Coal Mines as Fish Farms? That's the Hook in W.Va.

(May 30) -- Turning an abandoned coal mine into a fish farm sounds like the stuff of TV parody: "Extreme Makeover, Geology Edition." But people in West Virginia are betting on the commercial potential of doing just that.

"It's sort of an unrecognized resource," says Joe Hankins, director of the Conservation Fund's Freshwater Institute in Shepherdstown, a leading proponent of the recycled mines concept.

The U.N. Food and Agricultural Organization estimates that 110 million metric tons of fish were consumed worldwide in 2006. A report released in September by the National Academy of Sciences found that deep-sea fisheries can't keep up with escalating demand: Aquaculture now accounts for half the fish people eat, partly owed to the popularity of salmon, a natural source of omega-3 fatty acids that help combat heart disease.

So some see opportunity knocking deep down in the ground. There are reportedly 1,000 shuttered coal mines just within the so-called "Pittsburgh coal basin" that encompasses Pennsylvania and West Virginia. An abandoned mine is, in effect, a gigantic subterranean rain barrel. Why not make productive use of all that trapped water?

"There's no reason from a technical standpoint that millions of pounds of fish couldn't be raised in the state," Hankins says.

Ah -- no technical reason. Although millions of dollars have been invested to that end in West Virginia, so far, this is a fish story about the big payoff that keeps getting away.

A Powerful Lure

In 1994, a study by the Freshwater Institute estimated that coal-to-fisheries conversions could generate 600 jobs for West Virginia -- nothing to sniff at considering West Virginia historically has one of the highest unemployment rates in the country. State officials anticipated having some 20 farms up and running by now.

Instead, after 16 years of hard work and best intentions, only two mines have successfully made the transition to aquaculture, accounting for roughly a dozen full-time jobs.

"To say this has failed is probably premature," says Jeff Silverstein, national program director for aquaculture at the Agricultural Research Service, an appendage of the U.S. Department of Agriculture. "But right now things have not panned out."

The idea is tantalizingly simple, especially considering that the unique qualities of mine water are surprisingly conducive to fish farming.

By law, coal companies must purify any water left behind in mines that might be tainted with residual traces of, say, sulfur or iron. What's more (and this is the case in large swatches of southern West Virginia), limestone in the soil serves as a natural filtering agent. In addition, since these are isolated pockets of water, they're free of pathogens carried by exposed rivers and streams that can prove deadly to fish. Mine-cured water also is shielded from airborne, mercury-laced acid rain -- a byproduct of coal-burning power plants.

Water in West Virginia's mines offers an added benefit because of a unique combination of climate and topography: The temperature holds steady year round at about 56 degrees, brutally cold for swimming, but ideal for breeding trout, salmon or Arctic char.

"It's by far the easiest place I've ever raised fish," says Tom Ort, who has 30 years' experience in the aquaculture business and is general manager of Mountaineer Trout Farm in Josephine, W.Va., which relies entirely on mine-cached water. "In North Carolina I had to deal with low water flow and 72-degree [water] temperatures."

Sounds elementary: Secure clean water source, add fingerlings and fish food, keep stray cats away, watch money roll in. But West Virginians have learned the recipe for success is more complicated.

Testing the Waters

The first wave of West Virginia aquaculture investors didn't pay strict attention to operating margins and had unrealistic visions of windfall profits. "The expectation was that this is a quick-return or high-return kind of business. It isn't," says Freshwater Institute's Hankins.

Coal companies themselves were partners in some of the original startup farms. Their interest has cooled, though. Most now prefer to just lease water rights. Then, shortly after the coal companies bowed out, the recession kicked in, scaring off other potential sources of funding.

As Silverstein of the Agricultural Research Service observes, aquaculture is a relatively young enterprise. Rookie mistakes still get made. One West Virginia company jumped into the fray with a faulty business plan that based fish production projections on measurements of mine-water flow taken in early spring. Then, oops, the dry summer months arrived.

Mines only serve to provide the essential reservoir of water, which has to be pumped or gravity-fed to the actual breeding farm. Design elements are crucial. Some farms utilize circular tanks, others a "raceway" system that resembles a concrete bobsled run. Water can be used once or recirculated multiple times. Experienced breeders like to add liquid oxygen. It acts like Miracle-Gro for fish.

Mountaineer Trout Farm went belly up at first, having constructed a fish farm that courted disaster by using fiberglass tanks that, problematically, weren't made to hold water. Ort subsequently took over as manager and rebuilt the system. Mountaineer Trout Farm will produce 600,000 pounds of fish this year.

Reeling in the Big One

The Mingo County Redevelopment Authority experienced other growing pains. In the early 1990s, it received a $50,000 grant from the state Legislature and $250,000 from the USDA to build a demonstration-project hatchery. That, in turn, inspired private investors to sink nearly $4 million into a companion processing facility and "grow-out farm" to nurse fingerlings to maturity.

Despite those efforts, the hatchery isn't viable yet. The county is considering building a pipeline to transport the mine water several miles. That would allow the hatchery, grow-out farm and processing facility to be housed in the same building. But the pipeline might cost an additional $12 million.

"What the industry folks are telling me is we need to put the assets in one spot," says Mike Whitt, the authority's executive director. "I think we have the opportunity, with the volume of water and acreage we have, to get an international company interested in making a capital investment."

Sound like a pipeline pipe dream? Maybe not. There's another factor working in Mingo County's favor. Clean water is fast becoming a cherished resource, the new oil.

"There's no doubt there will be some additional investment" in West Virginia," Hankins insists.

Meanwhile, aquaculturists continue to exhibit the kind of patience associated with wise fishermen, confident their time will come.

"It's smart to do it," says Ken Semmens, an aquaculture researcher at West Virginia University. "But it's not easy. That's kind of where we're at."