It's cement shoes for the Redbirds, New York's
oldest operating subway cars. The scarlet trains are being replaced with
a new design after four decades in service, and New York City Transit
wants them buried at sea as "artificial reefs." Resting on the
ocean floor, 2 to 16 miles off the coasts of Long Island and New Jersey,
the cars would lure colonies of mussels, barnacles, and snails as well
as the bottom-dwelling fish that eat them, according to New Jersey Department
of Environmental Protection biologist William Figley.
New York City Transit casts it as a win-win proposal,
a way to shelter wayward flounder while saving $11 million to $13 million
at the scrap yard. If the plan is approved, 1,300 cars will soon be shorn
of trucks, doors, seats, motors, and ads for Dr. Zizmor's acne-scar
treatment and left some 60 to 125 feet below sea level.
The journey from underground to underwater follows
a well-worn track into the mid-Atlantic. Anglers and divers have long
cherished shipwrecks and cargo spills as fish magnets. Artificial reef
programs that reproduce the effect began in 1962--the same year that
the first Redbirds arrived from the St. Louis Car Company by barge, drawing
fireboat escorts and ceremonial honking from a docked Queen Elizabeth.
Random relics--sawed-up roadbed from Philadelphia's
Benjamin Franklin Bridge and 550 U.S. Army tanks, among others--dot
the seabed as reefs. After reading about the tank program, subway officials
thought of the moribund Redbirds, says New York City Transit spokesman
Al O'Leary. "After 40 years of service carrying hundreds of
millions or even billions of passengers, these cars will help the environment
by creating fish habitats," he says. "We think that's great."
But some observers are scrutinizing what has become
an increasingly varied diet of reef material. "It's a slippery
slope from building reefs to what is just convenient dumping of unwanted
objects," says Stan Gorski, a biologist with the National Marine
Fisheries Service. "Once we have subway cars, are auto bodies next?"
Critics also wonder whether the reefs increase fish
populations or simply attract marine life from elsewhere--an ichthyological
variant of the induced versus diverted traffic debates of highway planners.
Dery Bennett, executive director of the American Littoral Society, a coastal
conservation group, asks: "Are we managing fisheries or just making
fish easier to catch? The jury's out on this."
Weekend anglers and scuba divers are big boosters
of the program, and a group of party boat captains in New Jersey has even
formed an Artificial Reef Association to sponsor future sinkings. Commercial
boats are banned from trawling over the reefs, however, and the issue
is divisive. "The program reallocates the fish to a different user
group. That's the standpoint of a commercial fisherman," argues
Jim Lovgren, who sails out of Point Pleasant, New Jersey, and is on the
board of the Garden State Seafood Association.
Beyond the territorial spats is a philosophical question:
Is it necessary to "improve" nature--in this case a consistently
flat, sandy bottom? O'Leary likens before and after photographs of
other fake reefs to the difference between a desert and tropical splendor.
"It was like Bermuda down there," he reports. Nils Stolpe, also
with the Garden State Seafood Association, wonders whether "Redbird
caves" in protected forests would be as well received by the public.
The reef zones are all within an easy day's sail
of major recreational boat docks, says New York State Department of Environmental
Conservation biologist Steve Heins, a supporter of the subway proposal.
He concludes that the program is as much about fish habitat as human access
and that the final ecological impact is neutral: "There is no evidence
to show the reefs either expand or damage the fisheries. About all we
can demonstrate is that the reefs help people to catch fish."