Explore Hawthorne Hydroponics in San Bernardino: A Grower's Guide

The Backyard Aquaponics Adventure: A Tale from San Bernardino

Well, let me start by saying that my backyard turned into a bustling mini-ecosystem that was half chaos, half wonder, and entirely a learning experience. Living in San Bernardino, I decided to try my hand at aquaponics, thinking “How hard could it be?” After all, I’ve watched tons of YouTube videos, admired the glossy pictures online, and with just a little determination, I figured I’d have a thriving garden. Spoiler: it didn’t quite go as planned.

The Grand Idea

It all began on a sunny Saturday morning last spring. It was a day like any other, but I remember sitting at my kitchen table, sipping what was probably my third cup of coffee, and talking to my wife, Mary. She watched me doodle sketches of fish swimming amid vibrant vegetables. “Imagine the fresh herbs we could have,” I said, the excitement bubbling over like an errant pot of boiling water. So, we decided to make aquaponics happen in our rather small yard, which was probably a good idea on paper but quickly turned into a comedy of errors.

Gathering Materials

I rummaged through our shed, looking for supplies I could use. My heart leapt when I uncovered an old plastic storage bin, which had probably seen better days. It had some holes in it, but I figured, “A little duct tape and it’ll be good as new.” You could say I had the ‘Let’s-make-this-work’ mentality. I found an old aquarium pump, dusty and cobweb-covered but still seemed serviceable. I tried to recall if it was from my last failed fish tank setup. A little water, a few test runs, and I thought it would do.

And then there were the fish. I decided on tilapia – they were hardy, easy to manage, and, let’s face it, the internet told me so. Just a short drive to the local pet store and there they were, sliding around in that tank like they owned the place. I picked up six, not fully understanding the responsibility I was throwing myself into. I gave them names—how could I not? Larry, Curly, and Morty quickly became a part of my weekend rituals, waiting for me to drop some fish food into their new home.

The Setup and the Mishaps

Putting the whole system together was a bit like assembling a giant jigsaw puzzle without the picture on the box. I started with a deep-water culture setup, relying on that trusty old plastic bin. After some head-scratching, I got the pump set, water running, and felt a swell of pride.

About a week in, though, it all went south. I thought I had nailed it, but the water started turning an alarming shade of green. The smell—it was something between stagnant pond and an overripe smoothie. I had read that green water meant algae growth, but I figured, “Hey, that’s natural, right?” That was until I lost Larry.

I remember standing there, jaw dropped, staring into that murky water, thinking, “This cannot be happening.” It felt like a scene from some tragic fishy opera. I learned my first lesson: the importance of balance.

The Learning Curve

Desperate to revive my little ecosystem, I got on my laptop and did what every modern-day problem-solver does: I googled furiously. I learned about water pH levels, ammonia toxicity, and beneficial bacteria. Good grief, I thought I was just going to be growing lettuce! I even went down a rabbit hole of YouTube videos on natural filtration systems.

After some late nights, I decided to add a small filter I found at a garage sale. It was meant for a trickling fountain, and I wasn’t sure it would work, but at that point, I had nothing to lose. Miraculously, after a few days, I started seeing improvements. The water cleared up a bit, and it felt like I was finally getting somewhere. But it was short-lived, and another fish, Curly, passed away shortly after.

Finding Community

Feeling defeated, I went to our local farmers’ market one weekend, hoping to find someone who knew more than I did. That’s when I stumbled across the Hawthorne Hydroponics booth—a wealth of knowledge and an instant sense of community. As I chatted with the folks there, I realized how I had been a lone wolf in my backyard struggles.

They welcomed me to workshops and offered tips on everything from nutrient solutions to companion planting. I left the market with new ideas and a determination to fix my system. I promised myself: I’d be back for a fresh start, maybe with some new fish as well.

The Ever-Evolving System

Armed with enthusiasm, I returned home. I reworked the existing setup, incorporating lessons learned. With fresh enthusiasm, I decided to plant basil and mint, which filled my little ecosystem with delightful smells. I made sure to keep the fish safe, adding a test kit to monitor ammonia and other chemicals.

In the end, I managed to stabilize the system, and my backyard was filled with leafy greens and a few lively red tilapia. Each time I watered the plants, fed the fish, I felt a little proud, a little more connected to nature.

Lessons Learned

Looking back, this entire journey has taught me more than just how to run an aquaponics system. It’s been a lesson in persistence, community, and a reminder that it’s okay to fail. I’ll admit, I almost gave up more than once when I couldn’t get the pump to work, or when I found another floating fish. But there’s something beautiful about the messiness of it all—the water, the smell, and the unpredictability of life.

So, if you’re sitting on a fence about starting your own adventure—whether in aquaponics or anything else—don’t worry about getting it perfect. Just start. You’ll figure it out as you go. And if you feel a bit lost, I highly encourage you to explore opportunities like those offered by Hawthorne Hydroponics. Join the next session, connect with like-minded folks, and immerse yourself in the possibilities. Trust me, the journey is worth it!