Seaweed helps Maine lobstermen ride the storm of climate change
FALMOUTH, MAINE
It’s harvest time on Casco Bay.
Briana Warner is dressed for this late spring morning in padded rubber overalls, raincoat, rubber boots and neon yellow gloves that come up above her elbows. Just off the coast of Falmouth, she hangs off the side of a Zodiac boat and uses a gaff (hook) to hoist from the water a neon green buoy attached to a thick white rope. Warner struggles and finally gets her hands around the rope. The line drips with long, shimmering, translucent ribbons of green sugar kelp.
Warner’s face lights up as she inspects the seaweed. “They’re ready for harvest,” she declares.
As the CEO and president of Atlantic Sea
Farms, the 38-year-old Warner is using seaweed to quietly revolutionize Maine’s struggling fishing industry.
Up and down the Maine coast, thousands of lines like this have been planted by fishermen growing seaweed in partnership with her company. In the fall, the fishermen plant tiny kelp seeds on the 1,000-foot-long ropes, and by late spring, attached to each one is close to 6,000 pounds of fresh sugar kelp. The seaweed is harvested, flash frozen and used to make kelp cubes for smoothies, as well as seaweed salad, seaweed kraut and more.
Seaweed is Maine’s new cash crop.
For generations, coastal Maine has been supported by a different underwater resource: the lobster. Lobstering is woven into virtually every aspect of life in coastal communities; tax revenue, jobs, and the state’s identity all depend on it. But as climate change causes Maine’s coastal waters to warm, underwater life, and the economy built around it, has shifted dramatically.
The Gulf of Maine is warming faster than 96% of the world’s oceans – increasing at a rate of 0.09 degrees per year. These warming temperatures have forced the lobster population to migrate north seeking colder waters, and the impact on Maine fishermen has been profound.
Keith Miller, 67, a second-generation lobsterman, has been lobstering for more than 50 years, fishing in Wheeler’s Bay between Spruce Head and Tenants Harbor. When he saw the dramatic impact
of climate change on his industry he knew he had to plan for the six months of the year – between fall and spring – when he couldn’t fish for lobster. He heard about a program in Rockland, Maine, at the Island Institute (which helps coastal communities thrive) educating lobstermen about aquaculture.
“I could choose between oyster farming, mussel farming or kelp,” says Miller in his thick Maine accent. “Water ’round here is too shallow for mussels, and oysters are a year-round job. I wanted to keep lobstering half the year, so I chose seaweed.”
At the time, Warner was the Island Institute’s first economic development officer. A former Foreign Service diplomat, she says she’s always been interested in “finding solutions rather than being part of the problem.”
After serving in Libya, Guinea and several other countries, she moved to Maine with her husband (who grew up in the state) and started a family. Her goal was to apply her diplomatic skills to making a difference in the state’s coastal and food communities.
“The question we asked was this: In communities where lobster is everything, how do we prepare for the future along the Maine coast and diversify to face climate change?” says Warner. “When you’re self-employed and your entire community is dependent on one industry, and you’re totally at the whim of Mother Nature, overdependence on one monoculture is very scary.”
Miller is one of several dozen lobstermen accepted into the aquaculture program. He describes the last five years he’s spent farming seaweed in the
“offseason” as “lifechanging.”
“My first year kelping I brought in 2,200 pounds,” he says. “But this year my harvest was 170,000 pounds. I keep telling folks, ‘My ship is coming in!’ ”
In summer 2018, Warner was offered the position of CEO at Atlantic
Sea Farms. When she started, two kelp farms were yielding around 30,000 pounds total. The company now works with 27 partner “farmers,” and the 2022 harvest brought in just under 1 million pounds of seaweed.
The company’s products are now sold in more than 2,000 stores across the country, as well as in restaurants and college cafeterias. In 2021 the company was responsible for
85% of the line-produced seaweed in the country.
Another farmer the company works with is Justin Papkee, 31, who fishes near Long Island in Casco Bay. “This country is way behind others in understanding how good kelp is for you and the environment,” Papkee says. “Briana is doing a great job figuring out ways to market it.”
Papkee, who still lobsters year-round and farms kelp a few days a week during the harvest season, says he’s able to maintain his crew of three year-round and bring in extra income. Although he’s hesitant to talk about money, he says this year, after four seasons of kelp farming, he is “in the black.”
Warner calls seaweed “a shock absorber against the volatility of the lobster industry.”
When she talks about seaweed and the industry, her speech gains momentum and her passion is on display. “The best