Halibut trails
Computer tags help scientists track fish


By Doug O'harra
Anchorage Daily News

(Published: March 24, 2002)

For five months, the feisty 60-pound Pacific halibut with the nickname Lip roamed the Gulf of Alaska, its movements monitored by a tiny computer tag anchored below its dorsal fin.

In a project that could revolutionize the study of ocean use by important Alaska species like halibut and salmon, the fish was among half a dozen big flatfish successfully tracked from Resurrection Bay over the past 18 months during a test of new miniature technology.

On its travels to and from deep water, this halibut sniffed at the surface and plunged as deep as 1,600 feet. When it traveled farther offshore, it spent whole days swimming hundreds of feet up and down in the water column, followed by days of steady cruising, often about 1,000 feet down.

Then, out in the abyss, it found what passes for halibut bliss.

In what could be the first glimpse of mating by the species, the fish shot straight for the surface on nine occasions, rising 300 to 570 feet in minutes before plunging just as fast to its previous depth.

While no one knows for sure what the halibut was doing, observations of breeding flatfish in the Atlantic Ocean suggest that the fish probably soared in unison with another consenting piscivore, according to biologists from the U.S. Geological Survey in Anchorage.

"It's like a dance," explained Jennifer Nielsen, supervisor of fisheries research for the USGS's local biological resource division. "As a pair, they do like a spiral ascent. It's part of its breeding behavior. Nobody is quite sure why they do it."

"Everyone has known for a long time that (Pacific halibut) go off the shelf in the winter to breed," added Derek Wilson, a fisheries biologist working with Nielsen on the project. "But individual breeding behavior has never been documented before."

The halibut study illustrates how miniature tracking technology and tiny computers have changed field research forever, enabling scientists to gather detailed information about where wild animals go and what they do in environments beyond normal human scrutiny. By attaching the devices to fish, especially salmon, scientists can begin to answer fundamental questions about habitat use in the deep sea, Nielsen said.

"I've been a salmon biologist for 25 years, and one of the biggest questions for the whole 25 years has been the ocean," Nielsen said. "It's been a big black box. It's a big unknown. . . . Now the technology has opened the opportunity to begin to ask -- at the same level that we look at rivers -- what's the ocean use by salmon?"

Funded with a $77,000 grant from the Exxon Valdez Oil Spill Trustee Council, the halibut project was aimed at testing 14 tiny pop-up satellite tracking tags as a way to identify critical marine habitat for any Alaska fish. Though previously tried on tuna and marlin, the technology had never been used this far north, Nielsen said.

As designed by Seattle-based Wildlife Computers, the 2-inch-long, bobber-shaped devices trailed behind the halibut on a tungsten wire, constantly recording water pressure, temperature and ambient light as the fish swam. Unless recovered first by a fisherman, the device corrodes the wire at a programmed time, floats to the surface and transmits its data to a satellite.

By registering the time of each day's sunrise and sunset, the tags could enable scientists to indirectly calculate the approximate latitude and longitude of fish -- something not possible with conventional global positioning system satellites. A poster describing preliminary results was published this winter by Nielsen, Wilson, Andy Seitz and Sage Pelot.

But the halibut study is only the beginning. Additional satellite tags will go on halibut this next season in the Gulf and Bering Sea. In separate projects using nonsatellite tags that store data in memory or give off beeps underwater, Nielsen and co-researchers Wilson, Phil Richards and Chris Zimmerman plan to start tracking coho salmon smolts from Ship Creek, as well as steelhead from the Ninilchik River and Deep Creek on the Kenai Peninsula.

"It was always a little weird to me (that scientists) consider salmon a freshwater fish when they spend two-thirds of their time in the ocean," Nielsen said. "There's a gap. . . . And that's what we're trying to get at -- knowing where they go and why."

Working with Capt. Harold Salve of the fishing vessel Rocinante, Nielsen's team caught the first 11 halibut during two trips off Bear Glacier near the mouth of Resurrection Bay in August 2000. Among the fish was a 50-inch 60-pounder with a torn lip. It soon joined six other survivors at the Alaska SeaLife Center for months of observation.

That fish, named Lip, initially didn't want to eat, said research associate Pam Parker, one of the people who monitored the project at the center. But as its wound healed, it began to feed with enthusiasm.

"It was superaggressive," she said. "It was just an interesting fish."

All of the flatfish adapted fast to captive life and became popular with tourists. They would sleep in a pile on the sandy bottom of the 10-foot-deep tank. When the tank was drained for veterinarian checks, the fish would calmly swim in a foot of water while the vet walked among them, Parker said. The fish even ogled their human keepers.

"They were really curious," Parker said. "The minute we would approach the tank, they would start swimming with their heads out of the water. They would watch us."

More important, when the tags were surgically anchored, the animals recovered fast and ignored one another's tags.

"The bottom line was that within a week, they were all behaving normally and there were no critical problems with the tags, and that's what we needed to see," Nielsen said.

Over the next year, 14 halibut were equipped with the tags and released off Resurrection Bay. In the end, seven tags succeeded in delivering data to the scientists. (A programming error by the manufacturer set four of the tags to release 41 years in the future, and three tags simply did not respond.)

Two halibut, including the one called Lip, were caught by commercial fishermen, allowing Nielsen to recover all of the data recorded in their tags. The other five tags released on schedule last Nov. 15 and transmitted data to the satellite.

Two halibut had stayed near the Kenai Fjords coast -- one swimming only a few miles away and the other moving southwest toward the mouth of Cook Inlet. But three halibut swam much farther out. One had traveled about 120 miles out toward Middleton Island. The other two were in the Gulf south of the Bering Glacier, more than 200 miles from Resurrection Bay.

Doug O'Harra can be reached at do'harra@adn.com and 907 257-4334.

ON THE WEB:

For details on tracking halibut with pop-tags: www.absc.usgs.gov/research/Fisheries/Halibut/popup_tags.htm

For details on tracking Ship Creek coho salmon: www.absc.usgs.gov/research/Fisheries/archival_tagging/coho_archivetags.htm

For other fisheries projects by USGS in Anchorage: www.absc.usgs.gov/research/Fisheries/fish_proj.htm

For an overview of the Alaska Biological Science Center of the USGS: www.absc.usgs.gov/

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Last Updated: Wednesday, April 10, 2002