ABALONE

Natural predators, poachers and pollution have combined to make the abalone’s Pacific Ocean home decidely inhospitable. The future for this prized shellfish now lies within a series of bubbling, seawater-wfilled tanks atop a rocky Morro Bay bluff. There, the abalone fights to stay off the endangered species list.

In a stunt worth the attention of Sea World, Frank Oakes breaks off a thick strand of kelp and holds it just above the water line of a rectangular cement tank.

Within a moment, a saucer-size, red abalone breaks from underneath the surface, slowly rears out of its shell and envelops the yellow stalk.

“That is the feeding pose of the hungry abalone. I’ve even seen them wrestle for a kelp branch,” Oakes says, as the marine snail methodically begins to strip and devour the rubbery sea plant with both the speed and determination of a glacier.

This vignette of aquatic magic indicates the unique nature of Abalone Farm Inc., where 750,000 of these home-grown mollusks have been spared the stress and rigors of ocean living. Instead, the animals lead a life of comparative luxury while never having to fret over shell-cracking sea otters or long-armed scuba divers.

Located on a rocky bluff overlooking the soft blue of Morro Bay, 74 seawater-filled tanks sit oozing with this odd shellfish. Such an abundance of prized culinary wealth provides a marked contrast to the conditions just a few hundred feet away.

Below this scenic cliff in the breaking surf, the abalone, a former mainstay of the California coast, is fighting a losing battle to stay off the endangered species list. A last stand, of sorts, is being waged against the combined onslaught of natural predators, poachers and pollution.

Thus, the brimming tanks at the Abalone Farm loom as the future for this unique animal, a once plentiful food source whose ocean habitat has become decidedly inhospitable.

In fact, as recently as the 1960s commercial diving operations were landing several million pounds of the animal annually. Now, the catch is little more than a trickle.

The two-decade-long shortage has meant that retail prices hover around $30 a pound for the distinctive, firm meat. In this climate, poachers, both divers and tide-pickers, have become common in an active black market.

“I know a number of restaurants right now where if you knock on the back door with live abalone then they’ll buy it right on the spot--no questions asked,” Oakes said.

As a result of the wild abalone’s precarious state, the activities of Oakes and his seven colleagues here become more than just a commercial venture. The work under way on about three acres of sagebrush-covered coastal hills may someday reverse the fortunes of this native California species.

The initial research that spawned the Abalone Farm began 18 years ago. Since then, ownership has changed hands and laboratory tests have borne a $2-million operation which is the world’s only land-based abalone aquaculture venture. The designation is used to differentiate the farm from its five competitors in the United States and Canada, who, during the later stages of their production cycle, return the abalone to the ocean for further growth.

The firm is now on its sixth generation of farm-raised shellfish, and it is these larger animals who twice annually produce the larvae which then enter a three-tiered growth system.

Once spawned and fertilized, these microscopic forms are held in tanks of seawater and fed a special type of single-cell algae for 60 days.

When the slightest indications of the oval, spiral-shaped shell begin to appear, the animals are moved to intermediate holding tanks for an additional six months, and the diet is upgraded to a more complex and substantial algae.

This formative period is the most crucial for the tiny, ocean-based abalone. While just struggling tidbits, the animals are extremely vulnerable to a host of fish and crabs, and as a result a mere one in a million survive at sea. Using methods developed at the site and background research compiled by UC Santa Barbara, the Abalone Farm claims between 90% and 95% of all larvae spawned here reach adult size.

The transfer to the extensive collection of outdoor tanks along the bluff occurs when the abalone reach the size of small coins. There the mollusks remain until ready for market, which is normally in about 18 months.

While explaining the system to visitors, one of the firm’s founders, Tom Edell, put things in simple terms.

“This is a feed-lot situation where these animals are treated like cattle. The only difference is that they sit on walls while they get fat and sassy,” he said.

Continuing with the analogy, Edell said that the abalone need a certain amount of space in order to successfully graze and that it is vital that just the right number be placed in each tank.

In fact, some of the company’s competitors have reported problems involving both the condition of the animals and growth rates. This type of poor performance is attributed to overcrowding, Oakes claims.

Keeping abalone happy and plump involves more than just the correct amount of living space. These sea snails require food at regular intervals and in great quantities. The company uses about 7,000 pounds of locally collected kelp every three days. Each tank receives what appears to be enough of the seaweed to satiate several head of cattle.

“They’re voracious eaters,” Oakes said. “We don’t remove kelp (from the tanks), we just put it in.”

The abalone are considered ready for market when they reach about three inches in length. At this size, careful processing yields a one-ounce steak. Although the portion is petite, the product is exquisite.

The farm-grown abalones have an irresistible rich, sweet, nutlike flavor and require only a minimal amount of the mallet-style tenderizing so common with the ocean version. The meat is also an attractive alabaster color with both beige and pink tones making it an inviting target for the sushi trade.

Initially, the small, one-ounce size presented the Abalone Farm with a marketing challenge, especially to longtime Californians who were served abalone steaks the size of dinner plates years ago.

The solution was to label the product as medallions, hearts or tulips and encourage restaurateurs to serve one or two as an appetizer or several as an entree. The device has worked well enough that the company has trouble meeting demand from the two dozen restaurants which are its primary customers, including the New Discovery restaurant in Topanga Canyon and The Ritz in Newport Beach.

At present, the operation harvests 2,500 abalones a week, a rate that translates into 10,000 pounds of meat annually and corresponding sales of $315,000. The farm’s current output constitutes 5% of the state’s total processed abalone and plans are under way to significantly increase the percentage.

“With five more acres of land we’ll expand our production to 250,000 pounds of meat a year or a total of 4 million abalone,” Oakes said.

Expansion will be approached cautiously because the Abalone Farm has had its share of ambitious projects go bust.

“There’s lots of evidence of trial and error around here . . . such as the oceanarium,” Oakes said, while gesturing toward a substantial compartmentalized tank that the firm had hoped to turn into an underwater factory, where clams, salmon and abalone would be grown.

“The design was too general for any of those species. When you develop an aquaculture venture you must grow the production system around the food and not vice versa,” he said.

The company hopes to salvage the oceanarium by turning it into a warehouse for live seafood, which would guarantee customers premium, live fish throughout the year.

In the meantime, the focus remains on abalone, and the firm hopes to eventually offer three different sizes of the shellfish to fit various types of preparations, Edell said, while savoring a thinly sliced strip of raw abalone, adorned only with lemon juice.

Contemplating his prized product, which commands more than $30 a pound, he said, “The word abalone brings with it a certain distinctive flavor; a flavor all its own. There’s nothing like it.”