Field Book Project

A World Apart: Smithsonian Expeditions to Alaska and Liberia

By Greg Palumbo

Since joining the Field Book Project team to assist in the cataloging efforts, I have been primarily tasked with helping further develop the 100+ expedition records in the registry. I found myself researching and writing about expeditions taking place across the entire globe, and spanning two centuries. I began noticing that some of the Smithsonian’s most influential members were out in the field at the same time, but having vastly different experiences.

In 1940, two such expeditions set out to conduct work of a scientific nature. While taking place at the same time, and done in the name of science, these two expeditions were worlds apart. In fact, they were separated by over 7,500 miles!

Distance between Kodiak, Alaska and Montserrado, Liberia. See the full-size map here: http://distancecalculator.globefeed.com/World_Distance_Result.asp?fromplace=Kodiak%20(Alaska,Kodiak%20Island%20Borough,US)&toplace=Monrovia%20(Montserrado,Liberia)&fromlat=57.79&tolat=6.3105556&fromlng=-152.4072222&tolng=-10.8047222

The Smithsonian-Firestone Expedition to Liberia and the Alaska King Crab Expedition highlight two of the Smithsonian’s most noteworthy figures, Dr. Waldo L. Schmitt and William Mann. Each took the lead on their respective expedition, and their stories provide great insight into the range and reach of field work being done by members of the Institution.

Canoe Bay, Alaska, Crab cages, September 22, 1940 during Alaskan King Crab Expedition. Smithsonian Institution Archives. RU 0007231. Box 123. SIA2013-00635.

Dr. Schmitt, Curator of the Division of Marine Invertebrates at the U.S. National Museum, was in the frigid waters of Alaska, where the average temperature is around 30° F during February and -- according to Schmitt --“warm when it reached 38°.” He was taking part in the Alaskan King Crab Expedition to study crab and the fishing industry in the vicinity of Aleutian Islands. The goal was to identify crab concentrations in the region, and fishing methods needed to create a self-sustaining U.S. King Crab industry.

Meanwhile, William Mann, Superintendent and Director of the National Zoological Park, was in the West African nation of Liberia. Mann was invited to the region and sought to collect live animals to add to the National Zoo’s collection. Pigmy hippos, several species of small antelopes, monkeys, rare birds, and reptiles were obtained by the expedition. Unlike Alaska, the average temperature most of the year is around 75° F in the capital city, Monrovia, and daily temps can reach well into the 90’s.

While Schmitt wandered his way around the Aleutian Islands in less than ideal conditions, the Mann’s set out on a personal safari through Western Africa. They stayed in resort like conditions at the private plantation of the Firestone Company in Harbel, and were treated like royals during their stay in Liberia.

 

 

William and Lucile Mann cross River during Firestone Expedition to Liberia, 1940 with assistance. Smithsonian Institution Archives RU 0007293. Box 19. Folder 18. SIA2013-06637.	William Mann and Ralph Norris with pygmy hippo during Firestone Expedition to Liberia, 1940. Smithsonian Institution Archives RU 0007293. Box 19. Folder 18. SIA2013-06638.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lucile Mann, who accompanied her husband on many of his collecting trips, wrote a very detailed account about their journey to Africa. Mrs. Mann’s journal from the expedition reads like a travel guide through Liberia, and aboard a ‘cruise’ ship that brought them from New York to the west coast of Africa: a day by day account of meals, living quarters, the local population’s activities, and the animals which she and her husband collected for the National Zoo.  At one point saying, “This has been a day of parties.” The Manns were treated to “elaborate” meals and carried around the Liberian interior riding in hammocks instead of walking. Their trip received considerable press coverage and played out more like a social event rather than a scientific expedition.

Canoe Bay, Alaska, Catch of the Day, September 26, 1940 during Alaskan King Crab Expedition. Smithsonian Institution Archives. RU 0007231. Box 123. SIA2013-00636.

On the opposite side of the globe, Waldo Schmitt was partaking in a not so similar type of outing. Calling parts of his Alaskan King Crab Expedition a “nightmare”, his diary from the trip presents an image of continuous rain and dreary days. He described conditions aboard his ship saying, “This was about the dirtiest, tracked-up, filthy vessel I ever set foot upon.” Far from the luxury afforded to the Mann’s, Schmitt’s expedition seemed the antithesis. On October 1st he wrote, “We had run dreadfully short of water Monday… There was scarcely enough yesterday for a bath out of a bucket – that’s how we wash, real old-fashioned sailor style, and washing clothes was out of the question.”

These two particular expeditions provide a fascinating glimpse of the field work being done by members of the Smithsonian Institution. While different in many ways, they both represent the unique experiences and groundbreaking scientific inquiries that have produced lasting documentation in the form of field books. While researching these two trips I couldn’t help but think about the incredible enthusiasm that both Waldo Schmitt and the Manns had for scientific discovery. These expeditions were neither their first nor last time out in the field, and even though they had very dissimilar journeys, I’m confident that they were ultimately delighted with the experience.

Flash! Fish Collections

Portion of the fish collected by Waldo Schmitt off the coast of Matiti Island, Tikahau, 1957. Collected during the Smithsonian-Bredin Society Islands Expedition. SIA2012-0652.

Page scans for hundreds of Smithsonian field books now online!

By Carolyn Sheffield, Project Manager

The Field Book Project is pleased to announce that page scans for over 200 of the cataloged Smithsonian field books are now available online through the Smithsonian’s Collection Search Center: http://collections.si.edu/search/results.htm?tag.cstype=all&q=unit_code%3AFBR&fq=online_media_type:%22Electronic+resource%22.  Additionally, over 300 new records have been added since the field book records were launched in December. 

Although the project started out as a cataloging initiative in 2010, we recognized early on the need for not just remote access to the catalog records but also to the rich and varied content found in field books.  Starting with a grant from the Smithsonian Women’s Committee, and continuing with the ongoing efforts of the Smithsonian Institution Archives’ Digital Services, we are thrilled to begin seeing this goal realized.

Cover of the Albatross logbook, Hawaiian exploration #1, Mch 14-31, 1902, dr 3791 - dr 3819, hy 4035 - hy 4052. SIA RU 7184.	Page from the Albatross logbook, Hawaiian exploration #1, Mch 14-31, 1902, dr 3791 - dr 3819, hy 4035 - hy 4052. SIA RU 7184.

The page scans that are now online provide great representation of the variety of topics and formats that field books can take.  For starters, there are numerous ship logs from the Albatross documenting voyages in the 19^th and 20^th centuries.   Built in 1882, the Albatross was one of the first large vessels designed specifically for marine research. The Albatross logbooks contain a wealth of information, not just about species, but about weather and other environmental conditions at the time.  As demonstrated by projects like OldWeather, ship log data can be extremely useful for understanding historic climate patterns and helping scientists model projections.  If you dig old ships and marine biodiversity, check out our earlier post on the Albatross collection: http://nmnh.typepad.com/fieldbooks/2012/10/new-uses-for-old-books.html.

Some of the other field books now online provide a look into terrestrial research.  From herpetologist James A. Peters, you can get a sense of what it was like to conduct field work in Mexico in 1949 and read detailed descriptions of some of the specimens he saw.  Peters' Field Notes: Mexico, 1949  also includes a bit of an unexpected treat--a sketch of a horse and buggy can be found inserted between his pages of notes.

Sketch of a horse and cart, insert in James A. Peters' Field Notes: Mexico, 1949. SIA RU 7175.

Page from James A. Peters' Field Notes: Mexico, 1949. SIA RU 7175.

Harrison G. Dyar’s field books, or “blue books”, are some of my personal favorites and several of these are also now available.  These include detailed notes on his daily observations and frequently include sketches.  Dyar was a renowned entomologist whose personal life is perhaps as well remembered as his professional life.  He served as honorary curator of Lepidoptera at the Smithsonian and as a mosquito specialist for the USDA.  He is perhaps best known for his peculiar habit of digging elaborate tunnels under his two homes in Washington D.C. 

Page from Harrison G. Dyar's Bluebook 532-574. SIA Acc. 12-447.

To view all of these and more, visit http://collections.si.edu/search/results.htm?tag.cstype=all&q=unit_code%3AFBR&fq=online_media_type:%22Electronic+resource%22.   To repeat our search strategy, you can also start from http://collections.si.edu, type unit_code:FBR in the search box and then use the Online Media facet to limit your search to records with electronic resources.  Enjoy!

The Challenge of Collecting Biodiversity

By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project

Portion of the fish collected through rotenone sampling off the coast of Matiti Island, Tikahau, 1957. SIA RU007231, Box 134, Folder "SI-Bredin Society Island Expedition, 1957". SIA2012-0652a.

As a cataloger with a liberal arts background working on a natural sciences project, I have learned a sizeable amount on the job. Some of this knowledge has been about the basics of scientific specialties but, more often than not, my new knowledge has been about the practical side of collecting.

• What kind of information do scientists of a specialization look for? For instance, ornithologists record the stomach contents when listing details about birds collected.
• How are specimens prepared? Stored? Shipped? I had not realized that for mammals collected, in some cases, only the skin was kept. Specimens like fish are often stored in jars of preservative solutions, that incidentally causes them to lose their color.

While working on a collection of Invertebrate Zoology, I came across a practical solution to a question I had not thought to ask – how would one collect a representative moment of biodiversity of a location?  How does one document the fauna of a location as a snap-shot? Thinking over the methods of collecting and observations I have cataloged, I began to see the extent of the challenge.

For birds, I have seen materials for bird counts, bird-banding, and individual collecting.  For marine biology, I have seen materials relating to dredging and fishing. These methods really seem best suited to documenting a type of wildlife found at a location. To use these methods to record a wide range of wildlife in an area would be time and labor intensive.

One method that provides an answer to this challenge is “rotenone sampling.” The account I read in the field notes described it as a relatively new method for collecting a “snapshot” of the fauna of a coral reef. Having never heard of this method, I did some research, and found more than I ever expected.

Rotenone is derived from the roots of tropical plants in the genus Derris, Lonchocarpus or Tephrosia in South America and Pacific Islands. It was initially recognized being used by native populations of the Pacific Islands and South America for fishing purposes. Rotenone works by blocking the cellular uptake of oxygen, and is an example of the use of plant poisons as a way of collecting specimens that are representative of a specific location. This method became more common after 1930. Rotenone is now an established method of location sampling and fish population management.

Over the last half century rotenone has become a collecting tool for field biologists as well as a method of fish management for a variety of organizations including state fish and wildlife departments and federal agencies. As one might imagine, this method of population management and sampling is closely regulated, and has inspired lively debate over the years. Yet over the last half century, state and federal agencies including the EPA have monitored it, and US Fish and Wildlife have discussed its proper utilization, proving it to be a useful tool for environmental study and management.

Something Fishy

By Sonoe Nakasone, Field Book Project

Blunt-nosed Sucker, July 28th, 1886, Verde, Arizona.  SIA RU 7184. Courtesy of the Division of Fishes, National Musem of Natural History.

It seems I’ve already said quite a bit about Edgar Alexander Mearns (1856-1916), the naturalist who collected birds, mammals, plants—you name it—throughout  the US, Philippines, northern Mexico, and Kenya.  My article on the Brachypteryx and last year’s Father’s Day post presented glimpses of Mearns as both a collector and person.  But Mearns was so prolific a naturalist, so fascinating a person, that I can’t help but return to his collections.  This time, let’s talk about fish.

Mearns’s notes seem to crop up everywhere, so I wasn’t surprised to see his familiar name written across a box in the Division of Fish this summer.  I greeted the box with the familiarity of an old friend, but upon opening it, was met with the cold grip of a stranger, for in the box was something completely new to me: fish tracings.  According to Jeff Williams, Collections Manager (Division of Fish, NMNH), tracing fish was not a standard protocol before, during, or after Mearns’s time.  So what prompted Mearns to step outside the box?

Traced dorsal anterior. 1886?  SIA RU 7184. Courtesy of the Division of Fishes.

Before attempting to answer this question, let me tell you more about these fish tracings.  There are 12 tracings of fish included in this collection.  It seems Mearns plopped a fish down, outlined it, and then filled in a few details like big round eyes that make the traced mouths look like cartoonish smiles.   An impressive detail included is the accurate rendering of the fishes’ tails and fins, which it seems he obtained by covering these parts with ink and stamping them onto the fish outline.  Clever, Mearns, very clever.  And creative.  The result of this tracing and stamping is a rudimentary, yet accurate “sketch” of a fish.

Brook trout from Camp Douglass, Jun, August 20, 1890.  SIA RU 7184. Courtesy of the Division of Fishes.

We’ve explored the importance of drawings and sketches of specimens in field notes, especially for fish, on this blog before.  We’ve learned from my colleague, Lesley Parilla, that color sketches of fish in the field are particularly important because the fish’s color fades soon after it dies.  Some fish sketches, therefore, have a more “finished” look than one might expect from a field sketch.  Similarly, I wondered if Mearns’s hasty trace and stamp job captured information lost after his fish were preserved.

Williams thinks it’s likely that Mearns traced his fish in order to obtain a quick measurement of the fish.  Accompanying Mearns’s tracings are many pages of detailed fish measurements of every kind.  These measurements, however, were most likely taken from preserved specimens.  Williams notes that although shrinkage varies by species, preserving fish in alcohol can see a 1-10% decrease in size from the time the specimen was alive.  The difference is notable in the length measurement, perhaps several millimeters in difference.  It’s possible Mearns’s tracings were a means to ascertain an exact measurement before his specimens shrunk.

Richardsonius gibbosus.  Circa July 2 (no year), Cedar Creek, Arizona.  SIA RU 7184. Courtesy of the Division of Fishes.

What about the tail and fin stamps?  What purpose would that have served when the specimens' tails and fins were to be preserved?  Unfortunately, I have no real answer to this question, although my uneducated guess is that it served as a quick reference for tail and fin patterns.  As for what inspired Mearns in the first place, one clue may come from Japanese Gyotaku, which as Jeff Williams notes, bears similarities to the stamping aspect of Mearns's tracings.  Although Gyotaku eventually developed into an art form, it originated as tool for fishermen to document the size and physical attributes of their day's catch.  Could Mearns have been emulating the methods of Japanese fishermen? 

It is said that necessity is the mother of invention.  Although Mearns did not invent the technique of tracing fish, Mearns’s fish tracings may serve as a testament to his creativity and resourcefulness in solving the problem of quickly and accurately obtaining measurements and pattern information of fresh fish.  Ah, Mearns, is there anything you can’t do?!

 

Thanks to Kris Murphy and Jeff Williams for their assistance with this article.

Enjoy the Journey

By Tad Bennicoff, Reference Archivist, Smithsonian Institution Archives

James A. Peters field notes, Mexico, 1949: Notes on Eleutherodactylus occidentalis specimen. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7175, Box 49, Folder 4, Image SIA2012-6364.

 One of the joys (and perhaps frustrations!) of conducting historical research is the mystery of what might be found upon reviewing original, archival materials.  Quite often, one enters into such research with anticipation, hope, and a level of expectation regarding the information being sought.  If the focus of consulting a particular historical resource lies solely in unearthing details to further one’s own theory, or confirm an expectation, it can become easy to overlook the fascinating materials encountered along the way, and the destination becomes more important than the journey.  Such was the case as I commenced with this article. 

My experience working with the Smithsonian’s collection of field books is rather limited, as I am not assigned to the Field Book Project, but rather am a Reference Archivist at the Smithsonian Institution Archives.  My chief responsibility is to reply to the inquiries we receive related to our holdings.  Thus, I do not have the luxury of becoming intimate with a particular collection and spend considerable time breezing past materials that may be of personal interest, but unrelated to a specific research request.  This very “businesslike” approach is similar to James A. Peters's style of note taking found in Record Unit 7175: James A. Peters Papers, and Records of the Division of Reptiles and Amphibians, 1927-1973 (Papers), 1927-1966 (Records).

James A. Peters field notes, Mexico, 1949: Tracing of Hyla smaragdina specimen. Note the source of the tracing is cited. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7175, Box 49, Folder 4, Image SIA2012-6426.

James Arthur Peters (1922-1972) was trained as a biologist.  He spent time as a member of the Brown University faculty (1952-1958) and served as Professor of Biology at San Fernando State College (1959-1964) prior to accepting the position Associate Curator in the Division of Reptiles and Amphibians at the United States National Museum (now the National Museum of Natural History) in 1964.  He became “supervisor and curator” of the division in 1967, a title which he held until his untimely passing in 1972.  His field notes are very professional, his handwriting quite legible.  Each entry includes careful details, such as the date, location, and circumstances under which a specimen was observed.  It is obvious that Dr. Peters valued his field notes, as he added typed pages expressing conclusions formed after extensive observations in the field.  His field notes also include tracings of specimens from published works wth citations.   Upon reviewing just a few pages, it becomes clear that the field notes of James Arthur Peters would be a valuable resource for an aspiring or established Herpetologist. 

Conducting research on another’s behalf can be challenging, especially when you happen upon interesting or curious materials unrelated to the request.  This happens quite frequently, as it did upon preparing this post.  I was reviewing the field notes of George Sprague Myers (Record Unit 7317: George Sprague Myers Papers, circa 1903-1986 and undated,) a Herpetologist, Ichthyologist, and former Assistant Curator in Charge, Division of Fishes, United States National Museum.  Professor Myers left the United States National Museum in 1936 to accept a professorship at his alma mater, Stanford University.  Myers was a prolific writer and educator, with more than 600 published papers to his credit (a well-written memorial resolution for George Sprague Myers is available online.) 

High School notebook of George Sprague Myers. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7317, Box 57, Folder 1.	High School notebook of George Sprague Myers. Pages containing History notes, as well as drawings of fish. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7317, Box 57, Folder 1.

The Myers Papers are rich with correspondence, research notes, and scientific manuscripts.  Included among his papers is a notebook labeled “Period 4 English, Room 307, D.H.S.” (Box 57, Folder 1: High School Notebook).  It sparked my curiosity, so I had to have a look.  The notebook contains Myers notes on Homer’s Odyssey, long a standard study of a high school English class.  Flipping through the pages you will find notes on Greek gods and characters represented in the epic, as well as notes on fish!  Adjacent to a page full of notes on the Helvetians (Myers must have used this notebook for a History class one particular day) are drawings of fish!  There are similar notes and drawings present throughout the notebook.  Thus, even in high school, while others were daydreaming of summer vacation or perhaps their Friday evening hangout, Myers, who had found his calling as an Ichthyologist, was daydreaming of fish!

The field books held by the Smithsonian Institution may be viewed as a microcosm of the Institution itself; there is a little something for everyone, whether it be the seasoned scientist seeking very specific data, a student of history interested in reviewing primary sources, or a researcher hoping to develop a human profile of a field book author who seemingly gathered and processed data with machine-like precision.  One of the goals of the Field Book Project is to digitize many of the field books and make them available with only a few strokes of your keyboard.  If you are interested, and take the time to review the pages and enjoy the journey, I believe you will find the field books to be much like the totality of the Smithsonian Institution: Seriously Amazing!

More James A. Peters field notes on our blog

More herpetology field notes on our blog

New Uses for Old Books

By Sonoe Nakasone, Field Book Project

 

U.S.S. Albatross logbook June 26, 1909, 4am.  Smithsonian Institution Archives, RU7184, box 1, folder 24. No neg number.

This summer was filled with milestones, not only for our Project, but for others as well.  The exciting news in July that Old Weather, a crowd-sourcing transcription project we admire, completed transcriptions for thousands of ships logs made me reflect on our own logbook collections, particularly the Albatross logbooks, which I am currently cataloging.  The Albatross logbooks are part of the United States Bureau of Fisheries Records, circa 1877-1948 (Smithsonian Institution Archives RU7184).  Although often seemingly sparse with information, these items contain valuable records of marine collecting, weather conditions, and history.

The Smithsonian obtained the Albatross (and other famous research vessel) logbooks through its close relationship with the United States Commission of Fish and Fisheries (later the Bureau of Fisheries, and still later, the Fish and Wildlife Service) established in 1871 by Congress.  Congress appointed then Assistant Secretary of the Smithsonian, Spencer Fullerton Baird, as the new agency’s Commissioner.  The Smithsonian became the depository  for specimens collected by the commission, and with the specimens came the logbooks.  The Albatross, built in 1882 as a United States Bureau of Fisheries vessel, became the first large ship specifically designed for marine research.  During a nearly 40 year career, the ship carried out numerous expeditions, most notably in the Arctic, Galapagos Islands, Philippines, Hawaiian Islands, and the West and Pacific Northwest of North America, greatly increasing the natural history collections at the Smithsonian.

R/V Fish Hawk excerpt, 1880. Smithsonian Institution Archives, RU7184, box 9, folder 3. No neg number.

One obvious use for the Albatross logbooks is the marine specimen information recorded within.  Although not all Albatross logbooks contain notes about what was collected, a large number of them do.  Quick notes about the quantities and types of specimens collected, including fish and a variety of marine invertebrates, were often recorded.  Over extended periods of time, such information has the potential to help researchers notice patterns, compare marine populations of the past to present populations, and perhaps predict future trends.  Such a use for information within logbooks is suggested by Poul Holm in his article “Where are the big fish?”, which discusses the declining populations of big fish evidenced by hundreds of years of fisherman’s logs and archival records.

R/V Fish Hawk logbook excerpt, August 7, 1880. Smithsonian Institution Archives, RU7184, box 9, folder 3. No neg number.

Another promising aspect of the Albatross logbooks is its record of temperature and weather information.  Water temperatures at various depths were recorded as well as air temperature, wind, clouds, state of the sea, weather (rain, fog, etc.), direction and force of current, tide, and barometer reading.  Daily weather data over long time periods can be useful for understanding past environments, for making predictions, and for understanding the impact of weather on biodiversity.  The Old Weather project saw these potential uses of weather information within the Royal Navy logbooks they transcribed, as explained on their blog in the article “The Royal Navy as Weather Observers.”

Logbooks can also be useful records of historical events, which I learned early on when cataloging the Allan Bé Papers.  These daily notes contain incredible historic value because they document the precise activities of organizations (i.e. institutions and research vessels) and people (i.e. expedition staff).  In this way, logbooks can potentially reconstruct the biography of a research vessel or the people who traveled and collected aboard it.  Old Weather noted this potential for regaining historical context, too, in "An Historical Perspective."

There is untold potential for researchers to use the information within the Albatross and other ships’ logbooks to discover patterns and linkages within marine ecosystems and also to fill in gaps of our historical knowledge.  When looking at the various uses for the important specimen, weather, and historical information within these logbooks, I look forward to being able to emulate the success of projects like Old Weather in order to unlock more of these data in logbooks and other field books.

 

Atomic Age Field Notes Across Collections

By Emily Hunter, Field Book Project

The Field Book Project was launched in 2010 to build an online registry of field book content. The Registry, which is now under development, will be a resource to bring together field books (within and from outside of the Smithsonian Institution) into one online location. For those of you who have followed our progress over the past couple of years, this is old news. But the need for this kind of resource continues to reveal itself. Recently, it was exemplified for me when cataloging the field notes of Leonard P. Schultz.

“Able Day” atomic bomb blast, Operation Crossroads, Bikini Atoll, Marshall Islands, 1946. Photograph is in the public domain. On Wikimedia Commons: http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Able_crossroads.jpg

Operation Crossroads

Ichthyologist Leonard P. Schultz (1901-1986) worked on the classification of fishes and studied shark attacks. He came to work at the United States National Museum (now known as the National Museum of Natural History) in 1936 and remained there until his death in 1986. Among the many projects and expeditions that Schultz took part in was Operation Crossroads, a U.S. Navy project that sent scientists to the Marshall Islands to record observations before and after the infamous Bikini Atoll atomic bomb tests of 1946. Schultz worked as an ichthyologist on Operation Crossroads, collecting fish and observing the effects of the blast on the local fauna.

Entry and sketch from field book of Leonard P. Schultz aboard the U.S.S. Bowditch, on “Able Day,” July 1, 1946, Marshall Islands. RU07222, Box 23, Folder 1. 2010-0901.

Over the summer, I cataloged field notes that are part of the Leonard Peter Schultz Papers, circa 1915-1970, with related papers from 1899 (Record Unit 7222), at the Smithsonian Institution Archives. The field notes themselves are provocative and very interesting, especially for me, as someone who did not live through that time when the world was just discovering the destructive powers of nuclear energy.

One entry, written on “Able Day” (the day of the first atomic blast test at Bikini Atoll) describes Schultz’s experience of watching the mushroom cloud and even feeling the heat on his face. His observations pre- and post-blast are emotionally stirring, but also scientifically significant—they provide a detailed record of the environment before and after the explosions.

All in all, 14 of Schultz’s field books from this time period, and the 1947 re-survey, are part of the collection at the Smithsonian Institution Archives. The materials include his logbook, field notes, annotated maps, photographs, negatives, and 16mm films.

Meanwhile, at Division of Fishes…

Soon after I finished cataloging that collection, I trekked over to the Museum Support Center where the NMNH Division of Fishes field notes are held. Summer Cataloging Intern Alice Doolittle had cataloged almost all of the Fishes field notes, leaving off at the letter “S”. I went to finish up cataloging those notes. Surprised was I to find even more field notes of Leonard P. Schultz—including notes from Operation Crossroads!

The book below includes Schultz’s notes on fishes surveyed before the atomic blast, and includes color sketches of the specimens. As mentioned in a previous blog post, color field sketches are an important information recording tool for ichthyologists; since specimens lose their color quickly, the sketches can give an idea of the colors and patterns observed on the fish right at the time it was collected.

Entry with color sketches of fish, Leonard P. Schultz, April 1, 1946, Marshall Islands. National Museum of Natural History Division of Fishes. RU7220. Photograph by Emily Hunter, 2012.

The Division of Fishes has three items of Schultz’s from his work on Operation Crossroads: an itinerary of his trip, the field book shown above, and field data. These books were kept in succession with the ones that are held at Smithsonian Institution Archives, and together they give a broader, richer, and more complete set of valuable data, observations, and other information.

Bringing it all together

I’d venture to say that the problem of “split collections” is not altogether uncommon, here at the Smithsonian, or other institutions. Related field notes are often split up, either intentionally or unintentionally. Before the launch of the Field Book Project years ago, Co-Principle Investigator Rusty Russell ran into several obstacles while trying to access field notes of the United States Exploring Expedition (1838-1842). His search brought him to 11 (yes, eleven!) separate institutions. That frustration and recognition of the need for increased accessibility and control led to the formation of The Field Book Project.

Beyond just connecting the field notes of one collector from a specific date, the Registry also allows connections to be made between items from the same Expedition or project, and even similar subjects, across collections.

For example, if you want to access field notes for the Marshall Islands (or even more specifically, Bikini Atoll), you could search by location. Currently the Field Book Registry has 71 field books from the Marshall Islands, providing a trove of information on the biodiversity of this location. And if you wanted to find more field notes on Operation Crossroads, you would find that there were actually two Smithsonian scientists who took part in that project—the other being malacologist Joseph P. E. Morrison. In fact, field notes related to Operation Crossroads or other surveys before and after atomic bomb testing exist in various collections outside of the Smithsonian Institution as well (some light internet research turns up articles, photographs, videos, and more).

Our goal, eventually, is to bring all of those materials into one online location so that it’s easier to find. Schultz's Operation Crossroads field notes are yet another example that shows the importance of linking these related collections so that users may find all relevant materials. Through the descriptive work that we do, important relationships are maintained, and—at least virtually—the information co-located.

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More information on Operation Crossroads can be found here: http://www.mnh.si.edu/onehundredyears/expeditions/bikini.html

A Conversation with Victor G. Springer

By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project

Dr. Victor G. Springer, Senior Scientist Emeritus, National Museum of Natural History, Division of Fishes. Photo courtesy of the Division of Fishes.

This week as part of Beyond the Field Book Project section of our blog, we continue our series of interviews to learn more about who uses field books and for what kinds of research. Last month, I had the opportunity to interview Victor G. Springer, PhD, from the Division of Fishes. His interests are in the classification, distribution, and morphology (particularly osteology; gill-arch musculature) of fishes, with special interests in blennioid and a few other groups of fishes. He has been in his chosen field for over sixty years, and joined the Division of Fishes at National Museum of Natural History in 1961. Dr. Springer was kind enough share some of his process for recording field data and use of field books in his research.

What types of information do you find important to record in your field notes?

I record field data on water resistant paper sheets. I include specific locality data, ecological notes, date and method of collection, initial preservative, and sundry notes (e.g., indications if specimens were photographed), sometimes sight records of species not collected, date of collection, as well as other participants, if any, during the collecting. I also keep a daily diary at the end of day, with various other types of information, including sundry observations and quotidian remarks – sometimes very personal. When the fish are being packed for shipment, an ad hoc list of identifications may be included on the field data sheets or entered in the diary.

What role do the field notes you take play in your research processes?

The field data are now usually completely entered in the Division of Fishes catalog of specimens and on a label placed in the jar with the specimens. This data has been computerized for several years, but for my early collections the data was only recorded by hand in catalog books and might not have been completely included. For these early collections I go back to the field data sheets for missing information or to correct errors that might have been made when data were entered by hand in the catalog books.

Do you ever consult field notes that were done for another expedition, for example a historic expedition? If so, how do you use the information in those notes for your research?

When using specimens from the George Vanderbilt collections at Stanford University, jars of specimens only had the field collection number associated with them, and it was necessary to go to the detailed field data sheets to get the information. This has happened at the National Museum of Natural History only on rare occasion, but there is one outstanding example I remember. An ichthyologist named William Longley, made important collections during the early 1900s in various places in Indonesia and also in Florida. He never associated labels with his specimens, relying on his memory and field data sheets for the information he needed. When he died, his collections of mixed fish from mixed localities were given to us. These were sorted by us and generally identified – usually only to family, and whoever did this placed the same locality label in each jar of specimens: EAST INDIES. Using his diaries and field notes I was able to assign more accurate localities to those specimens of his that I used in my studies.

Thank you, Dr. Springer, for sharing with us about your work process and the use and value of field notes relating to your research. You can learn more about ichthyology field notes on our Blog.

Fish out of Water… and into a Museum

By Alice Doolittle, Cataloging Intern, Field Book Project

A page from the tin tag record for the 1907-1910 cruise of the Albatross in the Philippines. From National Museum of Natural History (U.S.), collected notes, lists, catalogs, illustrations, and records on fishes, circa 1835-1974 and undated, SIA RU007220. Photo: Alice Doolittle.

When I began cataloging field books in the Division of Fishes at the National Museum of Natural History a few weeks ago, one of the first books I pulled off the shelf was a record book of tin tag numbers used on a cruise of the research vessel Albatross in the early 1900s. This kind of log book is really no different from any other field catalog of specimens; it contains a list of unique numbers assigned to individual specimens in the field as they are collected. The catalog usually includes basic collection information, as well, such as where and when the specimen was collected. I was not, however, familiar with tin tags, or their textile counterparts, linen tags and silk tags. In fact, I realized that I didn’t know much about the whole process of collecting and preparing fish specimens, and I wanted to know more.

By now I’ve looked through enough field books to have learned that there are many ways that fish are collected—trawling, seining, hook-and-line fishing, and spearfishing, to name a few. But what happens after that?  Dr. Jeff Williams, Division of Fishes Collection Manager, gave me an insider’s view on collecting fish in the field. Jeff described a typical scene on a research vessel: scores of fish on the deck of a ship, having just been brought on board in a trawl net. The fish are sorted into species right there on deck. They get tagged—Jeff uses paper tags and a fish tagging gun, like a price tag gun you might see in a clothing store. In the past, collectors tied tin, silk, or linen tags to the fish with string.

A tin tag tied to the tail of a Priacanthus arenatus. Photo: Alice Doolittle.

Along the way, Jeff photographs the fish in a portable tank. It is important to take a photograph when the fish is still fresh, as its colors will start to fade fairly quickly. This would explain why field books I’ve worked with—many of which pre-date portable cameras—sometimes contain colorful sketches of collected fish, or include detailed “color notes” describing the patterns and colors of collected fish. (See “When Are Drawings Field Notes?” for more on this topic.)

The fish are preserved with formaldehyde and shipped in batches to the museum, where they are further processed before becoming fully-fledged museum specimens. The fish then are preserved in alcohol for long-term storage.

The alcohol preservation is done in stages, in an effort to minimize the shrinking that the alcohol causes. Another insight into field notes! Ichthyologists often record fish lengths in their notes, sometimes taking several other size measurements, as well. Now that I know the museum specimen will be a bit smaller than the fish in the wild, I can understand why a collector might want to take field measurements while the fish is still fresh.

Canning jars make pretty good specimen jars for these seahorses (Hippocampus erectus). Photo: Alice Doolittle.

Museum Specialist Kris Murphy took me on a tour of the Smithsonian’s fish collection so that I could see the fruits of all this collecting labor. Like the fish themselves, the jars that house them come in all different shapes and sizes—even canning jars, complete with “Le Parfait” raised lettering on the side. For me, the best part of touring the collection was being able to track down fish whose tin tag numbers I saw while cataloging field books—some collected more than a hundred years ago. Now when I look at a tin tag record book, I don’t just see a list of numbers, but the fish themselves, residing on shelf after shelf in the Smithsonian’s incredible library of biodiversity.

Fishing without a Net: The Journals of Constantine Samuel Rafinesque

By Tad Bennicoff, Reference Archivist, Smithsonian Institution Archives

Cover of journal kept by Rafinesque on his trip from Philadelphia to Kentucky, 1818. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7250, Box 1, Folder 3, Image SIA2012-6042

When the folks involved with the Field Book Project http://www.mnh.si.edu/rc/fieldbooks/ asked me to contribute to this blog, I was uncertain of how to approach the task.  The study of science and its many disciplines have never been one of my strengths.  My background is in History, which has led me into a much enjoyed career as a Reference Archivist.  Thus, I resolved to focus on the historic significance of the field notes held by the National Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian Institution Archives. One of the frustrations of a Reference Archivist, especially one who has the good fortune of being surrounded by collections as diverse as those held by the Smithsonian, is that there is little opportunity to really immerse one’s self into a particular collection.  The upside of course is the variety of topics and research I am permitted to pursue.  Such research, however, is almost entirely dictated by the questions we receive from the public.  To this end, I was recently tasked with reviewing Record Unit 7250: C. S. (Constantine Samuel) Rafinesque Papers, 1815-1834 and undated; the finding aid for this collection is available online. 

Constantine Samuel Rafinesque was a Naturalist and Philologist born on October 22, 1783, in Constantinople (a brief biography is available on the University of Evansville faculty webpage).  In the autumn of 1818 Rafinesque undertook a trip from Philadelphia to Kentucky, where he stayed with John James Audubon for eight days.  During his travels south, Rafinesque kept a journal of his plant and animal observations.  This journal is part of Record Unit 7250, and it is remarkable.  Nearly two hundred years old, the journal is composed of notes (in French) and sketches of plants, shells, fish, and mammals. The sketches are not of Audubonian quality, but then again, they presumably were completed in the field and essentially are a snapshot of select specimens. 

Rafinesque’s drawings of tortoises observed along the Ohio River, 1818. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7250, Box 1, Folder 3, Image SIA2012-6075.

Upon applying white cotton gloves to my hands and opening Rafinesque’s leather bound journal, carefully turning each weathered page, I began to contemplate, historically, the nature of Rafinesque’s travels.  There were of course no automobiles, so transportation must have been either by horse, perhaps a horse drawn carriage, or by foot.  Furthermore, there were few roads and presumably even fewer maps.  In fact, Rafinesque drafted his own maps, some of which are noted in the journal. 

Map drawn by Rafinesque during his travels from Philadelphia to Kentucky, 1818. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7250, Box 1, Folder 3, Image SIA2012-6086.

Technology that we so easily take for granted was absent.  There were no cameras to document observations, no laptop or tablet computers to record thoughts, no cell phones, no ballpoint pens, no electric lights, no water resistant rain gear, etc.  I can only image that such scientific research was indeed laborious. 

Rafinesque’s drawings of fish observed during trip from Philadelphia to Kentucky, 1818. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7250, Box 1, Folder 3, Image SIA2012-6107.

Frankly, I find the lack of our modern technology in the Rafinesque journal to be quite appealing, for if there had been digital cameras and iPads, we almost certainly would not have Rafinesque’s hand-written notes and sketches.  Historical documents have a way of transporting the reader to the moment in time in which they were created, and as I studied the journal, I marveled not only at its contents, but also the journey it has traveled from the untamed wilderness of 18^th century America to the custom made archival box and climate controlled facility where it resides today.

Inner cover of journal kept by Rafinesque on his trip from Philadelphia to Kentucky, 1818. Smithsonian Institution Archives, Record Unit 7250, Box 1, Folder 3, Image SIA2012-6043.

The Rafinesque notebooks continue to be consulted by researchers and scholars, a testament to the significance of their contents.  The particular journal described in this post is in the process of being digitized, and may soon be available for researchers to consult through the wonders of technology Rafinesque never could have imagined.  Based upon the time, effort, and care Rafinesque invested in recording his observations, I suspect he would applaud not only that his research continues to be valued by scholars, but also it may soon be available to researchers around the globe.

Other Field Book Project articles on Rafinesque:

http://nmnh.typepad.com/fieldbooks/2011/10/the-hoax.html

http://nmnh.typepad.com/fieldbooks/2011/10/trick-or-treat.html

Women in Science, in the Field

By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project

78-10629. Mary Jane Rathbun, carcinologist at the United States National Museum, at left with Katherine J. Bush of Yale University, second from left, Charlotte Bush and Eloise Edwards at the Marine Biological Laboratory and United States Fish Commission Station at Woods Hole, Massachusetts, probably in the 1890s.

In honor of Women’s History Month, we are posting several articles discussing women’s field notes. In this article I wanted to provide an introduction, and share examples of the women we’ve come across while cataloging.

Early in my time at the Smithsonian, I learned that women have long been associated with the sciences at the Smithsonian. Early in the twentieth century, many of these women were not hired as official scientists like their male counterparts. The women often lacked formal education in the field.  Their male counterparts who lacked formal training could compensate for this through field work. However, as historian Pamela Henson discusses in two articles, cited below, upper administrators were sometimes reticent to women participating in field work in an official capacity. These administrators cited concerns about the health or safety of female staff during such ventures. If women did achieve a title of scientist, it was usually after years of work within a department.

Women with an interest in science often came to be a part of natural history departments through pursuits that were more socially acceptable like scientific illustration, working with plants (Invading Arcadia, p. 439), or through their personal relationships. Almost all the women I’ve come across either started as illustrators, worked in the field of botany (as will be discussed later this month), or through marital or blood relationships (as wives, sisters, or daughters) with men in scientific fields.

79-11666. William and Lucile Mann (Record United 7293), in British Guiana on a collecting trip for the National Zoological Park (1931).

Women carved out opportunities where possible. If they were paid employees of the Smithsonian, they most likely worked within the institution walls. Few managed to be paid staff and do field work. Some of the most prolific female researchers at the Smithsonian spent little if any time in the field, and thus have no field notes in our Registry. Mary Jane Rathbun, (zoology) and Doris Blake (entomology), for example, spent decades at the National Museum of Natural History, with voluminous quantities of material documenting their research, but they worked in the offices, identifying and illustrating specimens. These women would make fascinating women’s history research topics, so we encourage you to check these women out.

Women who collected often did it as opportunity and time presented itself; their specimens cover short periods of time or limited geographic range or both. Some of the women whose notes (prior to 1970) we’ve cataloged include:

• Margaret Sordahl (wife of Smithsonian staff member) collected 1930-1931 at Mt. Brukkaros, Africa.
• Thora Stejneger (sister of zoologist Leonhard Stejneger) collected in Norway, 1898-1900.
• Lucille Mann (wife of William Mann, director the National Zoological Park who has been a topic of a one my earlier blogs) was the primary documenter for her husband’s collecting around the world.

Then there is Mary Agnes Chase. Mary Agnes Chase, even among women in science at Smithsonian, is unusual. She is a fascinating figure, well-known at the Institution, having had a long and distinguished career in the Department of Botany well before women in the sciences were common. I wanted to write something about Chase from a new vantage, but am now thinking she can probably speak more eloquently for herself.

Watch for upcoming Field Book Project posts on women in science, including women in botany, and excerpts of Mary Agnes Chase's correspondence while working in the field in Brazil, 1929-1930, and a Flickr set documenting Chases' botanical work.  Also look at The Bigger Picture this month as they feature posts discussing the Smithsonian Institution Archives’ “Women in Science” Flickr set.

For more information about Doris Blake and Mary Jane Rathbun mentioned above, see:

SIA RU007256, Rathbun, Mary Jane 1860-1943, Mary Jane Rathbun Papers, 1886-1938 and undated

SIA Acc. 06-169, Schmitt, Waldo L (Waldo Lasalle) 1887-1977, Waldo L. Schmitt Papers, c. 1970 SIA RU007310,

SIA RU007310 Blake, Doris Holmes 1892-1978, Doris Holmes Blake Papers, 1899-1985

References: 

Henson, Pamela M.(2003). 'What Holds the Earth Together': Agnes Chase and American Agrostology. Journal of the History of Biology. 36(3), 437-460. http://www.jstor.org/stable/4331826

Henson, Pamela M.(2002). Invading Arcadia: Women Scientists in the Field in Latin America, 1900-1950. The Americas. 58(4), 577-600. http://www.jstor.org/stable/1007799

A New Way to Look at a Fish Market

By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project

Sketch from a page in“Color Notes on Hawaiian Fishes” in Smithsonian Institution Archives (SIA) Record Unit 7184, Box 16 Folder 8, 1901.

While working on this project I have come across a number of items that have taken me by surprise, changed my perception of what is a priority for specimen description, and what counts as field work. Before this project, I had not realized some types of specimens change dramatically in appearance after they are caught and preserved. Birds’ feathers for instance, stay the same, but fish lose much of their original coloring during the preservation process. This affects the types of information collected in field notes.

Scientists use unexpected resources to collect data. Alexander Wetmore, ornithologist and much blogged about former Secretary of the Smithsonian, used entrée listings on regional menus to gauge the migration of birds across South America. In the case of this post, my discovery has to do with the importance of recording the colors and appearance of fish when first collected.

When fish are collected, many invariably lose their coloring shortly after death or during the preservation process. In field notes from the 1800’s, recording color and patterns was a major focus because of how much was lost by the time specimens reached the institution. See the post and activity on the lovely series of sketches and color images of fish created shortly after they were caught during the United State Exploring Expedition (1838-1842).

While cataloging the Bureau of Fisheries Records, 1877-1948 (RU 7184) I found a record book labeled Color Notes on Hawaiian Fishes. In it were detailed descriptions of fish found at the Honolulu fish market, June 6 - August 8, 1901.

Page from “Color Notes on Hawaiian Fishes” from RU 7184, Box 16 Folder 8, 1901.

An employee of the U.S. Bureau of Fisheries went through the market carefully describing fish after fish for sale. Descriptions for a single fish often cover an entire page; some, like the one above, include sketches with notes. These sketches are not so different from ones completed during The U.S Exploring Expedition (seen below).

SIA2011-1231. Sketch of fish collected near Fiji, during the United States Exploring Expedition, 1838-1842.

The similarities between these two emphasize one of the things so fascinating about working with Smithsonian materials. As a research institution and federal entity, the Smithsonian straddles the areas of pure and applied sciences. The Bureau of Fisheries grew out of the work of Spencer Baird (Secretary of the Smithsonian 1878 to 1887) conducted for the federal government in regards to American commercial fishing. This is why the Smithsonian has their early records, before the Bureau morphed and merged with US Department of Fish and Wildlife.

Many of Smithsonian departments work closely with federal agencies applying science – US Department of Agriculture, US Geological Survey, just to name two. They work well together because, though the initial purpose of the science is different, the principles and methods are similar. Their results are comparable and of value to both types of science. The two fish shown above are from between Fiji and the Hawaiian Islands, yet the comparison is intriguing because the field work occurred in such dissimilar places, the Pacific Ocean and a fish market.

On The Bigger Picture...

Smithsonian Institution Pre Doctoral Fellow, Samantha Muka, shares how three scientists logbooks offered a glimpse into the research activities of the Bureau of Fisheries Division of Inquiry in her article "The Broad Mission of the Division of Inquiry" on The Bigger Picture.

Where was Waldo...

By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project


SIA2011-0773.  Waldo Schmitt, 1933, Hancock Pacific-Galapagos Expedition.

The collections we catalog are often the result a lifetime of research and collecting. These scientists go out routinely to collect, and usually take part in one or two expeditions over a career. When I first looked at the finding aid for SIA RU 7231 collection of Waldo LaSalle Schmitt (1887-1977), I was surprised to find more than 15 different expeditions listed. Some of these cover multiple years. I knew there would be plenty of material to include. Several questions came to mind. How did he manage to take part in all of them? Was he invited? Did he organize them? Did he ever spend time at home? Delving into the life of Waldo was going to be interesting.

Waldo Schmitt's Expeditions


Click here to see Waldo Schmitt's expeditions mapped on Google maps.

• 1911 Bureau of Fisheries Expedition to Lower California
• 1911 Bureau of Fisheries Chignik (Alaska) Biological Survey
• 1912 Bureau of Fisheries Survey of San Francisco Bay
• 1914 Bureau of Fisheries Halibut Survey of Washington and Oregon
• 1918 Bureau of Fisheries Spiny Lobster Investigations, La Jolla, California
• 1925-1927 Walter Rathbone Bacon Traveling Scholarship Expedition South America and Falklands
• 1930-1932 Fieldwork at Carnegie Marine Laboratory, Dry Tortugas, Florida
• 1933-1935 Hancock Pacific-Galapagos Expedition
• 1937 Smithsonian-Hartford West Indies Expedition
• 1938 Presidential Cruise 1938 to Galapagos
• 1939 Hancock South America Expedition
• 1940 U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service Alaska King Crab Investigation
• 1941-1942 United States Navy Trip to the Galapagos
• 1955 Smithsonian-Bredin Belgian Congo Expedition
• 1956 Smithsonian-Bredin Caribbean Expedition I
• 1957 Smithsonian-Bredin Society Islands Expedition
• 1958 Smithsonian-Bredin Caribbean Expedition II
• 1959Smithsonian-Bredin Caribbean Expedition III
• 1960 Smithsonian-Bredin Yucatan Expedition
• 1962-1963 Palmer Peninsula Survey, U.S. Antarctic Research Program

Waldo has proven to be a fascinating figure. As you might imagine by my reference to him by his first name, his personality shines through his papers and records and inspires a certain level of affection.

He was a Zoologist whose specialty was decapod crustaceans (the order that includes crabs, lobsters, and shrimp), and held several positions at National Museum of Natural History (NMNH) eventually becoming Curator of Zoology. Waldo conducted a tremendous amount of work in the Caribbean and Galapagos Islands, but additionally collected in places as far flung as Democratic Republic of Congo and Antarctica. He had the enviable position of taking part in multiple expeditions across the globe, and was invited or suggested (as he was for Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Presidential Cruise of 1938) for other expeditions because of his reputation.

It seems clear from his materials that Waldo had a personality made for expedition work. He was personable, had a colorful way with words, and was always ready with a story. Waldo often put particular care into accounts about places he visited, locals met, and interactions with expedition participants. His diaries were being read by colleagues back at the Smithsonian, along with progress reports, and he seemed to make a point to make the accounts good reading. These field books make places and events easy to visualize.

I have found answers for some of my initial questions while cataloging the collection. Waldo formed strong relationships with several individuals who funded multiple expeditions. In other cases, I have found correspondence from colleagues inviting his participation, or, in the case of the Presidential Cruise, a letter from a supervisor suggesting him. I have found only a few expeditions that he seems to have run. Materials in the Smithsonian-Bredin Belgian Congo Expedition, 1955, indicate he preferred to be a participant and focus on collecting. As far as a balance with home-life, most of the expeditions covered portions of the year. During these times, letters to and from his wife impart a strong sense familiarity and affection. I have also found notes sent to him by his children while he was out collecting. But perhaps the title of his biography by Entomologist Richard E. Blackwelder states it best: The Zest for Life, or, Waldo Had a Pretty Good Run: the Life of Waldo LaSalle Schmitt.

Specimen collecting and the Department of Defense

By Lesley Parilla

 SIA2008-3196. Alexander Wetmore Standing Next to Jeep at Rio Las Tablas, Panama, 1948. After a number of visits, correspondence in the collection indicates that Wetmore was using the same Jeep during successive visits. Eventually they painted SM-INS in the front bumper marking it for Smithsonian Institution use (see SIA2008-3201).

While working on natural history and institution archive collections here at the Smithsonian, I have come across a lot of projects involving the collaboration between the Smithsonian and other federal agencies. Some of these relationships are short term, lasting months or years. Others extend for decades like that of United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) and National Museum of Natural History (NMNH). In the case of federal agencies working with NMNH, the agencies are often involved in natural resource management. The Bureau of Fisheries (later merged to create the United States Fish and Wildlife Service) contributed material in several collections at Smithsonian Institution Archives. One relationship that surprised me was the recurring collaborations between the Department of Defense (DOD) and the Smithsonian Institution.

 The structure of the work with DOD varies, and is usually based on a shared topic or geographic focus. The Department of Entomology has had an ongoing relationship with the US Army, Walter Reed Biosystematics Unit (WRBU) since 1961. WRBU coordinates with NMNH’s
Department of Entomology, to manage and develop the NMNH Mosquito collection, which has become the largest of its kind at 1.5 million specimens (http://wrbu.si.edu/WhatWeDo.html).

Usually what I find relates to specimen collecting trips in the form of expeditions or surveys. These seem to come about for two reasons—the Smithsonian Institution is, in many cases, the repository for national collections, cultural and biological. The US Military has a myriad of bases, outposts, and equipment around the world. When the US Government decides it is in the national interest to collect, circumstances have brought these two together. This has produced a string of expeditions, surveys, and informal relationships over the last two centuries. Below is an overview of just a few we’ve cataloged thus far.

• 1838-1842 Pre-dating the Institution, the United States Exploring Expedition (Wilkes Expedition) was commanded by Lieutenant Charles Wilkes of the United States Navy. Specimens from this expedition compose a large portion of NMNH’s earliest specimens.

SIA2011-1233, Specimen collected during the Expedition.

• 1853- 1858 As the US territory and commercial interests extended west in the nineteenth century, military personnel and resources worked with Smithsonian staff during expeditions like the United States North Pacific Exploring Expedition (1853-1856) to study of commercial fishing grounds and the Colorado Exploring Expedition (Ives Expedition) (1857 - 1858) to develop transportation options across the southwest US.
• 1923 The Tanager Surveys during the 1920’s were conducted with the US Navy, Bernice Pauahi Bishop Museum in Honolulu (Hawaii), and USDA (with Alexander Wetmore). The Expedition was named after the Naval Minesweeper used for the series of cruises through the Hawaiian Islands. Archives materials from the 1923 collecting trip document mapping efforts by the U.S. Navy, and collecting of botanical and ornithological specimens.

SIA2011-0842 Survey Participants during the Tanager Expedition, 1923.

• 1939 When Franklin D. Roosevelt took the Presidential Cruise of 1939, he invited Smithsonian staff to come along. Waldo Schmitt, Curator of Invertebrate Zoology at NMNH, collected during the voyage on the US Navy vessel. Specimen collecting was done with the assistance of naval personnel.
• 1946 -1953 Alexander Wetmore studied birds in the Panama Canal Zone, with the support of personnel and equipment at the Jaque Auxiliary Airfield and Albrook Field, Panama. His correspondence documents relationships with local US troops, use of aircraft to select possible archaeological dig sites, and vehicles to access sites for ornithological collecting.
• 1962-1963 Waldo Schmitt, Curator of the Invertebrate Zoology Department of the National Museum of Natural History, took part in survey work during the Palmer Peninsula (Antarctica) Survey, at the United States Antarctic Program, which has been an ongoing research location since 1956, supported by National Science Found and supported with DOD equipment and personnel.

SIA2012-0664a Starfish specimen collected off the coast of Palmer Peninsula, Antarctica, c. 1962.

•  1962-1973 The Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program (POBSP), started in 1962, was a cooperative effort between the Smithsonian Institution and DOD to study pelagic birds of the Pacific.

SIA2011-1366. Blue-faced boobies, November 11, 1968, location unknown. Taken during the Pacific Ocean Biological Survey Program.

It is exciting to find, as I catalog, that what initially appeared to be isolated projects between agencies really demonstrates an understanding of the benefits of working together.  Additionally, information on specimens and when they were collected is often in unexpected places.  Information from the vessel Tanager may be located at a DOD archive, National Archives, the Smithsonian, or the Bishop Museum. The Field Book Project works to make those connections easier to find. 

Trick or Treat Rafinesque Style Part 2

By Sonoe Nakasone, Field Book Project

Today, Halloween 2011, we pay tribute to one of natural sciences most enigmatic and haunting figures. 

     
Left: Constantine Samueul Rafineque.  Image published before 1923,and in the US public domain. 
Right: You may recognize this image from the banner of our blog.  This is an image of a fish from Rafinesque's 1818 field notes taken in Kentucky, Washington, D.C., Pennsylvania, and perhaps other eastern states.  All images in this article are from the same field book.

Constantine Samuel Rafinesque (1788-1840) was the quintessential Renaissance Man. He instructed himself in the various disciplines of the natural sciences—especially Ichthyology, Botany, and Malacology—as well as cultural Anthropology and Linguistics. Many of his forward thinking ideas branded him an eccentric during his lifetime. One of these ideas, his patented Divitial Invention, allowed divided portions of a bank stock of deposit certificates to circulate as currency. He was also an advocate for the use of fireproof materials to build homes. Rafinesque is even attributed with discovering a botanical cure for tuberculosis, although this cannot be verified as there is now no known documentation on the exact ingredients of his remedy.  Medical Flora of the United States (1828), which contained botanical medical cures, was one of Rafinesque’s most successful publications.

     
Rafinesque offended many of his contemporaries in the American natural science community with his unconventional and forward thinking ideas.  Yet, a look at Rafinesque’s collection of notebooks from 1815-1834 reveals meticulous work that should not go unrecognized.  Informative and mesmerizing, Rafinesque’s notes transport readers and researchers to the rich 19th Century, east coast landscape in which he collected many zoological and botanical specimen. 

Perhaps a reflection of his eccentricity, Rafinesque’s field notes do not seem to lie static on the page, but rather jump up to greet the reader’s curiosity of the natural world. Beautiful sketches of ichthyologic, botanical, and other specimens are found throughout the collection. Spectacular details portray the scales of a fish, folds on the underside of a mushroom, and the ridges on a shell. Thorough descriptions and often measurements are included with each sketch.

Rafinesque spent most of his life traveling, according to his autobiography, “A Life of Travels”, and he greatly enjoyed being outdoors. Fittingly, his collection of field books also incorporates a number of bucolic landscape sketches and hand drawn maps. These additional sketches will hopefully guide researchers through the locations in which he collected and allow them to see through his eyes.

Although some of Rafinesque’s inventive schemes were profitable enough to finance his extensive traveling and field research for some time, he fell badly into debt by the time of his death in 1840. Recognized by some as brilliant, he nevertheless died a largely unappreciated man. In the more than one and a half centuries since his death, however, scholars and researchers have come to recognize Rafinesque’s contributions to science. Today, he is credited for having identified a number of new species. Additionally, he has two genre, Rafinesquia (family Asteraceae) and Rafinesquina (family Rafinesquinidae), named after him.  In fact, I was pleased to see one of his namesakes listed as a specimen collected in one of the paleontologist G. Arthur Cooper’s field books.  I am also pleased to think that if Rafinesque had lived to see today, he would find many of his “crazy” ideas validated.

Over 150 years after his death, much about Rafinesque’s life and work remains puzzling.  For one, there’s his successful hoax (see last week’s article)—but was it really a hoax?  It is generally accepted as such but others still subscribe to the validity of his claims.  Add to that his many ideas spanning a variety of disciplines, which were so far ahead of his time that it seems as if he possessed a crystal ball.  Finally, there is his ghost.  Rafinesque died practically penniless and in debt.  His landlord planned to sell his corpse to science but, as the story goes, Rafinesque’s friends stole his body from the window of his apartment and gave it a proper burial.  Years later, his body was exhumed and transported to Transyvlania Univsersity, where he had been a respected professor for seven years.  Today, he is supposedly interred under the steps of Old Morrison, a Transylvania University building that Rafinesque is said to haunt to this day. 

References
1. Flannery, Michael A. The Medicine and Medicinal Plants of C. S. Rafinesque. Economic Botany, Vol. 52, No. 1 (Jan. - Mar., 1998), pp. 27-43.

2. Biography.youdictionary.com. Constantine Samuel Rafinesque Biography. Accessed in 2011 from http://biography.yourdictionary.com/constantine-samuel-rafinesque.

3. Endersby, J. ‘The vagaries of a Rafinesque’: imagining and classifying American nature.  Studies of History and Philosophy of Biology and Biomedical Science, Vol. 40, No. 3 (September 2009), pp. 167-178. http://www.jimendersby.com/PDF/Endersby_Vagaries_2009.pdf

4. Taylor, Raymond L. Reviewed work(s): A Life of Travels, by C. S. Rafinesque: Being a Verbatim and Literatim Reprint of the Original and Only Edition by C. S. Rafinesque; Francis W. Pennell. The William and Mary Quarterly, Third Series, Vol. 2, No. 2 (Apr., 1945), pp. 213-221.

5. Waymarking.com. Rafinesque, The Man and The Myth.  Accessed in 2011 from http://www.waymarking.com/waymarks/WM21F2_Old_Morrison_Transylvania_University_Lexington_KY.

6.Wikipedia.org.  Constantine Samuel Rafinesque.  Accessed from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Constantine_Samuel_Rafinesque, October 2011.

The amazing Perené River

By Norma J. Salcedo, Grice Marine Laboratory

I am a biologist who was born in a desert in Perú.  My hometown, Lima, is a city of 10 million on the Pacific coast of South America. The beaches, the waves, and the sunset painting the sky all sorts of red are my soul’s fuel. Naturally, as a young undergraduate biology student I tried to stay as close to the ocean as possible. But, as a college junior I fell in love with other waters…

Physical map of northern and central South America showing the Tropical Andes.

 September 20^th, 1995
I was looking forward to this trip to the Amazon basin since the day I learned about it. We got together at the Museum of Natural History in Lima to depart for this Ichthyology field trip to the Perené River, tributary of the Amazon. Once at the museum we realized that there were nets and buckets for samples occupying most of the space in the jeep. So, after arranging people, buckets, and backpacks everything fit.

September 21^st, 1995
After a 6-hour drive across the mountains, the feel of traveling like sardines in a can faded away. All those amazing stories of adventures in the Amazon that we heard about in class became reality: we were in the amazing Perené River!

Ichthyology class of 1995 in the Perené River after getting out of the jeep.

 Now what? We were seven undergraduate students, buckets and nets in hand, with little or no idea as to what to do with them . My ichthyology professor approached me with a pencil and a bunch of forms, and showed me how to fill in the Field Book and off he went giving instructions and different tasks to each student. I did the best I could at the speed at which the group was moving collecting fish. Our first collecting station was a little creek that drained into the Perené River. We didn’t have a GPS so the field notes had to be as precise as possible, and a figure of the general area would illustrate the collection site so it could be found in the future. We collected two specimens of the cutest little catfishes in that creek, but only in that creek.

Field Notes for station HO9502-01. Hand writing of Norma J. Salcedo and Hernán Ortega. Drawing by Hernán Ortega. The sampled area is marked with several “x” signs.

July, 2011
In September of 1995 I fell in love with fragile and unique ecosystems. I saw streams and rivers that start as little creeks, up high in the mountains, where your eyes can’t reach. I felt cold, clear, fast waters as they make their way into valleys supporting life throughout their way as one of the most incredible and species rich environments of the world: the Tropical Andes.

I went back to the Perené River many times after 1995. In 2003 the creek described for HO9502-01 was dry. The slopes of the Andes are changing. How fast, or why? We are not sure. It makes me sad to think that my students might not get to see the beauty of the waters that one day got my heart.

Hernán Ortega still takes his Ichthyology class to collect fish in Andean rivers, just like he has been doing for about 30 years.

Many biology undergraduate and graduate students support the collection building at the Museo de Historia Natural in Lima (MUSM) by volunteering and conducting research to complete the requirements of their theses.

The Ashanika people, led by Ruth Buendía, are trying to stop the building of the Pakitzapango dam  in the lower Perené River where it drains into the Ene River.

 

 

When Are Drawings Field Notes?

 By Lesley Parilla, Field Book Project

I recently cataloged items from Smithsonian Archives RU 7186, United States Exploring Expedition Collection, 1838-1885, and came across a series of wonderful hand-drawn and hand-colored images.  Collections I cataloged before this were visually documented with photographs or quick sketches in the midst of field notes. The drawings in RU 7186 are a separate series and have dramatically varying amounts of information.  Some are covered in notes and are rough sketches; others are highly detailed and do not even have a signature.  Initially, I was unsure how to conclusively judge:

 

·         Were the drawings created during or after the expedition?

·         Were they illustrations of specific specimens or were these images a combination of several observed fish specimens?  

 

 After studying the images and speaking to Archive staff, I came up with a list of questions and additionally learned what made some of these images so important.

  

 

1.     Is there a date? Location? Specimen number?

 

Some images were easy to judge; this is a drawing of a specimen, created in the field.  The following looks a lot like the sketches found in field notes.  It includes a date, location, specimen number, and signature.  The note at the bottom states that the skin of the fish depicted has been preserved.

 

 

 

2.       How “finished” is the image?   

If a sketch is not highly detailed, it was probably made in the field in preparation for a more detailed illustration after the return home. 

  

 

 

Below is a sketch by John Richard originally for publication.

 

 

 

3.     Can you judge the time period based on the artist?  

 

The first drawings above are signed by Joseph Drayton, who worked during the expedition.  The drawing below might be similar to some that were created during the Expedition, but was created by John Richard who was hired after it returned.   

 

 

4.     What can you learn from the notes? 

The image below confused me at first because of how detailed it is.  However, upon reading the notes, I realized this was created from a recently dead specimen.  I learned that colored drawings were an important tool during an expedition, because it might be the only way a researcher would know what a specimen looked like alive. Shortly after preservation, specimens lose their colors.  

 

Some drawings will include notes about colors comparing them to something most people would know.  Another drawing includes the note “colour exactly like the glorious bloom appearance of the fruit of a plum” [Joseph Drayton, illustrator for the United States Exploring Expedition, 1838-1842].

 

 

Note below “Caught with a hook [in] Columbia River at Vancouver.  The neck streak appears bright only while living.  The dark streaks are not bright or plain seeming life.”

 

 

5.     How much of the image is complete?

There are several of these images in the collection.  A specimen may have the same coloring and pattern throughout the entire body.  To save time on a collecting trip, the entire specimen depicted is outlined, but only a portion is detailed or colored; this allows the artist to record just enough information about the specimen’s appearance to create a detailed illustration later.

 

 

  

 

Until working with these images and talking to staff, I had not realized how much information about a specimen was lost simply through death and preservation.  Colors dim and textures change. We catalog the field books to create a tie to information about a specimen’s environment, behavior, and appearance at the time of collecting.  Just like our textual field books, these images provide important details about specimens, augmenting information about some of the oldest in natural history collections.  Try downloading the Download USEE_7186 of the images above.  What details can you find?