as co-chair of the house oceans caucus, bonamici dove into her work to introduce the blue carbon for our planet act, which was later strategically renamed to the coastal restoration act to further broaden support.

“blue carbon means the blue economy, the ocean economy, the water economy. but the word ‘carbon’ sometimes concerned people. and particularly some republicans who thought it was somehow a restriction on what they could do, rather than a positive step. so i don’t mind changing the title of the bill,” she said.

bonamici stresses the use of language that emphasizes voters’ financial concerns and everyday experiences, yet still supports broad environmental action. watch above!

this video is an investigation into the relationship between art, science, and the environment, aiming to emphasize the importance of using art to convey science, particularly in the environmental sciences. this story is told through an interview with bonnie monteleone, co-founder of the plastic ocean project, a non-profit focused on the plastic pollution crisis based in wilmington, north carolina.

their mission is based on three pillars: scientific research, artistic storytelling, and collaborative solutions. monteleone, an artist at heart, created the traveling art exhibit “what goes around, comes around”, a mural made of plastic waste collected from the ocean in the shape of “the great wave of kanagawa” by katsushika hokusai.

monteleone is an expert in merging the arts and sciences in environmental storytelling and emphasizes the importance of using art to convey science, “it’s this little dance that we’re constantly doing, just so hungry to share, to communicate with one another. and that’s where, when i started this conversation the science was locked up, and helping people understand how horrible we were treating the ocean because we weren’t communicating.”

the orca pod-cast explores the taxonomy and definition of orca whales as a species.

in it, i discuss how i was inspired by a post i saw from emma luck, the northern naturalist on instagram, and get into topics such orca ecotypes, and the recent recommendation to consider orca subspecies, resident and biggs, to be their own species.

works consulted.

podcast transcript:

hello, my name is emily.

i’m a senior undergrad in wildlife science, and today i’d like to talk about killer whales after seeing an instagram post from a marine biologist named emma luck, username northern naturalist, that inspired me to read up on the proposal of two new killer whale species.

we’ve all heard of killer whales. many of us probably saw free willy as kids. these iconic citations are actually in the delphinidae family, classifying them as dolphins despite their common names containing, “whale.”

this is said to potentially be a result of a mistranslation of the spanish name, “asesino de ballenas,” which means “whale killer” rather than “killer whale.” keeping on theme, their genus name, orcinus, is in reference to an etruscan god of the underworld. they’ve also earned the nickname, “the wolves of the sea,” because of how they hunt as a group.

you might be wondering how such a charismatic species ends up with major taxonomic changes. i know that i personally often assume that because a species is popular or well known, it must be super extensively and thoroughly researched by now.

however, it turns out that’s not necessarily true, and with orca whales there are a lot of knowledge gaps on the species, actually. a lot of new species or reclassification of a species in the modern day comes from filling the knowledge gap on known organisms, rather than from undiscovered organisms.

not that we don’t still discover new organisms, but they’re usually found in places humans have historically struggled to research because of physical restraints and technological limitations. so places like the deep sea or caves.

the definition of what makes something distinct enough to be a species seems pretty intuitive at first.

like, you know, a bird and a dog are obviously different species, but how do we know that a dog is a different species from a wolf? or that crows and ravens aren’t the same species?

reproductive isolation – not being able to reproduce with species outside of your own species – is the most clear definition.

however, it isn’t the only definition and there are many exceptions to it. a species can be based on morphology, feeding habits, social behavior, and geographic location which are usually supported by genetics.

one of the more “out there” examples i can think of, is the time my evolution professor told us about a bird, whose name i can’t recall, that was delineated into a few species based solely on their unique songs, as the species would only reproduce with birds who use the same song as them, even though they were compatible with other birds.

and if i recall correctly, they weren’t significantly genetically different either.

but for the sake of this podcast, i’ll focus on the definitions provided from a paper that i cover later.

it defines a species as a separately evolving lineage composed of a population or collection of populations. and it defines subspecies as a population or collection of populations that appears to be a separately evolving lineage with discontinuities resulting from geography, ecological specialization, or other forces that restrict gene flow to the point that the population or collection of populations is diagnosably distinct.

so with that being said, let’s dive back into orcas. a lot of what we know about orcas varies depending on the specific population.

orcas have a diverse range, being found in every ocean around the globe, so naturally there’s been variation observed based on region. orca pods are also a tightly knit matriarchal community, so even different families in the same area can be pretty distinguishable from each other.

while all orca whales are considered understudied, so much so that the iucn red list feels that there is not enough data to assess the species risk of extinction.

orcas, in particular in the southern hemisphere, are considered significantly less studied than other northern orcas because there isn’t really a lot of land mass in the southern hemisphere, so historically it’s been difficult to observe them in the open ocean.

because of the extensive range of the killer whale, they have been broken down into ecotypes. however, as i was reading the literature, it sounds like most scientists are suggesting that the risk of oversimplifying these understudied individuals outweighs its usefulness.

the northern naturalist on instagram cited a 2013 paper by dee brune et al. titled, “killer whale ecotypes: is there a global model?” this paper does a deep dive into the concept of ecotypes and critiques the concept.

as someone who didn’t know anything about ecotypes going into it, i found the paper very easy to understand and i felt like it gave me a pretty solid grasp on the concept while introducing their critique as well.

the ecotypes in the eastern north pacific include the resident, offshore, and transient ecotypes.

transient also being known as biggs, named for the canadian scientist michael bigg, and in the southern ocean it includes the ecotypes type a, b, c, and d.

while the paper does describe a population in the north atlantic, it doesn’t name them as the type 1 and type 2 ecotypes i’ve seen mentioned in a few articles.

one of my biggest takeaways is that a major thing that really makes a population of orcas unique is their hunting strategy that gets passed down through generations and is specialized to their prey of choice.

about a year ago now, the paper by moran et al. titled, “revised taxonomy of eastern north pacific killer whales (orcinus orca): bigg’s and resident ecotypes deserve species status,” was published and this paper reviewed the data available on resident and biggs ecotypes.

as the title suggests, they concluded that they deserve species level status. they focused on these ecotypes because they have the most extensive data available.

they used a combination of ecology, behaviour and morphology, and molecular genetics to support their findings.

the resident killer whale is named subspecies ater and bigg’s killer whale is named subspecies rectipinnus.

their names were actually given by edward drinker cope way back in 1869.

the paper mentions that the common name of resident killer whale is a placeholder, while they hope to consult indigenous people for a new common name, which i think is a really nice way to acknowledge the history indigenous people have with the species, but also especially since their people are often overlooked in western science.

the post i originally saw said that the two species proposed were accepted as subspecies, not species. and i reached out to emma luck on instagram to ask if she could help explain who gets the authority to approve a new species.

i’m very grateful for her quick response that pointed me to the taxonomy committee of the society of marine mammalogy.

they do an annual review of marine mammal species and subspecies, and it was in this that they explained the reasoning for classifying biggs and resident ecotypes as a subspecies rather than the proposed species.

their big concerns were about gene flow and a desire for a more comprehensive data on orca clades globally to understand just how distinct these groups are from other orcas. 

however, emma luck commented that this wasn’t the most popular decision and it might change in the future. 

i’m excited to see what taxonomic changes come from the orca community in the future and i hope we are soon better able to research the southern populations.

it’s pretty crucial to have an understanding of these populations so that we can take steps towards the best management practices and assure that we don’t let more vulnerable populations suffer because they were lumped together with better off populations.

it’s also important to research the species now so that we can better understand how climate change is impacting them.

thanks for listening and i hope you enjoyed learning more about the species as much as i did.

beneath the surface of the ocean we can find a hidden world, vast and full of life. it is a world of mystery, where light fades into darkness, and silence is filled with the whispers of unseen creatures. but beneath all this beauty, a battle rages—a battle not of war, but of survival.

sharks, the guardians of the oceans, have ruled these waters for longer than humans have roamed the earth, keeping the ocean in balance. yet they are hunted, misunderstood, and feared, with around 100 million sharks killed globally each year. this is the story of one shark, caught in the struggle between survival and extinction. a creature feared as a monster but destined to be a protector.

people call me a monster, a murderer. but if i wasn’t important, i wouldn’t have a place in the ocean. without me, the ocean would die. i am lurking in the deep, gliding through the water watching the sunlight dance on the waves above. i hunt the weak, the sick, keeping the ocean healthy and thriving. when a human sees me, they only see fear. looking at my sharp teeth or the shape of my body, they swim away in fear. but they don’t understand that without sharks like me, the ocean would be a desert, a blue lifeless desert.

after a night’s sleep, i wake up, ready to hunt. but even when i sleep, i am never truly at rest. only half of my brain sleeps, while the other half remains awake, keeping me alert to any predators. my eyes never fully close. no, i am not the biggest animal in the ocean. orcas, larger sharks, and, of course, humans are my predators. having this unique ability helps me survive.

like you, i also need to eat. i spend most of my day swimming alone, searching for food. i am a solitary hunter. when i find a fish that looks like a good meal, i approach carefully, circling it from a distance, watching its every move. then, with a burst of speed, i strike, biting it before my prey even realizes i am there. that first attack is enough to weaken it, making an escape impossible.

i play a crucial role in the ocean. by hunting the sick and the weak, i ensure that only the strongest fish survive. i also keep fish populations in check. if certain fish become too abundant, they can destroy algae beds and disrupt the delicate balance of the ocean.

yet, despite my importance, you fear me. you judge me by my sharp teeth and the stories you’ve heard. but the truth is, i should fear you more than you fear me. every year, humans kill an estimated 100 million sharks, while sharks only kill around 10 humans annually. i don’t hunt humans. i approach out of curiosity, wondering what these strange creatures with two legs and no fins are.

but something is wrong. i am becoming hungrier. there are fewer fish, and i don’t understand why. when i gather with others to reproduce, i notice fewer and fewer sharks. our numbers are falling. something is happening to my ocean, and i don’t know if it will ever be the same.

suddenly, i see a fish’s tail flicker in the distance. hunger takes over. instinct drives me forward. i don’t think, i just act. i lunge at my prey, jaws open, ready to strike.

then pain.

a sharp, unnatural pull tugs at my lip. i try to escape, but something is holding me back. the ocean around me feels wrong. i try to dive, but i can’t. i am stuck, pulled upward, against my will. the light gets brighter. the water gets thinner. i break the surface, gasping, but i am no longer in control.

i am being taken.

it doesn’t feel right. i can hear loud noises, feel rough hands grabbing me and placing me on the boat. i try escaping but i can’t. i’m trying to breathe, but i am suddenly paralysed. after a few minutes i become unconscious.

by surprise i wake up, disoriented. this feels wrong, the water is different, thinner and unnatural. i am surrounded by invisible walls. i don’t see the vast blue horizon like i used to. i decide to swim forward searching for a way out. i swim and swim but there is nowhere to go. i am stuck in a cage made from glass. doomed to swim in circles for the rest of my life.

suddenly i feel a vibration through the glass. i go to take a closer look and see these strange, pale fleshy objects pressing against the glass. hands. these creatures are humans. a small one comes closer and presses her hands against the glass. her wide eyes look into mine, then she runs away in fear. and she screams, “it is going to eat me? look at his teeth; they are so pointy!”

this happens every day. small humans press their faces in on the glass, make faces at me or sometimes scream. but then in the background i hear a voice, the voice of an angel, calm unlike the rest. “don’t be scared; sharks are not dangerous!” amazed by this voice i turn toward the sound. this human speaks not with fear but with passion. in a calm voice, she explains, “did you know that sharks only kill 10 humans a year?”

the children looked at her with surprise.

she carried on talking with such passion and says, “but do you know how many sharks are killed by humans every year? around 100 million, so who are the real monsters?”

the children were all gobsmacked and responded, “wait, are we really more dangerous than sharks?” the brilliant scientist answered, “yes, we are. sharks are incredible animals, so vital for the ocean’s health. the first shark appeared over 400 million years ago, long before dinosaurs were around. and if they have survived for so long, this means that they have an essential role in the balance of the ocean.“

the children turned to look at me. i could see that the fear in their eyes had turned into curiosity. questions poured from their mouths, their excitement growing. and then one child, smaller than the others, said softly, “i thought they were monsters… but they are not. we need them and i want to protect them.”

for the first time since being trapped i saw a glimmer of hope. if these children could understand, then maybe one day the entire world would, too. maybe one day, everyone will see me for what i truly am. not a monster, but a guardian and a protector of the sea. until then, i wait, watching and hoping that it will change.

in recent years, kelp forests have diminished by over 90% on california’s north coast.

dive into the urgent mission to restore west coast kelp forests. in 2014, a pacific heatwave event known as the blob led to a major loss of kelp forests across the west coast. the blob coincided with a disease that killed off the sunflower sea star, a predator of the native purple sea urchin.

with their natural predator gone, purple sea urchin populations have spiked to over 10,000%, threatening kelp forest ecosystems that support countless marine species. without this crucial habitat, historical and culturally important species like rockfish, red abalone, crabs, and other critters are at risk of their ecosystems collapsing.

since the initial loss of these underwater forests, researchers and community members have been exploring innovative and creative ways to manage purple urchin populations to revive these underwater ecosystems, local economies, and cultural connections. join us as we uncover the innovative solutions and dedicated efforts to bring back the kelp forests and ensure a thriving future for our oceans!

remembering our personal connections to any body of water, understanding cultural relationships with water, and educating ourselves and each other about marine solutions to combat climate change are all steps toward a future where we have kept our promise with the ocean. our promise to preserve and protect it for years to come.

consider future generations: would you want them to create memories with the ocean like you did? i know i do. 

“reading sea creatures & corals: a penghu story” (esri story map) is my love letter to the coral reef ecosystem and the organisms it supports in the penghu archipelago, taiwan. i collaborated with the foundation of pescadores citizens, a local ngo, to organize volunteer sessions on penghu’s main island for scleractinian coral rehabilitation.

while stationed on the island, i was inspired by the terns soaring through the sky and the sea turtles swimming freely in the ocean. this inspiration led me to write two short stories featured in the story map, looking into their challenges living under anthropogenic impacts. by the end of last summer, i had helped transplant over 90 coral stems with volunteers and mapped live coral coverage across five sites (2020–2023) on penghu’s main island and in south penghu marine national park for long-term monitoring efforts. the map integrates underwater footage, photography, film and digital photos, gis maps, and figures from the scientific literature to immerse the audience in the underwater world.

the story map is divided into five sections, beginning with my short stories on greater crested terns and sea turtles, an introduction to the biology of corals, and the restoration work i carried out with the ngo in penghu. my story raises awareness of the urgent need to preserve coral reef ecosystems and inspire a deeper love for the ocean.

click on the presentation below to read the full story!

shhh. listen. can you hear the birds? the water? the crickets? this place is full of life, and it’s not only important for the wildlife; this place is important for humans too. aside from being a nursery habitat for the fish that we consume, estuarine and marsh ecosystems protect us from coastal flood and erosion and act as a water filtration system and a valued carbon sink area. at the jacques cousteau national estuarine research reserve in new jersey, scientists have been working for more than three decades collecting data, analyzing, and measuring how climate change is impacting the east coast of the united states.

my name is shaniya and i come from indonesia, the second most biodiverse country in the world. indonesia has more than 17,000 islands with approximately 40,000 watersheds that support 277.5 million citizens, but we are facing tremendous threats. about 14 million indonesians are directly and indirectly dependent on fisheries for their livelihood, but polluted rivers, polluted estuaries, and loss of our mangrove ecosystem and shorelines are affecting their daily lives.

so why did i come to new jersey, more than 10,000 miles away from home? this is one of the most significant places for estuarine research in the united states. as a young scientist, i came here to learn from the scientists who have dedicated their lives to understanding and protecting this important ecosystem. in this video, i interview researchers of rutgers university marine field station who tell me about the importance of their long-term research on the east coast. my hope is that i can bring the knowledge that i learned here back to indonesia and work with policy makers back home to help protect and to preserve these ecosystems. i want to do my part in ensuring that our estuaries sustain not just for today, but for the future as well.

most well-known for its unique endemic species like the panther chameleon, the ring-tailed lemur and the cat-like fossa, the island of madagascar also contains caves which serve as time capsules of the climate history of the western indian ocean.

now, paleoclimatologists are investigating what madagascar can tell us about the past and future of monsoons as climate change accelerates.

“the question was to understand the mechanism connecting the atlantic and indian oceans in the past and whether that has any role in future climate change,” said ben tiger, massachusetts institute of technology, woods hole oceanographic institution joint program ph.d. candidate.

tiger had been entranced by madagascar’s unique biome ever since his first visit during a washington university sustainable development trip there. it was serendipitous when he started his ph.d. at mit-whoi and joined a research team focused on madagascar’s cave systems to investigate ocean systems in the indian ocean.

the mit-whoi research first focused on madagascar to understand the human impacts on species unique to madagascar when humans arrived around 1,000 to 1,500 years ago, according to tiger.

“there were huge shifts in the ecosystem during that time: the extinction of certain charismatic megafauna like giant lemurs and hippos that don’t exist on the island anymore,” tiger said. “so the question was, is this a climate story or a human, environmental-change story? and with stalagmites, you can answer that question.”

stalagmites, mound-like mineral deposits from cave floors, revealed that madagascar’s climate hadn’t changed when these endemic species went extinct – suggesting to tiger and his team that madagascar’s biome extinctions had more to do with human influence than climate shifts.

thus began tiger’s paleoclimate study on northern madagascar stalagmites to understand not only what they tell scientists about the island’s biodiversity, but also clues to indian ocean activity during the last glacial period – an underreported ocean system compared to the north atlantic, according to tiger.

 “most [ocean climate research] is focused in the north atlantic because of u.s. and european science efforts,” tiger said. “more recently, there’s more coverage on the indian ocean. but that’s only a couple decades-worth of data, so it’s definitely lacking.”

tiger’s study focused on extracting stalagmites from anjohibe (‘big cave’) in northwestern madagascar. stalagmites contain drip water and serve as precipitation time capsules that can reveal the extremity and frequency of monsoons as far back as 27,000 years ago. this study serves as the oldest record of monsoons in madagascar. 

understanding how monsoons behaved in the past enables paleoclimatologists like tiger to predict how monsoons will behave in the future as ocean currents destabilize from climate change. contrary to scientific understanding that rain belts warming makes climate wetter, tiger’s research found that madagascar’s climate experienced widespread drying during this sudden climate warming event with a huge discharge of meltwater around 27,000 years ago.

“that’s what led us to believe that maybe it was these east-west temperature differences in the indian ocean rather than these rain belt shifts north-south that were more important,” tiger said.

tiger presented this research to leading climate researchers at the 2024 comer climate conference in southwestern wisconsin. one attendee, yuxin zhou, postdoctoral scholar at the university of california, santa barbara, said he was fascinated by tiger’s findings as it relates to his own research on the atlantic meridional overturning circulation (“amoc”).

amoc is an “ocean conveyor belt” that circulates water within the atlantic ocean, carrying warm water north and cold water south. put simply, when amoc weakens, extreme weather events increase. tiger’s work, which focused on the relationship between the atlantic and indian oceans, revealed the dangers of amoc slowing down on monsoon seasons in the indian ocean.

“ben compared the worst-case scenario and best-case scenario of amoc weakening and how that difference will affect east african precipitation and farmers that can be potentially impacted,” zhou said.

zhou reflected on the timeliness of tiger’s research. in march 2024, the only american drilling ship dedicated to ocean research shut down, impacting the ability for researchers like zhou and tiger to acquire new sentiments for further climate system explorations.

“[tiger] made a conscious effort to project what he learned from the past to what we might experience in the future,” zhou said. “i think this is doubly important in this era of paleoscience. [we’re] in a tough period of time right now because we’re losing a primary drilling ship that we’ve used to study the ocean.”

by analyzing the precipitation of madagascar’s stalagmites, tiger’s research reveals the implications of increasing monsoons on regional agriculture in east africa, india and indonesia that rely on rainfall. it also highlights the urgency of understanding a weakening amoc in the tropics as extreme weather events increase.

“by understanding how climate can change in the past, we hope that people can better prepare for these longer-term changes coming up,” tiger said.

with a greater need for this research, tiger plans to return to madagascar in spring 2025 to continue field study on the anjohibe cave.

“i think we as a [paleoclimatology] community need to reposition and recommit our effort to link the past and the future to show that what we do has value,” zhou said. “what ben is doing is exactly what we need to show.”