Clues
Participate in the Orcas Biodiversity Treasure Hunt
What to do when you find a treasure:
You found an Orcas Treasure!
Take a picture
Take some notes
Write down questions you have about what you found
Now add it to the Treasure Map
log into a Google account
open the Orcas Biodiversity Treasure Map
Click on the Edit link.
Zoom or manipulate the map to find the spot where you found the treasure
Select the Add Marker icon at the top
Place the marker at the right spot
Type the type of treasure (“orange jelly fungus” for example)
Type the date you spotted the treasure
Type your name if you want to (or make one up, you can also leave it blank)
Type in any details about your treasure you want to share from your notes
Type in your questions about the treasure (leave the answers field blank)
Upload a picture (or more) of your treasure that you want to share (click on the photo link below and to the right of the description).
Save your entry. If it is in the wrong location you can select cancel, delete it (trash can icon), and start over.
6. Check back to see if we’ve answered your questions.
7. Start looking for more Orcas Treasures!
Treasure Hunt #10
Pacific crabapple
Malus fusca ("brown apple" from the Latin malus, meaning apple, and fuscus, meaning brown, which may be because of how the apples turn brown when they are fully ripe).
Fall is when our wild crabapples really shine; the leaves turn bright autumn red and their berry sized apples ripen first to yellow blushed with brown and eventually to a soft cinnamon brown.
Called qéʔəxʷ (sounds like kay-uch-oo) by Coast Salish, wild Pacific crabapples grow throughout the islands. Coast Salish families harvested the apples, mashed and dried them, and had tangy, vitamin C rich "fruit leather" to eat all winter long. Unlike our orchard apples, they are small, shrubby trees, often with many trunks. In early spring you'll see them covered in clusters of white flowers, that in fall ripen into clusters of tiny round or oblong fruit.
If you taste them when they are hard and yellow they will be a burst of refreshing tartness with a slight bitterness around the core. But you can also follow the lead of the birds and pick them after they have turned brown and are very soft beneath the skin--almost like they turned to apple sauce right on the branch!
Pacific crabapples are closely related to orchard apples, so close in fact that sometimes they will pollinate one another and you'll find strange hybrid crabapples growing where old orchards and crabapple wetlands meet. Pacific crabapples can also be used as rootstock for orchard apples (where you "graft" a piece of orchard apple onto the trunk of a young crabapple and they become a single tree, with crabapple roots and orchard apple branches!). Because our wild crabapples are more tolerant of soggy and even salty soil, this can make a very adaptable tree that produces larger fruit but grows well in wet or salty areas.
Look for Pacific crabapples in wet areas and along the shoreline, using their red leaves and clusters of tiny apples as clues.
Treasure Hunt #9
Wandering garter snake
Thamnophis elegans vagans ("handsome rambling shrubbery snake" from the Greek ophio--snake--and thamnos--shrubbery or bushes, the Latin elegans--handsome or fine-- and vagans--rambling or wandering).
The wandering garter snake is the largest snake found in the San Juan Islands, larger than our other garter snake species. Its size makes it stand out, though in color is is typically a uniform olive gray, sometimes with lighter stripes down its back. The two other garter snake species in the islands are smaller and darker, but can have conspicuous light stripes on their backs, including red and green.
Like all snakes in the islands, the wandering garter snake is non-venomous and preys on many garden pests like slugs and snails. However, while the other species of "shrubbery" snakes tend to stick around gardens and hedgerows, the "rambling" garter snake travels long distances to hunt in the woods, in wetlands, or along the sea shore. This includes frequent swimming to hunt aquatic insects, snails, and even fish. Occasionally these snakes plunge into the sea and swim short distances to rocky islets or they hunt in tide pools and along beaches. They are the only snake species that we have found on very small islands and rocks surrounded by salt water.
Island garter snakes do not lay eggs, they are viviparous (the eggs hatch inside the mother snake) and give birth to tiny snakes which spend the winter together with the mother snake in an underground hibernaculum (a winter shelter). These hibernacula (small underground hollows) are often in the same garden habitats where the snakes find their meals in summer.
Like other reptiles, garter snakes need to warm up in the sun before they can move about, so they are most active and most likely to be seen in the summer and early fall.
If you see one stay very quiet and you may be able to get a good look before it slithers off and disappears in the underbrush or beneath a log. Catching garter snakes is not a good idea, even though they rarely bite they have a nasty habit of peeing in a quite smelly fashion all over their tormentor, kind of like the defensive strategy of skunks! If you happen upon one of these snakes in the water, they swim with just the head and part of the neck extended like a miniature Loch Ness monster or a submarine's periscope.
Treasure Hunt #8
Currant Flower Fly
Syrphus ribesii (“currant fly” from the Greek syrphos (small fly or winged ant) and ribes, which referred to the fruit of currant bushes in medieval Latin
It’s a bee! No, it’s a wasp! And it’s hovering right in front of your face, getting ready to sting you! And buzzing!
Do not fear: you are not facing an angry “yellow jacket”, but a harmless and very timid fly that is trying to scare you away by looking and sounding like an angry wasp. The Currant Flower Fly and its relatives have bright yellow markings that can fool you if you don’t look carefully.
The Flower Flies, also known as Hover Flies due to their helicopter-like movements, are actually some of our most beneficial garden visitors. Like bees, they visit flowers to drink nectar and sometime eat some pollen as well. As they fly from flower to flower, they pick up and drop off a few grains of pollen at a time, mainly stuck to fine hairs on their head and eyes (yes, many have hairy eyes). They make up for carrying very little pollen by being flying farther than bees, and flying when the weather is too cold or wet for bees.
What’s even better, the Currant Flower Fly and other Hover Fly species in the islands lay their eggs on plants that have been invaded by aphids. Aphids are small bugs that suck sugary juices out of the leaves and stems of tender plants like the vegetables in our gardens. They can form herds of hundreds of juice-sucking bugs; in fact, some of the ants in the islands actually herd flocks of aphids and milk the sugary juice from them! But if a Hover Fly comes along, it’s all over for the aphids and their ant-shepherds. Newly-hatched Hover Flies look like green caterpillars no bigger than a grain of rice—but each one can eat dozens of aphids. Hover Flies are a lot safer and less expensive bug control than pesticides.
You can see Currant Flower Flies around gardens, flowering hedges and flower meadows from May until September. Look carefully and you may see other kinds of Hover Flies as well; there are about fifty species in the San Juan Islands!
By the way, the word ribes, pronounced “RYE-beez” by gardeners, has an interesting history. It originally came from the Arabic name for rhubarb, ribas (pronounced REE-BAHS). During the medieval Crusades and Counter-Crusades, many beautifully illustrated scientific books written in Arabic came into the hands of Latin-speaking European scholars. Many, many Arabic words were adopted into medieval Latin as a result. (Think of algebra, which comes from al-jabr, the combining of pieces into a whole.) But many of the garden plants that were familiar to Arabic scholars were still unknown in Europe, so the word for rhubarb was used to give a Latin name to European currant bushes!
Treasure Hunt #7
Salmonberry
Rubus spectabilis (“showy reddish one”) from the Latin rubus “reddish” and spectabilis “conspicuous” Ouch! This Treasure has a lot of sharp thorns! But it also offers us vibrant magenta flowers as summer approaches. If you find a patch of flowering Salmonberry, stop and listen carefully for the buzzing sound of Hummingbirds and Bumblebees. As one of our earliest spring wildflowers, Salmonberry provides nectar to hungry, early-emerging pollinators. The lovely reddish magenta color of Salmonberry flowers is particularly attractive to Hummingbirds, who also like the color of Red Flowering Currants and Orange Honeysuckle. Bumblebees, which cannot see red colors at all, see the bluishness of Salmonberry flowers!
OK, since we are speaking if colors, what exactly is showy and reddish? The berries, of course! Salmonberries are soft and juicy with colors varying from pale orange to deep ruby red; and the best part is that you can safely eat them! They are not very sweet, and each Salmonberry patch can have a somewhat different flavor and aroma, but they are the first native fruits of spring, and because of this they are very important to birds, racoons, squirrels, bears—and people.
Salmonberries have long been a part of Northwest First Nations’ cuisine, eaten mashed up fresh with fish or dried into a kind of fruit leather. Their English name reminds us not only of the color of the ripe berries, but also the timing of the first salmon runs. Spring Chinook salmon arrived from the sea historically at about the time that Salmonberries ripened, and eating the berries with fresh bright fish together was enjoyed throughout Salish Sea for thousands of years.
After the berries ripen, these brushy shrubs send up green shoots that look like asparagus and, if you peel of their skin carefully, you will be surprised at how sweet and tasty they are, a little like sugarcane! Many old-timers preferred the shoots to the berries, in fact. You only get good shoots if you chop back the old canes when you pick the berries, however! But remember the thorns, if you decide to taste fresh shoots. Peel first, then you can enjoy the sweet juicy core. Salmonberry wasn’t just a pretty and tasty treat; it has a long history of medical use from the treatment of diarrhea and dysentery to the management of burns and wounds with a poultice made from the leaves and bark, which contain astringent compounds (they make your mouth pucker and your skin tighten up).
The original Coast Salish peoples of the San Juan Islands called these berries Elile (eh-LEE-luh) which sounds like Lilek (“easy,” or “abundant”). And they are, scattered throughout the wetter parts of the islands, near ponds and streams. But this useful shrub is not cultivated, and as people build more homes, roads and farms, Salmonberries are getting harder to find. So, when you go out to nibble some of these juicy berries, consider leaving a few for the birds to eat. When birds eat berries, the seeds go right through them and can grow wherever those birds poop! Feeding the birds helps ensure the abundance of Salmonberries for many years to come.
Treasure Hunt #6
Spotted Coralroot
Corallorhiza maculata (“spotted coral-root”)
You’ve heard about orchids, right? They seem to be something exotic from the tropics, flowers that are very rare and special, collected by botanical gardens and nurtured in steamy hothouses. But did you know that we have native orchids that grow right here in the San Juan Islands? In fact, they are coming up and flowering right now, and you can find them in the forest growing in shaded soil among the older Douglas firs.
Some of our orchids have tiny white or green flowers that you can easily miss. But you cannot overlook our two species of Coralroot orchids – Spotted, and Striped – because they have large, showy spikes of white flowers with reddish markings on reddish-brown stems, all about a foot tall.
When you find a Coralroot, you may notice that something is missing from this plant. Look closely: it has no leaves! In fact, not one bit of the plant is green. It has no chlorophyll, and cannot photosynthesize. Chlorophyll in plants uses sunlight to make sugars, and plants use the sugars (like we do) for energy. Plants also use sugar to make cellulose, the building block for stems and leaves. So, what do Coralroots do for energy to grow?
Like many other orchids, Coralroots eat mushrooms. Not with a knife and fork, of course, but rather by sending their roots into the buried living fungal mat—the mycelium—and stealing the sugars the fungus is manufacturing from the soil for itself. These lovely wildflowers are actually parasites on some of the same species of “mycorrhizal” (“mushroom-root”) fungus that help trees grow. But trees seem to barter with their fungi. Orchids are not so generous.
And what about those pretty little red dots on Spotted Coralroot: what function do they serve? In many wildflowers, colorful dots or lines on flowers seem to fool bees and other insects into thinking that they will find delicious nectar and pollen inside. When they climb into the flower to check it out, they are disappointed: none there. But in the process, they have picked up a packet of sticky pollen on their fuzzy heads. Coralroots are sneaky that way, but they do not take chances. In addition to luring insects to their flowers, they self-pollinate. As a result, each patch of orchids is genetically pretty much the same, like sisters.
By the way, the ancient Greeks called coral korallion, which Latin-speaking Romans changed to corallium, and Romanized Celtic peoples shortened to the words we use in English, Spanish and French today. But what on earth has coral got to do with this strange, pretty orchid? Well, the Swiss botanist Abraham Gagnebin (1707-1800), who gave Coralroots their scientific name more than two hundred years ago, thought that the spiky, branching roots of these orchids looked like branching marine corals. (Please don’t dig up any Coralroots to see for yourself. Take our word: it’s silly.)
Clues: Look carefully along the sides of trails in old, shady conifer forests; for example, around Mount Constitution, Mount Woolard, and the west side of the Turtleback.
Treasure Hunt #5
Black-tailed bumblebee
Bombus melanopygus (“black-butted buzzer”) from the Greek bombos “buzzing,” melanos “black,” and pyge “buttocks”
Bzzzzzzz… something small and dark-colored sails past you, just a few feet off the ground, dipping and turning as it passes by flowers, and eventually seems to dive into the ground and disappear. Follow it carefully with your eyes, and if you are lucky you may see it land clumsily on a flower, so heavy that it may make the whole flower-stem bend over. Better yet, find a large, fresh flower (the best are purple, blue, rosy pink or bright yellow), sit quietly beside it and wait for a bumblebee to “dive bomb” it. You can safely watch bumblebees at work: they are preoccupied with collecting pollen and nectar to feed their daughters, and really only sting if picked up roughly. If you get too close, a bumblebee may lift one of its middle legs” as if to say “I’m busy here so bug off!”
At this time of year you will mostly see queens, which are very large, slow, and usually traveling alone. After spending the winter hibernating in a safe warm place beneath a log or rock, the queen emerges in early spring, scopes out the local flowers, and builds a nest of round waxy chambers buried in deep dark forest soil or hidden beneath a rockpile. The queen begins stockpiling pollen and nectar for her first set of eggs, which hatch and grow into a dozen or so daughters, all a bit smaller than the queen. The queen then takes her daughters out to show them where to find pollen-rich flowers. Then she retires to the job of laying more eggs and raising more daughters (and eventually a few sons), while her oldest daughters continue collecting pollen and nectar to bring back to the nest.
Bumblebees are clever. They can open folded flowers, stick their long tongues into flowers with small openings, and learn from watching other bees. They often “buzz pollinate” large flowers, vibrating so hard that they shake a cloud of pollen loose, emerging covered in pollen that they must comb off their fuzzy bodies with their brushy legs. They rarely bother other bees, but who would stick around a flower when a bumblebee ten times your size tries to land on it?
The Black-tailed bumblebee is one of the most common, widespread, and useful bumblebees in the San Juan Islands. Its fuzzy hair (setae) is mostly yellow, with some black and usually also some orange. But as its name suggests, its last abdominal segment (tergite)—what you might want to call the tip of its tail—is velvety black.
Treasure Hunt #4
Stair-step moss
Hylocomium splendens (“shining forest moss” from Greek hylos, “forest,” and Latin mnium, “moss” and splendens, “shining, glittering”)
Let’s take another walk in the woods! Look up at all of the towering trees, then down at the unfurling ferns and first spring growth of leafy shrubs. But what’s this soft carpet on the forest floor? It’s sparkly green with reddish stems, and just about everywhere. It’s commonly called “Stair-step”, an apt name for the unusual way this moss grows: it adds a feathery new branch or “step” to its stems each year. You can tell its age by counting the number of “steps”!
This lush moss is found on forest floors throughout the northern latitudes of North America, Europe, and Asia. It is “circumpolar,” and thrives in climates where winters are very cold and dark. In summer, it relies on the tree canopy to keep it cool and moist. If trees are cut down, Stair-step moss will dry up and disappear.
Go ahead and give it a little pat. Its fronds are soft and supple. Pretty comfy, right? Many other people would agree. Stair-step moss was long used to cover dirt floors and chink the cracks between logs in northern cabins. It has also been used for packaging fruit and adding greenery to flower displays. Take a moment to imagine yourself bundled up in a warm blanket on a thick bed of soft, springy Stair-step moss while the wind blows through Douglas fir and cedar trees over your head.
One thing it isn’t good for is food. Even deer don’t particularly like it, although they sometimes go ahead and eat it anyway if they are very hungry,
And you probably wouldn’t want to eat Stair-step moss even if it was truly delicious: this moss accumulates the metals in soil, including toxic metals such as lead. In polluted northern cities, Stair-step moss accumulates the metals in air pollution, and for this reason it has been used to monitor air quality. Because it is long-lived and generally not eaten by animals, Stair-step moss could be used to help clean up polluted soils, It might even make it possible to recycle lead and other metals that are pollution problems!
Treasure Hunt #3
STINGING NETTLES
Scientific name: Urtica dioica (“The burning one, made of two”)
Ouch! It’s nettle season, so be careful around these fresh new sprays of soft, fragrant, intensely green leaves. The stems and leaves of nettles are covered in very tiny stiff hollow hairs (called trichomes) filled with a phytochemical cocktail that includes oxalic acid, formic acid, histamine, and acetylcholine. A perfect combination to produce a rash, pain, and inflammation in the skin of careless mammals! Even a gentle touch is enough for trichomes to break our skin and inject their irritating contents.
It all makes sense. Nettles are some of the earliest plants to emerge in spring, when the islands are filled with hungry mammals that have not eaten fresh salad for months! From raccoons and deer to the smallest voles and deer mice, all have been waiting for the first flush of fresh green leaves. “Not so fast” say the nettles, giving themselves just enough protection that some of them will survive long enough to mature, flower, and form seeds.
Be careful, wear gloves, and you will find it’s worth the effort to pick some of the first nettles of spring when they are just a few inches tall. Sautéed in a little butter or oil, nettles have a richer flavor and softer texture than spinach, chard, or kale; and they are also packed with Vitamins A, C and E, as well as iron. All aboveground parts of the plant are edible—cooking eliminates their burning “sting”—but you should avoid the flowers or seeds, which can be strong tasting and have a laxative effect on some people. Native Coast Salish people not only ate nettles but deliberately grew very tall plants that they processed into a strong twine for sewing mats and clothing.
Oh yes, and this brings us to the rather strange sounding scientific name of this delicious plant-with-and-attitude. Urtica is easy. It’s just the Latin name for nettles. Different species than ours grew around the Mediterranean Sea in ancient times and the Romans ate them with gusto (and fish sauce). Urtica comes from the Latin verb urere, “to burn”. Simple enough. But the name of our North America nettle species, dioica, actually comes from dioikia in Greek, literally meaning “two different households”. This was a clever way of saying that our nettle species has separate male and female flowers.
The English word nettle is also very ancient, and can be traced to Germanic languages spoken in northern Europe during the Bronze Age. And of course, the indigenous people of the islands had a word for them. It’s pronounced tsuch-tsuch where the ch is raspy or guttural, in the back of your throat, like the way Scots pronounce the ch in the Scottish word loch (lake).
By any name, nettles are delicious. Don’t miss them! Here are some recipes, and you can share yours too!
Clues:
Nettles love damp, rich, shady soil and can be found in clearings in woodlands, often alongside roads and trails, generally in conspicuous patches. Don’t wait! Nettles grow early and very fast.
Treasure Hunt #2
BUFFLEHEAD
Scientific name: Bucephala albeola
Hey, look who’s back in the islands for the winter! It might just be the cutest little duck you ever did see: the bufflehead. The smallest diving duck species in North America, the bufflehead seems to lead quite the peaceful aquatic life of preening, bobbing along, and diving for snacks like larval insects and crustaceans. But each bufflehead you can find cruising around our lakes, ponds, and shallow bays during the winter made its way into life with a spectacular leap of faith...
After flying northward in late spring to the thawing lakes and ponds of the Canadian and Alaskan boreal forests, male and female buffleheads perform elaborate courtship dances, choose a mate, and search for a suitable summer territory to raise their babies. Luckily, momma bufflehead has scouted out just the place not too far from a pond to keep her nest safe: high off the ground inside a secret tree cavity. That’s right, her ducklings will be born away from water up in a tree cavity that was carved into a snag (a standing dead or dying tree) by another bird, where there is a good chance of remaining hidden from predators or other ducks looking to steal a nesting site. And although buffleheads have to compete with other cavity-nesting ducks like mergansers and goldeneyes for nesting cavities, she and the other momma buffleheads have an advantage...they can claim the especially small cavities made by Northern Flickers because only the wee bufflehead can fit through the 2- to 3-inch entrance!
Momma bufflehead will lay between 4 and a whopping 17 eggs in the cozy, downy-lined cavity, then patiently incubate them for around one month. But within a day or two of her brood hatching, she’s off and away to the ground, ready to return to life on the water with her new family. The newborn ducklings have no choice but to follow, whether the jump from the nest is 10 feet, or 50 feet! One by one, the brave little ducklings peep out of the nest to the ground below, hearing momma bufflehead calling to them nearby, and summon the courage to leap into the unknown...
But not to worry! Though they are flightless and very clumsy, each of them weighs little more than a handful of feathers. And so, flapping and flailing, the tiny ducklings almost glide to the soft forest floor. As soon as all are accounted for, momma bufflehead leads the way, her ducklings trailing behind her, to the pond where they will spend the coming weeks learning the bufflehead way of life.
When the summer draws to an end, the time comes to migrate south before the waterways freeze over and limit available food. The buffleheads will fly by night to avoid predators, taking favorable winds, towards their wintering grounds--perhaps eventually settling right here on Orcas Island.
Clues:
During winter, buffleheads can sometimes be found on our ponds, lakes, and shallow bays. Luckily on Orcas, there are a handful of publically accessible lakes and a particularly large shallow bay with a public beach to check! Buffleheads are noticeably smaller than many other ducks feeding in the area, and are graceful frequent divers. Males and females have different plumage patterns (see photos), so keep an eye out for both. Some lookalike duck species, especially hooded mergansers, are frequently found in the same sites. If you can, borrow a pair of binoculars for this one! The Orcas Island Library has Birding Backpacks you can check out that have kid sized binoculars, guides, and games.
*Final Note: A handful of nature documentaries have featured fantastically-produced footage of ducklings of cavity-nesting species making their big leap from the nest. Here’s one clip by PBS of a hooded merganser nest to enjoy!
Treasure Hunt #1
ORANGE JELLY FUNGUS
Scientific name: Dacrymyces chrysospermis (“golden-seeded teardrops mushroom”)
What looks like someone squirted apricot jelly on rotting logs and branches in the forest in the middle of the winter? It’s the Orange Jelly Fungus, and its soft gelatinous lobes are covered in tiny yellow-orange spores that the rain will spread to nearby trees and grow more Orange Jelly next year! What you see is just the “fruit” of the fungus. Its mycelium is spread out inside the dead tree, like the roots of a plant, breaking down the wood for food. Wood is largely made of cellulose, which is a polysaccharide—that is, it is made up of chains of simple sugar molecules. The fungal mycelium breaks the cellulose back down to sugars that the fungus can “eat”. And it gets even more interesting: If you look closely at Orange Jelly Fungus, you may see its edges seem to be melting. That’s because another jelly fungus, called Tremella, is eating the Orange Jelly right before your eyes! A lot of fungi eat other fungi, changing their color and texture.
Speaking of eating, all of our jelly fungi—including this one—are edible, but boring. They taste like soft, unflavored gelatin (or unsweetened plain Jello). Fungi don’t mind your eating their fruit, which include “mushrooms” as well as Orange Jelly. Like tiny seeds, the spores go right through your digestive system, alive. If you were a raccoon or a squirrel eating Orange Jelly, you would “plant” its spores everywhere you went to poop, for days!
The bright orange color of this fungus comes from beta-carotene, the same chemical compound that gives carrots their orange color. In plants, beta-carotene absorbs light for photosynthesis, and acts like a sunscreen, protecting the plant’s cells from being damaged by too much sunlight. What beta-carotene is doing in fungi (which don’t photosynthesize, of course) is a bit of a mystery. Some scientists think it may function as an anti-oxidant in fungi, like Vitamin E in humans and other mammals.
Clues:
Orange Jelly Fungus grows on wet dead wood in the winter—when the woody debris on the forest floor is sopping wet! It grows on many different kinds of trees, but especially likes our Douglas Firs, and sometimes also eats the remains of cedars, alders and maples. Nothing else should have the same bright orange color and gelatinous texture!
What to do when you find a treasure:
You found an Orcas Treasure!
Take a picture
Take some notes
Write down questions you have about what you found
Now add it to the Treasure Map
log into a Google account
open the Orcas Biodiversity Treasure Map
Click on the Edit link.
Zoom or manipulate the map to find the spot where you found the treasure
Select the Add Marker icon at the top
Place the marker at the right spot
Type the type of treasure (“orange jelly fungus” for example)
Type the date you spotted the treasure
Type your name if you want to (or make one up, you can also leave it blank)
Type in any details about your treasure you want to share from your notes
Type in your questions about the treasure (leave the answers field blank)
Upload a picture (or more) of your treasure that you want to share (click on the photo link below and to the right of the description).
Save your entry. If it is in the wrong location you can select cancel, delete it (trash can icon), and start over.
6. Check back to see if we’ve answered your questions.
7. Start looking for more Orcas Treasures!