Kelp

June gloom might not be the only thing keeping people away from beaches in the South Bay this weekend. Swarms of black kelp flies — scientifically known as Coelopa frigida — have invaded beaches in Torrance, Redondo Beach, Manhattan Beach and Hermosa Beach, covering trash cans and lifeguard stands and annoying visitors. Though the flies are typically found in Redondo Beach near the rock-laden Topaz Street jetty, lifeguards said, there are definitely more this year.

As reliably as masses of sea bass gather off the Southern California coast each summer, boatloads of anglers arrive to reel them in. But their bountiful catches are an illusion, scientists say. The populations of kelp bass and barred sand bass, two of the most popular — and easy to catch — saltwater fishes in Southern California, have plummeted 90% since 1980, according to a study led by a researcher at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography...

EFFORTS to restore kelp forests off Southern California received a $220,000 boost from a National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration grant last week. The money will help the California Coastkeeper Alliance fund part of a three-year program to recover kelp, a habitat for bocaccio, black sea bass, sea otters and other imperiled wildlife. The group grows kelp and transplants it in the ocean.

The last time I saw the Yukon, a 366-foot-long Canadian navy destroyer, it was docked in San Diego. So many holes had been cut in the sides of this well-worn vessel that it reminded me of a big hunk of Swiss cheese. That was a little more than a decade ago, and volunteer crews were gutting and cleaning the ship, preparing to scuttle it to create an artificial reef in 105 feet of water two miles off Mission Bay. Since then, I've wanted to visit the ship in its sandy resting spot, but the birth of two children and a move to Wisconsin got in the way. Now I was floating on the Humboldt dive boat, listening to captain Ryan Wilbarger as he briefed us about what we would find on the ship.

Surfing's dirty secret is easy to find in the drab enclave of San Clemente known as the surf ghetto, where the ocean breeze is spiked with the sweet smell of chemicals and men wearing flip-flops and coated with white dust search for magic inside blocks of toxic foam. Joey Santley is looking for something equally elusive: an environmentally friendly surfboard. Or at least one with a carbon footprint that's less titanic. "A 'green surfboard' is inherently an oxymoron at this point," said Santley, 44, a frenetic surfboard shaper and entrepreneur.

The giant kelp barely skimmed the centimeter mark. But just give it time. Kelp can grow as much as 2 feet a day, said biologist Nancy Caruso, and its sinuous fronds could eventually top 100 feet. Volunteers with the nonprofit group Orange County Coastkeeper had nurtured the fledgling algae for four months atop unglazed ceramic tiles the size of dominos as part of an effort to reintroduce seaweed forests off Newport Beach and Laguna Beach.

Beset by factions warring over kelp and wetlands, the California Coastal Commission this week postponed a final decision whether to relax requirements intended to offset damage to the marine environment near the San Onofre nuclear power plant.

Scott Raiche's marine diving students enviously ask him what it was like to dive in the kelp forests that flourished off Orange County's coastline until about 10 years ago. With the near disappearance of the amber forests because of warmer water and overfishing, Raiche's diving students in the North Orange County Regional Occupation Program see the hundreds of fish and other creatures that live in kelp reefs only when the students travel to Santa Catalina Island.

As reliably as masses of sea bass gather off the Southern California coast each summer, boatloads of anglers arrive to reel them in. But their bountiful catches are an illusion, scientists say. The populations of kelp bass and barred sand bass, two of the most popular — and easy to catch — saltwater fishes in Southern California, have plummeted 90% since 1980, according to a study led by a researcher at the Scripps Institution of Oceanography...

While Mendocino County's seaweed farmers wrung $73,000 in sales from the ocean in 1989, San Diego-based Kelco was harvesting millions of dollars in giant kelp. Kelco, a division of pharmaceuticals giant Merck & Co., is the largest company of its kind in the world. It has three 140- to 180-foot ships, kelp cutters that mow the tops off the fastest-growing and tallest plants in the ocean. This seaweed, however, isn't harvested to be eaten.

June gloom might not be the only thing keeping people away from beaches in the South Bay this weekend. Swarms of black kelp flies — scientifically known as Coelopa frigida — have invaded beaches in Torrance, Redondo Beach, Manhattan Beach and Hermosa Beach, covering trash cans and lifeguard stands and annoying visitors. Though the flies are typically found in Redondo Beach near the rock-laden Topaz Street jetty, lifeguards said, there are definitely more this year.

It was a gamble when Southern California Edison crews pushed basketball-size chunks of rock from a barge off San Clemente three years ago. Eventually, the utility company hoped, the artificial reef it had assembled 50 feet below the waves would support a new kelp forest and fulfill state-imposed requirements to offset the damage its nearby nuclear power plant causes to marine life. Photos: Thriving kelp forest rises from a rock reef But no one expected the 174-acre Wheeler North Reef would thrive the way it has. Or as quickly.

Surfing's dirty secret is easy to find in the drab enclave of San Clemente known as the surf ghetto, where the ocean breeze is spiked with the sweet smell of chemicals and men wearing flip-flops and coated with white dust search for magic inside blocks of toxic foam. Joey Santley is looking for something equally elusive: an environmentally friendly surfboard. Or at least one with a carbon footprint that's less titanic. "A 'green surfboard' is inherently an oxymoron at this point," said Santley, 44, a frenetic surfboard shaper and entrepreneur.

"Whoa! That's so cool!" Julian Guzman shrieked as he spotted an image of wingless midge larvae. Guzman, 9, was joined Tuesday by his fellow third-grade classmates from 32nd Street School for a sneak peak at the new permanent exhibition wing, Ecosystems, at the California Science Center in Exposition Park. "We're encouraging people to notice the science that exists all around them -- to look beyond these walls to notice and explore out in the real world," said Jeffrey N. Rudolph, president and chief executive of the California Science Center.

Paul Dobbins and Tollef Olson admit they still have a kink in their scheme to use seaweed to revolutionize American eating habits, clean the environment, lower the federal trade deficit and make themselves fabulously rich. Call it the yuck factor. "It tastes better than it looks," said Olson, holding a shimmering frond of brown horsetail kelp he had just plucked from the cold gray waters of Casco Bay. "Really." Dobbins and Olson run what is believed to be America's only commercial kelp farm.

Rocks bigger than basketballs were pushed into the ocean off San Clemente this week to provide the foundation for a 150-acre reef for giant kelp -- a project scientists say is one of the largest and most advanced in the world. The artificial reef, to be made from roughly 125,000 tons of volcanic rock, is designed to anchor a swaying kelp forest, attract an array of marine creatures and help counteract the environmental destruction wrought by a nearby nuclear power plant.

To the average beach-goer, kelp is anything but glamorous. In large clumps, it regularly washes ashore, where it rots and draws flies. But to a diver, or anyone else who has ever seen its healthy fronds rising from the ocean floor, an amber gold flowing with the currents, occasionally interrupting the sun's penetrating rays, kelp is something to behold. "If you see it from underwater, it's actually a gigantic forest, as complex as the tropical rain forest that you see, or used to see, in Brazil," said Ken Wilson, a biologist for the Department of Fish and Game who has worked extensively with kelp for several years.

The massive sewage spill off Point Loma threatens catastrophe for several local businesses whose livelihoods are tied to giant offshore kelp beds. Already, one small but specialized enterprise has been hard-hit by the spill: divers' plucking of sea urchins to be turned into sushi. "We're not buying from off Point Loma until this thing is cleared," said Dave Rudie, spokesman for Catalina Offshore Products, which processes the divers' catch for market in the United States and Japan.

Jefferson "Zuma Jay" Wagner sails up Latigo Canyon Road in his Dodge minivan. He is complaining about the "beautiful people" marring Malibu with their egos -- building colossal homes on this iconic stretch of coast. He has a wry, low-lidded gaze and bears such an uncanny resemblance to Clint Eastwood that he once did a beer commercial in Japan as Dirty Harry. His van has 275,000 miles on it and smells of unwashed wetsuits. "I have a mega-mansion myself, 4,000 square feet," he says.

A vegetarian restaurant on the Mendocino coast has begun serving a six-course "sea vegetable dinner," featuring sea palm, nori, dulse and wakame -- different forms of seaweed. Though they're not your typical fare in the U.S., fresh sea vegetables are eaten all over the world by those who live close to the source. Asian cuisines feature the most seaweed, but it's also found on the menu in Scandinavia, Scotland and Peru. In Nova Scotia, they dine on sea parsley, or dulse; in northeast Siberia they eat kelp harvested from the Bering Sea. It's a bit of a misnomer to call them vegetables -- seaweeds are algae, and most are not considered members of the plant kingdom.