Made with FlowPaper - Flipbook Maker
< PreviousCoasting into the future FIELDTRIP Contributors: Cally Martin, Sue Raverty and Rob Saunders A group of Bayside Friends volunteers attended a field trip titled Coasting into the Future, hosted by Geography Victoria on Saturday 2 March. Ophiomorpha at Red Bluff. Ophiomorpha are trace fossils (Ichnofossils), the horizontal feeding structures of marine crustaceans. The nodules on the outside are their fecal pellets which provide support for the burrow. Photograph by Sue Raverty. Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202410Hoodoos at Red Bluff. Hoodoos are towers with weird shapes caused by rainfall eroding soft sandstone under a harder rocky capping. Photograph by Rob Saunders. We were taken on a journey into the past, led by geologist Dr James Driscoll from Monash University and coastal geomorphologist Rob Gell from the Royal Society of Victoria. The day started at the Beaumaris Sea Scouts shed where we examined two different layers of rock in the cliff face and discussed in detail the Gellibrand Marl, the lower darker rock exposedatsea level in Beaumaris Bay and the softer and more recent Sandringham Sandstone evident at RedBluff. The explanation of the composition and erosion of the rocks and cliff face was easy to understand and very informative. We also heard about, and discussed, adaptation and mitigation strategies that can be considered to protect bayside communities from sea level rise associated with climate change. Some of the fascinating details that many people would walk right past without noticing include ‘trace fossils’ – the fossilised evidence of the ways of life of sea creatures from millions of years ago – and the range of different layers in the sedimentary rock. Sediment layers were fascinating in what they revealed about the origins and alterations of their constituent materials. For example, there is a very clear demarcation between the older marine sediments which contain the trace fossils, and non-marine quartz- based materials that were probably transported tens of kilometres by ancestral rivers. Around midday, we set off for the Love Street car park in Sandringham, where we ate our packed lunches sitting near Bunjil’s Eggs and concluded with cakes and coffee supplied by GeographyVictoria. After lunch, it was down the steep ramp to the beach we went, ready to explore the geology of Red Bluff. This involved a fair bit of climbing but even the oldest of us managed to scramble our way down and up again without incident. What an amazing place Red Bluff is and even more amazing when experts point out all the geological features. Lastly, we looked at the built structures around Half Moon Bay: the basalt stone sea wall, the loose bank of mainly bluestone blocks on the other side of the car park and the groynes on Edward Street beach, and discussed the effects they have on the erosion of thebeaches. Dr James Driscoll giving an overview of the cliff at Beaumaris. Photograph by Cally Martin. Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202411Regeneration from 2022 Long Hollow Heathland ecological burn Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202412Aotus, Amperea and other species liberated from the bracken Story and photographs by Rob Saunders Convenor, Long Hollow Heathland It has been fascinating to watch the regenerating vegetation in the northern end of Long Hollow Heathland Sanctuary following the April 2022 ecological burn. As long ago as 1996, botanist Simon Cropper identified this area as having potential for increased species diversityfollowing a burn. Like much of Long Hollow, it had been weedy and depauperate for many years, dominated by Coast Tea-tree (Leptospermum laevigatum). However, an understorey that includedSandhillSword- sedge (Lepidosperma concavum) suggestedmuch greater previous speciesrichness. As often occurs, the first two years after the 2022 burn saw a lot of weeds regenerate. Coast Wattle (Acacialongifolia ssp. sophorae) and Panic Veldt Grass (Ehrharta erecta) were particularly prevalent; the Citywide crew led by Will McGowan tackled them diligently. Indigenous plants that came back quickly included the predictable ‘Fireweeds’ (severalindigenous Senecio species) and the fast-growing pioneer shrub Kangaroo Apple (Solanumaviculare). We now seem to be entering a new phase in the regeneration, with many young trees emerging as the pioneer species fade away. > Before the ecological burn with Bracken dominating Long Hollow Heathland Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202413Red Gum (Eucalyptus camaldulensis) and Black Wattle (Acacia mearnsii) look to be the most frequent trees, but there are also seedlings of Cherry Ballart (Exocarpos cupressiformis), which is almost impossible to cultivate in a nursery. While the Kangaroo Apples have fruited prolifically this season, many are now dying off, revealing an understorey of wildflowers, small shrubs and Austral Bracken (Pteridium esculentum). The February working bee at Long Hollow Heathland concentrated on carefully reducing the amount of Bracken in the burn site, in an effort to liberate some of the small indigenous plants developing beneath it. While Bracken is indigenous and can help protect small plants from summer heat when it is young and not too dense, mature thickets of Bracken that retain previous years’ thatch can shade out other plants and severely reduce an area’s species diversity. It also tends to hide the inevitable weeds that blow in or have yet to germinate after the fire. Plants liberated at the February working bee included one new species record for Long Hollow, Slender Platysace (Platysace heterophylla). In the 1988 Bayside flora survey by Jim Willis and Daintry Fletcher, SlenderPlatysacewas recorded from Bay Road Heathland, Sandringham GolfLinks and RoyalMelbourneGolfClub, but notfromLong Hollow. The northern end of Long Hollow Heathland has clearly had its vegetationbiodiversity enhanced because of the burn. It is also pleasing to see several species-rich patches, with four or more indigenous species per square metre in some areas. Broom Spurge (Amperea xiphoclada) is well established throughout the burn site, and a wide range of other perennial species can beseen. The photos included in this feature give an indication of the quality of the regeneration, and illustrate some of the species now established. Corn Parsley (Platysace heterophylla) Dwarf Wire-Lily (Laxmannia orientalis) Margaret tackling the Bracken Two Hibbertias, Bossiaea and Aotus regenerated within one square metre. Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202414Large Bindweed A new plant record for Bayside Story and photographs by John Eichler Large Bindweed ( Calystegia sepium ) is a widespread plant in Victoria, which can be found on the fringes of wetlands and along watercourses. It is a vigorous twiner that frequently scrambles over surrounding vegetation. The pink and white flowers are produced in late spring and summer. Sterile plants were initially found in early May 2023 in an area of seepage near the Bayside foreshore, where they were growing with other wetland plants including Bare Twig- rush (Machaerinajuncea). The plants died back completely over winter and resprouted in spring. Flowers eventually appeared in mid- December 2023, allowing the identity of the plant to be confirmed. Given the showy nature of the flowers, it is surprising this plant has not beenrecorded for Baysidepreviously. This species is not included in a number of publications including C S Sutton's 1911 and 1912 papers on the Sandringham flora, the 1989 Sandringham Environment Series, List of Local Native Plants by J H Willis, the current (2014) edition of the Flora of Melbourne, or online in the Australian Virtual Herbarium. Large Bindweed is a possible contender for propagation at the Bayside Community Nursery and could be planted in suitable habitat, such as the margin of the Tulip Street Pond. John Eichler. Photograph by Pauline Reynolds Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202415S n o r k e ll i n g s u m m e r Words and photos by Christopher Forbes Snorkel Leader, Marine Care Ricketts Point, Port Phillip Bay Around the bay each summer, snorkel activities are announced on a week-by-week basis, considering locations that are chosen depending on marine conditions, winds, water quality and temperature. Fiddler Ray Beach briefings, safety talks Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202416S n o r k e ll i n g s u m m e r Many varied fish, marine life, sea grasses and kelp are easily viewed with good visibility in approximately one- to three-metre-deep water. Common sightings include Zebra fish, Dusky Morwongs, Snapper, Old Wives, Rock Flathead, Smooth Rays, Fiddler Rays and Port Jackson sharks. Over the summer, our group observes changes in the marine environment and monitors invasive species, diseases and pollution. An annual Fish Count is conducted with the count data recorded and relayed to Parks Victoria for collating. Other marine care groups collect data from many locations around Victoria. Safety for all participants is paramount, with beach briefings prior to each snorkel. ‘Buddy’ snorkelling is practiced, with sign on and off records taken. First aid kits and defibrillators are always at hand on the beach, and a diving flag and rescue floats are towed with the group. Leaders are required to be first aid and CPR trained. Marine Care Ricketts Point membership is required to gain access to these special snorkel events. Additional events during the winter season include guest speaker nights, which are informative social gatherings held in Bayside. MCRP also participates in monthly beach patrol clean ups for litter removal and recording, in various Bayside locations. For more information, to join our group and access special events find us on Facebook or visit us at https://marinecare.org.au Snorkel begins, McGregor Rocks Beach briefing, McGregor Rocks Chris Forbes Jellyfish Rock Flathead Leather Jacket Dusky Morwong – Teahouse reef Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202417Saving the Pupfish Under a White Sky : book discussion By Matthew Grover By all accounts, North America’s Mojave Desert is a place of fierce existence, where an austere beauty blends with scorching heat to present a landscape that is both intensely hostile and agreeably serene. Inhis book Arctic Dreams, celebrated nature writer Barry Lopez observes the tendency for people to wrongly assess desert landscapes as ‘primitive’; to see them as lesser due to an absence in the abundance and diversity of life that typifies more familiar temperate and tropical domains. He continues, asserting that “nowhere is the land empty or underdeveloped”; thatwe must challenge ourselves when we “address the land”, and only then we will bear witness to its “subtle grace” and see that it is “vigorous and alive”. There is not a more perfect example of this in the Mojave than the surreptitious existence of the Devil’s Hole Pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis). An oddity of life that is more pleasing simply to observe than to analyse; the entire earthly population of this pupfish is confined to a single pool situated in a remote cavern in the Ash Meadows Wildlife Refuge, Nevada. Thus,this tiny blue fish holds anastounding accolade: the smallest known geographical range for a vertebrate species. Man’s first encounter with the Devil’s Hole was in 1849 when William Lewis Manly chanced upon the cave whilst journeying from Salt Lake City to the Californian gold fields. Delighted by the caverns’ geomorphological bounty (water and shade), Manly and his travelling party were completely unaware of the ecological riches it housed. Its unusual sapphire gems wholly alive, possessing gills and fins with which to tuck themselves away, attracting little attention from the transitory swimmers. The pool is roughly 18 metres long by 2.5 metres wide, is geothermally heated to a constant 34°C, and the water is extremely oxygen poor. It is topped up not by rainfall but via its connection to the aquifer below as its murky waters descend over 150m down into the dark. The adaptation of the pupfish to survive in these harsh conditions is remarkable. Rarely venturing below 20m deep, the minnows resourcefully utilise a sloping limestone shelf one foot below the surface, a perfect spot to feed and to spawn. Cyprinodon diabolis thrives through a pure and intense symbiosis of species and environment, and is truly one of a kind. At least, that is whatIwould say were it not for a technicality, because there is an identical (albeit manmade) pool of pupfish just a few miles down the road. I first learnt of the pupfish’s tale in Elizabeth Kolbert’s 2021 book, Under a White Sky. Author of the captivating Pulitzer Prize winning book, The Sixth Extinction: An Unnatural History, Kolbert describes her latest work as “a book about people trying to solve problems created by people trying to solve problems”. Anyone familiarwithThe Sixth Extinction will understand the former ‘problem’ she is referring to here is the current anthropogenic climate and biodiversity crisis. How are people trying to solve this problem? By an emerging field of technologies known as geoengineering. The imitation Devil’s Hole was built to support a secondary population of pupfish as numbers in the wild dwindled to just 35 inside the spring of 2013. Aworld-class, high-tech and high-security facility, Kolbert likened its insides to that of a nuclear power plant, noting that it was “about as scenic as a factory floor”. Nonetheless, the replica pool’s likeness to the genuine article is astounding. Onlyseven metres deep, the pool is equipped with a laser imaged replica of the shallow limestone shelf and a ceiling that opens and closes according to the season. Temperature and pH levels are exactly matched and all the pupfishes’ other home comforts (snails, crustaceans, beetles and algae) are imported to complete the ecosystem. This example is, in a nutshell, what Kolbert wants us to understand as geoengineering, a technological solution to an ecological problem. Devil’s Hole Pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis). Photograph by Olin Feuerbacher, Flickr Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202418Engineering our new home Under a White Sky is broadly divided into three parts. Kolbert uses the opening two-thirds to present a compelling present-day synopsis of geoengineering initiatives being implemented on local and regional scales across the globe. The outcome of this opening is twofold: primarily these anecdotes serve to enlighten the reader in regard to brilliant and unusual ecological action that may be unknown to them; secondarily they help to prime the reader’s brain for considering how humanity continues to bend the landscape to their will, in ways of ever-increasing intricacy and scale. This escalating scale comes to the fore in the final third of the book, where a more futurist examination of geoengineering (the technology, its feasibility and its value) is undertaken, specifically of climate engineering as a response to global warming. Relatively small schemes of carbon dioxide removal are already in operation in places like Iceland – these involve CO 2 either being drawn down from the atmosphere or captured directly from power plants and injected underground where it slowly turns into stone. Far moretheoretical(andfrankly, disconcerting) strategies that Kolbert explores pertain to solar radiation management. This includes using salt crystals to increase the reflectivity of clouds, or even injecting aerosols (sulphates) directly into the stratosphere, essentially cooling the earth through a man-made volcanic winter, a likely side effect of which is “whiter skies”. Facing the prospect of potentially catastrophic change to the earth’s natural systems which can feel so frighteningly inaccessible to the individual, Kolbert reminds us that “one way to make sense of the biodiversity crisis would simply be to accept it”. Whilst unequivocally not a reflection of her personal philosophy, the statement advances a provocative contrast with the philosophy of climate engineering’s most ardent supporters. Technological schemes of global climate manipulation fundamentally sit on the absolute opposite end of the just ‘acceptit’ spectrum, representing a ‘kitchen sink’ application of human ingenuity that boldly hopes to be the planet’s saviour. Theimpression I get is that these people believe in a fundamental technological progression of the human race; they believe in an innate ability to innovate and adapt that will forever authorise us to manifest our destiny as we see fit. In their eyes, our power is such that we not only have the right to play God, but we have the obligation to do so. And an obligation to get good at doing so, before it’s too late. To suppose it possible to engineer a solution to a climate crisis so absolutely caused by human technology, I assume one must be either stubbornly arrogant or wilfully naïve. But perhaps they are neither, perhaps one day they will simply be right. The reality is that technology like this is still extremely far down the track and Kolbert does not shy away from highlighting the multifaceted issues (technological, political, economic) that climate engineering ideas currently face. This is before mentioning the other critical concern, that the investment of time and money into the more outlandish propositions only serves to derail emissions reduction and renewable energy initiatives at the most crucial moment. I tend to agree. To me, the hope of a future silver bullet solution is wishful at best, even if we can temper the climate, control it with technology, or maybe we even begin a colony on Mars… is that really the best outcome? I wonder about what is being lost by going down this path, the innocence ofthe earth’swilderness, its natural beauty, and the historic connections of peopletoplace. Thesearesentimentsthat the Devil’s Hole replicacould never dream of recreating, esoteric and intangible valuesthat are no less important thanthe underlying ecology. In good faith Too often we are tempted into believing that such extremely complex questions could possibly have simple answers; our desire to form an opinion and to hold it with conviction can be overwhelming. To know fully how this climate crisis will play out, how it will challenge humanity, is obviously impossible. All I hope is that the people dedicating their lives to climate engineering research are doing so in good faith, that they truly believe in the need for their work, and thus if it ever is required it can be executed adroitly. Lastly, I think when it comes to helping the environment, just about any action is better than none. As much as I am moved by the romantic aspiration of a pure return to ecologies of the past, I suspect in many places, that ship has sailed. What we can do for certain is foster a knowledge and respect for our ecological history, be pragmatic in our use of technology topreserve what we have, and otherwise hope to build a new and better future. Devil’s Hole Pupfish (Cyprinodon diabolis). Photograph by Olin Feuerbacher, Flickr Mohave Desert. Photograph: Shutterstock Banksia Bulletin | Autumn 202419Next >