Aquaculture wars: The perils and promise of Big Fish
| Belfast, Maine
Elinor Daniels loves the view from her backyard. Patches of stubborn snow dot a field ringed by pine trees. But in the next few years, this quintessential Maine landscape could be replaced by a 54-acre salmon farm.
Ms. Daniels and her wife have spent the past year fighting Nordic Aquafarms, a Norwegian company that aims to site one of the world鈥檚 largest land-based salmon farms in Belfast, Maine. The couple has led dozens of neighbors in a small-town battle that could have international consequences.
In the eyes of proponents, aquaculture, as the farming of fish and other water-based species is known, has a real promise to feed the world鈥檚 growing population amid depleting fisheries. To supporters of the Nordic project, the proposed Belfast farm is a model for what high-tech, environmentally savvy aquafarming can offer. But to Ms. Daniels and many of her neighbors, the kind of scale being proposed 鈥撎�66 million pounds of salmon annually 鈥� reeks of big agriculture and many of the environmental problems that come with it.
Why We Wrote This
Big challenges often require big solutions. But when it comes to food production, bigger isn鈥檛 always better. Can aquaculture be scaled up to feed the world without befouling the environment?
鈥淲e aren鈥檛 saying 鈥榥o鈥� to aquaculture,鈥� says Ms. Daniels, as she eats dinner with her wife, Donna Broderick, at Darby鈥檚 Restaurant in downtown Belfast. 鈥淏ut not at this scale.鈥�
Belfast prides itself on its slow-food, farm-to-table culture. When Ms. Daniels looks around her town, she sees the Penobscot Bay teeming with wildlife; two year-round farmers markets; dozens of small, family-owned organic farms; and a co-op听鈥� Maine鈥檚 largest 鈥� that鈥檚 busy from dawn to dusk.听
At the crux of the yearlong debate in Belfast is a larger question of what the future of United States food production should look like. Both sides see Belfast, a town of , as the best example of what could be.
鈥淧eople say, 鈥榃e want to keep Belfast the way it has always been. We need more small, organic businesses,鈥� 鈥� says Marianne Naess, commercial director of Nordic Aquafarms. 鈥淭o feed the world we have to do things differently.鈥�
A 鈥榣iving laboratory鈥�
Less than 150 years ago, the 鈥溾�� ran from Connecticut to northeastern Canada. In Maine鈥檚 Kennebec River alone, fishermen caught as much as 200,000 Atlantic salmon annually.
Today, fewer than 1,000 wild Atlantic salmon swim in U.S. waters, with all of them living in the Gulf of Maine. U.S. populations were declared in 2000 due in part to overfishing, and populations throughout North America . Similar stories have been playing out around the globe, as fishing pressures, pollution, and warming waters have driven fish populations down.
Despite the global decline in fisheries, demand continues to increase. On average, people today eat as they did in the 1960s. Salmon is particularly attractive because it is one of the most available to humans 鈥� a significant concern in a world where 1 in 9 people goes hungry.
鈥淗ere is an opportunity to produce high-quality protein,鈥� says Deborah Bouchard, director of the University of Maine鈥檚 Aquaculture Research Institute in Orono. 鈥淟and-based aquaculture is a good approach to sustainable agriculture.鈥�
Fish farming is gaining momentum globally. Between 2000 and 2016, aquaculture almost doubled its share of . By 2030, aquaculture is expected to produce .
International companies such as Nordic Aquafarms see opportunity in the United States, which imports and has been slow to develop fish farming. Despite being the third largest market in the world for seafood, the U.S. is 15th in aquaculture production.
Such operations need access to cold waters, and with Washington state 鈥� the country鈥檚 other northernmost coast 鈥� passing legislation to , companies are increasingly looking to Maine. With miles of inlet and bays, Maine has the fourth largest coastline in the country and the necessary mix of freshwater and saltwater. Maine also has an employment base that has worked in fish production for generations (albeit on the high seas) and is easily accessible to the European fish market.
鈥淭his is a really exciting time.... Maine is like a living laboratory,鈥� says Dr. Bouchard. 鈥淲e see the expansion of aquaculture in tons of different directions.鈥�
Mid-coast Maine in particular is becoming the U.S. epicenter for aquaculture, with two of the country鈥檚 three largest land-based salmon farms being developed less than 25 miles apart.
Maine-based startup Whole Oceans is building an slightly smaller farm in Bucksport. As a former paper mill town, residents have largely welcomed the industry. Combined, the Bucksport and Belfast farms aim to produce of the country鈥檚 salmon.
Belfast, which used to be known as , has been on an economic odyssey of its own, ever since the poultry plants left in the 1980s. Nordic says the $500 million project will eventually bring about 100 jobs of various skill levels to Belfast, while supplying 7 percent of the U.S. salmon demand. But locals say the memory of the town鈥檚 agricultural past 鈥� when chicken feathers and chicken guts 鈥� has left them wary of Big Ag.
鈥淚t was a mess of a town,鈥� says Ms. Daniels. 鈥淎nd now we鈥檝e been seeing aquaculture as a magic bullet.鈥�
Trade-offs
When Lawrence Reichard first heard about the salmon farm, he was excited.
鈥淭he idea of having Norwegians coming and floating around town, it sounded kind of fun. It sounded innovative,鈥� says Mr. Reichard, a freelance journalist who lives in Belfast.
鈥淚 went to the first public information meeting. There were things at that meeting that didn't really add up so I started looking into it,鈥� says Mr. Reichard. 鈥淎nd the more I looked into it, the more concerned I got.鈥�
At that in February 2018, residents quickly filled the 200 available seats and crowded the back of the room. The three subsequent informational meetings have drawn similar, if not bigger, crowds.
One of the most controversial topics at these meetings is wastewater. Opponents are concerned about the 7.7 million gallons of discharge that would flow into the Penobscot Bay daily, increasing outflows by . Nordic has yet to receive a discharge permit from the state, an outcome opponents like Ms. Daniels are keen to prevent.
Proponents argue that the potential environmental effects of aquaculture are relatively minor when compared with those of other industries. A paper mill, for instance, would emit as much wastewater. Nordic says its discharge will undergo innovative treatment removing of harmful, algae bloom-causing phosphorous and nitrogen, respectively.
But opponents counter that, even after filtration, discharge could significantly alter the nitrogen levels. One estimate found that the aquafarm would deposit water that is higher in nitrogen than the bay鈥檚 current level.
There鈥檚 also concern about how much water the farm will use. A recirculating aquaculture system, like the one Nordic plans to build in Belfast, requires a lot of clean water. After all, it allows fish to grow on land. Nordic plans to draw more than of clean freshwater from underground aquifers per year to circulate through the farm鈥檚 .
鈥淲e don鈥檛 know how aquifers and watersheds will perform in the future with climate change,鈥� says Mr. Reichard. 鈥淭o use this much water on this scale, we鈥檙e really rolling the dice on Belfast鈥檚 water supply.鈥�
Some locals support small-scale aquaculture, arguing that it has its own place in Belfast鈥檚 food economy.
But a recirculating system requires a big investment, says Ms. Naess, sitting at a long table in Nordic鈥檚 new Belfast office. To make it profitable, it has to be big.
鈥淎ll aquaculture has its challenges,鈥� says Ms. Naess, 鈥渂ut this one is the easiest to scale up around the world.鈥�
Local concerns
On a January Sunday, at least two dozen Mainers in snow boots sit in a circle on fold-out chairs at the Belfast Public Library.
Attendees hail from Belfast and at least four other neighboring towns. Three people are new. State Rep. Janice Dodge holds up poster boards, teaching the attendees how to structure letters and emails to local legislators. Many people around the circle take vigorous notes.
If any good has come from the feud in Belfast, it would be a newfound interest in local government. Three Nordic opposers ran for city council seats in September, including Ms. Daniels, challenging seats that had sat unopposed for years. They have helped draft three bills for Maine鈥檚 House of Representatives to preserve the Penobscot Bay and change the permitting process for land-based aquaculture.
The opposition in Belfast has been bigger than the Nordic team expected, and the company has had to push back its original plans to break ground this spring. The company is hoping to secure the permits and applications to break ground by the end of the summer.听Without any further delays, the plant expects to see its first fish leave the farm in 2022.听But a lawsuit filed in July听by Ms. Daniels and Ms. Broderick could further disrupt those plans. The couple is arguing听that the city failed to follow its own zoning procedures when reclassifying the field behind their house as industrial.
鈥淲hen you have opposers, they are loud,鈥� says Nordic Aquafarms president Erik Heim, who is married to Ms. Naess. 鈥淭here will be some people who will never agree, and we have to accept that.鈥�
But the dozens of Mainers gathered in the library don鈥檛 show any signs of backing down. A man with a long gray ponytail, Ron Huber, tells the group he feels like the little people in the novel 鈥淕ulliver鈥檚 Travels鈥� by Jonathan Swift, who succeed in tying down a 鈥済iant鈥� by covering his body with many small threads.
鈥淵ou think it would be impossible,鈥� says Mr. Huber. 鈥淏ut they just keep throwing those small ropes.鈥�
[Editor's note:听An earlier version of this report mischaracterized the size of the aquafarm being built in Bucksport. It is slightly smaller than the proposed project in Belfast.]
