Amy Noel Van Buren


Doctoral Candidate

 

My interest in ecology began with an independent undergraduate research project at the University of Washington. Under the direction of Dr. Daniel Schindler, I conducted a field manipulation to examine the relative effects on odonate communities of two introduced teleost predators (carp and rainbow trout) and a native anuran predator (tiger salamanders) in six lakes on the Columbia National Wildlife Refuge. In this system, carp are characterized as being stronger predators/competitors than rainbow trout, while the predation effect of tiger salamanders is unknown. Using length, headcapsule width, and density data for the three families of odonates found in 24 experimental enclosures, I modeled the effects of predator, lake, and treatment on biomass of the three families. I also examined the allometry of length and headcapsule width using the same factors (predator, lake, and treatment). The results suggest a moderate negative effect of carp, a mixed effect of rainbow trout, and no effect of tiger salamanders on odonate biomass. 

This study provided wonderful introduction to field ecology. The fieldwork was not always glamorous; in fact, I spent the majority of a summer submerged to my waist in less than pristine lake water. But at the end of 4 months I emerged triumphantly with more than fifty Ziploc baggies containing an enticing mixture of algae and aquatic invertebrates steeped in ethanol. 

Following graduation in 1999, I began working as a field biologist and a research technician for Dr. P. Dee Boersma, of the University of Washington. It is my experiences at Punta Tombo, Argentina, and at New Island, in the Falkland Islands working with penguins that have most influenced my academic, research, and professional interests. 

Although Punta Tombo and the Falklands harbor some of the same penguin species, these sites differ in weather, habitat characteristics, productivity, and oceanographic conditions. For example, the Magellanic penguin colony at Punta Tombo suffered almost complete reproductive failure in 1999 and 2000, from different causes operating at different scales. In comparison, the Magellanics nesting on New Island seem to consistently fledge more, and heavier, chicks than those at Punta Tombo. Within the broader disciplines of conservation biology and ecology, my proposed graduate research will focus on marine biology, specifically on the influence of ocean forcing factors and environmental variability on the dynamics of a mixed-seabird colony in the Falkland Islands. After graduation, I hope to expand my research to encompass other seabird species and marine systems, either in an academic or agency setting. In particular, I want to use my understanding of science and ocean processes to help reduce conflicts between human activities and marine ecosystem integrity. 

I did not "always" want to be a marine biologist. In fact, I have taken a rather circuitous route to graduate study. During the years I spent away from school, I held jobs in everything from retail to ranching and from fast food to commercial fishing. Exploring potential occupations enabled me to examine my interests and refine my long-term career goals. Those years also taught me to evaluate ideas and conflicts from different perspectives. For example, having worked in cattle ranching and commercial fishing, I recognize that these extractive industries are not just livelihoods, they are a way of life. Finally, while my intellectual curiosity centers on a desire to understand marine systems, my motivation derives from a commitment to conservation.

 

Interests: 

 

It was the loveliest day we had had so far that season. The expansive blue sky was dotted with just the right amount of white fluffy cloud: enough to break the monotony, but not so much as to obscure the spring sun. It was not too warm, not too cool, with a light southerly breeze, no dust, and a picturesque sailboat moored just offshore. The dead chicks were already starting to rot. Their water-softened skin tore so easily, I found it difficult not to mangle the sodden little corpses when I dragged them from their nests for a final weigh and measure. I had expected that many of the chicks would probably be dead. Still, as I began my rounds, I approached each bush and burrow with hopeful anticipation: maybe this one will have live chicks. The day was December 7, 1999. It was the middle of my first field season as a volunteer studying Magellanic penguins at Punta Tombo, Argentina, under the direction of Dr. P. Dee Boersma. Two days earlier, torrential rains, bitter cold, and gale force winds had combined to kill tens of thousands of Magellanic penguin chicks. This event catapulted my understanding of stochasticity far beyond the abstract theories of textbooks and classrooms and provided a brutal yet enlightening real-life introduction to the phenomenon called El NiƱo. 

I returned to Punta Tombo in September 2000 for what I hoped would be a better season, at least for the penguins. When the first adults began abandoning their nests and eggs, I dismissed them simply as inexperienced parents. But as the incubation period progressed to hatching, each day added incomprehensibly to the number of abandoned nests, broken eggs, and starving chicks. It was not until I was back in Seattle long after the season ended that we began to conceive an explanation for what turned out to be the second worst breeding failure in 20 years at the colony. Data on nest attendance, foraging locations, and sea surface temperatures suggested an intriguing link between Magellanic penguin reproductive success and variation in seasonal ocean temperature patterns in the southwest Atlantic.