My wife and I were sitting in our living room one evening relaxing - as we often do after a long day - in front of the aquarium. The soft lighting and dancing reflections were soothing to our frayed nerves. As the long algae streamers and anemone tentacles swayed to and fro, the stress of the day began to melt away. My wife commented about how fortunate we were to be able to view a bit of tropical natural beauty in the middle of our living room - not to mention in the middle of wintry Utah. I agreed with her and began musing at how our present aquarium had gradually come to be. Noting all the animals, plants, reef rocks, corals and equipment that made up the system, I realized what we were enjoying at that moment was the product of a lot of fun, hard work, investment, trial and error, reasonable judgment - and luck.
It was interesting to think back and realize how dramatically my fishkeeping experience had evolved in just a few years. It wasn't all that long ago that I was fumbling with bubbling plastic divers, red gravel, plastic plants and goldfish. Then came a bigger tank, tropical fish and real plants - I was hooked.
Within a year, I had three tanks going, each with rather specific environments. One had soft acidic water and lush leafy plants and hosted angelfish. Another had hard alkaline water with a sparsely planted environment for brightly colored African cichlids. The third tank was used as a highly populated community tank. At one point, I was actually planning additional tanks, but the amount of work involved in keeping three tanks running eventually checked this expansion.
The freshwater experience was a very satisfying one. The angelfish were graceful, peaceful and soothing, while the African cichlids provided very interesting behavior and impressive coloration. I probably would have stopped there had it not been for my experience with the coral reefs of Hawaii.
While doing my undergraduate work in biology at the University of Hawaii, I was introduced to the fascinating world of the coral reef. The diversification of life among the fishes, corals, echinoderms and coelenterates impressed me deeply. When I donned a mask and flippers I felt as if I were entering an alien world under the clear turquoise waters. When I had to leave Hawaii for post-graduate study on the East Coast, the memories of many a snorkeling trip stayed with me.
As a scientist, I appreciated the vast buffering capacity of the ocean as well as its complex dynamics. Were it not for these characteristics, our oceans would be fouled and choked with volumes of organic rot. It was this prospect that made me hesitant to progress into keeping marine tanks. Although fairly experienced with the basics of freshwater, I was intimidated by the smaller margin for error inherent to saltwater systems. Eventually, however, after viewing a number of local area reef tanks with their dazzling color and diversity, I decided to give it a try. Reef tanks, after all, offered the appeal of running a quasi-ecosystem in the living room.
I was keenly aware of my ignorance and I set out to learn the theory of marine aquarium keeping. To this end, I read as much as I could about the techniques for setting up and maintaining reef systems. Soon, I felt prepared to construct a small-scale version of Hanauma Bay, Hawaii, right in my Utah living room. Once reality set in, however, I remembered I was keeping an aquarium as a hobby and was not constructing an in-house chemistry lab. My budget and existing equipment were going to limit me to a much more practical setup than the gold-standard aquarium I had read about. In planning my system, the most important concern seemed to be the choice of filtration. After reading several aquarium magazines on the subject, it seemed the only way to successfully maintain a reef tank was to employ a trickle filtration system. The opinions on undergravel filters expressed in the various aquarium literature I read ranged from assertions that they were simply inadequate to claims that undergravel filters in a marine system were disasters waiting to happen. The trouble was, the 55 gallon (208-liter) tank I was going to use for my saltwater setup had a perfectly fine undergravel filter, powerheads and external canister filter. The waste of this equipment, and what I considered an exorbitant price for a trickle filter, led me to set up a more modest system.
At a minimum, I knew I would have to add a protein skimmer, especially if I hoped to keep invertebrates healthy. Adding that piece of equipment to my new tank grew into a story of its own. In reading about foam fractionators, I had come across several illustrations of compactly built, electrically powered, back-of-the-tank models. Showing the illustrations to local vendors was like flashing them drawings of a unicorn. The sleek compact model was not to be found in my area.
The only thing I could find was a tall, acrylic column, designed to run off an external pump at tank level. There was a shorter version available for use in trickle systems, but further searching proved futile. Already committed, I bought the acrylic cylinder, unhappy with both the design and the price (a whopping $179!). Six inches in diameter by 24 inches in height, the column sported obnoxious-looking red intake and outflow valves. Unfortunately, the operating height made concealment difficult. The valves made the unit too large to fit behind the tank as well. As luck would have it, there were no conveniently located wall studs to accommodate mounting a small shelf for the device, nor could I seem to find a potential stand to fit the need. To make matters worse, a cracked seal made the skimmer leak like a sieve on its trial run.
My wife asked me if I really thought it was worth it to set up a reef tank as we sopped up saltwater from the rug. I began looking for the hacksaw. Five minutes later, I was sawing parts off a brand-new $179 hunk of plastic. I suppose that hobbies have a way of driving you to do that sort of thing. In any event, once I'd relieved the column of its bully valves, it looked far less obtrusive. Of course, it was now limited to either functioning submerged or lying in the garbage can.
Using various sizes of tubing and rubber sleeving, I connected the column to a powerhead sitting on top of a riser tube coming from the undergravel filter. I removed the powerhead's venturi inlet and the protein skimmer now had a non-aerated adjustable inflow of water. The column's outflow remained passively opened but adjustments for optimal foaming could be accomplished with regulation of the flows from the air pump and powerhead.
The final result was a 55-gallon reef tank with a dual-powerhead undergravel filter, external canister filter and a functional, unobtrusive, internal protein skimmer. I felt that I had met the needs for chemical, mechanical and biological filtration without compromising financial sensibility or aesthetics.
Stocking the tank with four small damselfish, I began the seemingly endless process of cycling. I had a transient problem with slime algae, which was resolved with improved water conditions. I slowly added invertebrates and managed to nurture a strong growth of Caulerpa prolifera and red algae. I found adding macroalgae nutrients significantly boosted my plant growth, which in turn added to the tank's nitrate buffering capacity. Upon tank maturity, I reached a target population of seven small fish, plus three anemones and a sea apple.
Overall, I am satisfied with my setup, although I would be the first to admit it is not an ideal one. No doubt many marine hobbyists would remain critical of this configuration. Yet, I can make an excellent case for utilizing existing appropriate resources. The argument of deteriorating water flow and function of an undergravel filter is, I believe, at least partially dependent on the amount and quality of maintenance put into the system. And that, of course, is dependent on the hobbyist. Admittedly, there is a fine line in preserving gravel efficiency and balancing optimal flow with minimal disturbance of the flora in the tank.
We live in an era infatuated with high tech, and it only follows that aquarium science would boast its share of glamorous hardware as well. The modern aquarium supplies store has more acrylic on its shelves than gravel. The trouble with this tendency is that the experienced aquarists begin to view these gold standard systems as the norm. This, in turn, confounds the novice and perhaps discourages him or her from the very beginning with the complexity and cost involved.
I wish the aquarium community did more to encourage the novice to jump into the hobby and get started on the exciting adventure of marine aquariums. Maybe too many of us have forgotten how exciting it was to be a neophyte.
In any event, I wanted to share some of my experiences as a novice saltwater hobbyist with you. It has been a lot of fun along the way and I'm pleased with the present, ever evolving result. For those of you who, for whatever reason, are hesitant to take up the marine hobby, my advice is to take the plunge.
