FOSSILS, TEXTILES AND URINE: YORKSHIRE HISTORY

Yorkshire Coast

You may recall the eight-metre Type Specimen of the ichthyosaur, Temnodontosaurus crassimanus, found in an alum quarry in Yorkshire, northern England.

The Yorkshire Museum was given this important ichthyosaur fossil back in 1857 when alum production was still a necessary staple of the textile industry. Without that industry, many wonderful specimens would likely never have been unearthed.

These quarries are an interesting bit of British history as they helped shape the Yorkshire Coast, created an entirely new industry and gave us more than a fixative for dyes. 

With them came the discovery of many remarkable fossil specimens and, oddly, local employment in the collection of urine.

In the 16th century, alum was essential in the textile industry as a fixative for dyes. 

By the first half of the 16th century, the clothing of the Low Countries, German states, and Scandinavia had developed in a different direction than that of England, France, and Italy, although all absorbed the sobering and formal influence of Spanish dress after the mid-1520s. Those fashions held true until the Inquisition when religious persecution, politics and fashion underwent a much-needed overhaul to something lighter.

Fashion in Medieval Livonia (1521): Albrecht Dürer

Elaborate slashing was popular, especially in Germany. In the depiction you see here, an artist pokes a bit of fun at Germanic fashion from the time. Bobbin lace arose from passementerie in the mid-16th century in Flanders, the Flemish Dutch-speaking northern portion of Belgium. Black was increasingly worn for the most formal occasions.

This century saw the rise of the ruff, which grew from a mere ruffle at the neckline to immense, slightly silly, cartwheel shapes. They adorned the necklines of the ultra-wealthy and uber-stylish men and women of the age.

At their most extravagant, ruffs required wire supports and were made of fine Italian reticella, a cutwork linen lace. You can imagine the many hours of skill and patience that would have gone into each piece to create the artful framework of these showy lace collars.

16th Century Fashion / Ruff Collars and Finery

In contrast to all that ruff, lace and cutwork linen, folk needed dyed fabrics. And to fix those dyes, they needed Alum. For a time, Italy was the source of that alum.

The Pope held a tidy monopoly on the industry, supplying both alum and the best dyes. He also did a nice trade in colourful and rare pigments for painting. And for a time, all was well with dandy's strutting their finery to the local fops in Britain.

All that changed during the Reformation. Great Britain, heathens as they were, were cut off from their Papal source and needed to fend for themselves.

The good Thomas Challoner took up the charge and set up Britain's first Alum works in Guisborough. Challoner looked to palaeontology for inspiration. Noticing that the fossils found on the Yorkshire coast were very similar to those found in the Alum quarries in Europe, he hatched a plan to set-up an alum industry on home soil. 

As the industry grew, sites along the coast were favoured as access to the shales and subsequent transportation was much easier.

Alum House, Photo: Joyce Dobson and Keith Bowers

Alum was extracted from quarried shales through a large scale and complicated process which took months to complete. 

The process involved extracting then burning huge piles of shale for 9 months, before transferring it to leaching pits to extract an aluminium sulphate liquor. This was sent along channels to the alum works where human urine was added.

At the peak of alum production, the industry required 200 tonnes of urine every year. That's the equivalent of all the potty visits of more than 1,000 people. Yes, strange but true.

The steady demand was hard to keep up with and urine became an imported resource from markets as far away as London and Newcastle upon Tyne in the northeast of England. Wooden buckets were left on street corners for folk to do their business then carted back to the south to complete the alum extraction process. The urine and alum would be mixed into a thick liquid. Once mixed, the aromatic slosh was left to settle and then the alum crystals were removed.

I'm not sure if this is a folktale or plain truth, but as the story goes, one knows when the optimum amount of alum had been extracted as you can pop an egg in the bucket and it floats on its own.

Alum House. Photo: Ann Wedgewood and Keith Bowers

The last Alum works on the Yorkshire Coast closed in 1871. This was due to the invention of manufacturing synthetic alum in 1855, then subsequently the creation of aniline dyes that contained their own fixative.

Many sites along the Yorkshire Coast bear evidence of the alum industry. These include Loftus Alum Quarries where the cliff profile is drastically changed by extraction and huge shale tips remain.

Further South are the Ravenscar Alum Works, which are well-preserved and enable visitors to visualize the processes which took place. The photos you see here are of Alum House at Hummersea. The first shows the ruin of Alum House printed on a postcard from 1906. The second (bottom) image shows the same ruin from on high with Cattersty Point in the background.

The good folk at the National Trust in Swindon are to thank for much of the background shared here. If you'd like to learn more about the Yorkshire area or donate to a very worthy charity, follow their link below.

Reference: https://www.nationaltrust.org.uk/yorkshire-coast/features/how-alum-shaped-the-yorkshire-coast

THE LION BENEATH THE TOWER

Behind the glass of the Natural History Museum in London rests the skull of a lion that once prowled—not across the sun-baked mountains of North Africa—but within the stone walls of medieval London.

This is the skull of a Barbary lion, Panthera leo leo, one of the magnificent great cats once found across the Atlas Mountains and coastal forests of Morocco, Algeria and Tunisia. 

Barbary lions were renowned for their powerful bodies and, in adult males, luxuriant dark manes that often swept over the shoulders and beneath the belly. They were lions dressed for drama—and fully aware that subtlety was someone else’s problem.

The animal represented by this skull lived between approximately 1280 and 1385. It was not discovered in Morocco, however, but beneath the old moat surrounding the Tower of London.

In 1937, workmen excavating the filled-in moat uncovered two remarkably well-preserved lion skulls. Radiocarbon dating later revealed that the younger animal lived between 1420 and 1480, while this older skull belonged to a lion kept some 700 years ago. Genetic analysis identified both animals as Barbary lions.

The older specimen is the earliest lion found in Britain since the disappearance of the wild cave lions that inhabited the region during the last Ice Age. Unlike those ancient predators, however, this lion did not reach Britain under its own considerable power. It was almost certainly transported from North Africa as a royal possession.

For centuries, the Tower of London housed the Royal Menagerie—a collection of exotic animals presented to English monarchs as diplomatic gifts or acquired as demonstrations of royal wealth and influence. 

The menagerie operated a surprisingly long time—from the 1200s until 1835.

Lions occupied a particularly prominent place near the Tower’s entrance, where they served as living symbols of courage, nobility and royal authority.

Nothing says “welcome to the palace” quite like several enormous carnivores watching you approach.

The menagerie also held leopards, elephants, monkeys, bears and even a polar bear, which was reportedly allowed to fish in the River Thames while secured by a chain. These animals must have appeared almost mythical to medieval Londoners, most of whom knew distant wildlife only through travellers’ stories, illustrated manuscripts and some deeply imaginative medieval artwork.

Life inside the Tower was far less splendid for the animals themselves. Many suffered from cramped conditions, inadequate diets and poor health. The lions may have symbolized royal power, but they remained captives far from the landscapes in which their bodies and behaviours had evolved.

That history gives this skull a haunting weight. Its broad muzzle, powerful jaws and deep attachment points for the muscles of the head speak of a formidable predator. Its large canine teeth were built to seize and hold struggling prey, while the blade-like carnassial teeth farther back in the jaw sliced through flesh with the efficiency of biological shears.

Yet none of that strength could return this animal to the Atlas Mountains.

Barbary lions once hunted Barbary deer, gazelles and wild boar across North Africa. Centuries of habitat loss, shrinking prey populations and relentless hunting gradually drove them from the wild. 

The last widely cited confirmed wild Barbary lion was killed in Morocco in 1922, although unconfirmed sightings continued for several decades. Lions with possible Barbary ancestry survive in captivity, but the original wild population is gone.

Today, this medieval lion has exchanged one royal residence for another kind of palace. Its skull now holds pride of place in the Treasures Gallery at London’s Natural History Museum, where it tells several stories at once: the evolutionary history of lions, the vanished wildlife of North Africa, the strange extravagance of medieval royalty and humanity’s long, complicated desire to possess the wild things we admire.

It is a magnificent specimen—but also a melancholy one.

Seven centuries after this lion looked out from behind the walls of the Tower, its empty eyes still command our attention. The king who owned it is long gone. The menagerie has vanished. The wild Barbary lions have disappeared.

FOSSILS, LIMESTONE AND SALT: HALLSTATT

Hallstatt Salt Mines, Austria / Permian Salt Diapir

The Hallstatt Limestone is the world's richest Triassic ammonite unit, yielding specimens of more than 500 ammonite species.

Along with diversified cephalopod fauna  — orthoceratids, nautiloids, ammonoids — we also see gastropods, bivalves, especially the late Triassic pteriid bivalve Halobia (the halobiids), brachiopods, crinoids and a few corals. 

We also see a lovely selection of microfauna represented. 

For microfauna, we see conodonts, foraminifera, sponge spicules, radiolaria, floating crinoids and holothurian sclerites —  polyp-like, soft-bodied invertebrate echinozoans often referred to as sea cucumbers because of their similarities in size, elongate shape, and tough skin over a soft interior. 

Franz von Hauer’s exhaustive 1846 tome describing Hallstatt ammonites inspired renowned Austrian geologist Eduard Suess’s detailed study of the area’s Mesozoic history. That work was instrumental in Suess being the first person to recognize the former existence of the Tethys Sea, which he named in 1893 after the sister of Oceanus, the Greek god of the ocean. 

As part of the Northern Limestone Alps, the Dachstein rock mass, or Hoher Dachstein, is one of the large karstic mountains of Austria and the second-highest mountain in the Northern Limestone Alps. It borders Upper Austria and Styria in central Austria and is the highest point in each of those states.

Parts of the massif also lie in the state of Salzburg, leading to the mountain being referred to as the Drei-Länder-Berg or three-state mountain. Seen from the north, the Dachstein massif is dominated by the glaciers with the rocky summits rising beyond them. 

By contrast, to the south, the mountain drops almost vertically to the valley floor. The karst limestones and dolomites were deposited in our Mesozoic seas. The geology of the Dachstein massif is dominated by the Dachstein-Kalk Formation — the Dachstein limestone — which dates back to the Triassic.

Hallstatt and the Hallstatt Sea, Austria

There were several phases of mountain building in this part of the world pushing the limestone deposits 3,000 metres above current sea level. 

The rock strata were originally deposited horizontally, then shifted, broken up and reshaped by the erosive forces of ice ages and erosion.

The Hallstatt mine exploits a Permian salt diapir that makes up some of this area’s oldest rock. 

The salt accumulated by evaporation in the newly opened, and hence shallow, Hallstatt-Meliata Ocean. 

This was one of several small ocean basins that formed in what is now Europe during the late Paleozoic and early Mesozoic when the world’s landmasses were welded together to form the supercontinent Pangea. 

Pangea was shaped like a crescent moon that cradled the famous Tethys Sea. Subduction of Tethyian oceanic crust caused several slivers of continental crust to separate from Pangea, forming new “back-arc basins” (small oceans formed by rifting that is associated with nearby subduction) between the supercontinent and the newly rifted ribbon continents.

The Hallstatt-Meliata Ocean was one such back-arc basin. As it continued to expand and deepen during the Triassic, evaporation ceased and reefs flourished; thick limestone deposits accumulated atop the salt. 

When the Hallstatt-Meliata Ocean closed in the Late Jurassic, the compression squeezed the low-density salt into a diapir that rose buoyantly, injecting itself into the Triassic limestones above.

The Hallstatt salt diapir and its overlying limestone cap came to rest in their present position in the northern Austrian Alps when they were shoved northward as nappes (thrust sheets) during two separate collision events, one in the Cretaceous and one in the Eocene, that created the modern Alps. It is from the Hallstatt salt diapir that Hallstatt, like so many cities and towns, gets its name.

Deposits of rock salt or halite, the mineral name of sodium chloride with the chemical formula of NaCl, are found and mined around the globe. These deposits mark the dried remains of ancient oceans and seas. Names of rivers, towns and cities in Europe — Salzburg, Halle, Hallstatt, Hallein, La Salle, Moselle — all pay homage to their connection to halite and salt production. The Greek word for salt is hals and the Latin is sal. The Turkish name for salt is Tuz, which we see in the naming of Tuzla, a salt-producing region of northeastern Bosnia-Herzegovina and in the names of towns that dot the coast of Turkey where it meets the Black Sea. Hallstatt with its salt diapir is no exception.

The salt-named town of Hallstatt sits on the shores of the idyllic Hallstätter Sea at the base of the Dachstein massif. Visiting it today, you experience a quaint traditional fishing village built in the typical upper Austrian style. Tourism drives the economy as much as salt as this area of the world is picture-perfect from every angle.

Space is at a minimum in the town. For centuries, every ten years the local cemetery exhumes the bones of those buried there and moves them to an ossuary to make room for new burials. The Hallstatt Ossuary is called Karner, Charnel House, or simply Beinhaus (Bone House). Karners are places of secondary burials. They were once common in the Eastern Alps, but that custom has largely disappeared.

Hallstatt Beinhaus Ossuary, Hallstatt, Austria

A collection of over 700 elaborately decorated skulls rest inside the ossuary. They are lined up on rows of wooden shelves that grace the walls of the chapel. Another 500 undecorated skulls, bare and without any kind of adornment, are stacked in the corners.

Each is inscribed and attached to a record with the deceased's name, profession and date of death. The Bone House is located in a chapel in the basement of the Church of Saint Michael. The church dates from the 12th century CE. 

Decorating the skulls was traditionally the job of the local gravedigger and an honour granted to very few. At the family's request, garlands of flowers were painted on the skulls of deceased as decorative crowns if they were female. The skulls of men and boys were painted wreaths of oak or ivy.

Every building in Hallstatt looks out over the Hallstätter Sea. This beautiful mountain lake considered one of the finest of Austria's Salzkammergut region. It lies at the northern foot of the Dachstein mountain range, sitting eight-and-a-half kilometres long and two kilometres wide. The shoreline is dotted by the villages of  Obertraun, Steeg, and Hallstatt.

The region is habitat to a variety of diverse flora and fauna, including many rare species such as native orchids, in the wetlands and moors in the south and north.

Linked by road to the cities of Salzburg and Graz, Hallstatt and its lake were declared one of the World Heritage sites in Austria in 1997 and included in the Hallstatt-Dachstein Salzkammergut Alpine UNESCO World Heritage Site. The little market village of Hallstatt takes its name from the local salt mine.

Hallstatt, Salzkammergut region, Austria

The town is a popular tourist destination with its quaint shops and terraced cafes. In the centre of town, the 19th-century Evangelical Church of Hallstatt with its tall, slender spire is a lakeside landmark. You can see it here in the photo on the left.

Above the town are the Hallstatt Salt mines located within the 1,030-meter-tall Salzburg Salt Mountain. They are accessible by cable car or a three-minute journey aboard the funicular railway. There is also a wonderful Subterranean Salt Lake.

In 1734, there was a corpse found here preserved in salt. The fellow became known as the Man in Salt. Though no archaeological analysis was performed at the time — the mummy was respectfully reburied in the Hallstatt cemetery — based on descriptions in the mine records, archaeologists suspect the miner lived during the Iron Age. This Old Father, Senos ph₂tḗr, 'ɸatīr 'father' may have been a local farmer, metal-worker, or both and chatted with his friends and family in Celtic or Proto-Celtic.

Salt mining in the area dates back to the Neolithic period, from the 8th to 5th Centuries BC. This is around the time that Roman legions were withdrawing from Britain and the Goths sacked Rome. In Austria, agricultural settlements were dotting the landscape and the alpine regions were being explored and settled for their easy access to valuable salt, chert and other raw materials.

The salt-rich mountains of Salzkammergut and the upland valley above Hallstatt were attractive for this reason. The area was once home to the Hallstatt culture, an archaeological group linked to Proto-Celtic and early Celtic people of the Early Iron Age in Europe, c.800–450 BC.

Bronze Age vessel with cow and calf

In the 19th century, a burial site was discovered with 2,000 individuals, many of them buried with Bronze Age artefacts of amber and ivory.

It was this find that helped lend the name Hallstatt to this epoch of human history. The Late Iron Age, between around 800 and 400 BC, became known as the Hallstatt Period.

For its rich history, natural beauty and breathtaking mountainous geology, Hallstatt is a truly irresistible corner of the world.

Salzbergstraße 1, 4830 Hallstatt.  https://www.salzwelten.at/en/home/

Photo: Bronze vessel with cow and calf, Hallstatt by Alice Schumacher - Naturhistorisches Museum Wien - A. Kern – K. Kowarik – A. W. Rausch – H. Reschreiter, Salz-Reich. 7000 Jahre Hallstatt, VPA 2 (Wien, 2008) Seite 133 Abbildung 6. Hallstatt Village & Ossuary Photos: P. McClure Photography ca. 2015.

Bernoulli D, Jenkyns HC (1974) Alpine, Mediterranean, and Central Atlantic Mesozoic facies in relation to the early evolution of the Tethys. Soc Econ Paleont Mineral Spec Publ 19:129–160

Bernoulli D, Jenkyns H (2009) Ancient oceans and continental margins of the Alpine-Mediterranean Tethys: deciphering clues from Mesozoic pelagic sediments and ophiolites. Sedimentology 56:149–190

FOSSILS AND FIRST NATIONS HISTORY: NOOTKA

Nootka Fossil Field Trip. Photo: John Fam

The rugged west coast of Vancouver Island offers spectacular views of a wild British Columbia. Here the seas heave along the shores slowly eroding the magnificent deposits that often contain fossils. 

Just off the shores of Vancouver Island, east of Gold River and south of Tahsis is the picturesque and remote Nootka Island.

This is the land of the proud and thriving Nuu-chah-nulth First Nations who have lived here always. 

Always is a long time, but we know from oral history and archaeological evidence that the Mowachaht and Muchalaht peoples lived here, along with many others, for many thousands of years — a time span much like always. 

While we know this area as Nootka Sound and the land we explore for fossils as Nootka Island, these names stem from a wee misunderstanding. 

Just four years after the 1774 visit by Spanish explorer Juan Pérez — and only a year before the Spanish established a military and fur trading post on the site of Yuquot — the Nuu-chah-nulth met the Englishman, James Cook.  

Captain Cook sailed to the village of Yuquot just west of Vancouver Island to a very warm welcome. He and his crew stayed on for a month of storytelling, trading and ship repairs. Friendly, but not familiar with the local language, he misunderstood the name for both the people and land to be Nootka. In actual fact, Nootka means, go around, go around. 

Two hundred years later, in 1978, the Nuu-chah-nulth chose the collective term Nuu-chah-nulth — nuučaan̓uł, meaning all along the mountains and sea or along the outside (of Vancouver Island) — to describe themselves. 

It is a term now used to describe several First Nations people living along western Vancouver Island, British Columbia. 

It is similar in a way to the use of the United Kingdom to refer to the lands of England, Scotland and Wales — though using United Kingdom-ers would be odd. Bless the Nuu-chah-nulth for their grace in choosing this collective name.  

An older term for this group of peoples was Aht, which means people in their language and is a component in all the names of their subgroups, and of some locations — Yuquot, Mowachaht, Kyuquot, Opitsaht. While collectively, they are the Nuu-chah-nulth, be interested in their more regional name should you meet them. 

But why does it matter? If you have ever mistakenly referred to someone from New Zealand as an Aussie or someone from Scotland as English, you have likely been schooled by an immediate — sometimes forceful, sometimes gracious — correction of your ways. The best answer to why it matters is because it matters.

Each of the subgroups of the Nuu-chah-nulth viewed their lands and seasonal migration within them (though not outside of them) from a viewpoint of inside and outside. Kla'a or outside is the term for their coastal environment and hilstis for their inside or inland environment.

It is to their kla'a that I was most keen to explore. Here, the lovely Late Eocene and Early Miocene exposures offer up fossil crab, mostly the species Raninid, along with fossil gastropods, bivalves, pine cones and spectacularly — a singular seed pod. These wonderfully preserved specimens are found in concretion along the foreshore where time and tide erode them out each year.

Five years after Spanish explorer Juan Pérez's first visit, the Spanish built and maintained a military post at Yuquot where they tore down the local houses to build their own structures and set up what would become a significant fur trade port for the Northwest Coast — with the local Chief Maquinna's blessing and his warriors acting as middlemen to other First Nations. 

Following reports of Cook's exploration British traders began to use the harbour of Nootka (Friendly Cove) as a base for a promising trade with China in sea-otter pelts but became embroiled with the Spanish who claimed (albeit erroneously) sovereignty over the Pacific Ocean. 

Dan Bowen searching an outcrop. Photo: John Fam

The ensuing Nootka Incident of 1790 nearly led to war between Britain and Spain (over lands neither could actually claim) but talk of war settled and the dispute was settled diplomatically. 

George Vancouver on his subsequent exploration in 1792 circumnavigated the island and charted much of the coastline. His meeting with the Spanish captain Bodega y Quadra at Nootka was friendly but did not accomplish the expected formal ceding of land by the Spanish to the British. 

It resulted however in his vain naming the island "Vancouver and Quadra." The Spanish captain's name was later dropped and given to the island on the east side of Discovery Strait. Again, another vain and unearned title that persists to this day.

Early settlement of the island was carried out mainly under the sponsorship of the Hudson's Bay Company whose lease from the Crown amounted to 7 shillings per year — that's roughly equal to £100.00 or $174 CDN today. Victoria, the capital of British Columbia, was founded in 1843 as Fort Victoria on the southern end of Vancouver Island by the Hudson's Bay Company's Chief Factor, Sir James Douglas. 

With Douglas's help, the Hudson's Bay Company established Fort Rupert on the north end of Vancouver Island in 1849. Both became centres of fur trade and trade between First Nations and solidified the Hudson's Bay Company's trading monopoly in the Pacific Northwest.

The settlement of Fort Victoria on the southern tip of Vancouver Island — handily south of the 49th parallel — greatly aided British negotiators to retain all of the islands when a line was finally set to mark the northern boundary of the United States with the signing of the Oregon Boundary Treaty of 1846. Vancouver Island became a separate British colony in 1858. British Columbia, exclusive of the island, was made a colony in 1858 and in 1866 the two colonies were joined into one — becoming a province of Canada in 1871 with Victoria as the capital.

Dan Bowen, Chair of the Vancouver Island Palaeontological Society (VIPS) did a truly splendid talk on the Fossils of Nootka Sound. With his permission, I have uploaded the talk to the ARCHEA YouTube Channel for all to enjoy. Do take a boo, he is a great presenter. Dan also graciously provided the photos you see here. The last of the photos you see here is from the August 2021 Nootka Fossil Field Trip. Photo: John Fam, Vice-Chair, Vancouver Paleontological Society (VanPS).

Know Before You Go — Nootka Trail

The Nootka Trail passes through the traditional lands of the Mowachaht/Muchalat First Nations who have lived here since always. They share this area with humpback and Gray whales, orcas, seals, sea lions, black bears, wolves, cougars, eagles, ravens, sea birds, river otters, insects and the many colourful intertidal creatures that you'll want to photograph.

This is a remote West Coast wilderness experience. Getting to Nootka Island requires some planning as you'll need to take a seaplane or water taxi to reach the trailhead. The trail takes 4-8 days to cover the 37 km year-round hike. The peak season is July to September. Permits are not required for the hike. 

Access via: Air Nootka floatplane, water taxi, or MV Uchuck III

• Dan Bowen, VIPS on the Fossils of Nootka: https://youtu.be/rsewBFztxSY
• https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/sir-james-douglas
• file:///C:/Users/tosca/Downloads/186162-Article%20Text-199217-1-10-20151106.pdf
• Nootka Trip Planning: https://mbguiding.ca/nootka-trail-nootka-island/#overview

OYSTERS ON THE HALF SHELL

One of the now rare species of oysters in the Pacific Northwest is the Olympia oyster, Ostrea lurida, (Carpenter, 1864).  

While rare today, these are British Columbia’s only native oyster. 

Had you been dining on their brethren in the 1800s or earlier, it would have been this species you were consuming. Middens from Port Hardy to California are built from Ostrea lurida.

These wonderful invertebrates bare their souls with every bite. Have they lived in cold water, deep beneath the sea, protected from the sun's rays and heat? Are they the rough and tumble beach denizens whose thick shells tell us of a life spent withstanding the relentless pounding of the sea? Is the oyster in your mouth thin and slimy having just done the nasty—spurred by the warming waters of Spring? 

Is this oyster a local or was it shipped to your current local and, if asked, would greet you with "Kon'nichiwa?" Not if the beauty on your plate is indeed Ostrea lurida. 

Oyster in Kwak'wala is t̕łox̱t̕łox̱

We have been cultivating, indeed maximizing the influx of invasive species to the cold waters of the Salish Sea for many years. 

But in the wild waters off the coast of British Columbia is the last natural abundant habitat of the tasty Ostrea lurida in the pristine waters of  Nootka Sound. 

The area is home to the Nuu-chah-nulth First Nations who have consumed this species boiled or steamed for thousands of years. Here these ancient oysters not only survive but thrive — building reefs and providing habitat for crab, anemones and small marine animals. 

Oysters are in the family Ostreidae — the true oysters. Their lineage evolved in the Early Triassic — 251 - 247 million years ago. 

In the Kwak̓wala language of the Kwakwaka'wakw, speakers of Kwak'wala, of the Pacific Northwest and my family, an oyster is known as t̕łox̱t̕łox̱. 

I am curious to learn if any of the Nuu-chah-nulth have a different word for an oyster. If you happen to know, I would be grateful to learn.

HORNBY ISLAND EXPLORERS AND THE QUEST FOR IMMORTALITY

Ja-dai-aich, the outer island

There is an old saying that history is written by the victors. In paleontology, it is often written by whoever got to publish first.

Villains, tyrants, heroes, eccentrics and the occasional delightful oddball all find a measure of immortality in the scientific literature. 

Every newly described species is gifted a scientific name, and for centuries many of the people doing the naming also rechristened landscapes through a distinctly colonial, settler lens. 

Indigenous names—rich with thousands of years of history and meaning—were too often brushed aside in favour of commemorating European explorers, patrons and rivals.

Spend enough time wandering through old scientific papers and expedition journals and it begins to read like a who's who of wealthy European adventurers busily naming everything after themselves—or, just as often, ensuring it wasn't named after someone they disliked. 

Scientific rivalries could be every bit as dramatic—and, if we're being honest, astonishingly childish—as any soap opera, complete with bruised egos, bitter feuds and spectacular acts of professional revenge.

That story unfolds across British Columbia's coast and Gulf Islands, and nowhere do I feel it more keenly than on beautiful Hornby Island.

Arbutus Tree, qaanlhp

Hornby lies within the traditional territory of the Pentlatch and K'ómoks First Nations, who know the island as Ja-dai-aich, meaning the outer island—a perfect description of its position beyond Denman Island along the east coast of Vancouver Island.

It is a place I never tire of exploring.

The island is a beautiful tapestry of beaches, meadows, forests and winding streams. I often wander the lower shoreline, searching for fossils, but the higher ground holds equally wonderful treasures. 

Quiet forest trails weave beneath towering evergreens, inviting you to slow your pace and simply listen.

Venture off the beaten path and you'll find magnificent stands of Western Hemlock (Tsuga heterophylla), Grand Fir (Abies grandis) and Lodgepole Pine (Pinus contorta). 

Amongst them stands the true monarch of these forests: the Western Red Cedar, Thuja plicata.

For many First Nations along the Northwest Coast, cedar is rightly known as the Tree of Life. It provides the raw materials for homes, canoes, clothing, baskets, rope, hats, bentwood boxes, monumental poles and breathtaking works of art. Generations have and continue to flourish alongside this remarkable tree.

Look a little closer and another quiet treasure reveals itself.

The Pacific yew (Taxus brevifolia) is a much smaller evergreen, easy to overlook if you're rushing. Yet it has long been treasured by Indigenous carvers, whose skill transformed its remarkably strong, resilient wood into elegant bows, canoe paddles and finely crafted tools.

Camus in flower

Along the shoreline grows perhaps my favourite tree on the island—the Pacific Arbutus (Arbutus menziesii), or qaanlhp in Hul'q'umi'num'. If Hornby had a signature tree, this would surely be it. 

It adorns much of Vancouver Island and I received a lovely photograph just this morning of a colleague's view of Maple Bay with a beautiful Arbutus front and centre. 

Its rich cinnamon-orange bark peels away in delicate curls, revealing smooth green and silvery trunks that almost seem polished by hand. In the evening light they glow with a satiny warmth unlike any other tree in British Columbia.

Hornby also supports an impressive collection of broadleaf species. Bigleaf maple, red alder, black cottonwood, Pacific flowering dogwood, cascara and several willow species all thrive here, each adding another layer to this remarkably diverse coastal forest.

At the island's southern end and within Helliwell Provincial Park, ancient Garry oak (Quercus garryana) woodlands cling to rocky headlands overlooking the Salish Sea.

These landscapes did not arise by accident.

For thousands of years, local First Nations carefully managed these ecosystems through the thoughtful use of cultural burning. Regular low-intensity fires reduced shrubs and competing woody vegetation while allowing the thick-barked Garry oaks and nutrient-rich plants such as great camas (Camassia leichtlinii) to flourish. These carefully tended meadows provided abundant food and sustained rich ecological communities long before Europeans arrived.

Hornby Island, British Columbia

Ethnobotanist Dr. Nancy Turner (who is a love) estimates that a single Coast Salish family on Vancouver Island could harvest around 10,000 camus bulbs in a single season, with millions of camas bulbs and up to 10,000,000 collected annually across the island.

Today, only about 260 acres (1.1 km²) of undisturbed old forest remain on Hornby Island—roughly 3.5% of its total land area. Another 1,330 acres (540 hectares) survive as older second-growth forest, representing about 19% of the island.

The tree you'll notice most often, however, is the Douglas-fir (Pseudotsuga menziesii), an evergreen conifer that dominates much of Hornby's landscape.

My Uncle Doug never needed a field guide to identify one.

"The bark looks just like bacon," he'd announce with absolute certainty. It was, admittedly, a wonderfully effective identification trick—and given his enthusiasm for bacon, entirely on brand.

Hornby Island Fossils

The common name honours Scottish botanist David Douglas, who collected and described the species during his explorations of western North America.

But scientific names tell a different story.

The species name, menziesii, honours Archibald Menzies—the Scottish physician, botanist and naturalist who happened to be Douglas's fierce scientific rival. If that feels a little unfair to poor David Douglas... well... science has always had a flair for office politics.

Menzies is also remembered every time we admire an arbutus, Arbutus menziesii. His opportunity came aboard Captain George Vancouver's famous expedition between 1791 and 1795, a remarkable four-and-a-half-year voyage commissioned by the British Royal Navy to chart the Pacific Coast.

Their expedition built directly upon the earlier work of Captain James Cook.

Archibald Menzies

Cook deserves considerable credit for revolutionizing life at sea. He dramatically reduced deaths from scurvy by insisting upon fresh foods rich in what we now know as Vitamin C, alongside rigorous standards of shipboard cleanliness.

Yet history, like people, is rarely simple.

Cook also embodied the ambitions of British colonial expansion, and his treatment of Indigenous peoples is deeply troubling. During his third Pacific voyage, he attempted to kidnap Hawaiʻi's ruling chief, Kalaniʻōpuʻu, hoping to secure the return of a stolen boat.

It proved a catastrophic miscalculation.

On 14 February 1779, Cook was killed during the confrontation. Not exactly the Valentine's Day anyone hopes for.

Meanwhile, Vancouver's own expedition spent four and a half extraordinary years circumnavigating the globe, reaching five continents while surveying vast stretches of coastline that had never before appeared on European maps.

The greatest hazards aboard ship were not always storms or reefs. Sometimes they were one another. Officers quarreled relentlessly. Rivalries simmered. Tempers flared.

When the expedition finally returned to Britain, public interest had shifted toward ongoing wars rather than distant Pacific discoveries. Vancouver himself soon found his reputation under attack, including criticism from the politically influential Archibald Menzies. Matters deteriorated further when Thomas Pitt, the 2nd Baron Camelford, challenged Vancouver to a duel.

By then, years of relentless work had taken their toll.

With failing health and frayed nerves, George Vancouver never completed the monumental charts and publications that had consumed so much of his life. He died in 1798 at only forty years of age.

Much of his unfinished work was ultimately completed by Peter Puget, whose own name now lives on in Puget Sound.

Even the city we call Vancouver carries older names and older histories.

It stands within the traditional territories of three Coast Salish Nations: the Sḵwx̱wú7mesh (Squamish), səlilwətaɬ (Tsleil-Waututh) and xʷməθkʷəy̓əm (Musqueam) peoples. The name Musqueam derives from xʷməθkʷəy̓əm, referring to an edible grass that once grew abundantly along the river's edge.

Long before maps bore European names, these places already had names. They still do.

As fossil hunters, geologists and lovers of natural history, we spend much of our lives reading stories written in stone. Yet the landscapes themselves carry stories every bit as ancient in the languages and knowledge of the people who have called them home for millennia.

Perhaps the richest history is found where those stories meet.

If eponymous names and the colourful personalities behind them pique your curiosity, Stephen B. Heard's wonderful book Charles Darwin's Barnacle and David Bowie's Spider is well worth adding to your reading pile. It explores the wonderfully strange world of scientific naming through an entertaining blend of history, science and pop culture—and reminds us that behind every Latin name lies an equally fascinating human story.

References

The City of Vancouver Archives preserves several important documents relating to George Vancouver, including:

The Commission dated 10 July 1783 appointing him Fourth Lieutenant of HMS Fame, confirming the field commission originally granted on 7 May 1782.

A letter written to naval agent James Sykes aboard HMS Discovery from Nootka Sound on 2 October 1794, in which Vancouver reports that the long-sought Northwest Passage does not exist—one of the principal objectives of the expedition.

A final letter to James Sykes written from Vancouver's home in Petersham, England, dated 26 October 1797, following his return from the Pacific.

Image: Archibald Menzies (1754–1842), Scottish physician and naturalist

CTENOPHORES: CANNIBALISTIC COMB JELLIES

Cannibalistic Comb Jellies

This festive lantern looking lovely belongs to a group of invertebrates known as comb jellies.

Comb jellies are named for their unique plates of giant fused cilia, or combs, which run in eight rows up and down the length of their bodies. 

They are armed with sticky cells or colloblasts, that do not sting but display wonderful bioluminescent colouring as they move through the sea.

Ctenophores or comb jellies are one of the phylogenetically most important and controversial metazoan groups. 

Looks can be deceiving. At first glance you might think you are looking at a jellyfish but this is not the case. Surprisingly, they are not jellyfish and are not closely related, though they do share some characteristics with the gelatinous members of the subphylum Medusozoa. 

Comb jellies are not picky eaters. Their tastes range to what is at hand, including cannibalizing other comb jellies. They will feast on their kin along with tasty plankton, zooplankton, crustaceans and wee fish.

Interest in their fossil record has been catalysed by spectacularly preserved soft-bodied specimens from Cambrian Lagerstätten of the 518-million-years-old Chengjiang Biota, the 505-million-years-old Burgess Shale and other Burgess Shale-like deposits. 

We find them in the Late Devonian Escuminac Formation at Miguasha National Park, Quebec, Canada — a UNESCO world heritage site famous for its abundance of well-preserved vertebrate fossils including most major evolutionary groups of Devonian lower vertebrates from jawless fish to stem-tetrapods.

Based on morphological similarities of this Canadian fossil with stem-ctenophore fossils from the Cambrian Lagerstätte of the Chinese locality Chengjiang, they have been assessed for their affinity to stem-group ctenophores (dinomischids, Siphusauctum, scleroctenophorans) and early crown-group ctenophores. Modern ctenophores and many fossil forms lack mineralized hard parts, which renders the rare fossils that have been extracted from several Lagerstätten quite remarkable. 

Like the soft bodies of jellyfish and the polyps of hydrozoans and anthozoans, the probability for such soft bodies (or body regions) to become fossilized is extremely low. In spite of this low preservation potential, remains of stem-ctenophores have become known from several Cambrian and younger conservation deposits, and with even older candidate ctenophores in the Ediacaran. 

While Cambrian Lagerstätten have yielded several genera, ctenophore remains are much rarer in the Devonian; in particular, two studies, describing material from the German Hunsrück Slate. 

Bioluminescent Comb Jellies

This Early Devonian material, however, appears to belong to crown ctenophores morphologically similar to living forms such as Pleurobrachia, unlike the stem Cambrian taxa and the new Devonian stem taxon described here.

The most basal stem ctenophores are the dinomischids: sessile benthic petaloid invertebrates, many of which are equipped with a stalk. This group first was described from the Middle Cambrian Burgess Shale. Based on the genus Dinomischus, these early stalked forms were commonly called ‘dinomischids’. 

Zhao et al. shared that dinomischids "form a grade in the lower part of the ctenophore stem group” and include taxa such as Xianguangia, Daihua, and Dinomischus that have hexaradiate-based symmetry (e.g., sixfold, 18-fold). 

Some later, skeletonised stem-ctenophores were termed ‘Scleroctenophora’; ‘scleroctenophorans’ have a shorter stalk, lack the ‘petals’ and have no bracts and might be monophyletic. 

To date, all known dinomischids and scleroctenophorans are Cambrian. Remarkably, analysis of the material described here suggests it is a very late-surviving member of this part of the ctenophore tree, occurring in strata over a hundred million years younger with no intervening known record, thus making it a Lazarus taxon with an extensive ghost lineage. 

Palaeozoic sediments yield a growing number of fossil invertebrates with radial symmetries, some being quite enigmatic with body plans differing radically from those of extant organisms.

The morphological similarities to Cambrian forms and the mix of characters regarding overall shape and symmetries render this discovery important. The aims of this study are to describe the only known specimen of this Devonian ctenophore, discuss its phylogenetic and systematic position, and the impact of fossil data for ctenophore affinities, and assess its palaeoecological role.

WADI AL-HITAN: VALLEY OF THE WHALES

Fossil Whale Skeleton, Wadi Al-Hitan

Egypt’s Eocene limestones captivate geologists and paleontologists from around the world. 

These pale, fossil-rich rocks hold the story of an ancient sea and the remarkable creatures that once swam through it.

Modern fieldwork in the Fayum Depression, Wadi Al-Hitan — the Valley of the Whales — and the outcrops near Giza and Cairo is revealing how the shoreline of the Tethys Ocean shifted over tens of millions of years — and how life adapted as land and sea traded places again and again.

Researchers from the Egyptian Geological Museum, the University of Michigan, and Cairo University are combining cutting-edge tools with time-honored field methods. Satellite imaging and drone photogrammetry provide sweeping, high-resolution views of the fossil beds, while detailed stratigraphic logging, sediment sampling, and fossil excavation bring the story into focus layer by layer.

Fossil Whale from Wadi Al-Hitan

The work reveals a stunning environmental transformation. 

The lower rock units record shallow marine deposits packed with Nummulites, corals, and mollusks — life that thrived in the warm, clear waters of the early Eocene Tethys. 

Above these layers, the sediments change in both color and character, grading upward into deltaic and freshwater deposits filled with the fossils of turtles, crocodiles, and early land mammals. It is a geological diary of Egypt’s slow emergence from sea to land.

Wadi Al-Hitan — The Valley of the Whales

Wadi Al-Hitan — The Valley of the Whales

Nestled deep in Egypt’s Western Desert, about 150 kilometers southwest of Cairo, lies Wadi Al-Hitan, one of the world’s most extraordinary fossil sites. 

Once part of the vast Tethys seaway, this now-arid valley was a shallow coastal lagoon some 40 to 50 million years ago, during the Eocene.

Here, teams of paleontologists meticulously map and preserve the articulated skeletons of ancient whales — including Basilosaurus isis and Dorudon atrox — whose bones often lie exactly where the animals came to rest on the seafloor. 

Over time, they were entombed in fine-grained sandstone and limestone, preserving everything from vertebrae and skulls to delicate ribs and vestigial hind limbs.

The surrounding rocks tell a parallel story. Their alternating layers of sandstone, marl, and limestone record shifts in sea level and climate — tidal flats giving way to open marine conditions, then to lagoons choked with vegetation and early mangroves. 

Geochemists analyze the isotopic composition of these sediments to reconstruct ancient seawater temperatures and salinity, while microfossil specialists examine foraminifera and ostracods under the microscope to determine just how deep and warm the waters once were.

Wadi Al-Hitan — The Valley of the Whales

Wadi Al-Hitan’s fossil bounty extends beyond whales. 

The valley has yielded remains of sharks, sawfish, rays, sea cows (Sirenia), turtles, crocodiles, and even early land mammals, offering a vivid snapshot of an ecosystem in transition — one of the last great marine habitats before North Africa began its slow drift toward desert.

The Valley of the Whales is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, protected both for its breathtaking fossil record and its haunting desert beauty. 

Walking through it feels like time travel: the sandstone cliffs glow golden in the sun, and the bones of whales lie half-exposed in the sand — silent witnesses to a vanished ocean. It is a peaceful place to visit. Bone dry, barren but with a rich history.

Fossil Whale from Wadi Al-Hitan

Every fossil, every layer of sediment adds a new brushstroke to the portrait of Egypt’s Eocene world — a subtropical paradise where whales swam through mangroves, coral reefs teemed with life, and the ancestors of modern elephants grazed along the shore.

Beneath the desert sands, these rocks still whisper the story of 50 million years of evolution, of seas that rose and fell, and of creatures that bridged the worlds of land and water — all written in stone.

Photo Credits: Wadi al-Hitan | Wikimedia Commons

BAA-D TO THE BONE: SHEEP IN THE FOSSIL RECORD

The story of sheep begins long before shepherds, wool sweaters, and stone fences. 

It starts in the rugged mountains and open grasslands of Eurasia, where their wild ancestors evolved into some of the most sure-footed herbivores on the planet.

Modern sheep belong to the genus Ovis, part of the Bovidae family—a wonderfully successful group that includes goats, musk oxen, antelope, cattle, bison, and buffalo. 

While the family itself first appears in the fossil record around 18–20 million years ago during the Early Miocene, true sheep arrived considerably later.

The oldest fossils confidently assigned to the genus Ovis are roughly 3 to 4 million years old, dating to the Late Pliocene of Central Asia. 

These early sheep already possessed many of the features we recognize today: sturdy limbs built for climbing steep terrain, high-crowned teeth adapted for grazing abrasive grasses, and, in many species, impressive horns that played an important role in establishing dominance and attracting mates.

Unlike antlers, which are shed each year by deer, sheep horns are permanent structures. They consist of a bony core covered by a keratin sheath that continues to grow throughout life. Fossil skulls preserve the bony core, allowing us to study the size, curvature, and growth patterns of ancient animals in remarkable detail.

One of the best-known fossil sheep is Ovis ammon, the ancestral argali. While living argali still roam the mountains of Central Asia today, fossil representatives reveal a lineage that has endured repeated cycles of glaciation, warming climates, and shifting landscapes throughout the Pleistocene.

During the Ice Age, wild sheep expanded across much of Eurasia and into North America. Their arrival on this continent came by way of Beringia—the broad land bridge that periodically connected Siberia and Alaska when sea levels dropped during glacial periods.

One particularly impressive Ice Age species is Ovis canadensis, the ancestor of today's bighorn sheep. Fossils dating back several hundred thousand years have been recovered from caves, river terraces, and ancient packrat middens throughout western North America. Some populations developed truly spectacular horns, reflecting both healthy nutrition and generations of competition between powerful rams.

Another fascinating relative is Ovis dalli, the ancestor of modern Dall sheep found today in Alaska and northwestern Canada. Fossils show that these hardy mountain specialists persisted through dramatic climatic swings, retreating to suitable alpine habitats as glaciers advanced and expanded again when conditions improved.

We learn an extraordinary amount from fossil sheep. Their teeth record changing diets as grasslands spread across continents. Horns reveal patterns of sexual selection and social behaviour. Limb bones speak of life on precipitous slopes where balance, agility, and endurance meant survival.

Even their dung has stories to tell.

Ancient sheep droppings recovered from caves and rock shelters sometimes preserve pollen, seeds, and plant fragments, offering tiny snapshots of Ice Age vegetation. Together with isotope analysis of fossil bones and teeth, these discoveries help us reconstruct entire ecosystems—revealing not only what sheep were eating, but also the climate, rainfall, and seasonal changes that shaped their world.

Around 10,500 to 11,000 years ago, humans began domesticating wild mouflon (Ovis orientalis) in the Fertile Crescent. This marked one of the great turning points in human history. Sheep became among the earliest domesticated livestock, providing meat, milk, hides, bone, and eventually the wool that transformed clothing, textiles, and trade across civilizations.

Domestic sheep also left a fossil record of sorts. Archaeological sites preserve bones showing changes brought about by selective breeding. Horn size often became reduced, body proportions shifted, and age profiles within herds reveal increasingly sophisticated management by early farming communities.

Today, more than a billion domestic sheep live around the world, descendants of animals that once navigated rugged mountain landscapes long before humans ever imagined weaving wool into cloth.

There is something rather poetic about that continuity.

From windswept Pliocene ridges to Ice Age cliffs, from Neolithic villages to modern farms, sheep have quietly accompanied the changing face of our planet. Their fossils tell us stories of climate, migration, adaptation, and survival over millions of years.

And yes... every one of those magnificent spiral horns began with an ancestor who simply kept putting one hoof in front of the other. Sometimes, steady really does win the evolutionary race.

FOSSILS OF EGYPT: TRACING LIFE FROM LAND TO SEA

Spinosaurus, Fukui Prefectural Dinosaur Museum

Egypt is often celebrated for its pyramids and pharaohs, but beneath those golden sands lies a much older and equally astonishing legacy — the fossil record of a land that has shifted from lush tropical forests to inland seas and back again.

From the Western Desert to the Fayum Depression and Wadi Al-Hitan (the Valley of the Whales), Egypt’s rocks preserve nearly 100 million years of life on Earth, from the Cretaceous dinosaurs that roamed its river plains to the Eocene whales that swam through the Tethys Ocean.

Over the past few posts, we've looked at the geological wonders of Egypt. Here is a deeper look at some of the many interesting fossil species to be found in this rich paleontological playground.

Petrified Wood — A Forest Turned to Stone

Across Egypt’s deserts, the ground often glitters with fossilized trees. The Petrified Wood Protectorate near New Cairo, along the Cairo–Suez road, and wide stretches of the Western Desert are carpeted in ancient trunks and branches turned to stone.

These fossil forests are vivid evidence that much of Egypt was once a humid, tropical landscape, rich with vegetation. The trees, buried in sediments and permineralized over millions of years, became exquisitely preserved in silica. Today, their polished cross-sections shimmer with bands of reds, browns, and golds — a striking reminder of the region’s deep ecological transformations.

Reptiles of the Fayum — Turtles, Crocodiles, and Giants — The Fayum Depression has yielded a wealth of Eocene reptile fossils that speak of a warm, watery world teeming with life. Land tortoises like Testudo ammon roamed the ancient floodplains, while river turtles such as Podocnemis blanckenhorni and Stereogenys pelomedusa swam through slow-moving channels. 

Even more dramatic are the remains of Gigantophis, one of the largest snakes ever discovered, and Tomistoma, a crocodile-like predator from the Qasr al-Sagha Formation. These reptiles hint at an ecosystem that blended mangroves, lagoons, and river deltas — a mosaic of habitats where both freshwater and marine species thrived.

Birds of an Ancient Delta — The Fayum’s fossil beds also record an impressive diversity of Eocene and Oligocene birdlife. The ancient wetlands once supported ospreys (Pandionidae), flamingos (Phoenicopteridae), herons, cranes (Gruidae), cormorants (Phalacrocoracidae), and even the massive shoebilled stork (Balaenicipitidae).

These avian fossils, comparable to species found today around Lake Victoria and the Upper Nile, suggest a vibrant, subtropical ecosystem rich in lakes and marshes — a far cry from the arid desert we see today.

Mammals of the Fayum — Whales, Elephants, and Early Primates

The mammalian fossils of Egypt are among the most extraordinary in the world. In the Fayum Depression and at Wadi Al-Hitan, paleontologists have uncovered a sweeping record of evolution from land to sea and from primitive mammals to the ancestors of modern species.

At Wadi Al-Hitan, skeletons of early whales — Basilosaurus isis, Dorudon atrox, and Phiomicetus — preserve a pivotal evolutionary moment when whales transitioned from walking on land to swimming in the sea. Their long, streamlined bodies and tiny hind limbs are beautiful testaments to nature’s adaptability.

Meanwhile, the terrestrial Fayum deposits reveal a menagerie of early mammals:

• Arsinoitherium, a massive, rhinoceros-like creature with twin horns;
• Moeritherium, a semi-aquatic ancestor of elephants and manatees;
• Palaeomastodon and Phioma, early proboscideans bridging the gap to modern elephants;
• and Megalohyrax, a giant relative of today’s small hyrax.

Carnivorous mammals also prowled these Eocene landscapes — species like Apterodon, Pterodon, and Hyaenodon, formidable predators of their time.

The Fayum Primates — Our Ancient Cousins — Among the Fayum’s most scientifically valuable discoveries are the fossils of early primates, bridging the gap between ancient prosimians and modern monkeys and apes.

From the lower sequence, we find forms like Oligopithecus savagei and Qatrania wingi, while the upper sequence preserves Catopithecus browni, Proteopithecus sylvia, and the well-known Apidium and Parapithecus species.

Perhaps most famous is Aegyptopithecus zeuxis, a small tree-dwelling primate with forward-facing eyes and a relatively large brain. It is often cited as one of the earliest known ancestors of modern Old World monkeys and apes — and, by extension, of humans.

These fossils from the Jebel Qatrani Formation provide an unparalleled window into primate evolution roughly 35 to 30 million years ago, when Africa’s tropical forests were home to our distant kin.

Dinosaurs of the Cretaceous Desert — Long before the whales and primates, Egypt’s landscape was dominated by Cretaceous dinosaurs. The Bahariya Formation and Nubian Sandstone have yielded fossils of immense sauropods and ferocious theropods, painting a vivid picture of life 95 million years ago.

Among the stars of this ancient cast are:

• The long-necked Aegyptosaurus and Paralititan, massive plant-eating sauropods;
• The sleek, predatory Bahariasaurus, Carcharodontosaurus, and Deltadromeus;
• The semi-aquatic Spinosaurus, with its iconic sail-backed spine — perhaps one of the most famous dinosaurs to ever emerge from African rock; and Mansourasaurus, a titanosaur discovered more recently, helping to link Africa’s late Cretaceous fauna with those of Europe and Asia.

These finds demonstrate that Egypt was once a fertile delta world of rivers and floodplains, where dinosaurs thrived long before the Sahara turned to sand.

Egypt’s Fossil Sites — Portals Through Time — Key fossil localities across the country continue to reveal Egypt’s ancient ecosystems:

• Wadi Al-Hitan — Eocene marine fossils, including whales and sea cows.
• Fayum Depression — rich terrestrial and freshwater deposits with early mammals and primates.
• Bahariya Formation — famous for Cretaceous dinosaurs and early vertebrates.
• Jebel Qatrani Formation — Oligocene primates and proboscideans.
• Qasr el Sagha Formation — reptiles, turtles, and early crocodilians.
• Upper Cretaceous Phosphates and Variegated Shale — marine invertebrates and early fish.
• Moghra Oasis — Miocene fossils bridging the gap between ancient and modern fauna.
• Queseir Formation — Upper Cretaceous (Campanian) deposit in the Kharga oasis of the Southwestern Desert where the first side-necked turtle Khargachelys caironensis can be found

Egypt’s fossils offer a spectacular narrative of evolution, climate, and change — from swampy Cretaceous river deltas to lush Eocene seas and forests, to the deserts we see today. 

Each discovery connects the story of Earth’s deep past with the land of the Pharaohs, revealing that Egypt’s most enduring monuments are not her pyramids, nor her simple blocks of stone, but the fossils buried them

Image Credit: Spinosaurus at the special exhibit of Fukui Prefectural Dinosaur Museum by Palaeotaku CC BY 4.0

SPIRIT BEARS OF CANADA'S WEST COAST

Mist clings to the moss-draped cedars, and the river below churns with the silver flash of salmon fighting upstream. 

Then, out of the shadows, a pale figure steps onto the slick stones—a spirit bear, its coat glowing against the emerald forest like a ghost made flesh. 

Each movement is unhurried, deliberate, as if the forest itself pauses to watch. Water beads and slides down its fur, its great head lifting to catch the scent of fish on the wind. 

In that moment, the rainforest hushes—ravens fall silent, even the river seems to soften—leaving only the sound of your breath and the soft trickle of a nearby stream as you realize you are witnessing something few people on Earth ever see.

On the temperate rainforests of British Columbia’s central and north coast, a rare white-furred black bear (Ursus americanus kermodei) roams among towering cedars, moss-draped hemlocks, and salmon-rich rivers. 

Known scientifically as the Kermode bear but more commonly called the spirit bear, this unique subspecies of the American black bear holds both biological and cultural significance. Their pale coats, the result of a genetic variation, have captured global fascination while remaining deeply rooted in the traditions of local First Nations peoples.

Spirit bears are not albinos; rather, their distinctive white coat results from a recessive allele in the melanocortin 1 receptor (MC1R) gene. 

To display the white fur, an individual must inherit the allele from both parents. Roughly 10–20% of the Kermode bear population in some regions are white-coated, though overall only about 1 in 10 black bears in the subspecies carries this trait. The remainder are typically black-furred, indistinguishable from other American black bears at a glance.

Spirit bears inhabit the Great Bear Rainforest, one of the largest remaining intact temperate rainforests in the world, stretching along British Columbia’s remote central and northern coast. 

They are most frequently found on Princess Royal Island and Gribbell Island, as well as smaller portions of the surrounding mainland. These regions offer a rich mosaic of old-growth conifer forests, rivers teeming with salmon, and sheltered estuaries that provide food and cover.

Like other black bears, spirit bears are omnivorous generalists. Their diet changes seasonally:

• Spring: young vegetation, grasses, sedges, and roots.
• Summer: berries (salmonberries, huckleberries, blueberries), insects, and carrion.
• Autumn: spawning Pacific salmon (Oncorhynchus spp.), which form the most critical food source for building fat reserves before winter denning. Salmon runs sustain the bears and also fertilize the forest. Bears often carry fish into the understory, leaving behind nutrients that enrich soil and feed trees, mosses, and invertebrates—a classic example of nutrient cycling.

Spirit bears are generally solitary, though feeding grounds such as salmon streams may bring multiple individuals together. Unlike coastal grizzlies, they tend to avoid confrontations, relying on patience and stealth while fishing. Interestingly, recent research suggests that spirit bears may enjoy a fishing advantage: their pale coats are less visible to salmon in bright daylight, allowing them to capture fish more efficiently than darker bears.

In late autumn, spirit bears retreat to winter dens, often dug into hollow logs, root systems, or natural rock shelters. They enter a state of torpor rather than true hibernation, slowing their metabolism while occasionally rousing during warmer spells. Cubs are born during this denning period, usually in January, and remain with their mothers for 1.5–2.5 years.

For millennia, the white bear has held deep spiritual and cultural meaning for First Nations peoples of the Pacific Northwest, including the Gitga’at, Kitasoo/Xai’xais, and Heiltsuk Nations. 

Known as moksgm’ol among the Gitga’at, the spirit bear is revered as a reminder of the Ice Age, when the land was blanketed in snow and ice. Oral traditions tell that Raven made one in every ten bears white to remind people of the time when glaciers ruled the earth, teaching humility and respect for nature.

Today, First Nations guardians continue to play a central role in protecting spirit bear habitats, leading stewardship programs, guiding visitors, and sharing cultural teachings. Their leadership was instrumental in the establishment of conservation agreements that limit industrial development and preserve the Great Bear Rainforest.

Though not classified as endangered, spirit bears are vulnerable due to their limited genetic distribution and reliance on intact rainforest ecosystems. Logging, habitat fragmentation, and declining salmon populations pose risks. The protection of their habitat through the 2016 Great Bear Rainforest Agreement and ongoing Indigenous stewardship has been critical in ensuring their survival.

Viewing Spirit Bears — Because of their rarity and remote habitat, spirit bears are challenging but not impossible to see in the wild. Some of the best-known viewing opportunities include:

• Princess Royal Island – the largest concentration of spirit bears.
• Gribbell Island – often called the “mother island” of the white bear.
• Kitasoo/Xai’xais territory near Klemtu – guided spirit bear tours led by Indigenous stewards.

Tourism is strictly managed to reduce disturbance and ensure that viewing supports conservation and local communities.

The spirit bear is a striking example of how biology and culture intertwine. Its unique genetics, ecological role in the rainforest, and place in Indigenous oral traditions make it an emblem of both natural wonder and cultural heritage. 

Protecting the spirit bear means safeguarding the Great Bear Rainforest itself—a living system where salmon, cedar, eagle, wolf, and bear are inseparably linked.