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‘Currents bring life – and plastics’: animals of Galápagos live amid mounds of waste

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Tuesday, April 23, 2024

As our small fishing boat slows to a halt in a shallow bay south-east of Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, in the Galápagos Islands, a green turtle surfaces next to us, followed by a second, then a third a few metres away. A spotted eagle ray glides underneath the vessel.The skipper, Don Nelson, steps on to the black volcanic reef, slippery with algae. We follow, past exposed mangrove roots and up on to higher ground. Pelicans swooping into the trees and small birds, perching on branches, ignore our approach.This remote archipelago still hosts the unique species such as giant tortoises and finches that inspired the naturalist Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution almost two centuries ago, and it is impossible not to be struck by the apparent harmony with which animals coexist with humans here.But then, up ahead, a jarring sight: a marine iguana, a notable Galápagos species found nowhere else in the world, sits atop a mound of plastic litter – fishing buoys, oil drums, household containers and drinks bottles – pushed on to the reef by high spring tides. The prehistoric-looking reptile, classed as vulnerable by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), is among the species here most at risk from plastic.“These reefs are resting places for pelicans and marine iguanas,” says Mariana Vera, Galápagos programme manager of Conservation International. “There are a lot of turtles because it is the nesting season. It is overwhelming and sad to see them full of plastic.”Mariana Vera, Galápagos programme manager of Conservation International, removes plastic fishing ropes wrapped around mangrove roots. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The GuardianResearch has found that most of the plastic washed up here comes from Peru, Ecuador and China. Plastic originating in Asia is unlikely to have reached the Galápagos by ocean currents, according to a 2019 study, which suggests that items with Asian labels are likely to have come from nearby fishing boats.Globally, about 20% of plastic pollution in the ocean comes from maritime sources, but in the Galápagos, although estimates vary greatly, that figure could be as high as 40%, according to research due to be published by the Galápagos marine reserve and the Galápagos Conservation Trust.We find pollution on all the islands but there are hotspots where tides and currents gatherIt has been four years since news of a massive fishing fleet of hundreds of mostly Chinese vessels surrounding the edge of this reserve shocked the world. It led to a vow, from the then president of Ecuador, Lenín Moreno, to protect what he described as “a seedbed of life for the entire planet”, and various diplomatic agreements between the countries.Since then, the Chinese fishing fleet has reportedly kept a greater distance from Ecuador’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ), an area extending 200 nautical miles beyond its coast, throughout which it has jurisdiction over marine resources.But the illegal dumping of plastic waste from its fishing vessels in the high seas – outside the EEZ – along with the other plastic from mainland Latin America, continues. “The problem is constant,” says Rodrigo Robalino, the Galápagos national park’s environmental manager, who accompanies us.The islands are the second most important nesting and feeding area for marine turtles, listed as endangered by the IUCN, after Mexico.Rodrigo Robalino, the Galápagos marine reserve’s environmental manager. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian“We find pollution like this on all the islands but there are hotspots where the tides and currents gather,” says Robalino. The windward shores have a heavier burden of plastic.We walk past huge columns of cactus to a further tideline of sun-bleached mangrove roots, strewn with mainly clear plastic drinks bottles.The pollution is recent, Robalino says, because it is clear, with no barnacles attached. We count 21 bottles in all, among strands of fishing line. Six, including a soap dispenser, have Asian labels; three are Peruvian, with brands including Inca Kola, a joint Peruvian and Coca-Cola brand, and Sporade, made by AJE and sold all over Latin America. Those with labels include international brands including Dasani, made by Coca-Cola, and PepsiCo’s Gatorade.“These plastic bottles are coming from other countries in the region,” says Robalino. “But also from international fishing fleets, including the Chinese fleet that surrounds the marine reserve.”Twice a week, the reserve organises clean-ups of the four inhabited islands: Isabela, Floreana, San Cristóbal and Santa Cruz. Plastic is shipped to Guayaquil, 600 miles away in Ecuador, to be recycled or landfilled.Last year, they collected 13m tonnes. For the more remote islands (there are 13 major islands and many more smaller ones), only occasional clean-ups are possible. They are more difficult to access and it can cost up to $2,000 (£1,600) and take up to 15 days to get there, clean up the beaches and return. From May to November, weather conditions make it impossible to reach many islands. For Robalino, Vera and the fishers and community volunteers who take part, the clean ups are a sisyphean task. But they have no choice.A yellow warbler nest perches on its nest, made out of plastic as well as grass, on the Galápagos Islands. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian“If we don’t do it, the plastic breaks down into fibres that birds often use for nests, and then into microplastics, which can be carried by the wind or go into the ocean,” says Robalino. Contaminated with chemicals, microplastics can be toxic and cause genetic damage to marine life and humans when ingested.The waters around the Galápagos islands, which were designated a Unesco heritage site in 1978, are among the richest on Earth for biodiversity, partly due to their location amid three major ocean currents. The largest, the Humboldt current, sweeps cold, nutrient-rich water from Antarctica along the coasts of Chile and Peru, before turning west to the islands.Thanks to the protection offered by the marine reserve, biodiversity on the islands, 97% of which are uninhabited, remains relatively undisturbed. But the currents, with their rich nutrients, have led to two of the largest threats: overfishing and plastic pollution.“Currents are a source of life in the Galápagos,” says Nicolás Moity, a marine ecologist at the Charles Darwin Foundation on Santa Cruz. “They brought the species here at the beginning. The early giant tortoises came from the mainland as small tortoises and evolved here.skip past newsletter promotionSign up to Global DispatchGet a different world view with a roundup of the best news, features and pictures, curated by our global development teamPrivacy Notice: Newsletters may contain info about charities, online ads, and content funded by outside parties. For more information see our Privacy Policy. We use Google reCaptcha to protect our website and the Google Privacy Policy and Terms of Service apply.after newsletter promotion“You have warm and cold currents intermingling, creating an amazing plethora of life. You have penguins and corals in the same place.“But now, in this globalised world, the currents are bringing plastics to the Galápagos,” he says.Asian labels found on water bottles along the tideline in Santa Cruz, probably from fishing vessels. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The GuardianMoity, who is working with the reserve and environmental organisations to identify how the plastic accumulation sites affect biodiversity so they can better target clean-ups, says that after some plastic-picking trips, “you come back three days later and you see the same”.Three years ago, Moity examined sea urchins and found that 75% of them had ingested microplastics. “Microplastics get ingested by everything from zooplankton to bigger animals – and we don’t know the effect,” he says.Many of the animals most at risk from plastic entanglement or ingestion are also under threat from other human activities, including degraded habitats and climate breakdown: the critically endangered Santa Cruz giant tortoises, endangered green turtles, vulnerable marine iguanas, endangered Galápagos sea lions and whale sharks, according to a paper in 2023. Earlier this year, another study showed giant tortoises were eating plastic, mistaking it for food, with up to 86% of the debris found in tortoise faeces being plastic.Ecuador has bid to host the signing of the UN plastics treaty, the first legally binding global treaty to halt plastic waste, in the Galápagos. The latest talks towards the treaty are under way this week in the Canadian capital, Ottawa, until 29 April. The aim is to complete negotiations by the end of 2024 and for the treaty to be signed in 2025.Dr Jen Jones, chief executive of the UK-based Galápagos Conservation Trust, is working with the marine reserve to finalise a five-year study on plastic pollution. She expects to present some of the findings at this week’s talks.“We have looked at multi-year datasets from clean-ups, looking at all plastics, bottles fishing gear, such as ropes and other items,” says Jones. She found a higher percentage of the plastic – “at least 40%” – came from maritime sources than previous research on plastic bottles suggested, which put the figure at about 13%.The trust is also hosting a mini-summit for small islands in the Pacific, which suffer a similarly unfair burden of plastic pollution as the Galápagos, to highlight the islanders’ role in protecting the world’s biodiversity and to urge more powerful nations to address the unfair burden of plastic pollution.“This is a social justice issue,” says Jones.If the plastic is not collected, it breaks down into microplastics, which are ingested by wildlife. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The GuardianSenegal, Peru and Rwanda have also put forward bids to the UN at the treaty negotiations to have the resultant agreement signed in their countries.The incoming chair of the talks in Canada, Luis Vayas Valdivieso, who is also the Ecuadorian ambassador to the UK, has an impartial role in the negotiations. But Valdivieso, who has recently returned from Rapa Nui, or Easter Island, a Chilean territory in Polynesia, where he witnessed plastic pollution, says he understands the unfair burden islanders and small-island nations face.“I see the concern from the islands and the people from the islands,” he says. “They are making huge efforts. In the Galápagos and other islands they have special legislation – they don’t use single-use plastics, but still they are seeing pollution.“You can have the best national legislation in the world, to ban plastics. But if you don’t have a global agreement, it won’t work.”

As diplomats search for a way to curb the world’s growing problem of plastic, bottles, buoys, nets and packaging are piling up on what should be one of the most pristine environmentsAs our small fishing boat slows to a halt in a shallow bay south-east of Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, in the Galápagos Islands, a green turtle surfaces next to us, followed by a second, then a third a few metres away. A spotted eagle ray glides underneath the vessel.The skipper, Don Nelson, steps on to the black volcanic reef, slippery with algae. We follow, past exposed mangrove roots and up on to higher ground. Pelicans swooping into the trees and small birds, perching on branches, ignore our approach. Continue reading...

As our small fishing boat slows to a halt in a shallow bay south-east of Puerto Ayora, Santa Cruz, in the Galápagos Islands, a green turtle surfaces next to us, followed by a second, then a third a few metres away. A spotted eagle ray glides underneath the vessel.

The skipper, Don Nelson, steps on to the black volcanic reef, slippery with algae. We follow, past exposed mangrove roots and up on to higher ground. Pelicans swooping into the trees and small birds, perching on branches, ignore our approach.

This remote archipelago still hosts the unique species such as giant tortoises and finches that inspired the naturalist Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution almost two centuries ago, and it is impossible not to be struck by the apparent harmony with which animals coexist with humans here.

But then, up ahead, a jarring sight: a marine iguana, a notable Galápagos species found nowhere else in the world, sits atop a mound of plastic litter – fishing buoys, oil drums, household containers and drinks bottles – pushed on to the reef by high spring tides. The prehistoric-looking reptile, classed as vulnerable by the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), is among the species here most at risk from plastic.

“These reefs are resting places for pelicans and marine iguanas,” says Mariana Vera, Galápagos programme manager of Conservation International. “There are a lot of turtles because it is the nesting season. It is overwhelming and sad to see them full of plastic.”

Mariana Vera, Galápagos programme manager of Conservation International, removes plastic fishing ropes wrapped around mangrove roots. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian

Research has found that most of the plastic washed up here comes from Peru, Ecuador and China. Plastic originating in Asia is unlikely to have reached the Galápagos by ocean currents, according to a 2019 study, which suggests that items with Asian labels are likely to have come from nearby fishing boats.

Globally, about 20% of plastic pollution in the ocean comes from maritime sources, but in the Galápagos, although estimates vary greatly, that figure could be as high as 40%, according to research due to be published by the Galápagos marine reserve and the Galápagos Conservation Trust.

It has been four years since news of a massive fishing fleet of hundreds of mostly Chinese vessels surrounding the edge of this reserve shocked the world. It led to a vow, from the then president of Ecuador, Lenín Moreno, to protect what he described as “a seedbed of life for the entire planet”, and various diplomatic agreements between the countries.

Since then, the Chinese fishing fleet has reportedly kept a greater distance from Ecuador’s exclusive economic zone (EEZ), an area extending 200 nautical miles beyond its coast, throughout which it has jurisdiction over marine resources.

But the illegal dumping of plastic waste from its fishing vessels in the high seas – outside the EEZ – along with the other plastic from mainland Latin America, continues. “The problem is constant,” says Rodrigo Robalino, the Galápagos national park’s environmental manager, who accompanies us.

The islands are the second most important nesting and feeding area for marine turtles, listed as endangered by the IUCN, after Mexico.

Rodrigo Robalino, the Galápagos marine reserve’s environmental manager. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian

“We find pollution like this on all the islands but there are hotspots where the tides and currents gather,” says Robalino. The windward shores have a heavier burden of plastic.

We walk past huge columns of cactus to a further tideline of sun-bleached mangrove roots, strewn with mainly clear plastic drinks bottles.

The pollution is recent, Robalino says, because it is clear, with no barnacles attached. We count 21 bottles in all, among strands of fishing line. Six, including a soap dispenser, have Asian labels; three are Peruvian, with brands including Inca Kola, a joint Peruvian and Coca-Cola brand, and Sporade, made by AJE and sold all over Latin America. Those with labels include international brands including Dasani, made by Coca-Cola, and PepsiCo’s Gatorade.

“These plastic bottles are coming from other countries in the region,” says Robalino. “But also from international fishing fleets, including the Chinese fleet that surrounds the marine reserve.”Twice a week, the reserve organises clean-ups of the four inhabited islands: Isabela, Floreana, San Cristóbal and Santa Cruz. Plastic is shipped to Guayaquil, 600 miles away in Ecuador, to be recycled or landfilled.

Last year, they collected 13m tonnes. For the more remote islands (there are 13 major islands and many more smaller ones), only occasional clean-ups are possible. They are more difficult to access and it can cost up to $2,000 (£1,600) and take up to 15 days to get there, clean up the beaches and return. From May to November, weather conditions make it impossible to reach many islands. For Robalino, Vera and the fishers and community volunteers who take part, the clean ups are a sisyphean task. But they have no choice.

A yellow warbler nest perches on its nest, made out of plastic as well as grass, on the Galápagos Islands. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian

“If we don’t do it, the plastic breaks down into fibres that birds often use for nests, and then into microplastics, which can be carried by the wind or go into the ocean,” says Robalino. Contaminated with chemicals, microplastics can be toxic and cause genetic damage to marine life and humans when ingested.

The waters around the Galápagos islands, which were designated a Unesco heritage site in 1978, are among the richest on Earth for biodiversity, partly due to their location amid three major ocean currents. The largest, the Humboldt current, sweeps cold, nutrient-rich water from Antarctica along the coasts of Chile and Peru, before turning west to the islands.

Thanks to the protection offered by the marine reserve, biodiversity on the islands, 97% of which are uninhabited, remains relatively undisturbed. But the currents, with their rich nutrients, have led to two of the largest threats: overfishing and plastic pollution.

“Currents are a source of life in the Galápagos,” says Nicolás Moity, a marine ecologist at the Charles Darwin Foundation on Santa Cruz. “They brought the species here at the beginning. The early giant tortoises came from the mainland as small tortoises and evolved here.

skip past newsletter promotion

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“You have warm and cold currents intermingling, creating an amazing plethora of life. You have penguins and corals in the same place.

“But now, in this globalised world, the currents are bringing plastics to the Galápagos,” he says.

Asian labels found on water bottles along the tideline in Santa Cruz, probably from fishing vessels. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian

Moity, who is working with the reserve and environmental organisations to identify how the plastic accumulation sites affect biodiversity so they can better target clean-ups, says that after some plastic-picking trips, “you come back three days later and you see the same”.

Three years ago, Moity examined sea urchins and found that 75% of them had ingested microplastics. “Microplastics get ingested by everything from zooplankton to bigger animals – and we don’t know the effect,” he says.

Many of the animals most at risk from plastic entanglement or ingestion are also under threat from other human activities, including degraded habitats and climate breakdown: the critically endangered Santa Cruz giant tortoises, endangered green turtles, vulnerable marine iguanas, endangered Galápagos sea lions and whale sharks, according to a paper in 2023. Earlier this year, another study showed giant tortoises were eating plastic, mistaking it for food, with
up to 86% of the debris found in tortoise faeces being plastic.

Ecuador has bid to host the signing of the UN plastics treaty, the first legally binding global treaty to halt plastic waste, in the Galápagos. The latest talks towards the treaty are under way this week in the Canadian capital, Ottawa, until 29 April. The aim is to complete negotiations by the end of 2024 and for the treaty to be signed in 2025.

Dr Jen Jones, chief executive of the UK-based Galápagos Conservation Trust, is working with the marine reserve to finalise a five-year study on plastic pollution. She expects to present some of the findings at this week’s talks.

“We have looked at multi-year datasets from clean-ups, looking at all plastics, bottles fishing gear, such as ropes and other items,” says Jones. She found a higher percentage of the plastic – “at least 40%” – came from maritime sources than previous research on plastic bottles suggested, which put the figure at about 13%.

The trust is also hosting a mini-summit for small islands in the Pacific, which suffer a similarly unfair burden of plastic pollution as the Galápagos, to highlight the islanders’ role in protecting the world’s biodiversity and to urge more powerful nations to address the unfair burden of plastic pollution.

“This is a social justice issue,” says Jones.

If the plastic is not collected, it breaks down into microplastics, which are ingested by wildlife. Photograph: Joshua Vela Fonseca/The Guardian

Senegal, Peru and Rwanda have also put forward bids to the UN at the treaty negotiations to have the resultant agreement signed in their countries.

The incoming chair of the talks in Canada, Luis Vayas Valdivieso, who is also the Ecuadorian ambassador to the UK, has an impartial role in the negotiations. But Valdivieso, who has recently returned from Rapa Nui, or Easter Island, a Chilean territory in Polynesia, where he witnessed plastic pollution, says he understands the unfair burden islanders and small-island nations face.

“I see the concern from the islands and the people from the islands,” he says. “They are making huge efforts. In the Galápagos and other islands they have special legislation – they don’t use single-use plastics, but still they are seeing pollution.

“You can have the best national legislation in the world, to ban plastics. But if you don’t have a global agreement, it won’t work.”

Read the full story here.
Photos courtesy of

Small Alligator Rescued in Boston After Slithering Into the City's Heart on Social Media

Wildlife officials say a small alligator spotted along the Charles River in Boston this week has been rescued and delivered to safety

BOSTON (AP) — It wasn’t a croc — there really was an alligator on the loose in Boston.And the story of the city's slithering saurian appears to have a happy ending. The small alligator, spotted along the Charles River in Boston multiple times this week, has been rescued and delivered to safety, wildlife officials in Massachusetts said Thursday.The approximately foot-long crocodilian startled a few people and became an instant star on social media after confused onlookers took videos of it slithering away from sight. But the animal is not native to Massachusetts, and couldn't possibly survive the harsh New England winter, so the search for the wayward gator was on.A local wildlife educator captured the critter on Wednesday night, and it's now awaiting a permanent home, officials said.Harvard University graduate student Whitney Lieberman was among the residents who caught a glimpse of the exotic visitor. She said she notified wildlife authorities when she saw the creature while she was jogging to work.“Yeah, I did a double-take. For a second, I had to check myself — alligators are not native to Boston waterways, right?” Lieberman said. “I texted my co-workers because I had a morning meeting: ‘Hey guys, this is a good excuse to be late for work. There is an alligator right in front of me and I don’t know what to do.'"The animal was in jeopardy due to the chilly temperatures on the Charles, which was 51 degrees Fahrenheit (32 degrees Celsius) on Thursday. Alligators prefer temperatures above 80 degrees Fahrenheit (27 degrees Celsius). They are cold-blooded and can't regulate their own temperature, so they enter a dormant, energy-saving state called brumation to survive colder temperatures.Joe Kenney, who runs a wildlife education business called Joe's Craz-zy Critters, captured the alligator, the Massachusetts Division of Fisheries and Wildlife said in a statement. The state has temporarily authorized Kenney to keep the alligator while it evaluates the best long-term placement for it, the department said.The wildlife department said the alligator's appearance is still being investigated, but added it was most likely a pet that escaped or was intentionally released.“MassWildlife is working in close collaboration with the Environmental Police to find a safe home for this alligator as an educational animal with a permitted facility. This incident serves as an important reminder that it is not legal to keep alligators or any crocodilian species as pets in Massachusetts,” state herpetologist Mike Jones said in a statement.Alligators have a history of occasionally showing up in urban areas far from their native ranges. One, dubbed Chance the Snapper, turned up in Chicago in summer 2019 and was eventually trapped. Another one showed up on the Charles River in the Boston area in 2010.Whittle reported from Scarborough, Maine.Copyright 2025 The Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten or redistributed.Photos You Should See – Oct. 2025

What we’ve done to the salmon

This story is part of a series supported by Animal Charity Evaluators, which received a grant from EarthShare. The last few decades have seen, arguably, the most sweeping transformation in how humans produce meat, and it has nothing to do with chickens, pigs, or cows. It has to do with fish. Traditionally, the vast majority […]

Farming salmon is bad at any stage of the fishs’ lives. This story is part of a series supported by Animal Charity Evaluators, which received a grant from EarthShare. The last few decades have seen, arguably, the most sweeping transformation in how humans produce meat, and it has nothing to do with chickens, pigs, or cows. It has to do with fish. Inside this story Over half of the world’s seafood now comes from fish farms, which resemble underwater factory farms. Chickens, pigs, and cows were domesticated over thousands of years, but fish have been domesticated in under a century. It’s created serious welfare issues, especially for salmon. Salmon are carnivorous and migrate thousands of miles. On farms, they’re reduced to swimming in small tanks and eating pellets. Fish farming has taken over the seafood sector, but some experts argue that it’s moved too fast, and we need to better understand welfare issues. Traditionally, the vast majority of fish that people consume has come from the ocean. But in 2022, humanity hit a significant milestone: Seafood companies began to raise more fish on farms than they caught from the sea. And they farm astonishingly large numbers of fish — in tiny, cramped enclosures that resemble underwater factory farms.  It amounts to the fastest and largest animal domestication project that humanity has ever undertaken.  For most of the land animals we eat today, domestication — or, as French fish researcher Fabrice Teletchea defined it, the “long and endless process during which animals become, generations after generations, more adapted to both captive conditions and humans” — has taken place over thousands of years. “In contrast,” a team of marine biologists wrote in the journal Science in 2007, the rise of fish farming “is a contemporary phenomenon,” taking off on a commercial scale around the 1970s.  By the early 2000s, humans were farming well over 200 aquatic animal species, virtually all of which had been domesticated or forced into unnatural conditions in extreme captivity over the course of the previous century, with many in just the prior decade. To put it another way, the marine biologists wrote, aquatic domestication occurred 100 times faster than the domestication of land animals — and on a vastly larger scale. Today, some 80 billion land animals are farmed annually, while an estimated 763 billion fish and crustaceans are farmed each year, a figure projected to quickly grow in the decade ahead. What’s more, this attempt to speedrun domestication occurred even as a clear scientific consensus emerged in recent decades that fish can suffer and feel pain. The revolution in how humans produce seafood has enormous implications for our relationship with species we’ve barely given any thought to. To understand why, consider America’s favorite fish to eat, and one of the most difficult to farm: salmon.  Like farming tigers Salmon farming is a relatively new industry, and it emerged largely in response to manmade problems.  Over the last century, overfishing — combined with industrial pollution, climate change, and heavy damming — has decimated wild Atlantic salmon populations. By 2000, the species gained protection under the Endangered Species Act after it was nearly driven to extinction in the US, effectively banning the commercial fishing of Atlantic salmon. Salmon populations in Europe, along with Pacific salmon populations on the West Coast of the US and beyond, have also experienced significant declines.  To take pressure off depleted wild populations, seafood producers began to scale salmon farming in the 1970s, with ample help from governments in the form of R&D, grants, state financing programs, and more. It’s proven to be a smashing commercial success. Last year, salmon farming companies — which are most concentrated in Norway, Chile, and the UK and export their product around the world — produced 2.8 million metric tons of the fish, or around 560 million individual salmon. They’re typically raised in tanks on land until they’re a year old then transferred to nets and cages floating in the ocean just offshore to be fattened up and eventually slaughtered (they’re supposed to be rendered unconscious prior to slaughter, with either electric stunning or a club to the head, though some aren’t successfully stunned). About one out of every five are shipped off to the US, where “young affluent consumers love to eat salmon,” according to the Norwegian company Mowi, the world’s biggest salmon producer. This taste for salmon and the farming industry it has necessitated has, in just a few generations, dramatically transformed what it means to be a salmon. In the wild, salmon live incredibly complex lives and embark on epic journeys. But on farms, they can’t do any of that.  According to Becca Franks, an assistant professor of environmental studies at New York University, salmon farming has created grave welfare problems by denying the animals the ability to engage in two of their essential natural behaviors: migrating and hunting.  In the US, Atlantic salmon begin their lives as eggs buried a foot under freshwater riverbeds in Maine, where they remain for six months until they hatch and emerge in search of food. At a few years old, they migrate hundreds of miles northward into the salty Atlantic ocean, then hundreds of miles further out into the Labrador Sea, near Greenland. There, they quickly put on weight — feeding on krill, herring, and crustaceans — which they’ll need for the long journey home that they make after a couple years of dining out at sea. Following scents and using the earth’s magnetic field, Atlantic salmon swim over 1,000 miles back to their home streams to spawn the next generation.  The salmon’s life cycle inspires more awe and reverence than most species in the animal kingdom, but on farms, they’re reduced to swimming in tiny circles for years and subsisting on small, manmade pellets. Their “welfare is harmed through loss of agency and choice,” Franks told me in an email. She likens salmon farming to trying to farm tigers.   Sophie Ryan, CEO of the Global Salmon Initiative — a coalition of salmon farming companies — challenged the idea that domestication has harmed salmon. “They have been domesticated over more than 50 years — similar to cattle or poultry — and have been selectively bred to thrive in a farm environment,” Ryan told me in an email. “Their nutritional needs, swimming patterns, and energy use are different from wild salmon, because their environment and purpose are different.” The selective breeding that Ryan speaks of has been used to make farmed salmon grow twice as fast as their wild counterparts, which has led to a number of serious health issues: heart problems, spinal deformities, high levels of deafness, and increased risk of an early death. They’re also more aggressive than wild salmon. To boost growth even further, salmon farms keep their lights on up to 24 hours a day, which makes the fish eat more and can damage their retinas. And in a concerning twist, the domestication of farmed salmon is hurting wild salmon. Since the 1970s, tens of millions of farmed salmon have managed to escape and compete for resources with wild salmon and even mate with them, leading to “genetic pollution” that has resulted in a hybrid line of salmon.  “We may now need to recognize a new biological entity — Salmo domesticus,” biologist Mart Gross wrote in a 1998 paper, “and treat it as an ‘exotic’ when it escapes into the wild.” Some research has found that these hybrid fish have lower survival rates. That means that the farming of salmon, which was intended to give wild salmon populations a break, created a new challenge for them. “Escape prevention is a top priority, with ongoing improvements in net strength, mooring systems, and real-time digital monitoring,” Ryan of the Global Salmon Initiative said. “Where escapes do occur, companies are required to report them and work with regulators to assess potential impacts on wild populations.” Franks considers fish farming a form of “captive dewilding”: the process of modifying animals to conform to captivity and to the harms that befall them as a result. And the reality of that captivity can be incredibly cruel. Fish farms up close In 2019, animal rights activist Erin Wing worked undercover with the group Animal Outlook for four months at a salmon hatchery in Maine operated by Cooke Aquaculture, one of the world’s largest salmon farming companies. Wing documented workers culling diseased fish by hitting them against the sides of tanks multiple times; fish thrown into buckets still alive, left to suffocate or be crushed to death by other fish; fish born with spinal deformities; and fish dying from nasty fungal diseases that ate away parts of their faces. “Over the years, you kinda get desensitized,” one employee told her.  In response to Wing’s investigation, Cooke Aquaculture CEO Glenn Cooke said in a statement that the company would re-train employees at the Maine facility. “We place animal welfare high in our operating standards and endeavor to raise our animals with optimal care and consideration of best practice,” Cooke said, adding that “what we saw today is most certainly not reflective of these standards.”  Wing, who has spent her career investigating factory farms, is skeptical of industry standards. “There are these [animal welfare] industry standards that are in place, and there are these guidelines, but at the end of the day, there’s not really any enforcement,” Wing told me. “So these farms will make up whatever rules they want that will work for them, for their workers, and then they’ll operate as they see fit. And that usually results in a lot of these animals suffering needlessly.”  Some of the suffering stems from putting farmed animals in the ocean, as crowding hundreds of thousands of salmon together in open waters attracts sea lice — tiny, painful parasites that feed on the salmon’s skin and can even kill them. In 2023, almost 17 percent of Norwegian farmed salmon died before they could be slaughtered for meat, largely from infectious diseases and injuries. To combat the scourge of sea lice, salmon farmers had, for years, dumped chemicals into the water to kill them, along with antibiotics and other chemicals to protect the fish from a range of fungal and viral diseases. These pollutants, combined with vast amounts of animal waste generated by the salmon, fall to the ocean floor and pollute marine ecosystems. That, in turn, contributes to what Franks calls “environmental dewilding,” or the process of modifying natural water bodies with artificial infrastructure — in this case, fish farm pens and cages — and polluting them. Sea lice have since developed resistance to these chemicals, so, over the last decade, salmon farmers have switched to other methods — including subjecting salmon to high heat — which can cause pain, injuries, and death.   The International Salmon Farmers Association and the Global Seafood Alliance didn’t respond to interview requests. Not just salmon  If we accept that farming salmon is bad for them and the environments in which they’re raised — and that we should protect dwindling wild populations — then we’ll have to accept eating a lot less salmon. We’ll also have to reconsider the ethical implications of farming many other fish species. Fair Fish, a team of fish welfare researchers, has compared the natural behavior and welfare needs of nearly 100 fish species with the conditions they experience on farms. Out of the 100 analyzed species, only two — tilapia and carp — have “the potential to be farmed in somewhat decent conditions,” according to João Saraiva, who researches fish ethology at the Centre of Marine Sciences in Faro, Portugal, and runs the nonprofit Fish Etho Group. But that doesn’t mean that they actually are; both tilapia and carp farms tend to be overcrowded, with poor water quality and high rates of disease. (Saraiva has worked with Fair Fish on its analyses but is no longer involved in the project.)  By contrast, he said, salmon is “way down on the list,” meaning it’s especially hard for farms to meet their basic welfare needs.  Fair Fish’s research demonstrates how little attention the fish farming industry, and the governments that helped it take over the seafood sector, has paid to the simple question of how its captives experience being farmed. It also illustrates the damage we can do when we flatten “fish” — an incredibly diverse group of species — into a monolith.  Franks said industry and government need to pump the brakes on the expansion of fish and crustacean farming, which is currently the world’s fastest-growing agricultural sector, noting, “I think we should not be farming any new species of fish or crustaceans and putting in transition programs for folks already farming those species to move towards seaweeds and bivalves.” The latter is a class of invertebrate animals that includes scallops, oysters, and mussels, which Franks said have far fewer environmental and welfare concerns than farmed fish and crustaceans (whether bivalves are sentient or can feel pain remains an ongoing scientific debate).   She’s one of the few academics studying fish farming willing to go there, to suggest that we ought to fundamentally rethink how we produce seafood and how much of it we consume. “I think there is a huge reluctance to even broach the possibility of shifting diets away” from animal protein, said Franks. When the global fish farming boom took off, many in the field had good intentions, and it looked good on paper; a way to boost the global food supply without further exploiting oceans. Plus, fish tend to have a lower carbon footprint than farmed land species (though higher than plant-based proteins). But few questions were asked about what it would mean, ethically and environmentally, to rapidly domesticate, then confine and slaughter, hundreds of billions of animals annually with distinct needs — let alone the capacity to feel pain.  Researchers like Saraiva and Franks are trying to convince the world to catch up with what we now know about fish and to further expand our knowledge. As consumers, we can help, and we can start by thinking twice about the salmon on our plates. 

Housing secretary tells Labour MPs to vote down planning bill amendment

Amendment restricts protection for animals to allow faster house buildingHousing secretary Steve Reed has told Labour MPs to vote down an amendment to the new planning bill intended to protect British wildlife and its habitats from destruction.The amendment, which was passed with a large majority in the House of Lords, restricts the most controversial part of the draft bill by removing protected animals such as dormice, badgers, hedgehogs, otters and nightingales, and rare habitats such as wetlands and ancient woodlands, from new rules which allow developers to sidestep environmental laws to speed up house building. Continue reading...

Housing secretary Steve Reed has told Labour MPs to vote down an amendment to the new planning bill intended to protect British wildlife and its habitats from destruction.The amendment, which was passed with a large majority in the House of Lords, restricts the most controversial part of the draft bill by removing protected animals such as dormice, badgers, hedgehogs, otters and nightingales, and rare habitats such as wetlands and ancient woodlands, from new rules which allow developers to sidestep environmental laws to speed up house building.Under the draft legislation proposed by Labour, developers will be able to pay into a national “nature recovery fund” and go ahead with their project straight away, instead of having to carry out an environmental survey and to first avoid, then mitigate damage, before putting spades into the ground.Experts say this is a regression on decades-old environmental law and it has been criticised as “cash to trash” by ecologists and environmental groups.The Lords’ amendment would mean the nature recovery fund is restricted to impacts from water and air pollution, meaning developers would still have to take the usual measures to mitigate damage to wildlife and habitats.Reed has recommended rejecting the amendment when the bill returns to the Commons on Thursday for the final stages before being passed into law.In a letter to MPs some of the UK’s biggest nature charities, including the Wildlife Trusts and RSPB, say the government rollback of environmental law “lacks any rigorous scientific or ecological justification.“There is no credible, published, or well established evidence that this model can simply be scaled or replicated for multiple species nationwide without risking serious ecological harm, legal uncertainty, and increased costs for both developers and land managers,” the letter reads.The Guardian revealed this week how the chancellor, Rachel Reeves, and housing minister Matthew Pennycook have met scores of developers in the past year over the planning bill. Reeves has not met a single environmental organisation or the body for professional ecologists, while Pennycook has had just four meetings with such groups, compared with 16 with leading developers.A spokesperson for the Ministry for Housing, Communities and Local Government said: “The planning and infrastructure bill will remove barriers to building vital new homes and infrastructure and this amendment is an unnecessary limit on the benefits which the nature restoration fund will create for both nature and the economy. There are already safeguards in our legislation to ensure environmental delivery plans are effective for the environment, as we get Britain building again and deliver the homes we need.”

I discovered a new Australian native bee, but there are still hundreds we need to identify

The discovery of a horned native bee that pollinates a rare plant highlights how little we know about Australian pollinators.

The female of the species has devil-like black horns, and a taste for extremely rare pollen. But until now, this Australian native bee has never been officially named or identified. My discovery of Megachile (Hackeriapis) lucifer, underscores the lack of knowledge and investment in Australia’s unique native bees. Whilst considerable funding and attention has been focused on the introduced European honey bee, Apis mellifera, there are still hundreds of native bees that are yet to be identified and named. How was this bee found? This fascinating new megachile (or leaf cutter) bee was first discovered while on a surveying trip in the Bremer Ranges in the goldfields region of Western Australia in 2019. I was conducting surveys for pollinators – such as bees, other insects, flies and wasps – of a critically endangered plant called Bremer marianthus, or Marianthus aquilonaris, which is only known in this region. Sadly, as is common for many threatened plant species, the pollinators for this straggly shrub with blue-tinged white flowers were completely unknown. One of the native bees collected on this visit immediately caught my attention because the female had large devil-like horns protruding from her clypeus – the broad plate on the front of a bee’s head. When I investigated, it was clear this wasn’t a species that had been found before. Whilst some native bees have horns or prongs, none have the large and slightly curved horns of this one. Comparing it with museum specimens, along with DNA barcoding, confirmed this species was new to collectors and to science. DNA barcoding also revealed a male native bee I had collected at the site was her partner, but he lacked horns. This is the opposite of the situation in much of the animal kingdom, where the males are more likely to be amoured. Bringer of light When you discover a new species, you have the honour of choosing a name. The first new species of native bee I “described” (or scientifically identified) in 2022, Leioproctus zephyr, is named after my dog, Zephyr. For this new species, the horns meant the name Lucifer was a perfect choice. Lucifer is also Latin for “light bringer”, and I hope this new species brings to light the wonders of our native bees. Australia has more than 2,000 species of native bees. They help keep our ecosystems healthy and play a crucial role in pollinating wildflowers. We need to understand native bees This new native bee, Megachile lucifer, is only one of an estimated 500 native bees that are not described. Far more attention has been given to the introduced European honey bee Apis mellifera. Whilst the honey bee is important for crop pollination, this species is not threatened, and can in fact harm our native bees. The truth is honeybees compete with native animals for food and habitat, disrupt native pollination systems and pose a serious biosecurity threat to our honey and pollination industries. Currently, there no requirement to survey for native bees in areas about to be mined, farmed or developed. Even if they are found, any species that has not been officially identified it has no conservation standing, which is one reason why taxonomic research is so important. Protect the pollinators Megachile lucifer was collected on a flowering mallee plant that attracted thousands of native bees and other insects. In subsequent years of surveying this site, the mallee was not flowering, Megachile lucifer was not seen, and far fewer insects were recorded. With no monitoring of native bees, we also don’t know how their populations are faring in response to threatening processes, like climate change. More interest and investment into the taxonomy, conservation and ecology of native bees, means we can protect both them and the rare and precious plants they pollinate. Kit Prendergast received funding from the Atlas of Living Australia, with a Biodiversity Mobilisation Grant and Goldfields Environmental Management Group Grant. The surveys were conducted as an ecological consultant, subcontracted to Botanica Consulting, who were commissioned by Audalia Resources Limited.

Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting

A young margay wandered into a residential backyard here, prompting a swift rescue by environmental officials who found the wildcat in an oddly calm state. The incident unfolded on November 5 when a local resident noticed the small feline resting on a low branch in their yard. Concerned about potential risks to a child or […] The post Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

A young margay wandered into a residential backyard here, prompting a swift rescue by environmental officials who found the wildcat in an oddly calm state. The incident unfolded on November 5 when a local resident noticed the small feline resting on a low branch in their yard. Concerned about potential risks to a child or nearby farm animals, the family contacted the National System of Conservation Areas (SINAC), part of the Ministry of Environment and Energy (MINAE). Officials from the Tortuguero Conservation Area arrived quickly and identified the animal as a margay, known scientifically as Leopardus wiedii and locally as caucel. The cat’s docile demeanor stood out—it appeared asleep and showed no fear of people, which raised questions about its background. For the safety of both the community and the animal, the team captured it without incident. They placed the margay in a secure carrier and moved it to an approved wildlife rescue center for assessment. Veterinarians at the center sedated the margay for a thorough check. They reported the animal in solid health overall, with no major wounds. However, they removed several porcupine quills from around its mouth, signs of a recent failed hunt in the forest. Experts now observe the young margay over the coming days to check for any human habituation, which could suggest prior captivity. If tests confirm it retains wild instincts, authorities plan to release it back into a protected natural area. SINAC used the event to stress proper handling of wildlife encounters. Residents should avoid contact and report sightings to officials or emergency services at 9-1-1, allowing trained teams to step in safely. Margays rank among Costa Rica’s six native wildcat species, sharing forests with jaguars, pumas, ocelots, oncillas, and jaguarundis. These agile climbers can descend trees headfirst and grip branches with a single hind paw. Yet they face ongoing pressures from shrinking habitats and illegal pet trade captures. This rescue highlights how human expansion brings wildlife closer to homes, calling for balanced conservation efforts in regions like Pococí. The post Margay Rescued in Costa Rica After Backyard Sighting appeared first on The Tico Times | Costa Rica News | Travel | Real Estate.

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