Author: Anne Ibbotson Image: Anne during a survey night in the Watagan Mountains I have been incredibly fortunate to be a part of an amazing project where we are putting research into practice to help create habitat for the endangered Littlejohn’s tree frog. This gorgeous tree frog with its bronze speckled body and bright orange thighs is isolated to only three remaining populations - the Watagans, Woronora plateau and the Blue Mountains. With the Blue Mountains population badly affected by the 2019/2020 megafires, the Woronora plateau population under threat from longwall mining, safeguarding the Watagans population is critical for the survival of the species. Image: Littlejohn's tree frog As part of my industry engaged PhD pathway I have been doing an internship with Forestry NSW, which is funding and undertaking the habitat creation project. We have a wonderful team of people working on this project from both Forestry NSW and the Conservation Science Research Group at The University of Newcastle. We are passionate about using research findings to make evidence-based decisions so that we are creating not only habitat, but the right type of habitat for the species. To give this species the best chance at survival Forestry NSW are creating a series of ponds to act as stepping stones to help connect genetically isolated populations of frogs across the Watagans. This should help combat the high levels of inbreeding that Nadine Nolan, a Conservation Science Research Group member, uncovered in her PhD research. Inbreeding in frogs, like in other animals can impact health and survival. The ponds will be placed a few hundred metres apart and close by to existing ponds inhabited by the species. They will provide additional breeding habitat and create moist refuges to help the movement of frogs across the landscape. These ponds will help connect previously isolated populations and ultimately improve the genetics and health of this critical Watagan population. Images: Construction of ponds as a refuge for the species We are now most of the way through the pond construction and they are looking amazing! With thoughtful excavation vegetation has been retained to minimise disturbance and provide habitat. The ponds have also been lined to ensure they retain water, which is especially important as the Littlejohn’s tree frog has a long 6 to 12 month tadpole stage. There are still lots of plants to put in the ground, and we’re creating information boards and signs to help engage the community and promote awareness. A lovely surprise was finding Littlejohn’s tadpoles in water pooling on a 4WD track we plan to close to create the ponds.

Author: Alex Callen I love my research, but I probably don’t eat and breathe it as much as younger researchers do. As a conservation scientist my research frequently takes me into the field, and I am fortunate to have spent many nights tracking animals under starry skies (or rainy skies, or a blanket of fog). And that is my happy place. But being a mum and wife is my other happy place (I am lucky to have two happy places), and I try really hard to balance family time and research time. I mostly fail dismally at this struggle juggle, and instead swing like a pendulum trying to give both my research and family what they need. I often get asked how I do it; My answer is always the same- not very well. Being a researcher (whose study subject – frogs - largely requires nighttime work) and a mother (whose family largely requires daytime attention as well as nighttime affection) means I feel like I am trying to keep many balls in the air, minus the skill and training of a juggler. So the lines of research and family can get blurred as you absorb yourself in both. I know I am not alone in this dilemma. Here’s a sad and sorry example exemplified by the wonders of modern technology – The other day Google photos sent me a notification of a collection of photos (‘Memories’) it had compiled under the title of ‘Underwater Adventures’. I got quite excited. I was having a bad day – the tech had failed in my lecture, our captive animals were not doing so well, the kid’s school had phoned and my emails were mounting up quicker than a line of hungry undergrad students at a free Uni BBQ. These Google ‘Memories’ offered a moment of escape in my frenetic world. I opened the Google ‘Memories’ quickly. In my mind I was already seeing snapshots of our last (long ago) family holiday to Queensland snorkeling off Moreton Island, or Li-Loing down a creek in the Daintree Forest; the kids attempting surfing with their school friends on our annual beach camping trip on the NSW North Coast; paddle boarding and kayaking on the clear and magical saltwater lake close to home. You know – turquoise water and white sandy beaches kind of stuff. Those things are truly part of my life – I swear. But that’s not what Google Photos had in mind when it trawled my photos and collated the ‘Underwater Adventures’ album. I was instead presented with a reel of photos that comprised muddy puddles, frogs in wetlands and streams at night, frogs in tanks, people in waders, dip nets, tadpoles, macroinvertebrates, pond construction and, one lonely photo of myself and a colleague snorkeling off the coast of New Caledonia with frog bags (as a joke, because ironically, we spent our evenings in New Caledonia in a muddy wetland studying an invasive frog species that was threatened back home). Only the latter photo bore any resemblance to an ‘Underwater Adventure’ I would feel was worthy of a trip down memory lane. Google’s Photo ‘Memories’ had captured my most frequent work photos and interpreted them as something I would like to see more of. It appears I have more research-related photos worthy of the ‘Underwater Adventures’ category than recreational family adventures. Hardly worthy of Mother of the Year Award. And while I have watched my academic mentors (Fathers) seemingly magically master this delicate balance of the twin peaks of their life, I am yet to achieve it myself. And maybe I never will. My family does not resonate with Peppa Pig, and my daughter is not Princess Fiona from Shrek. I may as well be the only Einstein of the Swamps in my family and that’s ok. Because maybe I don’t want any more donkeys in my swamp.

Author: Rose Upton Littlejohn's tree frog being swabbed for chytrid fungus. This week we are very excited to see our newest publication released, titled, Towards an integrated approach to amphibian conservation: a case study of the Littlejohn’s tree frog (Litoria littlejohni) . This article, published in the Australian Zoologist , accompanied a presentation made by Dr Rose Upton to the NSW chapter of the Royal Society of Zoology in September last year, within a one-day Forum on The Next Generation of Australian Zoologists: Bold Visions for the Future . Many members of the CSRG have contributed their expertise in order to illustrate our multidisciplinary approach to conserving threatened wildlife. We also give an update on how we are using each technique, such as sperm biobanking, genetic monitoring and pond creation to help conserve Littlejohn’s tree frog, as a case study. Our integrated approach combines both In situ  and Ex situ  techniques, including population monitoring, understanding disease dynamics, captive breeding, translocations and headstarting of individuals, as well as biotechnological approaches such as assisted reproductive technologies, genetic analysis and management and development of minimally-invasive biomarkers. While much of the research detailed is ongoing (such is often the case with adaptive management), we are excited to share our results so far, and our thoughts on how this could be applied to other species globally. Check it out here: https://doi.org/10.7882/AZ.2024.035 CSRG members - Sam, Rose, Phil, Nadine and Anne, contributing authors of the paper

Author: Rose Upton From the 5th - 9th of August the CSRG headed to Kuching in the Sarawak region of Borneo for the 10th World Congress of Herpetology. Among them, Dr Rose Upton and Dr Kaya Klop-toker, participated in the symposium, “Developing Global Collaborations for Amphibian Biobanking and Genetic Management”. This exciting symposium was organized and hosted by Dr Gina Della-Tonga and Dr Natalie Calatyud of the Amphibian Survival Alliance, whom our group has recently partnered with. Rose spoke about the integrated conservation approaches, combing  In situ  and Ex situ  management of species, including biobanking sperm from endangered species, and spoke on behalf of PhD student, Anne Ibbtoson about her exciting new research developing minimally invasive biomarkers for assessing amphibian health. Kaya spoke on behalf of PhD student, Nadine Nolan on her work investigating the effect of season on Littlejohn’s tree frog sperm quality. While Dr Alex Callen and Dr John Clulow could not attend, they were both integral in helping push these projects to fruition and their presence was missed. In the spirit of the event, we were able to catch up with long time collaborators and colleagues from the United States, Panama, and Scotland. We also made new friends from Canada, New Zealand, the United States and even Australia. Also attending the symposium was Professor Michael Mahony and PhD student Krishna Pavan Komanduri. We had exciting discussions on progress, gaps and priorities for movement in this field, with plans to write a white paper based on the discussions held there.

Author: James Wong Image: Jim ready to sample some fishes in Kingston Lagoon at Norfolk Island.  A quick disclaimer and a preface – I’m a fish scientist studying reef-associated fishes, so the focus of this post is on the role of subtropical reefs as it pertains to fishes. And if you’re wondering why I switch between ‘fish’ and ‘fishes’: ‘fish’ is the correct plural when referring to multiple individuals of a single species, while ‘fishes’ refers to multiple species. **Fish** - 🐟 **Fish** - 🐟🐟🐟 **Fishes** - 🐟🐠🐡 Image: The Spot-fin Porcupinefish ( Diodon hystrix ) is a species of Tetraodontid porcupinefish that is found circumglobally including in temperate NSW. They can get up to 90cm - pretty huge! Now, back to the program – subtropical reefs. We often think of the ocean in a binary way – warm or cold. Reefs are typically viewed as tropical ecosystems bursting with life and diversity, much like a big, salty, underwater rainforest teeming with fishes. On the other hand, temperate ecosystems, such as those found along coastal southeastern Australia, are dominated by rocky structures and kelp forests. But in between these extremes lie subtropical reefs. Subtropical reefs generally occur between **23°-35° latitude**, both north and south of the equator. They are characterized by lower annual mean temperatures and greater daily temperature fluctuations than tropical reefs. You can find them in places like Japan, Hong Kong, Florida, and right here in Australia, at Lord Howe and Norfolk Island—where I’m conducting PhD research on fishes. These environmental differences make subtropical coral reefs unique. The temperature variability affects coral growth processes, influencing how they build their skeletons. This impacts not only how fast the reefs grow but also their structural complexity, including relief, dominant taxa, and overall biodiversity. But why does this matter? If a reef has a different shape or structure, what difference does it make? Just as the diversity and ecological roles supported by an old-growth forest differ from those in a sparse shrubland, we see similar patterns in fish assemblages on reefs. The structure of a reef influences which fishes are present and how they interact with the ecosystem. Subtropical reefs may also respond differently to disturbances like coral bleaching, just as different forest types respond differently to wildfires. The ecological niches supported by a reef determine which species can survive there. Most fishes start life as planktonic larvae, drifting over vast distances. If they arrive at a suitable habitat, they can settle, thrive, and establish populations. However, many larvae perish due to unfavorable conditions—such as water that's too cold to survive the winter, insufficient reef structure to avoid predators, or the absence of specific corals or algae they depend on for food. Image: The Toadstool Grouper ( Trachypoma macracanthus ) is a species of Serranid grouper found in the South Pacific, including the Lord Howe Island group. They're also called strawberry rockcod because of their red colour and spots. Subtropical reefs, positioned between tropical and temperate zones, provide critical habitats for ‘tropical vagrants’—fishes that stray into cooler waters. These reefs offer a place to settle and potentially establish breeding populations, enabling range expansions into more temperate climates. As oceans continue to warm, more species will be able to overwinter in higher latitudes. Subtropical reefs thus act as ecological 'stepping stones,' facilitating the gradual expansion of species further south. Over time, these reefs may become source populations, impacting temperate ecosystems and reshaping local species assemblages. No ecosystem exists in isolation—everything is interconnected, and, as they say, life finds a way. In summary, subtropical reefs serve as important refuges for species undergoing range expansions in response to a warming ocean. This process, in turn, influences temperate ecosystems. Beyond their ecological importance, these reefs support local economies, deepen our understanding of reef function, and provide insights into coral biology at the edges of their natural ranges. However, my primary focus is on the fish side of things—what I get to study for my PhD. Specifically, I’m researching the fish assemblages at Norfolk Island, examining how these communities change over time and space, how coral-eating fishes responded to a recent bleaching event, and investigating some behavioral and trophic ecology dynamics—but those are stories for another day. Thanks for reading along 😊 – Jim Image: The Blackback Butterflyfish ( Chaetodon melannotus ) is a corallivorous fish and found in the Red Sea and Indo-Pacific. They're unusual amongst corallivores by being specialists on soft corals which can be quite toxic.

Author: Jacob Jones I have always been interested in the natural world. When I was growing up, I wanted to be a palaeontologist travelling the world in search of dinosaurs. That dream then evolved into wanting to be a volcanologist, although I quickly talked myself out of that in after a series of news articles in the early 2000’s about the Yellowstone supervolcano in the U.S. However, ever since I have had a deep fascination of the nuts and bolts of Earths systems, both ecological and geological. When I finished school in a small country town and moved to Newcastle, NSW second largest city, to study environmental engineering. I learned chemistry, physics, and maths in my early years which laid the foundations for water engineering, hydrology and catchment management in the later years. I was fortunate enough to score a job at a local consultancy in contamination and remediation: a big industry in post-industrial Newcastle. However, I had always felt a stronger desire to help people, rather than corporations (sorry to all my consultancy friends out there!). So, I used the skills I had learned to get a job at the Newcastle Council as a graduate engineer. Over five years I was able to work in stormwater management, waste management, coastal management, and environmental planning, while serving my community. I never knew just how connected the environment was almost all aspects of our society. It was here, despite my long interests in ecology and geology, I encountered possibly the most important of Earths system: social-ecological systems. The connection between people and the environment. The way culture, politics, economics, and history shape the way we manage and relate to nature. Whether that is constructing wind farms, nourishing an eroding beach with sand, or clearing a forest for a highway. All these management decisions are made by people with beliefs and values about social-ecological systems. To me, it is clear that understanding the association between people and the environment is essential to preserving the planet that filled me with wonder as a child. So, after years of thinking, I decided to leave my job to return to university to peruse my PhD on the politics of biodiversity conservation. Now, I am developing skills to understand how people, governments and organisations interact with nature and biodiversity. I hope to understand better how to promote the conservation of nature to audiences regardless of the political beliefs. At the moment, I think I would like to return to government to influence environmental policy. However, reflecting on my fortune of working in so many different environmental fields in a relatively short career, I know to expect the unexpected. A career in the environment is both challenging and rewarding in unique ways. There is nothing quite like it.

Author: Jasmine Clarkson Exciting research is underway at the CSRG to monitor the reintroduction of Mixophyes australis  (M. australis), or the Southern Stuttering Frog, to Royal National Park in NSW! Supervisors Dr. Chad Beranek and Dr. Alex Callen, along with Honours student Jasmine Clarkson, are partnering with Symbio Wildlife Park, NSW National Parks, and the Department of Climate Change, Energy, Environment, and Water to release roughly 30 juvenile captive-bred frogs at two locations within Royal National Park. Several key reasons highlight the importance of this research and monitoring effort. M. australis  was recently genetically identified as a distinct species after being split from Mixophyes balbus  (the stuttering frog; more on that research can be found here) While Mixophyes balbus  inhabits areas north of the Macleay River (covering Gumbainggir and Bundjalung countries on the mid-north to north coast of NSW), M. australis  historically ranged from south of the Macleay River to the Cann River catchment of eastern Victoria (Biripi, Worimi, Darkinjung, Dharug, Dharawal, Kurnai, and Bidwel nations). However, M. australis  has not been recorded in any sites south of Sydney for over 30 years and is considered extinct in the state of Victoria. Reintroducing M. australis  to Royal National Park in southern Sydney is crucial for the conservation of the species and for preserving their historic range across southeastern Australia. (Image from S. Mahony via frogid.net.au ) The two locations chosen for the release of M. australis  will provide valuable insights into the species' habitat preferences and help determine whether there is environmental resistance to chytrid fungus. Chytrid disease, a fungal skin infection, has been linked to the decline of numerous amphibian species. It causes illness and infection in frogs. We have selected a rainforest interior site and a rainforest-sclerophyll woodland site for the release. Once the frogs are released, our team will radio-track them for two weeks to monitor any movement outside the selected sites, which could suggest a preference for different habitat conditions. During the rest of our fieldwork, we will be capturing, measuring, swabbing for chytrid, and re-releasing the frogs several nights a week to test for differences in the presence of chytrid between the two sites. This research could provide critical information for developing future protocols on the reintroduction of captive-bred amphibian populations and their ability to successfully reinhabit areas where their species has disappeared. Keep an eye on this blog to stay updated as our research progresses!

Author: Siosina Katoa Taula Island - Tonga, located in the far south of the Vava'u Group in the north of the country. Tonga is a small island nation in the South Pacific Ocean, and if it’s hard to picture where it’s situated, it’s above New Zealand, across Australia, next to Fiji. It has 169 islands where residents inhabit 45. The country is divided into four main island groups: 1: Tongatapu group is the main island and the most populous out of the four; 2; Ha’apai group, a cluster of low-lying islands with stunning beaches; 3; Vava’u group, the second most populated island and famous for whale watching and a tourist’s favorite place to visit. The last is the Niuas group, the northernmost island that is a 2-hour flight away from Tongatapu.   My research involves collecting environmental DNA from isolated islands in Vava’u to assess biodiversity. Years ago, rats were eradicated from 3 of these islands. Unfortunately, financial constraints limited follow-up efforts. Here is where I step in.   The adventure begins with a 1-hour flight from Tongatapu to Vava’u in a quaint 12-seat plane almost the same age as me. The real expedition begins after touching down at the nearest airport (the only airport in Vava’u) to the sites. Every morning at 8 a.m., we board a medium-sized steel boat bound for the islands. The timing was crucial as high tide is our window of opportunity. If we miss it, low tide will trap us on the reefs, making the journey to our sampling sites nearly impossible. It took us 45 minutes to 1 hour to get to our destination and back every day.    We collected samples from 6 isolated islands and did sampling at three sites per island, with six 1L replicates per site. So, if we collect samples from 1 island daily, we’d take back 180L of seawater in an ice-cube-filled eski to be filtered. If we try to cover two islands daily, that’s double the weight to carry plus the eski of ice, and you do the math. Our small boat could only take a limited weight capacity, and we were already heavy enough to be on board.  Some days, we’d take only two people to help, plus the captain of the boat, and other days, just one to do the sampling. We removed the seawater and filtered these in a designated small space in our accommodation as we don’t have laboratories on the island. Over 13 days, we collected and filtered 1080 Liters of seawater (using a 50ml syringe), packed them, and sent them off for analysis.   Filtering eDNA samples, with the help of caulking guns! The challenge lay in the logistics of reaching and navigating these remote islands and having limited resources to aid us in the process. Yet, the reward came from uncovering what exists (a load of species) on these islands and the satisfaction of completing this task. Fieldwork in Tonga is not for the faint-hearted, but the combination of challenges and opportunities makes it a remarkable experience. For those willing to embrace the journey, the rewards offer a profound reminder of the wonders beyond the beaten path.  Siosina with a water sample.

Author: Molly Grew Drone shot of Stingrays in Burrill Lake, NSW. Stingrays, often admired for their graceful movements, play a vital role in maintaining marine ecosystems. One of their key contributions is bioturbation, the process of reworking sediments in their environment. As stingrays forage for food, such as polychaetes, molluscs, and crustaceans, they disturb the sediment, creating feeding pits that can last for weeks. This activity not only enhances oxygen penetration into deeper sediment layers but also recycles nutrients into the water column and much more.  Quantifying the impact of stingray bioturbation is challenging, but recent research has advanced our understanding. My recent PhD research, published in Remote Sensing in Ecology and Conservation, is the first to combine drones, aerial imagery, and 3D modelling to map benthic topography and identify stingray feeding pits on intertidal and subtidal sandflats. By conducting daily drone surveys in the Brisbane Water estuary, we measured the volume of sediment displaced by stingrays, revealing that these small creatures move an impressive 21,000 tonnes of sediment annually – a greater mass than the Great Sphinx of Giza.  However, declining ray populations due to overfishing, habitat loss, and climate change threaten this important ecological process. With many species at risk of extinction, the reduction in bioturbation could lead to a loss of essential ecosystem services, potentially causing cascading effects throughout the food web. Understanding and protecting the ecological roles of stingrays is crucial for maintaining the health of our marine environments.    Link to my publication below: https://zslpublications.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/rse2.411   Stingray in Wallis Lake.

Ever since primary school, I've been captivated by bugs. Growing up in an isolated suburb without peers my age, I spent my time hunting bugs, feeding and trying to tame them, and creating small shelters for them using toy building blocks. One vivid memory I have, is of picking up a velvet ant, which gave me a nasty sting. My whole arm swelled up, and my mum initially thought it was a snake bite. I had to give an in-depth description of what had bitten me. Fast forward 18 years from that sting, I began my first degree and devoted my Honours year to studying bugs. These creatures make up a significant portion of the world's biodiversity, yet they are often underappreciated, especially where I come from. Moving to Australia from Zimbabwe for my PhD has deepened my appreciation for this field and its immense potential for citizen science. Invertebrate studies offer a unique opportunity for both scientists and non-scientists to discover new species, as there are more undescribed than described bugs out there. This field is easy to understand because the benefits of invertebrates are intertwined with our daily lives. Invertebrates are not just spineless bugs or creepy crawlies; they are pollinators, bioindicators, decomposers, and ecosystem engineers. I hope my story inspires someone to grab their camera, explore their backyard, and perhaps discover a new, undescribed bug, earning a place in the science hall of fame. Author: Ashton Goronga

Image: Mattea Taylor Shorebirds are a fascinating group of mostly coastal birds. Fairly small, grey-brown, and skittish, they’re not the type you’d expect to fly tens of thousands of kilometres from Australia to the farthest parts of Russia and Alaska and back every year. These summer-chasing birds hold world records for their flying feats ( https://birdlife.org.au/news/bar-tailed-godwit-breaks-record/ ) and are considered extreme endurance athletes. To make these incredible journeys, shorebirds spend the Australian summer eating as much as they possibly can, storing all this energy as fat, which they then burn rapidly as they speed north to breed. Most of their food lives in the mud—things like crabs, shrimp, snails, and polychaete worms—which can only be accessed during low tide, when the mud is exposed. During high tide, shorebirds often have no choice but to find somewhere safe to rest until the tide recedes and they can feed again. These “roost” sites are often beaches or saltmarshes, and sometimes piers or oyster poles. Shorebirds tend not to like roosting near trees or tall shrubs. It’s thought that this is because trees block their view and could leave them more vulnerable to predation. In Australia, the main predators of shorebirds are birds of prey like eagles and kites that patrol the skies around the shores. Shorebirds kick their flight response into overdrive when they feel threatened, using their Top Gun-esque flying skills to evade capture. This is termed a disturbance (or alarm) flight. Flocks take off quickly, together, moving in unison, rapidly twisting, turning, rising, and falling. It is quite a mesmerising and fantastic sight to witness, and photographers often love to capture such moments. Image: Mattea Taylor Unfortunately, it also burns a lot of the energy that the shorebirds have been building up for migration. Too many disturbance flights and the shorebirds might not have enough energy to complete their migration journey. This could mean they might not survive the journey, might not have enough energy to breed successfully once they arrive up north, or might not leave for migration that year at all. Shorebirds aren’t only disturbed by birds of prey. They react to anything they think might be a threat, including people, dogs, and noisy machines like boats or planes. Adding a human element of disturbance to the natural disturbance already present can magnify the effects on shorebirds and make it more likely that they won’t have the energy they need to successfully migrate. When around shorebirds at high tide, it is important to move slowly and give them a wide berth to respect their space and their need for rest. This topic of disturbance forms part of my PhD research in the Hunter Estuary, NSW. I observed shorebird behaviour at various sites during high tide, recording the levels of human and natural disturbances and shorebird flight responses to determine the extent to which shorebirds are disturbed in this estuary. That’s for another blog. Here, I wanted to highlight the importance of giving resting shorebirds space so they can preserve their energy for another day. Their quick aerobatic flights may look fantastic but could potentially be fatal. Author: Mattea Taylor

The Black Summer bushfires that occurred in Australia from September 2019 to February 2020 can be marked as a turning point regarding our nations understanding of fire.  17 billion hectares of Australian land was burnt, and it was estimated that over one billion animals perished (Dickman, 2021). Years after this disaster, experts are still grappling with the full extent and impacts this event had on the natural world. This situation left many questioning whether this environmental emergency could have been prevented, and if we are truly in touch with our country.  Satellite image of fires burning and smoke in NSW, November 9th, 2019 - Source: https://theconversation.com/australias-black-summer-of-fire-was-not-normal-and-we-can-prove-it-172506 Having spent my honours year researching the effects of fire-fighting chemicals on amphibian health, development, growth and behaviour, I have always had a natural interest in fire ecology and methods of fire prevention. This led me to delve into the subject of fires in Australia, guiding me to a book that truly changed my perspective.  Victor Steffensen is an Indigenous filmmaker, musician and consultant that applies traditional knowledge in a contemporary context. His book Fire Country,  tells the story of how he learnt about traditional burning techniques from two elders, Dr Tommy George (TG) and Dr George Musgrave (Poppy). The book provides a guide to reading the country, resulting in finding natural indicators in the landscape for ideal time for burns to occur in a range of Australian habitats. Victor possesses critical and invaluable knowledge, with more than 27 years of experience in Indigenous fire management, and the revival of these practices are needed now more than ever.  Watch the link below to learn more about Victor and his extensive expertise on indigenous fire management:  Author: Kate Tunstill Dickman, C.R., 2021. Ecological consequences of Australia's “Black Summer” bushfires: Managing for recovery.  Integrated Environmental Assessment and Management ,  17 (6), pp.1162-1167.