The Northwestern Hawaiian Islands, a string of islands, reefs, and atolls stretch about 1,400 miles northwest of Kauai, covers an area nearly as big as the entire state of California.
Thanks to a mid-June declaration by President George Bush, these islands are now the largest marine reserve on Earth. They join 14 13 other marine sanctuaries in the United States, officially protected from direct threats like fishing (especially if the current handful commercial fishing permits are bought out by conservationists) and poaching (presuming Congress eventually allocates the money to patrol against it).
Whatever the strategic political reasons for the move might have been (and lets just say there are next to no downsides in the declaration for the allies of an administration not noted for its progressive environmental policies, especially as they move into a tough election season), ecologically this declaration is worthy of a champagne toast. Nearly pristine, the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands shelter one of the most biodiverse marine ecosystems in the United States: vast coral reefs, sharks, most of the state's nesting green sea turtles, whales, more than 14 million seabirds, the endangered Hawaiian monk seal, and seven thousand-odd more other species.
Creating such a reserve is a significant act at a moment when the world's oceans are in crisis. About one quarter of the world's fish stocks are either overfished or recovering from overfishing, and about half being harvested at or near sustainable limits, while the human population of the Earth is skyrocketing -- at over six billion now, some projections anticipate more than nine billion people by the 2050s.
According to The WorldWatch Institute, the world's fishers took about 133 million tons of fish and shellfish from the waters of the world in 2002 -- seven times the global harvest in 1950. While the vast bulk of these were wild critters, the percentage of cultivated sea in the harvest is rising swiftly. Aquaculture is now a vital part of the world's fish-for-food supply, up from virtually zero in 1950 to almost forty million tons in 2002, and increasing at a rate of about 10 percent a year. Industrial-strength fishing has cut the oceans' population of large predatory fishes by 90 percent in the same time period, according to a 2003 study published in the journal Nature.
But now the "Blue Revolution" in industrial-strength breeding and cultivation techniques is coming on strong. The Blue Revolution emphasises highly refined fish-farming techniques to increase yields while leaving the wild ocean largely alone. On the face of it, increased aquaculture would take the pressure off wild fish stocks, but it also could profoundly alter ocean ecology. As Paul Greenberg recently wrote in The New York Times Magazine,
The ocean has been the heterogeneous alternative to humankind's homogenizing juggernaut. Wild, complex ecosystems are still the norm rather than the exception in its untamed depths. But can this last? While aquaculturists assure the public that the area required for fish farms is tiny when compared with the vast expanse of the ocean, the farms that dotted the countryside before the agricultural revolutions of the 18th century probably once seemed similarly insignificant. Taking a long-range view, there is little doubt that we are on the verge of a vast new artificial selection that will determine the characteristics of a future marine ecology. As recently as 20 years ago, aquacultured products were niche items — the bright red slab of lox from Norway, the crawdad from Louisiana. Today, dozens of mainstream fish are being domesticated and will soon appear at supermarket counters everywhere. Yellowtail, halibut, red snapper and even Volkswagen-size bluefin tuna are all coming under some kind of human-controlled production. And whereas animals like sheep and cattle were adapted to fit the farm over thousands of years, many of the ocean species under development today could be tamed in as little as a decade.
Advocates say the Blue Revolution is essential if we're going to meet the food needs of the globe's swelling human population and stop decimating wild fish. Critics like Stanford economist Rosamond Naylor contend that such intensive aquaculture creates a net food loss -- that it takes two pounds of wild prey fish to grow one pound of domesticated carnivore fish, leaving little for their wild bretheren. Wildlife advocates also fear that cosseted, gene-modded farmed fish could escape into the open sea and interbreed with wild fish, altering the wild gene pool and possibly weakening the ability of undomesticated fish to thrive in the wild.
And of course, all this is set in the context of other pressures: ongoing marine habitat destruction and pollution, and climate disruption, which has begun to alter marine ecosystems. Global warming is the likely cause of coral bleaching in the Caribbean and other reefs around the globe, for example, as well as marine life depletions elsewhere.
Still, for whatever reason -- from supporting ecological preservation to the desire for credibility on the world stage -- it's getting popular to establish marine reserves (although funding for their preservation and conservation is probably highly varied). In just a couple examples, the UN World Heritage Center is leading effort to create a massive marine reserve spanning the territorial waters of four Latin American nations; and in late March of this year, the Republic of Kiribati in the South Pacific designated a vast expanse of Pacific atolls, coral reefs, and deep ocean as a marine reserve, the world's third largest after Australia's Great Barrier Reef and the Northwestern Hawaiian Islands. Greenpeace's recently-released Roadmap to Recovery maps a compelling vision of a global network of protected areas on the high seas that would help fish species survive and recover.
Those not moved by environmentalism or international face-saving might keep in mind that wild fish are the genetic building blocks of cultivated fish, just as wild seed stocks help to bolster agriculture. We'll need that genetic information to keep farmed fish vital -- and the globe's expanding population fed -- well within the political lifetimes of many of today's world leaders.
It seems inevitable that aquaculture will grow exponentially in coming decades, as demand for food from the sea combined with depleted wild stocks creates ever-more lucrative markets for farmed fish. Expanded marine reserves around the globe could go hand in hand with aquaculture (assuming fish can be farmed safely) -- sheltering wild fish stocks that provide both the feed and the genetic material for farmed cousins, while preserving the conditions that allow the oceans to thrive. This makes marine reserves good economic sense as well as ecologically critical to the human food supply -- and a boon to the food supply of marine critters too. But don't expect that photos of soulful-eyed seals are all that's needed to sell marine reserves in the 21st century. Call it environmental security -- and maybe it will play on all sides of the political spectrum.
Image: The Hawaiian monk seal is one of the most critically endangered marine mammals in the United States. Photo © James Watt, courtesy of NOAA/Dept of Commerce, via The Ocean Conservancy









