Gifted PhD student uses small Icelandic fish to study processes of ecology and evolution
By Andrew Vowles
Charles Darwin never got to Iceland. Who knows: Had the HMS Beagle taken him northward instead of to the Galapagos Islands, perhaps he would have based his ideas about natural selection not on fickle finch beaks but on striking variations in a group of relatively inconspicuous fish living in the numerous lakes that dot that northern island country.
Were Darwin to visit the “Galapagos of the North” today, he might also find a kindred spirit in Bjarni Kristjansson, a native Icelander and U of G graduate who has returned to Guelph this semester to begin PhD studies in zoology. On the academic front alone, they'd probably find plenty to talk about. But Darwin might also find this affable 33-year-old to be an ideal guide to both Iceland's natural history and the historical haunts — in more than one sense — around his hometown Hólar and its university, where Kristjansson works and studies.
For the next few years, he'll be dividing his time between fieldwork based at Hólar University College and studies here at Guelph. In November, Kristjansson paid a preliminary visit to campus to receive U of G's largest doctoral award at a graduate awards presentation. He says landing the Brock Doctoral Fellowship was a key to pursuing his PhD. “I've been trying to start it for three or four years.”
Endowed by Bill Brock, a Guelph graduate and longtime friend of the University, and his wife, Anne, the scholarship is worth up to $120,000 over four years and recognizes graduate students who demonstrate the potential to make significant contributions to teaching and research.
Described as being “among the brightest and best in modern ecological research” by his supervisor, Prof. David Noakes, Kristjansson plans to further his studies of rapid adaptive change in Icelandic fish. In a sense, he'll pick up where he left off when he completed his master's degree here in 2001. Referring to his student's academic and extracurricular pursuits before and since, Noakes says: “What he's done is quite remarkable.”
Kristjansson has studied sticklebacks, a family of small fish (related to seahorses) found in northern oceans and lakes and characterized by a row of dorsal spines. They may be small, but they're a curiosity to evolutionary biologists. Not only can they live in fresh or salt water, but they also show an amazing ability to adapt quickly to local conditions in lakes and lagoons — so much so that researchers can see the fish physically alter to fit their surroundings within only one or two generations.
His earlier studies, which have already yielded four published papers, showed that the fish may take only 13 years to display different forms in varying habitats. That doesn't mean he's seeing entirely new species spring fully formed from the bottom mud. But variances among groups are a first step toward speciation, the evolutionary fork in the road beyond which animals can no longer interbreed successfully.
“There's very rapid evolutionary change going on in these animals over dozens of years,” says Noakes. “We can actually see evolution taking place.”
Beyond the differences between one species and another, what captivates him and his student is the process itself, on its own merits and for its potential application in the wider world. Understand more about how changes occur in an ecosystem and you can better protect and conserve that ecosystem, not simply one or two species.
“It's important for us to know what's around us,” says Kristjansson. “What animals do we have in the ecosystem? At some point, we need to protect them. The stickleback is basically a tool. It's not that I want to study sticklebacks — I want to study processes.”
He grew up in the right place to do that. Compared with the millions of years of evolution occurring in a place like the Galapagos Islands, Iceland's lakes and their inhabitants developed only after the last major glaciation. That makes them a kind of natural lab for studying recent and current adaptive changes.
Skuli Skulason, rector of Hólar University College and an M.Sc. and PhD graduate of Guelph's zoology program, says Kristjansson has drawn attention to the diversity of these Icelandic fish and raised larger questions about adaptation in what Skulason calls “this theatre of evolution.”
“The concept of biodiversity is at the heart of the discussion of nature and society,” he says. “It's what nature is all about.”
Skulason was part of an Icelandic delegation that visited Guelph in the fall to inaugurate a new Iceland-Guelph Institute. The institute will further educational and research collaborations between the two countries that he and Noakes began about 20 years ago. Prof. Steven Cronshaw, Psychology, who is co-ordinator of the Iceland-Guelph exchange program, will be the institute's interim director.
Cronshaw says Kristjansson's studies are a perfect example of the partnership fostered between U of G and four Icelandic universities, including Hólar. “It brings the research communities in Canada and Iceland closer together.”
As is the case with many scientists, Kristjansson's studies have their roots in a childhood spent exploring the outdoors. For him, that included fishing creatures out of nearby lakes. Rather than continue down a well-travelled path — “in Iceland, every other biologist is a bird biologist,” he says — he decided to stick with fish, eventually studying biology at the University of Iceland before coming to Guelph.
Back on dry land — and telescoping the time frame down to a more human dimension — he's also interested in human history. For several years, he's led ghost tours around Hólar, even dressing the part to evoke early politics, religion and folklore, including early settlement and gruesome murder legends. “I like to tell stories,” he says.
His haunted tour is included in promotional information for Hólar, whose cathedral built in 1763 attests to the town's standing as a Catholic bishop's seat between 1106 and 1802.
Another outlet for sharing stories and information is the classroom, of course. As a researcher at Hólar, Kristjansson has taught aquaculture and rural tourism courses and has been involved in curriculum development. He runs a field course that sees Guelph and other Ontario students visit Iceland every two years. Since 1999, he has also been director of Hólar's freshwater aquarium, which receives up to 6,000 visitors each year.
Fielding questions from visitors and students and sharing stories with his ghost tour crowds are not far removed from the impulse that drives his graduate studies. Yes, he gets to work outdoors and catch fish, but more than that, he says, “Part of the fun is asking questions and getting answers.”
It was in that spirit — and not without a healthy dose of luck — that he hauled a brand-new creature out of the water while chasing down sticklebacks for his master's degree. As he explains in yet another recent research paper, he discovered the first known freshwater amphipods in Iceland. These particular crustaceans, resembling a flattened crab, are uniquely adapted to living in complete darkness in caves.
Noakes notes that Kristjansson's find went beyond uncovering a new species of critter.
“Not only are they a new species, but they are also a new genus and an entirely new family of amphipods. The description of a new family in a group so well-known and intensively studied as freshwater amphipods is a lifetime achievement.”
Recalling the skeptical reception that met his original find, Kristjansson says things changed after he netted a second specimen.
“Finding the amphipods has changed the way people think about how life came to Iceland,” he says, explaining that evidence suggests these creatures survived glaciation.
Asked to explain his own apparent good fortune in the field, he shrugs. “So many things in life are luck. Skuli says you have to have an open mind. It's a combination of luck and seeing what's there.”
Skulason says Kristjansson embodies many of the qualities of a good scientist, from creativity and teamwork and leadership skills to an ability to pare away complexity, connect ideas and zero in on important problems. Those qualities might have also defined Darwin, whose birthday on Feb. 14 is marked in Guelph by a themed dinner, including such delicacies as finch eggs, held at the home of zoology professor Beren Robinson. Kristjansson transplanted the custom to Iceland after completing his master's here.
Darwin would have approved, says Skulason. “I think they would have gotten along very well.”
