Guide to Setting Up an Indoor Aquaponics System in Vermillion

My Aquaponics Journey: Tales from Vermillion

You know, sometimes, you look at your backyard and think, “This is prime real estate for some crazy project.” That’s exactly what hit me one dreary afternoon in Vermillion, South Dakota. The leaves were crisping up with the arrival of autumn, and I just had a hankering to grow something you can’t buy at the grocery store. Cue the light bulb moment—an aquaponics system! Because why grow basic tomatoes when you could grow fish and greens in your living room?

The Spark of Inspiration

I had done my homework. Well, I mean, kind of. I watched enough YouTube videos until I thought I was basically the next Bob Vila. I couldn’t help but dream of tilapia swimming around happily while my lettuce thrived in a symbiotic relationship with them. Sounded great in theory, right? But let me tell you, the reality was a whole different kettle of fish—pun very much intended.

My “workshop” consisted of an old wooden shed overflowing with what I liked to call “treasures”—things like leftover nails, half-glued PVC pipes, and a few empty fish tanks I had picked up from yard sales. Who doesn’t love a good bargain? The only issue was trying to remember what the heck my plans were when I cobbled things together.

Building the Chaos

First off, I gathered my materials. Let’s just say they were very much of the DIY found-at-home variety. An old kiddie pool became my main basin; I figured it would hold enough water for the little fishy friends I planned to house. I also had a pump lying around that I thought would do the trick—it was red, old, and definitely not from the fancy store. But it was functional, right?

Now, I’m no plumber, but I attempted to rig up the plumbing system to circulate water from the fish tank to the hydroponic grow beds. The moment I filled the whole thing with water, my heart was racing—this was it! Except once I flipped the switch on the pump, all I heard was a sad gurgle. I thought I’d nailed it, but instead, I was greeted with water shooting up like a geyser and splashing everywhere. My dog, Duke, stood back, head cocked to one side as if to say, “Seriously, Dad?”

The Dreaded Smell

Eventually, after a few frustrated hours and several curse words later—sorry, Mom—I managed to get the pump working semi-correctly. But boy, did the water start smelling. Not exactly the “fresh-water-pond” scent I’d envisioned. It was more like a crossover between overripe fish and stagnant pond muck. I tried adding plants thinking they might mask the smell, hoping for a miracle. Spoiler alert: no miracle happened.

Once the summer sun hit, the water started turning a sickly shade of green. I panicked, thinking I missed something in my research. Was it algae? Was I drowning my fish? I rushed to the local pet store for answers, chatting with a bright-eyed lady named Veronica who could explain the nitrogen cycle with enthusiasm that almost made me forget my worries.

Fishy Decisions

Let’s talk about the fish for a second. I originally went in thinking I’d go for colorful koi because, hey, they’re beautiful! But they were too expensive, and I just couldn’t justify spending that much when I might end up with a fish graveyard in a matter of weeks. So, tilapia it was—hardy fish that supposedly could take a bit of neglect and still thrive.

I handpicked five tiny tilapia, each smaller than my palm and swimming around like they owned the place. I carried them home in a plastic bag, kinda like some fishy heist. But when I dumped them into their new world, one of them just immediately swam right into the pump. Cue my gut-sinking feeling as I realized I’d just turned a fishy dream into a fishy nightmare. Another one took ill soon after, and before I knew it, I felt completely defeated.

The Twist

But here’s where it got interesting. Instead of deciding to give up and throw in the towel altogether, each setback turned into a lesson. The gurgling and splashing also turned into a comedy show for my neighbors, who would often wander over to check out my “fish and plant sanctuary.” One day, they even brought over homemade brownies because they thought it was so cute—“It’s like a mini farm!” they laughed. Their response somehow lightened my heart.

I read more online, fiddled more with the setup, and soon discovered that the water quality was a central player in this whole game. I changed my water more frequently, cleaned the tanks better, and even found some old materials to create a better filtration system out of an empty kitchen colander and some rocks.

A Green Thumb Awakens

After what felt like an eternity of trial and error, my system eventually righted itself. The algae subsided, and remarkably, a few leafy greens started sprouting above the water—basil, mint, and something I couldn’t quite remember planting. The tilapia grew, too, and I felt a swell of pride each time I glanced outside. They swam peacefully, creating a little ecosystem I built—despite all that had gone wrong.

And while I may have lost a few fish along the way, I also gained a knack for gardening. In the end, I learned to embrace the chaos, and as it turns out, that’s precisely what makes it all worthwhile.

So, What’s the Takeaway?

If you’re on the fence about starting your own indoor aquaponics adventure, listen closely—don’t sweat the small stuff. Things will get messy, and there will be days when it feels like you’ve hit a brick wall. But like anything worth doing, it’s all about the journey. Just start. Tinker with what you have, embrace the chaos, and who knows? You might just find yourself with a few fishy friends and some new greens to spice up your meals.

And if you ever find yourself wanting to dive deeper into this world, consider joining the next aquaponics session. You can learn a ton and maybe sidestep some of the rookie mistakes I made. Just click here to reserve your seat: Join the next session!. Trust me, you won’t regret it!