There aren’t a whole lot of different butterflies on St. Martin, around 30 species compared to perhaps 1,000 insects total. After not seeing any new butterflies for many months, I saw two new ones in about a week.

The first was along the Crest Trail between Mt. Flagstaff and Pic Paradis. The Zestos skipper (Epargyreus zestos) is fairly large for a skipper, and a lighter brown than other species on the island of a similar size.

The other skipper was also in the highlands, between Hope Hill and Pic Paradis. The dark longtail (Urbanus obscurus) would be easy to overlook, as it looks similar to a couple more common species, the hammock skipper and the long-tailed skipper. Up-close, it is pretty easy to distinguish, as it has fewer markings, and its tails are halfway between the little stubs of the hammock skipper and the very long tails of the long-tailed skipper.

Today I had a fantastic hike from Hope Estate to Pic Paradis via the freshly-cleared Careta Trail. The trail is shady and much more pleasant than the dirt road. I also found three species that I hadn’t ever seen on the island before, including two spiders and a scorpion. Definitely a big day for me! There were also many iridescent jumping spiders, dwarf geckos, tree frogs and many other small and wonderful creatures. I even saw a scaly-naped pigeon, which is a fairly rare sight on the island.

I’ve been spending more time with my plexiglass box and I think the results are pretty nifty. The first set includes spiders and insects from the field behind the Grand Case Cultural Center:

The next day I shot a bunch of invertebrates on the road to Petite Plage:

That night, I tried the box out on some nocturnal critters. I actually found that nocturnal insects seem to be more compliant when it comes to sitting still in a small plastic box, particularly if there is light shining on them. I think because many of them are cryptic, they may stay motionless as a defense mechanism. At any rate, it actually makes using the plexibox easier at night, even when photographing crickets or other insects that could jump out if they chose to.

Of particular note are the photos of the thread-legged bug, which resembles a walking stick and has praying mantis-like forelimbs. Also, I couldn’t resist trying out the plexibox on a couple young Anolis gingivinus.

Locally known as the woodslave, the turnip-tailed gecko (Thecadactylus rapicauda) is a large, native gecko that is seen less regularly than the introduced house gecko. It has huge eyes, partially-webbed feet and toes that are partially split and look like double toes.

Nothing being simple in St. Martin biology, since last year, there actually seem to be two species on the island. A new species (T. oskrobapreinorum) has been described that is known only from St. Martin, primarily distinguished by its coloration, light skin with distinct black spots. Although people have seen geckos like this on St. Martin for years, it has only recently been proposed as a new species.

Below are some photos of T. rapicauda. Given the close relationship between it and its newly-named relative, there is perhaps a bit of a mystery as to how they can coexist on the same island. For example, if T. oskrobapreinorum evolved on St. Martin from T. rapicauda how did it diverge if there was a population of T. rapicauda to breed with? Or perhaps T. oskrobapreinorum evolved in isolation on St. Martin and T. rapicauda was reintroduced more recently. If that’s the case, then does T. rapicauda represent a threat to T. oskrobapreinorum?

Located on the slope of Pic Paradis, Loterie Farm is a great place to visit tropical forest on St. Martin. I guess I haven’t really spent enough time there in general, but this is doubly true at night. So, drinks at the Tree Lounge turned into prowling the grounds with a flashlight.

I didn’t have a lot of time, so I mostly saw familiar faces: Anolis pogus getting ready to sleep, a dwarf gecko on the prowl and a few insects and spiders:

I did have some very good luck with frogs, though. Normally I don’t touch or capture the animals I find, but in order to identify two very similar whistling frogs, one needs to look at the underside, which is pretty much impossible to do without holding it. As it turns out, at least one frog I saw was Eleutherodactylus martinicensis, with telltale red on the rear legs. I also discovered that Cuban tree frogs can inflate their body like a balloon when threatened. It’s actually quite amusing, and makes them relatively transparent. This species is a relatively recent invasive that tends to be very successful and disruptive when colonizing new islands.

Yesterday I spent a few hours in the Philipsburg area searching for the Cuban brown anole (Anolis sagrei), which has been seen there. Although I didn’t find it, I did spend a lot of time photographing lizards. The photos below showcase the variations in color and pattern of one of our two native anoles, Anolis gingivinus. The variability in this species is perhaps less striking than that of our other native species Anolis pogus, but is remarkable in its own right. The different looks these lizards achieve are related to maturity and gender, camouflage, control of their body temperature and communication with other lizards.

While these variations are beneficial to the lizards, they can pose a challenge to those who study them. This was particularly true for the first couple centuries of study when most scientists were almost exclusively using dead specimens for their research. Even as late as the 1960s, much research was missing crucial information about both the appearance and behavior of many species. Even today, I would wager there is much to be learned, especially about species in the Lesser Antilles.

Agriculture in St. Martin is a complicated issue for me. As a naturalist, it can be saddening and worrisome to see landscapes disturbed by agriculture. On the other hand, there are benefits, like fresh local food and important cultural traditions, best exemplified by events like the Arrowroot Jollification.

From the colonial era until relatively recently, agriculture was more widespread on the island and seems to have diminished significantly with the rise of tourism as the primary industry. As you can see from old photos, many areas that are scrub and forest were cleared in the past. Any walk into the hills will also confirm this, with old stone walls hidden in what is now dense vegetation. Even with larger areas under cultivation and a much smaller population, my understanding is that food has always been imported to the island because it is relatively dry and unsuitable for many crops.

Today, with much larger areas developed for homes and tourism, and the lack of available water in many places, the areas suitable for cultivation remain relatively small. They also seem to coincide with areas that are the best for tropical forests. In the photos below from the area behind Agrement and Concordia, one can see cultivated areas that are encroaching on secondary forest, where trees are cleared and burned to create charcoal. Beyond the preservation of wild habitat, deforestation also has the potential to cause big problems for people as well, as can be seen clearly in places like Haiti.

To me this raises a number of questions: How can we implement sustainable agriculture on St. Martin? What is the appropriate balance between crops and forests? How can we tell when/where the benefits of agriculture outweigh the benefits of an undisturbed landscape? If we do determine the balance, how can that be turned into enforceable policy? Obviously, I don’t know the answers, but I think the questions are worthy of attention.

A couple days ago I had the chance to check out the Puerto Rican crested anole (Anolis cristatellus) population at Port de Plaisance for a few minutes. The site of the first colony I located was a stand of ficus trees on one side of a wooden fence and the scrub on the other side at the edge of a lot that was being cleared. Depending on the overall distribution of the colony, it might be interesting to see how this impacts the viability of what seems to be a relatively restricted area of colonization. Ideally, the colony could collapse. The next step is to survey a broader area to determine the extent of the invasion.

I have to admit, even though the island is small, I don’t get to the Dutch side as much as I should. One of the areas that definitely deserves more exploration is Pointe Blanche. I think of Pointe Blanche as the whole southeast corner of the island, which may be overly broad, but it does include some nice, relatively-undeveloped areas.

I know of a few ways to access the area: via the Dutch Hope Estate, via the road heading up from the Vineyard building, and via the road into the industrial area across from the cruise ship dock. The first set of photos here is from a loop up the Vineyard Building road, up the dirt road to the hilltop farm, down a trail to Hope Estate and back along the roadside canal. It was a bit surprising to see so many birds on the roadside canal, because it is so busy, dirty and often there is just a bare minimum of natural vegetation beside it.

The second set of photos here is mostly taken from the dirt road that runs along the ridge between the prison and the communication towers above Philipsburg. The views from the towers are probably amongst the most expansive on the island. Of course, the views also include a few of the less savory scenes, like erosion on the hill below Fort William and the dump on Salt Pond Island.

I’ve seen it referred to as either Ravine St. Louis or Rambaud Gut, but whatever you call it, the ravine running between Pic Paradis and La Savane is a terrific place to explore. If you’re driving past it on the main road, it’s the dip between Pic Paradis and the last hill that you crest before the downhill into Grand Case, and you may have noticed loads of banana trees in that little valley.

The ravine extends in both directions from the road. Downhill it heads to Étang Guichard and Friar’s Bay, while uphill it heads towards the top of Pic Paradis. On my last two visits, I’ve explored the uphill section. From the main road, access to the ravine starts at a well, then continues through a number of small farms. After that, you can continue to follow a small stream to its source, which also features a well. Above that area, there is a dry ravine that is easy to follow until the forest gives way to scrub. At this point, the ravine continues, but the lack of a canopy means lots of undergrowth to tackle.

In the first set of photos from the area you can see a variety of forest dwellers as well as a look at the huge buttress roots of a large tree near the source of the stream.

The second set of photos includes a lot of whistling frogs. The literature asserts that there are two similar species on St. Martin, Eleutherodactylus johnstonei and E. martinicensis. Of course, the descriptions of the two species are almost identical, so it looks like someone will need to get to know these frogs a little better. For the record, at the moment I think these are E. johnstonei.