My Aquaponics Adventure: A Backyard Experiment Gone Awry
So there I was, standing in my backyard in Scarborough, Maine, with dirt under my fingernails and a not-so-lovely whiff of stagnant water lingering in the air. I was ready to tackle my newest obsession: building an aquaponics system. If you’re scratching your head like my neighbor surely was, let me explain. Aquaponics is this brilliant combo of aquaculture (that’s raising fish) and hydroponics (growing plants without soil). The basic idea? Fish poop feeds the plants, and the plants clean the water for the fish. Sounds perfect, right?
The Genesis: Dreams in a Toolbox
I’d been reading about sustainable gardening for months. My old toolbox was a hodgepodge of stuff collected over the years—some rusted screws, a few broken tools, and probably a couple of wrenches that belonged to my granddad. That day, I pulled out everything that looked even remotely useful. I even had an old kiddie pool from last summer’s yard sales that I thought would work well for the fish.
But let me dial it back. I did a little online research, only to be overwhelmed with diagrams and videos presenting ready-made aquaponics systems that looked like something out of a space age. I laughed, thinking “Pffft, I can do that” and set about to create my own version. Spoiler alert: I could not.
Digging In: The Construction
First, I dug up some of the gravel from our driveway, reminding myself to remind my wife later that “this is for the fish!” I hooked up a little pump that I’d salvaged from an old fountain—never mind that the only thing I knew about it was that it turned on. The pipework twisted like a snake around the kiddie pool, and honestly, I felt like an engineer for a good fifteen minutes.
I filled the kiddie pool with water, added in a few rocks, and dropped in some goldfish. Why goldfish? They were the cheapest at the pet store, and, hey, I like orange. It seemed reasonable at the time! But as I watched them swirl around, I realized I hadn’t exactly accounted for the whole "water cycle" thing. The water started smelling a bit funky, and I realized, heaven help me, I had no clue how to filter it properly.
A Fishy Situation
Fast forward a week, and with great disappointment, I noticed my family of goldfish was not doing so hot. I Googled desperately, "Why is my water green and my fish lethargic?" One too many algae blooms, apparently, and I’d totally forgotten to get a kit to test the water’s pH levels. Was I an aquatic gardener or a fish mortician?
Through tears of frustration, I contemplated giving up. I nearly tossed that poor kiddie pool into the woods—“It’s too complicated, it’s not worth it!”—but something inside me pushed back. Wasn’t I supposed to be learning?
A Breath of Fresh Air
On a particularly sunny afternoon, I decided to take a breather. I walked into my garage, looking for something, anything that could possibly save my aquaponics dreams from drowning. I stumbled upon an old fish tank filter that I had once bought during a short-lived attempt at a normal aquarium. A light bulb went off.
I rigged it up to my kiddie pool, and lo and behold, the water started to clear up. My goldfish perked up at least a bit. It was still a long way from perfect, but I felt an inkling of pride, something to savor over my evening coffee.
The Final Straw
Weeks rolled on, and I slowly connected all the dots. I played around with different plants, planting a mix of basil and mint, both of which promised to thrive in my chaotic system. I watched them grow, tiny green sprouts bobbing on the surface as if they were bobbing along to the rhythm of my trials and errors. And then, just when I thought I had it under control, another setback: our dear goldfish—let’s call them Fluffy and Bubba—mysteriously disappeared. I hadn’t secured the top of the kiddie pool properly. A raccoon, a sneaky little thief, had made off with my fishy friends.
As much as I cried over Fluffy and Bubba, their untimely demise didn’t stop me. I appreciated those little guys for what they’d taught me—patience, perseverance, and the harsh reality that not all pets can be kept safe from local wildlife.
The Takeaway
Looking back over my scattered notes and water-testing kits (which I finally remembered to buy) scattered around the backyard, I felt a surge of gratitude. I may not have the shiny aquaponics setup that Instagram promised me, and my goldfish saga wasn’t exactly a glowing success story, but what I learned along the way mattered profoundly.
Growing my own fish and plants sounds a little ridiculous, but sometimes it’s about the journey, not the destination. It pushed me to learn, experiment, and persevere through failures.
So if you’re in Scarborough, or anywhere really, and you find yourself curious about aquaponics or hydroponics in general, don’t let the fear of messing up hold you back. Dive in—figuratively speaking, of course—and see where it takes you.
And who knows? Maybe you’ll end up creating something amazing.
If you’re thinking about doing this, don’t worry about getting it perfect. Just start. You’ll figure it out as you go.
Join the next session at my favorite local hydroponics store here—you might just find your own Fluffy and Bubba waiting to be part of your backyard adventure!
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