Category: Notes from the Field Page 14 of 22

My husband and I are retired professors living part-time on Little Cayman, so we have come to know both A. sagrei and A. maynardi fairly well. Due to the dearth of information on the latter, we’re posting whatever we’ve got in hopes it helps someone or inspires someone. We have one, a large male, who sleeps most night on a ledge on the inside of our screen porch (he comes in a gap under the door). He goes to bed about 5:30-6 and wakes up around 8 am.

Anolis who sleeps on top of screen door frame

He is very regular in his habits & quite territorial — we watched him chase a smaller green anolis out of his sleeping ledge with much head bobbing and charges and this morning he smacked into another large male who had the affrontery to be sitting on his deck outside the screen porch! The other male either jumped off the deck or moved quickly to be underneath the deck.

We attach a few photos of two maynardi mating yesterday. Total encounter time was about 6 minutes.

Another view of anole sex

Both maynardi & sagrei drink from our bird bath regularly & follow me when I water the garden to drink off wet decks or leaves.

Tales of Notorious Reptile Smugglers

By Rich Glor

On February 6, 2012

In Anole Art, Literature, and Humor, Notes from the Field, Research Methods

Stolen World: A Tale of Reptiles, Smugglers, and Skulduggery by Jennie Erin Smith is a page-turning historical account of the most notorious reptile smugglers in the United States. Many of the stories in Stolen World are derived from first-hand accounts provided by a core group of old-school smugglers, most notably Hank Molt and Tom Crutchfield. I was shocked at how open these folks were about their practices, particular given that some of them are still actively collecting, importing, and selling rare reptiles. Indeed, some of the book’s primary subjects now seem to regret their decision to share so much with Smith (I’ll return to this point later).

In Search Of Anolis lividus In The Shadow Of The Soufrière Hills Volcano

By Martha Muñoz

On January 17, 2012

In Notes from the Field

A view of the volcano as seen from the abandoned town of Richmond Hill. Photo: Jim Hewlett

As “anolologists” we think of the Lesser Antilles as one of the major treasure troves of colorful and extravagant lizards. They have been the subject of many AA posts (here, here, here, and here, among others). While gazing at anoles dewlapping in swaying palm trees, it’s easy to forget that the Lesser Antilles are a volcanic arc. However, on the tiny island of Montserrat where Anolis lividus is found, the volcano is alive and active. After a long dormancy the volcano awoke in 1995 and, within only a few weeks of activity, the capital city of Plymouth and surrounding areas were carpeted in several meters of pyroclastic material. Today Plymouth is a modern-day Pompeii. Plymouth is also the type locality for Anolis lividus, a charismatic medium-sized lizard from the bimaculatus clade of Lesser Antillean anoles. It was extraordinarily abundant in Plymouth and surrounding areas, according to Skip Lazell’s 1972 monograph in the Bulletin of the Museum of Comparative Zoology. Since 2009 I’ve been surveying this lizard across the island, and have tried to find it as close to the volcano as I can get.

More on the Intriguing Anole of Curacao, Anolis lineatus

By Jonathan Losos

On January 14, 2012

In Notes from the Field

Anolis lineatus. Photo by Jonathan Losos

Matt Brandley recently posted on the remarkable anole of Curaçao, Anolis lineatus, which is notable for having a dewlap that is different on its two sides. Taking advantage of an invitation to participate in a conference in Aruba in January (the travails of life as a scientist), I’ve come to Curaçao to check up on this lizard, which I’ve never previously seen. The dewlap situation sounds remarkable, but there’s a second reason this species is of interest.

Many islands in the Lesser Antilles are home to only one anole species, and the anoles on these islands are renowned for the extent of their convergent evolution to each other and to trunk-crown anoles of the Greater Antilles. Schoener was the first to show that one-species island anoles tend to be remarkably similar in body size, a pattern reaffirmed most recently by Poe et al. The convergence extends beyond size, however, as these species also are very similar in their habitat use (similar to trunk-crown anoles in being arboreal but using a wide range of microhabitats) and their body proportions, such as the length of their limbs and the size of their toepads.

That leads to the question: is this a phenomenon solely of the Lesser Antilles and the two anole lineages that occur there (the bimaculatus Group anoles in the northern half of the island chain and the roquet Group in the south)? Or do solitary anoles anywhere converge on this pattern? Anolis lineatus is a particularly good test, because it comes from a lineage (the chrysolepis species group, about which we will hear more soon) that is not only distantly related to the other two, but is composed of anoles whose habitat and morphology are nothing like those of the solitary anoles.

So, I’m aiming to not only take a peek at lineatus’s throat fan, but also collect data on where it occurs and what it’s morphology looks like. First indications are that lineatus is a chunky anole, not unlike some solitary anoles such as marmoratus or oculatus, but perhaps more similar to trunk-ground anoles than to trunk-crowns.

Habitat-wise, though, lineatus is clearly a surprise—it’s not very arboreal, at least in my day and a fraction of data collection. It’s usually pretty low to the ground, rarely over 1.5 meters high, and often on large rocks or rock walls. More like a trunk-ground anole than a trunk-crown. Moreover, though I’ve been looking for it in the vicinity of human habitations, I’ve yet to see it on a building wall. Bottom line: it’s just not that arboreal.

To be honest, the anole that immediately comes to mind is Anolis gingivinus. This species is a bit hard to categorize: it occurs on some Lesser Antillean islands by itself, but on others it is sympatric with a second species (A. pogus). Moreover, on all islands, it tends to be found relatively low to the ground and not surprisingly, morphologically it’s more trunk-ground-like than typical solitary anoles. Of course, I haven’t actually seen gingivinus in nearly 20 years, so my memory may be faulty.

And we shouldn’t forget the Malice of Nature, which leads me expect to open my door tomorrow and see an anole on the ground, which immediately runs up the wall and out of sight.

By the way, there are other cool lizards here. Lots of green iguanas, for example, but also the very cool and herbivorous Cnemidophorus murinus, endemic to Curaçao and nearby Bonaire.

Cnemidophorus murinus. Photo by Jonathan Losos

Asymmetrical dewlap color in Anolis lineatus on Curaçao

By MattBrandley

On January 3, 2012

In Natural History Observations, Notes from the Field

In September, 2011, Alex Dornburg (Yale), Andy Jones (Yale), Teresa Iglesias (UC Davis), Dan Warren (UT Austin) and I made our yearly pilgrimage to study the marine and herpetological fauna of Curaçao. On the advice of J. Losos, one of our missions this year was to document the dewlap color asymmetry in Anolis lineatus.

In 1967, Stan and Patricia Rand published a paper on the natural history of A. lineatus and noted that:

“The dewlap is large in the male; extended it has a wide border with bright orange skin around a block central spot. The spot is crossed by several widely separated rows of white scales. The border on one side is closely set with yellow or whitish scales, on the other side, the scales are rudimentary and colored like the skin. About half the males have the scales well developed on the right side of the dewlap, about half on the left… one side of the dewlap appears to have a bright orange border, the other side a yellow orange border. The females have a much smaller dewlap, but colored like the males’ and also asymmetrical, though less conspicuously so.”

We braved multiple attacks of push-ups and head bobs and managed to collect and photograph multiple individuals.

Note the large, white scales in the orange field of the dewlaps:

versus the other side of the dewlap which lacks the large, white scales:

The orange vs. yellow-orange difference is a bit subtle and not easily visible in these photos, but it’s there. Like Rand and Rand, we found a roughly equal distribution of individuals with the white scales on the left, and those on the right.

What explains this asymmetry? Are they using the different colors to warn males and attract females?

We are thinking of hypotheses to test during our 2012 trip to the island and we’d appreciate hearing other ideas from other researchers.

Illustrations by A. Seago

Hungry Hungry Anole

By Audrey Kelly

On December 27, 2011

In Natural History Observations, Notes from the Field

Here’s another highlight from the collection of videos that the Glor Lab recorded during an expedition in the summer of 2010 (see our previously posted videos of a fight, color change, and mating). This video is an interaction between a male Anolis distichus and a caterpillar. This interaction left one of the participants with a good meal and the other, well, let’s just say he’s a part of the circle of life.

Colour Variation in Lesser Antillean Anoles

By Ambika Kamath

On December 17, 2011

In Notes from the Field

Male A. oculatus, near Salisbury, Dominica

The recent post on the newly described Anolis tenorioensis, and the variation in both dewlap and body coloration in that group of species, reminded me of the striking variation in body pattern and colour in the Lesser Antillean Anolis oculatus. I was in Dominica in 2010, ostensibly to collect data on hummingbirds and Heliconias, but spent some of my free time watching the island’s only native anole. We were living in the west of the island, near the Caribbean coast and surrounded by dry scrubby forest, and here A. oculatus looked like this:

Anolis hendersoni in the Dominican Republic

By Daniel Scantlebury

On December 15, 2011

In Natural History Observations, Notes from the Field

Here’s a close up of the Anolis hendersoni I found sleeping one fateful night inside the Dominican Republic.

Anolis hendersoni - male

Prior to finding this species, I had spent the evening looking for Sphaerodactylus armstrongi and S. streptophorus on the northern slopes of the Sierra de Bahoruco NW of Puerto Escondido. Upon entering a patch of closed-canopy, broad-leafed forest with a dense, bushy understory, I remarked to myself, “I bet there will be Anolis bahorucoensis here.” Anolis bahorucoensis is a bush anole that is common across the Sierra de Bahoruco, and often found alongside S. armstrongi. I was not expecting to see A. hendersoni – another dolichocephalic bush dwelling species that is closely related to A. bahorucoensis – because it is generally considered a Haitian endemic whose range doesn’t cross the border into the Dominican Republic. When the sun set and I switched over to night hunting, I was happy to find out my intuition was, for once in my life, a close approximation of reality.

Animal, Vegetal, and Mechanical Perils of Fieldwork

By Anthony J Geneva

On December 13, 2011

In Notes from the Field

Dan Scantlebury recently recently posted a pair of success stories [1] [2] from the field. This post focuses on a darker side, the perils of field work. I’ve highlighted three stories below, one animal, one vegetal and one mechanical.

Mechanical Perils
No trip to the Dominican Republic is complete without transportation issues; we generally lose about a day every two weeks to dealing with vehicles. In our last few trips we discovered in the middle of a river that our supposedly 4WD truck was in fact FWD, had a Dominican gomero refuse to fix a flat because the tire was too worn (remarkable because nobody has lower standards for what qualifies as a functional tire than a gomero), and realized our rental truck had one tire that was significantly smaller than the other three only after driving from Santo Domingo to Barahona. Pictured above is my “favorite” vehicular mishap.

Yellow Anole Eggs

By Rich Glor

On December 10, 2011

In Notes from the Field, Research Methods

A 'slug' next to a healthy, freshly laid egg. The scale bars in millimeters.

Anyone who’s raised anoles has likely run across the occasional slug. I’m not talking about shell-less gastropod mollusks, but rather about the flaccid yellow eggs that anoles lay from time to time. Slugs are uncalcified and generally considered infertile. Because slugs never develop viable embryos and tend to quickly rot when incubated most lizard keepers simply discard them. Is there anything to be learned from slugs? In our colony, we tend to recover the most slugs early and late in the breeding season, but we’re not sure why this is the case. Is it possible that the male and female are a bit out of sync, or that the female is priming her reproductive tract for the real deal? We’re also recovering more slugs in our hybrid crosses than in pure crosses, but we’ll have more on that later. Are any reproductive physiologists out there more familiar with the mechanisms responsible for production of slugs?