A year ago, I posted on 20 years of research on anoles in the Bahamas, discussing our current projects: 1. the effects of brown anoles on the ecosystem, and how those effects are altered by the presence of the anole-eating curly-tailed lizard; 2. whether and how brown anoles will adapt to the presence of the terrestrial predators, which forces them to move up into the vegetation, where they must cavort on narrow diameter vegetation; and 3. the effects of an experimental founder effect in which we seeded each of seven islands with a pair of anoles and followed how the populations evolved for a number of years. The first two projects–as well as the methods we use–were discussed here, in one of my finest AA posts, if I do say so myself. The third project led to a paper on founder-effect evolution that appeared two months ago; you can get up to speed on that one here.

Every year we arduously return to the Bahamas to see how the population numbers have risen or fallen, to assess the state of the  ecosystem, and to examine whether the morphology and genetics of the populations have changed.  And so, we head south and east again. But the 800 pound gorilla in the boat concerns what happened last August. Hurricane Irene, which at its peak was a Category IV storm and which gained fame by wreaking havoc all the way to Vermont, scored a direct hit on our study site on Great Abaco Island (also on our newly established study in Staniel Cay, to the south).

We’ve got a history with hurricanes, and it’s not a happy one. In 1996, 1998, and 2004, ongoing studies were terminated by hurricanes. And although this experience has turned us into inadvertent hurricane experts, they wreak havoc on the primary goals of our research. Our last experiment was truncated only a year and a half after its initiation, and just when it was getting interesting. And then we had to wait four years to start the next round.

Our studies are conducted on tiny little islands (technically termed “rocks”), which are very low-lying. The storm devastation results not from the high winds, but from the storm surge, which can hit the islands with great force and entirely submerge them for up to six hours. The result often is removal of all lizards on the island, though in some cases eggs in the soil (the “egg bank”) have survived to seed the next generation.

As we arrived to the islands a few days ago, we had a ray of hope–the storm appears to have hit at low tide, and quick visits in the fall and winter indicated the existence of at least some lizards on some islands–the populations haven’t entirely been wiped out, at least not all of them. So, perhaps the experiments haven’t been destroyed. Perhaps there’s even an interesting story to be told about population bottlenecks and recovery. Or perhaps the study has been fatally compromised, tossed into the dustbin of experimental history. We should know soon. Stay tuned here, and at Chipojolab, which has already posted a few early updates.

Jonathan Losos