The plight of the Queen Conch in the Gulf of Mexico, and specifically in Florida’s nearshore waters, is one of the most underappreciated struggles for survival. Seeing them live, travelling to areas where they are more prevalent, and working with conservationists has ignited my love of these amazing creatures. The experiences have compelled me to add my voice to their support: God saves the Queen Conch.
Florida’s Emerald Coast
Florida boasts some of the most spectacular beaches in the world. But I may be biased in that opinion, hailing from Florida’s Emerald Coast myself. My hometown is in the panhandle region, tucked up along the southern boundary of Alabama. The area is so named because the Gulf waters shine a spectacular bright green in the sunlight against the snowy white crystal quartz sand. Growing up in this region, a trip to the beach was often on the agenda each weekend in the warmer months. As a child, I would often spend less time making sandcastles or playing in the waves and more time searching for critters in the shallow water. As a native Floridian, you learn fun state facts in school, like the official state shell is that of the bright orange horse conch (Triplofusus giganteus), which can grow to an impressive length of 2 feet [1]. Nothing against the horse conch (pictured left), but I always found it strange that the queen conch (Aliger gigas), whose shells adorn every souvenir shop and condominium lobby within a mile of the beach, did not hold that honour (pictured below, the shell of a horse conch alongside that of a queen conch). After all, Florida is the only US state where the queen conch can be found.
Although queen conchs are not found on the Emerald Coast, much farther south within the warmer waters of the Florida Keys, their shells are ubiquitous in coastal Florida living and no true Floridian goes a summer without having conch fritters at least once. Despite their absence at my hometown beach, I happen to have a very special relationship with queen conch; I still remember the first time I saw one live. In the summer of 2006, I worked for a state agency in marine outreach and education. During a trip to Fort Pierce on the eastern Florida coast, I met with a few researchers at Florida Atlantic University’s Harbor Branch Oceanographic Institute (HBOI) who were working on a queen conch reestablishment program.
Love at First Slime
If you’ve never seen a live adult queen conch, they really are magnificent, for snails anyway. The word “snail” for most people elicits thoughts of gross and slimy, creepy little things- a pest to be eradicated before they destroy your backyard tomatoes. But queen conchs pack a surprising bit of natural beauty in those shells. They have long eye stalks with striking, well-formed eyes; a flared rosy orange and pink shell with blunt, thick spires; and a spectacular mosaic mottled pattern on the flesh of their eyestalks, proboscis (tube-shaped mouth), and foot.
One of the HBOI researchers reached into a tank well that was filled with conch shells; she pulled an adult from the bottom to place in my hand and, to my surprise, it didn’t retract like the crown conchs or the horse conchs in our outreach touch tanks. It just sat there and slowly raised its eyestalks to look at me. I took one look into the eyes of a true Caribbean queen and I fell in love; it was love at first slime! Such a charismatic snail, it’s a pity they are also delicious. Really, really delicious. Reflecting back on all of the conch fritters I’d eaten growing up was a bit unsettling after spending just a few moments with one in my hand and learning about their struggle for survival. As it happens, approx. 80% of the world’s internationally traded queen conch is consumed in the US [2]; yet, in my experience, very few Americans know what a live one looks like, especially in the wild.
The Life of a Regional Icon
Florida may be the only state in the US where you can see a queen conch in its natural habitat, but they are found throughout the Caribbean in seagrass beds, sandy flats, and coral reefs from the Atlantic waters around Bermuda to northern Brazil and westward throughout the southern Gulf of Mexico and the Caribbean Ocean [3]. Once prolific throughout the region, the queen conch is considered to be of vital cultural and economic significance to the people of the Greater Caribbean. The iconic conch shells are used in infrastructure for houses and shorelines and the fishery employs commercial and artisanal fishers throughout the conch territories [3;4]. Unfortunately, being delicious, late maturing, and slow-moving can lead to disaster; populations are declining throughout their range. Queen conch conservation is at the forefront of many small Caribbean nations whose economies largely depend on the species. Poaching, habitat degradation, and unlawful collection are some of the greatest threats aside from overfishing [2]. Here in the US, realizing that a simple lack of knowledge of the animal by those who are most responsible for its consumption has been an alarming wake-up call for conch conservationists who are trying to save the species.
The research I observed at HBOI involved the aquaculture of conchs for stock enhancement and eventual release. One of the issues they were investigating was the peculiarity that aquaculture-raised conchs did not have a natural fear of predation, which is probably why I got the full blast of those pretty eyes from the little royal mollusk I held. I didn’t realize then that it would be several years before I would have another encounter with a live queen conch. In Florida’s waters, people thought they were so tasty that we decimated the population and it’s currently a protected species for which harvest is strictly prohibited per the Florida Administrative Code [5]. Once abundant in the waters of the Florida Keys, a fishery collapse in the 1970’s forced management and protection of the species to prevent further over-exploitation [2]. These days, seeing a queen conch shell on the beach is uncommon and seeing a live conch in Florida’s waters is still quite rare.
Visiting an Old Flame
In fact, it wasn’t until a 2019 trip to Belize that I was reminded of them. Stepping from a shuttle boat onto Tobacco Caye, a small island off the Belizean coast, I felt transported right back to that tank-well where I first saw my slimy little sweetie. Long departed from my position in Florida and now living three conch-less states away, it had been years since I even thought about a queen conch. But there they were, mounds of conch shells. The overwhelming profusion of the queen conch on that tiny island was arresting, especially to someone who had previously spent years trying to raise awareness for them in an area where they were scarce and fiercely protected. Being fully aware that they are indigenous to Caribbean waters did not quell my astonishment at physically seeing the sheer numbers of shells on the beach
In talking to the locals, I learned that they are literally everywhere. They are abundant in the shallow water seagrass beds that surround the island, in the patch reefs just beyond the shallows, and in the deeper, open waters. On the island they are harvested for food and their shells are used as decorations and to build out the beach, fortifying the shorelines against wave action. At the time of my visit, conch season had just ended [6] and live conchs were not as abundant in the shallows. That didn’t stop me from trying to find one and I did manage to see a live juvenile in a patch reef while snorkelling, but it was nowhere near the size of the adult shells lining the beaches.
Managing for Harvest
Seeing so many shells and realizing that there is an open harvest season led me to review the conch regulations enforced in Belize. As one of the remaining western Caribbean conch states with an open season, the Belizean conch fishery is such that population reports indicate open harvest is sustainable there for an annual period of nine months [6]. In 2019, the Belizean Fisheries Department reported fairly stable populations in the region as compared to neighbouring conch states 7 inches) due to their gear restrictions; scuba gear is prohibited for the harvest of conch [6] which means that they must be collected from shallow waters, where larger adults are rare. In contrast, within waters where scuba gear is permitted, breeding adults identified by a thick, flared shell lip (pictured left a large adult shell alongside two juvenile shells), are being heavily harvested, and populations are declining drastically [8]. Several conch states are concurrently working on improving populations both by conducting research on the reestablishment of stocks and through moratoriums and more [7]. They attribute this to the harvest of sub-adult specimens (minimum shell length o restrictive regulations regarding the harvest of the species [8]. Some jurisdictional authorities have even had to enact harvesting bans [9] due to the decline of conchs in their waters. Bermuda has had a standing ban in place since 1978, Montserrat since 1996, and Florida since 1985 [10].
Visiting Belize and learning about their achievements in conch management gave me hope that one day their numbers may return to the waters of southern Florida. As of 2019, queen conch was in year 12 of 15-year management and rebuilding plan in the United States [11]. I hope the researchers have been successful with reintroduction and that the regulations aimed at decreasing harvest have allowed populations to increase because I am excited to see what year 15 brings. While I know they will likely never be in the northern waters of the Emerald Coast, I would still love it if I could go down to the Keys to catch up with an old flame, and then eat him.
About The Author
S. Gail Gainey currently works as an Environmental Resource Specialist with the US Army Corps of Engineers. She is a master’s candidate for Conservation Biology with Project Dragonfly at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio. Her graduate work focuses on coastal ecosystems and the sustainability of aquatic resources. Gail is a native of Florida who loves to travel, snorkel, and hike.
Literature Cited
- Florida Department of State. (2021). State Shell.
- US Fish and Wildlife Service (FWS). (n.d.). International Affairs: Queen Conch.
- Brownwell, W. N. and Stevely, J. M. (1981). The biology, fisheries, and management of the queen conch, Strombus gigas [Caribbean]. Marine Fisheries Review 43(7) 1-12.
- Ballantine, David & Appeldoorn, Richard. (1983). Queen conch culture and future prospects in Puerto Rico. Proceedings of the Gulf and Caribbean Fisheries Institute: 35, 57-63.
- Florida Administrative Code, 68B-16.004 (2013).
- Fisheries and Resource Monitoring System (FIRMS). (2017). Belize Queen Conch Fishery.
- Channel 5 Belize. (2019, April 11). Belize Fisheries Department Weighs In on the Quality of the Queen Conch Fishery [Video]
- Prada, M. C.; Appeldoorn, R. S.; Van Eijs, S. & Pérez, M. M. (2017). Regional Queen Conch Fisheries Management and Conservation Plan. FAO Fisheries and Aquaculture Technical Paper No. 610. Rome, FAO. 70 pp.
- The Gleaner. (2020, February 20). Conch ban still on.
- Theile, S. (2001): Queen Conch fisheries and their management in the Caribbean. TRAFFIC Europe.
- NMFS (National Marine Fisheries Service), Southeast Fisheries Science Center. (2007). Caribbean Queen Conch Stock Assessment Report. SEDAR 14 Workshop (Southeast Data, Assessment and Review).
This piece was prepared online by Panuruji Kenta, Publisher, SEVENSEAS Media