Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous
Wears a precious jewel on his head."
"There was a panic in the parlor
and a howling in the hall,
There was crying in the cow-shed
and shrieking in the stall,
When the Toad came home."
The Wind in the Willows (Grahame)
On a warm July evening in 1992, I was driving out to Sandy Hook to meet a class for an evening field trip of seining and beach combing when I experienced one of those curious events in one's life. Preoccupied with the heat, humidity, worries about finding the time to replace the bald front tires on my car, and concern about how I was going to entertain thirty students if the approaching thunderstorm lingered overhead, I swerved too late to miss a gray rock in the road. An ominous "pop" caused me to stop and check my tires and to my delight it was not what I had feared. However, I was dismayed to discover I'd just waffled a toad that, not understanding that fundamental rule of physics - The Law of Overwhelming Mass - had puffed itself up with air for defense as my car approached it. This is a great tactic against hungry snakes that must swallow their prey whole, but it is not at all effective against automobiles.
I thought this incident ironic because this was one of "our" toads, one that had been reintroduced to Sandy Hook. I might have been more moved by this small tragedy had I not soon observed several other toads in the road ahead. Reasoning that this was probably an acceptable loss to the population (In military jargon that's when the other guy gets killed.), I raced ahead of the storm to meet my class.
Toads are not unusual on barrier beaches, in fact, the Fowler's toad I had inadvertently merged with the macadam is the amphibian you are most likely to discover in your daytime ramblings along the coast. However, it was always a bit surprising to me that until ten years ago they were not present on Sandy Hook.
The Fowler's toad is named after an early Massachusetts naturalist and is oftentimes described as being "extremely abundant" in sandy locations along the Atlantic Coastal Plain from Massachusetts to Texas. Adults tend to be nocturnal but congregate under outside lighting to catch insects; this fatal attraction to the streetlights around Fort Hancock is what determined the fate of the toad I encountered. Juvenals are more likely to be seen during the day, but their gray to reddish coloration tends to work so well as camouflage that, like other sand dwellers, they are essentially invisible until they move.
Even if you can't find one during the day, a reliable indication of the toad's presence is its voice at night. The toad's breeding season extends late into summer; it tips itself off with its unmusical, nasal "w-a-a-h" near ponds and vernal pools of shallow water, on barrier beaches and sandy inland locations. Fowler's toads are so ubiquitous in some coastal areas that they are even reported to lay their eggs in brackish water, although there's no reason to think any of their tadpoles survive the osmotic onslaught of even a small dose of salt water.
Although secretive, like most of its tribe, Fowler's toads
can appear suddenly and in large numbers after rain showers stimulate
them to leave the shelter of moist sand and piles of driftwood.
The toad's mysterious appearance with rain has added to a wealth
of English folk beliefs about its powers, and these harmless creatures
were thought to bring both good and bad luck during colonial times.
Warts notwithstanding, toads were said to poison both cattle and
people. But as Shakespeare wrote, they were also capable of detecting
poison for the prudent carrier of the toadstone, a jewel believed
to form inside the
toad's head ...
"Sweet are the uses of adversity
Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous
Wears a precious jewel on his head."
... Killing one would surely bring a shower - good luck for a farmer, I suppose; bad luck for me and my class. And, of course, bad luck for the toad who was patiently waiting under the streetlight for a meal.
Curiously, charms made from the blood and bones of a toad were once thought to give the bearer power over horses (and pigs), and when prepared ceremoniously, instilled the strength to meet and fight with the devil at night in the stable, as Grahame alludes to in Toad's last little song in The Wind in the Willows. (See beginning)
Well, if the toad is so powerful and ubiquitous, why was it absent from Sandy Hook until the mid-1980's?
A casual inquiry by the National Park Service's resource biologist Bob Cook, about the presence or absence of reptiles and amphibians at Sandy Hook rekindled our discussions on the possibility of introducing the little toad here. It seemed logical that toads should be here since they are fairly common in sandy locations on the mainland and several of the employees here had discussed a transplant, but we didn't want to risk introducing something that shouldn't be here in the first place. Especially in these days of diminishing habitats, introduced plants and animals can become serious pests if there is a niche available to them and no natural control over their population growth.
We did a little forensic ecology
and recalled a passage from a locally reprinted article entitled
Sandy Hook - in 1879 by George Hougton. Midway through
his discussion of the squatters on Sandy Hook, their unrestrained
hogs, their hen-coops and cow-sheds; he mentions with regret,
that the place is an insect paradise for mosquitoes and is inhabited
by "sand adders ... quite partial to the Hook ... that during
the past few years they have increased in proportion to the decrease
in hogs, whose fondness for them proves more fatal than man's
hatred. Black snakes are also occasionally seen, much to the terror
of the cattle."
Now, you are probably saying to yourself "I thought this was about toads," and indeed it is. Ask any snake aficionado and you'll learn that hognose snakes - Heterodon platyrhinos (or sand adders, puffing adders, and hissing sand snakes as they have been called) are especially fond of toads, perhaps more dependent on them than any other prey. In fact, if you correctly interpret the network of tracks that are present in the sand each morning, the presence of one seems to insure the other is a resident too. This historical account of the hognose snake (which was also absent from Sandy Hook) is strong circumstantial evidence that the toad was once in residence, so it was decided to attempt a reintroduction.
Reintroducing the toad should make Sandy Hook more habitable for the hognose snake and the "black snake" (Probably the northern racer - Coluber constrictor - an alert and irascible six-foot serpent that, while not poisonous, bites severely when cornered.) Sandy Hook has been isolated from the mainland many times in its geological past, interfering with its colonization by land creatures other than birds and insects. Today, like most parks, it is becoming a biological island surrounded by development that further inhibits the natural movement of wildlife. As the rest of the coastal area is developed, the peninsula is rapidly becoming a final outpost for wildlife, justifying the reintroduction of beleaguered species and preservation of remaining habitat.
What happened to the toads and snakes in the first place? We may never be sure, but animals disappear from an area for several reasons. They may be forced out by other creatures that compete for resources - one obvious concern when introducing new or non-native species anywhere. That seems unlikely for the toad, hognose, and black snake because there don't seem to be any replacements here today filling their niches. Or they might be hunted to extinction by predators or humans, which is a possibility for a conspicuous or unappreciated creature like a snake living in an already stressed environment like the barrier beach. Hougton's mention of unrestrained hogs and people may be significant. A Florida "cracker" I know, kills every snake he sees and calls them all "rattlers." He used to tell me, "A pig will eat anything that doesn't eat it first," and wild hogs really tear up the landscape scavenging anything for a meal. There can also be problems for wildlife when habitat disappears or is altered; this is the biggest cause of decline in wildlife everywhere in the world today, and a very likely culprit at Sandy Hook.
I think habitat alteration and disturbance by human activities
is our best guess as to what wiped out these creatures. There
is a long history of potentially disruptive activities by the
U.S. Army during its tenure here, and they have been implicated
in all sorts of environmental mischief. There was a major proving
ground here for guns until the end of WW I; also, the testing
of ordnance, building, filling of wetlands, bulldozing of large
tracks for bivouac areas for the soldiers, rumors of disposal
of toxic materials from explosives in ponds and pits, etc., right
up until the base became a park in the 1970's. But my pet theory
is that the prime suspect is mosquito control.
As an army brat in the 1950's, I can remember getting yelled at
for running behind the "fog trucks" that cruised Ft.
Hancock, undoubtedly spraying DDT to control the mosquitoes. I
also recall seeing planes spraying the woods on at least one occasion
and suspect the Army was knowledgeable enough about the mosquitoes'
life cycle that it was also draining, spraying or oiling the fresh
water wetlands to kill their larvae. Such activities could have
had a serious impact on much of the Hook's wildlife, especially
the water dependent toads. Snakes like the hognose, already weakened
by human and porcine persecution, might disappear with their food
source.
Moving animals around is not a casual endeavor, even if the candidate is a harmless toad and the intentions are good. Collecting permits must be secured from the state, justifications written, and most importantly, possible impacts must be reviewed. It was decided that the Fowler's toad was probably a past resident that had been extirpated - perhaps by human activities - and its reintroduction should not be harmful, conceivably even beneficial, by making Sandy Hook less of an "insect paradise". For example, an agricultural publication of the 1950's touts the toad for having a "prodigious appetite" for crop-destroying insects, and being worth $20 apiece to lucky farmers who share land with them. Certainly there is room for such a creature at Sandy Hook.
Well, where does one recruit colonists? It is only logical to use local animals as a source to restore a population, since they are already adapted to the rigors of a particular place and climate. Volunteers and park staff helped recruit specimens of all ages from two coastal locations with viable populations - Highlands and Island Beach State Park. Murray's Pond is located in an odd little mainland dune field in Highlands that is the last undeveloped parcel along the waterfront (and perpetually, it seems, on the verge of being developed.) Island Beach is much more secure, since it is the premiere barrier beach park for the State of New Jersey.
For three summers, dozens of adult and immature toads, along with scores of tadpoles, were collected at both sites and released at the freshwater ponds at the center of Sandy Hook. How do you know you're collecting the right toads, since there are several species in our area? Fowler's toads are identified by several physical features, habitat, and the time of year they appear and begin their distinctive breeding chorus. The frogs and toads in our region follow a consistent order of appearance and singing that is correlated with the rising temperature in spring. Heralded by spring peepers in March (another amphibian that would probably thrive here), the Fowler's toad is preceded in order by: leopard frogs, wood frogs, American toads, pickerel frogs and green frogs. Since Fowler's toads breed later than the others, their small black tadpoles can be more easily identified.
Toads will spawn in a variety of places, and elsewhere I've found temporary pools that are quite literally swarming with tadpoles that are racing the approaching dry weather to develop legs and escape the confines of their nursery before it dries up. Too often the hot summer sun prevails and hundreds will shrivel up in a day, leaving behind a depression with an inconspicuous layer of little mummies where hours before a blissful, writhing mass of creatures thrived.
At Sandy Hook, tadpoles and adults were released near a chain of shallow, freshwater ponds that are at the center of the spit and dominated (before the toads arrived) by turtles and insects. The toads have obviously thrived and are now turning up all over, including our ground floor classroom, where they create quite a stir. Hot summer days when the park is overpacked with people notwithstanding, the toads may soon be the most abundant land vertebrate here.
I've done a rough survey of the toad population by counting toads per mile as I avoid them on my drive home from work at night and as I walk around Sandy Hook during the day. There are about 5 adult and juvenal toads per acre hopping around the 1037 acres of dunes, fields and thickets that are suitable habitat; something like 5000+ toads; up from a population of zero a few years ago. While I'm not ready to declare them a plague of Biblical proportions, they are now "extremely abundant" and there is no end in sight. Not bad results for moving around a few buckets full of toads and tadpoles a few years back.
For the time being, car drivers may unwittingly be the toads' chief enemy at Sandy Hook. Except when large numbers of hawks migrate through in the spring, there is little toad predation here, but this situation will probably change. Currently the most abundant snake species at Sandy Hook is the brown snake, a foot long worm-and-spider gourmand that naturalist Paul Howes describes as "the most docile snake in the world" - certainly neither of the "serpents" that Houghton describes in Sandy Hook in 1879. But it seems logical that now that the toad has come home, it is time to reestablish its old nemesis the hognose snake (which the National Park System is now attempting*) and perhaps even the black snake, to end the halcyon days for this gentle amphibian by restoring a little balance to the natural world at the shore. Indeed, if I am correctly interpreting the network of tracks in the sand that we've seen lately, the restorations seem to be working.
"The animals sat in the Ark and cried, the tears in torrents flowed
Who was it said, 'there's land ahead?'
Encouraging Mr. Toad!"
Some things to think about:
