2 endangered species, seven vulnerable, and eight non-threatened ones. Similarly, 4 critically endangered species, 20 endangered, and 12 vulnerable species have refined ranges < 5000km2, but so do 66 non-threatened species. A striking 89% of these species I have classified in higher threat categories have <50% of their refined ranges inside protected areas. I find that for 43% of the species I assessed, refined range sizes fall within thresholds that typically have higher threat categories than their current assignments. I recommend these species for closer inspection by those who assess risk. These assessments are not only important on a species-by-species basis, but by combining distributions of threatened species, I create maps of conservation priorities. They differ significantly from those created from unrefined ranges.
Resumo:
Antillean manatees (Trichechus manatus manatus) were heavily hunted in the past throughout the Wider Caribbean Region (WCR), and are currently listed as endangered on the IUCN Red List of Threatened Species. In most WCR countries, including Haiti and the Dominican Republic, remaining manatee populations are believed to be small and declining, but current information is needed on their status, distribution, and local threats to the species.
To assess the past and current distribution and conservation status of the Antillean manatee in Hispaniola, I conducted a systematic review of documentary archives dating from the pre-Columbian era to 2013. I then surveyed more than 670 artisanal fishers from Haiti and the Dominican Republic in 2013-2014 using a standardized questionnaire. Finally, to identify important areas for manatees in the Dominican Republic, I developed a country-wide ensemble model of manatee distribution, and compared modeled hotspots with those identified by fishers.
Manatees were historically abundant in Hispaniola, but were hunted for their meat and became relatively rare by the end of the 19th century. The use of manatee body parts diversified with time to include their oil, skin, and bones. Traditional uses for folk medicine and handcrafts persist today in coastal communities in the Dominican Republic. Most threats to Antillean manatees in Hispaniola are anthropogenic in nature, and most mortality is caused by fisheries. I estimated a minimum island-wide annual mortality of approximately 20 animals. To understand the impact of this level of mortality, and to provide a baseline for measuring the success of future conservation actions, the Dominican Republic and Haiti should work together to obtain a reliable estimate of the current population size of manatees in Hispaniola.
In Haiti, the survey of fishers showed a wider distribution range of the species than suggested by the documentary archive review: fishers reported recent manatee sightings in seven of nine coastal departments, and three manatee hotspot areas were identified in the north, central, and south coasts. Thus, the contracted manatee distribution range suggested by the documentary archive review likely reflects a lack of research in Haiti. Both the review and the interviews agreed that manatees no longer occupy freshwater habitats in the country. In general, more dedicated manatee studies are needed in Haiti, employing aerial, land, or boat surveys.
In the Dominican Republic, the documentary archive review and the survey of fishers showed that manatees still occur throughout the country, and occasionally occupy freshwater habitats. Monte Cristi province in the north coast, and Barahona province in the south coast, were identified as focal areas. Sighting reports of manatees decreased from Monte Cristi eastwards to the adjacent province in the Dominican Republic, and westwards into Haiti. Along the north coast of Haiti, the number of manatee sighting and capture reports decreased with increasing distance to Monte Cristi province. There was good agreement among the modeled manatee hotspots, hotspots identified by fishers, and hotspots identified during previous dedicated manatee studies. The concordance of these results suggests that the distribution and patterns of habitat use of manatees in the Dominican Republic have not changed dramatically in over 30 years, and that the remaining manatees exhibit some degree of site fidelity. The ensemble modeling approach used in the present study produced accurate and detailed maps of manatee distribution with minimum data requirements. This modeling strategy is replicable and readily transferable to other countries in the Caribbean or elsewhere with limited data on a species of interest.
The intrinsic value of manatees was stronger for artisanal fishers in the Dominican Republic than in Haiti, and most Dominican fishers showed a positive attitude towards manatee conservation. The Dominican Republic is an upper middle income country with a high Human Development Index. It possesses a legal framework that specifically protects manatees, and has a greater number of marine protected areas, more dedicated manatee studies, and more manatee education and awareness campaigns than Haiti. The constant presence of manatees in specific coastal segments of the Dominican Republic, the perceived decline in the number of manatee captures, and a more conservation-minded public, offer hope for manatee conservation, as non-consumptive uses of manatees become more popular. I recommend a series of conservation actions in the Dominican Republic, including: reducing risks to manatees from harmful fishing gear and watercraft at confirmed manatee hotspots; providing alternative economic alternatives for displaced fishers, and developing responsible ecotourism ventures for manatee watching; improving law enforcement to reduce fisheries-related manatee deaths, stop the illegal trade in manatee body parts, and better protect manatee habitat; and continuing education and awareness campaigns for coastal communities near manatee hotspots.
In contrast, most fishers in Haiti continue to value manatees as a source of food and income, and showed a generally negative attitude towards manatee conservation. Haiti is a low income country with a low Human Development Index. Only a single dedicated manatee study has been conducted in Haiti, and manatees are not officially protected. Positive initiatives for manatees in Haiti include: protected areas declared in 2013 and 2014 that enclose two of the manatee hotspots identified in the present study; and local organizations that are currently working on coastal and marine environmental issues, including research and education on marine mammals. Future conservation efforts for manatees in Haiti should focus on addressing poverty and providing viable economic alternatives for coastal communities. I recommend a community partnership approach for manatee conservation, paired with education and awareness campaigns to inform coastal communities about the conservation situation of manatees in Haiti, and to help change their perceived value. Haiti should also provide legal protection for manatees and their habitat.
Resumo:
Human use of the oceans is increasingly in conflict with conservation of endangered species. Methods for managing the spatial and temporal placement of industries such as military, fishing, transportation and offshore energy, have historically been post hoc; i.e. the time and place of human activity is often already determined before assessment of environmental impacts. In this dissertation, I build robust species distribution models in two case study areas, US Atlantic (Best et al. 2012) and British Columbia (Best et al. 2015), predicting presence and abundance respectively, from scientific surveys. These models are then applied to novel decision frameworks for preemptively suggesting optimal placement of human activities in space and time to minimize ecological impacts: siting for offshore wind energy development, and routing ships to minimize risk of striking whales. Both decision frameworks relate the tradeoff between conservation risk and industry profit with synchronized variable and map views as online spatial decision support systems.
For siting offshore wind energy development (OWED) in the U.S. Atlantic (chapter 4), bird density maps are combined across species with weights of OWED sensitivity to collision and displacement and 10 km2 sites are compared against OWED profitability based on average annual wind speed at 90m hub heights and distance to transmission grid. A spatial decision support system enables toggling between the map and tradeoff plot views by site. A selected site can be inspected for sensitivity to a cetaceans throughout the year, so as to capture months of the year which minimize episodic impacts of pre-operational activities such as seismic airgun surveying and pile driving.
Routing ships to avoid whale strikes (chapter 5) can be similarly viewed as a tradeoff, but is a different problem spatially. A cumulative cost surface is generated from density surface maps and conservation status of cetaceans, before applying as a resistance surface to calculate least-cost routes between start and end locations, i.e. ports and entrance locations to study areas. Varying a multiplier to the cost surface enables calculation of multiple routes with different costs to conservation of cetaceans versus cost to transportation industry, measured as distance. Similar to the siting chapter, a spatial decisions support system enables toggling between the map and tradeoff plot view of proposed routes. The user can also input arbitrary start and end locations to calculate the tradeoff on the fly.
Essential to the input of these decision frameworks are distributions of the species. The two preceding chapters comprise species distribution models from two case study areas, U.S. Atlantic (chapter 2) and British Columbia (chapter 3), predicting presence and density, respectively. Although density is preferred to estimate potential biological removal, per Marine Mammal Protection Act requirements in the U.S., all the necessary parameters, especially distance and angle of observation, are less readily available across publicly mined datasets.
In the case of predicting cetacean presence in the U.S. Atlantic (chapter 2), I extracted datasets from the online OBIS-SEAMAP geo-database, and integrated scientific surveys conducted by ship (n=36) and aircraft (n=16), weighting a Generalized Additive Model by minutes surveyed within space-time grid cells to harmonize effort between the two survey platforms. For each of 16 cetacean species guilds, I predicted the probability of occurrence from static environmental variables (water depth, distance to shore, distance to continental shelf break) and time-varying conditions (monthly sea-surface temperature). To generate maps of presence vs. absence, Receiver Operator Characteristic (ROC) curves were used to define the optimal threshold that minimizes false positive and false negative error rates. I integrated model outputs, including tables (species in guilds, input surveys) and plots (fit of environmental variables, ROC curve), into an online spatial decision support system, allowing for easy navigation of models by taxon, region, season, and data provider.
For predicting cetacean density within the inner waters of British Columbia (chapter 3), I calculated density from systematic, line-transect marine mammal surveys over multiple years and seasons (summer 2004, 2005, 2008, and spring/autumn 2007) conducted by Raincoast Conservation Foundation. Abundance estimates were calculated using two different methods: Conventional Distance Sampling (CDS) and Density Surface Modelling (DSM). CDS generates a single density estimate for each stratum, whereas DSM explicitly models spatial variation and offers potential for greater precision by incorporating environmental predictors. Although DSM yields a more relevant product for the purposes of marine spatial planning, CDS has proven to be useful in cases where there are fewer observations available for seasonal and inter-annual comparison, particularly for the scarcely observed elephant seal. Abundance estimates are provided on a stratum-specific basis. Steller sea lions and harbour seals are further differentiated by ‘hauled out’ and ‘in water’. This analysis updates previous estimates (Williams & Thomas 2007) by including additional years of effort, providing greater spatial precision with the DSM method over CDS, novel reporting for spring and autumn seasons (rather than summer alone), and providing new abundance estimates for Steller sea lion and northern elephant seal. In addition to providing a baseline of marine mammal abundance and distribution, against which future changes can be compared, this information offers the opportunity to assess the risks posed to marine mammals by existing and emerging threats, such as fisheries bycatch, ship strikes, and increased oil spill and ocean noise issues associated with increases of container ship and oil tanker traffic in British Columbia’s continental shelf waters.
Starting with marine animal observations at specific coordinates and times, I combine these data with environmental data, often satellite derived, to produce seascape predictions generalizable in space and time. These habitat-based models enable prediction of encounter rates and, in the case of density surface models, abundance that can then be applied to management scenarios. Specific human activities, OWED and shipping, are then compared within a tradeoff decision support framework, enabling interchangeable map and tradeoff plot views. These products make complex processes transparent for gaming conservation, industry and stakeholders towards optimal marine spatial management, fundamental to the tenets of marine spatial planning, ecosystem-based management and dynamic ocean management.
Resumo:
Sound is a key sensory modality for Hawaiian spinner dolphins. Like many other marine animals, these dolphins rely on sound and their acoustic environment for many aspects of their daily lives, making it is essential to understand soundscape in areas that are critical to their survival. Hawaiian spinner dolphins rest during the day in shallow coastal areas and forage offshore at night. In my dissertation I focus on the soundscape of the bays where Hawaiian spinner dolphins rest taking a soundscape ecology approach. I primarily relied on passive acoustic monitoring using four DSG-Ocean acoustic loggers in four Hawaiian spinner dolphin resting bays on the Kona Coast of Hawai‛i Island. 30-second recordings were made every four minutes in each of the bays for 20 to 27 months between January 8, 2011 and March 30, 2013. I also utilized concomitant vessel-based visual surveys in the four bays to provide context for these recordings. In my first chapter I used the contributions of the dolphins to the soundscape to monitor presence in the bays and found the degree of presence varied greatly from less than 40% to nearly 90% of days monitored with dolphins present. Having established these bays as important to the animals, in my second chapter I explored the many components of their resting bay soundscape and evaluated the influence of natural and human events on the soundscape. I characterized the overall soundscape in each of the four bays, used the tsunami event of March 2011 to approximate a natural soundscape and identified all loud daytime outliers. Overall, sound levels were consistently louder at night and quieter during the daytime due to the sounds from snapping shrimp. In fact, peak Hawaiian spinner dolphin resting time co-occurs with the quietest part of the day. However, I also found that humans drastically alter this daytime soundscape with sound from offshore aquaculture, vessel sound and military mid-frequency active sonar. During one recorded mid-frequency active sonar event in August 2011, sound pressure levels in the 3.15 kHz 1/3rd-octave band were as high as 45.8 dB above median ambient noise levels. Human activity both inside (vessels) and outside (sonar and aquaculture) the bays significantly altered the resting bay soundscape. Inside the bays there are high levels of human activity including vessel-based tourism directly targeting the dolphins. The interactions between humans and dolphins in their resting bays are of concern; therefore, my third chapter aimed to assess the acoustic response of the dolphins to human activity. Using days where acoustic recordings overlapped with visual surveys I found the greatest response in a bay with dolphin-centric activities, not in the bay with the most vessel activity, indicating that it is not the magnitude that elicits a response but the focus of the activity. In my fourth chapter I summarize the key results from my first three chapters to illustrate the power of multiple site design to prioritize action to protect Hawaiian spinner dolphins in their resting bays, a chapter I hope will be useful for managers should they take further action to protect the dolphins.
Resumo:
The ultimate goal of wildlife recovery is abundance growth of a species, though it must also involve the reestablishment of the species’ ecological role within ecosystems frequently modified by humans. Reestablishment and subsequent recovery may depend on the species’ degree of adaptive behavior as well as the duration of their functional absence and the extent of ecosystem alteration. In cases of long extirpations or extensive alteration, successful reestablishment may entail adjusting foraging behavior, targeting new prey species, and encountering unfamiliar predatory or competitive regimes. Recovering species must also increasingly tolerate heightened anthropogenic presence, particularly within densely inhabited coastal zones. In recent decades, gray seals (Halichoerus grypus) recovered from exploitation, depletion, and partial extirpation in the Northwest Atlantic. On Cape Cod, MA, USA, gray seals have reestablished growing breeding colonies and seasonally interact with migratory white sharks (Carcarodon carcharias). Though well-studied in portions of their range due to concerns over piscivorous impacts on valuable groundfish, there are broad knowledge gaps regarding their ecological role to US marine ecosystems. Furthermore, there are few studies that explicitly analyze gray seal behavior under direct risk of documented shark predation.
In this dissertation, I apply a behavioral and movement ecology approach to telemetry data to understand gray seal abundance and activity patterns along the coast of Cape Cod. This coastal focus complements extensive research documenting and describing offshore movement and foraging behavior and allows me to address questions about movement decisions and risk allocation. Using beach counts of seals visible in satellite imagery, I estimate the total regional abundance of gray seals using correction factors from haul out behavior and demonstrate a sizeable prey base of gray seals locally. Analyzing intra-annual space use patterns, I document small, concentrated home ranges utilizing nearshore habitats that rapidly expand with shifting activity budgets to target disperse offshore habitats following seasonal declines in white sharks. During the season of dense shark presence, seals conducted abbreviated nocturnal foraging trips structured temporally around divergent use of crepuscular periods. The timing of coastal behavior with different levels of twilight indicate risk allocation patterns with diel cycles of empirical white shark activity. The emergence of risk allocation to explain unique behavioral and spatial patterns observed in these gray seals points to the importance of the restored predator-prey dynamic in gray seal behavior along Cape Cod.