Polar (opposite) Research: Lessons learned from two scientists working from the farthest reaches of the globe
By Sarah Dodgin, Ecological Analyst
The cryosphere describes the frozen parts of the earth, which includes glaciers, ice sheets, snow, and permafrost. While these areas sound desolate and void of life, two scientists at BRI have devoted decades to studying the diversity of animals that call these frigid landscapes home. Dr. Iain Stenhouse has been with BRI since 2010, and Dr. Michael Wethington, since 2024. Both have spent countless hours looking through binoculars, dressed in heavily insulated waterproof clothing while the sun shined past midnight. Both have made enormous efforts to get to (and stay alive) in their study sites, and both traveled to these places during the summer, but not during the same time of year. Is this sounding like a riddle yet? Here’s one more: while Dr. Stenhouse’s and Dr. Wethington’s work share many similarities, geographically speaking, they couldn’t be farther apart.
If you haven’t guessed already, Michael and Iain’s work focuses on the Arctic (Iain) and Antarctic (Michael) ecosystems.
Always fascinated by seabirds, Iain took the enthusiasm he developed while growing up in Scotland to eastern Canada where he began his graduate research. During this time, Iain investigated the habitat use and breeding success of Leach’s Storm-Petrels on Great Island, Newfoundland, and the reproductive and behavioral ecology of Sabine’s Gulls on Southampton Island, Nunavut. Later, Iain studied the survival rates of Ivory Gulls on Devon Island, Baffin Island, and Ellesmere Island that were banded in Nunavut. Going even farther north, he spent time in Zackenberg in northeast Greenland where he deployed archival tracking tags on Arctic Terns and Sabine’s Gulls.
Dr. Stenhouse looking for tagged Arctic Terns in Northeast Greenland. Photo by Carsten Egevang.
Although Dr. Stenhouse has traveled to many places in the Arctic, getting there is never easy. During his graduate studies, Iain’s journey north started with a regular flight to Ottawa where he would catch a smaller plane to Iqaluit, a tiny village in Nunavut, Canada. There, he and his team would stock up on supplies to last two to three months in the Arctic wilderness. They would stuff an even smaller twin-prop plane full of the gear they would need to survive, prepping for every eventuality, and hope for a smooth landing out on the sea ice, sometimes circling many times, looking for just the right conditions to make a safe landing. The team would set up a large, round canvas tent the size of a small room, with a single pole at the center, used for storage and cooking, while the scientists slept in individual pup tents. That was in 1999, when anyone who traveled there also needed to carry a satellite phone the size of suitcase in case of an emergency. There is still no cell phone service, but thanks to Iain’s pioneering research, there are now cabins at an established Arctic research station. While the cabins give the slightest illusion of modern comforts, the field site is still 60 km from the nearest dirt road.
“Every moment is breathtaking, but every moment can also take your life.”
When asked to recount his experiences in the Arctic, Iain always came back to one word: stunning. But in the Arctic, stunning comes at a cost. Simple mistakes in extreme environments—like getting wet or losing a glove—can be deadly. Conditions change constantly, and staying dry becomes a major concern in spring when the tundra’s snow and ice begins to melt. That’s when neoprene waders become part of the everyday wardrobe.
Map of the places Iain conducted his research and the species he studied at each location.
In the tundra summer, where temperatures rarely reach 50°F, there’s more water than land. As the ice melts, thousands of ponds appear, transforming the landscape. Instead of weaving around them, it’s more efficient to just wade on through. And with the water comes the bugs, triggering an intense burst of life built up from insect larvae.
What was once a frozen, silent tundra suddenly fills with sound. Thousands of birds arrive on migration—gulls, loons, eiders, shorebirds, and raptors—creating a constant chorus. This time of year, the Arctic never sleeps; the sun is up day and night, and the sounds never stop.
One of Iain’s fondest memories is the sound of rushing wind created by the beating wings of an incoming flock of King Eiders. He was crossing a pond on his way to a field site when he heard the rush of air, an alarmingly loud sound like a train barreling down the tracks. The flock approached almost at eye level, and just before they collided with him, they gracefully parted—only to come back together once they passed, as if he were nothing more than a stick in the mud.
In a rare quiet moment during a break, an Arctic fox approached Iain and gave him a curious sniff. Eye to eye with the wild animal, both were unafraid—just quietly observing each other. After a moment, the fox simply shrugged and walked off, carrying on with its day.
A truly cacophonous species, the Leach’s Storm-Petrel, can be found slightly farther south in Newfoundland. Dr. Stenhouse describes visiting a storm-petrel colony as a full-sensory experience. Despite being one of the most numerous species on the planet, Leach’s Storm-Petrels are birds most people will never see. They spend their days feeding on plankton over 100 miles from shore and return to nest in underground burrows at night. Though they remain out of sight most of the time, on a summer’s night, a Leach’s Storm-Petrel colony feels like one of the loudest places on earth.
Suffice to say, Iain feels deeply connected to this region of the world. So, when asked about the climate research showing how rapidly the Arctic is changing, he simply said that it makes him sad. Even during his time there, these changes were noticeable year to year. “I think about how that entire ecosystem has developed over millennia and yet is so fragile. Every organism in that ecosystem (including the humans that call the Arctic home) is highly dependent on the existence and the longevity of ice! Without that, it all collapses and can never be remade the same again.”
Dr. Wethington manually counting penguins in a colony on the Antarctic Peninsula. Photo taken by his team.
Dr. Wethington also intimately understands the critical role of sea ice, the keystone of the entire Antarctic ecosystem. It drives biogeochemical cycling, supports primary productivity (i.e., phytoplankton), sustains food webs, and regulates the global climate. When sea ice diminishes, habitats are lost, food webs unravel, and species distributions shift.
One of the most important roles of sea ice is protecting krill. Like insects in the Arctic, krill are at the heart of the Antarctic food web—everything either eats krill or relies on them indirectly. The delicate balance between sea ice, phytoplankton, and krill (which feed on phytoplankton) is what makes the Antarctic ecosystem function. Sea ice also provides structural habitat for seals and penguins.
Though sea ice is always present, it’s constantly in flux. The breaking up of sea ice around Antarctica is the largest annual geophysical event on Earth. The continent is twice the size of the continental U.S., and when sea ice expands, it nearly doubles in size. If the entire Antarctic ice sheet were to melt, sea levels would rise by an astonishing 212 feet. The frozen landscape of the Antarctic has an enormous impact on Earth’s climate regulation, helping to reflect solar energy back into space and keeping the planet cool.
Before setting foot in Antarctica for his doctoral research, Michael spent years supporting cryospheric science at the Polar Geospatial Center (PGC) at the University of Minnesota. As a cartographer and geospatial scientist, he supported polar mapping initiatives and collaborated on numerous research projects funded by NSF and NASA’s Cryosphere Program, spanning both the Arctic and Antarctic regions. During his time at PGC, Michael contributed to the development of the Reference Elevation Model of Antarctica (REMA), the most detailed terrain model ever produced of the world’s last uncharted landmass.
Unlike the smaller birds Iain studied, which could fly hundreds or even thousands of miles, Michael’s research in Antarctica focused on birds that use their wings for swimming. Penguins, found only in the Southern Hemisphere, are not only expert swimmers but can also scale rocky cliffs and icebergs with ease. On the Antarctic Peninsula—Michael’s primary study site—two species of penguin, Adélie and Gentoo, coexist, though not in equal numbers. Gentoo Penguins are more resilient to climate change in part because they are not as reliant on sea ice as Adélie Penguins, whose colonies are increasingly absent on parts of the western side of the Peninsula.
Map of the Antarctic Peninsula and the species Michael studied.
To determine just how much the populations of these two penguin species are changing, Michael used a combination of ground-based hand counts, drones, and satellite imagery to collect detailed population data from individual colonies. After analyzing the high-resolution imagery and historical data, it became clear that the Gentoo population is rapidly increasing and expanding its range farther south than previously observed, while the Adélie population faces a decline in areas where sea ice conditions are increasing unstable.
Michael launching a drone from a zodiac. Photo taken by his team.
Michael further investigated the relationship between sea ice and Antarctic wildlife by focusing on two pack-ice seal populations—Weddell and Crabeater seals—species that rely on sea ice for breeding, resting, and evading predators. Instead of drones, he employed satellite imagery to locate seals on ice floes. He then processed these images using advanced deep learning and machine learning models to accurately distinguish between the two species. Studying seals from space allowed Michael to observe subtle behavioral and dispersal differences across a much larger geographic area than would be feasible through traditional field survey methods. Continuing to analyze both drone and satellite imagery of penguins and seals will be crucial for understanding the complex and often unpredictable ways climate change is reshaping Antarctica.
An Arctic Tern reminds Dr. Stenhouse that he has no right to be standing in their breeding colony.
Although the Arctic and Antarctic are literal polar opposites, Michael and Iain’s research highlight many similarities shared by the two frozen landscapes. One species that connects both scientists through an incredible pole-to-pole migration is the Arctic Tern. After breeding across the high latitudes of the Northern Hemisphere during the boreal summer, Arctic Terns head south to spend the austral summer amid the pack ice of the Weddell Sea.
In 2007–2008, Iain participated in a study tracking Arctic Terns from Northeast Greenland to Antarctica and back—recording the longest animal migration ever measured at the time, with an average round trip of more than 70,000 kilometers. While Michael and Iain weren’t working in the field at the same time, there’s a good chance that if they had been, they might have seen the same individual terns in the same year.
The strongest uniting factor between the Arctic and Antarctic, however, is the undeniable and alarming rate of change occurring on both poles. With sea ice playing such a critical role in the life cycles of so many plants and animals, it makes sense that scientists like Dr. Stenhouse and Dr. Wethington are concerned for the future of these ecosystems they know so well. Thankfully, BRI’s Center for Conservation and Climate Change combines the resources of BRI’s 17 programs to conduct studies that cross species lines and geographic boundaries. The strength of our collective work contributes to the ongoing dialogue about climate change and helps to inform the actions that are needed to address it.
Wetland Wonders: From Colombia to Conservation
By Allison Foster, Science Communications Coordinator
Korik and his daughters enjoy a day out on a boat survey.
Korik Vargas is a family man at heart. This wetland scientist shares his love for the outdoors with his children, and just about anyone who is around. He especially enjoys taking his daughters out for a day in the field.
Originally from Colombia, Korik grew up with a love for the outdoors. He earned a degree in biology at the University of the Andes, in Bogota. He studied the impact of geography on bird diversity in Colombia. However, “the initial connection to wetland work was through plant identification,” Korik says.
While working in Colombia, Korik met his wife, Rose. After living in Colombia for three years, they decided to move to New Hampshire, where Rose is from. In a new place, Korik decided the best way to do something is to go back to school and he enrolled at the University of New Hampshire. His master’s program focused on eco-hydrology, working with forests and climate change. “Recognizing trees, shrubs, herbs, and flowers in the field is necessary to understand the comprehensive view of the ecosystem.”
Korik and his wife welcomed their two daughters shortly after he finished his master’s degree. In 2021, Korik joined BRI’s team as a wetland biologist. While it’s not easy to juggle work travels and family life, Korik admits, “I wish there were a way to combine both.”
Springtime in Maine is a bustling time in the forest, with spring peepers singing their songs among the leaves and woodchucks emerging from their burrows with the warmer temperatures. Our biologists conduct vernal pool surveys, where they trek along the seasonal wetlands that fill up with water each spring, and dry out in the summer, providing critical habitat for wildlife species.
On these surveys, they look for egg masses, laid by frogs and salamanders. The egg masses are clumped, usually latched onto vegetation.
Korik brought his daughter along on one of these field surveys to spend the day searching for the amphibious egg masses in vernal pools, surrounded by wetlands in vibrant shades of blue water and green moss. Springtime in Maine can bring unexpected weather, and that day they were met with cold, rainy weather. They found the first mass of eggs, and it brought a bunch of excitement! “Okay, we’re done,” said Korik’s daughter, but he just laughed and said, “We have more to see!”
Korik’s daughter explores the wetlands.
Korik hopes that these experiences with his daughters could plant a seed in their minds. Their family spends a great deal of time outdoors, and Korik says, “if they feel comfortable, at the end that’s the most important thing.”
In his role at BRI, Korik helps out with fieldwork all across the state, whether it’s catching loons or releasing raptors! “Some of my favorite memories come from the lakes scattered across Maine.” His strengths lie in his adaptability. He has worked on a number of different types of projects, filling the gaps on the team. “Fieldwork can be hard, things not going in the direction that we want, but I’m flexible on a team and don’t add to the stress.”
Korik works wherever he’s needed. Here he is about to release a Peregrine Falcon at BRI’s raptor station on Block Island.
Korik really values the supportive work environment at BRI. When BRI started working in Colombia, Korik approached Dave Evers, BRI’s founder, and asked for “the chance to work in Colombia for a month.” And Dave agreed. During that month, Korik sent photo updates back regularly and was happy to be back and spending time in the wetlands.
That first trip in 2022 piqued interest in mercury monitoring in Colombia, with the goal to develop a framework for assessing mercury exposure in birds, bats, and fish. After networking with researchers and continued motivation to push the project forward, three years later, Korik is getting ready to travel back again.
Korik is the lead biologist on our project in Colombia. “Working as a part of these multidisciplinary collaborations, it demands patience and a constant effort to spot opportunities for partnership,” he notes. The project brings together researchers from the Alexander von Humboldt Institute, BRI, and the Nature Conservancy. As Korik and the team are preparing to head to the tropics, he anticipates long days. “It’ll be early mornings, as it gets too hot and muggy with mosquitoes as the day goes on in the field.”
When asked about what he’s looking forward to, he answers, “I envision loons, eagles, and many other bird captures in my future.”
Interview with Ken Archer, Wildlife Conservation Photographer
By Deborah McKew, Communications and Publications Director
Photo: African Fish-Eagle
As with every creative endeavor, conservation is a process, and it requires first and foremost an idea that strikes a chord. Art reaches people at that emotional level. Once captivated, people can begin to gain an understanding of a given concern, and once they understand an issue, they will be more apt to take positive action, which is the ultimate goal.
Ken Archer is a renowned wildlife conservation photographer who shares some of his thoughts on the subject.
DM: How did you become a wildlife conservation photographer?
Red fox kits playing.
KA: When I first started photographing wildlife and nature in the late 1980s, my main goal was simply to spend quality time outdoors and attempt to create unique photos of whatever I would discover while exploring wild areas in my home state of Colorado. Many years ago, I encountered a red fox family living in a large vacant field near my home in Colorado Springs. That experience shaped me into a conservation photographer, although I didn’t realize it at the time. I watched and filmed them as they raised a dozen or so kits over a couple of spring seasons. During my second year of filming them, I learned of plans to make the fields into parking lots. Although I couldn’t stop the development, I showed the developers enlarged photos of the foxes, and was able to convince them to hold off their construction plans at least until the young foxes of the year were raised and could take care of themselves. The fox family moved into a nearby creek drainage when the construction eventually began. I believe high quality imagery goes a long way to helping folks decide that an animal or place needs to be protected and preserved.
Capturing the personality of the Maribou Stork
DM: Your photos capture the spirit of your subjects. Do you agree?
KA: I like to spend quality amounts of time with my subjects and get to know them a little bit. It doesn’t work all the time, but when an animal relaxes and becomes comfortable with my presence, that’s when the magic happens. I use super telephoto lenses, which enable me to keep a comfortable distance from my subject so that they can go about their everyday lives without me interfering. With that acceptance, I am able to work with the light and environment to create artistic images of my subject.
DM: Over the years working together, you often donated photos to BRI. Can you speak about that aspect?
KA: From the beginning, wildlife biologists have been very helpful to me when I was in search of a particular bird or wildlife species. Many of these folks have been my friends for more than 30 years and whenever they need a photo to help illustrate their projects, I don’t hesitate to help because I know that those finished projects will see many eyes, which may inspire someone to take action to help conserve natural areas. Wild lands are very important to all of us.
DM: You travel all over the world providing photography workshops—how are those structured?
KA: I have been working with Trogon Photography Tours since 2010, and it’s their fault that I have been able to travel to all these incredible places to see and photograph amazing creatures and places. I am forever grateful! For many of the photo tours that I lead, I know the areas and wildlife that live there intimately. Extended time in these places help to make for a more successful experience for our participants. Also, Trogon Tours employs excellent local bird and wildlife guides/photographers.
DM: Our first joint project was Loon Landscapes. Now we are working on a book about the birds of Amboseli National Park in Kenya. What do these book projects mean to you, personally and professionally?
KA: These kinds of dedicated projects put me exactly where I love to be, and doing what I sincerely love—creating unique photos of wild lives. For me, making book-worthy photographs of birds and wildlife takes time and knowledge of the species you want to cover. I do extensive research of my subjects through magazine articles, books, and documentaries. But my favorite way to gain knowledge is through personal experience with a one-on-one connection to my subject in the field. When all my knowledge and time with my subject comes together and I’m able to capture a unique image or series of behavior images, that’s when I’m most happy, because that animal or bird was comfortable enough with my presence to allow me a longer glimpse into their world for a little while.
A Little Bee-eater eating a bee in Amboseli National Park
DM: Can you provide a particular anecdote that sums up the experience you had in Amboseli with BRI staff?
KA: BRI set me up with a couple of their local staff—two amazing Massai guides who know the wildlife that lives there extremely well. Wison was my official bird guide, and we had a list of 100 bird species to photograph for inclusion in the book and we only had 5½ days to do it. Wison knew all the birds we needed to photograph and the habitats they preferred to live in. We purposely were not in a hurry, although we only had a few days. We just let mother nature do her thing, showing us what she wanted us to see and photograph. And … oh, my … what a performance she put on for us. We were able to film 79 of the species on the list, a feat I never expected to even come close to.
A Zitting Cistacola encountered and photographed as the bird quickly disappeared into the woods. Known as a grab shot.
What impressed me most about Wilson was his incredible ability to find birds with his ears. The only photo we captured of a Zitting Cisticola was a fast-materializing grab shot, only because of his knowledge of the area and keen hearing did that photo happen. Amboseli is full of sounds and for Wilson to hear a particular bird call amongst all the other sounds was mind blowing. We were able to photograph several of the species on the list because he had heard them first and we positioned ourselves in what he thought would be the best vantage point to wait for the birds to emerge and show themselves to us.
Isiah was our driver. During our visit to Amboseli, it was the beginning of the rainy season, which made the roads particularly challenging to navigate at times. There was only one day when it didn’t rain on us sometime during the day. And then you throw a persnickety photographer in the backseat guiding him to the perfect shooting angles, that could have been especially nerve racking. But Isiah was rock solid, skilled, and very accommodating to my needs. His willingness to do whatever I needed until I was satisfied with the photo opportunities a given situation offered us was extremely appreciated.
To view more of Ken’s images, visit: https://kenarcherphotos.com/
Journey of a Thousand Miles
By Eleanor Eckel, Online Communications Manager and Science Policy Coordinator
President Carter gives a speech after solar panels were installed at the White House in June 1979. Photo Credit: Universal History Archive/Universal Images Groups via Getty Images
Unity, a tiny college town of just over 2,000 residents in northern Maine, swells to more than 60,000 during its annual Common Ground Country Fair. Besides the famous country fair, this town in Waldo County claims an important piece of environmental history.
In 1979, President Jimmy Carter installed solar panels on the roof of the White House. Amidst the energy crisis of the 1970s, the solar panels represented a symbolic yet practical step forward in Carter’s ambitious plan to shift the country’s focus toward renewable energy use. During his State of the Union address the year the panels were installed, he announced his plan to put America on a clean energy path: 20 percent of energy from renewable sources by 2000. During his presidency, his environmental agenda, including prioritizing energy efficiency and moving away from foreign crude oil, was often criticized.
Carter himself recognized the uphill battle he faced. As the panels were installed, he addressed the press with words that would resonate decades later:
“A generation from now, this solar heater can either be a curiosity, a museum piece, an example of a road not taken, or it can be a small part of one of the greatest and most exciting adventures ever undertaken by the American people.”
His foresight was both a warning and a hope—a reflection of the difficult path ahead in the fight for sustainable energy technologies. Through the installation of the solar panels, Carter laid the groundwork for progress in sustainability and helped to identify the tools needed to address issues from climate change that are relevant today.
Jumping ahead to February 2025, mere months after Jimmy Carter passed away at the age of 100, the climate crisis has entered a new phase—2025 is predicted to be the hottest year on record, with increased extreme weather events —and the need for strong environmental policy has never been greater. As of today, the United States still does not have a national biodiversity policy, as it has not ratified the Convention on Biological Diversity (CBD), an international treaty aimed at promoting the conservation and sustainable use of biodiversity. Additionally, the current administration is set to step away from the previous climate agenda and move towards increased fossil fuel use; at his inauguration speech Trump repeated the old adage of “drill baby drill.”
However, significant environmental improvements once spearheaded by Carter are happening at the state level. For the first time on record, in 2024 the state of Maine recorded over 100 days in which customers used more energy from the regional grid at night, as opposed to daytime. This change is reflective of the fact that many people have installed rooftop solar panels on their homes and commercial residences, generating power instead of pulling from the grid.
The refurbished solar panels now provide power to the college in Unity. Photo courtesy of Unity Environmental University.
Carter’s solar panels were dismantled during the Reagan administration, tucked away in storage, seemingly forgotten. But years later, their story took an unexpected turn. According to an article in the Portland Press Herald, a former administrator from Unity College in Maine—a small, environmentally focused school—saw potential in these dormant panels. Determined to give them new life, he arranged for the panels to be transported to the college, where they were refurbished and installed atop the cafeteria roof. Now, Unity College plans to display some of them at its main campus in New Gloucester and at its Sky Lodge campus in Moose River.
Their journey from the White House roof to a small town in Maine, mirrors the broader story of America’s environmental movement—marked by setbacks and rediscoveries, but always driven by the hope that, in Carter’s words, we will choose the path of moving the country towards an environmentally sound future.
BRI has long prioritized the need to advance emerging natural resource sciences. For more information on our programs and research projects, visit: www.briwildlife.org/center-for-conservation-and-climate-change/
Photo Credits: Header photo © BRI
