Garibaldi

A garibaldi at the Aquarium of the Pacific

Some species proudly represent great institutions, locations, or people. Such symbolism does not exempt them from odd corners. The garibaldi of the California coast suffers such a fate. 

A very conspicuous garibaldi in the Amber Forest 
at the Aquarium of the Pacific

As California’s state marine fish, the garibaldi gains a share of fame promoted by its distinct appearance. The scientific term for the fish accurately describes the animal’s high forehead (Hypsypops) and bright orange color (rubicunda). The gaudy hue reflects the garibaldi’s lineage. Like another orange fish, the clownfish, the garibaldi is a proud member of the damselfish family. While it never gains the stripes of its more popular relative, the garibaldi displays additional showy coloration as a juvenile. When young, the fish sports neon blue markings over an orange background. The color affords no camouflage in the animal’s home. Nor does it need to. The juvenile’s bright markings alert older fish of its status as a youngster, keeping them from harassing it. By contrast, the bright color of the adults apparently alerts other animals of the fish’s other distinguishing characteristic.

A fleece juvenile garibaldi

Besides its distinct coloration, the garibaldi exhibits infamous territorial behavior. Any creature daring to approach the fish’s space will be driven away with chicken-like clucks and sharp nips. Attackable creatures include other fish, sea stars, limpets, and divers. Since garibaldi will not flee from fishermen, they require legal protection. The reason for the territorialism relies on the next generation. Male garibaldi must protect a bed of red algae for the females to nest in. Compromised nests could doom the next generation, so males guard with extra gusto, only fleeing from harbor seals. 

A fleece garibaldi

Garibaldi, despite their notable coloration and behavior, remain in odd corners for a number of reasons. While they are one of the most colorful fish of the eastern Pacific Ocean, they lack the brilliant patterns of most tropical fish. Additionally, garibaldi are small, no longer than fourteen inches. As such, they lack the stature of other kelp bed animals, such as giant sea bass or sharks. Besides their ridiculously territorial natures, the fish do not show unusual or notable behaviors. Still, they bring a flash of color to otherwise dull kelp forest exhibits, and remain a pretty, if overlooked, addition to any public aquarium.

Too Much Stuff

Dear Readers:

I am sorry for the lack of posts, but my workload continues to be greater than originally anticipated. As such, the blog will be on hiatus until further notice.

Workload Overdrive

Unfortunately, this week's workload prevents me from providing a proper post. Expect one in two weeks.

To tide viewers over, here is an example of what is eating my time this week. It is also a clever preview for the next odd corner.

Pronghorn

Male pronghorn at the San Diego Zoo 

    Sometimes, the occupants of odd corners are strange, although not necessarily in an attention-grabbing manner. The pronghorn exists in such a state.

Illustration of various-aged pronghorn.

Image from

 http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f8/Gabelbock-drawing.jpg

     Much of the pronghorn seems bent on defying standard classification. Unlike many other animals living on the plains of the American Midwest, pronghorns enjoy distinct coloration. The overall coat bears a rust or amber color, with bright white markings along the neck, head, belly, and rump. Males also have black patches on their faces and cheeks, perhaps to gain the attention of females. The animals live in herds…sort of. Some males remain with a harem of females. Others create territories and faithfully guard them, neglecting the social structure of a herd. Additionally, while females usually stay together, they will abandon the group to give birth to their fawns. Unlike bison or musk ox, the herd offers not protection to its young ones, so leaving other females may prevent predators from finding the fawns quite as easily. Perhaps the most confusing aspect of the pronghorns is their namesake. Male pronghorns, as well as some females, have dark projections on their heads. Like horns, they are cornetless and made of keratin. However, they also display tines, or branches. The tines often make the distinct “prongs” providing the animals with their name. However, they can also curve, droop, and branch into distinct shapes in some individuals. Also, they fall off once a year, much like antlers. The distinct headwear separates pronghorns from modern animals, although fossil records show at least twelve ancient species. All bore strange branching crests, and all existed solely in North America. In current times, only one species remains.

Fossil of Stockoceros onusrosagris, an extinct pronghorn species, at

 the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles

     As a result of the modern pronghorn’s unusual characteristics, naming the animal proved difficult. Scientifically, the creature is known as Antilocapra americana. The name translates to “American horned animal” or “American she-goat.” The “goat” term was one of the first used by Western explorers. American slang, tales, and songs also refer to pronghorn as “antelope,” as in “where the deer and the antelope play” fame. Most modern sources refer to the animals as pronghorn, pronghorn antelope, or antelope, although some ranchers and hunting enthusiasts may refer to them as speed goats.

Taxidermies of five pronghorns at the Natural 

History Museum of Los Angeles

     For all the confusion the animals cause linguists and classification, no one doubts their capacity. Antelope display an amazing ability to survive in the plains of the American Midwest. Their coat manages to keep them cool in the summer, but sheds water in the winter. Pronghorn also thrive on vegetation cattle and deer cannot gain nutrients effectively from, making them ideal for the grazing opportunities of the Midwest. Typically, antelope detect danger through eyesight, which some researchers compare favorably to binoculars. Once pronghorn identify a source of danger, they run. The animals maintain the record for long distance speed. While cheetahs manage to run at over sixty miles per hour, they can only maintain such speeds for a few seconds. By contrast, pronghorn run for several miles at a time, although the actual speed is debated. Most biologists agree the animals can gallop between thirty and forty-five miles per hour, but getting antelope to cooperate with speed measuring equipment proves difficult. As a result of their speed, antelope can easily evade most of their predators, including coyotes, eagles, and wolves. In the rare event speed fails, the pronghorn can fight back using powerful hooves, strong legs, and pointed headwear.

Close-up of a male pronghorn at the San Diego Zoo.

Note the distinct headgear and cheek patches.

     Since pronghorn offered such a pleasing challenge to hunters, they became a popular sport animal. Like their neighbors, the bison, pronghorn once filled the plains with a population spanning the millions. Also, like bison, they were nearly hunted to extinction. After decades of unlimited hunting, the herds of millions quietly dropped into groups of a few hundred animals. Fencing also proved devastating to the animals. Unlike deer, pronghorn do not typically jump well, so fences intended to keep sheep and cattle safe blocked the antelope from grazing and watering sites. Hunters, concerned about the loss of a popular animal, began to actively conserve remaining antelope. With the support of protective measures, such as reserving land, limiting hunts, and raising awareness, pronghorn numbers returned. While a few subspecies remain in doubt, the overall population exists in the Least Concern aspect of the IUCN Red List.

Two female pronghorn and a fawn from the North American Mammal Hall

 at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles

     With such a survival story and so many unique characteristics, it seems odd that pronghorn never really manage to attract crowds at zoos and museums. Perhaps the animals are simply too small to inspire interest. A large male can weigh roughly one hundred fifty pounds, a featherweight compared to the ton maintained by most bison. Bison themselves may rob antelope of attention, since the larger, more powerful animals undoubtedly represent the plains in most visitors’ minds. Maybe the success of the antelope robs them of their attention. Since they are now, for all practical purposes, common, they do not maintain the charisma necessary for attracting attention. Rarity gathers interest, but survivability tends to be ignored. Also, they may simply be too strange to maintain guest interest. While the horns, colors, behaviors, and histories of the animals remains distinct, they also prevent antelope from attracting interest through familiarity. For whatever reason, pronghorn remain distinct, attractive occupants of odd corners.

View of the Pronghorn Display at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles

The Great Auk

Stuffed great auk specimen at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles, 
believed to be one of the last two hunted.

     Meticulous, or just lucky, museum-goers may find a stuffed or skeletal great auk tucked into an odd corner. Fortunate museums may even have an egg of the water bird. However, no museum will ever contain a living specimen. The great auk, also known as the garefowl, went extinct in 1844.

 

Ink drawing of great auk.

Image from http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f2/NSRW_Great_Auk.png

     Casual visitors run the risk of mistaking the birds for penguins. The misunderstanding is reasonable. Like many members of the auk family, the bird did enjoy penguin-like coloration. During the summer, great auks, much like the penguins of the south, had pale bellies and black backs. An oval-shaped white patches adorned either side of the bird’s face before each dark eye. However, the birds also changed their colors with the seasons. The winter plumage mirrored the summer coloration, although the light eye patches faded to black and the white belly feathers banded across the nape and chin. As the largest member of the alcid family, great auks stood at an impressive three feet tall. Despite the admirable height and tuxedo-like pattern, the bird managed to avoid a regal appearance through its ridiculously tiny wings. The wings, roughly the same length as those belonging to a bird half the great auk’s size, resided low on the bird’s body, making them even more comical. Seemingly compensating for the dainty appearance of the wings, the thick, heavy bill reveals an intimidating amount strength. While the beak effectively snapped small fish, the weight of the beak also crunched through the shells of crustaceans. Strangely, the beak bore three to twelve grooves. The purpose of the grooves remains undetermined, but some scientists suspect they relate to age. Also, some specimens have the grooves painted white. Since the colors of bird’s hard parts typically fade quickly, painting the beak and feet is fairly standard in the maintenance process. No description mentions white grooves, though, so they may result from speculative taxidermists.

Detailed shot of great auk's face. 

Note the large bill and white eye patches.

 

     Despite the bird’s appearance, it is not related to penguins. Unlike penguins, great auks lived exclusively in the Northern Hemisphere. They especially favored the rocky coasts of the North Atlantic, thriving in Iceland and Canada. In such areas they were, ironically, called penguins. They actually had the name before the famous birds of the south. When northern explorers first encountered the black-and-white southern birds, they named them after the more familiar great auk. Eventually, the northern birds lost their name to the south-dwellers, even though they were not, in fact, remotely related to each other.

Image from the Illustrated Alphabet of Birds. 

Illustration from  
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/f1/The_Illustrated_Alphabet_of_Birds%2C_The_Auk.jpg

     Great auks are, unsurprisingly, related to auks, sometimes referred to as alcids. The alcid family includes puffins, guillemots, murres, and auklets. All members of the family reside in fairly cool northern climates. They also spend much of their lives at sea. Like penguins, they used their wings to dive into the ocean, occasionally reached depths of over 500 feet. Unlike penguins, though, they use their flat, webbed feet to swim at the ocean’s surface. Additionally, most members of the alcid family fly effectively, if inelegantly. The garefowl attracts attention since it was flightless in a mostly flying family. Yet, the inability to fly made it perfect for the water. Large, flight-worthy wings create drag, preventing the birds from diving effectively. Small wings set back on the body gave the birds a streamline shape better suited for reaching the ocean floor and its tasty occupants. As a result, great auks could reach otherwise unavailable food sources.

Close-up of great auk's ridiculously tiny wings.

 

      While the birds were made for the ocean, their specialization was fatal on land. The inability to fly made the birds vulnerable when nesting, so they would raise their young in huge colonies, providing the auks with safety through numbers. Since they relied on such large groups, a single pair would often fail to raise young without the presence of hundreds of other birds. Additionally, the garefowl bred slowly. Due to limited resources, such as space, warmth, and food, the great auk, like many other alcids, only produced one offspring every season. Generally, the birds enjoyed unusual longevity for fowl, so they could still produce enough young to maintain healthy numbers. Prolonged interference with breeding, though, could and, sadly, would shatter the entire population.

Front view of the great auk at the Natural History Museum of Los Angeles.

      In the birds’ native habitat, they provided vital resources for the local human population. Trees and other conventional fuel sources do not exist near most of the great auk’s former rookeries, so the birds provided vital light and warmth through their oil. Their flesh also gave vital nourishment in areas with limited livestock or hunting options. Eventually, the birds also supplied a source of income. Eggs, while often eaten, became highly collectable by European and American scientists and hobbyists. Feather hats fell in vogue in the early 1800’s, so hunters would deliberately hunt the birds for the attractive black and white plumes. Some records suggest the birds suffered greatly in the process. A few statements suggest the birds were plucked while alive, then released to die due to exposure. Naturalists also claim hunters burned the birds alive to cook their fellow alcids. Currently, some historians cast doubt on such records, due to the racism and cultural bias of the recorders. Still, no one doubts the effects of constant hunting.

Image of a great auk published by Popular Science Monthly: Volume 33.

Image from
http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/5/57/PSM_V33_D474_The_great_auk.jpg.

     The results of the limitless collections took their toll. Pressure from economic and lifestyle hunting steadily made the birds scarcer. In a gross sort of irony, the rarity of the birds increased demand for specimens from museums and hobbyists, resulting in even more hunting than usual. Eventually, the number of the birds slipped to a point where the large colonies, so vital for breeding, failed to reach appropriate numbers. The last successful hunt occurred in 1844, resulting in the capture of a pair and the destruction of their egg. Some sightings were recorded in the years after the hunt, but many doubt the authenticity of such sightings. Even if they were accurate, the numbers seen could not possibly result in the large groups needed to repopulate the northern waters. The great auk was, effectively, extinct.

A quartet of extinct North American birds.

Natural History Museum of Los Angeles.

     Visitors wishing to find a great auk can only discover them through illustrations and specimens. Seventy-eight stuffed birds reside in various holdings throughout the world. The speckled eggshells of the great auk reach seventy-five in number. Yet, the bird remains strangely unpopular. Other extinct species, such as the dodo and Tasmanian tiger evoke strong feelings, guilt, and activism, while the great auk seems to avoid such attention. Perhaps it looks too similar to its living southern namesake to attract public interest. For whatever reason, the great auk seems destined to quietly reside in odd corners.