Ret Talbot Live

Science to the Rescue? "Shipping Light"

There is a practice on the import and wholesale side of the marine aquarium industry called “shipping light” or “shipping small” which is currently getting some attention. As the name implies, this practice refers to packaging marine animals in a way that lightens the overall box weight to reduce shipping costs. This is accomplished by shipping the animals in significantly less water, which, according to proponents of the practice, is based on hard scientific data. Nonetheless, some in the industry (including many of the other wholesalers with whom I have spoken) have expressed concerns about the well-being of the animals, especially fish, shipped in this manner.

While it may appear crass to discuss the economics of all this, the economics are a reality, especially to wholesalers of marine ornamentals who sometimes feel more like a shipping company than anything else. With escalating air freight costs, reducing the weight of a shipment (either on the import side or when shipping to retailers) can save big bucks and increase profit for the wholesaler, but obviously there is a tipping point in all this. As mortality increases, the value of the package decreases, and so, from a strictly economic standpoint, the wholesaler’s Holy Grail is determining how much water is necessary to keep enough of the animals alive to make a profit.

According to one wholesaler that has been “shipping light” as its default shipping method over the past few months, the technique is based on a comprehensive scientific study coordinated by OSU and the Oregon Sea Grant Program. While my repeated attempts to obtain the study have been unsuccessful as of yet (and the wholesaler couldn’t recall the study’s exact name), it appears there may have been two such studies, and they may well be related. An abstract for a report entitled “Shipping-Related Mortality in Marine Ornamental Fish: Results of a Multi-Year Diagnostic Survey” was published in the program for Marine Ornamentals 2006 (Las Vegas, February 13-16, 2006). In addition, a study called “Modeling of shipping-related stress in marine ornamental fish (R/SAQ-09)" was funded through an Oregon Sea Grant (by way of NOAA) in conjunction with Oregon State University and may be ongoing.

From what little information I have gathered on both of these studies, it appears the stated goal is similar. To wit: “to provide reliable data upon which to improve best management practices related to holding, shipping and receiving procedures.” The value of such a report to the export, import and wholesale side of the industry would be invaluable it seems. As such, it strikes me as odd that no one in the industry appears to have first-hand knowledge of the findings of this report except for the wholesaler in question (and they are cautious about discussing it in too much detail due to “proprietary” concerns).

To be honest, all of this leaves me scratching my head a bit. While I’m trying not to be too naïve, I am truly befuddled. If there is a good scientific study out there that could help the industry ship in a manner that is better for the animals and more cost-effective, shouldn’t it be readily available to the industry? If, on the other hand, the data yields nothing of value, then should it really be the “science” upon which a questionable practice—“shipping light”—is based?

And, of course, economics aside, doesn’t the industry have a moral obligation to the animals in question? I mean we’re not talking about shipping Twinkies, after all.

Mangroves and the Tropical Reef Aquarium

I was talking to another aquarist the other day, and he was baffled by some marine aquarists’ use of mangroves in their tropical saltwater aquaria. I happen to love mangroves. I love them as a saltwater fly fisherman, as a sea kayaker and as an amateur naturalist. And, yes, I love them as a tropical marine aquarist. So, you might imagine, I was curious to understand his beef.

He said that he just didn’t get it. “I mean,” he explained, “I’ve never been diving on a tropical reef and then BANG! run into a mangrove tree. So why would you use them with a reef tank?” His issue seemed to be that reefs and mangroves do not appear adjacent to one another in the wild and, hence, there is no explicit connection between the two. Therefore, ergo, heretofore, he didn’t understand why some people insist on incorporating mangroves into their saltwater set-up. “It’s just pointless,” he concluded.

I beg to differ.

The reason I incorporate mangroves into my tropical reef tanks is because I am fascinated by the intricate interconnectedness of biotopes. A biotope—originating from the Greek and translating roughly as “life place”—is a physical space defined by a (usually) sessile species. The biotope is the biotope species’ life place, and interesting assemblages of other species develop countless relationships with the biotope species. One biotope connects to the next through these relationships and eventually habitats and ecosystems are formed.

Given this definition of biotope, we might refer to a mangrove root biotope defined by a red mangrove (Rhizophora mangle), a seagrass biotope defined by shoal grass (Halodule beaudettei) and a fringing reef back reef slope biotope defined by scroll coral (Turbinara reniformis). In many natural ecosystems, all three of these biotopes may exist within relative close proximity—an easy swim, for example—and all three are very much connected. In the home aquarium, these three biotopes can be represented in three separate tanks that all share the same system water.

By replicating the interconnectedness of these three biotopes in my tropical marine aquarium system, I am afforded an excellent opportunity to study and observe the complex relationships between these biotopes. Am I expecting the mangroves to be the solution to all my nutrient problems? No. Am I expecting my seagrass bed to completely stabilize my daily pH fluctuations? No. Am I expecting to better understand the species I keep and their relationships to one another? Absolutely. And I believe that doing so makes me a better aquarist and someone who is more aware of the importance of all three of these unique biotopes when it comes to conserving tropical reefs.

There is, in my opinion (and based on the data I have collected), a definite system benefit to incorporating mangroves into my aquarium set-up. But the benefits in terms of water quality, system stability and continuous live food production are all secondary to the educational value of being able to study a microcosm of an expansive interconnected wild ecosystem as extraordinary as a tropical reef.

That’s priceless.

Creating Ecosystems

Marine aquarists are pretty familiar with the concept of creating an ecosystem, but for most of the population of Orange County, California, it’s a bit of an alien concept. Nonetheless that’s exactly what a June 23rd article in the Orange County Register claimed that Southern California Edison (yes, the power company) is doing just off the coast of San Clemente (“Edison aids kelp forest growth to offset plant impacts”).

"The goal here has always been not only to grow kelp, but to create an ecosystem," said Patrick Tennant, a Southern California Edison biologist referring to the creation of a $40 million artificial reef project. The reef is “compensation” for anticipated environmental damage resulting from the Edison-operated San Onofre nuclear power plant.

A report in the late 1980s showed that the plant’s discharge was blocking sunlight from approximately 180 acres of natural kelp bed, and that’s when discussions began about mitigating some of the marine damage caused by the plant. The San Onofre nuclear plant has been called "the most destructive marine industrial facility ever built.” In addition to kelp mortality, the plant is also responsible for the death of an estimated 600 tons of fish each year.

In total, the artificial reef will be a 2.5-mile, 150-acre artificial reef made of more than 100,000 tons of stone quarried from nearby Catalina Island. The rock is delivered via barge and bulldozer six days a week from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m., with an anticipated finish date of October 2008. Marine scientists hope to see a healthy kelp forest growing from the reef as soon as next summer.

The concept of paying environmental penance is as foreign to some as the concept of creating an ecosystem is to others. There are those who would be quick to point out that it would be far easier not to destroy the original ecosystem than to create a completely new one. But most Southern Californians view our tremendous thirst for both power (about 1.5 million households get their power from San Onofre) and water as necessary evils, and so environmental mitigation becomes the next best thing.

While the artificial reef is a good starting point applauded by environmentalists and marine scientists alike, some are concerned that it’s not quite enough. Mark Massara, the statewide director of the Sierra Club's coastal programs is one such person. “This reef is really just the tip of the iceberg in terms of trying to restore the marine resources that this plant had destroyed,” Massara said in a recent interview with the San Francisco Chronicle (“Artificial reef to reverse damage by San Onofre Kelp bed designed to rebuild habitat hurt by nuke plant”). “My only regret is that they're not doing a lot more.”

Marine Aquarium Keeping with a Cold Chisel

“A geologist's hammer with a cutting edge, as well as a striking face, is the most useful; and the chisel must not be such as carpenters use, but one made wholly of iron, tipped with steel, such as is used by smiths, and technically called a cold chisel.” — Philip Henry Gosse instructing marine aquarists on collection techniques in his seminal A Handbook to the Marine Aquarium, published in 1855.

As a marine aquarist who lives within walking distance of the Pacific Ocean in Southern California, I spend a lot of time observing nature’s aquaria—our local tidepools.

Aquarists have always been drawn to the intertidal zone. In fact, a complete chapter is dedicated to collection from the intertidal zone in the first ever book written for the marine aquarist in 1855. Of course back then aquarists did not have a local fish store or an online retailer of marine ornamentals from which to buy their livestock, so they simply procured it themselves by chiseling or prying it from the bountiful tidepools that adorned their Victorian shores.

Walking my own local intertidal zone in 2008 with a cold chisel in hand is, most definitely, not in vogue. Using that chisel to extract marine life from the rocky walls of tidepools may, actually, now be illegal, as those tidepools are part of the Laguna Beach State Marine Conservation Area.

The Laguna Beach State Marine Conservation Area is a type C marine protected area (MPA), and, as such, “it is unlawful to injure, damage, take or posses any specified living, geological or cultural marine resources for certain commercial, recreational, or a combination of commercial and recreational purposes.” Collection of organisms is only permitted if you have a Scientific Collecting Permit (SCP) from the California Department of Fish and Game and permission from the MPA manager.

Generally speaking, MPAs are a good thing, as there is little doubt, that our tidepools were being “loved to death” by the groping hands of many well-intentioned (and some not-so-well-intentioned) tidepool visitors. But MPAs also do have their downsides.

Depending on the specific regulations for the area, MPAs can be designated as complete no-take zones which preclude activities such as collecting for aquarium use and fishing. While, on the one hand, this removes a great deal of pressure on the species living within the MPA, it also potentially removes some of the most important and knowledgeable visitors—fishermen and marine ornamental collectors.

While there are exceptions, it is often these visitors who understand the ecosystem best and who have the most vested interest in seeing it managed in a sustainable fashion. In the truest sense of the word, these people are ecologists, and they are on the frontline of conservation, often being the first to raise the alarm when something changes or goes wrong in the ecosystem. In a state where massive budget shortfalls often preclude state-supported scientists from monitoring MPAs, can we really afford to not have these amateur natural scientists present?

When we gather at the Huntington Beach Harbor View Club House for a workshop kicking off the Marine Life Protection Act’s (MLPA) South Coast Study Region this coming July, I will not be advocating that marine collectors with chisels should be permitted in the Laguna Beach State Marine Conservation Area. Times have changed since Philip Henry Gosse enlisted the help of “a man with a crowbar, to turn over the stones, as on their under surface, and beneath their shadow, valuable specimens are often found.”

We have come to appreciate the hard way that our shores are not an unlimited resource, and protection is essential if we are to preserve these areas for their own intrinsic value and for the next generation of admirers...

...even the anglers and aquarists.

Herbivores & Our Aquariums: Knowing What We Think We Know

Pencilstreaked Rabbitfish, Siganus doliatus. Image © Scott Michael.

I’ve been writing a lot about herbivorous aquarium fishes recently. To me, they are emblematic of that which I care about most in this hobby—the intersection of science, conservation and marine aquarium-keeping.

In terms of the aquarist in me, I love herbivorous fishes for their ability to control algae growth and their interesting behaviors, but I am also keenly aware of concerns expressed by conservationists about dwindling wild populations of species like the once ubiquitous yellow tang. I believe a robust marine aquarium industry can and should play a critical role in tropical reef conservation, but like any industry, I believe we must ensure we do so in a sustainable manner, and sustainability brings me to science.

Charting a course for our industry into the future must be based on sustainability insofar as marine researchers define it based on their field work within the reef ecosystems we strive to replicate in our aquaria. Yes, there are other legitimate concerns, such as local economies dependent on the marine trade in developing island nations, but, as aquarists, we must also make an effort to guide our industry based on the available data. The natural byproduct, of course, is that we become better aquarists by better understanding the animals we keep.

Nature's Biocontrols

As it turns out, scientists are interested in herbivorous fishes for much the same reason that aquarists are—as a biological control for marine algae. Neither aquarists nor scientists like to see algae-dominated reefs where corals are choked to death. Increasingly, however, this is what scientists are seeing on the world’s tropical reefs. Finding which fishes are the best grazers on which types of algae may prove critical to helping degraded reefs recover.

It may also prove important to developing better husbandry practices when keeping herbivorous fishes in marine aquaria where most of us commonly assume that an herbivore is an herbivore is an herbivore.

Dr. David Bellwood, a researcher from the Australian Research Council (ARC) Centre of Excellence for Coral Reef Studies,has demonstrated in his research that we don’t really know as much as we think we do about herbivores.

In a recent experiment, Bellwood caged off plots on the Great Barrier Reef in order to prevent any large herbivores from grazing. As expected, dense macroalgae  (e.g. Sargassum spp.) grew.

When Bellwood removed the cages three years later, he watched, expecting the 43 known herbivorous fishes in the area to work their magic. What he saw, however, was a couple of large batfish eating almost all the macroalgae, while the known herbivores essentially ignored it. This shocked Bellwood for a couple of reasons. First, batfishes are relatively rare on the Great Barrier Reef and second, they are considered omnivores with a strong preference for meaty marine flesh.

Batfish Surprises

“Much to my amazement, the batfish appeared to be attracted to the algal stands,” says Bellwood. “It was not at all what I expected, as algal feeding is unusual for this species of batfish. Sessile invertebrates, not Sargassum, normally dominate this fish’s diet.”

Pinnate Batfish, Platax pinnatus, juvenile. © Scott Michael.

Within five days of removing the cages, the batfish had cut the volume of macroalgae in half, and, after eight weeks, they had virtually removed it all. Two months of daily video tape showed eleven species of rabbitfishes (Siganidae), 15 species of parrotfishes (Scaridae), seven species of surgeonfishes (Acanthuridae), and two species of rudderfishes (Kyphosidae) move through the study site, and yet, except for two of the rabbitfish species, none of them fed to any extent on the macroalgae.

What does this mean for my aquarium? Well it doesn’t mean I’m headed out to buy a batfish (although based on some of my discussions with Dr. Bellwood, rabbitfishes are my top aquarium herbivorous fishes), but it does mean that I am thinking about herbivory in a different light. It’s interesting to note that, as aquarists, we already knew much of what Bellwood demonstrated.

For example, how many of us have at some point introduced an animal to take care of an out-of-control algae problem, knowing that once the algae was gone, other animals would have to be employed for future maintenance? While Bellwood’s study may have upset the conventional wisdom within the scientific community, his results were fairly consistent with what we, as aquarists, already knew.

This makes me excited about opening up more avenues for dialog between scientists and aquarists in pursuit of a sustainable hobby, sustainable ecosystems and better husbandry.