Sometime after catching a sunfish, grass carp and bass for my fishing merit badge, my mother gave me a framed “Freshwater Fishes Common to Mississippi” poster. Featuring 34 native fish, the poster seemed to be less of a trophy hunter’s bucket list than a curiosity. In particular, the paddlefish with a nostril like a duck-billed platypus appeared as incongruous among the depicted fish as a Martian at a cocktail party. I mentally classified the fish in my weird-but-true file.
The paddlefish is arguably the most unique fish swimming in United States freshwaters. The fish is evolutionarily ancient with cartilage structure like a shark. The fish’s skin is smooth like a catfish. It feeds on zooplankton at the bottom of the river’s trophic levels. The most recognizable feature, of course, is the elongated, paddle-shaped snout called a rostrum. Needless to say, a casual fisherman would be startled to reel a paddlefish into the boat.
In my class on the Mississippi River’s ecology, I have learned how integral the idiosyncratic paddlefish was to restoration of the river system. From Montana to Mississippi, millions of dollars of federal conservation funding have been applied to preserve the species. I appreciate the federal dedication to protecting species. Animal Planet and “Wild Discovery” were my cartoons growing up, after all. Yet the huge expense to protect a single fish seemed excessive even to my environmental leanings. Could one fish possibly be worth all the trouble?
Clearly, paddlefish are in trouble due to human interference. The wide-ranging paddlefish historically traveled the entire breadth of the Mississippi River Basin and throughout the Great Lakes. Now the fish is largely constricted to the Lower Mississippi River system. Often led by the Corps of Engineers, efforts to increase navigational ease in the Mississippi River have altered the paddlefish’s habitat. The dozens of dams on the Upper Mississippi River and Missouri River block key migratory routes. Spawning grounds were destroyed, backwater sanctuaries were polluted and many of the juveniles’ gravel-bed nurseries were ruined by channelization. Like many species, the destructive habitat-alteration narrative is too true.
Haute cuisine presents an unusual additional threat to the paddlefish. The taste buds of the elite directed a culinary cause for population stress on the fish: caviar. After the sturgeon fish population was decimated, paddlefish with their pouches of green-black eggs were substitutes. Capitalism’s all-you-can-eat harvesting methods ensued. Fishing for paddlefish, colloquially called “snagging,” nearly repeated the plight of the sturgeon. With the near demise of and restrictions on harvesting paddlefish, incentives to garnish the party’s hors d’oeuvres menu have inspired poaching. According to St. Louis’ CBS local news, eight of 100 suspects were indicted for “federal crimes involving the illegal trafficking of paddlefish and their eggs for use as caviar” this March.
The threats to paddlefish are severe. The World Wildlife Fund designation for the “spoonbill cat” ranges from vulnerable to critically endangered. The paddlefish’s Asian cousin may be extinct. Once a key fish in the Chinese diet, dams and over-harvesting have wiped out the former world’s largest freshwater fish. According to National Geographic, the Chinese paddlefish, which could grow up to 23 feet long, has not been seen in its home range on the Yangtze River since 2003. Now Chinese conservationists are appealing to the U.S. to allow the Chinese to introduce the Mississippi paddlefish to replace the poetically — and forebodingly — named “Giant Panda of the Rivers.”
Preserving caviar supplies is hardly the reason I find the Mississippi paddlefish intriguing. Last Friday, my class traveled down to Vicksburg to visit the fisheries division Corps of Engineers Environmental Laboratory. A highlight of the tour was the tank of 30 or so jet-black paddlefish juveniles. Scientists were finding amazing insights from the strange fish. In particular, the namesake rostrum presented military possibilities. The lightweight design could increase the dexterity and reduce energy needs for submarines. The rostrum’s sensory electronics, used to detect prey, could refine future underwater tracking technology. By 3D printing the tangled rostrum’s interior, scientists were considering the design as a precursor to combat body armor like Morgan Freeman designing superhero gadgetry in “Batman Begins.” The quirky river-bottom fish could one day protect our Marines on the front lines.
The answer to the early question of “Why bother with endangered species?” does not have to be merely for the sake of duty. We can protect biodiversity for the future scientific insights. Technological advances can be found in nature. Cures to rare diseases may be found way off in the depths of the Amazon Rainforest or close by in our state’s namesake river. We have to protect to one day find out.
Neal McMillin is a senior southern studies major from Madison.
– Neal McMillin
tnmcmill@go.olemiss.edu
