Sunday, October 18, 2026

Land of the Takers of the Wrong Turn: The Nene of Hawai'i

For the first-time traveler to Hawai'i, a word about the birds. There are two groups of birds, the species native to the Hawaiian Islands, and the introduced, or invasive species. There are also two groups of birds, the ones you are likely to see during your trip, and the ones you won't. It's unfortunate, but the two lists are pretty much the same. The native birds of the islands are under assault, and most of them never were a good fit for urban environments where island visitors spend most of their time. The natives have been decimated by disease (often transmitted by mosquito, another island invasive), habitat loss, predation by rats, mongoose, and cats, hunting, and competition from non-native birds. The state bird of Hawai'i, the nene (Branta sandvicensis), is the most iconic example of a native that was almost driven to extinction. A close relative, the Giant Hawaiian Goose, once lived on the island, but is now extinct.

Perhaps 500,000 years ago, a pregnant Canada Goose, or a small flock of geese took a wrong turn. A really wrong turn. Somehow, flying along the coast of North America, the leader maybe decided to take a short cut, and it went poorly. Soon the shoreline was lost to view, and for days, not a single bit of land could be seen. I can imagine the flock becoming smaller and smaller as the weaker members fell behind and were lost.  After days of nothing but ocean, an island came into view. The tired geese landed and began looking for food. None of the plants were particularly familiar, but some proved edible and a few of the geese survived. For all we know, some of them rested up and left for further journeys, but a few stayed around. They took up residence on the volcanic island in the tropics of the Pacific Ocean, a vastly different environment than their summer home in the Canadian Arctic. The isolated volcanic edifices are today called the Hawaiian Islands.
Every Hawaiian duck or goose here is now extinct, except for the Nene, on the right. The Nene almost went extinct in modern times. Source: http://www.cavereserve.org/resources/documents/slideshow.pdf


During the millennia that followed, different flocks of geese took up residence in different ecological niches, such as lava flows, grassy slopes, and woodlands. Isolated groups began to diverge, and before long at least three species developed on the islands. One of them, the Giant Hawaiian Goose (species name not yet established), was big, almost four feet long. A lack of predators on the island made flight an energy-intensive but unneeded luxury, so the wings became smaller as the bird evolved to larger size. The goose was flightless. This worked fine for a long time, but humans ultimately arrived on the islands, and probably exterminated them, either by hunting, or by introduction of egg-eating rats, or by habitat destruction.

The second species was the nene-nui (Branta hylobadistes). It was also a big bird, but had larger wings so that it was still capable of weak flight. Like the Giant Hawaiian Goose, it became extinct soon after the arrival of humans on the islands. It has been characterized as a bird in evolutionary transition, in the midst of losing the ability to fly, but it went extinct first. Possibly because it couldn't fly well.
I didn't mean that as a flippant remark. Evolution is a process that has provided the incredible diversity on our planet, and isolated islands have provided the crucible in which much of the planet's diversity has arisen. But birds and other animals that have adapted to very specific situations are vulnerable when those situations are changed. The two extinct Hawaiian geese species were secure on the Hawaiian Islands, but the arrival of humans changed their environment too much and too fast. They were certainly easier to capture than a bird that could escape by flying.

The flying goose, the one that survived was the nene (Branta sandvicensis). The nene's wings were smaller than its Canadian ancestors, because it didn't need to migrate thousands of miles during the change of seasons. But it retained enough flying ability to escape from the island's human invaders. It differed from the Canada Goose in several other respects, including longer legs, reduced webbing between its toes, and a more erect posture. It is adapted to living on lava flows and grasslands, and was less dependent on wetlands than other geese.

It survived, but no longer thrived. Rats ate their eggs and chicks, and later on cats and mongooses were brought to the islands. The species was devastated, dropping from an estimated 25,000 when first European contact was made in 1778 to thirty individuals in 1952. A captive breeding program began, and populations were established on their ancient habitats on Maui and Kauai (where mongooses were never introduced). The wild population is now around 4,300 with another hundred or so in captivity. They are still highly endangered, but their prospects are slowly improving. They have been named the state bird of Hawaii.
I've seen the nenes (pronounced "nay-nay") on Maui at Hosner Grove (the top picture), and on the flank of Kiluaea in Hawaii Volcanoes National Park on the Big Island (the other two pictures). It is awe-inspiring to observe the descendants of a few very unlucky Canada Geese (or lucky?) who made a wrong turn 500,000 years ago and survived a terrifying journey over a very large ocean. I'm glad we're trying to help them survive, instead of driving them to extinction.

Are you interested in learning a bit more about these fascinating creatures? Here is a link for a scholarly article of the research into the vanished species:

 http://www.pnas.org/content/99/3/1399.full

Note: Every so often I am looking for information on one thing or another and I land on my own blog, and think "this was a fun article", and figure it's time to air it again. This is a slightly abridged post from my bird blog in 2015.

Tuesday, October 13, 2026

Whose fault is it? Is it always Fair to Blame the San Andreas?

Before I go much further, I want to stress how serious earthquakes are. It's not really a laughing matter if you live as I do in earthquake country. Millions of people have died from earthquakes in the last century or two, and they are still recovering bodies in Venezuela from the quake last June (6,500 dead so far with tens of thousands still missing).

San Francisco after the 1906 earthquake
Still, it is important to be reminded about the threat that we in California live under. Quakes happen regularly in this state, and sometimes they are catastrophic. It's best to know the threat and to be ready for the day when the BIG ONES hit.

And we all know who to blame when that day comes, right? It's the San Andreas's fault...


Well, let's see if that is true...how well do we know our most famous fault?

Trace of the San Andreas fault on the San Francisco Peninsula. San Andreas Lake is in the foreground.

The fault was discovered and named in 1895 by Andrew Lawson, a professor at UC Berkeley. He was mapping the geology of part of the San Francisco Peninsula, and he named what he thought to be a minor fault after the nearby San Andreas Lake. In 1906 the catastrophic San Francisco earthquake struck and it was immediately apparent that the fault was far more important, as the surface rupture extended more than 200 miles. Subsequent mapping revealed a total length of some 600 miles.

Source: US Geological Survey

The fault is a transform plate boundary, dividing the Pacific and North American plates. The two plates are moving northwest, but the Pacific Plate is moving faster, causing relative motion that is right lateral.

Tectonic plates of the world. Source: US Geological Survey

Right lateral means that the side opposite the fault from the observer has moved to the observer's right, as seen below in a curb offset by lateral motion on the Calaveras fault in Hollister, California. The Calaveras parallels the San Andreas in Central California, and is considered part of the same system of plate motions.

Curb in Hollister, CA offset by right lateral motion on the Calaveras fault.
This seems an odd thing to point out, but the fault is segmented, and that's a good thing. It means that sections of the fault behave independently, with some portions moving via occasional earthquakes, while others move more or less continuously (fault creep, as pictured above). This segmentation means that stress can't build up along the entire length of the fault so that possible earthquakes have an upper limit of magnitude (magnitude 8 instead of 9 or 9.5; the difference is NOT trivial).

The fault began forming about 29 million years ago, and has moved more than 200 miles (during countless earthquakes of 15-20 feet per earthquake). This is best illustrated by the Pinnacles Volcano (in Pinnacles National Park in the Coast Ranges south of Hollister), which formed 22 million years ago, and was split by the fault and shifted 195 miles (the other half is in the Palmdale region).

Lots of people talk about the San Andreas fault, but relatively few people have actually seen it (or didn't recognize it when they did). What does the San Andreas look like? As it turns out, it's not always readily visible. Erosion tends to quickly erase evidence of fault motions, but they are preserved in many places if you know where to look. One of the most famous localities is Wallace Creek at Carrizo Plains National Monument west of Bakersfield. At that spot the San Andreas has offset the creek by 400 feet during perhaps two dozen earthquakes over the last 4,000-5,000 years (below).

Wallace Creek in Carrizo Plains National Monument
If the offset isn't clear from the ground view, check this aerial photograph of the same spot...


The fault is much easier to see where it is creeping continuously. The fault crosses Highway 25 near Pinnacles National Park, and I've documenting the changes there over the last quarter-century. The photo below shows the cracks in the highway as of October 2026.

San Andreas fault crosses Highway 25 north of Pinnacles National Park
The best way to see the fault is from above. I was lucky a few years ago to have a flight take me over Cajon Pass in Southern California where the San Andreas crosses the San Gabriel Mountains at Lone Pine Canyon (below). Lone Pine Canyon is visible briefly from Interstate 15 as you drive north.


People say things about the San Andreas fault. They're always finding fault, so to speak. Are these things true? Let's see...

  • California will fall into the sea
  • The San Andreas Fault causes all California earthquakes
  • California has more earthquakes, and bigger earthquakes than anywhere else
  • We are waiting for the “BIG ONE”
Let's check them out.

California will fall into the sea

Well, that is TRUE in a manner of speaking. To be sure, it doesn't happen Hollywood-style with Los Angeles or San Francisco sinking beneath the waves in a catastrophic quake complete with falling buildings and giant tsunamis. 
Attribution: Unknown. These things show up after many disasters, and it's a nuisance.

But sections of California have been slowly submerged over millions of years, especially in the Borderlands off the coast of Southern California. And Baja California is moving north along the San Andreas, eventually to become an island, heading ultimately to the Aleutian Trench off of Alaska.

So, for this one we must place the blame on the San Andreas...but we can blame Hollywood too, for incredible exaggeration on such matters


The San Andreas Fault causes all California earthquakes:

This one is easily dismissed as untrue. Just take a look at any site showing the locations of earthquake epicenters. The SCEDC site is especially good, Look below to see a week's worth of earthquakes in California and Nevada: it is immediately clear that earthquakes happen all over the region, and that dozens of other fault zones produce earthquakes.

Lots of blame to spread around for the earthquakes in California, not just the San Andreas!
Source: https://scedc.caltech.edu/recent/index.html

California has more earthquakes, and bigger earthquakes than anywhere else:

Let's roll the numbers. I'm not including the magnitude 9 quake of 1700, as it was most likely far too the north of California. Here they are:
  • Number of (near) magnitude 8 quakes: 3 (1857, 1872 and 1906)
  • Number of magnitude 7 quakes: 12-15
  • Number of magnitude 6 quakes: 140+
As to whether these are the biggest in the world, it's not even close. Check out the list of the 10 largest quakes (actually 17 when including honorable mentions) in recorded history from the USGS:
Except for the bit of the Cascadia Subduction Zone in the far north part of the state, California simply doesn't have the conditions that can allow the incredible stresses required to produce magnitude 9 quakes.

We need to have a quick word about the nature of the magnitude scale. It is exponential, not linear. When calculating the energy of earthquakes, an increase of one magnitude represents an increase of about 32x the energy. Put another way, a magnitude 9 quake represents the energy release of 32 magnitude 8 quakes, and over a thousand magnitude 7 quakes (32x32).

Put another way, the Great Tohoku quake of 2011 in Japan at magnitude 9.1 released more energy in one event than all the recorded earthquakes in California's history!

So, no blame for the San Andreas when it hasn't done what it is blamed for!

We are waiting for the “BIG ONE”

The Big One. The one no one wants to think about. The Big Show.

The problem is, and you won't like it, that the statement needs to be refined a bit.

We are waiting for the Big Ones!

As noted previously, the San Andreas fault is segmented, and different parts have different seismic histories. There was the 1906 event in San Francisco, and the 1857 in Southern California. There is a segment in the Coachella Valley that has been lock up and building stresses for some 300 years. And there are other major faults capable of mayhem. The 1872 quake in Lone Pine wasn't on the San Andreas fault, and neither were many other magnitude 7 events.

Seismologists cannot predict individual quakes with any kind of reliability, but they deal quite well with probability. Working groups have produced maps that reflect the possibility of major quakes on any number of California fault lines and have produced probability maps like that above. It is a bit dated (2008), but there have already been 3 or 4 magnitude 6.7 and greater quakes, showing that the long-term predictions are valid. The quakes are going to happen. We just don't know precisely when.

So, no blame on the San Andreas, at least not yet this century! 

This one is subject to change...


This blog post was written to coincide with the Great California Shakeout to be held on Thursday Oct. 15 at 10:15 am. 

I will also be presenting a public lecture as part of Modesto Junior College's MAPS Speaker series on Friday night, October 16 is Sierra Hall, Room 132 on our west campus at 7:30 pm. I'll be speaking about, of all things, the San Andreas fault!






Sunday, October 11, 2026

Why did the Road Cross the San Andreas Fault? 24 Years of Geologic Change (a new Update)

2002
I've been leading geology field studies trips to lots of places in the American West for 38 years and started to take digital pictures in 2001. I sometimes struggle to find new things to photograph when I visit a place for the 38th time, but in some cases, it is not a problem. There are geologic changes that happen on a yearly basis, and with twenty-four years of photos (minus two due to Covid), the changes become obvious. This is a continuing update from a post in 2013, and I'll probably continue updating for the foreseeable future.
2004
Highway 25 in the California Coast Ranges connects the town of Hollister with the access road to Pinnacles National Park (formerly Pinnacles National Monument). Along the way the highway crosses the San Andreas fault in a section where the fault creeps an inch or so each year (36°35'54.27"N, 121°11'40.19"W). Most years we've stopped to have a look at the effect the movement has on the pavement. In 2002 and 2004, the damage was obvious.
2008
By 2008 someone had patched the road, and no fault motion was evident.
2009
Little damage was evident in 2009 either. But by 2010 cracks had begun to appear as the fault stressed the pavement.
2010
The fact that the fault creeps in this region is a good thing. It means that stress is not building along the fault surface but instead is being released gradually. The sections of the fault to the north and south of the creeping section are locked by friction and are building up the ominous stress that will eventually produce quakes with magnitudes in the range of 7.5 to 8.0. The quakes are coming and we need to be as prepared as possible.
2012
By 2012, the road had been completely repaved, and  yet the shearing was already evident.
2013
It became even more pronounced by 2013 and in 2014. Just by chance, the person working as a scale was the same individual as in 2004.
2014

In 2015 the fractures were moderately larger. They'll need to start thinking of road repairs before long.
2015
In 2016 Laura once again provided scale, as she did in 2014 and 2004.
2016
Here in 2017, long-time trip volunteer Mary provides scale. The cracks in the road are just a bit larger, but they didn't look appreciably different than the previous year except for a twist (pun intended).

2017
On Dec. 2, 2018, the break to my eye seems more continuous. It's now been six years since the road was completely repaved.
2018

That year the paint was deformed (twisted) but not split (below).
2017
The offset paint strip reminds me of illustrations of elastic rebound theory, the idea that stress builds up on a fault line over time. In that model, the land on either side of the fault is distorted over time until the frictional resistance is overcome and the rock snaps back to its original shape. That won't be happening with the paint. Last year in 2017 I said "if they don't repair the road (as they often do; see above), it will probably show a clear break by next year." Here's what transpired:

First, a close-up on 2017's center stripe...
2017
And here's how it looked on Sunday, Dec. 2, 2018:
2018
As predicted, the break in the paint is complete...

In 2019 (those last few halcyon days before Covid) long-time volunteer Paul provided scale (he has been assisting MJC with field trips for 25 years!). The crack continues to grow, and I wouldn't have been surprised if it was patched by next year.
 The paint on the center strip is split even more.
November 2019
And then Covid happened and for a few years we were not able to conduct our field studies classes. In 2022 we made a return visit with our students and here is the then-current condition of the highway. It didn't appear that any repairs have been conducted yet. Our host is once again Laura, who was with us back in 2004 and subsequent years!
November 2022
Fault creep is not a constant. I didn't see a whole lot of change over the last three years, although I didn't get as many close-up shots. Here's a closer look with Paul, our other long-time volunteer. What do you see that is different?
November 2022
In 2023 the road continued to become more deformed, and the passing traffic produced an audible thump as it passed over the fault. Our host since 2004, Laura, was not able to join us, so her husband Ryan stood in her place.
Oct. 28, 2023
And then it was 2024, October 12 to be specific. Once again our guide is Laura, who has assisted on these trips since at least 2004. The crack continues with minor changes, and it may be overdue for another repaving job.
October 12, 2024
They may not have repaved the highway, but they did in fact repaint the center line, which obscures about two inches of right lateral offset.
That brings us to 2025 (October 11). Our long-time volunteers weren't on the trip this year, so River and Makayla jumped in to provide scale. 

Oct. 11, 2025
Oct. 22, 2025
The road hasn't been repaved since 2012, and the crack is continuing to slip and fracture. The pavement at the road median has fragmented, and completely repainted which hides the offset a bit.
Oct. 10, 2026
It's now 2026 and the road continues to buckle. Tsing and Jo provide scale this year. I'm mildly surprised that the road maintenance crews haven't fixed this section yet.
These little changes that happen at a rate visible in human lifetimes add up to huge changes when multiplied by thousands or millions of years. The nearby eroded volcano of Pinnacles National Park has been displaced 195 miles (315 kilometers) in the last 20 million years or so by movement along the San Andreas.

How will it look next year?