Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project

One of the ways to tell the frog's story is through photos that capture each animal's unique beauty in detail. Here the project's international coordinator, Brian Gratwicke, takes one of his incredible stylized frog shots.

Anyone who’s been out in the woods at night has heard the call of a frog. Sometimes it’s from a female to a nearby male looking for some romance. Sometimes it’s from a whole camp of males hoping to impress a very picky female. After just a few days in the Panamanian rainforest, I have learned to identify the call of the tungara frog (and can hear one out my window right now), the gladiator frog and the red-eyed tree frog. I’m still working on learning the many other big noises that come from these small creatures.

Although the sounds that frogs make are as varied as the animals themselves, there’s one thing frogs can’t do: talk. That’s where I come in.

Frogs have an important story to tell. It’s one about a fungus that is wiping out their kind worldwide and spreading rapidly. It’s one about those among the Earth’s most powerful species who are doing something to save the animals and it’s about those who don’t much care. Through the frogs’ eyes, it’s a story that has evolved along with the planet since the time of the dinosaurs and a story that still has a very uncertain ending.

To bring frogs into captivity, rescue members and volunteers have to transform this shipping container...

...into a rescue pod like this, which already houses a number of frogs and is the pod I've worked in this week.

The frogs at Summit Zoo were able to tell their story to a reporter who came to visit today and my job—the conservation action that I have to offer—is to ensure that reporters help get the word out and that we connect with as many people as possible in Panama, the States and, well, everywhere else. We need people to care and then we need people to take action. We need this to happen very quickly, before chytrid spreads to those places that are home to the rescue priority species we’re still trying to make room for.

Right now we’re already pushing capacity with the newbie Pirre Mountain frogs (Atelopus glyphus) in quarantine, awaiting their turn to re-locate to a rescue pod. But their rescue pod still looks more like what it was originally created to be—a shipping container.

Spreading the word requires the interest of reporters around the world. Ed Smith, a biologist at the National Zoo, helps a film crew work with Panamanian frogs at the Zoo's Amazonia Exhibit.

Outfitting the pods for the frogs takes a tremendous amount of work. Once we receive the shipping industry’s donation, we need to turn it into an ark by setting up life support systems, from air conditioning to filtration to lighting. This week it took me two hours to make just three false bottoms (tank bottoms that prevent the frog from escaping through a filtration pipe) and about an hour to put together about 20 lights. Really we’re just doing this one or two people at a time.

This takes time and this takes money. Thanks to a grant from the Smithsonian Women’s Committee, the rescue project was able to hire someone to coordinate and recruit volunteers—and volunteers are essential to building capacity we need.

So my shameless plug in the midst of a week of being nothing but frog mad: If you want to be among the good guys in the story of the frogs, come to Panama to volunteer. Or donate money. Or help with the campaign we’ll be announcing next week. Or just do whatever you can to help us spread the word, whether on Facebook, Twitter or at your next dinner party. When the words stop, so, too, will the frog calls.

And that’s a silence I don’t think the world can bear.

–Lindsay Renick Mayer, Smithsonian’s National Zoo

This female harlequin frog (Atleopus limosus) is the only female of her kind (the highland variation) that the rescue project has in captivity.

There’s something almost sublime about her and it’s not just the way we angle the light during her photo shoots. She’s of the highland variation of Atelopus limosus, a harlequin frog from Cerro Brewster, and she happens to be the only female of her kind that we’ve got in captivity.

Talk about pressure.

Before I left for Panama, I already knew about her and to be honest, to be perfectly honest, she was the frog at Summit Zoo I was most looking forward to meeting. I’m not sure what I expected. She’s certainly a beauty, but in my opinion, most frogs are. Did I expect her to indicate, in some way, that she understands the significance of her position in the Universe? And if I did, what did I expect that sign to look like? A knowing nod? A regal posture upon a bromeliad? An extra quick flick of the tongue?

What I do know is that every time I’ve had to open her tank over the last few days, to clean it or to take her photo, my heart has started racing. I imagine her escaping, getting hurt or getting lost, and taking with her the possibility that the rescue project will be able to save these dark brown frogs with striking green chevrons. The frog keepers at Summit Zoo must feel the weight of this responsibility every day with every frog in their care. I’m not sure I could handle the gravity of that responsibility with the same level of grace that I’ve seen in them.

The reality, of course, is that one female isn’t going to be enough to build a genetically diverse population of these frogs. She was one of the frogs the project collected last year from Cerro Brewster in Panama’s Chagres National Park, where chytrid had spread rapidly, surprising (and, I think, momentarily devastating) our researchers who had hoped to beat the wave of the disease there. We haven’t stopped the search and we hope to find more females to add to our ark early next year.

The project's first group of tadpoles belongs to the lowland variation of Atelopus limosus.

Hope is really what drives the project. And really, how can it not? The situation may be dire, but there’s a song of hope in the call of one of the project’s male Harlequin frogs of the lowland variation in a tank in the middle of the rescue pod. There’s hope in the adorable adolescent Toad Mountain harlequin frogs (Atelopus certus) in tanks at the front of the pod. There’s hope in the far end of the rescue pod where a large tank holds what may be hundreds of tadpoles—a first for the rescue project. The tadpoles are not the highland variation of the harlequin frog, but the lowland variation, which is less threatened than their more colorful counterparts. Still, each step toward successful breeding marks a victory for us and provides an encouraging boost.

And perhaps that is what accounts for the sole female Harlequin frog’s seemingly ethereal beauty: in part because of her, we still have plenty of hope.

–Lindsay Renick Mayer, Smithsonian’s National Zoo

Before I had even set my luggage down, we were in the Panamanian rainforest looking for frogs.

The night quest—it’s not quite the childhood sport I remember. Sure, your heart is thumping rapidly and you–the frogger–have only moments to figure out the most effective way to wrap your hands around the frog without letting it escape. And when you finally do get your hands around him, you’re spellbound by the feeling of the animal perched there. But I had never actually caught frogs at night as a kid and in the first 24 hours here I’ve found myself on two nighttime frog hunts in the rainforest—one within hours of my plane touching down.

Hello, little frog. I flew 2,071 miles today just to meet you!

During Saturday night’s excursion, I held a red-eyed tree frog in my hand, watched as two tungara frogs in amplexus whipped up a froth of eggs, spotted more than one cane toad and got a good look at the hourglass pattern on the aptly named hourglass frog. Even before I laid eyes on a frog, though, I was swept up in the sounds of a richly diverse world. The chucking of the tungura frogs calling to mates, the chirping of the red-eyed tree frog as air pushes through its larynx. If these are the prima divas (and divos) in the opera of the natural world, then the insects are definitely the orchestra.

Although red-eyed tree frogs are quickly becoming one of my favorite species, this gladiator frog stole my heart on our second night of frogging.

We also ran into a Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute frog researcher in the forest. As I understand it, he was studying what combination of sounds and vibrations elicit a response—vocal and physical—from a potential mate. With his camera, we were able to see the world through infrared, including an unknowing red-eyed tree frog who looked eerily supernatural through this lens.

Last night’s excursion was a little different. Certainly more muddy and wet. My first spotting was of a pair of tungura frogs in amplexus. We collected them for a photo shoot before setting them free this morning. We also tracked down two red-eyed tree frogs by following their sound, standing under the tree that seemed to be making all the noise and peering up into the branches as two pairs of big red eyes peered back down at us. Perhaps my favorite discovery of the night was a gladiator frog the size of the palm of my hand. We didn’t collect this guy, but we did spend some time taking beauty shots of him. And oh how beautiful he was.

What is so markedly different about my hunt for frogs now, as an adult, is the feeling of gratitude and relief that I experience each time I see a frog in the wild. Relief that I am in the presence of a living, presumably healthy animal that doesn’t yet need an ark to survive the wave of chytrid in the way many of the highland species do. And relief that even though as an adult I am cursed with the ability to understand just how grave the situation is for amphibians, I am blessed to be part of a project that aims to ensure a biodiverse world for the next few generations of froggers looking for a good night quest.

-Lindsay Renick Mayer, Smithsonian’s National Zoo

In 2005, as chytrid was sweeping across Panama from El Cope to El Valle, the Houston Zoo rallied other zoos and aquariums, universities and international conservation organizations to begin work on the El Valle Amphibian Conservation Center, also known as EVACC.

One of the Houston Zoo's backyard efforts focuses on the Houston toad, which had all but disappeared since being added to the Endangered Species Act in 1973. (Photo courtesy of the Houston Zoo)

EVACC led the Houston Zoo to partner with the Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project. All rescue project partners work together for a common goal: the survival of the world’s amphibians. But at the same time, we each support conservation efforts in our own backyards. For the Houston Zoo, our ‘backyard’ project involves a small toad with a big story.  

In the late 1940s, Houston, like many metropolitan areas in post WWII America, looked very different from what we see today. Before freeways and tract housing developments, Houston was ringed by dairies and rice fields. It was in that environment sixty years ago that amateur herpetologist John Wottring first suspected that the lengthy trill he was hearing in south Houston fields belonged to an undescribed species of toad.

In just a few years, the species was described in the journal Herpetologica as Bufo houstonensis. The Wottring Toad was a reference to the location of its discovery and its discoverer.

By 1968, James Peters from the Smithsonian Institute National Museum of Natural History, added Bufo houstonensis, to the list of “Rare and Endangered Fish and Wildlife of the United States.” With little fanfare the toad was included in the passing of the Endangered Species Act in 1973, likely one of the first amphibian species in the United States, maybe even the world, to be recognized as declining.

Fast forward 30 years to 2006. The Wottring Toad is now known as the Houston Toad, likely a consequence of the regional uproar that took place in its namesake city, despite the fact the toad had not been seen since its ESA listing and believed only to persist in four habitat patches within its central-eastern Texas counties. Its habitat is fragmented, reduced in both quantity and quality and entering a time of record drought.

This past July, more than 600 Houston toad tadpoles and recent emergents were released in Central Texas and another release of 500 toads is planned in the next six weeks. (Photo courtsey of the Houston Zoo)

Under these dire circumstances, in the spring of 2007, parts of the only known egg strands laid by Houston Toads that year were collected for ex situ conservation by biologists at Texas State University and delivered to the Houston Zoo.

The three partial egg strands were acclimated at bio-secure facilities (a modified bird cage at the Houston Zoo), hatched the next day, and started eating a few days later. After a month, the larvae began metamorphosis, and by the fall of the same year, 1,200 toads had been released back to natal ponds.

Support to restore the Houston Toad to its historic range has grown over the past three years. In mid-2007, the AZA’s Amphibian TAG steering committee, along with regional experts from across the United States, Mexico and the Caribbean convened at the Ft. Worth Zoo for an Amphibian Ark Species Prioritization Workshop. The Houston toad was ranked a priority and a nascent program was mandated.  The Amphibian TAG published the second edition of its Regional Collection Plan in 2008, during the program selection phase Houston toads were elevated to the PMP management category.

The Houston Zoo’s main role in Houston toad recovery is head starting and the development of a captive assurance colony. This past July, more than 600 Houston toad tadpoles and recent emergents were released in Central Texas and another release of 500 toads is planned in the next 6 weeks. 

The Houston Zoo’s involvement in Houston toad recovery is just one supportive player in the whole effort.

The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and Texas Parks and Wildlife Department are the organizations charged with conserving the toad and work with partners such as Texas State University, the Environmental Defense Fund, and the myriad of private landowners who recognize the need for and appreciate having the little toad around. Knowing the situation is grim, everyone is responding with active stewardship, increasing the chance for long-lasting positive changes for the species.

 -Brian Hill, the Houston Zoo

So, just how do you give a frog a bath? And, why would you need to? When the biologists in Panama bring the frogs in from the wild to either the El Valle Amphibian Conservation Center or to Summit Municipal Park, one of the first things the frogs experience is a bath. Push those thoughts of tiny loofahs and soap bars right out of your head! No need for that here—rather, what these amphibians need is itraconazole, an antifungal medication.

Dr. Eric Baitchman of Zoo New England gives one of the rescue project's frogs a bath in antifungal medication to ensure it doesn't spread chytrid to the rest of the captive population. (Photo courtesy of Zoo New England)

All frogs brought in from the wild go through a 10-day treatment protocol even before all of the amphibian chytrid results come back. The risks of missing a positive case and introducing chytrid to the entire captive population are too great to wait for results before beginning treatment. For 10 minutes each day, the frogs are bathed in the antifungal medication. Animals that are actively showing signs of illness also receive intensive supportive care to help them survive the course of treatment. The amphibian chytrid attacks the skin cells of amphibians, which can be quickly lethal for an animal that relies on its skin for the majority of respiratory function, hydration and electrolyte balance. Veterinary care for afflicted animals includes continuous fluid therapy to maintain hydration and replace electrolytes, as well as antibiotic treatment to protect against other infections that may take hold after the loss of the skin’s protective barrier.

Ten days after the bath cycle, the frogs are again tested for chytrid. If they test negative, they are cleared to go into the collection at EVACC and Summit Municipal Park after their mandatory 30-day quarantine period ends.

Chytrid is not the only health concern for the captive population. Lungworms, which commonly affect wild and captive frogs, are also a big concern and one that the veterinarians and staff caring for the captive collection at EVACC and Summit are working hard to treat. While frogs can normally live with lungworms in the wild, extra care is taken with captive frogs because of the potential longevity of the parasite’s lifecycle. While lungworms do not have any relation to the chytrid fungus, they can still make the frogs quite ill, which is why it is important to treat them.

Lungworms (larvae shown here) aren't related to the chytrid fungus, but they can still make the frogs sick. The frogs are treated and their tanks cleaned thoroughly. (Photo by Eric Baitchman, Zoo New England)

As one would expect, lungworms live in the frog’s lungs. Because the larvae are passed through the feces, it is important to regularly clean the frogs’ tanks so the animals do not get re-infected. All of the tanks are designed so they can be washed thoroughly and substrate in the tanks is routinely removed.

The parasite is also another physiological stress on the animal, which the veterinarians and staff strive to minimize as much as possible. While in quarantine, each frog is treated for lungworms through an oral medication that is administered once and then followed up two weeks later.

While frogs can typically test negative for lungworms, this does not mean they are not infected— it could just mean that they are not passing larvae. If treated and monitored, the veterinarians and staff are able to keep this parasite under control. It’s yet another challenge, but one that can be managed through diligent and attentive care.

 –Brooke Wardrop, Zoo New England

Defenders of Wildlife's Mark Cheater holds a Toad Mountain harlequin frog project researchers collected on a recent expedition to the Darien. Cheater's story on the Cerro Sapo expedition is scheduled to run in the winter issue of Defenders magazine. (Photo courtesy of Mark Cheater, Defenders of Wildlife)

The toughest work week of my life. That’s how I described my Panama trip to colleagues at Defenders of Wildlife, after returning in late June from a week in the field with scientists from the amphibian rescue project. I was documenting their work for an upcoming story in Defenders magazine.

 By the time I left for Panama in late June, I had lost several pounds and could comfortably carry a full backpack for an afternoon in the mountains near my home in Washington, D.C. Plus, this wasn’t my first such trip—on previous assignments I had accompanied field biologists as they tracked wolves in Idaho, wild cats in northern Mexico, and rare salamanders in the Appalachians.  How hard could this trip be?

Harder than I imagined.

The first day in the field began with a 3 a.m. wake-up call in Panama City, packing vehicles in the dark and then driving four-and-a half-hours into the Darien region of southern Panama—a place notorious for drug runners, armed rebels and assorted other outlaws. We were reminded of these hazards frequently, as dour, armed soldiers stopped us at checkpoints to look at our passports, examine our equipment and quiz us about our destination and intentions. By mid-morning, we reached a small port town and then transferred our gear into a motorboat for a two-hour trip to Garachine, a coastal village on the northwestern edge of Darien National Park.

A Toad Mountain harlequin frog sits on a mossy boulder alongside the San Antonio River. Project researchers collected nearly 80 healthy Toad Mountain harlequin frogs on their June expedition to the Darien. (Photo courtesy of Mark Cheater, Defenders of Wildlife)

In Garachine, we hired native Embera people as guides and porters, distributed most of our gear between them and their horses, and set out in the steamy early afternoon heat up the San Antonio River to our destination—Cerro Sapo, or Toad Mountain. Within an hour of starting our trek, my hiking boots had turned into muddy weights around my ankles—waterlogged from repeated river crossings and slathered in the brown ooze that passes for a trail in this area. Moving uphill into the jungle became harder, but I soldiered on, sweating through my shirt in the heat and humidity.

After about five hours of hiking, the trail ended—and the best way upriver was to literally go up the river. Hiking in the water was doable when the San Antonio was shallow and gravelly, but such placid stretches were rare as we moved up the mountain—they were interrupted frequently by slick, algae-covered boulders and stones; narrow, watery ledges next to deep pools; or impassable waterfalls, which had to be circumvented by hacking through trees, vines, palms and other vegetation in the surrounding jungle with machetes.

Then it got dark.

 What had been a demanding hike now became dangerous. Even though we all had headlamps or flashlights, they couldn’t illuminate every slippery rock or deep pool or twisted vine. One misstep or slip could mean a badly twisted ankle or bruised limb—or much worse. And the nearest doctor was a six-hour hike back down the river. I gritted my teeth and swallowed my pride, carefully calibrating every step with my hiking pole like an octogenarian with a cane, or, when I didn’t trust my footing, sitting down and sliding over rocks or down muddy embankments on my backside. It couldn’t possibly get worse than this, I reasoned.

One of several poisonous fer de lance snakes encountered by the Cerro Sapo expedition team. The fer de lance is one of the most dangerous snakes in the world. (Photo courtesy of Mark Cheater, Defenders of Wildlife)

That’s when we saw the snake.

We were making one of our frequent bushwhacking forays around an impassable section of the river when one of our porters stopped suddenly and said “culebra!”—Spanish for ‘snake.’  It wasn’t just any snake that he had nearly stepped on. This yellowish-brown creature in the light of our headlamps was a fer de lance, one of the most dangerous snakes in the world. Edgardo Griffith, one of the biologists on the expedition, carefully moved the viper out of our path and into the darkness with his snake hook—a metal pole with a crook at the tip, around which snakes will instinctively wrap themselves. This particular fer de lance was a juvenile, he said, trying to reassure me. “It probably couldn’t kill you—you’d just lose the leg or arm where it bit you.”  I didn’t find much comfort in his words.  

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity in the dark, we sloshed across a gentle section of the river and climbed about 50 feet up a steep, muddy embankment. There we found a slightly less steep, muddy section of jungle that had been cleared of vegetation and roofed with several blue plastic tarps suspended from nearby trees.  This was the Cerro Sapo base camp—our home for the next few days. Someone cooked up a dinner of rice and beans—the first real meal of the day. My stomach was in knots from the stress of the previous eight hours of hiking, but I reasoned that I should eat—and then discovered I could barely open my mouth because I had been clenching my teeth so tightly my jaw muscles had frozen.  I pushed a few spoonfuls into my gullet and collapsed in my tent.  

What had I gotten myself into? Could I survive another four days of this?

Bob Chastain of the Cheyenne Mountain Zoo searches for Toad Mountain harlequin frogs in and around the San Antonio River. (Photo courtesy of Mark Cheater, Defenders of Wildlife)

The short answer is that I did survive. The following days brought many more long difficult hikes upstream, finding and capturing the small, colorful harlequin frogs that were the focus of this rescue expedition. We encountered several more fer de lances along the way, along with whip scorpions and other large spiders, and a wide variety of biting ants, gnats, mosquitoes, midges and flies.  One or more of the biting insects attacked my feet, causing them to swell up to twice their normal size, adding a new challenge to the already difficult task of walking. And there was mud everywhere and on everything—on clothes, skin, equipment, dishes, utensils, tents.

But none of us got seriously injured or sick. And, despite the challenges we encountered in the jungle, we managed to bring back nearly 80 healthy Toad Mountain harlequin frogs to the rescue facility at Summit Zoo in Panama City. The frogs have proved to be free of the chytrid fungus that is devastating amphibians in so many other parts of Panama—and worldwide. Now begins the long task of breeding these animals and keeping them safe in captivity until a cure for the fungal epidemic is developed. If successful, Toad Mountain harlequin frogs may be spared the fate of the dozens of other species that have succumbed to the chytrid epidemic.  

So, yes, it was the toughest week in my career—but also one of the most fascinating and rewarding. 

Mark Cheater is editor of Defenders magazine, the quarterly membership magazine of Defenders of Wildlife. His story on the Cerro Sapo expedition is scheduled to run in the winter issue of the magazine.

The recent discovery of what may be three new frog species by researchers in Panama illustrates the hope and fear encountered daily by the Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project. The discoveries lead to hope that project researchers can save these animals from a deadly fungus killing frogs worldwide and the fear that many species will go extinct before scientists even know they exist.

Two of the three potentially new species is a rain frog from the genus Pristimantis. The species pictured here has a bright red stomach that is uncharacteristic for rain frogs, earning it the nickname “red tomato.” (Credit: Brian Gratwicke, Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project)

“It is disturbing to witness the disappearance of species that some of us only recently described and even more devastating to lose those we know are probably new species,” said Roberto Ibáñez, local director of the project and a scientist at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, one of nine project partners. “Scientists are just starting to investigate the ecological impact of the loss of amphibians, and while we’re aiming to preserve some of these species, we already know it will be impossible to save them all.”

Nearly one-third of all amphibian species globally are at the risk of going extinct. The rescue project aims to save more than 20 species of frogs in Panama, which is one of the world’s last strongholds for amphibian biodiversity. While the global amphibian crisis is the result of habitat loss, climate change and pollution, the deadly amphibian chytrid fungus is likely at least partly responsible for the disappearances of 94 of the 120 frog species that are thought to have gone extinct since 1980. 

Although it can take years to determine that a species is new to science, project researchers have identified some telltale signs indicating that the three species found in eastern Panama are, indeed, new. The first two are rain frogs from the genus Pristimantis. One of these species has a bright red stomach that is uncharacteristic for rain frogs, earning it the nickname “red tomato.” The second species is much larger than any known Pristimantis in the region. The third frog species appears to be a robber frog, genus Craugastor, but unique skin folds on its arms and feet distinguish it from other closely related species. Robber frogs are especially susceptible to chytrid.

One of the three potentially new species appears to be a robber frog, genus Craugastor, shown here. The unique skin folds on its arms and feet distinguish it from other closely related species. Robber frogs are especially susceptible to chytrid. (Credit: Brian Gratwicke, Smithsonian Conservation Biology Institute)

A new study by Andrew Crawford, a STRI research associate, and colleagues reveals that many frog species at a site in western Panama have gone extinct before researchers knew they existed. The project’s three potentially new species are evidence of the same story playing out right now in the mountains of eastern Panama. Researchers have brought a handful of animals of each species back to the Summit Municipal Park in Panama City, Panama, where the project has turned used shipping containers into amphibian rescue pods.

“We are doing our best to salvage what we can, but we are in urgent need of funding to build capacity in Panama to house all of these chytrid refugees,” said Brian Gratwicke, a National Zoo research biologist and the international coordinator for the Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project. “The species is the basic unit of conservation, so these discoveries are rewarding, but that comes with the daunting responsibility of deciding how we look after them. We already have a huge job, and it just gets bigger with every discovery.”

Now project scientists will use collections of frogs from the same region at the Smithsonian’s Natural History Museum and elsewhere to determine if these species are genuinely new or if they have already been discovered (or “described”) elsewhere. The project has also collected tissue sample to use DNA testing to map out the animals’ closest genetic relatives.

“Finding a new species is like discovering a new Pablo Picasso,” said Gratwicke. “Each species is a priceless creation painted with the brushstrokes of natural selection on the canvas of DNA and has something of value to offer. We might not know how they’re valuable to us right now, but if they go extinct, we lose the opportunity to learn what secrets they hold.”

The mission of the Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project is to rescue amphibian species that are in extreme danger of extinction throughout Panama. The project’s efforts and expertise are focused on establishing assurance colonies and developing methodologies to reduce the impact of the amphibian chytrid fungus so that one day captive amphibians may be re-introduced to the wild. Project participants include Africam Safari, Autoridad Nacional del Ambiente, Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, Defenders of Wildlife, El Valle Amphibian Conservation Center, Houston Zoo, Smithsonian’s National Zoological Park, Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute, Summit Municipal Park and Zoo New England. 

# # #

Contact: Lindsay Renick Mayer, Public Affairs Specialist, Smithsonian’s National Zoo (202-633-3081)

From left to right: Laura Reinert (Vanderbilt), Matthew Becker (Virginia Tech), Douglas Woodhams (University of Zurich), Louise Rollins-Smith (Vanderbilt) and Jenifer Walke (Virginia Tech).

In January 2010, Douglas Woodhams (University of Zurich) led a group of researchers to collect frogs and sample skin peptides and skin bacteria in two Panama locations (Torti and El Copé).  Approximately 152 frogs were sampled representing nineteen species.  All frogs were also swabbed and will be tested for the presence of Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis (Bd). The same location in Torti was sampled in 2007, and there was no evidence for the presence of Bd in 2007.  The current study will show whether or not Torti remains Bd-free in 2010.  Analysis of the skin peptide activity against Bd and bacterial species will demonstrate whether skin peptide defenses and microbial skin communities change when amphibian species come into contact with Bd. These studies will help to suggest which species are most vulnerable to Bd infections and should be the focus of conservation efforts.

The Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project announced on December 4th, 2009  that some of the frogs collected in their inaugural expedition in November were already affected by amphibian chytrid fungus (Batrachochytrium dendrobatidis), the disease that has devastated nearly 100 frog species worldwide.

Hyloscirtus colymba undergoing treatment Photo: (c) Matt Evans NZP

The purpose of the Project’s first expedition was to collect living specimens of frogs not yet affected by chytrid fungus in Panama for captive breeding. The rescue mission, led by the Dr. Roberto Ibanez and Edgardo Griffith with support from all of the partners, collected approximately 20 harlequin toads (Atelopus limosus) and 20 treefrogs (Hyloscirtus colymba) under brutal field conditions at the peak of the rainy season from Cerro Brewster in Panama’s Chagres National Park.

These two species will be kept at the Summit Municipal Park in Panama while other rescued species were taken to the previously established El Valle Amphibian Conservation Center (EVACC). The EVACC was established in 2005 ago by the Houston Zoo and many other zoo partners in response to massive amphibian declines were witnessed in Western Panama by researchers and visiting scientists at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute.

When the animals arrived at the rescue facility, several of the frogs were already showing signs of illness and many more developed signs in the following days. Investigation by the project veterinarians identified these animals to be infected with the amphibian chytrid fungus. Samples were further examined by Dr. Roberto Ibanez at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute and the chytrid fungus was confirmed.

Eric Baitchman of Zoo New England treating Atelopus limosus Photo: (c) Matt Evans

“Looking through the microscope and seeing the chytrid organism present on these animals with my own eyes was devastating. I knew this meant we were already behind. This meant that the animals we were treating could very well be the last members of their species unless we act fast to get back out there and save as many more as we can from the wild,” said Dr. Eric Baitchman, Director of Veterinary Services at Zoo New England.

All animals collected began a 10-day treatment protocol to eliminate the fungus, which involves each animal being bathed in a medicated solution for 10 minutes a day. This is a standard protocol for animals that are collected from the wild, due to the risk of the amphibian chytrid pathogen, though this treatment was all the more vital once the organism was actually identified in these animals. Animals that are actively showing signs of illness also received intensive supportive care to help them survive through the course of treatment. The amphibian chytrid  attacks the skin cells of amphibians, which can be quickly lethal for an animal that relies on its skin for the majority of respiratory function, hydration and electrolyte balance. Veterinary care for afflicted animals includes continuous fluid therapy to maintain hydration and replace electrolytes and antibiotic treatment to protect against other infections that may take hold after the loss of the skin’s protective barrier.

The worst affected animals were unfortunately lost, but many animals are improved and are recovering today.

The discovery of amphibian chytrid on the frogs at this site means that time has nearly expired for at least four species of frogs that do not live further east than Cerro Brewster and have been extirpated at all their other known sites.

“If we want to save these species, we will have to ramp up capacity a lot faster than anticipated,” said Brian Gratwicke of the Smithsonian’s National Zoo. “We thought we had some breathing space, but in fact, we may already be too late for some species.”

Responding to this news, the Autoridad Nacional del Ambiente (ANAM), Panama’s National Environmental Authority, announced it would join the Project, pledging $150,000 in support.

“Amphibians are an important part of the cultural and biodiversity heritage of Panama,” said Javier Arias, director of ANAM. “We are pleased to announce our financial and logistical support as full partners in the Panama Amphibian Rescue and Conservation Project to build Panamanian capacity to respond to the global amphibian decline crisis.”

The founding partners of the Project are Cheyenne Mountain Zoo, the Smithsonian’s National Zoo, Houston Zoo, Africam Safari in Mexico, Zoo New England, the Summit Municipal Park in Panama, Defenders of Wildlife and the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute. These research and conservation organizations came together earlier in the year and pledged their support to combat the amphibian crisis in Panama.

The project partners are collectively working to establish an additional amphibian conservation breeding center in Panama for critically endangered species that are in jeopardy of being eradicated by the chytrid fungus. Houston Zoo and other zoo partners created a facility dedicated mainly to preserve endangered species of amphibian from Central Panama known as EVACC, a project lead by the Panamanian biologist Edgardo Griffith in 2005, and the additional capacity provided by this project is needed to focus on Eastern Panama.

The Association of Zoos and Aquariums has challenged all AZA accredited Zoos and Aquariums to take a leadership role during this amphibian crisis. If this effort fails, one-third to one-half of the world’s amphibians could go extinct.