Moi Farm Hooks Fishermen

In the quiet world beneath the swells of the Pacific Ocean, scuba diver John “Randy” Cates tends his swirling, silvery livestock on a new kind of Hawaiian ranch.

He and his crew are raising 100,000 fish in a spacious cage anchored to the ocean floor, two miles offshore from Honolulu International Airport. Invisible from the surface, the fish corral represents a new frontier for the United States: farming the open ocean.

“This is the first commercial lease for offshore marine aquaculture in the country,” said Jim McVey, aquaculture program director for the National Sea Grant College Program in Silver Spring, Md. “The potential is huge.”

Cates and his divers visit their 28-acre patch of ocean every day, hauling tons of pellets along to feed their moi, or Pacific threadfin. As their work boat bobs on the water, they must hook onto the cage more than 40 feet below the surface. They pump food through a tube, check cage moorings and scrub off algae. When they need to enter the cage, the divers unzip an opening in its side, sending glittering fish scattering in a synchronized ballet.

Despite the logistical challenges, there are advantages to being offshore and underwater. Hawaii’s shoreline is in high demand, but two miles out there’s plenty of room. Because the cage is submerged, it stays out of the storm zone, poses no hazard to navigation and is not an eyesore--important in a state that prides itself on its natural beauty.

The fish seem to thrive offshore too. “We have a less than 1% mortality rate,” Cates said. “That’s a sign that being out here is the right place to be.”

Until now, the use of fish cages in the U.S. has been largely limited to salmon in near-shore waters, a practice that has raised environmental concerns. Offshore, however, fish wastes are quickly diluted, and disease is less likely to spread than in more sheltered areas.

“Three trillion gallons of water a day flush through our site,” said Virginia Enos, Cates’ business partner.

Tender, white-fleshed moi was a favorite of Hawaiian royalty back in the days when coastal fishponds were fashioned from lava rock to provide food for Hawaii’s people. Today, wild stocks of this native fish and some other species are depleted, and Hawaii imports 70% of the seafood it consumes. Cates International Inc. plans to market the moi (pronounced moy) to high-end restaurants here and on the mainland.

“If you’re a fisherman, you quickly realize that the supply of wild fish is not going to last forever,” said Cates, a commercial diver and fisherman. “We have to farm the ocean.”

The company buys baby moi, or fingerlings, from hatcheries and sends them down a 4-inch-wide tube into a nursery net within the larger cage. As they grow, the fish are given more room to roam in the cage. In six months, the moi weigh close to 1 pound each and are fit for a dinner plate.

Harvest time is like a roundup. Divers swim into the cage and manipulate fence nets to corral the fish into smaller and smaller areas, where they can be vacuumed up through the tube, alive and wriggling. The operation must be handled meticulously.

“You can’t squash the fish on the way up the tube, because nobody’s going to want them,” said Enos. “You can’t spook them so much that they freak out and die.”

Working underwater, confined in netting inside the cage, is dangerous for the scuba divers, who must budget their time carefully. “If you run out of air,” Cates points out, “you can’t go straight up.”

Cates International began stocking the cage in July. It plans its first harvest in January.

Cates launched his business after taking part in an experiment sponsored by the University of Hawaii and Oceanic Institute that successfully raised moi in a submerged, offshore cage here in 1999. Offshore fish cages are common in countries from Norway to Australia, but they float on the surface for easy access. Hawaii’s was the first to be completely submerged.

The experimental project showed no measurable changes to the ocean environment, but the commercial venture involves more fish, so it is being carefully monitored. The cage, stretching 65 feet from top to bottom and 80 feet wide, has 50 feet of clearance between it and the ocean floor.

Cates International is headquartered in a loft-like room on the second floor of Enos’ home, just minutes from picturesque Lanikai Beach in Kailua. A former ship’s officer on large oil tankers, Enos handles administration of the company. Cates, who gets fidgety if he’s indoors too long, oversees everything involving the fish. His dive team works under contract.

The biggest hurdle now facing their company is securing an adequate supply of fingerlings.

“We’re ready to accept 150,000 fingerlings every two months, but there’s no facility ready to provide them,” Enos said.

Aquaculture has been growing steadily in Hawaii over the last decade, from $6.9 million in value in 1991 to $22.2 million last year, according to the state Department of Agriculture’s Aquaculture Development Program. Offshore fish farming could boost those figures substantially.

“What cage culture allows is large volumes of fish that can access major markets on the West Coast and Japan,” said John Corbin, manager of the aquaculture program. “It’s a totally different level.”

Under its 15-year lease with the state, Cates International can install four cages. At full capacity, the company could harvest from 1.2 million to 2 million pounds of fish per year, Enos said. She expects to see a profit from the first cage within a year. The company buys fingerlings for about 38 cents apiece; moi retails for roughly $8 a pound in Hawaii.

Hawaii’s initial success with its submerged fish cage has inspired similar offshore ventures in New Hampshire, Texas and Puerto Rico, although those efforts are just getting underway, according to McVey. Others also have expressed interest in leasing offshore Hawaiian waters for fish cages, including two foreign firms, Corbin said.

“They’re going to be lining up,” Enos predicted, “as soon as we make a buck.”