Charles Bell was an anatomist, physiologist, and surgeon who lived, studied, and worked in Edinburgh and in London, in the 18th and 19th centuries. He wrote and illustrated a number of texts on these subjects, and was the first person to describe the course of the facial nerve and the consequences of its injury, which results in a unilateral paralysis of the muscles of facial expression (Bell’s palsy). Since I am a bibliophile, anatomist, and neo-Luddite, and because I am restricted in my travel opportunities for the next half-year, I will regale you with images and text from the collection of the P.I. Nixon Medical Historical Library, located on our campus. I’ll start out on a positive note with a lovely book by Bell on the anatomy of expression (Essays on the Anatomy of Expression in Painting, (1806) Longman, Hurst, Rees, and Orme Publishers: Paternoster-Row, London), but later I will have to lay down some smack on Sir Charles, for his Bridgewater Treatise.

One of the essays in this book focuses on a comparison of the facial muscles in man and animals, and Bell clearly has the not-so-hidden agenda of claiming that humans possess unique muscles that allow them to display evidence of their superior intellect. The two non-human animals for which Bell has dissection diagrams in this book are dog and horse, though he also mentions dissection of sheep and cattle. First, the dog, as an example of a carnivorous animal, and Bell’s dissection diagram is shown below (Plate IV, Muscular Apparatus in Dog). There’s also some very silly stuff about lions, but I’ll save that for another post.

Here are some of Bell’s labels and descriptions for the diagram:
“A.A. Circular fibres which surround the eyelids, common to all animals.
B. C. D. Accessory muscles, which I have called SCINTILLANTES, as they draw back the eyelids upon the eyeball, and give a sparkling fierceness to the eye.
F.G.H. Muscles of the Ear. There is in all animals a wonderful provision in the numerous muscles of the ear, for its exertion and tension to receive the vibrations of sound, and for the direction of the ear.
I.K. ....I call RINGENTES, as being the cause of the peculiar and characteristic expression in the CARNIVOROUS ANIMAL.”

I managed to finish a one mile open water swim, organized to benefit cervical cancer awareness and prevention programs, in a nearby lake this morning, without having to stop, quit, choke, or otherwise disgrace myself. In a region where there is a depressingly high incidence of obesity and type 2 diabetes, it was nice to see some fit individuals of many different ages and ethnic backgrounds. One of the other swimmers was telling me about a swimming competition in the waters near Alcatraz, the famous island in San Francisco Bay, which once housed a prison, but is now a national recreation area. He mentioned that, in addition to a neoprene swim cap (or two), he wore ear plugs to minimize heat loss through the external ear canals, and to keep them from hurting in the cold water. Some swimmers in the Bay also wear a wetsuit, rather than just a swimsuit, in this type of cold water condition.

Alcatraz Island, in San Francisco Bay, with a swimmer in the foreground. Or perhaps it’s a sea lion. Or a sea lion pursuing a swimmer.

The water temperature in San Francisco Bay ranges between 53 and 62 degrees Fahrenheit (about 12-17C); in contrast, the water temperature in the lake where I swam today was, I’d guess, in the 80s (ambient temperature drops into the mid-70s at night, this time of year, and daytime temperatures are in the mid- to upper 90s, with a very high UV index). Heat loss definitely wasn’t a problem for me today, but most such competitions don’t take place in sun-drenched Hill Country lakes in August-so how do swimmers cope with cold water? Unlike most runners, cyclists, hikers, and climbers, a swimmer can’t stop to eat or drink anything that might provide some extra calories (of course some of the Channel swimmers are supplied with food or drink while swimming, but that’s exceptional). The human body will respond in a variety of ways to conserve or generate heat: shivering, vasoconstriction in the extremities, and increased respiration. Unfortunately, all of these responses make it more difficult to swim, and increase expenditure of energy that the swimmer needs to complete the race. Triathletes have the additional problem of conserving energy for two subsequent strenuous events.

The other strategy used by open water swimmers is to acclimate to cold water, and to minimize the shivering and panting responses, by repeatedly exposing oneself to the frigid stuff. This is not the answer I wanted to hear, but then I suppose it’s impossible (and unattractive) to acquire an insulating layer of blubber that would work like that of a cetacean or pinniped. A few summers ago, I visited a friend in Sweden; the late June weather was fantastic, and swimming in the waters around Stockholm and the archipelago was an alluring prospect. My friend strongly discouraged me from this, even though the locals were already enjoying the water. “They’re used to it, and you’re not”. He was right, of course, and wading near the dock while waiting for the ferry at Finnhamn convinced me of that: I found it excruciating to stay in for more than a few minutes. So perhaps it’s best to follow the advice on the triathlon websites, which includes swimming in the ocean without a wetsuit (I don’t imagine the Gulf of Mexico counts, since it’s like bathwater right now), immersing oneself in a bath of cold water three times a week (for up to 20 minutes at a stretch), and taking regular cold showers. Brrrr!

One of my earliest childhood memories is that of visiting the Como Park Zoo in St. Paul, MN, not far from where my family lived at the time. In those days, wax models of animals were one of the inexpensive souvenirs available at zoos and parks; the machine that stamped the wax into the hollow animal shapes seems rather steampunk in retrospect. I remember having several such models: a polar bear, a tiger, a sea lion, and a Galapagos tortoise. Fragile and ephemeral, those childhood souvenirs crumbled away many years ago, and to me reflect the fragmented and vanishing habitat of many endangered species.

Magnificent Frigatebird, Fregata magnificens; photo by Dr. Jim Smith

In a previous post, I began to explore the question of whether nature-based ecotourism can be sustainable, and proposed that it could be so in the Lower Rio Grande Valley, with appropriate concern for the local culture and economy, and for limited water resources. However, I’m not convinced that fragile island ecosystems, such as those characteristic of the Galapagos archipelago, can withstand the onslaught of thousands of tourists, most with typically Western demands and expectations for comfort and sustenance, each year. Moreover, concerns that apply to the Galapagos are relevant for other islands, for as David Quammen writes in his book on island biogeography, The Song of the Dodo:

”The real significance of the Galapagos is…their fundamental resemblance to other places. They are representative. They are prototypically ordinary. What made them instructive to Charles Darwin, and what makes them instructive to us, is that they are strange in precisely the same ways that other islands tend to be strange.”

The impact of tourism on the Galapagos has been assessed in a recent report by Watkins and Cruz, who point out that although visitor sites are relatively well-managed (guides, trails, fixed itineraries, limited concessions), the overall impact on a regional scale (immigration, local businesses, demand for public services, commercial flights and boats) is not. Within the last 15 years, the increase in berth capacity of tour ships and boats, and in the number of days each year that these vessels operate, has led to a 150% increase in total annual passenger-days spent in boats and ships in the archipelago. The numbers of hotels, bars, and restaurants have also increased, as has the pressure to release new tourist concessions; as tourist demands expand, so does the local population, leading to a vicious cycle of growth. As of 2000, there are over 1200 registered introduced species in the Galapagos, and 55 of the 540 introduced invertebrate species have the potential to negatively affect native biodiversity. Other problems, such as over-harvesting of sea cucumbers, lobster, and grouper, and pollution from oil spills and sewage, can be linked to tourism and economic growth. Without plans for long-term sustainable development, ecotourism in the Galapagos will likely follow the same pattern exhibited by the historic exploitation of fur seals, the whaling industry, and modern fisheries in the area: explosive growth and economic wealth, followed by an abrupt collapse.

Medium Ground-finch (I think), Geospiza fortis; photo by Dr. Jim Smith

Several of my friends have toured the Galapagos within the last few years, and all rave about the biological wonders of the archipelago. One tells me that no true biologist should die without having been to the Galapagos, and another insists that two visits, in different seasons, are necessary to appreciate the ecology fully. Another thinks that I would enjoy sketching the animals and plants in my travel journal, as much as she and her husband enjoyed taking their wonderful photographs. They all mean well, and I’m sure they’re correct…but somehow, I just can’t ignore the problems of nature-oriented tourism, however well-informed, in the Galapagos archipelago. I keep seeing that giant tortoise wax model, crumbling into unrecognizable and useless fragments.

References:

Quammen, D. (1996) The Song of the Dodo: Island Biogeography in an Age of Extinction. Touchstone: New York, NY

Watkins, G. and Cruz, F. (2007) Galapagos at Risk: A Socioeconomic Analysis of the Situation in the Archipelago. Puerto Ayora, Province of Galapagos, Ecuador, Charles Darwin Foundation.

Temporal, Zygomatic, Buccal, Marginal Mandibular, Cervical: the branches of the facial nerve, aka cranial nerve VII. I’m not fond of anatomy mnemonics, and the title example is especially egregious, because Zanzibar is an island. An archipelago with two main islands, to be exact, and certainly not accessible by motor car. With its beaches, coral reefs, and abundant marine life, Zanzibar, a part of the Republic of Tanzania, has become a popular ecotourism destination in recent years. In addition to the aquatic attractions for snorkellers and divers, there is the Jozani Forest, with Red Colobus and Syke’s monkeys, Ader’s Duiker, and several sunbird species.

Ecotourism itself is a recent concept, and I’m interested in what it means to both tourists and locals, and whether it is often, sometimes, or rarely sustainable, in both environmental and social terms. Variably defined as nature-based tourism, “responsible travel to natural areas that conserves the environment” (International Ecotourism Society), or travel to undisturbed areas to study, admire, and enjoy the scenery, with its wild plants and animals, ecotourism is not necessarily a sustainable activity. Sustainable tourism requires a concern for the social, economic, and environmental impacts of travel and other tourist activities, and for many of us, the ideal would be a combination of nature-based and sustainable tourism. Such an ideal, of course, would be sensitive to the carrying capacity of the local environment, would contribute actively to conservation of wildlife and landscapes, and would consider the well-being and cultural heritage of local communities.

Scissor-tailed Flycatcher (Tyrannus forficatus); photo by Dr. Jim Smith

Ecotourism has been on my mind lately, in part because work circumstances have forced me to settle for the dreaded “staycation” this year, and also because I need to consider some eco-friendly day trips when friends from grad school visit this fall. “Staycation” is a somewhat ridiculous term, but in practice it can be a sustainable alternative, since by definition it involves remaining close to home and appreciating one’s local surroundings. I’ll only leave the state of Texas once this year, for study section (I didn’t consider that to be a vacation!), so my choices are sulking mightily (tempting), or cobbling together short trips in the area and exploring my Hill Country environment. I have to use up vacation time (I’ve accumulated over 200 hours), so I’ve been taking the occasional half-day to swim laps at the nearby pool, which means I should be fit enough for a benefit swim in a lake just north of here. “Don’t swallow any lake water!”, cautions a physician friend, with dire warnings about Cryptosporidium.

Ecotourism, by the nature-based definition, is straightforward in South Texas, which encompasses several of the top birdwatching spots in the US; as a whole, Texas hosts over three-quarters of the bird species found in the US. The Lower Rio Grande Valley (LRGV) includes 11 different biotic communities, contained within the unique ecosystem defined as Tamaulipan brushland. There are a number of wildlife preserves and refuges in the LRGV, including the Santa Ana NWR, Laguna Atascosa NWR, Boca Chica State Park, and Sabal Palm Audubon Sanctuary. The Sabal Palm Center is one of my favorite nature areas, but unfortunately, this fragile ecosystem, like many along la frontera, is threatened by the plans for a US-Mexico Border Wall. With its accessibility, resident population, and unique ecosystems, I think the LRGV has the potential to support sustainable ecotourism ventures, but issues such as the Border Wall, and the limited water resources in the area, will have to be addressed first.

I hope to explore some other popular ecotourism destinations and the overall question of sustainable travel in upcoming posts.

This evening I attended a free talk and slide show by photographer Chris Jordan, sponsored by our local public radio station; the venue was the Municipal Auditorium, a rather funky, but charming, structure built in 1926 as a World War I memorial. He began his presentation with a personal story of his transformation from successful (and unhappy) lawyer, to artist-advocate and National Geographic EcoAmbassador. Photography was initially a hobby with aesthetic appeal only, but comments from other artists, whose work addressed issues of social and environmental justice, inspired Jordan to develop his first series, “Intolerable Beauty”. Photos of bales of refuse at the Port of Seattle, piles of discarded cell phone chargers (which cannot be recycled), and futuristic landscapes of junked computer hard drives illustrated the basic points about mass consumption in American society, but Jordan wanted to display the relevant statistics within the photo, rather than on a separate placard.

In his “Running the Numbers” series of photos, Jordan discovered a visually eloquent and effective means to help a viewer experience huge, incomprehensible quantities. By creating digital constructions from photos of manageable numbers of objects, repeatedly rearranged by scrambling or sorting, statistics could be presented directly, and with great visual impact. For example, the 1.4 million paper bags used every hour in the US are presented as stacks that resemble a forest of tree trunks. Aluminum soda cans produce a reproduction of a Seurat painting from a distance, yet are distinguishable by brand up close; Jordan reminded the audience that aluminum refining in nearby Victoria TX is responsible for much of the mercury pollution in Lavaca and Matagorda Bays. The artist used 24,000 logos from the GMC Denali, representing 6 weeks of sales of the sport utility vehicle in 2004, to create a version of the Ansel Adams photograph of the mountain for which the truck was named.

Jordan addresses issues other than mass consumption and the environment in his photos. For example, a series of panels documents the prison population in the US, using stacks of folded uniforms, and freakish rosettes of Barbie dolls illustrate the 32,000 women each month who elect to have breast augmentation surgery, for cosmetic purposes alone. Jordan has decided to expand his US-focused “Running the Numbers” series to include global consumption statistics, and he shared one of the images with us this evening. He used fossilized shark teeth to illustrate the 270,000 sharks killed each day for their dorsal and pectoral fins alone; the composite image has two ghostly sharks swimming in an eternal yin-yang, with the Mandarin characters for “water” and “silver” (which together indicate “mercury”). You can view many of images at Chris Jordan’s website, though I hope to experience the full visual impact later this month by walking through the exhibit at the Southwest School of Art and Craft#.

So not only was South Texas the landfall site for a Category 2 hurricane now, it is also a pathogen distribution hub. Yep, McAllen, Texas = Salmonella Source Central. Tomatoes were the first suspect, followed by cilantro, but, as it turns out, contaminated Capsicum annuum is the likely culprit. What’s a pico de gallo-loving gal to do? Grow her own, I guess, which is relatively easy to do here, without a lot of fuss or need for a large garden space. But if you have access to a large garden space (and lots of compost), as I do at my friends’ ranch, so much the better.

It’s peach season in the Texas Hill Country, which means lots of peeling, canning, freezing, drying, and otherwise preserving the fruit, because it’s nearly impossible to consume the peaches or give them all away before they go bad. This year I increased the efficiency and yield of the harvest by using the Peachinator (aka my Thoroughbred gelding, Zen) to pick peaches from the highest limbs of the trees. Usually these out-of-reach peaches rot, or fall and become bruised. Birds damage them, and insects finish them off; butterflies especially like the sweet juices.

The Peachinator, eco-friendly and ready to go to work

With rising oil prices and concern over global warming, it’s important to emphasize that the Peachinator Version 16hh runs entirely on eco-friendly biofuels, and produces fertilizer for the garden and pasture. This ultra-green harvester is shown here in bright chestnut with white trim, and optional suede polo saddle seat; four wheel drive is standard, but spook control, anti-buck brakes, and airbags are unavailable with this model.

The peach harvest bag, lying across the top of the saddle, was crocheted from plastic carrier bags and newspaper wrappers. I recommend that one try this fruit harvest method only with a calm horse that you know well, as it must be willing to walk up close to the trees and stand still while you pull on the branches and check the fruit. Zen is the laziest Thoroughbred in Texas, so this is an activity that he enjoys, as he doesn’t even break a sweat. I use my horses for playing and umpiring polo and polocrosse, so each is very accustomed to mallets, racquets, and ball bags being swung or hung around its neck; make sure your Fruitinator will accept the harvest bag dangling in front of the saddle, and remember that you’ll need to dismount carefully with a load of fruit.

As the squalls spun off from Tropical Storm Dolly dumped buckets of rain here periodically throughout the day, I wondered whether it would be worth discussing ways to prepare a laboratory and its personnel for the consequences and aftermath of a hurricane, or any other natural disaster.

Obviously, the top priority is the safety of the people in your family and in your lab. Most scientists, especially at the faculty level, have the transportation and financial ability to leave the area under threat, and stay in a hotel, or with friends/relatives. However, some of the students, postdocs, or visiting scientists in the lab, particularly if they are from countries or regions not subject to hurricanes, may not be aware of the danger, or may not have the means to evacuate the city. I would want to make sure that such individuals had transportation out of the city, or at the very least had safe shelter and were prepared to ride out the storm, if they insisted on staying. As an aside, when I lived in New Orleans, I chose to stay in my house during a major hurricane, and it was without question the stupidest thing I’ve ever done in my life. If it had been Katrina, I probably wouldn’t be typing this now, because I lived in ground zero for levee FAIL. When colleagues and friends in other cities are under hurricane threat, and may need to evacuate, give them a call and offer a place to stay, especially if you live along an evacuation route where motels and hotels are likely to fill up quickly.

Backing up the data in your lab is a no-brainer, and should be done routinely in any case, hurricane season or no. There are so many options now (external hard drives, flash drives, iDisk, etc. etc.) one really has almost no excuse for losing data that can be stored electronically.

If the university or research institute loses power for a prolonged period, it’s likely that some freezers and incubators will fail. Unfortunately, primary cultures of neurons and the like will be lost if this happens. Make sure you’ve got plenty of liquid nitrogen for storage of tumor cell lines and other reagents, in case no one can enter the lab for a few days. I also try to farm out vials of valuable or unique tumor cell lines and antibodies to colleagues in other parts of the US, as a potential back-up.

Which brings me to lab animals – no scientist wants to think about this, but the worst case scenario has happened at least twice recently, with Tropical Storm Allison in Houston (2001), and with Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans (2005). I think your best protection, especially for transgenic mice crucial to your research, is to make sure that colleagues in another part of the country keep some of your lines in their colonies. Replacement animals will have to be quarantined upon return to your institution, but it’s still quicker to get up and running with colony expansion and experiments, than if you had to start with cryopreserved embryos. Circumstances other than hurricanes may lead to loss of a particular strain: husbandry mishaps, infectious diseases, environmental control failure, etc.

What are some of the natural disasters that others here at NN have had to cope with, in the context of the laboratory?

*”Preparedness” is a silly word, but it’s the one commonly used, especially by the likes of those who believe “You’re doin’ a heckuva job, Brownie”.

With apologies to Lyle Lovett. I suppose I should say “Howdy”, rather than “Hello”, since I really am from Texas, in the sense that I have lived here most of my life. I’ve lived in three of the major Texas cities – Houston, Dallas, and San Antonio – and I’m currently on the faculty at a health science center in the latter of those three. I was trained as a developmental neurobiologist, but have since morphed into a cancer biologist, if publications are any indication. I spend most of my professional time teaching anatomical sciences (gross anatomy, embryology, and neuroscience) to medical and dental students, and was very pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoy that part of my job.

To be honest, I haven’t branched very far from my roots in developmental neurobiology, as most of my recent research involves mouse models for an inherited cancer syndrome, neurofibromatosis type 1, which primarily affects cells derived from the neural crest. I still do a lot of primary neuronal and Schwann cell culture work, with an emphasis on assays for apoptosis, DNA damage, and DNA repair. Because my teaching responsibilities are intense and extremely time-consuming, I’m very happy to collaborate with colleagues on projects involving my transgenic mice and Schwann cell tumor lines.

My blog here at NN will focus on environmental issues and natural history on the Third Coast, which, in spite of what people from the Great Lakes region may tell you, actually refers to the Gulf Coast of the United States. Since I live and work near the Border, I’ll include Mexico as part of the Third Coast, and there are some important environmental and wildlife issues that affect both Texas and Mexico (one such issue made landfall at Brownsville and Matamoros earlier today). I hope to post a few interviews with friends here in the Hill Country who are involved with environmental issues in the region, and who are reviving native habitat for threatened species, such as the Black-capped Vireo and Golden-cheeked Warbler. And I’ll probably throw in a few posts on developments in cancer and DNA damage/repair research, as well as a bit of lab and academic science “culture”.

I’m fixin’ to go start this blog now….