[chapter-communicator] FW: John- Please send this out, as other had spelling error!
- From: "BIANCHI, John" <JBIANCHI@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- To: #Audubon Board of Directors <IMCEAEX-_O=AUDUBON_OU=NATIONAL_CN=RECIPIENTS_CN=BoardOfDirectors@xxxxxxxxxxx>,#Audubon Staff <audstaff@xxxxxxxxxxx>
- Date: Tue, 2 Jul 2002 16:28:56 -0400
-----Original Message-----
From: Donalobrien@xxxxxxx [mailto:Donalobrien@xxxxxxx]
Sent: Tuesday, July 02, 2002 4:22 PM
To the Audubon Family
Three articles of interest from the July 2, 2002 issue of The New York
Times.
Donal
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July 2, 2002
Biologists Breathing New Life Into Ancient Habitat of Sturgeon
By DAVID BINDER
<http://graphics7.nytimes.com/images/dropcap/s.gif> HAWANO, Wis. — From a
distance of 100 feet, the Wolf River below the dam here appeared to be
boiling from bank to bank.
Up close, the scene was of violent thrashing as lake sturgeon gathered, five
or more males crowding around a female, dark gray and tubular like smallish
torpedoes, sharp tail fins creasing the surface, some of them leaping in
flashing, crashing arcs.
This was the height of an annual spawning season here, about 40 miles west
of Green Bay, and the sturgeon were cavorting as they have for at least 200
million years, before the age of the dinosaurs. These living relics, as Fred
P. Binkowski, senior fisheries biologist of the University of Wisconsin at
Milwaukee, calls them, are at the core of new efforts to restore the fish to
their ancestral waters here and far beyond.
The Great Lakes were once home to one of the earth's largest populations of
sturgeons, which are rare and getting rarer elsewhere in North America,
Europe and Asia. The lake sturgeon here (Acipenser fulvescens Rafinesque)
can grow to more than eight feet in length. They are long-lived: females can
live to over 100 and males to about 40. But females do not spawn until they
are in their 20's, and then only every four years.
In the late 19th century, when Americans rather suddenly discovered a taste
for sturgeon meat and the caviar of lake sturgeon, the Great Lakes were
credited with producing much of the world's caviar.
The sturgeon harvest in Michigan alone was four million pounds in 1880.
Overfishing and increased damming of spawning streams for power generation
reduced the catch to two million pounds in 1890 and, by 1900, to a mere
200,000 pounds for all of the Great Lakes.
Similar crashes, or worse, have recently occurred in the sturgeon waters of
the former Soviet Union.
But at Lake Winnebago and in its rivers and streams, the outlook is much
brighter. Experts cite a conservation program begun 99 years ago at the
165,000-acre lake, whose northern tip is 50 miles south of here. Now,
biologists are planning a long-term program using Winnebago stocks that
ideally will begin to rehabilitate sturgeon in all five Great Lakes,
starting with Lake Michigan.
The spawning lake sturgeon are netted and released at a variety of sites
under the direction of Ronald M. Bruch, senior fisheries biologist of the
Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources.
His team gathered at the Shawano Dam on the Wolf River as the water
temperature rose above 48 degrees, which is essential for inducing spawning.
After netting the squirming sturgeons, the team members heaved them onto a
measuring board. A helper clipped a metal tag with a number on the tail fin
while Mr. Bruch placed a tiny transponder, used for tracking, under the
fish's bony back plate.
Then the fish were slid back into the river. The largest of the 350 netted
over two days was just over six feet long. In the last six years, about
4,000 sturgeons, roughly 10 percent of the Winnebago adult population, have
been tagged.
Mr. Bruch singled out the females for his "Bruch stroke," a rapid massage on
the abdomen to force out eggs for laboratory use. Meanwhile, females
underwater were expelling eggs, an average of 400,000 apiece, as males beat
on their sides and bottoms in the natural manner that the Bruch stroke
imitates. The eggs drift to the shallow, rocky bottom, there to be
fertilized by the clouds of sperm simultaneously ejaculated at a rate of a
hundred billion per fish.
"In the wild, only about 1 percent of the eggs survive, hatch and reach
sexual maturity," Mr. Binkowski said. He takes eggs and sperm collected by
the Bruch teams and fertilizes the eggs on the spot. Then he takes them to
his laboratory, where he gets "90 percent to hatch," he said.
Besides the laboratory success, Mr. Bruch credits support for the program by
the local people, who donate money, help prevent poaching and drum up
legislative support.
Coinciding with the spawning is the annual Sturgeon Feast and Powwow of the
Menominee Indians, who once occupied nine million acres of Wisconsin and now
live on 234,000, just upriver from Shawano. The fish are central to the
tribe's creation myth, and well into the 19th century the Menominee
harvested spawning sturgeon at Keshena Falls where, they believed, a giant
drum beaten by the high springtime waters called the fish to spawn.
The Indians speared the sturgeon from small canoes. But the Shawano Dam and
another one upstream blocked the Winnebago spawning run to the falls, and
with it their annual dance and feast.
Nine years ago the State Department of Natural Resources began presenting
the Menominees with 10 Winnebago sturgeon so they could at least have their
feast. For several years, the agency has also been restocking nearby Legend
and Upper Bass Lakes, hoping to creating a large enough population to permit
harvesting on the reservation.
The tribe of 8,700 members is responding with growing enthusiasm. "I heard
my folks talk about eating sturgeon when I was a kid, but I never did until
a few years ago when the feasts started," said Dewey Thunder Jr., who is 61.
When the staccato crack and thundering of drums and high-pitched singing
subsided at the tribe's powwow in the high school gym in Neopit, in the
heart of the reservation, David Grignon, director of the Menominee Historic
Preservation Office, addressed the crowd: "The sturgeon broke the long
winters and replenished our food supply. Today the sturgeon stop at Shawano
Dam. When the dam is gone, they will be with us here again."
Chances for a sturgeon revival may be better here than anywhere else in the
world. Wisconsin's tight restrictions, beginning in 1903 with an eight-pound
limit on speared fish, have produced "the only large, self-sustaining
sturgeon population in the world," Mr. Bruch said.
"It is an American treasure," Mr. Binkowski declared. Winnebago is now
internationally renowned as a center of sturgeon rehabilitation and
research. Last year, the Wisconsin scientists convened a sturgeon symposium
at Oshkosh, drawing 430 participants from 30 countries.
Biologists at the University of Ferrara in Italy are using fin tissue from
Winnebago to pursue their genetic studies aimed at rehabilitating the
severely endangered Adriatic sturgeon (Acipenser naccarii) in the Po River,
while experts on the Chesapeake Bay and the Tennessee River are asking about
rejuvenating their minuscule populations.
Amid huge green vats containing sturgeon of various ages in his large
Milwaukee laboratory, Fred Binkowski tells of his plans with Ronald Bruch to
use 1,000 lab-raised yearlings to restock the Upper Fox River, which drains
into Winnebago. "We'll surgically implant radio tags in 24 yearlings, he
said. "That will open up a whole new base of information on habitat,
temperatures and location. If we catch the fish every couple of years, we'll
be able to see its evolutionary pattern.
"By doing this," he continued, "we develop a template for Lake Michigan. We
are proposing a rehabilitation effort that will stretch from Manitowoc all
the way down to the Illinois-Indiana border. If it is accepted, Chicago will
play a big role because we have historical data showing that sturgeon once
spawned in the shoals right offshore from the city."
Elsewhere on the Great Lakes, biologists of the federal Fish and Wildlife
Service, Canada's Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources and Michigan's
Department of Natural Resources are jointly studying the age and movement of
sturgeon populations. Their efforts are aided by commercial fishermen and
recreational divers.
Tracy Hill, of the wildlife service at Alpena, Mich., works with 11
commercial fishermen who have inadvertently caught 302 sturgeon in their
nets since 1995 and measured and tagged them for the scientists. One
sturgeon originally tagged in Lake Winnebago in 1978 was caught in Lake
Huron in 1993, in Lake Erie in 1997, and finally died in 1999 in the harbor
of Sandusky, Ohio.
"We are working hand in glove with the Canadians, who have tagged 3,000
sturgeon in Lake Huron," he said, while biologists on the Michigan side of
Huron have tagged 1,000 in Lake St. Clair, just above Detroit. Some
specialists are working on designs of "staircases" to enable spawning
sturgeon to bypass dams.
"But we're looking at 50, 70, possibly 100 years to achieve that," Mr. Hill
said. "That is a generation or two in a sturgeon's maximum life span."
Mr. Binkowski concurs. "We may argue, and do, that sturgeon are probably the
best aquatic indicator of the health of the Great Lakes ecosystem," he said.
"But it is a hard sell because the public can't see instant results of our
work and sturgeon rehabilitation could only be enjoyed by the great
grandchildren of its benefactors."
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July 2, 2002
California Lawmakers Vote to Lower Auto Emissions
By JOHN H. CUSHMAN Jr.
<http://graphics7.nytimes.com/images/dropcap/a.gif> fter a long and bitter
debate, lawmakers in California today passed the nation's strongest
legislation to regulate emissions of the main pollutant that can cause
warming of the planet's climate, a step that would require automakers to
sell cars that give off the least possible amount of heat-trapping gases.By
the narrowest of margins, the State Assembly passed the California Climate
Bill, which for the first time gives the agency that regulates air pollution
in the state the power to limit emissions of carbon dioxide, the main gas
that scientists say is building up in the atmosphere and causing a warming
of Earth's climate.The vote was 41 to 30, with 9 members not voting and with
a majority of 41 needed to pass the bill. Democrats control the Assembly 50
to 30, and the vote was mostly along party lines, with Republicans in
opposition.With the California Senate having passed the measure, 23 to 16,
on Saturday, the Assembly's action seemed to signal that the bill would soon
go to Gov. Gray Davis for his signature, though a few procedural hurdles
might still derail it. Steven Maviglio, a spokesman for Mr. Davis, said the
governor made this statement about the bill: "This bill represents good
public policy, but it has been subject to many amendments over the past
several days. I will read all the amendments when the bill arrives on my
desk before making a final decision."Environmental advocates called the bill
the most significant step ever taken to control heat-trapping gases in the
United States, which is the world's leading source of such pollutants but
which, under President Bush, has refused to join a global pact to restrict
their emissions.Automakers contend that California is taking a unilateral
step to increase the fuel efficiency of vehicles, something the federal
government has not done for years. Because carbon dioxide is given off
whenever gasoline is burned, the only way to cut how much of it vehicles
produce is to make ones that burn less gasoline or to sell ones driven by
electricity or by other means.The measure would not take effect until 2005,
and the first models that would come under its restrictions would be sold in
2009. Even so, environmental groups said this was the most important step to
cut emissions of heat-trapping gases since global climate change first came
to public attention some 20 years ago.Fred Krupp, the president of
Environmental Defense, a group that lobbied hard for the bill, said it was a
sign that "solutions are at hand" for the threat of global
warming."Finally," Mr. Krupp said, "somewhere in our governmental system,
one state has taken action."But other states, including Massachusetts, have
taken steps, though more modest, to reduce emissions of heat-trapping gases.
Assemblyman Dario J. Frommer, a Los Angeles Democrat who supported the bill,
said today: "In the long term, we'll all be served by cleaner air and
reducing global warning. We have four of the dirtiest cities in the nation
in this state. It is time for us to lead the nation in a responsible and
measured approach, which is what we have in this bill."But Assemblyman
Dennis Hollingsworth, Republican of Murrieta, who opposed the bill, said:
"This will cost lives. `The reason it will cost lives is that it will price
people out of the market. So they will keep their older cars, which do not
have the safety features of newer cars."Automakers sought to thwart the bill
with a vigorous campaign of television commercials and other publicity
suggesting that the measure would result in a ban on sport utility vehicles
and large cars.In a compromise, the Assembly required that the bill not
impose taxes or other prohibitions on large cars, and provided that
automakers could pay other companies that emit heat-trapping gases to reduce
their pollution, offsetting cuts that automakers would otherwise have to
make.Even so, the automakers reacted negatively to the measure passed
today."This is another form of regulating fuel economy," said Chris Preuss,
a spokesman for the General Motors Company. "That is strictly the right and
authority of the federal government. There are more proactive ways of
dealing with the environmental issues in California than this type of
legislative approach."Environmentalists argued that while fuel economy
standards were regulated only by federal laws, California had the right to
regulate all forms of air pollution, and that the current bill was carefully
written to limit emissions of carbon dioxide, not fuel efficiency.California
is the largest market for automobiles in the United States, as well as the
state with more serious air pollution problems than any other. Under federal
clean air legislation, the state's air quality regulators are allowed to set
standards for automobile pollution that are stricter than those imposed by
federal law. In the past, many other states have followed California's lead
in setting pollution rules on vehicles, and ultimately American automakers
have been forced to build cars that meet California's standards and to sell
them nationwide.Heat-trapping gases, which are given off mainly when people
burn fossil fuels, come from many sources; cars, homes, factories, power
plants and farms are the most important. But transportation is the leading
source.
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July 2, 2002
Arizona Fire Scars Apache-White Relations
By MICHAEL JANOFSKY with NICK MADIGAN
<http://graphics7.nytimes.com/images/dropcap/c.gif> IBECUE, Ariz., July 1
— On the first of every month, Bernice Caddo cashes her Social Security
check and heads 35 miles north to Show Low to shop for food, clothing and
other family needs.
Today, Ms. Caddo decided not to go. She was frightened, she said, and many
other members of the White Mountain Apache living here were, too. "Maybe
I'll go in a few weeks, after things calm down," she said. "But not now."
Ms. Caddo, 61, and the others said they feared hatred and retribution from
white communities for the act of one Apache, Leonard Gregg, 29, a contract
firefighter who was arrested on Sunday and charged with starting a fire that
converged with a smaller one and grew into the largest wildfire in Arizona
history. Known as the Rodeo-Chediski fire, it has consumed more than 467,000
acres and is only 45 percent contained.
Hot, dry conditions almost guarantee that the fire will burn at least a week
more.
The blaze has caused economic devastation across an area famous for hunting,
fishing and scenic beauty, and it has not discriminated. Show Low and other
communities north of here, mostly populated by whites, have lost more than
420 homes. The Apache have lost pine forests that supported a timber
industry employing tribe members.
But as Mr. Gregg awaits a court appearance on Wednesday in Flagstaff to
enter a plea, psychological devastation is evident as well.
Here in Cibecue, home to 2,000 Apaches, it has taken the form of fear,
anxiety and even anger. Since Mr. Gregg was arrested for starting the Rodeo
fire, Apaches say their northern neighbors have shown little sympathy for
their losses, and rumors are spreading across Cibecue that Apaches are
unwelcome in white communities and that restaurants will not serve them.
"This has been there a long time," Belinda Colelay, 23, a teacher's
assistant, said of years of friction between the whites to the north and the
Apaches. "Now it's only going to get worse. Now they have a reason to hate
us; they don't have to look for excuses. Leonard gave them one."
Whether or not the rumors are true, Ms. Colelay and others say they feel
growing enmity from residents of Show Low and other towns. Ms. Colelay said
she and friends recently waited 45 minutes at an empty Show Low fast-food
restaurant before someone took their order.
But just the perception of discord has convinced many Apaches that they have
to change their lives. They no longer feel comfortable, they said, driving
to Show Low to shop or see a movie. Now, they said, they will drive 60
mountainous miles south to Globe.
"Show Low is going to direct their anger at us," said Richard Collateta, 39,
who said he had Apache friends who recently got into parking-lot fights with
whites in Show Low. "Look, I understand it. If they say something to me, I
say something to them. It turns into a fight. I don't know how long it's
going to take to cool things down, but we're not going to Show Low anymore."
To some whites in Show Low, the largest of the white communities north of
the Apaches, the change is understandable. David Marley, 46, a plumber who
has lived in Show Low for eight years, acknowledged mutual resentment, but
suggested it was stronger on the part of the Apaches.
"The Native American tribes have a large amount of resentment toward those
who are not of the tribe," Mr. Marley said. "They go to a bar and they keep
to themselves."
Mr. Marley said he had stopped going to his favorite bar and dance hall, the
Lion's Den, in Pinetop a few miles southeast of Show Low, "because a lot of
the Native Americans go there and it's hard for the white people to have
fun."
Kelvin Beach, 59, a plumbing contractor whose house in Linden was saved,
although barely, said: "A lot of people are upset that it was started by one
of the Indians. They're the first ones crying about how their timber
industry is destroyed."
For many Apaches, the feelings of fear and anger are heightened by a sense
of judicial betrayal. The authorities investigating the cause of both fires
said they had interest in Valinda Jo Elliott, 31, a white woman who became
lost while hiking and is believed to have set the smaller blaze, the
Chediski, by lighting underbrush to gain the attention of a passing
helicopter.
So far, no one has been charged in the Chediski fire, which burned west of
the Rodeo one in an area of thick pines. Even though the circumstances were
different — prosecutors said Mr. Gregg started the fire to earn money as a
contract firefighter, and he all but admitted his guilt in court on Sunday —
it did not make sense to many Apaches that he was in a Flagstaff jail and
Ms. Elliott remained free.
"That's not equal justice," said Enoch Lupe, 50. "That lady burned all our
timber. She also burned sacred Indian sites. We say, `Who did this?' We
hear, `It was a white lady.' So here there is blame for everybody. But only
one person is in jail."
Ms. Caddo said: "One Apache. One white. The way I look at it is, they're
equal. So no one should say anything against each other."
Mr. Marley, the Show Low plumber, said the Apache were using the two
incidents as an excuse to charge racism.
Not that any Apache was willing to exonerate Mr. Gregg, who was being held
in a Coconino County jail. He was routinely derided by residents here as
stupid and selfish for trying to solve his financial problems through fire.
Many said he had deprived the tribe of its most valuable asset: timber from
forests the Indians regard as sacred. As a result, the town's lumber mill
has closed, costing hundreds of Apaches their jobs and adding to a tribal
unemployment rate already over 60 percent.
"Sure, we're angry at him," said Mr. Collateta, once a logger and avid
hunter who now hunts only for work as an auto mechanic. "If a lightning bolt
had struck, then it would have been different. But for him to start the
fire, just to make some money, that's ridiculous."
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