Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Biggest sauropod ever (part…. II)

In the previous post we looked at the obscure and poorly known mega-sauropod Amphicoelias fragillimus, described in 1878 on the basis of an incomplete but enormous dorsal vertebra and the distal end of a femur. Its details show that it was a diplodocoid, and thus related to more familiar taxa like Diplodocus and Apatosaurus. Despite its absurd size – suggesting (by comparison with other diplodocoids) a total length of 60 m – this material somehow vanished prior to 1921. Due in part to these facts (and also, perhaps, to its poorly publicised and unfamiliar-sounding – or ‘crappy’ – name), Amphicoelias fragillimus was to be all but forgotten in the decades that followed…

During the 1990s, little-known articles by John McIntosh (revered older statesman of sauropod research) and Greg Paul looked briefly at A. fragillimus. McIntosh (1998) went through Cope’s inventories of the Garden Park discoveries (these records had been missed by Henry Osborn and Charles Mook in their 1921 review of Copes sauropod collection) and found that, perhaps because the contents of several crates have no surviving records, the shipment of A. fragillimus to New York wasn’t recorded. Paul (1994a, b) estimated the size of A. fragillimus based on the dimensions provided by Cope, suggesting (again, based on comparison with more completely known diplodocoids) a total length of 40-60 m, a weight of 100-150 tons, and that it would have been 9 m tall at the hips, and with thighs 3.8 m long.

The news is that, at long last, a proper reappraisal of this mysterious giant has finally appeared: it’s a new paper by Ken Carpenter of the Denver Museum of Nature and Science, and while, sadly, it doesn’t report the discovery of a new, articulated A. fragillimus specimen, it does cover pretty much everything we know about this dinosaur (Carpenter 2006). By the way, Carpenter and colleagues have tried looking for additional remains of A. fragillimus, thus far without success. Actually, I have to note here the rumour that new A. fragillimus material has been discovered, and that it will be discussed at the 2008 Society of Vertebrate Paleontology meeting. We shall see [adjacent image is Copes original 1878 figure of the A. fragillimus vertebra. I ripped it off from Matt Celeskeys post about A. fragillimus from August of last year (go here). Sorry Matt].

Was A. fragillimus a hoax?

Unsurprisingly, quite a few people have been sceptical about the existence of this all-too-conveniently lost mega-sauropod. Can we be sure that it ever really existed, or could it be that Cope was pulling a fast one in order to beat his rival, Othniel Charles Marsh, hands-down in an effort to describe the biggest sauropod? As attractive as this scenario might appear, hoaxing is highly, highly unlikely. Consider the following:-

-- Cope was very specific about all the discovery details of A. fragillimus. According to his field notes, it was collected in late 1877 by Oramel Lucas (described by Cope as his ‘indefatigable friend’) at Garden Park, specifically from quarry III, a site southwest of the hill known today as Cope’s Nipple (Carpenter 2006). The rocks here yielded several other particularly large Morrison Formation dinosaurs (such as Camarasaurus supremus).

-- Furthermore, the shipment records discovered by McIntosh show that Oramel Lucas and his brother Ira knew of A. fragillimus and labelled some remains with this name (McIntosh 1998, p. 487 and p. 498). If it was a hoax, then the Lucas brothers must have been in on it too, which now makes it a conspiracy.

-- The conspiracy would have to extend even further, as an American Museum of Natural History catalogue number, AMNH 5777, was reserved for the A. fragillimus material.

-- The rivalry that existed between Cope and Marsh is also relevant here (Marsh is pictured at left). As is well known, Marsh enjoyed making a very public fool of Cope when he made a technical error (Storrs 1994, Davidson 2002), and when he disagreed with Cope, or thought him wrong, Marsh was tediously pedantic in his criticisms (see Marsh’s 1873 papers on dinoceratans, for example). Marsh never criticised, nor even questioned, the reality of A. fragillimus. Carpenter (2006) notes that ‘Marsh is known to have employed spies to keep tabs on what Cope was collecting, and it is quite possible that he had independent confirmation for the immense size of A. fragillimus’ (p. 134).

-- Cope’s drawing of A. fragillimus is accurate-looking and elaborate, and his description refers to small detailed features, all of which conform in details with what we know of diplodocoid vertebrae (part of the description is reproduced at left: from here). He would have to have made all of this stuff up if the specimen was a hoax: it’s not as if the only record of A. fragillimus is a scribbled fragment in a diary, saying ‘On Tuesday I saw the biggest vertebra ever… it was thiiiiis big…’. Rather, the material is documented, in detail, in a proper technical paper. To hoax an entire paper of this sort would be severe science-crime, and there is no indication that Cope was unscrupulous or dastardly, or prepared to stoop this low.

-- It is noteworthy that workers well known for their methodical and conservative approach to sauropod studies (notably John McIntosh) have accepted Cope at his word. Osborn, who succeeded Cope as vertebrate palaeontologist for the US Geological Survey and is well known for speaking his mind when he had a problem with something, also never voiced doubts about A. fragillimus.

All of this is circumstantial, for sure, but I agree with Carpenter (and others) that the idea of Cope perpetrating a hoax of this magnitude is pretty much unthinkable. I think we have to assume that the specimens really existed. Therefore, they must have become lost or destroyed some time between 1878 and 1921 (when Osborn and Mook failed to find them). As Carpenter (2006) points out, it in fact appears likely that the material was too fragile to survive, and that it crumbled to bits some time after its discovery. Matt Celeskey also noted this possibility (go here). Cope commented on this fragility, writing ‘in the extreme tenuity of all its parts, this vertebra exceeds this type of those already described, so that much care was requisite to secure its preservation’ (p. 563), and his drawing also suggests that the vertebra had been subjected to extensive weathering and hence was already fragile. Indeed its fragile nature explains the specific name he chose for it.

Furthermore, ‘preservatives had not yet been employed to harden fossil bones, the first of which was a sodium silicate solution used in O. C. Marsh’s preparation lab at Yale University beginning in the early 1880s’ (Carpenter 2006, p. 134). Support for the hypothesis that the material simply did not survive collection and storage comes from the fact that, within recent years, a Camarasaurus supremus vertebra collected from the same area is known to have crumbled into small useless fragments.

The other Amphicoelias

As I’ve now mentioned a few times, the detailed anatomy of the A. fragillimus vertebra (as figured by Cope) shows us that this sauropod was a diplodocoid. We can make a confident statement like this because it is relatively easy to distinguish the different sauropod clades on the basis of their vertebral anatomy, and A. fragillimus has all the distinctive anatomical features typical of diplodocoids. In fact it strongly resembles the vertebrae of the first named species of Amphicoelias, A. altus, which Cope described in February 1878.

A. altus is poorly known, but not as poorly known as A. fragillimus: it was first described for vertebrae, a pubic bone and a femur (Cope 1878), but a scapula, coracoid, ulna and partial skull were later referred to it. Based on these remains, A. altus was similar in size to Diplodocus carnegii and probably around 25 m long (Paul 1994a, b), and it is particularly interesting among diplodocoids in that its femora were markedly elongate and slender. Some workers have regarded A. altus as particularly close to Diplodocus, in which case it would be a diplodocid diplodocoid, and probably a diplodocine diplodocid diplodocoid. However, it has also been asserted that A. altus was a basal diplodocoid, and thus more archaic than diplodocids and other flagellicaudatan diplodocoids (that’s right, I said flagellicaudatan) [adjacent image shows Diplodocus mount at Denver Museum of Nature and Science].

Was Cope right in referring his second Amphicoelias species to the same genus as the first? Several authors have thought so, and in fact have gone so far as to state that ‘it is doubtful … if the characters described by Cope warrant the placing of the type [of A. fragillimus] in another species different from A. altus’ (Osborn & Mook 1921, p. 279), or ‘there is no reason not to consider [A. fragillimus] a very large individual of A. altus’ (McIntosh 1998, p. 502). If this is true then, like A. altus, it’s reasonable to assume that A. fragillimus was also superficially Diplodocus-like, and with particularly elongate, slender femora (a shocking idea given the animal’s size).

Carpenter argues in his new paper that, in fact, A. fragillimus seems to have differed from A. altus in a number of anatomical details, and that the two might not have been congeneric after all. As he notes, this remains untestable in the absence of better remains however. Let’s all hope and pray that a new generic name is up for grabs, and I don’t want any ‘superlative + saurus’ nominations.

One final thing. Whats with the image at the top of the page? I discovered it while googling Amphicoelias. Huh, in my day the only decent zoid was Hellrunner... For the story on the image at left go here (no, thats not an Amphicoelias vertebra, its Matt Wedel. The bone, however, is from a diplodocoid... although not an Amphicoelias), and for previous posts on sauropods see the series on Angloposeidon, the Christmas post on Turiasaurus, some assorted ramblings on British Wealden sauropods, and a post devoted entirely to the anatomy of their hands.

Refs - -

Carpenter, K. 2006. Biggest of the big: a critical re-evaluation of the mega-sauropod Amphicoelias fragillimus Cope, 1878. New Mexico Museum of Natural History and Science, Bulletin 36, 131-137.

Cope, E. D. 1878. On the saurians recently discovered in the Dakota Beds of Colorado. The American Naturalist 12 (2), 71-85.

Davidson, J. P. 2002. Bonehead mistakes: the backround in scientific literature and illustrations for Edward Drinker Copes first restoration of Elasmosaurus platyurus. Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 152, 215-240.

McIntosh, J. S. 1998. New information about the Cope collection of sauropods from Garden Park, Colorado. Modern Geology 23, 481-506.

Osborn, H. F. & Mook, C. C. 1921. Camarasaurus, Amphicoelias and other sauropods of Cope. Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History, n.s. 3, 247-287.

Paul, G. S. 1994a. Big sauropods – really, really big sauropods. The Dinosaur Report Fall 1994, 12-13.

- . 1994b. Is Garden Park home to the world’s largest known land animal? Tracks in Time 4 (5), 1.

Storrs, G. W. 1984. Elasmosaurus platyurus and a page from the Cope-Marsh war. Discovery 17 (2), 25-27.

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Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Biggest…. sauropod…. ever (part…. I)

Finally, its that post on gigantic mega-sauropods you’ve all been oh-so-patiently waiting for. Note that Ive decided to do a new thing, and have left the teaser post on its own (rather than over-writing it with this new version). Talking of new things, recall that something about my blogging habits is set to change soon.. the word is already on the street (to use the words of Carel Brest van Kempen), but Im going to keep quiet about it for a bit longer. All will be revealed [UPDATE: go here for the news]. Anyway, to business. Even if you’re not an expert on dinosaurs, it’s likely that you’ve heard – firstly – that some sauropods were rily, rily big and – secondly – that these biggest of the big included such whoppers as Seismosaurus, Supersaurus and Argentinosaurus. It’s always helpful that their names are easy to remember. Recent work has not only resulted in the publication of reasonably accurate size estimates for these dinosaurs, it has also clarified their taxonomy and phylogenetic positions.

Supersaurus vivianae from the Morrison Formation of Colorado is, despite its name, a valid taxon – specifically it’s a diplodocid diplodocoid, and apparently an apatosaurine (the image at the top of page shows a new skeletal mount of this taxon). Recent estimates put its total length at 33 m. The most oft-figured bit of Supersaurus is its immense scapulocoracoid: it’s usually depicted with the late Jim Jensen, its discoverer and describer, lying alongside it. For a change, here (at left) is a curious new take on the theme (borrowed from here). Oh, and if you’re wondering about Ultrasauros (originally informally named Ultrasaurus: note the spelling difference), it’s no longer regarded as a valid taxon: the type material - a dorsal vertebra - was shown by Brian Curtice and colleagues (Curtice et al. 1996) to belong to Supersaurus (come back Brian, all is forgiven!) while the famous Ultrasauros scapulocoracoid seems to belong to Brachiosaurus. Below, at left, you can see dead fish expert Graeme Elliott standing alongside the Ultrasauros scapulocoracoid (go here for hilarious caption, sorry Graeme).

Moving on, Seismosaurus hallorum (originally described as S. halli), from the Morrison Formation of New Mexico, is also a diplodocid diplodocoid, but recent work indicates that it is not generically distinct from Diplodocus and should thus be renamed Diplodocus hallorum. Originally claimed to be over 40 m long, new estimates put it between 30 and 35 m. Supersaurus and Diplodocus hallorum, being relatively gracile diplodocids, probably weighed between 25 and 50 tons (Paul 1994a, b, 1997).

A few more super-sauropods have been added to the list in recent years. Most are titanosaurs, the predominantly Cretaceous sauropod clade originally thought to be late-surviving relatives of diplodocoids but now known to be close kin of the short-skulled camarasaurs and brachiosaurs. Argentinosaurus huinculensis, named in 1993, is a huge titanosaur from the Upper Cretaceous Río Limay Formation of Argentina: it was perhaps 30 m long. Paralititan stromeri is another massive titanosaur, this time from the Upper Cretaceous of Egypt. Estimated by its describers as having been around 30 m long, it has more recently been down-sized to a mere 26 m (image below left is Todd Marshalls painting of Paralititan, taken from here. Go here for yours truly posing in bizarre fashion with the same image). Puertasaurus reuili, named in 2005 and from the Upper Cretaceous Pari Aike Formation of Argentina, was similar in size to these forms. Finally, Turiasaurus riodevensis is a gigantic Spanish form, and it’s not a titanosaur, belonging instead to a hitherto unrecognised clade termed Turiasauria. It was described at the end of 2006 (go here for more) and is one of the biggest sauropods known, with a length of 36-39 m.

Exactly how heavy these mega-sauropods were is mildly controversial. Accurate mass estimates generally agree that they were on the order of 80-90 tons, but Royo-Torres et al. (2006), the describers of Turiasaurus, put this animal at half this. However, they used a notoriously unreliable method of estimating weight.

While you might have heard of Supersaurus, Seimosaurus or Argentinosaurus – and perhaps even Turiasaurus and Paralititan – have you heard of… Amphicoelias fragillimus? Well, ok, if you’re a dinosaur ubernerd then the answer will be yes, but not if you’re a normal person. Though described as long ago as 1878, this sauropod has remained decidedly obscure and hardly heard of until pretty recently. I’ve done my part for the cause, having mentioned it at every opportunity: in both Dinosaurs of the Isle of Wight, and Walking With Dinosaurs: The Evidence, it’s discussed and touted as, possibly, the biggest sauropod of them all. Naish & Martill (2001), for example, stated ‘What has recently been claimed as the biggest of all sauropods and, indeed, the biggest of all land animals, is actually a specimen discovered in 1878. Based only on a single enormous vertebra, now lost, Amphicoelias fragillimus has been estimated to have reached a length of 60 m and may have attained a weight of 150 tons!’ (p. 230). If these estimates are valid, then this animal was twice as long as Supersaurus and Diplodocus, and perhaps over four times heavier. Err, gosh.

Amphicoelias fragillimus, giant of giants

In August 1878 the famous and prolific scientist* Edward Drinker Cope (1840-1897), portrait at left, described a new immense sauropod, Amphicoelias fragillimus, from the Garden Park quarries of the Morrison Formation of Colorado. It was represented only by an incomplete dorsal vertebra and the distal end of a femur (contra Naish & Martill above: whoops!). A good drawing of the vertebra was provided (Cope 1878), showing that this sauropod was clearly a diplodocoid: a member of the same sauropod clade as Diplodocus, Apatosaurus and their relatives (the name Diplodocimorpha is also sometimes used for these animals: see Taylor & Naish 2005: free pdf available here). The big deal is how, err, big these remains were. The partial vertebra had a preserved height of 1.5 m and, when reconstructed on the basis of comparison with complete diplodocoid vertebrae, has a total height of 2.7 m. Again… gosh (or words to that effect).

* Though usually described (by palaeontologists) as a palaeontologist, Cope was also an accomplished herpetologist and ichthyologist, which explains the name of the journal Copeia.

If history were fair, we would all have grown up familiar with Cope’s hyper-enormous Amphicoelias fragillimus, and we would be less impressed by Brachiosaurus and Balaenoptera, let alone with paltry little 20-m long sauropods like ‘Angloposeidon’ (go here). But it was not to be, and it was to sink into the morass of obscurity. In a major 1921 review of Cope’s sauropods, Henry Fairfield Osborn and Charles Mook noted that they were unable to locate the immense vertebra in Cope’s sauropod collection (Osborn & Mook 1921), today at the American Museum of Natural History (New York). It was lost.

And… I’ll have to stop there. The rest of the story will come in part II: I am aiming to post it tomorrow (10th Jan 2007). It concentrates on those recent studies that have looked at this species, and one of the most-asked questions about this remarkable dinosaur: was it a hoax? Stay tuned, all will be revealed. And I’m not stringing it out on purpose – I honestly don’t have enough time in my life to deal with all this stuff in one go. Sigh. And apologies to Ken Carpenter, who is no doubt wondering why I haven’t yet cited his paper…

Refs - -

Cope, E. D. 1878. A new species of Amphicoelias. American Naturalist 12, 563-565.

Curtice, B. D., Stadtman, K. L. & Curtice, L. J. 1996. A reassessment of Ultrasauros macintoshi (Jensen, 1985). In Morales, M. (ed) The Continental Jurassic. Museum of Northern Arizona Bulletin 60, 87-95.

Davidson, J. P. 2002. Bonehead mistakes: the backround in scientific literature and illustrations for Edward Drinker Cope's first restoration of Elasmosaurus platyurus. Proceedings of the Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia 152, 215-240.

McIntosh, J. S. 1998. New information about the Cope collection of sauropods from Garden Park, Colorado. Modern Geology 23, 481-506.

Naish, D. & Martill, D. M. 2001. Saurischian dinosaurs 1: Sauropods. In Martill, D. M. & Naish, D. (eds) Dinosaurs of the Isle of Wight. The Palaeontological Association (London), pp. 185-241.

Osborn, H. F. & Mook, C. C. 1921. Camarasaurus, Amphicoelias and other sauropods of Cope. Memoirs of the American Museum of Natural History, n.s. 3, 247-287.

Paul, G. S. 1994a. Is Garden Park home to the world’s largest known land animal? Tracks in Time 4 (5), 1.

- . 1994b. Big sauropods – really, really big sauropods. The Dinosaur Report Fall 1994, 12-13.

- . 1997. Dinosaur models: the good, the bad, and using them to estimate the mass of dinosaurs. In Wolberg, D. L., Stump, E. & Rosenberg, G. D. (eds) Dinofest International: Proceedings of a Symposium Sponsored by Arizona State University. Academy of Natural Sciences (Philadelphia), pp. 129-154.

Royo-Torres, R., Cobos, A. & Alcalá, L. 2006. A giant European dinosaur and a new sauropod clade. Science 314, 1925-1927.

Taylor, M. P. & Naish, D. 2005. The phylogenetic taxonomy of Diplodocoidea (Dinosauria: Sauropoda). PaleoBios 25, 1-7.

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Friday, January 05, 2007

Finally, some hot giant amphicoelian action


[click for larger version. Diagram produced by Ken Carpenter]

FULL POST TO COME LATER TODAY (9th Jan 2007)

After years of suffering all-too-brief mentions, asides and speculative remarks, the oft-alluded-to but long-neglected gigantic diplodocoid sauropod Amphicoelias fragillimus has been re-examined. Named by Edward Drinker Cope in 1878, it is known only from scant material (a single partial vertebra and fragment of femur) that – to make a bad situation worse – was somehow lost prior to the 1920s. But scant and lost or not, this material shows that A. fragillimus was immense, and in fact the most immense of all mega-sauropods. Full post to follow soon…

Thanks to Mike P. Taylor for the heads-up.

And for the latest news on Tetrapod Zoology do go here.

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Saturday, December 23, 2006

Happy Christmas, from gigantic Spanish sauropods... or, alas, poor ‘Angloposeidon’

I said the last post would likely be the last before 2007. I lied, as while checking my emails this morning, something came up that I just can’t resist commenting on. As regular blog-readers will know, back in 2004 I and colleagues described a large cervical vertebra from an Isle of Wight sauropod dinosaur (see ‘Angloposeidon’, the unreported story: part I, part II, part III and part IV). Belonging to a large brachiosaurid closely related to the Upper Jurassic Brachiosaurus and Lower Cretaceous Sauroposeidon, the Isle of Wight specimen is 745 mm long, which suggests a total length exceeding 20 m. That made it the largest published European dinosaur (Naish et al. 2004). However, when the time came to talk to journalists about the discovery, I mentioned on several occasions the fact that even bigger European dinosaurs were due to the published in the near future. As I said in part IV

During the long period of time in which the [‘Angloposeidon’] manuscript was in preparation I spoke to several European colleagues who told me of new sauropods from Portugal and Spain that would easily outclass MIWG.7306 in terms of size. I had this on my mind all the way through the submission process, and at any time I expected there to be some report of a new European sauropod that had a total length exceeding 30 m. But even today such discoveries have yet to materialise, and having now seen some of the specimens in question I know that they fail to come close to the 20 m + estimated for MIWG.7306.

The news, of course, is that one of these Iberian giants has just been published (Royo-Torres et al. 2006): its the new taxon Turiasaurus riodevensis from the Villar del Arzobispo Formation (Jurassic-Cretaceus boundary) of Riodeva (Teruel Province, Spain) [many thanks to those who have sent the pdf!]. And it doesnt fail to meet the hype: it really is immense (so, the other Iberian giants that Ive seen were mere pretenders). Turiasaurus has a humerus about 1.8 m long and an estimated weight of over 40 tons. This makes it quite bigger than ‘Angloposeidon’ and in fact one of the biggest sauropods in the world, almost on par with immense titanosaurs like Argentinosaurus and Paralititan. Furthermore, phylogenetic analysis indicates that Turiasaurus belongs to a new clade located close to the origin of Neosauropoda (the macronarian-diplodocoid clade). Galveosaurus (named in 2005, and previously regarded as a cetiosaurid*) and Losillasaurus (named in 2001 and regarded as a diplodocoid, but since suggested to be a mamenchisaurid**) also seem to be turiasaurians. Thats pretty interesting, though it has to be said that the statistical support for turiasaurian monophyly is not overwhelmingly impressive.

* And later renamed Galvesaurus by a different group of authors. I will cover the Galveosaurus-Galvesaurus issue some time in the future.

** The correct term for the group dubbed omeisaurids by some.


Furthermore, the fact that Turiasaurus is represented by good, associated remains means that it might help clear up some of the mess represented by isolated remains (see previous post: Obscure dinosaurs of the Kimmeridge Clay). Scattered throughout the European Jurassic and Cretaceous record are assorted sauropod teeth that roughly resemble the teeth of better known forms, such as camarasaurs and brachiosaurids, but also have a unique look about them. Examples include the huge, beautifully preserved tooth named Oplosaurus armatus (from the Isle of Wight*) and the unusual specimen Cardiodon rugulosus from the Middle Jurassic Forest Marble Formation of Bradford-on-Avon, Wiltshire. It now turns out that these teeth are similar to those of Turiasaurus, which raises the interesting possibility that they are further representatives of this newly-recognised group. That would be cool.

* For more on Oplosaurus and other Lower Cretaceous English sauropods go here.

Anyway, Ill have more to say on turiasaurians and other Iberian sauropods in the future. And it really is relevant as I and colleagues (Barbara Sánchez-Hernández and Mike Benton) currently have an article in press on dinosaurs (including sauropods) from the Villar del Arzobispo Formation. Maybe some of the material we have belongs to Turiasaurus? Well see...

Finally, in other dinosaur news, youll note from the big picture above that Tom Holtzs big dinosaur encyclopedia is finally being advertised. I discussed it previously here.

All the best for Christmas and the New Year. My new year’s resolution? To finish writing all those blog posts I’ve been promising for the last year. Controversial mammals from Borneo, the passerine supertree, rhinogradentians, giant Australian feral cats, temnospondyls, more on tupuxuarids, agamas and sea snakes, the biggest slow worms, fake Chinese turtles, amphisbaenians, and loads more on sauropods, theropods, pneumaticity, flightless birds, bizarre pterosaurs, and giant eagles. And keep an eye on Tetrapod Zoology’s 1st Birthday... Goodbye 2006!

Refs - -

Naish, D., Martill, D. M., Cooper, D. & Stevens, K. A. 2004. Europe’s largest dinosaur? A giant brachiosaurid cervical vertebra from the Wessex Formation (Early Cretaceous) of southern England. Cretaceous Research 25, 787-795.

Royo-Torres, R., Cobos, A. & Alcala, L. 2006. A giant European dinosaur and a new sauropod clade. Science 314, 1925-1927.

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Saturday, July 15, 2006

‘Angloposeidon’, the unreported story, part IV


This post follows on from the previous three (part I here, part II here, and part III here), and if you read to the end of part III you’ll know that I got as far as talking about the media attention that the Naish et al. (2004) paper received in late November 2004. As mentioned, I spoke to lots of journalists, and among them, one in particular had something very interesting to say. Unfortunately I forget his name, but I do recall that he was based on the Isle of Wight. His recollection was that the specimen had in fact been brought to the attention of the media before. Basing my conclusions on what happened with Eotyrannus, this is almost certainly correct.

Steve Hutt’s plan with Isle of Wight dinosaur discoveries (and you’ll recall from the previous posts that Steve was the first person other than Gavin Leng to become acquainted with MIWG.7306) has always been to get publicity both on the discovery of a specimen, and on the publication of the formal description. So Eotyrannus was in the newspapers as a new dinosaur discovery in 1998, and then again in 2001 when it was formally named and described (Hutt et al. 2001). Most of us hold off on talking to the press until our technical work has been published, but I’m not knocking Steve for his double-whammy approach, as the media are evidently interested enough to cover these stories twice.

So while I’ve never seen the relevant articles, it seems that MIWG.7306 was reported in the newspapers at the time of its discovery. It also turns out that a semi-technical report was published on the specimen, and to my annoyance I didn’t find out about this until recently. The article in question is by Jon Radley, well known for his excellent work on Wealden stratigraphy, and it includes two paragraphs on the specimen and a photo (Radley 1997, pp. 108-109). The relevant section reads (though with some typos corrected)…

A brachiosaurid sauropod vertebra from the Wessex Formation (Wealden Group, Lower Cretaceous) of Sudmoor Point

In the autumn of 1993 Mr. G. Leng discovered a large sauropod vertebra derived from a plant debris bed exposed in the cliff top approximately 1 km northwest of Chilton Chine (SZ 399825). Mr. Leng has generously donated this important specimen to the Museum of IW Geology (MIWG 7306) with the permission of the National Trust. The specimen is preserved in a large, well-cemented sideritic concretion and is consequently only partly crushed. Small quantities of pyrite occur in the bone material and appear to be quite stable.

The bone is 0.75 m long and now ranks as the largest sauropod vertebra in the museum collection. Mr. S. Hutt has identified it as a cervical (neck) vertebra of an adult brachiosaurid sauropod. It is deeply socketed and possesses large prezygapophyses and postzygapophyses. The nature of construction is extremely light with well developed networks of pleurocoels (air chambers). From its size, one can calculate that it came from an animal approximately 22 to 25 m in length. Most brachiosaurid remains discovered so far on the Island are of considerably smaller animals – Radley & Hutt (1993) provided outline details of a recent find. It is hoped that the vertebra will be on temporary display in the museum in the near future.

A few things make Jon’s article particularly interesting. The ‘autumn of 2003’ date he provides is different from the 2002 one I was provided by MIWG staff, and the 750 mm length he provides is of course accurate (and presumably so because it’s the centrum length alone). The article also includes the first ever figure of the specimen, showing it in its unprepared, siderite-encased case (a scan of that figure is included here). Of course the article doesn’t in any way diminish the value of the final published description (Naish et al. 2004) and is nothing more than an initial, preliminary report. I just wish that I’d known about it when writing Dinosaurs of the Isle of Wight and the final MIWG.7306 paper, as then I could have cited it. Oh well.

It turns out that the final published description – while not bad as descriptions go – only really scratches the surface in terms of what information we can learn from MIWG.7306. Previously I discussed the incredible fact that brachiosaurid vertebrae are as much as 80 or 90% air, and that this degree of pneumatisation might mean an awful lot as goes physiology and biology. Because MIWG.7306 is broken into halves, making examination of its pneumatic interior possible, a current project is to get lots more data about pneumaticity out of it. That’s ongoing however, so I don’t want to talk more about it now.

MIWG.7306 also gives us new information on the diversity and distribution of brachiosaurids. MIWG.7306 clearly shares a number of detailed features only with Brachiosaurus of the Late Jurassic of North America and eastern Africa, and with Sauroposeidon of the Early Cretaceous of the USA, and as discussed in the paper (Naish et al. 2004) it seems that MIWG.7306 might even be phylogenetically intermediate between these two forms. One of the big questions concerning brachiosaurids is which other sauropods are members of this clade too, and this is an area currently under study by my colleague Mike P. Taylor, who has a lot of new data (and some new species) on this subject.

But if MIWG.7306 represents an animal that is ‘phylogenetically intermediate’ between Brachiosaurus and Sauroposeidon, and given that it’s been publicised as a ‘new’ dinosaur, why didn’t we name it? That’s a good question, and there are two answers.

Firstly, most experts agree that specimens should only be named as new taxa if they can be can be shown to be diagnostic: that is, they possess unique features which allow them to be differentiated from other taxa. Given that taxa evolve from ancestors, and evolve into descendants, there aren’t sharp boundaries between species and genera – rather, they grade into one another. Consequently, so-called diagnostic features must also, at some stage in any lineage, morph into the slightly different conditions present in ancestors and/or descendants, and multiple intermediate conditions must exist between any two ‘diagnostic’ end-states. We therefore, arbitrarily, chose cut-off points in how much variation we tolerate within any taxon – in other words, we arbitrarily decide how we chop up a lineage into those units we call species and genera. As a rough rule of thumb this all works, more or less, so long as it’s understood that species are artificial segments of lineages (though having said that, any species that can be shown to be the ‘end point’ of its respective lineage is a clade, and of course this applies to living species given that they don’t have descendants). Anyway, I’m going off here at a tangent: this is the sort of heavy philosophical stuff that systematists have been arguing over for decades.

MIWG.7306 possesses loads of anatomical features that are also present in Brachiosaurus and Sauroposeidon, and it even shares some features that are present in Sauroposeidon and not in Brachiosaurus but, so far as we can tell, it doesn’t possess any features that are unique and thereby allow it to be reliably differentiated from all other sauropods. That’s almost certainly is an artefact resulting from the fact that we only have two cervical vertebrae of course – if we had the whole skeleton things would be different. But, as it stands, MIWG.7306 cannot presently be diagnosed as a new species.

Actually, for a while I’ll admit that we thought that MIWG.7306 could be diagnosed. One of several unsolved mysteries about the specimen is the identity of a bizarre, oddly shaped chunk of bone found encased in the same nodule (Dave Martill is holding it in the adjacent image). Smoothly convex on one side, but with a series of subparallel ribs on the other, it was tentatively identified by David Cooper as part of the apex of the neural spine. I thought later on that it might be a partial diapophysis*, as those of brachiosaurids can descend ventrally from the side of the centrum as plate-like processes with smoothly convex lateral surfaces. If this identification is right, then the diapophysis of MIWG.7306 is uniquely odd, as it possesses a small rhomboidal opening near its (presumed) posterior border. Such a feature is unknown elsewhere in sauropods, and it’s the sort of feature we might chose to regard as diagnostic. I now have serious doubts about my identification of this object as a diapophysis, and I think that David was right with the neural spine identification. Images of the object were shown to sauropod-obsessed colleagues, and they remains uncertain as to what it is however, so the thing remains mysterious.

* In tetrapods with two-headed ribs, the more ventral rib head contacts a facet on the vertebra known as the parapophysis (plural parapophyses), while the more dorsal rib head contacts a facet known as the diapophysis (plural diapophyses). The positions of the parapophyses and diapophyses change along the length of the vertebral column, and indeed their relative positions allow us to identify where in the sequence an isolated vertebrae came from.

The second answer [to the question: why didn’t we name it?] is that MIWG.7306 comes from a geological unit (the Wessex Formation) where there are already lots of named sauropods, virtually all of which are based on non-overlapping fragments, such as vertebrae. What’s more, some of these (notably Eucamerotus, a form named for dorsal vertebrae), seem to be good honest brachiosaurids closely related to Brachiosaurus (and hence to MIWG.7306). It’s possible and perhaps likely that some of the other Wessex Formation sauropods, Eucamerotus among them, actually represent the same taxon as MIWG.7306, though of course this can’t be tested until we have good, more complete specimens (here you’ll recall the Barnes High brachiosaurid, still floating in scientific limbo). In view of this situation it would be regarded as bad practise to coin a new name for MIWG.7306.

Partly because it’s easier to say than ‘MIWG.7306’ we’ve elected to use a totally unofficial nickname for the taxon represented by MIWG.7306, and this is ‘Angloposeidon’, coined by brachiosaurophile Mike P. Taylor (who is irritated by my continual reference to him as such*). So long as it stays on the internet we’re ok: it must NOT be published!

* So why do I do it? Because there is already a well known Mike Taylor in the world of tetrapod zoology: the marine reptile expert Mike A. Taylor.

What do other experts think of MIWG.7306? During the long period of time in which the manuscript was in preparation I spoke to several European colleagues who told me of new sauropods from Portugal and Spain that would easily outclass MIWG.7306 in terms of size. I had this on my mind all the way through the submission process, and at any time I expected there to be some report of a new European sauropod that had a total length exceeding 30 m. But even today such discoveries have yet to materialise, and having now seen some of the specimens in question I know that they fail to come close to the 20 m + estimated for MIWG.7306. The accompanying image – a composite produced by Matt Wedel and Mike – shows the forelimb of one of these ‘gigantic’ European sauropods (with me for scale) adjacent to the Chicago mount of Brachiosaurus (with Mike for scale). ‘Angloposeidon’ was about equivalent in size to Brachiosaurus so far as we know, and as you can see, Brachiosaurus knocks spots off the European animal (which, by the way, is as yet undescribed and unnamed).

The MIWG.7306 paper hasn’t been cited much in the literature, but this results from the fact that bugger all has been published on Lower Cretaceous British sauropods since 2004. Matt Wedel – pneumaticity and giant brachiosaurid expert – has certainly been interested and even came to see the specimen in March 2004. He’s agreed with our interpretations, and in recent publications on Sauroposeidon has noted that MIWG.7306 shows that Britain was once home to a close relative of this Oklahoman giant (Wedel 2005: free pdf here). Sauroposeidon is from the Aptian-Albian Antlers Formation, whereas the Wessex Formation that yields MIWG.7306 is just a little older, being late Barremian in age. We also know that similar giant brachiosaurids were present in the Aptian-Albian Cloverley Formation of Montana, as evidenced by a single cervical vertebra held today at the Yale Peabody Museum. The specimen is from a juvenile brachiosaurid but, as Wedel (2005) noted, at 47 cm in length the specimen ‘is longer than the vertebrae of many adult sauropods’ (p. 55). Footprints produced by Sauroposeidon, or by a similar, closely related brachiosaurid are known from the Glen Rose Limestone of the Paluxy River, Texas. At up a metre in diameter, they must have been produced by a real giant, and, among roughly contemporaneous North American sauropods, only Sauroposeidon is big enough (Wedel 2005).

And that’s pretty much the whole story up to now. The main message I suppose you should take away is that producing a technical paper on a specimen – even a short one devoted to the description of a single bone – can be an absurdly drawn-out, lengthy affair literally years in the making, and this is all the more so when other projects and life in general get in the way. Discovered by an enthusiastic amateur who donated the specimen to his local museum (Gavin Leng), prepared by an amateur with scientific training (David Cooper), and eventually described technically by a team of palaeontologists, the MIWG.7306 story is also a nice example of the sort of successful collaboration that can result if people work together.

However, there is also a sad ending to this story. David Cooper, who devoted so much time to the specimen and initiated the research that culminated in the paper, had been suffering for some time from cancer, and by 2005 he knew his condition was terminal. Late in June 2005 I received an unexpected and saddening phonecall. Given that I received this news the day before his funeral, I was unable at such short notice to make the arrangements to attend. This, I regret.

For the latest news on Tetrapod Zoology please go here.

Refs - -

Hutt, S., Naish, D., Martill, D. M., Barker, M. J. & Newbery, P. 2001. A preliminary account of a new tyrannosauroid theropod from the Wessex Formation (Early Cretaceous) of southern England. Cretaceous Research 22, 227-242.

Naish, D., Martill, D. M., Cooper, D. & Stevens, K. A. 2004. Europe’s largest dinosaur? A giant brachiosaurid cervical vertebra from the Wessex Formation (Early Cretaceous) of southern England. Cretaceous Research 25, 787-795.

Radley, J. 1997. Geological report 1993-1994. Proceedings of the Isle of Wight Natural History and Archaeology Society 13, 107-114.

Wedel, M. J. & Cifelli, R.L. 2005. Sauroposeidon: Oklahoma’s native giant. Oklahoma Geology Notes 65, 40-57.

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Friday, June 16, 2006

Basal tyrant dinosaurs and my pet Mirischia

I knew when I started this blog that my posts would be a random compilation of thoughts and observations on both living and fossil tetrapods, and I’d somehow imagined that the posts about fossil tetrapods would draw more attention than those on the living ones. I felt this prediction had come true when the post on azhdarchid pterosaurs attracted a record 14 responses.

But by and large the posts on extant animals have drawn equal amounts of praise and attention. I’m a vertebrate palaeontologist specializing in dinosaurs, but I’m as interested in living animals as I am in long-dead ones, so this is all fine by me. I do sometimes get paranoid that I’m not bigging up my own subject enough, however, and for this reason I feel pressured to produce a post on dinosaurs. And given that I have my proverbial fingers on the pulse of basal tyrant dinosaur research, they’re as good a group to examine as any.

A few introductory comments for novices before I begin. Theropoda is the group name for the predatory dinosaurs (including birds), and Coelurosauria is a major theropod group that includes birds and all the bird-like theropods (including tyrannosauroids). Tyrannosauroidea includes the familiar giant tyrannosaurs like Tyrannosaurus of the Upper Cretaceous as well as an assortment of less familiar theropods, the oldest of which are from the Upper Jurassic.

So is it time to produce the definitive blog post on Eotyrannus lengi, the dinosaur I did my phd on? Maybe. Actually, no. Eotyrannus was named by myself and colleagues in 2001, and in that initial paper we proposed that it was a basal tyrannosauroid, and one of the most basal members of the group (Hutt et al. 2001). Since then I’ve described the anatomy of Eotyrannus in full and tedious detail (the relevant thesis chapter is 118 pp and over 30,000 words long) and have come to know it well. I am now utterly convinced that it is a tyrannosauroid, and the results of my cladistic analysis (and those of others – see Holtz 2004) support this. Every dinosaur expert who knows anything about Eotyrannus agrees, by the way.

It turns out that the 2001 characterisation of Eotyrannus is horrendously wrong, as a new rigorous skeletal reconstruction (to be published soon) shows. The animal looked substantially different from the way I initially reconstructed it (see Naish 2001, Naish et al. 2001 and Holtz 2004), and in detail it’s proved to be strikingly odd and unique in many, many features. I’ll talk about these details some time soon, but not now. In fact I’m currently making arrangements to get the full monograph published in a high prestige journal, and with the co-authorship of a leading expert on tyrant dinosaurs I hope to produce an important work on tyrannosauroid phylogeny and morphology. More on this as and when it happens.

Since Eotyrannus was published a few very interesting things have been happening in the world of basal tyrannosauroids. I was aiming to discuss all of these here, but as usual I veered off at a tangent and have hardly scratched the surface. Eotyrannus seems to have been a mid-sized theropod. The type specimen is a juvenile individual that would have been 4.5 m long when complete, but fragmentary specimens from larger individuals indicate that adults were perhaps around 7 m long. But other basal tyrannosauroids are way smaller than this, mostly being less than 3 m long.

We begin with Dilong paradoxus, a basal tyrannosauroid known from excellent near-complete specimens from the Lower Cretaceous Yixian Formation of Liaoning Province, China (Xu et al. 2004). The Yixian Formation is the now famous unit that has produced all those little coelurosaurs with feathers and other integumentary structures preserved, and Dilong is no exception. It is preserved with simple quill-like integumentary structures that seem antecedent to the true complex feathers that evolved later.

Dilong has proved to be a sort of Rosetta stone for me, allowing several previously enigmatic Lower Cretaceous coelurosaurs to be reinterpreted as additional basal tyrannosauroids. Given that I haven’t published the relevant details, I’d be silly if I gave the game away here, but to be honest the only people who really care about this already know the relevant details, and furthermore I am silly anyway. The news is that a controversial little coelurosaur from the Isle of Wight’s Wessex Formation, Calamosaurus foxi (known only from two cervical vertebrae, one of them incomplete), is so similar to the cervical vertebrae of Dilong that I am confident that it too should be identified as a basal tyrannosauroid. This is mentioned in a large manuscript that came back from review some weeks ago and is currently undergoing revision, but the full story is to be revealed in a short paper that’s been completed and reviewed but now awaits post-review revamping.

I previously had Calamosaurus down as a compsognathid (Naish et al. 2001). Compsognathids are, like tyrannosauroids, basal coelurosaurs, but they retained small body size throughout their history (so far as we know). They were also conservative in all being rather alike: morphologically unspecialized with relatively short forelimbs, rather long and gracile legs and feet, and a long tail. There’s a lot more that could be said about them but this isn’t the time. Here’s the thing: the fact that Calamosaurus probably isn’t one of them after all leads us to a key question. Namely, do all the other compsognathids really go together, or is Compsognathidae as currently perceived actually an artificial assemblage of distantly related (yet superficially similar) theropods?

Back in 2004 I and colleagues named the new Brazilian theropod Mirischia asymmetrica (photo at left). That name means ‘asymmetrical wonderful pelvis’, and I think it’s a rather good descriptive name. The only known specimen really is a ‘wonderful pelvis’ (though it also includes some of the hindlimb bones), as it is 3-D and fantastically well-preserved, including even soft tissues like part of the gut and a probable post-pubic air sac (and to know the importance of that latter feature you’ll have to wait for a future post). As you might guess, it’s also asymmetrical, but I won’t talk about that here. I also don’t want to talk about the embarrassing fact that Mirischia’s generic name might imply that it was named after the fund-giving Mirisch Foundation, but (annoyingly) I only found this out after the publication of the Mirischia paper.

Anyway, Mirischia is enough like Compsognathus – particularly in the detailed anatomy of its pubis – for me to convince myself that it must belong together with Compsognathus in a little clade, and by definition this clade has to be called Compsognathidae. So in the 2004 paper, Naish et al. argued strenuously that (1) there is a little clade called Compsognathidae, the members of which can be united on the basis of shared derived characters, and (2) in addition to Compsognathus, this clade includes Sinosauropteryx and Mirischia. This published opinion is in part the result of a long series of to-ings and fro-ings between myself and my good friend Nick Longrich, for Nick has long been a vocal opponent of the idea that Compsognathidae really is monophyletic. Nick thinks that some so-called compsognathids are basal maniraptorans, and that others aren’t even coelurosaurs, but to date he’s only published an abstract on this (and to see why this is interesting and important you’ll have to wait until yet another future post. Think alvarezsaurids and stagodontids). Alas poor Longrich, surely he can’t be right. By the way, if you’re at all interested in what Nick looks like, click here. Sorry Nick.

Here’s where we bring Dilong back in. The pelvic anatomy of Dilong – an undoubted basal tyrannosauroid – is (like that of Mirischia) rather like that of Compsognathus. This is disturbing, as it all but destroys the reasons for thinking that Mirischia can only be a compsognathid. Might it actually be a basal tyrannosauroid? This has implications for another supposed compsognathid: the Isle of Wight taxon Aristosuchus pusillus (photo at left, with interpretative restoration below) which, again, I’d previously identified with confidence as a close relative of Compsognathus (Naish 2002, Naish et al. 2001, 2004). So we can now doubt that those ‘compsognathids’ known only from pelvic material really truly are compsognathids. Again, this is an idea that I’m mentioning in that large in-preparation manuscript.

In my thesis I tried to test all of this: I included all of the relevant taxa (except Aristosuchus, as I decided it wasn’t complete enough to code) and all of the characters that have been used in this debate. And the result? Well, yes, there was a monophyletic Compsognathidae, but it consisted only of Compsognathus and one other taxon (and I’d rather not say which taxon that was right now). It wasn’t Mirischia, as this came out as… a basal tyrannosauroid. Two characters helped pull Mirischia into Tyrannosauroidea. One of these was discussed in the Naish et al. (2004) paper but the other was previously overlooked. I’ll not mention them here for fear of giving away all the secrets.

Furthermore, other supposed compsognathids did not group with Compsognathidae proper. Instead they were scattered about the base of Coelurosauria. So right now – while further work and further testing and further incorporation of data is needed – I am thinking that Nick was right, and that Compsognathidae in its old, inclusive sense is an artificial grouping.

People sometimes ask what sort of relevance stuff like this really has for our understanding of animals and their evolution. Well, it actually tells us an awful lot of stuff about patterns and trends. If so-called compsognathids – all of them relatively small, ecologically and morphologically generalized, long-limbed, long-tailed theropods that hunt small vertebrate prey – are not a clade but are actually scattered about the base of the coelurosaur family tree, this likely indicates that this ecotype was the ancestral one for coelurosaurs. We might already have thought that based on other lines of evidence, but this would help confirm it. There are indications that ‘compsognathids’ could make a living just about anywhere (for reasons that, again, I’ll have to cover in another post), and if this is valid then again we have another really interesting discovery about evolution at the base of Coelurosauria.

And I’ll have to stop there. I was planning to discuss the Jurassic basal tyrannosauroids Aviatyrannis (from Portugal) and Guanlong (from China). Another time. To readers who already knew all of this stuff, I apologise. To those who didn’t: welcome to the fantastic world of dinosaurs! More to come. For the latest news on Tetrapod Zoology do go here.

Refs - -

Holtz, T. R. 2004. Tyrannosauroidea. In Weishampel, D. B., Dodson, P. & Osmólska, H. (eds) The Dinosauria, Second Edition. University of California Press (Berkeley), pp. 111-136.

Hutt, S., Naish, D., Martill, D. M., Barker, M. J. & Newbery, P. 2001. A preliminary account of a new tyrannosauroid theropod from the Wessex Formation (Early Cretaceous) of southern England. Cretaceous Research 22, 227-242.

Naish, D. 2001. Eotyrannus lengi, a new coelurosaur from the Isle of Wight. Dino Press 5, 82-91.

- . 2002. The historical taxonomy of the Lower Cretaceous theropods (Dinosauria) Calamospondylus and Aristosuchus from the Isle of Wight. Proceedings of the Geologists’ Association 113, 153-163.

- ., Hutt, S. & Martill, D. M. 2001. Saurischian dinosaurs 2: Theropods. In Martill, D. M. & Naish, D. (eds) Dinosaurs of the Isle of Wight. The Palaeontological Association (London), pp. 242-309.

- ., Martill, D. M. & Frey, E. 2004. Ecology, systematics and biogeographical relationships of dinosaurs, including a new theropod, from the Santana Formation (?Albian, Early Cretaceous) of Brazil. Historical Biology 16, 57-70.

Xu, X., Norell, M. A., Kuang, X., Wang, X., Zhao, Q. & Jia, C. 2004. Basal tyrannosauroids from China and evidence for protofeathers in tyrannosauroids. Nature 431, 680-684.

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Monday, May 15, 2006

Pterosaur wings: broad-chord, narrow-chord, both, in-between, or…. all of the above?

What did pterosaurs look like when they were alive? Did they have relatively broad wing membranes [patagia from hereon] that - like those of most bats - stretched as far as their ankles, or did they have narrow patagia that attached to their hips, or perhaps to the tops of their thighs? Until the 1980s, pterosaurs were pretty much universally depicted as possessing broad-chord wings that extended to their ankles. There were exceptions: K. A. von Zittel (1882) imagined pterosaurs as possessing narrow, swallow-like wings that did not attach further distally than the knee, and Harry Seeley (1901) opined that the patagia may not have incorporated the hindlimbs at all. But, mostly, pterosaurs were regarded as bat-winged, an image that Kevin Padian (1987) argued to be primarily typological (viz, pterosaurs were initially imagined as bat-like, therefore they must have had bat-like patagia).

It’s well known that, following his studies of Dimorphodon and other pterosaurs, Padian championed the idea that pterosaurs were agile cursorial bipeds, and that their patagia were narrow and did not incorporate the hindlimbs (Padian 1983). This idea was popular for a while but, judging from the way pterosaurs are depicted today, it doesn’t seem that popular now (though this isn’t to say that there aren’t scientists and artists who are reconstructing pterosaurs in this manner).

If anything seems popular, it’s actually a sort of hybrid morphology: while the patagia are ordinarily depicted as incorporating the hindlimb, they aren’t shown as extending as far as the ankle, but to the knee or shin. This goes for all of John Sibbick’s pterosaurs (in Wellnhofer 1991 and elsewhere) as well as for many other popular life restorations. I’ll admit that my personal aesthetic sense of what is, and what is not, cool leads me to intuitively prefer the narrow-chord model, and as a teenage enthusiast self-teaching myself from the writings of Bob Bakker and Greg Paul I personally took a liking to narrow-chord wings. But being a scientist is all about going where the evidence leads, and not on what you might intuitively prefer. Where does the evidence lead: did pterosaurs have broad-chord or narrow-chord wings? Or both?

Having considered this matter in some depth (Naish & Martill 2003), and having looked at some of the pertinent specimens, I conclude that broad-chord patagia are best supported, and in fact are well supported. So, yes, the data best supports inclusion of the hindlimbs in the patagia, and extension of the patagia as far distally as the ankle. Shock horror: that’s a pretty controversial point of view in the world of pterosaur research. But quite a few specimens show this to have been the case. Let’s look at some of them.

-- The famous ‘dark wing’ Rhamphorhynchus specimen preserves intact, in-situ patagia, and the left brachiopatagium ‘curves caudomedially and attaches to the ankle of the left hindlimb’ (Frey et al. 2003, p. 243). This is clearly visible in good photos of the specimen and there is no question that the patagia are genuine, intact and preserved in-situ. I have access to an excellent cast of this three-dimensional specimen and am happy with Frey et al.’s interpretation.

-- The Eudimorphodon specimen MCSNB 8950 has patagia preserved adjacent to the ankles of both legs. Fibres preserved within the membranes appear to confirm brachiopatagia attaching as far distally as the ankle, and the presence of a cruropatagium (Bakhurina & Unwin 2003).

-- The holotype of little Sordes pilosus indisputably preserves brachiopatagia that attach to the ankles (Unwin & Bakhurina 1994). Claims that the patagial margins preserved in the fossil actually represent cracks are utterly unconvincing.

-- The Crato Formation azhdarchoid specimen SMNK Pal 3830 shows a brachiopatagium extending distally to contact the ankle (Frey et al. 2003). While this pterosaur is incomplete, the patagial edge is continuous, smoothly concave, and grades neatly into the side of the tarsus (see images above: click on them for larger versions). I’ve examined the specimen up-close in person, and was personally happy that the specimen really does preserve a partial brachiopatagium and really does preserve a brachiopatagium that attached at the ankle. In fact it was the key specimen that convinced me of the reality of broad-chord patagia. [Incidentally, the phylogenetic affinities of this specimen are uncertain. Frey et al. (2003) regarded as it a possible azhdarchid, but it possesses certain features suggesting that it might be more closely related to Tupuxuara (more news on this issue soon).]

While the interpretations given above have been challenged for some of these specimens (Peters 1995, 2001), I note the following: ALL the pterosaur specimens for which we have patagia appear to show broad-chord patagia and, while in some of these cases the broad-chord interpretation is ambiguous or arguable, there are NO specimens that unambiguously preserve narrow-chord patagia. Claims that narrow-chord membranes, unattached to the distal hindlimb or even unattached to the hindlimb altogether, are preserved in some specimens (e.g. the anurognathid Jeholopterus and the Zittel wing Rhamphorhynchus) are either based on data that is even more ambiguous than that discussed above, or are erroneous (e.g. the Zittel wing can’t be used to demonstrate lack of attachment to the hindlimb, as the caudolateral part of the membrane is missing and we don’t know how extensive the membrane was when complete).

Data from pterosaur hindlimb proportions provides support for the idea that the hindlimbs were incorporated into the patagia. By plotting the lengths of femora, tibiae and metatarsi onto ternary diagrams, Daniel Elvidge and David Unwin found that pterosaurs occupied a tight, compact group of data points within morphospace, and a ‘data cloud’ similar in size to that occupied by bats. The cloud occupied by birds was more than twice the size of the pterosaur or bat clouds (Elvidge & Unwin 2001). This data indicates that pterosaurs were constrained in hindlimb proportions in the same manner that bats are. I find the most plausible explanation for this to be the linking of the fore- and hindlimbs by patagia: because pterosaur hindlimbs were always a part of the wing apparatus, pterosaurs did not evolve the diverse hindlimb morphology that birds did.

Significantly (from the point of view of the discussion here), those pterosaur specimens preserved with patagia were distributed randomly within the pterosaur cloud. This indicates that broad-chord patagia are both widely distributed within pterosaurs, and the norm for the group. Dyke et al. (2006) have recently argued that broad-chord patagia may not have applied to all pterosaurs, but they seemed unaware that there is evidence for this morphology outside of Sordes.

I still think it’s at least possible that some pterosaurs had reduced patagia however. Morphological evidence suggests that dsungaripterids were quite terrestrial in habits (Fastnacht 2005), and it’s tempting to speculate that they were better suited for walking around on the ground than were others, and hence with less extensive patagia. But, hey, this is part of the reason why pterosaurs are so interesting: they’re unique, with no close extant analogues, and this is why they’re so controversial.

The evidence we have shows that broad-chord patagia were widespread among pterosaur clades. Maybe there were narrow-chord forms (with my money being on dsungaripterids), but we have yet to find soft-tissue evidence demonstrating their presence.

For the latest news on Tetrapod Zoology do go here.

Refs - -

Bakhurina, N. N. & Unwin, D. M. 2003. Reconstructing the flight apparatus of Eudimorphodon. Rivista del Museo Civico di Scienze Naturali “Enrico Caffi” 22, 5-8.

Dyke, G. J., Nudds, R. L. & Rayner, J. M. V. 2006. Limb disparity and wing shape in pterosaurs. Journal of Evolutionary Biology doi:10.1111/j.1420-9101.2006.01096.x

Elvidge, D. J. & Unwin, D. M. 2001. A morphometric analysis of the hind-limbs of pterosaurs. In Two Hundred Years of Pterosaurs, A Symposium on the Anatomy, Evolution, Palaeobiology and Environments of Mesozoic Flying Reptiles. Strata Série 1 11, 36.

Fastnacht, M. 2005. The first dsungaripterid pterosaur from the Kimmeridgian of Germany and the biomechanics of pterosaur long bones. Acta Palaeontologica Polonica 50, 273-288.

Frey, E., Tischlinger, H., Buchy, M.-C. & Martill, D. M. 2003. New specimens of Pterosauria (Reptilia) with soft parts with implications for pterosaurian anatomy and locomotion. In Buffetaut, E. & Mazin, J.-M. (eds) Evolution and Palaeobiology of Pterosaurs. Geological Society Special Publication 217. The Geological Society of London, pp. 233-266.

Naish, D. & Martill, D. M. 2003. Pterosaurs – a successful invasion of prehistoric skies. Biologist 50, 213-216.

Padian, K. 1983. A functional analysis of flying and walking in pterosaurs. Paleobiology 9, 218-239.

- . 1987. The case of the bat-winged pterosaur: typological taxonomy and the influence of pictorial representation on scientific perception. In Czerkas, S. J. & Olson, E. C. (eds) Dinosaurs Past and Present Vol. II. Natural History Museum of Los Angeles County/University of Washington Press (Seattle and London), pp. 64-81.

Peters, D. 1995. Wing shape in pterosaurs. Nature 374, 315-316.

- . 2002. A new model for the evolution of the pterosaur wing – with a twist. Historical Biology 15, 277-301.

Seeley, H. G. 1901. Dragons of the Air: An Account of Extinct Flying Reptiles. Methuen (London).

Unwin, D. M. & Bakhurina, N. N. 1994. Sordes pilosus and the nature of the pterosaur flight apparatus. Nature 371, 62-64.

Wellnhofer, P. 1991. The Illustrated Encyclopedia of Pterosaurs. Salamander Books (London).

Zittel, K. A. von 1882. Über Flugsaurier aus dem lithographischen Schiefer Bayerns. Paläontographica 29, 47-80.

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Monday, April 03, 2006

Why azhdarchids were giant storks


People often talk of getting a ‘culture shock’ when they travel abroad. But in the world of zoological uber-nerdiness, you don’t need to go abroad to experience a culture shock, you merely need to be an exposed to an idea that is shockingly alien and counter-intuitive. I still have fond memories of those days back in 1997 when I first visited the School of Earth & Environmental Sciences at the University of Portsmouth to be interviewed by the man who would later become my phd supervisor, Dave Martill. Of all the surprising things I was exposed to at the time, none was more striking and bizarre than the gigantic wall-mounted display on azhdarchid pterosaurs. Featuring a life-sized wing skeleton, some photos of a grinning German man* holding a bone, and a giant colour mural by John Sibbick, it’s a pretty good exhibition, and eight years later it’s still in the same place.

* Dino Frey, guru of ‘konstruction morphology’

Based on various of their morphological details, I had concluded that azhdarchids were most likely stork-like generalists that made their living by picking up assorted invertebrates and vertebrates, terrestrial and aquatic. Several other workers had also expressed a preference for this hypothesis. But Sibbick’s giant colour mural depicted azhdarchids in an altogether different manner: they were shown wheeling above a vast expanse of ocean, gliding above the water surface and swooping down to grab fish. They were depicted as ‘mega-skimmers’, and Dave was later to explain to me why he and his colleagues favoured this skim-feeding hypothesis. I found it unconvincing and told him about the merits of the stork idea. He disagreed. We still disagree.

Today we have a new pterosaur worker in our research group, Mark Witton, and he’s been looking at the morphology and palaeobiology of azhdarchids, among other things. At the risk of stealing his thunder (sorry Mark), I will say that he, also, is a supporter of the stork-like model. If you combine this with the recent work Dave and I have been doing on the non-azhdarchid azhdarchoids Tupuxuara and Thalassodromeus (the latter of which was claimed to be a skim-feeder), you can understand why the topics of skim feeding and azhdarchid lifestyles have become much discussed within our research group. Mark and I are obviously in happy agreement, but we still have to turn Dave around. I’ve wanted to write up my thoughts on this area for a while now, so here we go.

Interpreting azhdarchid palaeobiology

Since the announcement of its discovery in 1975, Quetzalcoatlus – the best known and best studied azhdarchid – has been imagined in several different ways. Initially it was interpreted as a vulture-like scavenger that soared over the Late Cretaceous landscape in search of dinosaur carcasses. Why was it interpreted this way? Well, apparently because Quetzalcoatlus was a big flying animal found in the same deposits as dinosaur bones (Lawson 1975). From a scientific perspective that’s not exactly compelling.

A second hypothesis was proposed by Langston (1981): that azhdarchids fed on burrowing invertebrates by probing for them in the substrate. This was also adopted by Wellnhofer (1991) (see p. 145, where Wellnhofer states ‘All this allows the possibililty that Quetzalcoatlus used its slender, pointed beak to search in the ground [my emphasis] for the molluscs and crabs that lived in the shallow pools of water’). Like Lawson’s scavenging idea, this appeared to be based on nothing more than circumstantial association of Quetzalcoatlus with other fossils, in this case invertebrate burrows. The same idea was endorsed by Lehman & Langston (1996), though only in an abstract. Lehman & Langston (1996) later came under extremely heavy fire from some workers, but the fact that Langston had actually proposed the probing idea first, and that Wellnhofer had agreed with it, seems to have been missed.

Describing the Asian azhdarchid Azhdarcho, Nesov (1984) was the first to propose a radically different hypothesis: that these pterosaurs might have behaved like Rynchops, the skimmers. These charadriiform birds fly low over the water surface, trawling their unusual, laterally compressed lower jaws through the water, snapping up the fish and crustaceans that they make contact with. However, Nesov didn’t base this idea on any features he observed among members of Azhdarchidae: he assumed that azhdarchids might have behaved this way, simply because other workers had earlier proposed a skimming lifestyle for other Cretaceous pterosaur groups. He wrote ‘If it is assumed that the Azhdarchinae could have flown like the Ornithocheirinae and Pteranodontinae – that is, like the Recent skimmers…’ (p. 42). He went on to propose that azhdarchids might have been swimmers (that’s not a typo) that captured aquatic prey, or that they might have ‘been able to hunt poorly flying vertebrates in the air’. Neither latter idea seems reasonable.

Paul (1987a, b) seems to have been the first to reject the scavenging hypothesis, at least in print, stating of Quetzalcoatlus that ‘Its slender, two-meter beak, with only thin bars around the external nares, is too weak for regular scavenging’ (p. 20). Even better, he suggested a fourth possible lifestyle, proposing (Paul 1987a) that Quetzalcoatlus ‘probably patrolled water courses, like a three-meter-tall stork, picking up fish and small animals’. I found Paul’s argument moderately compelling when I first read it I-don’t-know-how-many-years-ago, and I still find it moderately compelling today. Padian (1988) also rejected the scavenging idea and regarded azhdarchids as heron-like, noting that 'Langston, who knows [Quetzalcoatlus] better than anyone, finds some suggestive resemblances to a heron or egret' (p. 64). Does this mean that Langston had given up on the probing idea? Noting the long, inflexible azhdarchid neck, Halstead (1989) wrote that ‘Quetzalcoatlus had a neck which could only move up and down and was specialized for dipping down into the water to snatch fish’ (p. 160). This could perhaps be construed as agreement with the stork-like model.

In an article devoted exclusively to azhdarchid lifestyle, Iñaki Rodriguez Prieto (1998) argued against the scavenging hypothesis and agreed with Nesov’s skimming idea. Morphological features were used to support the latter concept, but they were either erroneous or just incorrect. Prieto argued that the bill of Quetzalcoatlus was laterally compressed, that terrestrial abilities were very poor, and that the uropatagia would have made the hind limbs functionally similar to the forked tails seen in highly aerial birds like frigate birds, swallows, and some kites. By implication, Quetzalcoatlus was deemed specialized for feeding on the wing, and it was on this basis that Prieto chose to follow the skimming hypothesis. All the features cited by Prieto are problematical, as we’ll see later. Prieto’s article was in Spanish and has been mostly overlooked.

Kellner & Langston (1996) also favoured the skimming hypothesis but did the same thing that Nesov did: they regarded it as ‘at least plausible’ for Quetzalcoatlus on the basis of the fact that it had been ‘previously advocated for Rhamphorhynchus … and later assumed for many other pterosaurs, including the larger toothless pterosaurs’ (p. 231). In other words, they didn’t provide any supporting evidence at all, but merely elected to follow conclusions made for other, morphologically different pterosaur taxa (and, by the way, the concept of skim-feeding in rhamphorhynchids and those other pterosaurs isn’t necessarily any more secure than it is for azhdarchids).

Unwin et al. (1997) noted that ‘unpublished functional studies and the circumstances of their preservation suggest that [azhdarchids] may have been piscivorous … feeding from the water surface while on the wing and using the long neck as a ‘fishing rod’’ (p. 48). They cited an abstract and Unwin’s unpublished thesis when discussing this area, but didn’t elaborate as to why they favoured the skimming hypothesis. Martill (1997), while being harshly critical of Lehman & Langston’s mud-probing idea, also agreed with the skimming hypothesis, but, I would argue (sorry Dave), presented it as a just-so story, not as an evidence-led hypothesis. The presence of a ‘highly streamlined skull’ (p. 73) was used to support skimming behaviour, as was the long stiff neck. Martill et al. (1998) rejected both the scavenging and mud-probing hypotheses, and regarded azhdarchids as ‘aerial piscivores or planktivores’ (p. 57). While noting the inflexibility of the neck, they didn’t provide any supporting evidence for this hypothesis however.

Finally, Bennett (2001) noted that the femora and metatarsal V of Quetzalcoatlus were robust relative to those of other pterodactyloids, and that its feet were larger and more robust than those of ornithocheiroids. These observations led him to regard Quetzalcoatlus as ‘better suited to terrestrial locomotion than Pteranodon’, and specialised for feeding on the ground. He wrote that ‘Quetzalcoatlus remains have been found far inland where they seem to have been heron- or stork-like in their ecology despite their great size’ (p. 136).

So that’s what’s in the literature: four hypotheses (scavenger, skimmer, stork and mud-prober). It’s problematical that hardly any morphological features have ever been used to support them, and in fact some of them seem decidedly arm-wavy and intuitive, rather than evidence-led. So in the interests of introducing some hypothesis testing into this area, I’ve listed below all those hypotheses that I consider at least feasible, and have made predictions as to what evidence we would require in order to consider them reasonable. I do not consider Nesov’s ideas that azhdarchids were swimming predators, or that they routinely captured flying vertebrates (presumably other pterosaurs and birds) likely, nor have I considered lifestyles that are obviously discordant with azhdarchid morphology (e.g. that they were deep divers, plunge divers, herbivores, aerial pirates or filter-feeders). I looked at as much literature as I could on form and function in bird bills, and also examined relevant specimens.

The hypotheses

Hypothesis 1: azhdarchids were vulture- or marabou-like scavengers, soaring over land and feeding from the carcasses of large terrestrial vertebrates.
Predictions: proficient terrestrial abilities; bill and head capable of probing into body cavities; bill robust around narial openings; flexible neck; highly developed soaring or gliding skills. Note that hooked bill tips are not necessarily needed for this lifestyle, given that marabou storks and some corvids (e.g. Thick-billed raven Corvus crassirostris) routinely scavenge, yet have pointed bill tips. Witmer & Rose (1991) noted this.

Hypothesis 2: azhdarchids were mud-probers (like sandpipers), pushing their bills into sediment in search of burrowing prey.
Predictions: proficient wading abilities (indicating by long, spreading toes); no need for highly developed soaring or gliding skills; skull should be specialized for probing, either with features allowing powerful gaping, with adaptations allowing rhynchokinesis, with a cross-section recalling that seen in mud-probing birds, and/or with well-developed tactile organs at the bill tip (e.g. Herbst corpuscles); neck should be reasonably flexible. Birds that probe sediment in search of prey have been shown to rely either on touch, on the detection of vibrations produced by the prey, or on the detection of pressure gradients surrounding hard objects (Gerritsen & Meijboom 1986, Piersma et al. 1998, Nebel et al. 2005). Pressure-sensitive organs termed Herbst corpuscles, embedded within pits on the premaxillary and dentary tips, are closely packed and particularly numerous in birds that probe sediments.

Hypothesis 3: azhdarchids were spear-fishers (like herons and anhingas), stalking fish in shallow water and spearing the body of the prey with sharp bill tips.
Predictions: proficient wading abilities (indicating by long, spreading toes) or swimming abilities; sharply pointed, spear-like bill; flexible neck that allows rapid darting of bill towards prey.

Hypothesis 4: azhdarchids were skim-feeders, flying low over the water and trawling the lower jaw through the water. In contrast to that of many other birds, the feeding behaviour and cranial morphology of skimmers has been well described (Arthur 1921, Tomkins 1951, Bock 1960, 1964, Zusi 1962).
Predictions: no need for proficient terrestrial abilities; highly skilled at fast, level flight; lower jaw laterally compressed and blade-like; streamlined bill; jaw joint, back of skull and neck able to withstand sudden jarring, with accessory articulation present between mandible and basicranium; upper jaw can be elevated relative to the basicranium (and is thus clear of the water surface during skimming); jaws capable of extremely rapid closure.

Hypothesis 5: azhdarchids were surface gleaners, or dippers, flying low over water and grasping food from the water surface (like albatrosses or frigate birds).
Predictions: no need for proficient terrestrial abilities (hind limbs may even be strongly reduced); highly developed soaring or gliding skills; jaws elongate with down-curved tips; flexible neck allowing the animal to reach down and behind itself as it picks up food while flying over the water.

Hypothesis 6: azhdarchids were stork-like generalists, picking up assorted invertebrate and vertebrate prey from shallow water and/or terrestrial environments.
Predictions: proficient terrestrial abilities; no need for highly developed soaring or gliding skills; bill elongate but lacking specializations (such as lateral or dorsoventral compression, keels, or hooked bill tips); neck flexibility not required as the neck only needs to bring the bill tips close to the ground; head-neck joint, at least, should be flexible.

The morphological evidence

Let’s now see how the morphological data matches with these hypotheses and their predictions. Firstly, despite all those early claims making out that azhdarchids were like immense vultures, with tremendously elongate wings indicative of superb soaring or gliding skills, we now know that this was just not true. In fact, their legs were proportionally long, their wings were proportionally short compared to those of other large pterosaurs, and preserved wing membranes (which reveal that the brachiopatagium attached to the ankle) show that their wing membranes actually made their wings proportionally broad, and with low aspect ratios. As Frey et al. (2003) concluded, azhdarchids exhibited poor gliding performance compared with other large pterosaurs. Prieto’s (1998) proposal that azhdarchid legs formed a pseudo ‘forked tail’ is nonsense given that the brachiopatagia incorporated the legs into the wings: they didn’t trail behind the body as do a bird’s tail feathers.

In terms of terrestrial abilities, we should note first that pterodactyloids in general were quite capable quadrupeds, and there is little reason to regard them as clumsy or helpless when grounded. Sure, they couldn’t sprint at speeds equaling those of cursorial animals, but there is every indication that they were proficient walkers, more than capable of foraging quadrupedally on the ground or in shallow water. This is backed up by functional morphology, computer modelling, and evidence from trackways. With their proportionally short wings, long legs with robust femora, and large, robust feet (Bennett 2001), azhdarchids were likely to have been even better suited for terrestrial foraging than most other pterodactyloids. These lines of evidence suggest that azhdarchids were not specialized for a life on the wing (contra Prieto 1998): rather, they were better on the ground than were most other pterosaurs.

What does skull anatomy suggest? Good azhdarchid skulls are few and far between, with the best one being the incomplete rostrum described by Kellner & Langston (1996). In basic terms, the rostrum is shaped like a very long scalene triangle: it’s deepest at the level of the nasoantorbital fenestra, but gradually tapers rostrally to a point. Some kind of bony crest is present over the caudal part of the nasoantorbital fenestra. Ignoring the crest, which living animals have a rostrum shaped like this? Storks, and not much else. Apparently the specimen described by Kellner & Langston (1996) is squashed flat, however, which makes it impossible to confirm whether the snout had the subrounded cross-sectional shape seen in storks. This is the spanner in the works, because if the skull is strongly compressed laterally, then the skull really isn’t stork-like at all, but probably suited for some other, quite different mode of life. Like skimming.

But hold on: this isn’t the only azhdarchid skull fragment known. Firstly, there’s Zhejiangopterus. Again, we have a pointed, elongate, overall stork-like rostrum, but again the only figured specimen is apparently squashed flat, so it’s not much use here. Aha, but there’s Azhdarcho. Its rostrum fragments clearly belonged to a long, pointed (cough - stork-like - cough) rostrum that would have been subtriangular in cross-section, with the flat palate forming the triangle’s base (Nesov 1984). An incomplete three-dimensional rostrum from Morocco, identified as ‘?Azhdarchidae’, was described by Wellnhofer & Buffetaut (1999). It most certainly is not strongly compressed laterally, but is instead like a broad-based triangle in cross-section. Finally, a complete mandible is known for the Hungarian azhdarchid Bakonydraco. It’s pretty odd, being pointed at its tip, slightly concave dorsally at the symphysis, and with a ventral mid-line ridge. The ridge is ventrally rounded, and not keel-like (Ősi et al. 2005). So, again, it's not laterally compressed.

Evaluation of the hypotheses

On the basis of all these features, how do the various hypotheses hold up?

Hypothesis 1 (the idea that azhdarchids were vulture- or marabou-like scavengers) doesn’t stand up too well: while it’s been all but rejected by some workers, note that they’ve only had scavenging raptors in mind, and haven’t thought of comparing azhdarchids with marabou storks or scavenging corvids. In contrast to scavenging raptors, corvids and marabous, the azhdarchid rostrum does not appear to have been well braced around its openings (this is the naris in the birds, but the nasoantorbital fenestra in the azhdarchids), nor (with its bony dorsal crest) is the skull well suited for probing into body cavities, nor is the long, stiff neck in agreement with this lifestyle. Finally, while proficient terrestrial abilities were present, it does not seem that azhdarchids were specialized for long-distance soaring flight, as obligate scavengers are. I therefore feel that Hypothesis 1 can be rejected. In fact, even facultative scavenging like that present in marabous seems unlikely for azhdarchids, as (unlike marabous) their bills were weakly braced around the bony openings.

There are no cranial specializations consistent with Hypothesis 2 (mud-probing). Azhdarchid bill tips most certainly lack the sensory pits that house Herbst corpuscles in birds, though whether these would be present in a mud-probing pterosaur anyway is a good question. Regardless, the long, stiff azhdarchid neck doesn't match what is predicted for mud-probers either, and this hypothesis must also be rejected. Hypothesis 3 (spear-fishing) can also be rejected given that it is hard to imagine how the long, stiff neck could permit rapid lunging, stabbing and/or grabbing, plus the bill tip morphology is not spear-like as it is in the birds that practice this lifestyle.

We next come to the most popular Hypothesis: number 3, the skimming one. Despite its popularity I have to say that this is weak and not supported by the morphological evidence. While azhdarchids may well have been skilled at fast, level flight (as is Rynchops), this lifestyle does not explain the probably proficient terrestrial abilities present in azhdarchids. More importantly, there is nothing in the azhdarchid skull showing that it was streamlined and laterally compressed as required for this hypothesis, nor is there any indication that the jaw joint or back of the skull was built to withstand jarring impacts, nor that the upper jaw could be elevated relative to water level, nor that the jaws were capable of rapid closure, as is the case in Rynchops (Tomkins 1951, Bock 1960, 1964, Zusi 1962). The predictions are not fulfilled, so the skimming hypothesis is rejected.

Or, at least, the hypothesis that azhdarchids were obligate skimmers is rejected. Tomkins (1963) wrote of his surprise on learning that Royal terns Thalasseus maximus and Caspian terns Hydroprogne caspia are both capable of skimming behaviour, even though they lack the many unusual features present in Rynchops. Might azhdarchids, also, have been facultative skimmers? I would say that we can’t rule it out, but (1) there’s no evidence in its support and it’s therefore nothing more than a speculation, and (2) it’s still less well supported than other hypotheses.

We can also reject the rather similar Hypothesis 5: that azhdarchids were albatross-like surface gleaners, picking up prey from the water surface. The birds that do this are specialized for gliding and lack proficient terrestrial abilities, they have to have a flexible neck as they need to reach down and behind themselves as they pick up prey from the water surface, and they all have down-curved bill tips, presumably to aid in grabbing prey.

Finally, there’s Hypothesis 6: that azhdarchids were stork-like generalists, picking up assorted invertebrate and vertebrate prey from shallow water and/or terrestrial environments. So far as I can tell, this is the only hypothesis where all of the predictions are met. Azhdarchids have the proficient terrestrial abilities required for a stork-like lifestyle, and lack features indicating a dedicated aerial lifestyle. Their jaws are elongate but lack the specializations present in skimmers, mud-probers or surface gleaners, and their long, straight neck vertebrae indicate that they could only raise and lower the neck vertically. That’s ok for picking up animals from the ground and/or the water, but not much else. I therefore find Hypothesis 6 to be the only one that matches the evidence.

Conclusions

So having completed this little exercise I still regard the skimming hypothesis as poorly founded and problematic, and I remain very much in favour of the stork hypothesis. It should be noted that azhdarchids lack the specializations seen in some stork taxa. Mycteria (wood storks), for example, has a gently down-curved bill, a particularly dense array of Herbst corpuscles, and muscles that allow the jaws to be closed within 25 milliseconds (one of the fastest reflexes among vertebrates). These features are used by the birds as they search - using touch alone - for submerged prey (Hancock 1985). Anastomus, the Open-billed stork, has scopate tomial edges (meaning that it possesses tiny brush-like structures along the margins of its bill) and upper and lower jaws that bow away from each other, meaning that their edges never meet. These are apparently specializations that assist in the holding of hard-shelled prey (Gosner 1993). Rather, azhdarchids seem most like the most generalized storks, such as the Ciconia species. These eat everything from large insects, to frogs, fish, small crocodilians and mammals, and they patrol marshy areas and flooded meadows as well as dry grasslands for such prey. In fact they can make a living just about everywhere, and if you wanted to you could draw another parallel with azhdarchids here.

More research on this area is needed, but having said that I realize I’ve pretty much just written the better part of a paper on the subject. At some stage I’ll re-vamp it for publication… perhaps with Mark as co-author. And on that note, the illustration above is Mark’s, and I use it here with permission. It can be seen in its original context here.

Yes yes, phd thesis, blah blah blah. It will be done by the end of this month, honest. For the latest news on Tetrapod Zoology do go here.

Refs - -

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