Spotting the Spotted Turtle
On the morning of April 13, 2001, six OARA members departed Ottawa for an undisclosed location in southwestern Ontario. They were Andrew Mott, Brian Oehring, Jeremy Pallas, Marc St. Pierre, Florence Lehmann and myself, crammed with our gear into a rented minivan for a long road trip. Once there, we would join Steve Marks, Mike Elioff, Dave Smith, Stewart Stick and Drew and Killian Hamilton to search for the Spotted Turtle (Clemmys guttata). We were participants in a scientific study (under permit) to see whether this species was found at the site in question. While a substantial number of turtles had been present a quarter century ago, more recent surveys had found few, if any. Last year, the first year of our survey, only two turtles had been found: an old female last spring and a male in June. We didn’t know if a viable breeding colony was present — the male was found a kilometre from the female’s site — but we were nonetheless hopeful.
Steve, who was organizing this survey, now in its second year, has been very careful not to mention publicly where this location is, and has been screening the people who were able to attend. And for good reason. Spotted Turtles, like other members of the genus Clemmys, are cute and interesting turtles with personality, and would make great pets if their conservation status wasn’t a problem. They are listed as a species of special concern by COSEWIC and are protected by the Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources. They are also protected over most of their range. Even so, with the wholesale price in the United States for a Spotted Turtle being around $150, poaching is a concern. It’s happened in Ontario. And Steve, knowing that this was a very sensitive population, is taking no chances.
As for the weekend in question, we weren’t sure whether the weather would cooperate. Certainly the forecast wasn’t promising: cloudy skies and lots of rain throughout the weekend, high winds on Friday, and even snow on Saturday morning. If that forecast was borne out, I feared that we might not see any reptiles at all that weekend. “Oh well,” I thought to myself. “At least we might get a chance to monitor some amphibians.” I was not optimistic; my only hope was that given such crummy conditions, even a brief patch of sun would bring everything out to bask. So I was hoping for just a bit of sun. But, as it turned out, the weather was more than good to us. The weekend was cold, with overnight temperatures near freezing, and there was often high cloud cover. But it didn’t rain at all, and the afternoons were sunny enough, and warm enough, that the reptiles became active. We saw a lot of them; I myself saw or heard nine species of reptile or amphibian on Saturday, and I didn’t see them all!
The trip to the site was long, and delayed somewhat by a short and pleasant side trip we took just after lunch. As we neared Peterborough, we noticed that the Indian River Reptile Zoo was open. Suddenly our keenness to arrive at the survey site on time evaporated, and we spent ninety minutes mucking around the zoo. I personally hadn’t been there since the previous June, and had lots of fun taking pictures of some of my favourite rattlesnakes. The zoo also had a display of Spotted Turtles, which was useful for those of us who had never seen one before.
By 7:00 pm we had arrived at the site, and Steve, who was beginning to wonder where the hell we were, told us what they had seen that afternoon: several Northern Ribbon Snakes (Thamnophis sauritus septentrionalis) and a whole bunch of Eastern Garter Snakes (Thamnophis sirtalis sirtalis), some of which were mating (Stewart caught some of that on video). They also saw, but could not catch, a Spotted Turtle; they suspected that it was the same female they caught the year before.
We had enough time to set up our campsite, which was made easier by the presence of yurts — heated, permanent tents with bunk beds — which obviated the need for our tents and sleeping pads. (Too bad we hadn’t known for sure in advance, because the minivan was very crowded, and we could well have afforded to leave some equipment behind.) We fired up our stoves and swapped stories back and forth, talking late into the night. If you took a few steps away from our campfire conversations, you could hear distant choruses of an awful lot of Spring Peepers (Pseudacris crucifer).
It was a slow start the next morning. We donned our waders (those of us who had them) and split into two groups: Andrew, Florence and I joined Dave, and later Stewart and Mike, to survey one set of ponds and bogs, while the rest went off with Steve, the Hamiltons, Nora Toth from the MNR and her family. Even though we began at Fen Number One, where the Spotted Turtle and lots of garters were seen the day before, we couldn’t find anything — it was just too cold in the morning. For the first couple of hours all our group had to show for our efforts was a few decomposed Northern Leopard Frogs (Rana pipiens) found floating in the temporary pools. Winter kill, no doubt. A bit more interesting was the skeleton of a Common Snapping Turtle (Chelydra serpentina) that Dave found at the bottom of a deeper pond: nothing left but algae-covered bones, and the turtle was of a size that it could only have died during winter; no predator could have taken out a turtle that big. But then, at around 11:40 am, Florence found a female snapping turtle, with a carapace about 22 cm long. Because of the cold — the air temperature was around 5-6°C at that point, and the water was colder than that — she didn’t put up much of a fuss.
At midday we stopped for a quick nibble. It was beginning to warm up and the sun’s position had risen to the point where basking turtles could make use of it, and we began to spot basking Midland Painted Turtles (Chrysemys picta marginata) at several ponds. While I wasted time trying to photograph some egg masses and other indeterminate fuzzy clouds in the water, Dave and Florence slowly approached a basking Painted Turtle that Mike had spotted; it was still cold enough that Dave was able to catch it and bring it back to the boardwalk for us to have a look and take some pictures.
It continued to get warmer and we began seeing more and more animals. At our next site, a largeish bog, Dave turned a log on a dry patch to find a Northern Ribbon Snake underneath. It was a male, about 40 cm long, and brownish in colour. Because of the iron in the soil, many of the herps in the area — including the Spotted Turtles — had a lot of red in their skin, but this snake wasn’t nearly as red as some of the ribbons the others had reported seeing. In any event, it was the first sauritus I had seen (ribbon snakes in the pet trade are invariably Western Ribbon Snakes, Thamnophis proximus). Usually ribbon snakes are quite difficult to handle; I have one at home that actually spins in your hands when you try to handle it, in a manner reminiscent of a crocodile’s death roll. When it does that, I worry that it will snap in half. This one, though, was, like the snapper, too cold to protest at being handled.
Shortly thereafter Dave began catching Leopard Frogs. There were a lot of them, and none that he caught were very big — maybe 4-5 cm SVL. We were starting to be envious of Dave’s ability to find herps. He was awfully good at it. Steve explained it later: Mucking around ponds in chest waders is clumsy work that creates a lot of noise and wake. The turtles hear us coming a mile away and get clear of us. But Dave — he moved slowly and was very patient. And he got results. He caught two more painted turtles before Steve started hollering for us to come back to the campsite for a late (around 3:00 PM) lunch.
At lunch we compared notes with the other troop. They had much less luck with turtles than we did, but they reported seeing red efts (the terrestrial phase of the Eastern Newt, Notophthalmus viridiscens), a Red-backed Salamander (Plethodon cinereus) and a Spotted Salamander (Ambystoma maculatum). Jeremy later reported seeing a large tadpole that could only have been a Bullfrog (Rana catesbeiana) in its second year as a tadpole.
They also captured an adult male Eastern Garter Snake for Nora, who was conducting interviews the following day and wanted to test job applicants’ ability to give a demonstration with a snake. We played around with him a bit during lunch. By this point the day was growing quite warm, and more snakes started emerging. A female garter snake was found near the campsite, and musked us through the copulatory plug that a randy male had left in her vent recently. We also examined a juvenile garter, born the previous summer; we were glad to see it had survived hibernation. Other than musking, none of them were aggressive, although the male apparently bit Steve upon capture.
The afternoon shift was shorter and yielded fewer but more interesting results. We redivided our teams: Jeremy, Brian and Marc joined Dave, Florence and me and we went back to Cranberry Bog to have another look. We started at the last pool we surveyed before lunch and worked our way back. By this point (around 5:00 p.m.) individual Spring Peepers began to call, at least one of which was close by, which was pretty neat. But it was beginning to cool a bit. There was less sun and it drizzled briefly, and the pond wasn’t offering much. As bleating Canada geese (Branta canadensis) dropped in on the pond, master herp-finder Dave found more winter kill: another decomposing Leopard Frog and a very large and still mostly intact snapping turtle (its eyes were missing); the water had likely only recently thawed and was still quite cold.
We then tried out a nearby open cove to see if anything was there in the pools by the lake. Unfortunately the pools were populated by several very large and aggressive carp (Cyprinus carpio), which would have long since annihilated any resident amphibians. We were hopeful for snakes, but didn’t see any. But as we left, we found a Red-backed Salamander under a board — the first I had seen.
Moving back to the original bog, Dave quickly found the Ribbon Snake we had found that morning under the same log. Nearby, he also found a male Brown Snake (Storeria dekayi). For the Ottawa herpers this was something of a treat, since Brown Snakes have not (yet) been found in eastern Ontario; it was the first one they had seen. Brown Snakes are natricines, and they are closely related to Red-bellied Snakes (Storeria occipitomaculata). They’re about as small as Red-bellied Snakes, too: this one was around 20 cm long, and probably an adult. Brown Snakes feed on slugs and earthworms (whereas Red-bellied Snakes eat just slugs), and while they may musk you when handled, they are generally quite gentle.
At that point we had pretty much herped out our location, and we decided to head back to the camp, where the other team had a surprise waiting for us. They had caught a Spotted Turtle! It was the same female they had seen on Friday, and the same one they had caught the year before. They had found her back at Fen Number One, where we started that morning. She was spectacular, very red throughout, and had some interesting old scars along her carapace. As Steve held her and took her measurements, we circled around her with our cameras, snapping pictures like mad. Those of us using film went through an entire roll! She was, after all, a very pretty turtle.
Once the day’s herping was done, Steve and Mike began to consider what might be a more effective strategy. Since Spotted Turtles are cold-adapted animals that are hard to find during the summer, we have to search early in the season to find them active. But because it’s so cold, there is only a small window of opportunity in which to find them. So tramping around a wide area in waders was probably not the most effective way of searching for Spotted Turtles — though, as it turned out, it was a great way to see a lot of different animals! Next time, they thought, they should consider staking out individual ponds and waiting for any turtles to come out, or drift-netting: a more passive approach that might yield more results, and shed better light on the population status of this sensitive population.
We fed ourselves in-town that night, and talked around the campfire into the early hours of the morning. Sunday morning most of us were too tired to get moving promptly; this was as much a result of the long day Saturday as the late night. And it was cold, and more overcast than it had been the day before. Any active herps would only come out in the mid to late afternoon, we surmised, so we packed up our things, chatted some more, posed for a group photo, and got on our way shortly after noon. All who went agreed that though it was a long way to have gone, it was a trip well worth taking. Several want to do it again next year, and the enthusiasm for the next big expedition outside eastern Ontario — Pelee Island on Victoria Day weekend — is already high.