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National Geographic
5 hours ago
- Health
- National Geographic
How a supertiny crustacean makes life work in the Southern Ocean
Reporting in this article is presented by the National Geographic Society in partnership with Rolex under the National Geographic and Rolex Perpetual Planet Ocean Expeditions. One night last December, National Geographic Explorer Kim Bernard was stirring her Earl Grey tea in the galley of a research ship off the coast of Antarctica, preparing for a long night of observing a remotely operated vehicle as it surveyed the seafloor. When the marine ecologist looked up to a monitor showing a live video feed sent by the ROV from a depth of more than 3,000 feet in the Southern Ocean's murky waters, something caught her attention. 'I see this tiny little thing come in on the right-hand side of the screen and dart out,' she said. To the other scientists aboard, it probably looked like organic debris wafting down. But Bernard, 46, has been studying krill for 15 years and knows how the shrimplike crustaceans twirl in the water column and bolt backward when startled. That familiar movement sent her running down two flights of stairs to the ship's control room. Collected specimens from the seafloor. When she arrived, she saw the action on the seafloor being broadcast on a large bank of monitors, and she spotted a handful of individual krill spread out on a hydrothermal vent, a fissure in the ocean crust where hot magma and seawater meet and create a mineral-rich environment that attracts a host of organisms. For Bernard, a professor of biological oceanography at Oregon State University, finding krill here represented a momentous discovery. 'I kind of lost my mind,' she recalled. It was the first time the animal had been observed on a vent. (Why penguin poop makes krill swim for their lives.) Antarctic krill are a keystone species that allows everything else in the Southern Ocean to flourish. If Bernard could learn more about their habitat on the seafloor, her research could inform our understanding of virtually every predator on this hard-to-reach continent, from emperor penguins to blue whales. Any new behavior from such a foundational animal has the potential to affect the entire food chain above it. That night in the control room, aboard the research vessel from Schmidt Ocean Institute, Bernard soon realized all the krill were females carrying eggs. The species usually releases eggs higher in the water column. What makes it worth the risk to travel so far at that stage in reproduction? Were they feeding on the bacteria covering the vent? She asked the operator to use the ROV's special suction arm and gather a few of the crustaceans. This was also a first. Bernard isn't aware of any researchers who have collected specimens at that depth. She has since sent stomach and tissue samples out for analysis. (Scientists discover creatures living beneath the bottom of the deep sea.) Aboard the expedition vessel Bernard had access to tools like video cameras and a remotely operated vehicle to observe krill in the Southern Ocean. Bernard's work on the expedition, which was supported by the National Geographic Society and Rolex Perpetual Planet Expeditions, is part of an ambitious project that's sending nearly two dozen scientists to all five oceans. Their efforts will be the subject of a series of stories in National Geographic as they search for new insights—like, say, the presence of krill in underexplored places. In Antarctica, the species is more than just a vital part of the food chain. Krill are also a carbon sink, eating phytoplankton that have absorbed CO2 and then excreting pellets to the seafloor, where it can take thousands of years for the absorbed carbon to resurface. However, there are new pressures on the species from both humans and climate change. Krill are increasingly harvested as aquaculture feed, and the animals' oil is highly sought after as a dietary supplement. Meanwhile, as sea ice continues to melt, larval krill are losing an important habitat where they can hide from predators, find food, and develop into adults. Bernard hopes her ongoing research and future insights from this discovery will protect this tiny animal that so much life relies on. 'There's a thriving mass of life down there,' she said, 'and all of it depends on krill.' The ROV was able to collect specimens from the seafloor that were later dried for analysis. A version of this story appears in the July 2025 issue of National Geographic magazine.
Sydney Morning Herald
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Grave robber' posed for cameras as he pillaged human remains
The collecting of human remains on an almost industrial scale began in the 19th century and continued long into the 20th. One of the museums most active in collecting human remains was the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, and it was a partner in the expedition to Arnhem Land, along with the National Geographic Society. Frank Setzler was constitutionally incapable of entering an Aboriginal burial ground without thinking about how to rob it. He had form on this front, having collected many remains of Native American people earlier in his career. They were all accessioned into the Smithsonian's physical anthropology collection, one of the largest collections of human bones in the world. It is a sign of his brashness that he allowed a colleague to film his 'grave robbing', as other scientists on the expedition called it. Captured on celluloid, Setzler's actions are repellent yet compelling. Watching it in the 21st century, with the old 16-millimetre footage converted into a digital file, it is easy to stop and start the film, or to magnify it until the image dissolves into a pixelated blur. In making the film, Setzler transformed the fleetingness of the theft into something that would last forever. His handwritten diary is as brutally candid as the film. He frankly acknowledges his duplicity towards the Bininj, as the people of west Arnhem Land call themselves. In an entry some weeks earlier, he recorded the moment he first spotted the bones. At that stage he was still getting his bearings on the hill. When a Bininj guide showed him around, he could hardly believe the abundance of human remains. But he kept his thoughts to himself: 'I paid no attention to these bones as long as the native was with me'. By the time he was ready to take the bones, he knew the site well, having spent some weeks on the plateau excavating for stone tools. Before he took the bones, he liaised with the expedition's American photographer Howell Walker, who agreed to join him on the plateau and shoot both still and moving footage of their acquisition. The film shows how they tried to make the theft a pedagogical performance, presumably to give it scientific credibility. Setzler at one point can be seen lifting and handling a skull. He points out distinctive features and then slots its jaw in place before presenting to the camera its largely toothless grin. The final seconds of the bone stealing show a glimpse of distant scenery. There is a strip of land, the grass yellow-brown. Further away lies the gleaming billabong and beyond it the mission dwellings. The sequence ends when Setzler and the expedition Australian guide Bill Harney (who suddenly appears from nowhere) cross the frame. Manhandling the now-lidded crate, they disappear from the picture. The film is jarringly out of time. It stinks of the body-snatching of the 19th century. Yet we see it through the medium of cinema, that most 20th-century of art forms, and in colour no less. Another disconnect is the lack of soundtrack. We tend to expect that a colour film will have audio, but without the lecture that once accompanied it, there is nothing but deadly silence. No voice. No birdsong. Everything is mute. This sequence is part of the National Geographic Society documentary film Aboriginal Australia. Exhibited only in the US at conferences and in lecture halls, it communicates the story of the 1948 expedition to Americans. Outtakes – often disposed of by production houses – have in this case survived and they tell a most fascinating tale. Not only did Setzler perform the theft for Walker's camera, but he re-performed it in various ways, actively experimenting with his presentation. In the footage intended for public exhibition, he assumes the role of a serious field scientist making a significant discovery. That is very different from a take in which he hams it up as a madcap explorer. In that sequence, he marches into frame and feigns astonishment as he 'discovers' the very bones that he first saw weeks earlier. With cartoonish gesticulations, he signals to the out-of-frame Harney to come and look. Not until Harney is fully in view and enacting his own surprise does Setzler begin to reap his grim harvest. Amidst the jumble of takes and retakes, we see him at one point returning a skull to its crevice so he can perform the theft in a different way. Sixty years later, having recently obtained copies of the film from the National Geographic Society, I sat with the eminent elder Jacob Nayinggul on his veranda in the Banyan Camp at Gunbalanya, watching this material on a laptop. He, too, was silent – silent with rage. As the film reveals, Setzler became brasher and bolder as the expedition neared the end. His personal diary reveals pride in the ruses he went to in avoiding the scrutiny of locals. To provide manpower on his digs for stone tools, which occurred in rock shelters on Injalak (conveniently close to the ossuaries), two teenagers from the mission were assigned to him as archaeological assistants. One was Jimmy Bungaroo, who would become a well-known community leader in Maningrida later in life. The other man was Mickey (whose full name never appears in the expedition records). The pair can be seen in expedition films and photos, sifting soil that throws up great clouds of dust. Setzler supervises, wearing a protective mask. But there were no masks for the two youngsters who were actually performing the hard labour. The heat of those days was crippling. Setzler estimated that inside the tents, the temperature reached 110 degrees Fahrenheit (43.3 degrees Celsius) during the day. Outside, the air was thick and stagnant. The period known to Territorians as 'the build-up' had begun. High temperatures are matched with high humidity, a sure signal that the wet season is on its way. In these conditions, it is little wonder that Setzler's workers required a siesta after a morning spent shifting and inhaling dirt. This provided the opportunity to acquire another cache of bones, as Setzler explained. 'During the lunch period, while the two native boys were asleep, I gathered the two skeletons which had been placed in crevices outside the caves. These were disarticulated ... and only skull and long bones. One had been painted with red ochre. These I carried down to the camp in burlap sacks and later packed in ammunition boxes.' On November 1 it rained. The wet season was nigh. Setzler had discovered more bones that he would have stolen, but he had nothing to pack them in. Even so, he had garnered a rich harvest. He carefully 'painted the ammunition boxes containing skeletal material and numbered them consecutively after my personal box numbers'. He screwed them shut and noted: 'These will go to US without opening in Sydney'. They were ready for transportation to their eventual destination, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. There they would remain for the next 60 years. Martin Thomas is a professor of history at the Australian National University and has been researching the expedition since 2006. The collection of Aboriginal bones taken during this expedition
Sydney Morning Herald
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- Sydney Morning Herald
‘Grave robber' posed for the cameras as he pillaged human remains
The collecting of human remains on an almost industrial scale began in the 19th century and continued long into the 20th. One of the museums most active in collecting human remains was the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, and it was a partner in the expedition to Arnhem Land, along with the National Geographic Society. Frank Setzler was constitutionally incapable of entering an Aboriginal burial ground without thinking about how to rob it. He had form on this front, having collected many remains of Native American people earlier in his career. They were all accessioned into the Smithsonian's physical anthropology collection, one of the largest collections of human bones in the world. It is a sign of his brashness that he allowed a colleague to film his 'grave robbing', as other scientists on the expedition called it. Captured on celluloid, Setzler's actions are repellent yet compelling. Watching it now in the 21st century, with the old 16-millimetre footage converted into a digital file, it is easy to stop and start the film, or to magnify it until the image dissolves into a pixelated blur. In making the film, Setzler transformed the fleetingness of the theft into something that would last forever. His handwritten diary is as brutally candid as the film. He frankly acknowledges his duplicity towards the Bininj, as the people of west Arnhem Land call themselves. In an entry some weeks earlier, he recorded the moment he first spotted the bones. At that stage he was still getting his bearings on the hill. When a Bininj guide showed him around, he could hardly believe the abundance of human remains. But he kept his thoughts to himself: 'I paid no attention to these bones as long as the native was with me'. By the time he was ready to take the bones, he knew the site well, having spent some weeks on the plateau excavating for stone tools. Before he took the bones, he liaised with the expedition's American photographer Howell Walker, who agreed to join him on the plateau and shoot both still and moving footage of their acquisition. The film shows how they tried to make the theft a pedagogical performance, presumably to give it scientific credibility. Setzler at one point can be seen lifting and handling a skull. He points out distinctive features and then slots its jaw in place before presenting to the camera its largely toothless grin. The final seconds of the bone stealing show a glimpse of distant scenery. There is a strip of land, the grass yellow-brown. Further away lies the gleaming billabong and beyond it the mission dwellings. The sequence ends when Setzler and the expedition Australian guide Bill Harney (who suddenly appears from nowhere) cross the frame. Manhandling the now lidded crate, they disappear from the picture. The film is jarringly out of time. It stinks of the body-snatching of the 19th century. Yet we see it through the medium of cinema, that most 20th-century of art forms, and in colour no less. Another disconnect is the lack of soundtrack. We tend to expect that a colour film will have audio, but without the lecture that once accompanied it, there is nothing but deadly silence. No voice. No birdsong. Everything is mute. This sequence is part of the National Geographic Society documentary film Aboriginal Australia. Exhibited only in the US at conferences and in lecture halls, it communicates the story of the 1948 expedition to Americans. Outtakes – often disposed of by production houses – have in this case survived and they tell a most fascinating tale. Not only did Setzler perform the theft for Walker's camera, but he re-performed it in various ways, actively experimenting with his presentation. In the footage intended for public exhibition, he assumes the role of a serious field scientist making a significant discovery. That is very different from a take in which he hams it up as a madcap explorer. In that sequence, he marches into frame and feigns astonishment as he 'discovers' the very bones that he first saw weeks earlier. With cartoonish gesticulations, he signals to the out-of-frame Harney to come and look. Not until Harney is fully in view and enacting his own surprise does Setzler begin to reap his grim harvest. Amidst the jumble of takes and retakes, we see him at one point returning a skull to its crevice so he can perform the theft in a different way. Sixty years later, having recently obtained copies of the film from the National Geographic Society, I sat with the eminent elder Jacob Nayinggul on his veranda in the Banyan Camp at Gunbalanya, watching this material on a laptop. He, too, was silent – silent with rage. As the film reveals, Setzler became brasher and bolder as the expedition neared the end. His personal diary reveals pride in the ruses he went to in avoiding the scrutiny of locals. To provide manpower on his digs for stone tools, which occurred in rock shelters on Injalak (conveniently close to the ossuaries), two teenagers from the mission were assigned to him as archaeological assistants. One was Jimmy Bungaroo, who would become a well-known community leader in Maningrida later in life. The other man was Mickey (whose full name never appears in the expedition records). The pair can be seen in expedition films and photos, sifting soil that throws up great clouds of dust. Setzler supervises, wearing a protective mask. But there were no masks for the two youngsters who were actually performing the hard labour. The heat of those days was crippling. Setzler estimated that inside the tents, the temperature reached 110 degrees Fahrenheit (43.3 degrees Celsius) during the day. Outside, the air was thick and stagnant. The period known to Territorians as 'the build-up' had begun. High temperatures are matched with high humidity, a sure signal that the wet season is on its way. In these conditions, it is little wonder that Setzler's workers required a siesta after a morning spent shifting and inhaling dirt. This provided the opportunity to acquire another cache of bones, as Setzler explained. 'During the lunch period, while the two native boys were asleep, I gathered the two skeletons which had been placed in crevices outside the caves. These were disarticulated ... and only skull and long bones. One had been painted with red ochre. These I carried down to the camp in burlap sacks and later packed in ammunition boxes.' On November 1 it rained. The wet season was nigh. Setzler had discovered more bones that he would have stolen, but he had nothing to pack them in. Even so, he had garnered a rich harvest. He carefully 'painted the ammunition boxes containing skeletal material and numbered them consecutively after my personal box numbers'. He screwed them shut and noted: 'These will go to US without opening in Sydney'. They were ready for transportation to their eventual destination, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. There they would remain for the next 60 years.
The Age
3 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Age
‘Grave robber' posed for the cameras as he pillaged human remains
The collecting of human remains on an almost industrial scale began in the 19th century and continued long into the 20th. One of the museums most active in collecting human remains was the Smithsonian Institution in Washington DC, and it was a partner in the expedition to Arnhem Land, along with the National Geographic Society. Frank Setzler was constitutionally incapable of entering an Aboriginal burial ground without thinking about how to rob it. He had form on this front, having collected many remains of Native American people earlier in his career. They were all accessioned into the Smithsonian's physical anthropology collection, one of the largest collections of human bones in the world. It is a sign of his brashness that he allowed a colleague to film his 'grave robbing', as other scientists on the expedition called it. Captured on celluloid, Setzler's actions are repellent yet compelling. Watching it now in the 21st century, with the old 16-millimetre footage converted into a digital file, it is easy to stop and start the film, or to magnify it until the image dissolves into a pixelated blur. In making the film, Setzler transformed the fleetingness of the theft into something that would last forever. His handwritten diary is as brutally candid as the film. He frankly acknowledges his duplicity towards the Bininj, as the people of west Arnhem Land call themselves. In an entry some weeks earlier, he recorded the moment he first spotted the bones. At that stage he was still getting his bearings on the hill. When a Bininj guide showed him around, he could hardly believe the abundance of human remains. But he kept his thoughts to himself: 'I paid no attention to these bones as long as the native was with me'. By the time he was ready to take the bones, he knew the site well, having spent some weeks on the plateau excavating for stone tools. Before he took the bones, he liaised with the expedition's American photographer Howell Walker, who agreed to join him on the plateau and shoot both still and moving footage of their acquisition. The film shows how they tried to make the theft a pedagogical performance, presumably to give it scientific credibility. Setzler at one point can be seen lifting and handling a skull. He points out distinctive features and then slots its jaw in place before presenting to the camera its largely toothless grin. The final seconds of the bone stealing show a glimpse of distant scenery. There is a strip of land, the grass yellow-brown. Further away lies the gleaming billabong and beyond it the mission dwellings. The sequence ends when Setzler and the expedition Australian guide Bill Harney (who suddenly appears from nowhere) cross the frame. Manhandling the now lidded crate, they disappear from the picture. The film is jarringly out of time. It stinks of the body-snatching of the 19th century. Yet we see it through the medium of cinema, that most 20th-century of art forms, and in colour no less. Another disconnect is the lack of soundtrack. We tend to expect that a colour film will have audio, but without the lecture that once accompanied it, there is nothing but deadly silence. No voice. No birdsong. Everything is mute. This sequence is part of the National Geographic Society documentary film Aboriginal Australia. Exhibited only in the US at conferences and in lecture halls, it communicates the story of the 1948 expedition to Americans. Outtakes – often disposed of by production houses – have in this case survived and they tell a most fascinating tale. Not only did Setzler perform the theft for Walker's camera, but he re-performed it in various ways, actively experimenting with his presentation. In the footage intended for public exhibition, he assumes the role of a serious field scientist making a significant discovery. That is very different from a take in which he hams it up as a madcap explorer. In that sequence, he marches into frame and feigns astonishment as he 'discovers' the very bones that he first saw weeks earlier. With cartoonish gesticulations, he signals to the out-of-frame Harney to come and look. Not until Harney is fully in view and enacting his own surprise does Setzler begin to reap his grim harvest. Amidst the jumble of takes and retakes, we see him at one point returning a skull to its crevice so he can perform the theft in a different way. Sixty years later, having recently obtained copies of the film from the National Geographic Society, I sat with the eminent elder Jacob Nayinggul on his veranda in the Banyan Camp at Gunbalanya, watching this material on a laptop. He, too, was silent – silent with rage. As the film reveals, Setzler became brasher and bolder as the expedition neared the end. His personal diary reveals pride in the ruses he went to in avoiding the scrutiny of locals. To provide manpower on his digs for stone tools, which occurred in rock shelters on Injalak (conveniently close to the ossuaries), two teenagers from the mission were assigned to him as archaeological assistants. One was Jimmy Bungaroo, who would become a well-known community leader in Maningrida later in life. The other man was Mickey (whose full name never appears in the expedition records). The pair can be seen in expedition films and photos, sifting soil that throws up great clouds of dust. Setzler supervises, wearing a protective mask. But there were no masks for the two youngsters who were actually performing the hard labour. The heat of those days was crippling. Setzler estimated that inside the tents, the temperature reached 110 degrees Fahrenheit (43.3 degrees Celsius) during the day. Outside, the air was thick and stagnant. The period known to Territorians as 'the build-up' had begun. High temperatures are matched with high humidity, a sure signal that the wet season is on its way. In these conditions, it is little wonder that Setzler's workers required a siesta after a morning spent shifting and inhaling dirt. This provided the opportunity to acquire another cache of bones, as Setzler explained. 'During the lunch period, while the two native boys were asleep, I gathered the two skeletons which had been placed in crevices outside the caves. These were disarticulated ... and only skull and long bones. One had been painted with red ochre. These I carried down to the camp in burlap sacks and later packed in ammunition boxes.' On November 1 it rained. The wet season was nigh. Setzler had discovered more bones that he would have stolen, but he had nothing to pack them in. Even so, he had garnered a rich harvest. He carefully 'painted the ammunition boxes containing skeletal material and numbered them consecutively after my personal box numbers'. He screwed them shut and noted: 'These will go to US without opening in Sydney'. They were ready for transportation to their eventual destination, the Smithsonian Institution in Washington. There they would remain for the next 60 years.
Associated Press
6 days ago
- Business
- Associated Press
The National Geographic Society and Cengage Group Celebrate Expanded Partnership with the Announcement of a New Interactive Student Experience at the Museum of Exploration
$15 million gift from Cengage Group will fund the National Geographic Learning Launchpad, a new educational experience at the National Geographic Museum of Exploration WASHINGTON, May 29, 2025 /PRNewswire/ -- The National Geographic Society and Cengage Group have expanded their long-term partnership with a $15 million gift in support of the National Geographic Museum of Exploration, opening in 2026. The National Geographic Learning Launchpad, powered by the Cengage Group, is an extraordinary interactive space that will inspire young people to connect with the concept of geographic thinking and to apply what they learn to their own lives. The National Geographic Learning Launchpad will be the first stop for the student groups visiting the Museum of Exploration at National Geographic Base Camp in Washington, D.C., setting the scene for their experience at the museum. The space — which includes an introductory corridor, interactive activity room and immersive projection room — presents geography as a way of thinking, understanding and interacting with the world. Visitors will learn to ask questions and seek knowledge, think critically and creatively to solve the world's most pressing problems and to understand the Explorer Mindset — a series of attributes, shared values and commitments that define what it means to be a National Geographic Explorer. 'Curiosity is at the heart of exploration, and education is how we nurture that spark,' said Jill Tiefenthaler, chief executive officer of the National Geographic Society. 'Thanks to the generosity of our partners at Cengage, we're able to create innovative, hands-on learning experiences like the National Geographic Learning Launchpad — bringing the fieldwork and projects of Explorers straight to students and inspiring the Explorer in everyone.' The dynamic partnership between National Geographic Society and Cengage launched in 2011, when the organizations came together to establish the National Geographic Learning brand and business. This strategic partnership provides Cengage the exclusive rights to develop and deliver National Geographic-branded learning products that engage tens of millions of learners around the world each year. National Geographic Learning products, which support learners and educators in both the English Language Teaching and Secondary education markets worldwide, immerse students in a range of subject areas, including science, social studies, language arts and math, featuring information from the unique viewpoint of Explorers and their multifaceted work. National Geographic Learning content reaches approximately 20 million students each year with Explorer-centered educational content across 109 countries, with over 600 individual Explorers featured in materials. These learning products highlight the Explorer's work in connection to the subject matter in ways that uniquely engage students and provide cross-cultural connections to other subject areas in an authentic, relevant way. In 2024, National Geographic and Cengage extended their National Geographic Learning partnership through 2040 to continue bringing the world to the classroom and the classroom to life with rich content and experiences. 'We are proud that our partnership with the National Geographic Society is expanding further as we explore all the ways we can change the typical classroom experience together and provide a window to the world for students,' said Michael Hansen, chief executive officer of Cengage Group. 'Our mission at Cengage Group is to provide education for employment – empowering learners with the skills and experiences they need to achieve their education and career goals. Our partnership with National Geographic helps us realize this ambition; by leveraging the insights, experiences and imagery of National Geographic Explorers we are able to better develop engaging and impactful educational experiences that prepare students to lead fulfilling lives in the real world. The opportunity to get students out of the classroom and into the world of an Explorer through the National Geographic Learning Launchpad is a remarkable next step for this collaboration.' The National Geographic Museum of Exploration, where the National Geographic Learning Launchpad will be housed, is currently under construction and will open in 2026. To find out more information and updates on Base Camp, visit us here. PRESS KIT About National Geographic Society The National Geographic Society is a global nonprofit organization that uses the power of science, exploration, education and storytelling to illuminate and protect the wonder of our world. Since 1888, National Geographic has pushed the boundaries of exploration, investing in bold people and transformative ideas, providing more than 15,000 grants for work across all seven continents, reaching 3 million students each year through education offerings, and engaging audiences around the globe through signature experiences, stories and content. To learn more, visit or follow us on Instagram and Facebook. About Cengage Group Cengage Group, a global education technology company serving millions of learners, provides affordable, quality digital products and services that equip students with the skills and competencies needed to be job ready. For more than 100 years, we have enabled the power and joy of learning with trusted, engaging content, and now, integrated digital platforms. We serve the higher education, workforce skills, secondary education, English language teaching and research markets worldwide. Through our scalable technology, including MindTap and Cengage Unlimited, we support all learners who seek to improve their lives and achieve their dreams through education. Visit us at or find us on LinkedIn or X. About National Geographic Learning National Geographic Learning (NGL), part of Cengage Group, provides quality learning products for the K-12 and English Language Teaching education markets worldwide. NGL seeks to transform teaching and learning by bringing the world to the classroom and the classroom to life. We provide relevant content to inspire teachers and impact learners, including exclusive access to the insights, experiences and imagery of more than 600 National Geographic Explorers through our close partnership with the National Geographic Society. View original content to download multimedia: SOURCE National Geographic Society
