White-nose Syndrome – a disease that’s killed more than a million bats across the U.S. and Canada since 2006 – still threatens Great Lakes states.
Bats with the disease sport a white fungus on their faces, which can spread to other parts of the body, causing a myriad of problems that lead to death.
Over the last winter, researchers found the syndrome or the fungus thought to be responsible for it in five more states and Canadian provinces, including Ontario. That brings the total to 16, which includes New York, Pennsylvania and Quebec.
Six Great Lakes states have been spared. But its arrival is still possible.
“I’m glad that you don’t have White-nose yet, but I would be concerned,” said Mylea Bayless, a conservation biologist of Bat Conservation International, based in Texas.
Scientists believe that a fungus, conducive to cold-temperature environments, just like the caves and mines bats hibernate in, causes the disease.
“All the available evidence says that the fungus is responsible for the disease. However we haven’t been able to replicate the full disease in the lab,” Bayless said.
Bayless said scientists think the fungus kills bats – like little brown bats and the endangered Indiana bat – by waking them too early or too often during hibernation.
This early arousal depletes their winter fat reserves too quickly, causing bats to starve to death or die of cold-weather exposure when forced to search for food, among other symptoms.
The disease is killing as many as 90 percent of bats in some areas, said Gretchen Meyer, manager and biologist of Neda Mine, a Wisconsin bat hibernation spot – or hibernaculum.
“So this is just wiping bats out,” she said.
Bats play a significant role in the ecosystem as a major night predator that munches on mosquitoes and other insects.
A bat absence could lead to serious ecological effects, like an increase of insects that damage crops. But right now scientists can’t pinpoint many of these ramifications.
“Anytime you take a top predator out of the ecosystem you’re bound to see cascading effects,” Bayless said.
In hopes of managing the disease, researchers have hastened the often-arduous scientific process.
“I think one of the things the scientific community is cognizant of, in this particular situation, is that they can’t be slow,” Bayless said. “They have to share some of the information while it’s preliminary.”
To promote research collaboration, the Pennsylvania Game Commission, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and Bat Conservation International hosted a symposium in May that gathered 66 partners from across the globe to discuss the disease.
“It was very encouraging seeing that many folks attending and becoming actively involved in the stopping the spread of this,” said Richard Geboy, Midwest White-nose Syndrome Coordinator for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service.
The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service will award up to $2 million in grants in early to mid-August for White-nose research.
Geboy hopes these grants will explore largely unknown aspects of the disease and its transmission like bat migration patterns and the susceptibility of different bats.
In May Bat Conservation International requested $5 million dollars from Congress for research.
And in June, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service awarded the Michigan Department of Natural Resources and Environment $82,000 grant to address White-nose.
But monitoring bats and the transmission of this disease isn’t easy.
“Bats are notoriously difficult to study. They’re highly mobile, they’re long-lived, they’re small, they’re nocturnal,” Bayless said.
Hibernating bats like the little brown, big brown and Indiana bats are loyal to one hibernaculum throughout their lives, but summer and mating spots vary each year. This makes it hard to predict which bats will come in contact with each other and increases chances of White-nose transmission.
“So there are lots of opportunities in the kind of seasonal cycle of bat behavior where they can pass the White-nose disease among themselves,” Bayless said.
And the disease is still in its early progression, Geboy said. This makes it possible that the disease will make its way to the natural caves and abandoned mines that are perfect for the Great Lakes region’s sleepy, hibernating bats.
“It seems to be just moving that way,” Geboy said.
Some states like Indiana and Wisconsin aim to avert the disease by closing caves to the public to lessen the chance of fungus transmission which can cling to clothes and equipment.
“Many of the Forest Service national forests have implemented cave closures where necessary or where the habitat exists,” Geboy said.
Neda Mine — an abandoned iron mine in southern Wisconsin — is the largest bat hibernaculum in the Midwest and houses up to 200,000 bats during the winter.
White-nose there could kill a lot of bats.
“Oh, we’re very concerned,” Meyer said.
But there’s not much she or others can do to stave off the disease.
“The mine is already closed to the public. I think the only preventative measures we can do is prevent human access to habitat and hibernacula,” Meyer said.
But closing the mine will probably not be enough.
“I think the bats will probably bring it in themselves,” Meyer said.
And since bats are slow reproducers, having only one pup a year, the chances of a swift recovery are slim.
“They may take decades to recover and the population may never recover in our lifetime,” Bayless said.
For more information and ways that you can help or spot abnormal bat behavior in your community see: www.batcon.org/wns
See related story: Great Lakes bats threatened by mysterious disease