Conserve and sustainably use the oceans, seas and marine resources for sustainable development

Barrens topminnow (Fundulus julisia) at Conservation Fisheries, a native stream fish breeding center. This species is endangered (IUCN). It is only found in the Barrens Plateau in middle Tennessee, making it one of the rarest fish in eastern North America. © Joel Sartore 2023 

Friday, May 19 is Endangered Species Day. Not just in Knoxville. The U.S. Postal Service is celebrating the 50th anniversary of the Endangered Species Act by releasing a collection of stamps featuring endangered animals and fishes. All 4,000 of the Endangered Species Limited Edition Collector's Sets are already sold out, but other collector items are still available. The fish were photographed by Joel Sartore, a friend of local nonprofit Conservation Fisheries. His National Geographic Photo Ark collection also features boulder darters, which are native to the Elk River in Middle Tennessee and have been federally listed as endangered since 1988.

Here’s another link to the celebration: Endangered Species Day in the Old City.

Join in various festivities, ranging from Riverside Tattoo Flash Day to Pint Night at Merchants of Beer to honor those critters who may not be with us much longer.

Kids snorkeling on the Little Tennessee River.  Courtesy Jason Meador

The Blue Ridge Snorkel Trail gets you down with Southern Appalachian fish

ASHEVILLE — Snorkeling and looking at freshwater fish are great ways to enjoy Southern streams, and visitors to Western North Carolina will soon have better access to it courtesy of North Carolina Snorkel Trail. Stream access points in numerous locations will boast signs about snorkeling, safety and fish identification.

The concept began with North Carolina Wildlife Resources Commission Mountain Habitat Conservation Coordinator Andrea Leslie, and Luke Etchison of the Western Region Inland Fisheries Division, which surveys aquatic animals by snorkeling. This allows them to look at populations of fish, crayfish and mussels. 

Leslie told Hellbender Press she wants to encourage snorkeling tourism because people love streams, waterfalls and swimming. The sights below the waterline may be less familiar to the general public. 

Southern mountain streams have fish as vibrant and exciting as the Caribbean Sea.

Conservation Fisheries Executive Director Bo Baxter (second from right) leads young students in an inventory of Little River fish. The “Stream School” collaboration with Little River Watershed Association gets kids in creeks and rivers.  Michael Mollish /Tennessee Valley Authority

‘It’s very good for the soul.’ Bo Baxter and Conservation Fisheries focus underwater to save our Southern fishes.

This is the latest installment of an occasional series, Hellbent, profiling citizens and organizations who work to preserve and improve the Southern Appalachian environment.

KNOXVILLE — For more than 35 years, an obscure nonprofit headquartered here has grown into one of the most quietly successful champions of ecology and environmental restoration in the Eastern United States.

Conservation Fisheries, which occupies a 5,000-square foot facility near the Pellissippi State University campus on Division Street, has spent nearly four decades restoring native fish populations to numerous waterways damaged years ago by misguided governmental policies. 

In fact, the mid-20th century saw wildlife officials frequently exterminating key aquatic species to make way for game fish like trout.

“It was bad science, but it was the best they had at the time,” said Conservation Fisheries Executive Director Bo Baxter. “A lot of the central concepts of ecology, like food webs and communities, were not developed back then.”

With the help of GPS coordinates and survey flags, Jordan Stark is able to deploy and locate the exact off-trail placement of soil moisture sensors she placed in Great Smoky Mountains National Park as part of her graduate research at Syracuse University.  Elan Young/Hellbender Press

Foundational ecology moves from before times to nowadays in the Smokies

GATLINBURG — In the Middle Ages, salamanders were thought to come from fire. A log set on the hearth would send them scurrying out of the rotten wood, startling those who had gathered around for warmth. We now know that salamanders, of course, come from water — even the European fire salamander with its flame-like yellow markings.

Over the last 20 years of getting my boots soggy in Great Smoky Mountains National Park, I know these creatures to thrive in the clean, shallow streams and trickles of this temperate rainforest, where annual precipitation is higher than anywhere in the U.S. save for the Pacific Northwest.

One way to become acquainted with the park is through the water that veins through the hills and is transmuted into vapor that floats on the air in misty silence. After a rain, you can slake your thirst from the pools formed in the creases of broad rhododendron leaves. Sit by a shallow, fishless stream for long enough and you might spot the quick movement of a salamander tail, maybe a flash of orange or brown, or notice a tiny black amphibian face peeking out from behind a smooth stone in the creek.