Immigration Issue

By Marlowe Moore

 

Most likely carted up in the Gulf Stream, the non-native lionfish has made North Carolina waters its new home.  How should we feel about this beautiful invader?

 

One of the thrills of scuba diving is the grail-like possibility of finding something no one has ever seen coasting through the deep.  Imagine, then, floating 40 miles off the Carolina coast in August 2000 when, for the briefest of moments, you glimpse a species of fish that should not be there.

 

So it was for the crew of Atlantis IV, a small private charter boat operation out of Beaufort, NC.  What they found, according to first mate Renate Eichinger, caused a ripple of “disbelief, surprise, and definitely a sense of curiosity about what was going on.”  With an underwater camera, the divers captured the fish on film and Eichinger, along with Captain Bobby Edwards, showed the picture to a scientist at the aquarium at Pine Knoll Shores.  It was true:  the lionfish is here.        

 

Fish of a Feather Flock Together

Typically a tropical fish indigenous to the coral reefs of the South Pacific and Indian Oceans, the lionfish now occupies the majority of the waters off the east coast, and scientists and divers have noticed something of an explosion in their population in the last three or four years.

 

Specifically, the lionfish—named so for its mane of feather-like spines that sway underwater—has multiplied rapidly in popular dive spots from Wilmington and Carolina Beach.  Two years ago, UNCW research divers Jay Sousa and Dave Wells were repairing some moorings with their co-workers Morgan Bailey and Steve Hall when the quartet spotted a lone lionfish camped out in the mooring. “We weren’t prepared to see it, so it was a big deal.  We planned to catch it when our work was done,” says Sousa.

Friendly competition ensued, and the teams determined to catch the specimen as proof the fish existed so close to home.  Technically, Bailey and Hall won, but the foursome triumphed in bringing the first living lionfish into captivity in North Carolina.  This same fish still lives in the display tank at the Center for Marine Science located on Myrtle Grove Road.

 

Since then, according to Sousa, the lionfish population has swelled beyond expectation. “They’re everywhere you turn around out there now,” he says, “and the abundance of them has increased so much in the last three years that divers have to watch what they’re doing.”

 

Watch what they’re doing, of course, because the lionfish is not only a voracious predator of small fish and shrimp, but they’re also venomous. This invasive species packs quite a sting from the three forehead spines barbing its scaly noggin, and its ingenious marine camouflage prevents it from being easily spotted unless it is swimming.  Sousa recounts the story of an exotic fish collector from New Jersey getting tagged in the hand while trying to collect a specimen:  “it caused an excruciating burning sensation in his arm, kind of like a minor snake bite.”  But he maintains that though a sting from the lionfish may be quite painful, “it won’t kill most people, but you should not try to handle them.”

 

The Lionfish Lady

Back in Beaufort, marine scientist Paula Whitfield heads up the lionfish research for the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA).  She acknowledges that the all-you-can-eat buffet the lionfish enjoy in our waters plus the fact that they have no natural predators makes for a potentially alarming situation for North Carolina’s marine ecosystem.  Many local divers have attempted to destroy the fish by stabbing them.  This method, Whitfield explains, is futile because “at this point, it’s impossible to eradicate them.  They’re so widespread, and their free-floating eggs make it so they can easily disperse. Eradication is not a realistic goal for controlling them.”

Whitfield’s research shows that the lionfish is everywhere from Cape Lookout to Cape Fear, mostly in depths of 100-300 feet.  The mystery of the lionfish, Whitfield explains, is not so much how they got here—the Gulf Stream could be responsible for that—but how in the world a tropical fish survives in the comparatively chilly waters of our coast.

Another concern, and perhaps the one that worries divers enough to kill the lionfish, is whether or not this rapidly-multiplying invasive species will wreck the native marine environment. 

 

“The potential threat of the lionfish is that it may consume resources by competing with native species,” she says.  “We need to understand how it’s impacting the system, but the truth is that we just don’t know at this point.” With funding a constant worry, Whitfield knows there are limitations to what she will be able to accomplish with her work. So far, however, there has been little work done to determine what—or if—the lionfish’s introduction into our waters has done to the environment.  “We have not quantified any of the [lionfish’s] impacts yet, but that is the next step,” says Whitfield. In August, Whitfield and her team expect to conduct more experiments on the thermal tolerance of these fish to try to determine where they might migrate to during winter.

 

People, however, should not be concerned about how the lionfish may impact their personal safety in the water.  “Everyone should be aware that the lionfish is out there,” she says, “but certainly not alarmed.”  Because the fish orients to structures such as moorings and shipwrecks, regular surf swimmers should have little reason to suspect a lionfish may lurk nearby. 

 

Perhaps the only segment of our coastal population that may interact with the lionfish would be fishermen, Whitfield states, only because the fish can be caught with a rod and reel.

 

Without saying, the lionfish is a dazzling creature with its enormous flowing plumage.  Carolina Beach resident and rec diver Kevin Lancaster dives with the Hawksbill fort Cape Fear Divers in Carolina Beach.  Usually he goes out to the wrecks where lots of lionfish settle in and create homes for themselves. 

 

“Straight off the beach there’s the Normania, and over near Frying Pan Tower is the City of Houston.  Both wrecks have tons of lionfish—so many that sometimes you can’t turn without seeing one!”    Lancaster, too, has seen the enormous leap in the population over the last few years, and his philosophy sums up the immigration of this beautiful fish:  “They’re here,” he says matter-of-factly, “so you just gotta enjoy it.”

 

Return to the July 2006 Issue of Snow's Cut Monthly