An unexpected journey (of eels)

29 05 2023

The way that eels migrate along rivers and seas is mesmerising. There has been scientific agreement since the turn of the 20th Century that the Sargasso Sea is the breeding home to the sole European species. But it has taken more than two centuries since Carl Linnaeus gave this snake-shaped fish its scientific name before an adult was discovered in the area where they mate and spawn.


Even among nomadic people, the average human walks no more than a few dozen kilometres in a single trip. In comparison, the animal kingdom is rife with migratory species that traverse continents, oceans, and even the entire planet (1).

The European eel (Anguilla anguilla) is an outstanding example. Adults migrate up to 5000 km from the rivers and coastal wetlands of Europe and northern Africa to reproduce, lay their eggs, and die in the Sargasso Sea — an algae-covered sea delimited by oceanic currents in the North Atlantic.

The European eel (Anguilla Anguilla) is an omnivorous fish that migrates from European and North African rivers to the Sargasso Sea to mate and die (18). Each individual experiences 4 distinct developmental phases, which look so different that they have been described as three distinct species (19): A planktonic, leaf-like larva (i lecocephalus phase) emerges from each egg and takes up to 3 years to cross the Atlantic. Off the Afro-European coasts, the larva transforms into a semi-transparent tiny eel (ii glass phase) that enters wetlands and estuaries, and travels up the rivers as it gains weight and pigment (iii yellow phase). They remain there for up to 20 years, rarely growing larger than 1 m in length and 4 kg in weight (females are larger than males) — see underwater footage here and here. Sexual maturity ultimately begins to adjust to the migration to the sea: a darker, saltier, and deeper environment than the river. Their back and belly turn bronze and silver (iv silver phase), respectively, the eyes increase in size and the number of photoreceptors multiplies (function = submarine vision), the stomach shrinks and loses its digestive function, the walls of the swim bladder thicken (function = floating in the water column), and the fat content of tissues increases by up to 30% of body weight (function = fuel for transoceanic travelling). And finally, the reproductive system will gradually develop while eels navigate to the Sargasso Sea — a trip during which they fast. Photos courtesy of Sune Riis Sørensen (2-day embryo raised at www.eel-hatch.dk and leptocephalus from the Sargasso Sea) and Lluís Zamora (Ter River, Girona, Spain: glass eels in Torroella de Montgrí, 70 cm yellow female in Bonmatí, and 40 cm silver male showing eye enlargement in Bescanó). Eggs and sperm are only known from in vitro fertilisation in laboratories and fish farms (20).

As larvae emerge, they drift with the prevailing marine currents over the Atlantic to the European and African coasts (2). The location of the breeding area was unveiled in the early 20th Century as a result of the observation that the size of the larvae caught in research surveys gradually decreased from Afro-European land towards the Sargasso Sea (3, 4). Adult eels had been tracked by telemetry in their migration route converging on the Azores Archipelago (5), but none had been recorded beyond until recently.

Crossing the Atlantic

To complete this piece of the puzzle, Rosalind Wright and collaborators placed transmitters in 21 silver females and released them in the Azores (6). These individuals travelled between 300 and 2300 km, averaging 7 km each day. Five arrived in the Sargasso Sea, and one of them, after a swim of 243 days (from November 2019 to July 2020), reached what for many years had been the hypothetical core of the breeding area (3, 4). It is the first direct record of a European eel ending its reproductive journey.

Eels use the magnetic fields in their way back to the Sargasso Sea and rely on an internal compass that records the route they made as larvae (7). The speed of navigation recorded by Wright is slower than in many long-distance migratory vertebrates like birds, yet it is consistent across the 16 known eel species (8).

Telemetry (6) and fisheries (14) of European eel (Anguilla anguilla). Eel silhouettes indicate the release point of 21 silver females in Azores in 2018 (orange) and 2019 (yellow), the circles show the position where their transmitters stopped sending signals, and the grey background darkens with water depth. The diagrams display the distance travelled and the speed per eel, where the circle with bold border represents the female that reached the centre of the hypothetical spawning area in the Sargasso Sea (dashed lines in the map) (3). Blue, green and pink symbols indicate the final location of eels equipped with teletransmitters in previous studies, finding no individual giving location signals beyond the Azores Archipelago (6). The barplot shows commercial catches (1978-2021) of yellow+silver eels in those European countries with historical landings exceeding 30,000 t (no data available for France prior to 1986), plus Spain (6120 t from 1951) — excluding recreational fishery and farming which, in 2020, totalled 300 and 4600 t, respectively (14). Red circles represent glass-eel catches added up for France (> 90% of all-country landings), Great Britain, Portugal, and Spain. Catches have kept declining since the 1980s. One kg of glass eels contains some 3000 individuals, so the glass-eel fishery has a far greater impact on stocks than the adult fishery.

Wright claimed that, instead of swiftly migrating for early spawning, eels engage in a protracted migration at depth. This behaviour serves to conserve their energy and minimises the risk of dying (6). The delay also allows them to reach full reproductive potential since, during migration, eels stop eating and mobilise all their resources to swim and reproduce (9).

Other studies have revealed that adults move in deep waters in daylight but in shallow waters at night, and that some individuals are faster than others (3 to 47 km per day) (5). Considering that (i) this fish departs Europe and Africa between August and December and (ii) spawning occurs in the Sargasso Sea from December to May, it is unknown whether different individuals might breed 1 or 2 years after they begin their oceanic migration.

Management as complex as life itself

The European eel started showing the first signs of decline at the end of the 19th Century (10, 11). In 2008, the species was listed as Critically Endangered by the IUCN, and its conservation status has since remained in that category — worse than that of the giant panda (Ailuropoda melanoleuca) or the Iberian lynx (Lynx pardinus).

Read the rest of this entry »




Remapping the superhighways travelled by the first Australians reveals a 10,000-year journey through the continent

3 02 2023

Not exactly a conservation topic, I know, but it does provide insights into how the ancestors of Indigenous Australians adapted to and thrived in a new and sometimes harsh landscape. The more I study elements of human ecology in deep time, the more awed I become at the frankly amazing capacity of First Peoples.


Our new research (co-authored by Stefani Crabtree, Devin White, Sean Ulm, Michael Bird, Al Williams, and Fred Saltré) has revealed that the process of peopling the entire continent of Sahul — the combined mega continent that joined Australia with New Guinea when sea levels were much lower than today — took 10,000 years.  

We combined new models of demography and wayfinding based on geographic inference to show the scale of the challenges faced by the ancestors of Indigenous people making their mass migration across the supercontinent more than 60,000 years ago.

The ancestors of Aboriginal people likely first entered the continent 75,000–50,000 years ago from what is today the island of Timor, followed by later migrations through the western regions of New Guinea.

This pattern led to a rapid expansion both southward toward the Great Australian Bight, and northward from the Kimberley region to settle all parts of New Guinea and, later, the southwest and southeast of Australia.

We did this research under the auspices of the ARC Centre of Excellence for Australian Biodiversity and Heritage (CABAH) and including international experts in Australia and the United States to investigate the most likely pathways and the timeframe needed to reach population sizes able to withstand the rigours of their new environment.

By combining two existing models predicting the routes these First Peoples took – ‘superhighways’ – and the demographic structure of these first populations, we were able to estimate the time for continental saturation more precisely. The new research has just been published in the journal Quaternary Science Reviews.

Based on detailed reconstructions of the topography of the ancient continent and models of past climate, we developed a virtual continent and programmed populations to survive in and move successfully through their new territory.

Navigating by following landscape features like mountains and hills and knowing where to find water led to successful navigation strategies. The First Peoples of Australia soon passed along cultural knowledge to subsequent generations facilitating the peopling of the whole continent.

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Spring asynchrony in migratory birds

15 05 2017

CB_ClimateChange5_BirdLateMigratoryArrival_Photo

Brent geese flock in the Limfjorden (Denmark)courtesy of Kevin Clausen. The Brent goose (Branta bernicla) is a migratory goose that breeds in Arctic coasts, as well as in northern Eurasia and the Americas, starting from late May to early June. Adults are about 0.5 m long, weigh some 2 kg and live up to 30 years. Their nests are placed in the ground, where reproductive pairs incubate a single clutch (≤ 5 eggs) for a couple of months. They are herbivores, feeding on algae (mainly Zostera marina in Limfjord) and seagrass in estuaries, fjords, intertidal areas and rocky beaches during fall and winter. During summer they feed on tundra herbs, moss, lichens, as well as aquatic plants in rivers and lakes. The species is ‘Least Concern’ for the IUCN, with a global population at some 600,000 individuals.

Migratory birds synchronise their travel from non-breeding to breeding quarters with the seasonal conditions optimal for reproduction. Above all, they decide when to migrate on the basis of the climate of their wintering areas while they are there. As climate change involves earlier springs in the Arctic but not in the wintering areas, there is a lack of synchronisation that leads to a demographic decline of these birds in the polar regions where they breed.

When I think about how species respond to climate change, the song from the ClashShould I stay or should I go” comes to mind. As climate changes, species eventually have to face an ultimate choice: (i) stay and adapt to novel conditions or become locally extinct if adaptation fails, (ii) or move to other regions where climatic conditions should be more suitable. Migratory species have to face this decision every time they have to move back and forth from non-breeding to breeding grounds.

Migration is a behavioural strategy shared by different animal groups like sea turtles, mammals, amphibians, insects or birds. Species move from one area to another usually to feed and reproduce in the best climatic conditions possible. For birds, migration is a common phenomenon that typically entails large movements between breeding and wintering grounds. These vertebrates boast some of the longest migratory distances known in the animal kingdom, particularly seabirds like Artic terns, which can complete up to a round-world trip in a single migratory event between the UK and the Antarctic (1). There are several theories about the mechanisms triggering bird migration, including improving body condition and fitness through unexploited resources (2), reducing parasite load (3), minimizing predation risk (4), maximizing day-light (5), or reducing competition (6, 7). Whatever the cause, birds have to decide when the best moment to migrate is, counting only with the (usually climatic) clues they have at the departure site. Read the rest of this entry »





What immigration means for Australia’s climate-change policies

12 06 2016

After dipping my foot into the murky waters of human population demography a few years ago, I’m a little surprised that I find myself here again. But this time I’m not examining what the future of the global human population might be and what it could mean for our environment; instead, I’m focussing on Australia’s population future and its implications for our greenhouse-gas emissions trajectories.

Just published in Asia and the Pacific Policy Forum1, my paper with long-time co-author Barry Brook is entitled Implications of Australia’s population policy for future greenhouse gas emissions targets. It deals with the sticky question of just how many people Australia can ‘afford’ to house. By ‘afford’ I mean several things, but most specifically in the context of this paper is by how much we need to reduce our per capita emissions to achieve future reduction targets under various immigration-rate scenarios.

In many ways Australia’s population is typical of other developed nations in that its intrinsic fertility (1.78 children/woman) is below replacement (which is itself ~ 2.1 children/female). Yet Australia’s population grew nearly twice (1.88×) as large from 1971 to 2014. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that most of our population growth is due to net immigration.

In fact, between 2006 and 2014, Australia welcomed a net of 215,000 new people per year (this means that of all the permanent immigrants and emigrants, a ‘net’ of approximately 215,000 stayed each year), which represents about 1% of our total population size (that latter most likely just ticked over 24 million). Read the rest of this entry »





Whither goest the biggest fish?

7 02 2013

© W Osborn (AIMS)

© W Osborn (AIMS)

Well, since my own institute beat me to the punch on announcing our latest whale shark paper (really, far too keen, ladies & gents), I thought I’d better follow up with a post of my own.

We’ve mentioned our previous whale shark research before (see here and here for previous posts, and see the end of this post for a full list of our whale shark publications), but this is a lovely extension of that work by my recently completed PhD student, Ana Sequeira.

Her latest contribution, Inferred global connectivity of whale shark Rhincodon typus populations just published online in Journal of Fish Biology, describes what a lot of whale shark punters & researchers alike have suspected for a long time – global connectivity of all the oceans’ whale shark populations. The problem hasn’t been a lack of ‘evidence’ for this per se; there is now sufficient evidence from genetic studies that at least on the generational scale (a single generation could be up to 37 years long), populations among the major ocean basins are connected via migration (Castro et al. 2007Schmidt et al. 2009). The problem instead is that no one has ever observed a shark voyage between ocean basins, nor has anyone really suggested how and over what time scales this (must) happen.

Until now, that is. Read the rest of this entry »