The following was written by Keeley Peek and Alyssa Vanerelli, two research students in the Reynolds Lab at The University of North Carolina Asheville. Here they document some experiences with a lesser-known anole species- Anolis scriptus– a species our research group has tried to acquaint AA readers with previously (1,2,3,4).
As aspiring tropical herpetologists, adventures aren’t hard to come by. A combination of travelin
g to new places and the thrill of encountering new species is a constant excitement. From high in the Blue Ridge Mountains, we heard the soft call of crystal blue waters crashing against a distant shore, and importantly, the scurry of little legs across the sand. It was time for an adventure to the Turks and Caicos Islands.
We touched down in a small plane on the long runway of remote Big Ambergris Cay, one of the last strongholds of the Turks Island Boa (Chilabothrus chrysogaster) and Turks and Caicos Rock Iguana (Cyclura carinata). While these two species seem to rule the island during the night and day, respectively, they are not the only ones that think they own the place. Within a mere moment of tumbling out of the 5-seater plane we spotted our target. The Turks and Caicos Anole (Anolis scriptus scriptus) was soon found to dash under every rock, prickly plant, and structure around. We know surprisingly little about these amazing anoles, which are widely distributed in the southern Lucayan Archipelago. Few focused studies on the natural history of this species have been conducted, and each time our Lab visits this region for our ongoing research on boas and iguanas, we often spot Dr. Reynolds imploring us to find a way to fold in some time for anole study.
Female A. scriptus, hidden among the vegetation.
Although our main efforts were on collaborative boa and iguana research with the San Diego Zoo Institute for Conservation Research, most days we would spend our free time in the afternoons in the hot sunlight trying to catch as many anoles as possible. Without any nooses, nets, or know-how, this was not the easiest task. Around the compound where we stayed, the anoles could be found basking in the sun on the concrete building walls or other human structures, reminding us of work done by Kristin Winchell of Washington University in St. Louis (who gave a seminar at UNC Asheville). They also taunted us from tree branches, just out of our reach. The males on Ambergris Cay stood out with a striking yellow underside, yellow extremities, and an orange-yellow dewlap contrasting remarkably with the beige covered their backs. Females sported a less-colorful look, but have a curious pattern consisting of a light stripe running down their back crossed by thin black bars. We were also able to observe, and sometimes catch, anoles as we worked in the evenings catching boas.
After spotting a beautiful male A. scriptus on what may have been a water heater (we weren’t exactly focused on the structure), we silently stalked towards our scaly tailed friend. After discussing the best angles, timing, and speed we should use to capture this anole, we froze ready to strike. One of us raised a hand for distraction, the other sneaking up in the blind spot to… watch as the anole disappear over the side of the heater. We retreated with a stinging defeat, only to return later as the anole had returned to his basking spot. With a few recalculations and adjustments, we crept in for round two, and emerged victorious.
An amazing feature common among all anoles are their dewlaps which they use to attract females and discourage predators as well as other males. Adorned in vibrant colors, the dewlap is a feature that is easiest to observe when a specimen is in-hand. As newcomers to catching A. scriptus, it was a bit of an adjustment to learn to delicately handle these tiny but surprisingly strong creatures. We received some advice from a seasoned A. scriptus catcher (who doubles as our research advisor), Dr. Graham Reynolds, that the best trick is to let them bite us on the finger and then they will gently extend the dewlap. At first, we believed he was pulling our dewlap, and then we realized he was extremely serious. With a quick game of rock-paper-scissors to determine the anole’s victim, we let the creature’s teeth sink a whole nanometer into our skin and extended its sunrise-colored jewel of a dewlap. We embraced the pain and received the reward of observing one of the anole’s best features. Count us among two of the newest fans of the incredible Anolis scriptus.
Learning a new technique.
p.s. Anolis scriptus is going big-time, having featured in recent publications in Nature and PNAS. We look forward to the time when they are as popular as A. sagrei!
The Reynolds Lab (www.CaribbeanBoas.org) studies the ecology and evolution of reptiles and amphibians in the Caribbean and the southeastern United States. We are an undergraduate research-centric Lab.
- A Victorian Mystery – the Lizard Dewlap - October 10, 2020
- Undergraduates among the Anoles: Anolis scriptus in the Turks & Caicos - July 14, 2020
- Anoles and Drones, a Dispatch from Island Biology 2019 - August 26, 2019
Rick Wallach
At least our Caribbean species are getting a welcome break from vacationers and tourists trying to snare them with little slip-nooses fashioned from areca palm frond veins, the way I used to catch them when I was a kid. Natural areas are most likely getting a well deserved rest from tromping feet, cast-off cigarette butts and discarded waxed paper or plastic drink cups.
But of course, there is no relief from graduate students.