Category: entomology

  • The munchy mountain mystery of the lost bark beetle!

    The munchy mountain mystery of the lost bark beetle!

    Have you ever bitten into a slice of bread, only to find out that it’s gone mouldy? Yuck! But what causes mould, and how does it spread? This was a mystery solved by scientists in the 1800s.

    Fungal branches. CC BY-SA 4.0 Rafał Szczerski

    Mould in bread is caused by a fungus (fungi for multiple). Fungi are made of many tiny branches that grow into a huge maze. These branches reach out to find food from the environment around them; the branches spread from a central point to search for food at the edges. As resources run low, the middle of the fungus dies, creating an expanding ring of live branches. There are many types of fungi out there, and mould is one type that we try to avoid when we store our fruit, vegetables, and bread. When scientists discovered fungi, they solved one mystery, but there are new questions to be answered.

    One mystery involves a type of insect that loves to eat fungi: beetles! Specifically, beetles in the group called Brontini. These little guys eat fungi when they are larvae (baby beetles before they’ve become adults). Usually, the these larvae eat fungi under the bark of trees, but recently a special Brontini beetle was found. This beetle, called Protodendrophagus antipodes by scientists, lives up in the mountains of New Zealand, above the treeline in the alpine zone. Protodendrophagus antipodes is a long name, so we’ll call them Anti.

    Anti (Protodendrophagus antipodes) larva. Photo credit: John Marris.

    Anti are special for more than one reason. First, they live way up in the cold alpine area, which is a harsh environment to live in. The freezing temperatures and dry environment even stop trees from growing there! Second, every other species of Brontini beetle feeds on fungi under tree bark. Confusingly, the area where Anti lives doesn’t have these fungi. Since it’s too high up the mountain for trees to grow, there’s no fungi under tree bark for the beetles to munch on. And so, one group of enthusiastic scientists decided to figure out what these little guys eat. Let’s meet our investigators!

    Our team is made up of three skilled diet detectives: John Marris (“The Mastermind”) – the strategic leader who knows the ins and outs of beetles; David Hawke (“The Brains”) – a science whiz with a flair for chemistry; and David Glenny (“The Sidekick”) – your friendly neighbourhood plant expert. Together, the team solved the mini mystery in the mountains: where is the food for Anti?

    Lichen on rock. CC BY 4.0 Caleb Catto

    In 2018, the team went into the Southern Alps on an exciting trip to examine the scene and gather more evidence. They found two very important clues. First, there were lots of lichens in the areas where the beetles live. Second, sometimes the beetles lived where there wasn’t anything else to eat. I bet you can guess what our prime menu suspect is!

    You’ve probably seen lichens around, though you may not have known what they were. Lichens grow on trees and rocks, but they’re not just one species; lichens are an example of a “symbiotic relationship”. This is when two organisms work together to boost each other’s chance of survival. In this case, the organisms work so closely together that the lichen itself is actually made up of both species! The body of the lichen is a strong skeleton built from fungus. Inside that skeleton live algae, plant-like organisms that can use the sun to make food. In this way, the fungus keeps the algae safe, and the algae feed the fungus. Win win! Cha-ching!

    Spores from a fungus. CC BY 4.0 Aurora Storlazzi

    Since lichens are made up of fungi, this seemed like a pretty good place for our detectives to start. Every good private eye needs evidence to make their case. Thankfully, our clever detectives saw a way to test their theory: the stomach contents of the beetles! They collected some Anti as “evidence” and looked at the food in their stomachs. Inside they found spores that came from a lichen fungus.

    “What is a spore?” you may ask. Remember that maze of branches that make up a fungus? Well, sometimes the branches can’t find enough food for the fungus to eat. If that happens, the fungus has a new strategy to survive: spores! These are little circular pieces of fungus that can spread to new areas and find the fungus a better home.

    CC BY 4.0 Luis Prado

    But their work wasn’t done yet: the detectives found more than just lichen spores in their beetle stomachs. They also found a whole bunch of mystery food which they couldn’t identify. The scientists needed to confirm that lichens really are the only food eaten by Anti. So, the scientists put their thinking hats on and decided to find a new way to solve this puzzle. They chose to use an approach called the “stable isotope test”.

    An isotope is a special form of elements, such as nitrogen and carbon, and organisms at the bottom of the food chain absorb them from the environment. If an animal eats something, then the isotopes of the animal should be pretty similar to its food.To solve this mystery, the scientists tested the isotopes of Anti and all of the potential foods in the area. A good detective looks at all the possible solutions, so they tested the soil, the mosses, the lichens, the tiny mountain plants, and even a type of spider.

    At last, the detective work was done. Their test showed just what we’re all thinking: the Anti beetle really does eat lichen. The link was so clear that David Hawke called it a “textbook example” of the test in action. The scientists were very excited because lichen-eating is pretty rare for beetles.

    After all their investigation, the detectives could finally declare: “case closed!” Now we have a new mystery: how do these beetles survive in the extreme cold of the alpine zone?

    This article was prepared by Master of Science student Heidi Allan as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

  • To bait, or not to bait…: wētā foraging and brodifacoum

    To bait, or not to bait…: wētā foraging and brodifacoum

    I am lucky that my parents live right down the road from the Brook Waimārama Sanctuary. This 690 hectare fenced sanctuary is home to many native species and is about to be home to 40 spotted kiwis (Exciting!!!!). Within this Sanctuary there are “wētā hotels” that offers a haven for wētā, although I have also seen a giant leopard slug in there as well. I often visit the Sanctuary, it has a lot of history and diversity. Sanctuaries offer a safe space for vulnerable native species away from large predators. The surrounding predator-proof fence keeps the bad things out and the good things in. Unfortunately, the rest of New Zealand isn’t exactly pest free, with a lot of our native species being hunted down every day by introduced pests.

    Predator Free 2050 is an exciting goal that is only 25 years away. With our unique flora and fauna, why wouldn’t we want our beautiful country to be predator free? Predator Free 2050 has a focus on removing several pest species (rats, mustelids and possums). Pest Free Banks Peninsula (PFBP) is a local project focused on protecting our beautiful coast, islands and land within Banks Peninsula. PFBP has several methods and tools to eradicate and monitor pests. A common toxin used by PFBP is brodifacoum.

    File:Female tree weta on tree fern.jpg
    A Tree Weta (Image from Avenue , 2010, CC BY S.A 3.0)

    There are concerns about whether toxins, specifically brodifacoum, is killing our native species. These tasty but deadly treats are targeted at mammalian pests, but native invertebrates have also been munching away at the cereal baits that contain the toxin when they come across it. Brodifacoum-laced baits became a popular pest control toxin in the 1990s.

    Quail Island is an island found near Lyttelton. The original vegetation was believed to be a broadleaf-podocarp forest, a rare forest type seen only in small areas around New Zealand. Since 1998 volunteers have been working at restoring the native ecology of the island by regularly planting native trees and targeting pests with toxins. Evidence of native birds breeding would be a good indication that restoration efforts are working and that pest control can make Quail Island a place where native species can flourish.

    Two tree wētā spotted in a wētā hotel at the Brook Waimārama Sanctuary (Photo taken by Author: Kayla Valentine)

    Brodifacoum bait has been used on Quail Island. It is highly effective at reducing mammalian pests. Its purpose on Quail Island was to stop reintroduction of rodents. Due to Quail Island being close to the mainland, mammalian pest are able to cross over at low tide. This slow invasion prevents Quail Island from being completely predator free.

    On Quail Island the brodifacoum baits were found to have been nibbled by wētā and other invertebrates! This discovery flustered scientists. How many other native invertebrates have yet to be identified for consuming the bait?

    This discovery led to increasing concern for our wētā species, many endangered or threatened. How many have died due to our toxic baits?

    A monitoring tool showing possible wētā trails within the Brook Waimārama Sanctuary (Photo taken by Author: Kayla Valentine)

    Studies focused on invertebrate consumption of baits have primarily used baits containing 1080. The studies that involve brodifacoum have also only focused on short-term effects (14-21 days) and one-off consumption of the bait. These hungry invertebrates are likely going for more than one course of their bait snack.

    Mike Bowie and James Ross wanted to determine whether wētā were regularly consuming these forbidden snacks and whether they would survive when they did. They tested in the field and did a laboratory experiment too. The laboratory experiment consisted of wētā being fed either baits with or without brodifacoum and then monitored for 60 days for insect mortality. The field test involved monitoring traps around Quail Island for invertebrate activity.

    Unfortunately, the wētā were hungry. For the field test they found that wētā and invertebrates would line up and wait their turn to eat! The wētā had distinct bite patterns when eating the bait, compared to pests such as mice. Wētā bite marks were easy to identify. In the laboratory test there was no significant difference in mortality of wētā (50% survived that were fed bait, 71% survived that were fed the control ). Mike and James determined more research was needed to be done in order for results to be more conclusive.

    Quail Island from the Peninsula at low tide. (Image from Greg Hewgill, 2006, CC BY 2.0, Flickr)

    So, what does that tell us exactly? The baiting methods we use to get rid of the bad things are also attracting the good things! Our native species are eating the toxins we are using to remove the pests that are eating our native species! We need to find a compromise, a less risky option for our often overlooked native invertebrates.

    Brodifacoum is also a risk to birds’ species! If a bird eats an invertebrate that has eaten brodifacoum, they will be affected by the poison as well. Joanne Hoare and Kelly Hare agree with this and suggest using non-toxic or less toxic methods for pests to protect native species. There seems to be a common theme with studies done on brodifacoum… its toxic for every species! There are several concerns, not just about birds and wētā consuming the bait but many other invertebrates and species consuming it as well.

    So, to bait or not to bait? Mike Bowie and James Ross showed that although there were no significant differences in mortality through the laboratory test, the wētā were eating the bait in the field test and laboratory test. I believe that in order to protect our native species, a less toxic baiting method should be considered. This will reduce long-term harm to species such as wētā. All though brodifacoum is highly successful at getting rid of pests, it can also harm other species. If there are other methods that reduce that risk, we should start with those methods then move to toxic baits as a last resort option on ecologically sensitive areas, such as Quail Island.

    The author, Kayla Valentine, is a postgraduate student in the Postgraduate Diploma of Science at Te Whare Wānaka o Aoraki Lincoln University. This article was written as an assessment for ECOL 608 Research Methods in Ecology.

  • A Knobbly Future?

    A Knobbly Future?

    The Story of the Canterbury Knobbled Weevil

    In 2011, scientists found a mere 26 individuals of Hadramphus tuberculatus, an endemic weevil species, nestled within a small reserve in the tawny high country of Canterbury, New Zealand. This was down from 49 individuals found in 2009. Why was the Canterbury knobbled weevil on the brink of extinction, and where does the population stand now – 14 years down the track?

    Burkes Pass is like a portal – a steep hill that suddenly transforms from the Canterbury Plains of green pastures, forestry blocks and hedgerows into the vast glacial basins, dry riverbeds, tussocks and jewel-like lakes of the Mackenzie Country. The Mackenzie of South Canterbury is beautiful, but also brutal – the sweltering heat of summer paired with the freezing frosts of winter means few people live here.

    On the saddle of Burkes Pass, it was discovered that a long-lost species of weevil did indeed live in this brutal landscape. Called the Canterbury knobbled weevil or Hadramphus tuberculatus, it was scientifically named in 1887, and was found in reasonable numbers, on the then-uncultivated Canterbury Plains. Since then, it has been seldom encountered, particularly after the clearing of its favourite host plant, the Aciphylla – commonly known as the Speargrass plant.

    The weevil was considered extinct, until 2004, when a University of Canterbury student – Laura Young – stumbled across one of these knobbly weevils in a Burkes Pass reserve, rediscovering the species. However, a following study conducted in 2013 found that the species was in decline in Burkes Pass. So, how did they monitor it? How does this weevil survive and what is its future?

    Illustration of Hadramphus tuberculatus, by Des Helmore.
    Illustration of Hadramphus tuberculatus, by Desmond W. Helmore (CC BY 4.0).

    Like the birds of New Zealand, the insects here have evolved without most mammalian predators – with the New Zealand bats being an exception. Many species exhibit traits, such as flightlessness, gigantism, and an inability to self-defend from mammalian predators. The weevil genus Hadramphus is endemic to New Zealand and is a good example of these traits.

    Hadramphus contains four species: H. spinipennis, H. stilbocarpae, H. pittospori and of course the Canterbury knobbled weevil, H. tuberculatus. A common feature amongst all Hadramphus species is their larger size relative to other New Zealand weevils, their flightlessness, and their unfortunate vulnerability to recently introduced mammalian predators.

    The relatives of H. tuberculatus survive in far-flung parts of New Zealand, such as offshore islands and the remotest parts of Fiordland. H. tuberculatus lives in the tussock grasslands of Canterbury, where introduced mammalian predators are much more common. This probably explains the scarcity of the species. The Canterbury knobbled weevil also relies on speargrasses – which are terribly spiky plants but grows impressive flower bunches called inflorescences. Speargrasses were once more common on the lowlands of Canterbury, but have disappeared, due to changes in land use.

    Interestingly, the Canterbury knobbled weevil is one of the few invertebrate species in New Zealand with a legally protected status – under the Wildlife Act. Most invertebrates in New Zealand are considered unprotected.

    A Canterbury Knobbled Weevil adult in hand by Warren Chinn via iNaturalist (CC BY-NC 4.0).

    Because of the apparent threats, entomologists (insect scientists) decided to conduct a survey-based study on the Canterbury knobbled weevil population at Burkes Pass. Through the summers of 2009-2011, pitfall traps were placed out in order to catch these weevils in a small section of a Department of Conservation reserve near Burkes Pass and in adjacent private farmland. This area has large amounts of the golden speargrass (Aciphylla aurea).

    Empty pitfall traps are a type of non-deadly trap to catch insects. They are usually cups placed discreetly in the ground, that unsuspecting terrestrial critters fall into to. The researchers checked these pitfall traps weekly, and a little piece of speargrass was kept in the pitfall trap to feed trapped weevils. Weevils found in a pitfall trap were recorded, measured, and even marked with a unique identification number – in case it was recaptured.

    Unfortunately, the study showed a worrying trend. In 2009, 49 weevils were captured in the pitfall traps, then 41 weevils in 2010 – and then in a drastic drop, 26 weevils were captured in 2011.

    In the 2009 season, a small number of the weevils caught were in the farmland pitfall traps – meaning that they existed beyond the confines of the reserve. But, by 2011, this number of weevils caught in farmland became zero. This might have meant that the reserve was a better place for the weevils, but ultimately they were declining all the same. Many weevils in the reserve were recaptured again and could be re-identified with unique numbers written on their wings! Although the weevils can’t fly, some had been recaptured up to 190 metres away within the reserve – that’s a lot of walking for a flightless insect!

    So, why were the weevils declining? The researchers make no specific discussion on this point, however introduced predators may be the main culprit – particularly rodents. A more recent 2024 study on large-bodied alpine invertebrates in southern New Zealand found that sites with mice had less wētā (a group of cricket-like insects) and these wētā were slightly larger on average when compared with sites without mice. Although wētā have a different ecology to weevils, there could be a similar story going on in the Canterbury high country.

    Since this study, the outlook for the Canterbury knobbled weevil has been grim. Although a ton of work has gone into the Burkes Pass site – including pest-resistant fencing, weed control, and continued searching, there hasn’t been any recent re-discoveries of the weevil here, although bugs have a special talent of hiding in plain sight. Most people are not looking out for funny-looking weevils that live on one of the most hostile plants in New Zealand.

    In a similar circumstance to the 2004 re-discovery, John Evans happened to come across a large weevil on a speargrass near Lake Heron – in the high country of Ashburton Lakes – in 2024. Uploading the observation to iNaturalist, it was quickly confirmed as a Canterbury knobbled weevil by entomologists – revealing a new population of the species. Later searches discovered even more weevils, creating new hope that the species could live on. Despite this amazing discovery, the same conservation issues remain – how can this species be effectively protected for long-term conservation? Perhaps new initiatives for pest control need to be developed – particularly for mice – but this has yet to be established.

    Lake Heron, in the Ashburton high country basin. A new population of Hadramphus tuberculatus was recently discovered nearby. Photo by the author.

    Unlike other species of Hadramphus, the Canterbury knobbled weevil cannot rely on remote offshore islands for survival – as the Canterbury speargrass ecosystems are important for its survival. Mammalian predator control and the protection of the weevil’s host plant should be the priorities.

    Translocation of the species is another option that could be considered, especially given that the weevil did survive in captivity. The Canterbury knobbled weevil could be considered a flagship species for these unique dryland ecosystems in eastern New Zealand, which are often overlooked as important part of New Zealand biodiversity.

    The critical status of this species is a reminder of the enormous loss of biodiversity that has occurred in the Canterbury region. Imagine if knobbled weevils were commonplace on speargrass plants again, living alongside various other native flora and fauna that is facing a similar fate? Losing this species to extinction would be a further loss of what makes this region unique.

    This article was prepared by Master of Science student Noah Fenwick as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course in the Department of Pest-Management and Conservation.

    Links/References

    Bertoia A., Murray T. J., Robertson B. C., Monks J. M. (2024). Introduced mice influence the large-bodied alpine invertebrate community. Biological Invasions 26:3281-3297. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10530-024-03370-x

    Fountain E. D., Wiseman B. H., Cruickshank R. H., & Paterson A. M. (2013). The ecology and conservation of Hadramphus tuberculatus (Pascoe 1877) (Coleoptera: Curculionidae: Molytinae). Journal of Insect Conservation 17:737-745. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10841-013-9557-9

    Department of Conservation (New Zealand) Website (20 December 2024). “New population of critically endangered beetle found”. https://www.doc.govt.nz/news/media-releases/2024-media-releases/new-population-of-critically-endangered-beetle-found/

    New Zealand Legislation. Wildlife Act 1953 (6 May 2022). “Schedule 7: Terrestrial and freshwater invertebrates declared to be animals.https://www.legislation.govt.nz/act/public/1953/0031/latest/whole.html#DLM278595

    Pawson S. M. (2005). Weevil Upheaval. New Zealand Geographic, Issue 72. https://www.nzgeo.com/stories/weevil-upheaval/

    Young L. M., Marris J. W. M., & Pawson S. M. (2008). Back from extinction: rediscovery of the Canterbury knobbled weevil Hadramphus tuberculatus (Pascoe 1877) (Coleoptera: Curculionidae), with a review of its historical distribution. New Zealand Journal of Zoology 35:323-330.

  • A bounty hunter in the Subantarctic

    A bounty hunter in the Subantarctic

    I’ve been a fan of Star Wars since I was a nine year old being driven to Dunedin to see this new SF film that was supposed to be quite good. There in the Octagon Theatre my young mind was blown by what I saw. We’d never seen anything quite like it. I still can vividly recall the final attack run down the canyon on the Death Star. It was like you were in the cockpit of Luke’s X-Wing.

    Over the last 47 years I have seen most of the Star Wars movies and series. I even didn’t mind the prequel movies. One of my favourite characters was Boba Fett, the bounty hunter. He seemed cool and I liked that he didn’t take off his helmet (I was also about to become a 2000AD Judge Dredd fan, probably for similar reasons). The Mandalorian, featuring more on the galaxy bounty hunters, is one of my favourite Star Wars series.

    Who doesn’t love Grogu? Image by Adrian Paterson

    I’m not sure why I enjoy the SW IP, the stories are reasonably predictable, the names are awkward and clunky, but I guess it is fun, looks good and has some interesting diversity (it’s definitely not all filmed in an abandoned British quarry like most other SF at the time). I particularly liked the islands on Ahch-To where the elderly Luke Skywalker was living as a recluse. Their ruggedness, isolation and ‘bird’ fauna seemed like our NZ Subantarctic islands.

    In the Subantarctic we have our own bounty hunter with the strangely Star Wars-like name of Pacificana cockayni. This spider species, like a Jedi hermit, is only found on the Bounty Islands (a wind-swept collection of small islets) that are very seldom visited by humans. It spends its time hunting among a sparse five other species of spiders and 22 insect species. There are a bunch of seabird species that use the islands for breeding. It’s a harsh place to live and has a precarious food web.

    Pacificana cockayni was first collected by the great botanist, Leonard Cockayne, in 1903. There were a handful of future visits where female adults and juveniles were collected and finally a male was found. When describing a species it is useful to have adults of both sexes (and in spiders differences are exaggerated and easier to find in males). In more recent times molecular approaches, sequencing DNA, allows for a more precise understanding of who your species might be related to.

    Pacificana cockayni. Image by Thomas Mattern.

    Cockayne sent the original samples to a leading British arachnologist of the time with a decidedly non-Star Wars name, but suitably impressive nonetheless, Henry Roughton Hogg (OK maybe a little Star Warsy… I can see an Imperial Star destroyer being commanded by Admiral Roughton Hogg). Hogg decided that Pacificana cockayni was different enough from other spiders to be in its own genus. He then guessed at the family. (“These aren’t the spiders you are looking for.”)

    Over the years other travellers collected a handful of specimens when their journeys brought them to the Bountys. These include the great spider specialist Ray Forster. (“May the Forster be with you‘), one of my first PhD students, Frances Schmechel, and recent masters student, Robin Long.

    Time moves on and we are not in that galaxy far far away now. Many of the spider species lumped together as a big group by Hogg have been moved to more accurate placements by spider specialists over the last century. Cor Vink (Lincoln University), Phil Sirvid (Museum of NZ) and Nadine Duperre (Liebniz Institute) decided to sort out the status of Pacificana cockayni. They could see that things were a mess (“Hogg, you have failed me for the last time“).

    They looked carefully at the various structures of Pacificana cockayni and compared these to the various options for relatives (“Hmmm aren’t you kinda short to be a Miturgidae?”). For example, they found that the stridulatory field on prolateral face of male coxa of leg 1 was different to other closely related species (which to most sounds about as meaningful to the uninitiated as midiclorians).

    Bounty Islands – birds, rocks and a few spiders…. Image by Tui de Roy.

    Vink and colleagues were also able to get DNA from these species as well (or use DNA data that had already been collected). In a recent NZ Journal of Zoology paper they were not able to definitively sort out who the closest relatives of Pacificana cockayni were, but they could show that they had been evolutionary distinct for a long time. Given this distinctiveness and the limited range of this species to the small Bounty Islands archipelago, Pacificana cockayni faces some big problems. “I have a bad feeling about this.

    The maximum height of the Bountys is 73 m, creating a problem with sea level rise taking away land. Climate change is altering prey patterns for the seabird species that bring guano and carrion back to the islands, and which drives the simple invertebrate food webs. Bird populations are also declining through climate influences and from fisheries. Fewer birds means less food for everyone else that’s stuck on these islands (“It’s a trap!“). And, despite the isolation, there is always the risk of a rodent invasion from a visiting boat. Rodents love munching on large invertebrates.

    Like a rare Jedi knight on the fringes of the galaxy, Pacificana cockayni have faced and triumphed over tough times. Vink and colleagues have allowed us to know just how special this species is and why we should work hard to protect it to give it a fair chance to survive into the future.

    This is the way.

    This article was written by Adrian Paterson (Pest-management and Conservation at Lincoln University). With writing EcoLincNZ articles, do or do not, there is no try.

  • Jumping to the top of the world: new salticid spider species in the Southern Alps

    Spiders.

    Your reaction to that word might determine whether or not you finish reading this post, but try to bear with me — at least for a little while. While I can accept that most people aren’t nearly as fond of spiders as I am, I think all but the truly arachnophobic (it’s okay; I understand that you can’t help it) can agree that the jumping spiders are among the “cutest” and most acceptable spider groups. These active little hunters can often be found in or around the house, and their big binocular eyes and expressive “face” make them a lot more relatable than your average creepy-crawly. Well, most of them!

    A newly-described female Ourea petroides from the Ōtira River valley, Arthur’s Pass. © own work, 2022. CC-BY-NC.

    Jumping spiders, in the family Salticidae, are among the most well-researched spiders in the world, with over 6,500 species described. Meanwhile, the jumping spiders found in Aotearoa New Zealand – apart from the most commonly-encountered species – are very poorly known to science. There are thought to be around 200 species in NZ, with about 50 known well enough to be named. However, we can only reliably identify fewer than a dozen of them. Compare this with Australia, where hundreds of species are known already, and work to describe the rest is well under way.

    Not to be outdone by the Aussies, Lincoln University’s Robin Long, along with her supervisor Dr Cor Vink, decided to do something about that. For her Master’s project, Robin set out to catalogue and describe the jumping spiders found in some of NZ’s most remote and extreme environments: the rocky heights of the South Island’s alpine zone.

    Robin visited 21 different sites all over the Southern Alps, from Paparoa to Fiordland, collecting 170 jumping spider specimens (all by hand!) from up to 1,800 m above sea level — and logging some impressive hiking mileage in the process!

    Looking across the Ōtira River at a scree slope where Ourea petroides can be found, Arthur’s Pass. © own work, 2022. CC-BY-NC.

    Through DNA analysis and careful examination of microscopic features on each spider, Robin separated those 170 specimens into 12 new species, and determined that the group was so unlike others known to science that it represented a brand new genus (a group of closely-related species with a common ancestor). She named this genus Ourea because, like the ancient Greek mountain gods, many of the species were found to be associated with a specific mountain range.

    Many of NZ’s indigenous species are only found across quite small areas, often because of the (relatively) recent and rapid growth of our mountains — which even today continue to grow taller by around 7 mm per year. Formerly widespread species were split into separate populations by the tectonic uplift, and over the last few million years these now-isolated populations have diverged into new species. Robin’s jumping spiders, much like many other NZ alpine species, took advantage of the ample prey and new habitats created by the growth of these mountain ranges. Over time these spiders even developed cryptic colours and patterns that help to camouflage them against the particular rock types they live amongst.

    Magnificent moustache: a female(!) Ourea saffroclypeus from the Remarkables Range. © Robin Long, 2022. CC-BY-NC.

    Not content with merely describing a whole genus and a dozen new species, Robin also set about studying and describing the spiders’ behaviours when interacting with other members of the same species. Jumping spiders have exceptional eyesight, and are known for communicating with each other through visual displays that range from the bronze hopper’s simple leg-waving, all the way to the flamboyant, colourful dances (which often incorporate vibration as well) performed by the aptly-named peacock spiders.

    The four Ourea species that Robin observed in the lab each exhibited a unique set of behaviours when they met another spider, and these behaviours differed depending upon whether they met a member of the same or the opposite sex. Males postured fiercely at each other, squaring up in a face-to-face grappling contest with legs and fangs outstretched.

    When attempting to impress a female, males gestured with their legs and “zigzag-danced” their way closer, before attempting to reach out and gently stroke the female’s head. Perhaps unsurprisingly, this final move had quite mixed success! Females meeting each other were a bit more sensible, and usually made a few simple (though probably quite impolite) leg gestures at each other, before one or both turned away and went in the opposite direction.

    Despite the enormous amount of work that went into researching these spiders, Robin acknowledges that her almost 150-page thesis has only scratched the surface of the topic. Little is known of the spiders’ life histories or the individual species’ spatial distributions, and it’s “very likely” that there are additional species in the genus waiting to be discovered on other mountain ranges.

    Exquisite camouflage: Ourea petroides, Ōtira River valley, Arthur’s Pass. © own work, 2022. CC-BY-NC.

    Robin also suggests a similar study would likely uncover another distantly-related group of undescribed jumping spiders living quietly in the Southern Alps. This is a common problem with New Zealand’s invertebrate fauna: while we have a good general understanding of what’s around us, there are still huge gaps in our knowledge — and usually the studies that attempt to address this just end up revealing more unanswered questions!

    We have a rich history of brilliant people, like Robin, studying, documenting, and describing New Zealand’s unique invertebrate biodiversity, and there are still many new discoveries to be made in every corner of our little country. But, despite huge technological advances, research has dwindled in recent decades due to funding redirections and the restructuring of government services.

    Under the looming threats of climate change and habitat loss, we need to pay closer attention to the smallest and most enigmatic (if not always particularly cute) creatures that live alongside us, lest they disappear before we even have a chance to study them. Australia is well ahead of NZ in this regard, with funding and support for taxonomic studies provided through their world-leading ABRS scheme. I’m not much of a sports enjoyer, but beating the Aussies at this game is one trans-Tasman rivalry I could definitely get behind.

    This article was prepared by Bachelor of Science (Honours) student Dustin la Mont as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

  • Thistle do me: a fussy biocontrol beetle

    My mother makes a great liver and bacon. Like many cooks who have spent decades on a sheep farm she is also a dab hand with a great mutton roast, scones, and sponge cakes. She can also preserve fruit at a moments notice. The highest compliment I every received for my own infrequent cooking attempts was from my son when I made some excellent gravy – “Well, he is Nanny’s son” he explained. Family feasts around birthdays and Christmas are common at my mother’s house.

    Edith’s fish pie

    One curious dish that makes an appearance amongst the roast veggies and mint sauce is a dish of fish pie. It’s not a typical part of most peoples’ ‘event dining’ but it is a regular for us in amongst the more high flying hams and legs of lamb. Mum’s humble fish pie is tasty, with lots of eggs and white sauce, and the right amount of rice and corn. More impressively, my sons, my nieces and nephews also love it.

    When someone needs a perk up, they’ve been unwell, or they are passing through on their way to a cold, old student flat, a bowl of Nanny’s fish pie will arrive. When there are lots of different options on a laden table, there is always room on your plate for the fish pie.

    Family gathering, three brothers, empty fish pie dish in centre!

    I can understand how I like it, I’ve been eating it all of my life. I guess it is the same for the grandchildren. It’s a constant and comforting food. I’m sure that every family probably has a similar dish.

    How ingrained are food preferences? Do we build them up over a lifetime of experience or do we arrive with inherited preferences? Perhaps a bit of both? It can make a difference.

    Thistles, from the Cardueae tribe, have been introduced into New Zealand, mostly by mistake as passengers with more useful seeds. Like many other species, thistles have done well here and have established in large numbers and with wide distributions. One of the worst is the Californian thistle (Cirsium arvense), close relative of a nearly as successful invader, and a little more photogenic, Scotch thistle (Cirsium vulgare).

    There have been many attempts to control the spread of these thistles with varying, but generally unsuccessful, outcomes. Ideally, it is great to have a solution that can work without too much effort on our part. A successful biocontrol agent can fit that prescription.

    The green thistle beetle (Cassida rubiginosa) forages and lays eggs for their larvae to grow on species from the Cardueae tribe. This creates problems for health and survival of these plants. Excellent, a solution to our prickly problem!

    Cirsium

    Not so fast. Cardueae is a large group (over 2400 species with many natives in New Zealand). The last thing that we need is a beetle that chomps up lots of the species that we are trying to protect. We also don’t want a beetle that gets distracted by eating other species when it should be eating the target. We’ve been there and done that (see the mustelids brought into NZ to eat the rabbits! Oops). We need to know that this beetle is a little more fussy in its likes.

    A Lincoln-based group, including Jon Sullivan from Pest-management and Conservation, have tested the preferences of the green thistle beetle. They have published in Pest Management Science. They selected 16 different plant species from the Cardueae tribe. Beetles were given the chance to eat each species either with no choice (plonk the beetles on a plant and see what they do) or choice (allow them to select between any pair that is presented to them).

    Crucially, the evolutionary relationships were known between the different plant species. Ideally we want the beetles to only eat thistle species of interest and not just anything vaguely similar (just those that are closely related).

    Green thistle beetle samples in Lincoln University Entomology Research Museum.

    When given no choice the beetles tended to make the best of what was offered. When you are really hungry then that marmalade is edible even if you don’t like it! Give the beetle a choice, however, and they go for the species that is most closely related to the Cirsium species. In fact this was such a strong preference that the researchers were able to conclude that the green thistle beetle is very unlikely to become a problem for anything other than the thistles that we want to control.

    The green thistle beetles are born with preferences for the type of plant that they want to eat and to lay their larvae in. These preferences allow them to adapt and specialise more fully to these plant species. New Zealand does not have any native Cirsium, or other closely related species. So the beetle can go forth and munch to their hearts’ content.

    So, was I born with a hankering for mum’s fish pie? Well it is an old family recipe, so the preference for it probably has passed down through our lineage, probably as something that we re-learn every generation. Now if I get some grandchildren, I will have to make sure that they are exposed to fish pie at an early age!

    Adrian Paterson is a lecturer in Pest-Management and Conservation at Lincoln University. He has a lot of preferences that he would like to explain!

  • Along came a spider, that swam down beside her…

    Christmas is just around the corner and for many this means that it is time to head to the sea. Beach holidays have long been a tradition for kiwi summers. I was no different while growing up and through my adult life. We spent a lot of time at the little beach village of Kaka Point, at the far northern end of the Catlins, in South Otago.

    Not a lot deterred us from hitting the waves. The weather could be a little iffy and the water a little cool but that didn’t matter. You might have a to share the surf with a few other hardy swimmers and the occasional seal but it was bliss. But now I find that I may have been sharing my waves with something slightly more sinister!

    What lies beneath these waves…

    One thing that we know about spiders is that they don’t love water. However, it turns out that there are spiders who do spend time in the sea. This is not just in the inter-tidal zone where we might see them dodging between waves. Marlene Leggett, Cor Vink and Ximena Nelson have a new paper coming out that looks at marine-associated spiders and their adaptations for survival.

    Spiders!

    Marlene terrorises us by showing that these spiders are all over the world. No beach is safe! She does reassure us that these water arachnids only make up 0.3% of all spiders (although that still seems too many). She reviews the work that has been done to show how spiders, usually very terrestrial, can survive in such a damp environment.

    Some have hairs that trap air bubbles around themselves, other can use webs to close off empty shells to keep the air in. Some can go into a coma where they reduce the amount of oxygen required. Inter-tidal species can run away from incoming tides. These traits allow spiders to exploit a habitat that would otherwise be forbidden for them.

    The aquatic Dolomedes.

    It’s all very fascinating. Spiders have had to change the way they eat, avoid predators, reproduce, move, accommodate extreme temperatures, and cope with water pressure. Marlene summarises the adaptations. It’s a great read.

    However, spiders in the sea is not really what you want to think about when you are rushing into the waves, boggie-board in hand. It’s almost a Gollum moment (as the Nazgul fly over him he shouts in horror “Wraiths! Wraiths on wings!”)

    “Spiders! Spiders under water!”

    Have a great Christmas holiday at the beach!

    Adrian Paterson is a lecturer in Pest-Management and Conservation at Lincoln University. He generally likes spiders, but only when he can see them!

  • Farming and biodiversity: what’s on 0.5% of Canterbury Plains?

    Imagine the Canterbury Plains blanketed in tall trees interwoven with small hardwoods. This beautiful, unique landscape is then singed into dry grassland with the arrival of Māori. Continue to imagine European settlers introduce weedy exotics that infest the landscapes, once again modifying the region. Now, picture the current landscape – a monotonous cover of dairy farms. Which of these images would you think is best for our native and endemic species?

    Prior to humans or today? (Think from an insect’s perspective)

    The plains have been a dynamic landscape ever since humans stepped foot in our vulnerable country. They will continue to experience dramatic changes in the future with the ever growing population leading to climate change, urban expansion and agriculture intensification.

    The 1940s saw the commencement of irrigation on the plains so that farmers could have a reliable water source to enhance the production of pasture and crops. Water facilitated the development of dairying from sheep farming, into the landscape we see today. Between 2002 and 2012, the Canterbury herd increased by 115%, accounting for 13.5% of the Aotearoa dairy herd.

    These drastic landscape changes have been detrimental to many of our precious native species by creating unfavourable conditions and habitats, species such as the bellbird (Anthornis melanura) have suffered. Some species, such as paradise shelducks (Tadorna variegata), have exploded in population numbers due to the favorable wet conditions caused from irrigating.

    Within the Canterbury Plains, less than 0.5% of this area is still the original remnant forest. Canterbury has been described as the most biological deprived and most modified environment in Aotearoa due to the intensification of agriculture. However, agriculture is a big portion of the country’s economy, bringing in approximately $10.6 billion (5%) of the country’s Gross Domestic Product (GDP).

    The food and fiber sector are major employer, providing jobs to over 359,000 people. Not only does it feed New Zealanders, it is also a big player in the global food market. in order to come to terms with this environmental dilemma, farms need to incorporate more sustainable agricultural practices, to feed the world and to support biodiversity. Currently through education and awareness this is already becoming a point of discussion.

    There has been a push to introduce native vegetation into farming systems. Several studies have examined the impacts of intensive dairy farming on soil health, vegetation, and life below ground. Farmers are now starting to see the benefits of even simple things, such as planting native vegetation. Such plantings not only positively impact farms, but also our are good for our native species, from small bugs to cryptic skinks and chatty birds.

    Mike Bowie from Lincoln University, like me, grew up on a family farm, and went on to tertiary education in ecology. This brings a helpful perspective to topics around the interaction of agriculture and ecology. It led Bowie to check out the biodiversity in the Bankside dryland remnant that is surrounded by an intensive dairy farming landscape. The Bankside Scientific Reserve in a 2.6-hectare area established in 1969. Mike wanted to know how adjacent agricultural land impacts the soil composition and fauna in this reserve area.

    Aerial photograph of the Bankside Scientific Reserve with kānuka and matagouri dotted throughout. (From Bowie et al., 2015)

    In 1970, an initial vegetation survey was conducted by Molloy within the new reserve. Bowie’s survey in 2015 found that only 31% of plants that Molloy surveyed still remained and that 27 new exotic species were present. The fauna found in the remnant were different to that of the neighbouring agricultural land. Bowie discovered the presence of four native earthworm species along with six exotic species. The number of the exotic worm species decreased with distance into the reserve.

    Bowie and his fellow researchers found 112 specimens of invertebrates, including many beetles as well as a significant native species, the ground weta! Soil pH, nitrate, and phosphate levels were all lower in the reserve compared to the surrounding paddocks.

    These observations highlight the need to retain existing dryland remnants and to establish other reserves throughout the plains. A diverse landscape will support a diverse range of species. I think farmers and the community are now starting to see the value of incorporating native vegetation and agroecological principles into their system, such as mixed species pasture systems.

    We don’t all need to put three hectares away into a reserve. Even small steps, such as planting a row of diverse natives along a fence line or waterway, will make a huge difference, if many farms join in.

    One thing that is highlighted in this study is the need for continued maintenance of restoration and remnant projects. It is not a plant and leave situation (no pun was intended…). Weed and pest control should be continually applied in these areas to prevent exotic weeds and animals from becoming established and smothering and displacing the natives.

    An example of this is in practice Te Ara Kakariki group that is establishing green dots (tiny native areas) from the Southern Alps to Lake Ellesmere/Te Waihora on private properties. This increases the connectivity of native planting, further increasing the power that these small areas can make overall. Animals and invertebrates will be able to spread throughout these dots and over the region.

    Farming has transformed the landscape of the Canterbury Plains. Image from Adrian Paterson.

    Farmers are becoming more aware of sustainable principles through education from organisations such as Te Ara Kakariki, DairyNZ, Landcare trust, and councils. Through education, ecology is becoming more interwoven into their practices. It will be a trick balancing the need for feeding the world and protecting the environment. Ecology is an excellent way to find this balance in agriculture, it can be adapted to any farming system to suit their needs and desires.

    Mike wants to help bridge this gap, not only in this study, but also others that he has conducted throughout his time at Lincoln University. Mike has examined how native plantings encourage native and beneficial invertebrates on Canterbury dairy farms, plus many more. I too believe that ecology and agriculture can work together to create a more sustainable agriculture sector that can efficiently produce food and improve food security, whilst supporting the health of the soil, water and biodiversity.

    This article was prepared by Master of Science postgraduate student Sam Fitzgerald as part of her ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Further reading

    Practical guide for landowner and farmers for landcare

    Improving biodiversity – Beef + lamb

  • Small animals show us the value of old natural forests

    Hambach. You are in Germany right now, halfway between Cologne and the Belgian border. I’d like to warmly welcome you to the Hambach forest – an ancient forest that is dominated by oak and hornbeam, representing a rare forest type in modern Germany. The Hambach forest is the last remnant of a forest that ranged over wide flat plains since the end of the last ice age around 12,000 years ago. Regrettably, it has become famous for being gradually absorbed by a vast hole!

    Tree house in the Hambach forest.
    CC BY-NC 2.0 by Tim Wagner, Flickr

    The Hambach forest used to range over an area of around 5 500 ha. During the past four decades, around 90 percent has already vanished. What remains today is not a normal forest anymore – idyllic, undisturbed, and peaceful. The forest is not only threatened by further sliding into the hole. In 2018, the Hambach forest also became the stage for one of the largest major police operations, owing to another curiosity about the Hambach forest: it is inhabited by people, living in tree houses. Occupying the forest, they want to protect what is left of it and demonstrate against the further expansion of the hole. However, since the forest is privately owned by the company that sacrifices it for the hole, activists were forced out of the forest with the help of police power – before occupying it again.

    So what is the gigantic hole? It is the result of four decades of open-cast coal mining in the Hambach region. However, its further growth will eventually take an end. For the year 2038, Germany has committed itself to complete the coal phase-out, a critical step for Germany’s energy transition. Until then, coal power stations in Germany can be fuelled by coal – extracted from German coal mines (“holes”), with a spectacularly bad impact on the climate. Still, based on the coal-phase out, the remaining part of the Hambach forest can be saved.

    Hambach open-cast coal mining hole.
    CC BY-SA 2.0 by Traveling Tourist, Flickr

    Growing up close to the Hambach forest, that received international attention in the environmental and climate movement, I’ve been concerned about one question for a very long time: How can we replace an ancient forest that is destroyed for mining purposes?

    “If we are moving several villages, people, and a motorway for the open-cast coal mining, why don’t we also move the forest?” That is how people in my region would have addressed this question in the past. Believe me or not, that’s exactly what has been done. At one end of the gigantic hole, the largest artifical hill worldwide was created and recultivated with trees. It serves the region now as a recreation area, comprising an about 70km network of hiking trails. “Forest is forest. There is no difference”, people say in my region. So why be concerned?

    But is it really that easy? Are humans really able to shape a new forest within a few years as a replacement for a destroyed ancient forest, that has the same value for biodiversity and people? And will the planted trees provide an appropriate habitat for all mammals, birds, insects, spiders, herbs, lichens and other important life forms that used to inhabit the lost forest?

    In many countries around the world, there are nowadays regulations regarding compensation and restoration measures that mining and other companies have to fulfil when their activities destroy land. However, in reality, is it always possible to restore an ecosystem that has undergone complete degradation from a natural forest to a mining site, back to its original state and biodiversity value? Otherwise, it is possible to shape a new ecosystem with the same values at another site – like it was aimed with the planted artifical hill as a compensation for the destruction of the Hambach forest? Fortunately, there are ecologists who have learned the answers to these questions. Closely monitoring the process of ecosystem restoration they can tell how successful undertaken restoration efforts are for biodiversity.

    So, now that we’ve already practiced thinking in great dimensions, let’s undertake a great jump to another mined forest – we’re jumping off Germany, over Italy and the Mediterranean Sea, crossing the Arabian Peninsula and the Indian Ocean, passing Australia and are finally landing in… Auckland! Well done! We’re standing here at the Hunua Quarry site, near Papakura in South Auckland. It is part of the Hunua ranges that consist of over 20 000 ha of native forest, comprising tawa, podocarp, kaurihard beech, and taraire forest as main vegetation types.

    The Hunua Ranges.
    CC BY-NC 2.0 by Neil Hunt, Flickr

    The Hunua Quarry is managed by Winston Aggregates, New Zealand’s largest aggregates provider. As a restoration measure, in six years over 140 000 plants have been planted in this highly modified habitat after quarrying. The aim is to provide a new forest as a replacement of the forest area destroyed. Next to the restoration area, you can still recognize unrestored areas of exotic grassland that have established after quarrying, as well as undisturbed mature native forest.

    Researchers from Lincoln University (Mike Bowie and colleagues) studied the invertebrate communities at Hunua Quarry, including wetas, beetles, cockroaches, crickets, spiders, centipedes, earthworms, ants, flies, mites, moths, slugs and snails, amongst many others. Although rather small animals, invertebrates are essential for the functioning and health of ecosystems, thereby making an important contribution to biodiversity. The objective of their study was to develop a better technique for the assessment of restoration success after mining, using invertebrates as bioindicators. Bioindicators are species that react sensitively to changes in their environment so that they can be used to assess the quality of an ecosystem.

    The researchers collected invertebrates in the undisturbed mature forest, in restored areas, as well as in the unrestored exotic grassland. They compared how many and which invertebrates were living in the respective areas. Interestingly, the undisturbed mature forest, the restored areas, and the unrestored exotic grassland were characterized by very different invertebrate communities. The invertebrates found in the six-year-old restored areas were mostly still very unlike those found in the undisturbed mature forest. For instance, the researchers were able to collect eight times more cave weta in their pitfall traps in the undisturbed mature forest than in the restored areas. In addition to cave wetas, the mature forest also harboured many spiders and beetles. Hence, if the forest restoration process is successful, it is expected that more cave weta, spiders and beetles typical for mature forest will inhabit the restored sites in the next years. At the same time, fewer exotic snails, slugs and earthworms that were found to be characteristic for the unrestored exotic grasslands are expected.

    This beetle,
    Holcaspis mucronata,
    was found most abundant in the mature forest.
    CC BY 4.0 by Birgit E. Rhode, Wikimedia Commons

    The study identified several invertebrate species as bioindicators. These can be used in future studies to assess the success of forest restoration at mine or quarrying sites. The study findings have been recognized in several other invertebrate studies of different parts of the world, for example, in a global synthesis on how good forestry plantations are at providing habitats to native beetles in comparison to natural forests. In that study, restoration sites were considered as forestry plantations, being planted by humans for conservation purposes and therefore different from natural forests. Another study dealt with the effect of removing an invasive plant as a restoration measure on an Mediterranean island. It referred to the study at Hunua Quarry for the use of beetles as bioindicators to observe the effects of restoration.

    All in all, the study showed that invertebrates might tell us more about the quality of a forest than you would easily see yourself. Hence, studying invertebrates as bioindicators has great potential for making better decisions in ecosystem management and for restoration projects. I hope that research about restoration will also raise public awareness for the complexity of biodiversity and the needs for appropriate habitats. Perhaps, I will hear many people around the Hambach forest region in Germany say: “Forest is not like forest. We need to consider old natural forests as valuable habitats and save them from vanishing, not only for the sake of spiders and beetles.”

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Vivien Michel as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.

    Link to the research article:

    Bowie M, Stokvis E, Barber K, Marris J, Hodge S. 2018. Identification of potential invertebrate bioindicators of restoration trajectory at a quarry site in Hunua, Auckland, New Zealand. New Zealand Journal of Ecology 43.

    Read more:

    Donahue, Michelle Z. 2018. Is Germany’s Hambach Forest Doomed by Coal? National Geographic, April 13. https://web.archive.org/web/20190914181247/https:/www.nationalgeographic.com/news/2018/04/hambach-forest-germany-logging-coal-conservation-science/

    Coal exit will save Hambach Forest: activists. Deutsche Welle, January 27, 2019. https://www.dw.com/en/german-coal-exit-plan-will-save-hambach-forest-activists-say/a-47251256

  • Defend the buffer!

    “Hold the line! The invasives are coming!”

    “Captain, we’re losing ground! The phosphate is encroaching.”

    “Retreat to higher ground! It’s safer up there.”

    “Send in the spiders and beetles! Earthworms, you stay here.”

    “Defend the Buffer!!!” [insert battle cry]

    If the plants and insects at Bankside Scientific Reserve could talk, they would probably sound something like that. While this 2.6 ha protected area is home to important communities of native species, it is under threat of phosphate intrusion and the breaking-up of the local habitat. Humans have greatly altered the lowland Canterbury Plains of Aotearoa/New Zealand. With the recent switch to irrigated dairy farming, very few patches of undisturbed native dryland vegetation are left in the region. This change in land-use has led to a higher reliance on fertilizers as well as water for irrigation, which has come with its own set of challenges.

    Aggressive introduced weeds, pasture grasses and forbs, have also begun to dramatically alter the functioning of native plant communities. Remnant areas are both vulnerable and essential to maintaining native ecosystems (hence the need to defend the buffer). Mike Bowie and his team investigated one of these remnant areas, looking at soil chemistry, plant distribution, and soil invertebrates along transects at the Bankside Scientific Reserve. Their study identified the current conservation value of the reserve, assessed how persistence of native biodiversity changed along the pasture-reserve gradient, and evaluated the effects of the likely infringement of irrigation water and nutrients from adjacent farmland.

    The vegetation of Bankside Scientific Reserve had been studied previously by Malloy (1970), who provided a detailed catalogue of the flora, listing 66 native vascular plant species. Jenson & Shanks (2005 – unpublished DOC Report) also completed a one-day reassessment of the site, but recorded only 14 native species. Today, the vegetation at the reserve can be described as a patchwork of native woody shrubs, made up mainly of makahikatoa, matagouri, and dry grassland. As Mike and his team point out, the modified soil conditions seem to have made the reserve not as well suited for native species, and better for the invasion by exotic plants. Compared with detailed surveys prior to the dairy conversion, only 31% of the original 65 native vascular plant species were found in the current study, and 27 new exotic species had arrived since the original survey.

    As for the underground conditions, soil nutrient concentrations and pH were lower in the reserve than in the surrounding farmland, with peaks of nitrate and ammonium being recorded at the boundary. Meanwhile, soil phosphate was higher in lower-lying areas within the reserve. Four species of endemic (Megasolecidae) earthworms were found in the reserve, but not in the neighbouring pasture.

    Other cool finds included ground wētā (Hemiandrus sp.) and trap door spider (Cantuaria dendyi). A 2011 survey by Emberson et al. (2011) also found the large rare rove beetle, Hadrotes wakefieldi, and several species of long-horn beetles. As opposed to the earthworms, the diversity and abundance of beetles and spiders in the reserve was similar to that recorded at least 10 m into surrounding farmland.

    Another interesting take-away from this research, is the importance of areas of higher elevation. Although elevational differences between highest and lowest contours were <5 m in the study, the higher areas were very important in avoiding environmental change from agricultural drainage and effluents. They helped to maintain environmental conditions that were closest to the original habitat, providing the best-suited habitat for native plants and animals.

    Image created by Catherine Priemer

    The work of Mike Bowie and his team, along with previous studies, points out the significance of small remnant reserves for the conservation of indigenous invertebrates found in these rare dryland ecosystems. Their findings also suggest that lime and phosphate fertilisers may represent the main threats to dryland nature reserves in irrigated dairy landscapes. Above all, their research underlines the importance of the soil environment in sustaining the variety of plant, animal, and insect life in this unique environment.

    Taking the team’s findings into consideration, the maintenance of a buffer zone – a protected zone established around sensitive or critical areas – could be beneficial in lessening the impacts of human activity and land disturbance around remnants, such as Bankside Scientific Reserve. To do this, native species can be planted between agricultural and conservation areas, to help protect sensitive habitat. The key take-away: Defend the Buffer!

    This article was prepared by Master of International Nature Conservation student Catherine Priemer as part of the ECOL608 Research Methods in Ecology course.