From Line to Pot
Gary Wikfors wants to bring shellfish farming to the Northeast to clean up coastal waters, boost the local seafood industry, and provide lots of happy hour oysters.
Deep inside the bowels of a federal laboratory in Milford, Connecticut, Gary Wikfors walks by row after row of shallow gray trays. He’s wearing a plaid green t-shirt and jeans, and his snow-white hair stands out in the dark. He plunges his hand into a tray of murky water and digs around. “Ah, here we go,” he says as he plucks out a shiny, bluish-black mussel. It is tightly closed, slightly hairy, and resembles a rock more than a delicacy usually served up with garlic and butter.
Wikfors, 63, has studied bivalve shellfish like clams, mussels, oysters, and scallops for nearly four decades. As the Lab Director and Chief of the Aquaculture Sustainability Branch of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) Fisheries Milford Laboratory, he’s led the charge in promoting shellfish farming in the U.S. as a way to provide locally grown food and clean up the environment at the same time.[1]
The U.S. oyster industry peaked in the 1880s. Oystermen dredged up 160 million pounds of oyster meat per year, more than all other countries combined.[2] Since then, overharvesting, pollution, and disease have decimated native oyster colonies and reduced the total amount of available wild seafood. As other countries like France and Korea faced similar issues in the 20th century, they turned to seafood farming, or aquaculture, to meet their growing populations’ demand for seafood.
The U.S. never really hopped on the aquaculture train. Today, local seafood farming accounts for just 1.5 percent of all shellfish consumed in the country,[3] while 91 percent is imported, mainly from Asia.[4] To Wikfors, this is both a disappointment and an opportunity. “The region from Maine to Virginia is a terrific place for shellfish,” he says. “More local domestic seafood would be a terrific thing for this country.”
As a kid, Wikfors loved to fish, but algae is what got him interested in marine biology. “When I was in sixth grade, there was an article in National Geographic about the invisible world of plankton, and there were photographs of things that were too small to see in the water. From the time I saw that article, I knew I wanted to study that,” he says.
Years later, he took his first class on algae as a senior at the University of Maine. He loved it so much that he decided to pursue a master’s degree in phycology, or the study of algae. In 1976, armed with nothing but a highway map and a hardheaded dream, Gary Wikfors drove from Maine to Connecticut to find a woman named Ravenna Ukeles at the Milford lab who knew more about microscopic algae than anyone else. She agreed to be his master’s thesis advisor.
After he received his M.S. in Biology, he was permanently hired at the Milford lab to study how to grow algae as shellfish feed. Although Wikfors was trained in phycology, he quickly became an expert on shellfish as well, since the mission of the lab was to promote the sustainable expansion of shellfish farming. Thirty-nine years and 122 publications later, you can still find him there today.
In the 1930s, scientists at the Milford lab started experimenting with shellfish farming in order to increase commercial shellfish production. Today, scientists and farmers alike follow the same procedure when they grow shellfish under artificial conditions. They collect shellfish eggs and sperm in separate dishes, mix them together, and wait for the babies to hatch. Before the shellfish develop their two hinged shells, they float around in the water as plankton, eating and excreting as they go. “You feed ’em, change the diapers, feed ’em, change the diapers,” says Wikfors, referring to the process of cleaning the water every few days.
Then the shellfish undergo a metamorphosis, where they change from the planktonic form to a tiny version of what you see on your plate. Farmers put ropes in the water for mussels to attach to. They place oysters and clams in mesh bags or crates. These ropes and containers are then placed in rivers, bays, or open ocean, and the shellfish are allowed to fatten up for two years until they are finally harvested.
From an environmental perspective, clams, oysters, and mussels are the ideal seafood to farm. The ropes they cling to and the mesh bags they snuggle inside don’t do any environmental damage. And they’re filter feeders, so they actually clean the water as they eat.[5] Just one oyster can filter 50 gallons of water a day, removing plankton and organic particles and significantly improving water quality and clarity.[6]
However, thirty years ago, few people recognized the environmental benefits of shellfish farming. At that time, people were busy resisting salmon and shrimp farmers who were polluting waterways and spreading disease.[7] Non-governmental organizations drummed up public outrage against aquaculture to ban its most environmentally damaging practices. Unfortunately, these organizations failed to make a clear distinction between salmon and shellfish aquaculture, despite their completely different environmental effects.[8]
Much to Wikfors’ chagrin, people began to attack shellfish farming after the salmon aquaculture issue was resolved. “We all considered ourselves to be environmentalists working to repair damaged ecosystems,” he says. “To be accused of perpetrating that which we sought to reverse was shocking, and not in a good way.”[9]
To combat these misconceptions, Wikfors decided to use his research to prove that shellfish farming is actually beneficial for the environment. In the past decade, the biggest problem with coastal waters has been an overabundance of nitrogen, which causes algal blooms, low oxygen levels, and fish kills. This excess nitrogen comes from human activities like using fertilizers and burning fossil fuels. Conveniently enough, shellfish feed by filtering nitrogen-rich plankton out of the water and converting the nitrogen into their own protein. When they’re harvested, all of that nitrogen is removed from the water.
Wikfors recognized that cultivating and harvesting shellfish could improve the health of coastal waters. In 2009, he and his team coined the term “nutrient bioextraction” and hosted a three-day international conference in Stamford, Connecticut to advise scientists and entrepreneurs alike about this unique environmental benefit of shellfish aquaculture. It got people talking about raising shellfish for the specific purpose of purifying waterways. Before the conference, a Google search of “nutrient bioextraction” yielded only one result. After six months, there were thousands of hits. After a year, millions.
In 2011, Wikfors was part of a team that convinced the Bronx River Watershed Initiative to install a raft full of ribbed mussels in the Bronx River to test the effectiveness of nutrient bioextraction.[10] The study found that the ribbed mussels were able to efficiently filter the debris in the Bronx River, growing up to 300 pounds at the time of harvest. The scientists concluded that the ribbed mussel’s ability to grow in fouled waters makes it a good candidate for future nutrient bioextraction cleanup projects.[11]
“I think Gary’s very good at being able to recognize opportunities,” said Julie Rose, a NOAA Research Ecologist who also contributed to the Bronx study. “The project really paid off. We got a lot of positive press and three papers out of it.”
Wikfors has also worked very closely with shellfish farmers to prove to local permitting agencies that they can sustainably expand their businesses without damaging the environment. One of these farmers is Karen Rivara, the owner of Aeros Oyster Company and, according to Wikfors, the Queen of Long Island oysters.[12]
In 2007, Rivara wanted to expand her commercial shellfish farm, but the town of Riverhead hesitated to give her a permit unless she could prove that the expansion wouldn’t disrupt the ecological balance between her shellfish and the indigenous algae. She brought Wikfors in to study the effects of scaling up her business, and he found that her farm site could support 16 more oyster nursery systems in addition to the two that were currently present. As a result, Rivara and another farmer obtained permission from the town to double the total number of floating nursery systems at her site.
Wikfors claimed a similar victory for farmers who wanted to expand in the Upper Narragansett Bay in Rhode Island a year ago. These little triumphs are adding up. “I’m optimistic because we’re generating science that shows these environmental benefits. We’re pushing against the negative connotations of aquaculture by ecologically-minded people who have the intuition that this must be bad because there’s human involvement,” says Wikfors.
Winning over academics and regulatory agencies, however, is only half the battle. Acknowledging the fleet of pearly white boats bobbing in the harbor outside the lab, Wikfors says that much of the resistance to shellfish farming actually comes from locals who enjoy boating and jet skiing and don’t want any buoys scattered in front of their waterfront properties. In the past decade, they’ve shown up to town hearings en masse to block attempts to install aquaculture gear in their backyards.
Around 2009, Wikfors started to realize that it would take more than just publishing his scientific research to convince people that the benefits of shellfish farming could outweigh their aesthetic or recreational concerns. “I never, ever, expected to care at all about that in my career, but here we are,” he says with a shrug. “Unexpectedly trying to change public opinion that we think is wrong. We can prove it technically quite easily but going from that proof to changing minds is a whole different thing.”
It wasn’t until 2014 when a prolonged argument with a respected colleague made him concede that he had to market his scientific findings to the public through news reports and other forms of public outreach. “That’s a big change in thinking for me, and I resisted it for a long time,” says Wikfors.
This public outreach happens at many levels, according to Rose, the NOAA Research Ecologist. The lab hosts local events like open houses, makes fact sheets about shellfish aquaculture, and once it even teamed up with the award-winning TV show AquaKids to teach kids about the work the lab does and the ecological benefits of growing shellfish.[13] Unfortunately, the number of full-time lab members has steadily dropped over the years, and the lab constantly struggles to allocate its resources between conducting research and educating the public.
Even in the face of tough opposition, Wikfors believes that he’s making progress. “We see a change in the press, from everything being negative to talking about how good oysters and mussels are for the environment,” he says. And the numbers are undeniable. Oyster farming on the East Coast has doubled in the past six years, and the industry has shown no signs of slowing down.[14]
As we leave the basement and return to Wikfors’ office, which is full of filing cabinets and galoshes and adorned with a hand-painted sign that reads “Crazy Scientists Shuck Hard,” he tells me about his latest project — figuring out how to put mussel farms out in the open ocean, far away from the coastline.
In the office, I meet Darien Mizuta, a young Brazilian postdoctoral research associate whom Wikfors expressly recruited to spearhead this project in 2016. She smiles brightly as she explains that mussels are currently the most in-demand imported shellfish in the U.S. Offshore mussel farms could help the U.S. meet that demand and boost the local economy while avoiding the recreational user conflicts that plague coastal farms.[15]
Mizuta is an oceanographer who is assessing the best potential sites for these farms. According to Wikfors, she has the perfect skill set for the job. “It was unbelievable luck that she sent me one of those shotgun emails that she sent to probably a hundred people,” says Wikfors.
His mention of luck reminds me of something he said earlier when he was talking about finding his mentor, Dr. Ukeles: “I lucked out but I made my luck to some extent.” After 39 years, it seems that Wikfors is very good at recognizing opportunities and finding the people he needs to make them a reality. That’s how he keeps pushing his field forward.
Like everything else he’s set his sights on, his latest goal is lofty but not impossible. “We’re looking for commercial harvest of millions and millions of kilograms and dollars’ worth of blue mussels from offshore New England. You know, good economic activity, environmentally sustainable, domestic seafood,” says Wikfors.
I ask him if he thinks this project can lower the 90% seafood import rate. “If we get a measurable percentage, we’ll be thrilled,” he replies, as matter-of-factly as ever. “It’s a very big pile we’re trying to shovel.”
Sources:
[1] Interview with Gary Wikfors at NOAA Fisheries Milford Laboratory on October 6, 2017.
[2] http://spo.nwr.noaa.gov/mfr584/mfr5841.pdf
[3] http://www.nmfs.noaa.gov/aquaculture/faqs/faq_aq_101.html#1what is
[4] Phone call with Gary Wikfors on September 29, 2017.
[5] http://www.sunset.com/food-wine/flavors-of-the-west/seafood-farmed-or-wild
[6] http://www.industrytap.com/adult-oysters-filter-fifty-gallons-water-per-day/28760
[7]http://ir.library.oregonstate.edu/xmlui/bitstream/handle/1957/56703/183.pdf;sequence=1
[8] Email with Gary Wikfors on October 24, 2017.
[9] Email with Gary Wikfors on October 13, 2017.
[10] Interview with Julie Rose at NOAA Fisheries Milford Laboratory on October 6, 2017.
[11] http://longislandsoundstudy.net/issues-actions/water-quality/nutrient-bioextraction-overview/ribbed-mussel-pilot-study/
[12] Email with Gary Wikfors on October 7, 2017.
[13] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGVMC2slpvQ
[14] http://www.npr.org/sections/thesalt/2016/07/31/488122810/the-oysters-mighty-comeback-is-creating-cleaner-u-s-waterways
[15] Interview with Darien Mizuta at NOAA Fisheries Milford Laboratory on October 6, 2017.
