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Fun with PVC - Plumbing Marine Aquaria Now and Then

1919 View of the Service Gallery at The New York Aquarium Showing Wooden Reserve Tanks (left) Plumbed to Recently Enlarged Exhibition Tanks (from Guide to the New York Aquarium)

I am in the process of upgrading the return pump configuration on my 135-gallon Indo-Pacific reef tank, as well as planning the circulation configuration on a 30-gallon, soon-to-be mimic tank. All this has me rather focused on one of my favorite pastimes—a little activity I call “fun with PVC.” I actually really enjoy plumbing marine tanks given the requisite combination of creativity and pragmatic engineering it requires. Unfortunately I have an abundance of the former, and I struggle mightily with latter…alas), and these current projects have been no exception. Given that the smell of PVC primer and PVC cement have filled my days, I was particularly intrigued to come across a nice piece of aquarium plumbing history while reading before bed last night.

In 1919, the New York Aquarium, located in Battery Park, claimed to be the largest public aquarium in the world. There, at “the foot of Broadway,” the visitor could explore seven floor tanks, ninety-four wall tanks and thirty additional “smaller tanks.” A circular building, the New York Aquarium’s largest aquarium was a circular seven foot deep pool with a diameter of thirty-seven feet. As you might imagine, plumbing this facility was no easy feat in the second decade of the twentieth century. How did they do it? The Guide to the New York Aquarium (1919) by Charles Townsend explains:

An air compressor furnishes aeration to all tanks when necessary…. [T]he pumps circulate about 300,000 gallons of salt water daily. The pumps run continuously. Brackish water for the large floor pools is pumped from the bay through a well under the building, being filtered before it is used. The salt-water wall-tanks are supplied from a reservoir adjacent to the building, holding 100,000 gallons of pure, stored sea water. This water, originally brought from the sea by a tank steamer, is used as a “closed circulation,” and has been used without change, except for small additions, since 1907. The water is pumped through the exhibition tanks, falling thence through sand filters, back to the reservoir. The supply pipes to all tanks are vulcanized rubber. The drainage pipes from the salt-water tanks to the reservoir are iron pipes, lead lined.

How was all of this funded? According to New York Aquarium records, the annual maintenance fund was set at a minimum of minimum $45,000. This sum was provided by the City, while all of the exhibits were supplied by the New York Zoological Society, which was under the Department of Parks of the City of New York.

I must admit, this makes my little plumbing project seem like a stroll in the park.

Dog Days, Bob Fenner, Yellow Tangs, and Dreams Into Action

Well it’s August, and dog days abound, especially in the marine aquarium industry. While I have been less than active here at Microcosm this month, I have, however, been quite busy elsewhere. With my book entering production (less work for me!), I have turned my attention to other projects. Perhaps the most exciting honor I have had as of late was interviewing the legendary Bob Fenner about the new edition of The Conscientious Marine Aquarist. If you have not received your copy yet, you should go get it now; it is awesome! By the way, did you know why a flame angelfish (Centropyge loriculus) was on the front cover of the first edition instead of the clown trigger (Balistoides conspicillum) James Lawrence of Microcosm had selected? Cool story, but I shamelessly direct you to my interview (which Blue Zoo Aquatics was kind enough to publish as part of their education resources section of their website) instead of relating it here.

In addition to interviewing Bob, I have been writing quite a bit about tangs as of late. These fishes, which are so common and rightfully beloved in our hobby, are truly amazing, and I think sometimes we may overlook them (especially the common ones), as we set our sites on the more exotic fishes. For example, have you really taken a look at a yellow tang (Zebrasoma flavescens), recently? Like what about that acanthus—the thorny, switchblade-like spine astride the caudal peduncle (the family name comes from the Greek and translates as “thorntail”)? How cool is that as an evolutionary adaptation (as I write this, my yellow tang is posturing with his acanthus trying to get my scribbled rabbit's, Siganus doliatus, attention)? Did you know that yellow tangs possess a venom gland when young, which provides them with even more protection? Or did you know that the characteristic that makes them so popular in the aquarium hobby—their bright yellow coloration—is also the characteristic that makes them ideally suited for reef life and predator evasion? That’s right, at the depths where most yellow tangs are found, the color yellow is nearly indistinguishable against the backdrop of the reef.

And my newest big project? I have recently “fallen into” an opportunity that should make a longtime dream of mine a reality. Given my background in both education and the aquarium hobby, I have long wanted to write a book about using marine aquaria in the classroom. A good friend of mine, who is also the science department chair of a secondary school near where I live, has secured funding (a long story in and of itself) to ramp-up the School’s usage of marine aquaria in the classroom, and he’s invited me to be a partner in that endeavor. Over the coming months, I look forward to sharing that project with you here as we set-up the tanks and develop the curriculum.

So…while I have been somewhat remiss in my August blog postings here at Microcosm Aquarium Explorer, I have indeed been busy. With August drawing to a close, however, I trust you will indulge me as I share more about these projects and others here at the crossroads where science, ecology and hobby meet.

The Value We Place on Animals

We all have pet-peeves, right? One of mine is when people treat more expensive livestock with more care than they treat less expensive livestock.

I mean, I get it when you take better care of a first edition of the 1855 printing of Philip Henry Gosse’s A Handbook to the Marine Aquarium than a soft cover copy of The Conscientious Marine Aquarist (no offense, Mr. Fenner), but what about when it comes down to a $149 fish and a $1.49 snail? Granted the oblique-lined dottyback (Cypho purpurascens) may be more aesthetically alluring to many than a plain old turbo snail (Turbo fluctuosa), but both are amazing animals in their own right, are they not? And when it comes right down to which one provides a more useful function in the aquarium, ounce-for-ounce most aquarist would take the turbo snail over the oblique-lined any day.

I suppose you could make an argument based on sentience—the ability to feel or perceive subjectively—and argue that a snail doesn’t care as much as a fish when subjected to inhumane treatment, but do we really know that? And even if you think that’s true, have Dr. Ronald Shimek give you a lesson in the complexity of a snail’s circulatory system some day. I think you’ll agree that even the diminutive nerite snail (Nerite spp.) is nothing at which to scoff.

So why doesn’t the average hobbyist inquire about the husbandry requirements of each invertebrate included as part of a pre-packaged clean-up crew? Why do aquarists—even experienced ones—consistently place temperate or subtropical snails into tropical reef tanks? Why do I hear about people going to lengths to slowly drip acclimate expensive fishes when they simply dump new snails into their tank without a thought?

Even as a bibliophile, I don’t really care how well you take care of your books, but, as a fellow marine aquarist, I would like to encourage you to treat all of the animals in your aquarium with the same level of respect regardless of their dollar value.

I once did as Svein Fossa suggests and kept a live rock aquarium. That’s right—a marine aquarium with nothing added except substrate and a few pieces of quality live rock. I’ve seen some amazing tanks (and even kept a few) full of stunning and expensive animals, but I swear I was never as intrigued by an aquarium day-in and day-out as I was with that live rock tank. Every day, it seemed, something new emerged from the rock, and, over the course of several months, the tapestry of interconnected life that materialized was truly as awe-inspiring as my friend’s tank with a pair of resplendent angelfish (Centropyge resplendens)…

…okay…the resplendents were pretty cool too, actually, but you get my point.