Journal of The New Alchemists 7 (1981)

"
:
_ THEJOULOF _
NUMBER .

E:;r, Agrioulture,
Ature Housing, Landscapes

Text and illustrations copyright 1 1981 by the New Alchemy Institute
Al rights rese111ed. No part of this book may be rep.duced without wrillw
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This book has been produced in the United States of America. It is
published by The Stephen Greene Press, Brattleboro, Vermont 05301.
LIBRARY Of CONGRESS CATALOGING IN PUBLICATION DATA
The Journal of the new alchemists. t-
Woods Hole, Mass., New Alchemy Institute, ctg73-
v. ill. 31 em.
Key title: The Journal of the new alchemists, ISSN 0162-833X
4 Human ecology-Periodicals. 2. Environmental protec-
tion-Periodicals. 3 New Alchemy Institute-Periodicals.
4
Organic farming-Periodicals. 5 Fish culture-Periodicals. t.
New Alchemy Institute.
GFso.68 301.3t'os 78-645501
ISBN o-8289-0406-s
EditoT NANCY JACK TODD
MembeTShip CHRISTINA C. RAWLEY
CoveT and DivideT ATtist JEFFREY PARKIN
Dmwings
Photography
Typing
JAN ADKINS
). BALDWIN
EARLE BARNHART
RICHARD C. BARTLETT
HENRIKE KROEKER
BOBBIE FORTUN LIVELY
MAlA MASSION
JEFFREY PARKIN
PAUL SUN
VAN RYN, CALTHORPE &
PARTNERS
MALCOLM WELLS
HILDE MAINGAY
RON ZWEIG
DENISE BACKUS
RICK BECK
BILL McNAUGHTON
CYNTHIA KNAPP
JANE RUNGE
Journal of the New Alchemists 7
7 The New Alchemy Institute
9 Introduction Nancy Jack Todd
13 New Alchemy
CONTENTS
1 6 Adventures in the Mail Trade
1 7 Refections on Apprenticeship
19 Valentine Season: Riverdale
Denise Backus
Scott Stokoe
Thomas Beny
19 Poem Tyrone Cashman
20 Reaching Out Robert Sardinsky
2 3 Another Earth Gypsy Tyrone Cashman
26 New Alchemy and Ecodevelopment in Costa Rica William 0. McLarey
35 Energy
37 Greasing the Windmill Sietze Buning
39 Scale and Diversity in Energy Systems Joe Seale
42 The Forming of the Cape and Islands Self-Reliance Cooperative Greg Watson and
Michael Greene
45 Autologic ]. Baldwin
Land and Its Use
53 Garden Notes Susan Ervin
56 A Report From the Tree People
56 Introduction John Quinney
58 Surveying and Grafting Local and Antique Fruit Trees Mavis Clark
58 Recycling Leaf Nutrients Ed Goodell
6o Nitrogen-Fixing Trees and Shrubs John Quinney
62 Hedgerows and Living Fences John Quinney
64 Birds and Biological Pest Control Loie Urquhart
68 Tree Crops for Structural Materials Scott Stokoe
70 Weaving With Willow Maryann Fameli and Earle Barhart
71 Aquaculture
74 Alternatives to Commercial Feeds in the Diets of Cultured Fish William 0. McLarey and
Jeffrey Parkin
83 Defining and Defying Limits to Solar-Algae Pond Fish Culture David Engstrom, John Wolfe,
and Ron Zweig
88 Modeling Algal Growth and Decline in Solar-Algae Ponds David Engstrom, John Wolfe, and
Ron Zweig
9s Bioshelters
97 Logging The Course of the Ark
97 Indoor Gardening Colleen Armst1ong
104 Controlling the Whitefy Colleen Annstrong
108 Toxic Materials in the Bioshelter Food Chains and Surrounding Ecosystems Dr. Han Tai,
Colleen Armstrong, and John Todd
1 1 o Reg lazing John Wolfe
1 12 Modeling and Design of Future Bioshelters Joe Seale and John Wolfe
1 19 Putting Ourselves on the Line
119 The BAM Greenhouse: Homemade Tapestry Hilde Maingay
1 20 The BAM Greenhouse: It's Great Ate Atema
122 The BAM Greenhouse: Notes on Intent, Function and Form Earle Barhart
123 We Scrounged and Recycled Denise and Dick Backus
125 From the Group Up Christina Rawley and Ron Zweig
1 26 Why Not a Solar Greenhouse on the Second Floor? Bmbara Chase
128 Notes From a Professional Rick Beck
129 We Threw Caution to the Sun Nancy Jack Todd and John Todd
133 Explorations
135 The Village as Solar Ecology
135 Prologue Nancy Jack Todd
17 The Village as Solar Ecology john Todd
139 Conceptualizing the Village
139 The Need for Villages William Irwin Thompson
141 Ourkind Keith Critchlow
142 Feng-shui: An Ancient Theory of Village Siting Paul Sun (Sun Peng-Cheng)
145 A Single Shared World Mary Catherine Bateson
14 7 Energy and Architecture
147 Solar Village Principles and Construction Ideas Malcolm Wells
149 Soft-Energy Paths From Here to the Village Amory Lovins
151 A Dome Bioshelter as a Village Component ]. Baldwin
154 Notes on An Agricultural Cultural Solar Village in the American Southwest John Todd
156 Ecological Cycles
156 Some Considerations for Agriculture in a Solar Village Susan Ervin
15 7 The Need for Trees L. Hunter Lovins
158 Waste Water Reclamation Through Ecological Processes Steve Serfing
162 The Sustainable Farm Wes Jackson
164 Looking Back to Now Wes Jackson
1 70 Early Manifestations
1 70 Project 1
The Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine john Todd
172
Project 2
A Maine Coastal Village john Todd
1 7 4 Project 3
Marin Solar Village John Todd
175 Index
8 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
This Journal of The New Alchemists, our seventh,
perhaps more than any of its predecessors reflects
a tension between the actual and the conceptual,
between the present and the future, between being
and bringing into being. Were one searching for
a descri ptive thematic title, something like "New
Alchemy and Beyond" would be fairly accurate.
The joural remains, as it always has been, an on
going report by New Alchemists on our most recent
work in various fields of ecological research. Still,
journal is a better name than report for such an
eclectic collection of writings because in the joural
we have always tried to avoid the fallacy of much
of orthodox science and not to overlook the fact
that we, as people, with our various insights, prior
ities, and prejudices are a part of the paradigm.
In sum, the Joural offers its readers not only the
song but its assorted singers as well.
That explains the present, or "New Alchemy,"
part of this issue. The "and Beyond" is a bit more
complicated, involving, as it does, two roughly de
finable categories or stages. We have, of course,
always been conscious of the larger picture, know
ing that our work had little meaning in a vacuum
and that without our fellow travelers in the antinu
clear, disarmament, alternative technology, envi
ronmental, and eco-feminist movements, our activ
ities, however rewarding to ourselves, were largely
esoteric. Still, that horizon is rather removed and
part of processes less in one's own hands. It has
only been within the last few years, and the last
year in particular, that we have formulated a tan
gible effort in outreach. What began long ago with
Farm Saturdays has evolved into an active edu
cational program. Besides our own efforts in out
reach we have joined forces recently with the Com
munity Action Committee based in Hyannis,
Massachusetts, and three other local groups to
form the Cape and Islands Self-Reliance Cooper
ative. Should the co-op be a success, we shall have
become part of a decentralized regional political
network, as we always hoped to be. We have begun
to be consulted in our area on other issues like
waste treatment and energy policy as well. If in the
beginning we were somewhat isolated from our
community, we no longer are.
Now New Alchemy, which began as a concept,
or vision, and became embodied in a physical real
ity that had a context in its time, sixties bor and
seventies bred, has a context of community, of
place, as well. It becomes increasingly difficult to
set precise boundaries between New Alchemy and
that which is beyond it.
Perhaps it is because we live in such an extraor
dinary and dangerous time that we are constantly
being tugged at to envision our work still further
into the future. Having encapsulated our discov
eries in energy collection and storage, aquaculture,
soils, and organic vegetable production in the
bioshelter, we began to ask ourselves, What next?
It was in response to such mental questing and
more specifically to prompting from Margaret Mead
that New Alchemy convened a conference entitled
"The Village As Social Ecology: A Generic Design
Conference." The entire Explorations section of this
journal is devoted to ideas engendered by the con
ference and written by many of the participants.
So it is that although we continue to live and work
in the present, adding solar greenhouses to our
houses, tending gardens and fish, recording and
analyzing data, and searching for underlying pat
terns and connections with the natural world, watch
ing our trees and our children grow and mature,
we are at the same time living in a dialectic with
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 9
the future, fantasizing and planning our Platonic
village of the sun, knowing that the vision will both
form and inform us.
There are times in this decade of escalating mil
itarism, frequent outbreak of war, the arms race,
and the omnipresent nuclear threat, not to mention
the continuing devastation of the natural world,
when we see our efforts as quixotic at best, or even
as absurd. But Gregory Bateson has written that
a fantasy is made real or validated by the actions
that it dictates and that in such a process the fan
tasy can then become morphogenetic, and as such
a determinant of society. A tenuous hope perhaps,
but reassuring coming from a mind with the stature
of Bateson's. Richard Grossinger, writing in Plant
Medi ci ne of our work and that of others, observed,
". . . healing and farming have tended to take on
a small piece of the cosmic vision and for many
involved in the transition, it seems natural and
smooth."*
According to Gary Snyder, Coyote, Old Man (old
with the oldness of once upon a time), who was the
wonderful archetypical trickster of Native American
myth-when myth was, as it should be, a way of
understanding life and our place in the universal
patter-spoke of a Dream Ti me that is outside of
history. Dream Time surrounds us, and out of
Dream Time comes the healing. In this journal we
have included a description of the time that is now
and a glimpse of the Dream Ti me.
N.J. T.
Richard Grossinger. 1980. Planet Medicine: From Stone Age Sha
manism to Post Industrial Healing. Garden City, N.Y.: Anchoroubleday.
IO
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
IZ THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
A long time ago, when I fst wrote about New Al
chemy as it was just beginning, it wasn't too diffcult
to give a rendering that rang fairly true. There were
so few of us then, and we had taken only a few
cautious steps around the edges of the vast idea
we were exploring. Each aspect of our work, every
fish and garden crop, every new wind gadget,
could be remembered, named by all of us. We had
all taken part or at least been present for part of
the activity surrounding each one of these.
But slowly at first, and then more rapidly, the
group expanded, the number of projects increased,
new fields of work were incorporated, and some
of the sense of the turing seasons and years was
lost; some of the harvests began to blur together
a bit. Even then it was possible when writing of an
event or particular period of time to convey a feeling
of the place, of the people and what it felt like to
be together, of the vari ous projects, and of the un
derlying intellectual framework in which it all took
place.
It has become much harder to do so. So many
of the areas of research; the computer modeling
of solar design, the analysis of the water chemistry
in the solar-algae ponds, the details of suitable tree
management, have reached a level of complexity
requiring expertise well beyond that of the amateur.
It has become challenging tor any one of us to give
a comprehensive explanation of all facets of our
research. The range of subject matter in this Joural
testifies to this. The report on toxic chemicals in the
Ark, for example, or the one on modeling algal
growth and decine in solar-algae ponds, is highly
technical and while still of interest to nonexperts,
could not have been generated by them. Clearly,
in spite of our best intentions, we have had to give
way to a degree of specialization. It is frequently
essential that we have subgroup meetings in ad
dition to the regular weekly meeting of the complete
group. Five definable categories of work have
evolved: agriculture, aquacu
i
ture, bioshelters, the
National Science Foundation team, and administra
tion and outreach. Each of these requires informed
decisions, and although all meetings are open to
everyone, none of us can possibly find the time to
go to many that don't directly concer us.
With this unavoidable separation of work and,
spatially at least, of people, it's harder to summon
a phrase that encapsulates a feeling of a time com
mon to all of us. A summer of great productivity in
the garden may be one of mishaps in aquaculture.
The windmills may be behaving commendably dur
ing the same period that the office staf or outreach
people are running constantly just to stay in the
same place. I used to write paragraphs that began,
"It was a summar of sunflowers. marigolds and
cabbages, tilapia and midges, weeding and pick
ing . . . " and feel that such phrases gave a sum
mary and essence of that time. I don't think I could
do so now. It is so much harder to extract and distill
a commonality from a more complex and diffuse
reality.
And yet, at base, the fabric remains a whole.
New Alchemy is not made up of departments, the
work and goals of which are unrelated. We are
conscious most, if not all, of the time whether some
one of us is running the computer, or cleaning out
a fish tank, or hoeing the soil, that we are working
physically and conceptually to help make possible
a sustainable future. Inching slowly forward, always
faling short, that is the reason, the hope, and the
ethic in which we work. So most of the time the
prevailing psychological climate, although more
disparate than it once was, is not one of disunity.
And then there are still the wonderful times like
communal work sessions, or gatherings, or feasts
like the weddings of Colleen Armstrong and Shel
don Frye, and Susie Hoerchek and Jeff Parkin, or
Harvest Festival, or even a good Farm Saturday.
Then it's all still there, an unshakable sense of what
it is we set out to do, and why, and a sense that
we would not have our collective lie other than it
is.
In this section, devoted somewhat loosely to
events at the center on Cape Cod and its affiliate
in Costa Rica or to various activities of New Alche
mists, we have included a sampling of doings in
the office, an account of apprenticeship, a descrip
tion of our outreach program, some observations
of a traveling New Alchemist, and Bill McLarey's
saga of the eventful lif e in Costa Rica.
N.J.T
H Maigay
Hde Ma11 gay
I
S
Adventes in te Ma Trde
Denise Backus
In October 1979 New Alchemy appeared on ABC's
"Good Morning, America." The flm crew arrived
just days before Harvest Festival weekend. We
were swamped with preparations for that, i n the
middle of reglazing the Ark, and talking with a
writer doing a cover story on us for New Roots.
The flm crew was easy to have around, the
weather cooperated, and to our surprise we en
joyed it.
On October 23 the three- to four-minute segment
appeared on TV and our address was fashed on
the screen for a split second at the end. I suppose
we did discuss what the publicity might do to our
already heavy mail load, but we were unprepared
for the deluge of letters. Fifty the frst day, then
a hundred, and more in the days that followed.
By the end of the third week, the numbers dwin
dled, but we had received a total of about 1 , 350 letters.
Our small offce staff couldn't handle the job, so
we farmed it out to another person, who put all
names and addresses on labels and helped us send
out the letter John and Nancy Jack Todd com
posed along with a brochure and a bibliography.
Some wonderful versions of our address arrived
at 237 Hatchville Road in East Falmouth:
Biotransition, Etc., Hatfeld Rd.
Solar Living, Hatchmore Rd.
Solar Research Farm, Hatchenow Rd.
The Academy Corp, Hatchfeld Rd., MA
Food Farm TV, Hackford Rd.
Organic Life Farm
Scientifc Thermiology
Alchemy 2000
Hatchmill Institute of Solar Energy
New Way of Living
Food Without Fertilizer
Alcohmey Society, Homestead Project, Hatchmouth,
Facemouth, MA
and my favorite:
Solar Energy-Windmill Power-Fish Raising-Vegeta
bles (with nonchemical humis fertilize1) Experimental
Farm, Hatchville, RFD, MA
Not bad for a quick fash on the screen. And hats
off to the post offce that brought it all to us. The
mail hasn't been quite the same since.
r6 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Refectons on Apprentceshp
Scott Stokoe
"Volunteer." "Apprentice." "That new guy work
ing with Ron."
All these epithets point to the meaning of being
a volunteer at The New Alchemy Institute. But
each of these categories alone is incomplete.
Volunteer. This cdinition touches the basic na
ture of our position here. We receive no pay, no
benefts, no board or housing. We have come to
donate our time, energy, and ideas. Yet our role
runs much deeper; we do, in fact, receive so much.
Apprentice. We have come to learn, to practice
under a skilled and leared person. And from our
contribution of time and support we receive in
valuable hands-on experience and an opportunity
to study the basic research and information for
which New Alchemy is noted.
"That new guy working with Ron." This third
label points to our individual relationships with
our work, our sponsors, and the institute as a
whole. We are placed in one-to-one encounters
with our mentors; this is rare in traditional higher
education. The hours we work, the information
we research, and the work we do in the feld are
all a part of these personal relationships. And we
have the opportunity to pursue our own areas of
interest within our research.
A fnal consideration is the simple opportunity
to be present and involved with The New Alchemy
Institute. From eating fresh out-of-season greens
and vegetables to meeting and interacting with
some of the innovators and thinkers of the alter
native movement, the extracurricular experiences
are many and varied. Conferences, lectures, gar
dening (for instruction and for eating), feld trips,
readings, and socializing with Alchemists and fel
low volunteers are part of the extra bounty.
These terms roughly defne the position of a
volunteer. This is the basic experience common to
us all at t
h
e farm. And yet this is only the foun
dation for each individual's experience. The sub
stance of each apprenticeship is as varied as the
personalities involved. Some of us work full time,
some part time. Some are here as a part of their
academic program, others have blown in on winds
of discontent. Some have specifc research direc
tions, others are gaining broad exposure to the
huge range of opportunities. Some have related
skills and experiences to apply to the ongoing work
here, others are acquiring new skills and infor
mation to apply to efforts beyond New Alchemy.
Some of us have families here with us, others are
single. Some of us are inclined to the theoretical
and ideological, while others emphasize the prac
tical and the concrete. And yet nearly every per
sonal facet fnds an avenue of expression
.
Truly,
our experiences here refect the character and
goals of each of us.
Volunteers have a wide mnge ofexpectations when they
anive here and theiT expe1ience to date indicates that those
expectations aTe met and shatteTed thToughout thei1 time
here.
John Q.
I came to New Alchemy out of a need to explore
and discover. Feeling isolated and confused, I was
challenging my own inherited axioms and the so
cial structures that expressed them. My intuition
and personal experience presented intellectual op
tions, directions that ran counter to the values and
ways with which I had grown up and that were
currently dominating the culture in which I was
immersed. I remained frm in my belief that pos
itive, life-affrming, ecological, and humane alter
natives were viable and it was possible to replace
the wasteful, destructive cycles of our society. But
my blindered search revealed no avenues, no op
tions. Because my alignment with an alternative
culture movement came solely from an internal
intellectual grappling, it was not clear to me that
many other people were searching for ways to cre
ate a sustainable future. It took some readings of
William Irwin Thompson's work and a radio pro
gram about The New Alchemy Institute to bring
me in touch with some alternative activities. From
this little input, I knew that I was coming to New
Alchemy.
Armed with a hardy idealism and buoyed by the
knowledge that there was a place that was actually
putting alternatives into physical form, I delivered
myself to the Cape Cod institute, determined to
"ft in. " I had no idea that there was a volunteer
program, nor what input I might have in the re
search. All that was clear was that New Alchemy
was proceeding in
directions I believed in and to

which I wanted to contribute.
My limited background with citrus and avocado
trees in Israel seemed to match a need expressed
by Earle Barnhart for a yearlong volunteer (the
maximum time allowed) to help in the tree crops
program. I am now halfway through this program,
picking up skills and information daily, while work
ing in the feld and in research. I offer this brief
account of my own experience only as one example
of the many different experiences and back
grounds of apprentices at The New Alchemy In
stitute. Each volunteer who comes has her/his own
story to tell. The diversity of backgrounds, goals,
and directions of New Alchemy apprentices seems
as continuous as the fow of folks coming to ex
change time, labor, and caring for information,
skills, and sharing.
. . . we fored our Voluntea's Group out ofa basic New
Alchemy principle ofself-reliance. We wanted to increase
the 11itality of our exp1rena; 111 wnntPr mm
1 nnr wP
created it.
Mick G.
The diversity of the individuals in the fall 1 979
group became evident in our early, limited contact.
Working on different areas at the farm and pur
suing different lifestyles away from the farm, com
munication and sharing were at a premium. And
yet it became clear early in ur collective tenure
as apprentices that we did have some common
goals. We all sought a context greater than our
own minds to contemplate the issues raised at the
farm within the general movement in which we
found ourselves. We all felt a desire to get together
socially, to take time to chat, to share our daily
activities and the general progress in the fields in
which we were working. And fnally, we had a very
pointed admonition from our predecessors: to pull
together, to communicate, and to support each
other.
Some of the volunteers from the previous sum
mer had had some diffcult times through that
bustling, demanding season-insuffcient contact
with their sponsors and a heavy work routine with
out the desired information exchange. This sum
mer group also recognized that a regular meeting
of volunteers would be useful both for socializing
and information exchange.
This is how meetings began. There were nine
or ten of us in the fall and all but two were new.
For the structure, we chose the traditional New
Alchemy potluck supper. For the function, we
chose to study together, in greater depth, the var
ious areas of research at the farm. Since then
speakers have been invited from the core group
of the New Alchemists as well as other people
knowledgeable about alternative lifestyles, philos
ophies, and technologies.
Our regular meetings, our organization, and our
earnestness all combine to create a special place
for volunteers at New Alchemy. It is a foundation,
newly evolved for apprentices here, that can offer
support and depth to the demanding and reward
ing life of a New Alchemy apprentice.
Valentine Season: Riverdale
It's Night
Upon the River
Mid-Februmy
Venus shines
Out of the wintry Sky
From the distance
The Palisades
Loom starkly
Over the world
Such a night
Sends the mind
Back into
Those billion yean
It took
To .frame all this
The ancient Red Oak
Itself a newcomer
H ere by the imbedded rock
With its long glacier striations
It's all here
Too ovenhelming
For human endumnce
Were it not
For mdiant memmies
Of the Willows
Seen earlier today
Yellowing
In the late
Evening Sunlight.
Thomas Beny February 1g8o
i ;!
I'
!I
Vi
, I
The stage is bme now. We are between theories. We
are in the last period of the fossil fuel em
and the so-called nuclear era is already
aborting.
What we miss i something as simple as a vision of
how we will live in the futuTe.
No one sees the futwe; we have no cleaT images-as
a culture, as a nation, as the Western world.
When the stage is empty there is unpucedented
oppoTtunity.
When the stage of the future is unoccupied, when there
is not one strong vision of which we are all
in the process of working out, we don't have
to fght against either the established vision
OT the rebels. There is no enemy. The empty
stage is the rarest of opportunities. Then
build a futuTe, make it work, and let the
world steal it.
Tyrone Cashman
Reprimed with permission from Rain magazine, November, '977
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 I9
Rechg Out
Robert Sardinky
I n May 1978, New Alchemy celebrated Sun Day, an
international day of recognition and festivities on
behalf of a solar future. Over a thousand people
visited New Alchemy that day, half of them stu
dents from local schools. I showed two elementary
classes and one high school class around the farm.
My first two tours were with a group of frst and
third graders who were as excited as Mexican
jumping beans, curious about almost everything
and full of thought-provoking questions (at least
from their perspective). I was challenged to explain
all that we were doing at New Alchemy in a sim
plifed, yet thorough way. We played, talked,
touched, and sang together. New Alchemy took
on a completely different perspective for me as I
saw it through their eyes. My energy level sky
rocketed, and my spirit danced with the kites fying
high overhead. I was hooked. Later that day my
experience with the high school class was very dif
ferent. They were a gum-chewing, radio-toting,
disinterested and apathetic bunch, no fun at all.
What had occurred in the process of growing up?
This passage i n Rachel Carson's The Sense of Wonder
gave me some insight into what had happened.
A child's world is fresh and new and beautiful, full
of wonder and excitement. It is our misfortune that
for most of us that clear-eyed vision, that true instinct
for what is beautiful and awe-inspiring, is dimmed
and even lost before we reach adulthood. If I had
infuence with the Good Fairy who is supposed to
preside over the christening of all children, I should
ask that her gift to each child be a sense of wonder
so indestructible that it would last throughout life, as
an unfailing antidote against the boredom and dis
enchantments of later years, the sterile preoccupation
with things that are artificial, the alienation from the
sources of our strength.*
Socialization and schooling was smothering young
people's "sense of wonder." Thinking back to my
youth I could sympathize with the high school stu
dents I had worked with. School had a stifing
impact on my development, as did my best friend
at home, the television set. Somehow my own
deeply ingrained sense of wonder had endured.
The beauties, mysteries, and excitement of my
childhood experiences in the wilderness gave me
this inner strength. My own negative schooling
*Rachel Carson. 1965. The Sense of Wonder. N.Y.: Harper & Row.
Hilde Ma1ngay
experiences combined with my initial exposure to
working with young people at New Alchemy mo
tivated me to search for more humane approaches
to educating young people that foster an appre
ciation and respect for all life on earth. Our Sun
Day celebration sparked many requests for tours
from school groups. There was clearly a strong
interest and need for us to begin catering to young
people.
In the fall of 1 978, I began building the foun
dations for a New Alchemy school group education
program. I t was decided to set it up as a one-year
pilot project to determine its long-term feasibility.
We wanted to know if the farm could be used as
a classroom for school groups without their inter
fering with people's work and whether the pro
gram could sustain itself fnancially. My frst year's
experience working with school groups at New
Alchemy was very successful and we decided to
adopt the program.
:o
Over three thousand students, preschool pupils
through graduate students, have participated in
our educational programs during the past two
years representing public and private schools
throughout New England. The tremendous diver
sity in age, residence, and soCioeconomic back
ground of these students gave us an opportunity
to try many different approaches to educating
young people about living lightly on the earth.
Such immensely challenging work has been both
energizing and exhausting. In the half to full day
we spend with each group, we attempt to open up
each person's eyes and mind to the destructive,
nonsustainable nature of human sustenance today
and to ecologically sound means of building a so
lar-based society for tomorrow. Our twelve-acre
farm/classroom offers an ideal environment in
which to carry out this exploration. I begin each
program by trying to fnd out where the group is
"coming from" and where they "are at." To com
municate with them effectively, I need to know
what their interests are to best explain how New
Alchemy's work applies to their own lives. I often
use noncompetitive, representational games to break
the ice and to build a community spirit through
cooperative group play. I often turn again to these
games later in the day to communicate concepts
of ecology and energy that are otherwise diffcult
to conceptualize. Games like the "Web of Life,"
"Lap Sit," and "Knots" help develop an appreci
ation and understanding of the interdependence
of life. We build "People Pyramids" while discuss
ing the pyramidal structure and energetics of food
chains, and use the "People Pass" for a working
defnition of energy.
I liked how you put the net over the plants
so the birds and animals couldn't get them.
It was better than killing the birds and
animals.
The fertilizer they used was fsh and leaves.
They don't use the stuff you get in the store
because it contains chemicals that kill the
soil after a long period of time.
Inside the Ark our group did a play. The
play was about two people and their real
izing that wind power is a better source of
energy than electricity, money-wise and en
ergy-wise.
I liked New Alchemy and the things there
like the ark and the dome and the solar
structures. Because you are trying to make
the world a better place to live.
When I went into the Ark and the door was
kept open for a second I thought it was a
waste of energy, then I thought the sun's
power will never run out!
I thought it was interesting when you said
to put our orange and banana peils in the
bucket and this year I'm going to make a
compost pile.
1 liked having lunch in the dome and learn
ing how you can work a garden with only
natural stuff. I think it is really neat the
way you can get energy from the sun, store
it and grow all those nice vegetables and
pretty fowers.
One theory that I found to be interesting
and important was that nothing was done
wlo an understanding of its effect on the
environment.
Like most people I take our natural re
sources for granted.
The important thing they are doing at New
Alchemy is looking to nature as a guide.
As I begin a farm tour, my role progresses from
that of greeter to that of artist/interpreter. I try
to weave the purposes of and meanings behind the
various appropriate technologies demonstrated at
the farm into a cohesive picture. The greatest chal
lenge for me involves putting New Alchemy's work
into perspective. An understanding of why we are
doing what we are doing is essential to seeing the
gardens, windmills, aquaculture ponds, and bio
shelters. Without this emphasis, the day would be
little more than a "show and tell," as most of the
students that visit us are far removed from their
life-support networks. Distant farmers, miners,
manufacturers, and utility companies provide their
needs. Few of them realize the devastating con
sequences of modern technology or how ultimately
dependent they are upon the health of the natural
world for their well being.
At each stop on our journey through the farm,
we explore the relationship between meeting hu
man needs and maintaining a healthy ecological
balance. We play, experiment, eat together, per
for

skits, paint murals, and engage in group dis
cussion. All are encouraged to use their senses as
much as possible. We feel the steaming-hot com
post pile and slimy worms, smell the fragrant herbs
and vegetables, watch the fsh and bees, and taste
The compost pile was interesting in the way
that the sticks and junk turned to fertilizer.
I did not feel saturated with facts as I
usually do afer a day at a museum. Every
thing was part of an integrated system and
what you didn't absorb when touring the
garden you were given again in the Ark,
but from a different perspective.
If the whole world visited New Alchemy then
we could make the earth a better place to
live.
I really like the way you never waste any
thing, not even waste.
I think you conserve a lot, that's great. If
all the people in the world were like you
and conserved so much and used the sun
for energy the world would be so much nicer.
New Alchemy has the best gourds!
some of the garden fruits and vegetables. After
the tour, groups with special interests may partic
ipate in one of a number of the more focused
workshops that build on what has been seen. We
have given workshops to students from elementary
school through college age on computer modeling
of ecosystem dynamics, food politics/vegetarian
ism, solar greenhouse design, integrated pest con
trol management in bioshelters, "living lightly" on
the earth, and appropriate technologies in third
world countries. Whenever possible, a hands-on
job such as planting trees, building a compost pile,
raising a windmill, preparing a vegetarian feast,
or assisting in a fsh harvest is included. By the
end of their time with us we hope to have given
the students a greater sense of their interdepend
ence with the natural world and an increased
awareness of the impact of their own lives on it.
Most of all we want them to leave realizing that
there are healthy, sustainable means of providing
for humanity's needs and feeling that they as in
dividuals can make an important contribution in
helping bring this about.
H Maiay
My work with school groups has given me a
sense of hope for the future. Looking at their art,
I have seen the perceptions of reality of many
young people dramatically restructured at New
Alchemy. In the short time we spend together most
of them are able to grasp the essence of what we
are doing, why we are doing it, and what it means
to them.
I never thought the sun could do so much.
I was thinking on the way back I would like
to make a fsh farm this is my dream. Also
I was thinking that if you can feed thirteen
people for a year in green vegetables if they
could do that in India people would not die
from famine.
Thank you ver much for the tour of NIA.
I enjoyed my visit very much. Especially the
dome because it didn't take any electricity
to heat it which proves that solar energy
works. The ark I really liked, because of the
way you raised the fsh with energy from
the sun.
zz THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
He Maingay
Aoter E Gysy
Tyrone Cashman
Tyrone Cashman chose the title for his article that
follows in reminiscence of one that appeared in our
first joural. It was about earth gypsies and was by
Laura and David Engstrom. Earth gypsy was a
rather romantic term that John Todd had coined for
those of us who chose to be wanderers for a while,
taking with them, as part of them, the ideas and
dreams of all of us. At first Laura found the term
amusing but later confessed to finding it evocative
of the time of her traveling with David.
We have almost all been earth gypsies at one
time or another. John Todd's idea for the Margaret
Mead, a great sailing bioshelter that would be a
sort of ecological Hope Ship, carries the idea a
step further.
Of those who have written of their experiences
for this Joural, Ty has settled in Califoria, where
he has worked for Goveror Brown, and has been
president of the American Wind Energy ,ssocia-
tion. As for David and Laura, their period of wan
dering has given way to a more settled period of
parenthood, a task they share equally. David is still
with New Alchemy. His meticulous analysis of water
chemistry is indispensable to the National Science
Foundation sponsored aquaculture research. In
whatever other time he can find, he is an artist,
working in precious metals and stones. Laura, in
training to become a midwife, is bringing her gentle
nature into the service of returing childbirth to the
woman-defined, woman-controlled, and joyous ex
perience it is again becoming.
In the article that follows, Ty apprises the move
ment of events since his time at New Alchemy,
interweaving them with his own experiences, be
ginning with the time when he was nomadic-an
earth gypsy.
N.J.T.
Hlde Maingay
I put down my ancient copy of the first joumal of
The New Alchemits. I sit on the edge of the West,
in a house clinging to a cliff above the surf of the
Pacifc just north of San Francisco. Red-tailed
hawks, buzzards, and kestrels soar and hunt around
my cliff dwelling. Gulls in ragged flocks do barrel
rolls in the spiraling winter storm winds. Fog fows
inland in summer, coastward in winter. The sun
heats the all-glass house by day and the star-fecked
universe draws at it by night with an infnite hun
ger for heat. We sleep summer and winter in an
open-doored cabin higher up the slope. Wrapped
in fog and sea sounds.
As Laura said in 1 973 in that first journal, "Earth
gypsies we were called (in the previous New Alchemy
Newsletter) and at the time I had to smile at the
ultra-romanticism of it all. Yet now as I feel my
way back to these days on the road the inevitable
nostalgia makes the term seem appropriate after
all."
I guess I relate strongly to this note, written at
the moment in space-time when I became a New
Alchemist. Looking back, over recent years I felt
very much like a gypsy.
I too set out from New Alchemy in a VW van
in the spring of 1 977 to cross the continent, heading
away from home on a voyage with no long-term
destination.
I had only the frst step mapped out. I had been
invited to Green Gulch Farm on the northern Cal
ifornia coast to design and help build a water-
pumping windmill for garden irrigation. It was
during the great California drought. I was a mis
sionary, a traveling Alchemist, sharing in other
gardens the skills, the vision, and the techniques
we had wrestled with on Cape Cod. It was an ap
propriate work. Although we had up to that time
hosted tens of thousands of visitors to our Cape
Cod farm, the Prince Edward Island Ark, and
Costa Rican Center, we had no outreach program
to plant the seeds in other places. I was not sure
that was what I was doing. But I was preparing
to plant a New Alchemy sailwing on other soil.
When New Alchemy was young, the world was
far from what we wanted it to be. Our act was a
shot in the dark, a stab into a future we wanted
and cared for enough for us to do an absurd
thing-try to build it.
In the late sixties there were thousands of young
people protesting the world as it was. It was Im
portant Work. But we saw another important work
to be done: quietly, creatively to nurse the seed
lings of a new world.
When the Green Gulch Sailwing was up and we
had set it free to do its work, I wandered again.
I wandered to the East Coast, Long Island briefly;
and New York City, to the midwest to connect with
the clan, and back to California. Sim Van der Ryn,
the founder of the state of California's Offce of
Appropriate Technology, had seen the windmill
and asked if I might want to work for him in state
government.
I was still ranging the world, an earth gypsy
haunted and inspired by the New Alchemy vision:
we can create a new world in place of the one we
have recently inherited, a world more true to nat
ural systems, gentler, greener, and longer lived,
based on an energy and agriculture that will sustain
our grandchildren as it sustains us.
I drove through the coastal hills by the Pacifc
trying to articulate this vision in the context of a
whole continent that was leading a whole world
along its technological path. It was the fall of 1977.
Looking into the future I suddenly realized that
it was blank. By the side of the road overlooking
valley and sea I put my typewriter on the plywood
bed in the back of the van and tried to describe
what the emptiness must mean.
I recalled a course many years ago with Margaret
Mead; a phrase of hers had struck me then: "We
are between theories in anthropology now." Again
I recalled an early image, as a theater major at St.
Louis University, sitting before an empty stage with
a spotlight lighting the bareness. Bateson's "ran
dom space" essential to all creativity; Lao Tsu's
empty bowl and wheel hub; the void of the Zen
Masters. The power of the emptiness of that bare
stage has stayed with me.
2
4
Out of these images, the vision of our unique
historical place came home to me. As it emerged
I remembered Dick Gregory's comment during the
Vietnam War: "I f our democracy was what we
claim it to be, we wouldn't have to force it on
people with rifes. They would steal it for
themselves. "
I went t o work for the state of California as a
member of Sim's Offce of Appropriate Technol
ogy. There I met young men and women from
various parts of the country most of whom had
come from small alterative groups: Tilth maga
zine, Ecotope, Turkey Run Farm outside Wash
ington, Institute for Local Self Reliance, United
Farm Workers Union, Co-Evolution QuaTtedy, Fa
rallones. It was an odd assortment for a gover
mental offce. Our mandate was to serve the other
state agencies helping to implement energy-saving
architecture and equipment, to be critics, design
ers, and proponents. We were to help as we could
within this vast structure to show the way for small
scale, environmentally benign systems.
We were another culture. The traditional system
tried to eject us with an immune reaction. Both
our idealism and our unfamiliarity with how things
get done in great bureaucracies got in our way.
But we slogged on. And things began to happen.
A passively heated and cooled offce building was
built. A frst-cut design for a mixed-use, energy
and water-conserving neighborhood for downtown
Sacramento was developed. The Water Resources
Control Board was infuenced. Drought-tolerant
gardens were created in Sacramento. Solar heating
training programs were initiated. On-site sewage
systems were proposed and implemented. Large
tax credits for solar and wind energy systems were
passed. Another way of doing things had begun
to be recognized in the mainstream of California
culture.
And this is our task. I feel that New Alchemy
remains as a tuning fork, setting a tone of holistic
food and energy systems on a small scale. That
tuning fork needs to continue to be heard; that
research must continue to develop.
Here we are now in the 1 98os. Our original vision
of running low on oil and the possibilities of armed
confict over what is our present world's life blood,
is on the horizon. We saw this ten years ago. We
gave our nerve and sinew to getting tooled up, to
preparing another path down which a nation and
a world could go instead of seeing only the nar
rower options of war, national emergency, and
martial law.
We saw that by the time the nation perceived
its own energy bind it would be too late unless
there had been those who had seen it early and
prepared the path. The time for strong labor was
early. Either we would make it or we wouldn't. We
didn't know.
And here we are. Did we do it, we along with
the other individuals, small groups and associations
from coast to coast? I think we've come close. I
think the original courage and audacity to attempt
such a transformation of culture has paid off more
than could have been expected.
Just look at the core alternative food and energy
complex: homes-solar-wind-gardens. We know that
America is a nation of TV watchers. It is our num
ber-one recreational pastime. But now the second
most common off-work pastime is gardening. The
Gallup organization found in 1979 that out of 78
million American households, 68 million watch TV
and 61 million practice some sort of horticulture.
Of these, 33 million raise food-carrots, cabbage,
cantaloupe, etc.-in backyards or community gar
dens. Food gardening is practiced by more people
than vacationing, fshing, home workshop using,
bicycling, jogging, bowling, photography, and on
and on. As we've always said at New Alchemy,
knowing how to garden is the best skill-base for
holistic self-reliant food and energy systems.
We cannot credit New Alchemy, nor all the al
ternative organizations put together, for the spread
of gardening, but it is a very encouraging sign for
the future that the American people are already
practicing the key skill that the addition of more
commonland space and solar greenhousing can
turn into decentralized, partial support systems.
Even the economics are already good. The total
retail value of produce from American gardens
was $1 3 billion. The average cost per garden was
$1 9. The average dollar yield per garden was $367.
The rrost widely available home energy resource
is conservation. Then come solar and wind. Many
states have introduced programs to encourage the
use of solar and wind energy. The federal gov
ernment has passed tax credits for this kind of
equipment. These credits are being increased. Two
major pieces of federal legislation have dictated
that the nation's major utilities must offer energy
audits to their customers and arrange for fnancing
of solar and wind energy equipment, if, after the
audit, the family decides they would like to use
these renewable resources. In addition, utilities
now must buy power from small power producers
who use renewable resources, and must pay rea
sonable rates for that power. This greatly aids the
economics of the household wind energy system,
since the utility will now act as a storage battery.
In 1 974atNew Alchemy I would not have expected
changes this radical in so few years. And I have
no doubt, after my peregrinations as an earth
gypsy, that New Alchemy, standing as a tuning
fork, sending out this pure note into the world
5
around, has had a lot to do with this. That note
has been heard in Congress, often to the conster
nation of the Department of Energy. Nearly every
where I go the name of New Alchemy is known
and respected, and often generates that spark of
life and enthusiasm that even a small beginning
that brings hope can elicit. These tiny notes we've
been humming in different spots around the na
tion are resonating.
But now is the new era. Shortages are upon us.
Swords are rattling. Let us take heart again, take
another deep breath and join with all those who
have heard and will carry forward the refounding
of America.
New Achemy ad
Ecoevelopment i Cost Rca
William 0. McLarney
Who knows where the work of wntmg begins?
Certainly not at the precisely defnable moment
when pen frst touches paper, but earlier, in some
process of thought or perception. This piece may
have begun one evening as I lay in the hammock
on the elevated porch of our house in Gandoca,
Costa Rica.* The rhythmic sound of the Caribbean
surf, often wild, or even menacing when heard
*The New Alchemy Institute has a small sister organization in Costa
Rica. Founded by Bill McLarney with the offcial and working title
of NAISA, it is conducting small-scale, local experiments in aqua

culture, agriculture, and tree crops. NAISA's primary motivation is
to be useful to the people of its community and protective of the
resources of the area, particularly the forests.
from the beach, seems peaceful and reassuring
from just a few yards inland. It merges with other
familiar sounds of nature-the song of the pamque
(a sort of tropical whippoorwill), the sarcastic voice
of the night heron that raids our fsh ponds, the
electric call of the toad Bufo mminus. The sounds
integrate with the visual images-silhouettes of the
feathery coconut frond, the almond tree with its
branches "stacked" in layers, the proud new and
tattered old banana leaves, the bamboo with its
own whispering sound and its constantly dropping
leaves, which spin or oscillate like coins sinking in
water. The exotic, yet tranquil, mood of such hours
touches all our time here.
26
Or this piece of writing may have been conceived
a few hundred yards from the hammock, on the
beach, where Susan and I discovered the frst small
globs of crude oil that appeared for a while along
the coast between Puerto Viejo and Gandoca Bar,
and maybe farther. It was a small "spill" of un
known origin, and the only discernible victims have
been our tempers, as we cleaned our shoes. But
it is a reminder that we are not so isolated as we
might like to think and that delightful as medi
tation in the hammock may be, it is not my work.
An hour and a half by foot from where the
hammock hangs, in the magnifcent virgin forest
that covers half of our new inland farm, one does
not hear the sea. But if one listens carefully, one
can hear bulldozers at work destroying natural for
est, harvestable cacao, and, perhaps most signif
cantly, Costa Rican topsoil in hope of fnancial
proft. That sound is another reminder.
These reminders are not pleasant, but they serve
to put our daily efforts in a context; the importance
of what we are attempting to do becomes clear.
We are attempting to work together with our cam
pesino neighbors in the faith that the environmental
problems we have been trained to see and worry
about and the survival problems they confront
daily have a common solution. They said, "Dona
no hay problemas, no hay vida. El gusto de la vida es
Tesolver problemas. " (Where there are no problems,
there is no life. The fun of life is in solving prob
lems.) I hope some of that attitude will emerge in
this article, that it will help inspire some other
worrywart conservationist or developer to see a
particular problem in a greater context and small
solutions merging in a greater solution.
The article will draw on my piece on Latin
America in the ffth joumal of the New Alchemists.
In that piece, I expressed some concern that Latin
American campesinos could become "totally alien
ated from the ecology movement." I am pleased
to report that, in our part of Costa Rica at least,
the opposite has happened-campesinos are becom
ing more sensitive to ecology issues. Elsewhere I
see the appropriate technology movement starting
to reach the campesino. And a recent visit to Nic
aragua suggested that a government more oriented
to public welfare on a bread basis will also be a
more ecologically sensitive government. But that
is a larger context.
In my previous article I also invoked the single
issue that has most concerned revolutionaries, re
formers, and reactionaries in Latin America-land
distribution. Here, making reference to a portion
of Costa Rica that I shall defne as "Coastal Tal
amanca,"' I shall examine present and possible
future patterns of land tenure and use and their
probable effects on ecological and social conditions.
For our purposes, Coastal Talamanca may be
divided into three parts of roughly equal size. The
Sixaola River valley, to which the Bribris fed after
their conquest by Spaniards and Mosquito Indians,
is, or was, the most fertile land in Coastal Tala
manca. The last conquest of the Bribris saw them
driven from the Sixaola valley by the United Fruit
Company. Today the Indians live in the moun
tains, and various offshoots of the conquering
multinational still control all but the lowermost
portion of the valley.
A second portion of fatland, mostly along the
coast but extending up the Sixaola valley to Mata
de Limon, is almost entirely in the hands of small
farmers. The nearer reaches of the hills separating
the coastal plain from the river valley are also in
the hands of campesinos, but the more remote por
tions are in large blocks owned for the most part
by absentees. By virtue of their inaccessibility they
have remained in natural forest.
The history of the fruit company lands since the
ouster of the Indians has been one of intermittent
agricultural activity and abandonment, with occa
sional episodes of violence. The valley has not seen
the last of violence; in 1 g8o a group of p,eca,-istas
(squatters) invaded company land near Margarita,
erected makeshift houses and had to be forcibly
expelled. This promises to be just the frst of a
series of confrontations.
What is the value of La Campania's 1 1 ,ooo hec
tares to present-day Costa Rica? No one had ever
tried to claim that the dominant crops (traditionally
bananas and now African oil palm) contribute di
rectly to the nourishment of Costa Ricans. For
merly it could be said that some employment was
provided, though it was often tantamount to en
slavement.2 (In the 1 950s the United Fruit Com
pany realized more profts in Central America
from sales to its workers at its commissaries than
from sale of its products.) Today the operation is
much less labor intensive than before, and such
stoop labor as exists goes to poverty-stricken Pan
amanian Indians, who will work for less than Costa
Ricans. The arguments usually made for the con
tinued presence of the fruit companies in Costa
1"Talamanca," a Bribri Indian term meaning "place of blood," in
spired by the aboriginal inhabitanlS' early contaclS with European
"civilization" and gi\'en added weight by the beha\'ior of the fruit
companies in the early part of this century, is \'ariously applied in
current usage. Politically, it implies the wu/611 (cUill)') of Talamanca,
a component of Lim6n pro"ince. In popular use. it is ofte11 restricted
to the Talamanca mountains and valley. inhabited primarily by Bribri
and Cabecar Indians. My usage of "CoaSlal Talamanca" roughly in
dicates that portion of Costa Rica bounded by the Rio Estrella, a line
drawn from Pandora 1 Bribri, the Rio Sixaola, and the Caribbean
Sea.
' I f you read Spanish, the classic fictionalized account of life on a
fruit company farm in Coastal Talamanca is Carlos Luis Fallas's Ma
mila Yuuai. 1
97
8. San Jose, Costa Rica: Libreria Lehmann, 222 pp.
Rica are couched in terms of "balance of payments"
or "foreign exchange." These arguments have
been attacked many times as apologies for eco
nomic colonialism; perhaps the best case is made
by Galeano.3
For my part, I would like to submit that in the
long run the current fruit company project will
prove to be an economic liability for Costa Rica.
To understand why I believe this, one must know
a bit of the history of the region, and one really
should see modern fruit company agriculture. I
shall try to convey the essence of it.
I leave Mata de Limon on foot, headed to Six
aola, which happens to be the location of the near
est phone. Just across Quebrada Mata de Limon
I pass a battered orange metal sign that declares,
"Chiriqui Land Company." At that point I enter
abandoned company cacao lands. The shade trees
customarily planted with cacao have grown tall;
the understory is flled in. Howler monkeys bellow
from the treetops. The whole incredible array of
tropical birds, insects, and fowering trees i s on
display.
Mature cacao farms are not only productive and
attractive agricultural land, they are a seminatural
environment that conserves soil, moderates cli
mate, and supports a great diversity of other plants
and wildlife. These abandoned cacao lands are a
joy to walk through. With the investment of a cer
tain amount of hand labor they could be made
productive; they could produce an export crop,
provide employment, be harvested for wood and
food crops and protect the land for generations
to come. But someone has determined (I suppose)
that bananas and African palm oil will be even
more "proftable" in the short run. And I can hear
the bulldozers.
Soon I enter the desert. The bulldozers are at
work removing cacao trees, overstory, understory
every living thing. Only a few of the largest trees
are left for the chain saw and the ax. Smash! At
a place called Bananera one of the last survivors,
a lovely old nispero, bedecked with orchids, comes
crashing down on a still-livable house, formerly the
home of an ancient lady, Dona Nena, who dealt
in herbal remedies.
A few hardwood trees are set aside, but most of
the vegetation is pushed into windrows. The pro
cess inevitably results in scraping away most of the
topsoil, especially where the terrain is uneven.
When it rains the creeks run full and red, especially
since the bulldozer operators pay no heed to the
Costa Rican law that prohibits cutting any tree
' Edurado Galeano. ' 973 Ope11 Vei11s of Lnti11 Amtricn: Fitr Celllurirs of
the Pillage of a Co11tillml. Translated by Cedric Belfrage. New York
and London: Monthly Review Press. 3 1 3 pp.
within ffty meters of a watercourse. Further drain
age is achieved by ditches; where it is more con
venient, the natural watercourses are straightened.
As I walk on in the broiling desert sun, a howler
monkey calls his defiance from the edge of the
woods. Tonight, when I return, the tree in which
he sits will be gone; when the weather is dry, the
bulldozers work from dawn to dusk. Between me
and the forest there is literally not a living leaf of
vegetation to be seen, just hot, dry earth.
A little farther on, I enter a zone that had been
cleared earlier. Seedlings of African oil palm have
already been set out in monotonous fles. Mirac
ulously, a fair growth of grass is sprouting from
the subsoil between the palm rows. Juan Lopez,
the 1 2-year-old son of neighbors in Mata de Limon,
has enterprisingly driven his father's small herd
of cattle into this temporary "pasture." Perhaps
later it will be eliminated with herbicide.
Still later, I enter a more established agricultural
zone, planted to bananas. Taller monotony, punc
tuated by mountains of perfectly edible but "sub
standard" bananas, rejected to rot in the sun or
be recycled by vultures.
As of this writing (April 1 g8o) the destruction has
stopped; rumor has it that it will resume when the
profts start rolling in. For now perhaps three
fourths of the company lands remain in one or
another form of second growth and abandonment.
From a campesino viewpoint, mass invasion seems
logical-to let the land stand as it is, with second
growth gradually choking out the untended cacao,
seems a waste. To "develop" it company style may
prove to be a greater waste.
There is much in what I have described to invoke
tears, frustration, or anger. The people of Gan
doca and Mata de Limon are concered that de
forestation will exacerbate the cycle of food and
drought, already presumed to be worsening be
cause of deforestation in the Talamanca valley and
a dike, built by the fruit company, that extends
along the Panamanian side of the Rio Sixaola from
Guabito to California and tends to defect food
waters to the Costa Rican side. They are also wor
ried that in the future company use of pesticides
and herbicides could adversely affect their own
crops, natural environments, or health. The en
viromentalist must be moved by the destruction of
wildlife and natural vegetation at a scale and pace
that should not be accessible to humans. The land
less peasant sees the abandoned seventy-fve per
cent and dreams of occupation. The aesthete need
only contrast the abandoned cacao land or the
farms of Mata de Limon and Gandoca with the
monotony of company agriculture. The nutrition
ist might point out that African palm oil is one of
the least desirable cooking oils and that company
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bananas are destined for overfed gringos. Any per
son with a moral sense would protest the apparent
impunity of the fruit companies before Costa Rican
law and the waste of edible bananas in a poor
country. Any thinking person should deplore the
lopsided emphasis on short-term profts that per
mits the destruction of an ecologiclly benign ag
riculture (cacao) in favor of a depleting one (mon
oculture of bananas or African oil palm).
But for me the greatest outrage is the destruc
tion of topsoil. This case need not be presented
on aesthetic, legal, or moral grounds, though it
could be. I t can be argued in purely economic
terms. A concept that is scarcely original but needs
to be invoked is that topsoil is capital. Granted that
as in business one can replace lost capital; so one
can sometimes restore topsoil. But even a con
servative estimate of the amounts of time, energy,
and money necessary to accomplish some sort of
restoration should dictate that topsoil be guarded
even more zealously than fnancial capital, espe
cially in the tropics, where even on virgin land the
topsoil layer is dangerously thin.
The largely uneducated and sometimes illiterate
campesinos of Gandoca and Mata de Limon would
not commit such folly. Are we to suppose, then,
that they are possessed of a degree of ecological
comprehension unattained by company agrono
mists? Unlikely. Certainly among the company's
staff are some who know something about topsoil;
certainly they understand better than the campesino
the long-range risk of trying to maintain crops with
chemical fertilizers. One simply must believe that
a decision has been made to sacrifce much of the
productivity of the Sixaola valley in the long run
to achieve fnancial profts in the short run.
Such a policy has precedent. The present com
pany lands have previously been abandoned for
long periods due to various combinations of dis
ease, exhausted soils, and labor problems that
made banana operations uneconomical. That this
history is being allowed to repeat itself is evidence
of the lack of concern by certain powers that be
for real human needs (nutrition, soil conservation,
environmental health, and stability), and of the
economic bind in which countries like Costa Rica
fnd themselves. Judged on their own terms, the
banana and oil palm projects may turn out to be
proftable; the same lands returned a proft in the
thirties. But where are the cost sheets showing that
profit balanced against the virtual lack of produc
tion on the same land for periods of twenty-fve
years or more? Has any economist attempted to
allow for the probable eventual demise of the proj
ect and to put a value on the topsoil that is being
lost? Has anyone ventured to compare the boom
and-bust economy of the early fruit company days
to what might have been achieved by a stable ag
riculture, perhaps cacao based, over the same pe
riod of years? What about the social costs of the
peon system compared to the family farms of which
Costa Rica is so proud?
What can be done about this misuse of land?
Not much, it seems, in the short run. Perhaps with
legal help some sort of injunction could be ob
tained against clearcutting water courses. Perhaps
our ecologist friends will help us monitor chemical
pollution in the regions bordering the company
lands. But these are popguns against cannons.
The prospect is this: the project will yield a cer
tain amount of beneft to Costa Rica for an in
determinate number of years, which beneft will
be at least partly offset by ecological and social
problems created by the project. Eventually, Costa
Rica will be left with one of her best pieces of
agricultural land virtually useless. Granted, it may
be possible to "restore" such land to a degree; the
cost at that time will almost certainly exceed any
short-term economic gain to the country as a
whole. And the Costa Rican people will have that
much less chance to secure their own nutrition;
they will be that much more dependent on outside
aid and investment, and the cycle will continue.
Even if we discount the aboriginal inhabitants,
the history of small farming in Coastal Talamanca
is longer than that of the companies; it has also
been more stable. In communities like Cahuita and
Puerto Viejo, farms go back seventy years in the
same family. During this time, the land has re
mained productive, if not yielding cash crops then
producing locally needed foods.
The dominant agriculture, from Penshurst to
Gandoca, is cacao. Although cacao is an export
crop, offering no nutritional benefts to the Costa
Rican people, it has the considerable advantage of
being eminently manageable by the small farmer.
Furthermore, cacao farming as conventionally
practiced produces an environment very analogous
to that of the natural forest. For those unfamiliar
with cacao, let me elaborate. Cacao is planted in
fairly dense stands, with the trees three to four
meters apart. The trees, which can survive up to
ninety years, spread to provide nearly total shade,
and produce a continual "mulch" of fair-sized
leaves. Cacao is said to do best with about forty
percent shade above it, so it is customary when
starting a cacao farm to leave other desirable trees
in place, or to plant lumber or food trees. The end
result is close enough to the natural forest that
according to local wisdom the soil in an established
cacao farm is equivalent to virgin forest soil.
Cacao has served the inhabitants of Coastal Tal
amanca well, enabling them to enjoy a standard
of living somewhat above that of the campesinos in
other parts uf Costa Rica. More important, it has
enabled local farmers to maintain soil fertility and
pass their lands on in the family.
But for almost as long as there has been cacao
farming in Coastal Talamanca, farmers have wor
ried about the economic and ecological hazards of
a monoculture. This concern became more than
conjectural in December 1978, when the frst cases of
the fungus disease moniliasis were reported from
Fortuna, in the Estrella valley above Penshurst. In
October 1 979 the disease was discovered in Mata de
Lim6n; it can now be said to be ubiquitous in the
zone. Moniliasis does not kill the tree, but renders
the fruit worthless for chocolate production.
The local farmers' cooperative, Coopetalamanca,
has provided expert advice and technical assist
ance, and through a combination of physical and
chemical control, losses may be minimized. Never
theless, a "best case" projection for most farmers
is a twenty-fve percent drop in production, that
with greatly increased intensity of management.
The problem is exacerbated by the fact that some
farmers, unable or unwilling to maintain the nec
essary vigilance, have left their cacao in a state of
semiabandonment, thus providing foci of infection
for neighboring farms. (By far the greatest ex
panse of neglected cacao is of course the fruit com
pany's.) Some farmers are already talking of selling
out. The next few years will determine whether
cacao will continue to play a major role in the life
of Coastal Talamanca.
Even before the advent of moniliasis, it was clear
that part of the key to the future lay in diversif
cation. One of the forms of diversifcation most
frequently discussed has been a more formal ap
proach to interplanting hardwood trees with cacao.
NAISA has devoted some energy to this project,
but characteristically certain of our neighbors are
ahead of us. The most commonly planted hard
wood tree is laurel (Cordia Alliadom), the most pop
ular local wood for construction, but various farm
ers are also working with manu (Guarea hof niano),
which yields posts that may last ffty years in the
ground; cedro real (Cedrela fossilis), second to laurel
as a construction wood; jenizaro (Pithecolobium sa
man), a high-quality cabinet wood; melina (Gmelina
JO
arbo-rea), a rapid grower imported from Africa,
cedro ammo (Cedrela mexicana), and cativo (PTioria
copaiem), particularly suited to low, wet places.
All ages are involved in hardwood planting,
from teenagers to senior members of the com
munity. Matute, at 62, has chosen to plant manu,
which may take thirty years to produce a harvest
able tree. He says he does so for his children, and
because the aspect of agriculture he most enjoys
is watching the young plants. This is the attitude
of husbandry, which, if nourished and encour
aged, will preserve and develop the lowland tropics
as no corporate or governmental effort can.
Hardwood cultivation, while it may contribute
to the economic development and stability of Coastal
Talamanca, is ultimately a labor of love. Now that
the theoretical perils of monoculture have become
real, there is a need for more immediate solutions
to economic problems. These solutions can take
three forms:
1 . Development of alternative cash crops.
2. Development of means of transport and process
ing for products that are available but presently unmar
ketable.
3 Greater emphasis on individual and regional self
suffciency i n food production.
Hardwood trees represent the most long-term
solution conceivable to the cash-crop problem.
Many of our neighbors are working at the opposite
extreme, with quick-yielding annual food crops.
Exploration of intermediate options is the subject
of a proposal submitted to the Dutch government
by NAISA and Coopetalamanca. We have taken
the position that a "solution" that yields profts in
the short run while degrading the land in the long
run is no solution at all. The great majority of local
farmers concur. For instance, conversion of cacao
land to cattle pasture might be economically ad
vantageous in the short run, but as Costa Rican
campesinos elsewhere have learned from bitter ex
perience, it would create poverty in the long run.
We speak of ecology and conservation; our neigh
bors worry about their children. It comes down to
the same thing.
In the more remote communities of Coastal
Talamanca such as ours, the possibilities of eco
nomic diversifcation are sharply limited by the
diffculty of transport. (We estimate that soo,ooo
oranges rot on the ground annually in Gandoca
and Mata de Limon.) The conventional approach
to this problem is to construct farm-to-market
roads, a subject that will be taken up later in this
article. A less conventional approach taken by the
community development association of Mata de
Limon and Gandoca with the help of NAISA was
to secure a grant from Catholic Relief Services to
construct a motor launch to serve the coastal com
munities. Construction of this launch has suffered
a series of setbacks, partly due to the shortage of
suitable wood, but it may yet assume an important
role. A partial solution to the transport problem
could be effected by establishment of processing
facilities for perishable products in a central lo
cation like Puerto Viejo. The NAISA-Coopetala
manca proposal includes funds to begin this work.
In the short run, with the decline of cacao the
most critical task becomes subsistence. This chal
lenge is being met more successfully in Gandoca
and Mata de Limon, the newest and poorest of the
Coastal Talamanca communities, than in the es
tablished cacao towns farther up the coast, where
young landowners in particular are more apt to
think of selling out than of growing food or seek
ing alternatives. "They've been too rich too long,"
laugh the farmers of our community as they plant
a few more beans or a field of pineapples, or dig
a fsh pond.
NAISA's original mison d'et7e in Coastal Tala
manca was to aid and participate in ecologically
oriented development, hence the cash crop di
versification proposal, the aquaculture project, the
struggle to construct the launch. These efforts will
continue, but we and our neighbors see that no
matter how much success we achieve in develop
ment projects, the future of the coast depends on
what happens in the forested and sparsely popu
lated hill lands. That in turn depends on the de
velopment strategies adopted by the national gov
ernment and the fruit company. And so we have
had to acknowledge another facet in the struggle
for ecological development and modify our work
strategy accordingly.
Much of that portion of the hill land that belongs
to campesinos is untouched or lightly used. Where
it has been cleared, it is a refection neither of
physical need nor pecuniary greed but of Costa
Rican law. In Costa Rica, as in most Latin American
countries, ownership of land is established by "im
provement." (The alternative is an expensive pro
cess involving surveyors and lawyers, which cam
pesinos simply cannot afford.) "Improvement"
implies visible modifcation of the natural environ
ment. Thus deforestation becomes virtu:IIy a pre
requisite for security of tenure. In the more remote
communities boundary lines are drawn and main
tained on a basis of neighborly respect reinforced
by community pressure; the need for "improve
ment'' is less. But as frontier regions open up,
community control breaks down and the pressure
on the campesino to deforest land, even though he
has no immediate plans to use it, increases. The
other great impetus for deforestation is, of course,
the cash value of lumber.
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 JI
Until a couple of years ago, neither factor was
of great moment in Coastal Talamanca. But the
re-entry of the fruit company has altered the equa
tion. Among the projects undertaken in the wake
of the reactivation of agribusiness in the Sixaola
valley was the construction of a highway from Bri
bri to the Panamanian border at Sixaola. With the
completion of this highway, Coastal Talamanca is
now linked with the Panamanian port of Almirante
and with Limon, San Jose and the rest of Central
and North America. I n 1970, to travel by land from
San Jose to Sixaola required taking a train to
Limon, passing the night there, catching another
train to Penshurst, crossing the Rio Estrella in a
canoe, catching a bus to Bribri and fnally boarding
a third, sporadically scheduled and exasperatingly
slow train to the border. Today the journey can
be accomplished in six hours by car or in a single
day by bus.
One of the frst tangible results of opening up
the new road was the utter deforestation of the
hills between Puerto Viejo and Bribri; a beautiful
piece of countryside was converted into a series of
sterile and unstable slopes.
Naturally, in the wake of the new road those
communities not yet served by roads began to pe
tition for them. Manzanillo asked for a road from
Puerto Viejo. The frst response was to project a
"tourist" road along the beach, which would have
destroyed many of the coconut plantations of that
area and cut the people off from their own beaches.
Manzanillo people would prefer a service road, not
a tourist road, passing well in back of their houses.
Gandoca and Mata de Limon are actively sup
porting the construction of just such a road on the
site of the footpath connecting these communities
with the existing highway. This could be done eas
ily and without disturbing a square meter of nat
ural or agricultural land.
At present the "offcial" plan, as far as anyone
can learn, seems to be to concede Manzanillo's
wishes for a road back from the sea, but to extend
this road on into Gandoca and Mata de Limon,
although the land in between is virtually uninhab
ited and no one is greatly concerned to be able to
travel by highway between Gandoca and Manzan
illo. (People I have talked with in San Jose insist
this is "important." No one in the communities that
would be affected expresses any desire for it.) The
only "reason" for the road is to provide an alter
nate route between Sixaola and Puerto Viejo. Un
less one looks at the forest, that is. Presumably the
forest is also a factor in the road now being pushed
through from Margarita to Punta Uva, despite the
lack of even one house or farm in that stretch.
Are these roads inevitable? And if they are, will
they inevitably lead to deforestation on a massive
scale? Theoretically, deforestation can be pre
vented, since the Forest Service of the Costa Rican
Ministry of Agriculture has the power to issue or
deny permits for timber sales. In the past year they
have let it be known that they do not wish to issue
permits to cut and sell timber in the Coastal Tal
amanca region. Despite the lack of enforcement
personnel, the campesinos have honored this pro
hibition; of some hundred landholders in our area,
I know of two who have participated in illegal
cutting.
Yet timber contractors are active in the region,
and lumber is being sold, in some cases through
the fruit company. The company has built a saw
mill near Mata de Limon and a timber contractor
Bil Mcaughlon
was recently seen in Gandoca asking about possible
sawmill sites in places remote from any road and
at least three miles from the nearest tree that could
legally be cut. It is fairly obvious that some of the
large landholders nearby are either illegally ob
taining permits or cutting in defiance of the gov
ernment.
The ecological threat thus posed is immense; we
are talking about no less than every last inch of
watershed for all the Coastal Talamanca commu
nities from Cahuita to Gandoca. We are also speak
ing of a considerable wildlife and aesthetic re
source. For instance, the swamp behind Manzanillo
and Punta Mona is, according to Dr. Joseph Tosi
of the Tropical Science Center in San Jose, an o1e
(Campnospenna panamensis) swamp-the only one
of its kind in Central America and perhaps the last
haunt of tapirs in southeastern Costa Rica. The
Rio Gandoca may be the only major spawning
ground for tarpon in Costa Rica; not too long ago
manatees were seen there.
The citizens of the coastal communities care
about watersheds and wildlife. They care that de
velopment proceeds in a way that includes them
and their children, rather than rendering their life
style unsustainable. They ask why the fruit com
pany can clear every last vestige of vegetation from
a streambank, when the campesino is restrained to
leave the trees on either side. It is not that they
question the wisdom of the forestry laws, but they
do question the wisdom of a legislature that de
bates banning the importation of chainsaws while
companies and contractors destroy expanses of
virgin forest with bulldozers. All they ask is that,
as the community development association of Mata
de Limon and Gandoca put it in a letter to Pres
ident Carazo, "La ley debe que ser egual pam todos. "
(The law should be the same for everyone.)
Who knows if the campesinos will triumph in the
essentially political battle against the company, tim
ber contractors, and large landholders. At least,
you might say, they can act on their own convic
tions and preserve that portion of forested land
that belongs to them. Not necessarily.
To illustrate the complexity of the problem, let
me refer to NAISA's new property in Mata de
Limon. Two years ago, we purchased 1 1 0 hectares,
located directly behind Matute's farm, from a man
well known in the community and resident in the
neighboring village of San Miguel. Back in the
good old days before roads he had made minimal
"improvements," including clearing a portion for
pasture, planting a few fruit trees, fencing a small
piece, and constructing a makeshift house. Much
of the land is still in virgin forest. Our plan was
and is to leave that forest intact as a wildlife reserve
for our own enjoyment and because it constitutes
a major watershed area for two creeks. We have
the backing of the local community in this goal.
At the time of purchase NAISA had next to no
money, so we planted a few more fruit trees and
cleaned the trochas (paths cut through the forest
and planted at intervals with a brilliant red plant
known as sangu de dmgo, used to delineate bound
aries, to indicate possessiqn while awaiting funding
of projects for the cleared portion of the farm.
In August 1 979 Elena Matute noticed a group of
strangers passing through the Matute farm on
their way to our land. When her husband went to
investigate, he found eleven men hard at work
clearing part of the farm. They declared that the
land was abandoned. Matute insisted it was not,
that he himself had been planting trees there on
behalf of NAISA. The upshot of the encounter
was a long series of visits to the police station in
Sixaola, phone calls to San Jose, and so forth. In
the process both Jim Lynch and Matute were of
fered bribes to look . the other way while the farm
was lumbered. Our fruit trees were destroyed,
fences cut, tTochas cut through the farm, and so
forth. We learned that a neighbor (the proverbial
bad apple in the Mata de Limon barrel) was of
fering logistic support to the invaders, who were
directed by a timber contractor. (He is now trying
to get at the Manzanillo swamp. )
We were forced to hire a full-time caretaker,
Rafael Mora Sosa, to live on site, though we can
scarcely pay him. (Rafa has turned out to be a gem,
the silver lining to the situation. ) One day Rafa
encountered our bad neighbor, the timber con
tractor, several people from the sawmill, and an
agent for ITCO (more about ITCO in a minute)
walking around the property, obviously sizing up
the lumber potential. The ITCO man ordered
Rafa to stop work. More phone calls, visits to law
yers, and so on and so on. Today, ten months later,
the problem remains unresolved.
In a way, the community is fortunate that this
happened to us first. Poor as NAISA is, we can at
least afford to go to town to complain or talk to
a lawyer. And regrettable though it may be, the
fact is that we can open doors in San Jose that
might be closed to the campesino. We have thus
been able to help draw the predicament of our
neighbors to the attention of the government and
press. But victory is not certain. We are proceeding
with titling our land, but the process could take
years and cost over $1 ,ooo. And even if we get our
title, that offers no protection whatsoever to the
rest of the community.
Should we and the community ultimately win
this round against the timber contractors, we are
faced with another threat in which, paradoxically,
ITCO is involved. I say paradoxically because
ITCO (Instituto de Tierras y Colonizaci6n) was
created to be the bureaucratic answer to campesino
land titling problems. In theory, a campesino claim
ing a previously untitled piece of land can, by "im
proving" it and making payments to ITCO over
a period of years, gain title to the land. In practice
things have not worked so smoothly. In April 1 979
hundreds of carnpesinos from all over Limon prov
ince demonstrated in front of the ITCO office in
San Jose, demanding that something be done
about titling their land.
The current problem in Coastal Talamanca stems
from a lawsuit in another part of Costa Rica be
tween ITCO and a speculator, in which the spec
ulator won a judgment of something close to 20
million colones ($2 .3 million). Now the fact is that
ITCO doesn't have that kind of money. So the
plan is to pay the speculator in timber rights.
Any clear day you can see a small plane fying
over Gandoca surveying the "improved" and "un
improved" land. The latter is to be delivered to
the speculator. After he and the timber contractors
have gotten their satisfaction the land is to be
turned over to others. Some 300 hectares along the
Rio Gandoca are slated to become a cattle ranch,
with the backing of the industrial livestock division
of the Ministry of Agriculture. Most of this land
appears on ITCO maps as a "national reserve. " No
one in Gandoca has ever heard of such a reserve,
and several families believe they own this land.
Other pieces are to be carved up into lots by ITCO
to help solve another of their pressing problems
the constant demand for land by "landless peas
ants," some of them legitimate refugees from
places like Guanacaste or El Salvador, others merely
small-scale speculators themselves. From the Co
des Indian Reserve to the Rio Sixaola, campesinos
are waking up to fnd new t1ocltas dividing up the
land they have held and protected for years-over
ffty years in some cases.
What is at stake in Coastal Talamanca is the fate
of land, soils, families, ecosystems-in a word, the
future. Among the participants in the drama now
being played out, it is the campesinos who behave
as if there were a future here. They have never
heard the word ecolog, but in their concern for
forests, soils, and waters, and in their daily lives
as farmers, they live ecology.
At the other extreme, the fruit company, insofar
as it is involved in what happens in the forested
hills of Coastal Talamanca, and the timber con
tractors and speculators are denying the future of
the zone. They know the consequences of their
plans, but their job is to extract resources for sale
and let the natives take care of themselves. If there
is a future, for them it is somewhere else.
A friend at the University of Costa Rica, Dr.
Alvaro Umana, is giving a seminar on "ecology
and world peace." He will fnd much of interest
in Coastal Talamanca. To say that there is resent
ment by the campesinos who wish to live here in
peace would be an understatement; there is al
ready talk of violence. Whether or not violence
comes to pass, allll uo matter its effect, the point
is that the old colonial scenario is being re-enacted.
By "colonial" I refer to extractive exploitation of
resources for the beneft primarily of outsiders,
without reference to nations or nationalities. I f
colonialism of resources i s a form of aggression,
then its opposite, which is ecological husbandry,
is the pursuit of peace. In the light of recent events
in the history of Central America, all concered
would do well to ponder this.
By the time this article appears in print, many
critical events will have passed in Coastal Tala
manca. The purpose of publication is not to rally
support for our cause, but to point out something
that has come to pass in Coastal Talamanca and
will, if it has not already, in other Latin American
rural zones. For lack of a better phrase, I will use
the jargonesque term "consciousness raising." In
my short time here, I have seen the ecological con
sciousness of the campesino rise greatly. The cam
pesino has always lived close to nature, but he has
suffered, along with the rest of us, from the notion
that the only limitations on the degree to which
nature can be manipulated are the limitations on
our own power. But in the last few years, the cam
pesinos have seen rainfall patters altered by de
forestation. They have seen soils depleted and
ecosystems upset by chemical agriculture and cattle
ranching. They have seen the frontier disappear
before their eyes. They have watched creatures
disappear that they took for granted and found
they missed them. They have lived what you and
I have gleaned from piles of data. In spite of the
fact that campesinos have wielded little power com
pared to the affuent, mobile machine-wielding
colonist, or perhaps because of it, they have seen
their limitations sooner .
.
l
.
he next step is to connect
these observations with the political world; this is
being done. So, even should we lose the battle of
Coastal Talamanca, something will be gained for
the future.
There are times when an editor's lot is not an easy
one. I had developed something of an idee fixe for
an article on energy for this issue. Wouldn't it be
a good idea, I thought, to have someone write an
assessment of the state of the art as of the early
eighties. The author would discuss such things as
the present or near-future applicability of wind gen
erators and photovoltaics as well as small-scale
hydropower and biofuels. It would help people be
gin to mull over various forms of renewable energy
deciding which could be best adapted for their own
use in the next few years.
Luckily, I have access to quite a few experts. I
approached Ty Cashman, Joe Seale, J. Baldwin,
and Gary Hirshberg, but for a variety of reasons
none of them felt comfortable about complying with
my request. I received instead Ty's article, which
appears in the New Alchemy section that, based
on his own experience, describes the kind of mind
set that proceeds attitudinal and social change.
From Joe came a profle, or geographic overview,
of the country's renewable energy potential-some
what closer, but still not what I had had in mind.
J. presented me with "Autologic," which is included
in this section and is about good and bad thinking
about technology. Gary tured the assignment over
to Greg Watson and Michael Greene, who de
scribed the forming of a local energy cooperative.
Once my editorial huff at having my directive
sidestepped or ignored had subsided, it began to
dawn on me that their response was suitable. The
energy question is thorny and complex. (No single
shot answers, remember, editor?) It is political and
attitudinal and one that will force us to rethink what
we really need and want and to do so clearly this
time. Mollified, I find myself grateful to my recal
citrant writers. As Amory Lovins concludes his ar
ticle in the Explorations section, "Using energy to
worthy ends for right livelihood is profoundly diffi
cult, and not a technical issue at all."
N.J.T.
Greasing the Windmill
It took Dad and me from afternoon on one day
Until sundown the next
to grease the windmill.
The frst afteroon we went to town
for a six-pack of beeT.
put the beers into a gunny sack
and hung the sack in the well on clothesline.
The mill above the well looked shorter than foTty feet.
The next moring after milking and breakfast
we walked into the pasture.
Dad had an empty bucket to dmin the old oil into
and I new oil in a new tin can.
Dad sighed
and started up the ladder,
each foot on a step fm fve steps,
then both feet on one step for three steps,
and then stood on the eighth step
complaining of dizziness.
He care back down.
It was my tum.
I made it twelve steps up,
one foot on a step but breathing hmd,
when Dad called up that I had the new oil.
I had to go back for the empty bucket.
It was harder my second time
and slower with the bucket. The whole mill
shivered in sympathy. I managed only to peek
onto the platorm, to lift the empty bucket above
my head with ry free hand, and tip the bucket
onto the platform. Then I too was dizzy.
I came down, the old oil
still undmined.
Getting the better of ourselves
pmved time-consuming. By now it was
coffee time. In the kitchen we admitted
to Mother that all we had achieved
was an empty bucket
on the platform.
Mother renzinded us that my brother Klaas,
now, alas, in ser"ice,
used to grease the mill on his way to catch
the school bus,
slaTting out a half-houT early. And he neveT
even had a dmp
of grease on him at school that day.
Mother Teminded us that Genii Henry,
Klaas's friend around the corer,
not in service and available,
went up his dad's windmill
with the full can and
the empty can,
dmined the old
oil, spread-eagled
himself fat against
the wheel, and had his dad
put the mill in gear. Afterwards
he said it had been better than a
ferris wheel. Running the mill
had got the last drop of oil
out, and he had added new oil
before coring down, all in one trip.
Why couldn't we be like that?
She might as well have said,
"Napoleon:
now there's a hero for you!"
In the pasture after coffee
Dad said, "We'll never make it
without the beeT. " He had hoped
he could bTing the sixpack back to
Doc's Cafe, untouched. The trickle
and then the drip from the gunny sack,
the haul of the cold clothesline, and then
the beer itsel, all would have Testored us
if we had been thiTst and tired. We were
afraid, not thirsty and tired, and the
beer- was our bitter anesthetic.
We needed a bottle apiece
for a full dose.
It was guilt
and not the beer
that got Dad to the top.
He had to prove to himsel
that the beer had been necessmy.
How explain the beer to God come judgment
Day if he couldn't show that the bm had helped?
I cheered when he made it: Oranje boven! And I
cheeud
again when he opened the petcock and drained the old
oil out
into the bucket I had deliverec earlieT at such pain.
But hi eyes
were bright as brimstone looking down, the guilt still
there.
How could he ever know for swe he hadn't faked the
fear
to justify the bm? He tmnbled all the way down,
step by step, rung b rung, the full bucket
tilting ominously as he changed it from
one hand to the other. The wind
whipped spatters over his bib-
overall and cast-offSunday
tie. I remembeTed Klaas
greasing the mill,
clean.
After dinner
the windmill had doubled in size
in the full glow ofan Iowa afternoon.
Dad and I began with a beer apiece on the gmund.
Who knows? If I Jailed again, he would need to be
ready.
Actually, I swprised u both. I scrambled up, poured
the oil in,
closed the petcock, and thTew the empty tin down. It
bounced higher than Dad's
head! What a height, to make a can bounce higher
than Dad's head.
Promptly I was paralyzed.
"You done real good, " Dad called, "co'le down. "
"Wait till ! get a notion," I said, and didn't budge.
"I'll go home for tea without you. "
I could no nothing.
"You got a piece ofpie coming. "
I could do nothing.
"There still an two beers in the well. "
I still could do nothing.
"Must we get Genit Hemy to fetch you down?"
Mention of Genit Hemy
made me go pmne on the platonn,
clutch the edge, hunt for the spokes
and undeTtake my quavering descent.
Then it was tea-time.
Mother poured us tea
but gave us no heTo's welcome.
After tea, we did chmes,
after chores, we milked,
after milking, we ate supper,
and after supper, Dad remembered the been.
You couldn't retum two beers out ofa si-pack to Doc's
Cafe.
That beer-
with Dad in twilight
at the mill
all Jem gone,
well, as gone as fear ever gets-
that beer is the only beer I have ever njoyed.
But Mother's diary is too spme for june 1 1 , 1944:
"Dad and Sietze greased the mill today. "
If ever I did a day's work, I did it that day.
Sietze B uning june 1 1 , 1944
J Aks
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Scae ad Diversity i
Eerg Systems
joe Seale
It is possible for the energy needs of this country
to be supplied by applied solar technologies, if
energy sources are matched to specifcs of location
and end use. The form of solar-derived energy
must vary from place to place. Half of the United
States lacks decent windpower sites. Both the wind
and biofuel potentials of most of Nevada, Utah,
Arizona, and New Mexico are poor. The Southeast
and southern California have few good windpower
sites. Solar energy prospects are poor for the Pa-
cifc Northwest, especially near the Pacifc coast,
as well as for the eastern Great Lakes region ex
tending into Pennsylvania and New York. But few
regions lack the capacity for some form of solar
derived energy. The windpower-defcient South
east and Southwest (in addition to the windy South
Central region) have excellent solar potential. Bio
fuel prospects for the Southeast are favorable. The
highest windpower-potential regions in the United
States are the darkest corner of the Pacifc North-
west, the cloudy eastern Great Lakes region, and
the much sunnier coasts of southern New England.
The less windy and not-so-sunny stretches of
northern New England have forests that could,
with good ecosystem management, provide indef
initely renewable biofuel energy for that region.
The many hundreds of abandoned mill dams in
New England could be outfitted to generate a total
of many megawatts of hydropower. The Grand
Coulee Dam, now rated at 6,ooo megawatts and
expandable to 1 o,ooo megawatts within the capa
bilities of the watershed, could keep Washington
state in the ranks of energy exporters.
Hydropower scale is limited by the flow and head
available at a site. Because the cost of additional
turbine-generators is small once the dam is there,
the economics of rising energy costs will cause hy
dropower sites to be developed to their maximum
potential. The scale and locations of good hydro
power sites will play a large role in determining
village scale and economic activity. The economics
that caused mill towns to be built may well return
with the depletion of nonrenewable energy
resources.
Forest biofuel production per square mile is ul
timately limited by the forest's capacity to replace
biomass. The energy costs of wood shipment keep
the practical radii from forest to generating plant
down to a few tens of miles. An area with a 20 mile
radius cannot renewably support a net electric
power yield greater than approximately 100 mega
watts. The income from that scale of operation
would support no more than 1 ,ooo-2 ,ooo workers
engaged in plant upkeep, harvesting, forest man
agement, business, and accounting, etc. Adding
worker families and service industry workers and
families gives a rough order of magnitude of the
size of the community that might derive support
from forest energy export: 1o,ooo-2o,ooo at most.
Space heating for the community ideally would
come from waste heat. If some export took the
form of manufactured goods that used the energy
from the power plant and perhaps some of its heat
(in a co-generation process), then the potential size
of the community supported by forest energy
would increase considerably. These fgures indi
cate upper limits, not optimum size. They suggest
a signifcant potential dispersion of population
supported by biomass forest income.
I n level windy regions, windpower potential can
be fairly good at suffcient tower altitude, regard
less of location. But the most economically attrac
tive windpower sites will be determined by topo
graphic features: ridges, coastlines, mountain gaps,
and accessible mountain tops. These sites will gen
erally not support large arrays of wind turbines,
but more frequently a single row of turbines lim-
ited to the length of the ridge or the width of the
wind gap. It turns out that the maximum power
potential for such sites depends on the character
istic length or width of the topographic feature
and on the vertical distance swept by rotors over
that horizontal span. The implication is that large
wind turbines extract more power at prime sites
than small turbines when site saturation is achieved.
There will be therefore pressure to install the larg
est practical wind turbines. The most economical
scale for wind turbines is subject to debate, but it
seems that a rated capacity of 1 -3 megawatts is an
upper bound beyond which complexity and sheer
weight outweigh any further advantages of in
creased scale. Lest this scale cause some readers
to finch, it is worth recalling that the frst mega
watt-scale machine to operate (excepting the 1 945
Smith-Putnam turbine on Grandpa's Knob, Ver
mont) was the 2 megawatt turbine that was de
signed, constructed, and fnanced almost entirely
by students and faculty members of the Danish
Technical High School/junior College at Tvind in
the mid seventies.
The examples so far have dealt with maximum
scale for solar technologies and have assumed sig
nificant economic activity oriented around the en
ergy supply. A more usual energy system for a
village would serve the ordinary demands of res
idences, commercial establishments, and perhaps
light industry, but not energy-intensive industries
such as metal forging or glass production (from
recycled materials or otherwise). The largest quan
titative energy demands would be low-temperature
thermal end-uses: space and hot water heating,
refrigeration and freezing, and possibly air con
ditioning. Where solar potential was good, heat
demands would best be met on a house-by-house
basis using passive solar architecture, and trees
should be the first defense against heat. If nights
are cool, as at high altitudes and in the desert,
passive storage of night coolness should be a func
tion of housing design. But two factors may favor
neighborhood (or larger) scale thermal systems.
The first is existing housing that is diffcult to re
troft. The other is regions of poor solar potential
or air cooling needs. In thes.e situations, large-scale
insulated water tanks could store summer heat and
winter cold on a seasonal basis. Hot water could
be stored using year-round active solar collection
or wind-driven heat pumps. Cold water could be
stored using wintertime convective heat exchange
to ambient or wind-driven mechanical refrigera
tion, perhaps with the same device whose other
end is generating stored hot water. The advantage
of the relatively large scale for seasonal thermal
storage is declining cost per unit capacity and an
improved surface-to-volume ratio that makes tank
4
insulation relatively more effcient. Diseconomies
of scale would arise in the distribution system,
though the viable size range for seasonal thermal
storage systems could be from 10 families up to
a town.
Baseload electricity (electricity that is there when
you want it) and energy-storing fuels will become
increasingly costly, especially in places where hy
dropower and biofuels are not local resources.
There will be ample incentive to conserve and con
vert organic wastes into methane or alcohol. Hy
drogen from surplus electricity that cannot be
stored will fnd a role in high-quality heat uses such
as cooking; it will perhaps even be used in mantle
gas lights. Refrigerators that can store ice during
electricity surplus periods will fnd a market in a
solar energy economy. But a few energy uses will
continue to demand baseload electricity.
To meet baseload demands from local solar
(photovoltaic) and wind energies will be diffcult.
The prospects for storage batteries and fuel cells
are not very encouraging. The manufacturing en
ergy costs of storage batteries averaged over their
relatively short lifetime are a discouragingly large
fraction of the energy they handle. This makes
them dubious prospects for a sustainable solar en
ergy economy. Pumped-water energy storage for
hydroelectric recovery is expensive and ineffcient,
and requires high places to locate storage ponds.
Still, pumped-water storage has better prospects
than batteries. Flywheel energy storage will mature
to provide another alterative, but again a fairly
expensive one.
The most likely prospects for baseload electricity
in a solar economy are for decentralization of gen
eration combined with interconnection through
the existing electric distribution grid. Hydropower
plants with suffcient stored-water volume could
be ftted with more turbine-generators than av
erage river fow would support and then used in
termittently as premium backup energy stations.
This would be an excellent complement to wind
and solar electricity since no extra pumping equip
ment or energy conversion by pumping would be
required. The energy of the river would simply
be stored for short periods. Mathematical studies
of windpower statistics are showing that as wind
plants are interconnected over large regions, power
fuctuations average out and the power source re
quires much less storage for "frm" power. The
role of end-use thermal storage has been empha
sized; this leaves a greatly reduced demand for
hydropower, and possibly biofuel, backup. But the
overall problem of energy supply seems econom
ically soluble only by interconnection of villages,
towns, and regions to take advantage of the di
versity of their energy technologies. If the utility
grid investment were yet to be made, there might
be less incentive to create such a network from
scratch. But there it is, bigger than we should ever
need if we use energy as frugally as we must in
order to get along with renewable resources. Only
minor distribution branches need be added. Such
an interconnected system would not be as vulner
able to disruption as our current system with cen
tralized generation. With predictable hardships,
the parts of such a dispersed system could survive
without their interconnections.
1
Te Fong of te Cap ad
Islads Sl-Relace Coprtve
Greg Watson and Michael Greene
Humanity is about to discove1
That whateveT it needs to do
And knows how to do
It can always afford to do
And that in fact is only
And all it can afford to do
R. Buckminster Fuller
I n the eleven years since the birth of New Al
chemy, complex processes of societal evolution
have triggered some profound shifts in the public
consciousness of humanity's relationship with the
natural world. Large numbers of individuals have
come to realize the importance of confronting is
sues surrounding our personal, community, and
regional patterns of food and energy production
and consumption. This growing maturation of en
vironmental awareness is honing some potential
(perhaps even inevitable) new directions for New
Alchemy as we enter the eighties.
For the past decade the New Alchemists have
focused on designing and testing small-scale, eco
logically sound food and energy-producing sys
tems that are not dependent on fossil fuels. Early
on we were primarily devoted to ascertaining the
feasibility of this goal and, in turn, convincing a
rather skeptical public of its practicability. Back
then there was but a modicum of public interest
in our work. Few people were concerned about
society's ninety-fve percent reliance on our "cap-
ita!" energy sources. Fewer still believed that an
eclectic collection of scientists, artists, and philos
ophers growing vegetables and raising fish in geo
desic domes on Cape Cod were doing much that
was even remotely relevant to their lives. Conse
quently, as far as most people were concerned,
there was ample reason to question both the need
for and the practicality of our research.
As time passed many of the dangers inherent
in energy-intensive strategies that had been adopted
to meet our food and energy needs were becoming
all too clear. Indeed, the latter part of the seventies
seemed a harbinger of doom, with marathon gas
lines, water shortages, acid rain, hazardous wastes,
Love Canal, and Three Mile Island-to name just
a frightening few. As the seventies drew to a close
we found that we didn't have to work as hard to
convince people that we had little choice but to
develop and implement life-support systems that
recognized not only the needs of the human com
munity but those of Gaia, or the natural world, as
well. A most welcome tur of events.
Change, of course, brings about more change.
Mutual causality plays as important a role in social
process as it does in biological, ecological, and
physical interaction. It was only expected that the
change in public attitude to meeting energy and
food needs that New Alchemy had been instru
mental in creating should in tur create a new
niche for us in the social fabric.
4
Society's "back-door" discovery of the divine law
of interrelatedness (bury enough chemical wastes
in the earth, and sure enough, they'll come back
to haunt you) which is the cornerstone of ecology,
has inspired a growing interest in what is generally
called appropriate technology. The demand for
solar collectors, solar hot water systems, windmills,
organically grown foods, and so forth, has in
creased dramatically within recent years, as has the
demand for technical assistance and guidance in
implementing these systems.
This is the niche that our envirunllleutal con
scioiusness-raising has helped to create: there is a
need for community appropriate technologists or
in Byron Kunard's words, community-based in
novation. To be sure, this is a role quite different
from our former one as researchers/educators. It
is nonetheless one that many of New Alchemy's
supporters are now asking for and expecting us
to assist in flling. The time has come, they seem
to be saying, for us to put our reputation (and
designs) on the line.
New Alchemy's education and outreach pro
grams have accepted this challenge by committing
more of the institute's resources to addressing the
food and energy needs of the Cape Cod com
munity. During the winter of 1 979, along with three
other local service agencies we were contacted by
the Community Action Committee (CAC) of Cape
Cod and asked to take part in planning and im
plementing a regional food and energy assistance
agency for Cape Cod-the Cape and Islands Self
Reliance Cooperative.
The Community Action Committee is the Cape's
antipoverty agency. Since its formation in 1 965, it has
been committed to the Cape's low-income resi
dents. It has been successful in bringing about
major changes in housing and health care for the
Cape's poor. This work made CAC aware of the
burden of rising fuel and food costs on the elderly,
unemployed, and underemployed.
Cape Cod and the islands of Martha's Vineyard
and Nantucket are at the top of the Massachusetts
charts in both fuel and food costs. In many cases,
families with annual incomes of less than $7,700
spend up to a quarter of that for heating. Thou
sands of Cape residents are forced to apply for
fuel assistance. Having spent twenty-fve percent
of their income for fuel, Cape residents face the
prospect of going to supermarkets where food
prices are at least six percent above the national
average.
While government programs such as fuel assis
tance and food stamps do help many families to
meet fuel and food costs, they do next to nothing
to lessen the recipients' dependence on fossil fuels,
agribusiness, or future assistance. In contrast, the
Self-Reliance Cooperative will offer individuals
and families opportunities to achieve some mea
sure of self-suffciency in food and energy, and
along with it, some promise of hope and increased
dignity.
The goal of the Cape and Islands Self-Reliance
Cooperative is to combine the technological ex
pertise and the innovations of New Alchemy, the
community organizing experience of the Com
munity Action Committee of Cape Cod, the hous
ing and energy fnancial counseling of the Housing
Assistance Corporation (HAC}, the energy audit
ing and weatherization skills of the Energy Re
source Group (ERG) of Martha's Vineyard, and
the fshing, farming, and aquaculture expertise of
the Wampanog Tribal Councils of Mashpee and
Gay Head. This collective organization will provide
residents of the Cape and Islands with a vehicle
through which they can achieve a measure of food
and energy self-reliance and reduce overall re
gional dependence on fossil fuels. There is a kind
of magic involved here called synergy-the in
creased capability resulting from combining and
coordinating the actions of formerly separate in
dividuals and groups with similar goals.
For many of us the Self-Reliance Cooperative
offers a unique chance to be at once practical and
idealistic. Philosophical ideas such as mutual aid,
cooperation, synergy, self-reliance, and nonviolent
social change that were in danger of being reduced
to rhetoric or cliches have taken concrete meaning
in the context of the co-op.
Conceptually the co-op is intended to foster co
operation on at least two levels: between organi
zations and between individuals and small groups.
On an organizational level, each of the agencies
brings a unique set of skills. Together they propose
to provide a number of direct services to members,
who will pay dues on a sliding scale depending on
income. These services include:
1. Home energy and agricultural audits. This means
a complete assessment of each member's house or apart
ment in terms of energy and water conservation, alter
native energy potential, and food growing capabilities.
2. Financial counseling on federal, state, and local loan
or grant programs available for weatherization and al
ternative energy efforts.
3 Discount and wholesale purchasing privileges for
conservation, alternative energy, and food production
materials and equipment, including insulation, tools,
seeds, solar glazings, and so forth.
4 Access to services of home improvement and
weatherization contractors at reduced rates.
5 A complete work
s
hop/education program, includ
ing on-site courses in the member's house, special for
ums on subjects such as food production, pest control,
energy conservation, and so forth.
The frst and perhaps the most important part
of the program is the home energy and food audit.
Each member will be interviewed by a trained staff
person to determine living pattern and fnancial
status, evaluate space heating and domestic hot
water, inspect and analyze the residence from base
ment to attic, and appraise general site conditions
and potential for alternative energy production
and intensive small-scale agriculture.
The audit will give detailed information on pres
ent energy use and the economics of energy and
food-related home improvements. It will estimate
the cost, frst-year savings, payback, and rate of
l '
'
,,
RoZw
return for each applicable energy conservation,
renewable resource, or food-production step. Each
suggested strategy will be presented within the con
text of available fnancing.
The audit will provide the basis for a member's
personal plan to improve the operating efficiency
of his or her home and to begin to develop a home
energy and food-production system.
The plan will identify a range of possibilities
based upon cost-effectiveness and potential pay
back. Products and materials including solar glaz
ings, wood stoves and stove pipe, solar water heat
ers, seeds, garden tools, compost starters, and so
forth, will be available through the co-op at re
duced prices. The co-op will offer training and
instruction to members interested in their own
home food and energy projects or will arrange for
construction at preferential rates by contractors
experienced in appropriate technologies.
The co-op expects to be of service to about two
thousand Cape and Islands residents. Membership
will be open, although special emphasis will be
placed on recruiting low-income families. The
membership will be encouraged to interact and
cooperate in part through community networks
that the co-op will assist in facilitating. Establishing
a community network is critical to the success of
the co-op, as we realize that many of the skills and
resources needed to effect a shift to self-reliance
exist already in our neighborhoods and com
munities.
Whereas the community network might appear
the least tangible of the co-op's goals, it is critical
in that it speaks to and demonstrates those values
that must complement our technologies whether
we are aware of it or not.
Initially, New Alchemy's role will be to train fu
ture co-op staff in specifc technical areas. We are
beginning an apprenticeship program for co-op
trainees in which they will: ( 1 ) gain skills and knowl
edge in intensive agriculture, aquaculture, tree
crops, solar, wind, and energy conservation by
working with us for a full year; and (2) simulta
neously assist local residents who require help in
their particular interest areas. Thus, we shall be
developing a professional staff who possess useful
skills and are available to apply their knowledge
to residential situations. New Alchemy will be con
ducting the initial food and fuel audits offering
a comprehensive yearlong program of seminars.
We are very excited about the co-op. In our
minds it is a logical outgrowth of nearly eleven
years of work and the beginning of a valued and
hoped for partnership. The new cooperative will
enable us to continue our research efforts while
providing technical assistance to those who need
it now.
J. Bldin
Autologc
]. Baldwin
Here comes the Parthenon! It's whizzing down the
road on the nose of what is supposed to be the
finest car built, a Rolls Royce. The finest auto
mobile made today shoves a chrome-plated model
of a Greek temple through the air and pays about
ten miles per gallon to do so. "Built like a Rolls,"
we say. Countless manufactured items are com
pared to the Rolls. This hurtling place of worship
is but one minor example of what I call autologic,
a way of thinking that makes sense only i f many
realities are ignored and only if you are selling
cars. The Greek facade calls up a "classic" image.
Lesser cars call up an expensive image by resem
bling the Rolls or other expensive cars. Thus we
see most cars sporting ludicrously unaerodynamic,
gas-eating styling that now has implications as a
threat to national security. Yet the shape of cars
is not questioned in popular media, and govern
ment regulations ignore styling as well as other
essentials of the automobile.
The way that cars are designed and integrated
into our society seems to be the result of some
irrefutable natural law. Cars are so convenient.
They work. There's an irresistible magic in being
able to go where you want when you want. It's all
so easy that there doesn't seem to be any reason
to question the phenomenon. Question-raisers are
alsu gr
eeted with less than enthusiasm politically.

There's good reason for that too; about half of
American paychecks come from some sort of in
volvement with the automobile. The economy of
our nation rests largely on the auto and its "ac
cessories" such as roads, bridges, parking lots,
signs, fuel, repair, shelter, administration, the auto
caused damage industry (hospitals, body shops,
and insurance) , parking meters, meter maids and
their scooters, unions, retirement plans, scooter
mechanics (and their unions, etc.) . . . if you carry
things all the way back to the raw materials you
can see how pervasive the car has become to our
nation's smooth operation. Even car-haters have
become so entangled in autologic that rational crit
icism becomes difficult and academic analysis sub
ject to severe distortions arising mostly from un
systematic examination of one small facet of a very
complex matter.
Distortions of reality should not be too surpris
ing considering the character of the industry in
volved. Generally speaking, the auto industry isn't
too much different from others; the idea is to make
a proft. But to make that proft, Detroit has to sell
cars in large numbers. In a good year three cars
are made for each child born. Because cars have
so many parts, and the parts come from so many
sources, about a three-year lead time is necessary
to get a new model into the showroom. A com
pletely new model may require an entirely new
factory. A recent front-wheel-drive compact was
developed at a cost well over a billion dollars. Ob
viously, more profts can be made if the new model
is not, in fact, new, but only seems that way.
Another ploy is to make the same car but with
different nameplates at various levels of prestige.
A cheap car gussied up to sell at a higher price
brings in more proft. Prestige is mostly due to
advertised image anyway. Remember the uproar
when Olds owners discovered their cars had Chevy
engines? That's nothing new! Anyway, to make a
model seem new or more expensive, the selling
points cannot be the parts that are not new, the
expensive parts. Consequently, you see very little
in advertising that refers to engines, axles, brakes,
steering, and roadholding. What you do see is
"features." These tend to be fuff such as speeding
temples, dashboard change bins, hidden head
lights, and black vinyl roofs that make it necessary
to run the air conditioning on mild days. Features
tend to be added on rather than part of a concept.
(Mechanical concept, that is . . . they certainly are
part of marketing concepts.)
To generate the needed mass market, the fea
tures are heavily advertised as if they were im
portant. The vital parts are not mentioned and
consequently the public is never usefully educated.
The public doesn't know enough to demand better
brakes, for instance. Thus there is no incentive to
develop good brakes, and you can still buy cars
that cannot be stopped fast in a straight line. Peo
ple assume that such things as brakes are auto
matically taken care of by the engineers, much in
the same way one expects a Winchester to refrain
from exploding in one's face. Not so in the auto
industry. Brakes could be extolled as a sales fea
ture, of course, but market surveys have shown
that such talk makes people think about safety and
accidents, and that does not lead to a buying mood.
In this way, essential issues are masked. About ffty
thousand people are killed every year in cars in
the U. S. A. and not much is done about it despite
studies showing that each death costs society nearly
two hundred thousand dollars in lost wages and
work. (Grief isn't measured.) In the eyes of many
designers, "safety features" as they are known, are
optional or hated add-ons mandated by excessive
government regulation.
Other issues are masked too. The whole pollu
tion controversy is one, and I' ll not belabor it here
except to say that there is more than corporate
malice involved in the industry's attempt to dis
courage improvement except under duress. Not
only does the pollution issue require an admission
of corporate social responsibility, it requires ex
pensive tooling for parts that can't be featured on
the sales foor.
There's a mask on the actual costs of running
a car too. Hertz has come up with fgures so high
they are hard to believe-up to forty cents per
mile. But even that price doesn't cover the less
obvious costs such as repairing the hole in your
driveway, and doesn't admit social costs such as
the physical damage and work-hours lost from
accidents. "Life-cycle costs," the long-range total
costs of owning a machine, are not available. I
recently retired my trusty Citroen at three hundred
thousand miles without an overhaul. At an ex
traordinarily low nine cents per mile overall, it still
comes to about thirty thousand dollars! It's not
exactly a conspiracy, but it is hard to come up with
this sort of information. User costs could be cut
by better fuel economy and easier repairability, but
at the expense of the formidable oil industry and
the repair trade. Comparative costs of repair could
be compiled from fat-rate repair rate books and
parts price sheets, but even Consumer's Union
doesn't attempt such a complex task. It'd be futile
anyway; new cars are less and less repairable by
owners with common tools.
Giving little thought to making cars easy to fx
is typical of an industry that gives little thought to
human beings except in their role as buyers. Most
cars have poorly shaped seats designed to look
good in the showroom. Those seats allegedly ft
ninety-nine percent of the customers. That sounds
fne until you fgure that with an annual produc
tion of six million cars there are tens of thousands
of cars with uncomfortable drivers. Sharp trunk
lid corners menace unsuspecting heads. Irritating
refections of the radio speaker mar the view
through an often optically distorted windshield.
More seriously, many cars become uncontrollable
when they encounter a soft shoulder. The remedy
for this has been known fOI- decades, and being
a matter of geometry, it doesn't cost anything. Yet
millions of cars are made every year with this po
tential for disaster built in.
How can this happen?
One reason is that cars are designed by teams
that may not have similar goals. The people de
signing steering systems don't talk to safety engi
neers. The result is steering mechanisms that can
spear the driver in a crash. The autological answer
to this problem has been to add on an expensive
complex "feature"-the collapsing steering col
umn-only after being forced to by legislation. By
contrast, many European cars do not need a col
lapsing column because the steering engineers had
safety in mind from the beginning and designed
systems that didn't have parts that threatened the
driver in the frst place.
Even when Detroit designers are trying to do
their best, years of autologic paralyzes clear thought.
Consider the Jeep, a supposed all-terrain vehicle.
In concept a Jeep is but a small conventional
pickup with the front axle driven too. It clears the
ground by the same distance as a Buick, although
it appears to be up there out of harm's way. It
sinks in mud and doesn't foat in water. The belly
is a tangled mess of parts that catch on things that
mire the vehicle. Vital parts are exposed to damage
from stones, and critical components are diffcult
to repair in the feld. The Jeep's length is less than
half loadspace, and it is inordinately heavy at no
gain in strength. It is easily overturned. Not a very
good show! I t doesn't last long either. Similar in
eptitude may be found in the design of tacked-on
smog equipment and sadly (some say criminally)
ineffective safety hardware:
The lifespan of a vehicle is another autological
fact of life that we have come to accept without
much question. We've been trained to agree that
a car lasts around one hundred thousand miles.
This is not a law of nature, but is carefully engi
neered. The subject of planned obsolescence here
rears its ugly head. The hundred-thousand-mile
lifespan is arbitrary, and the manner in which the
car deteriorates is purposefully chosen. On most
cars such things as seats, door latches, and window
mechanisms are designed to live just until the pay
ments are fnished. The engine and transmission
are better hcause if they failed early, you'd never
buy another of that brand. But a tacky interior is
shameful when transporting friends, and is a con
siderable incentive to buy a new car. Many new
cars have styling details made from plastic that is
eaten by sunlight, resulting in a tacky exterior as
well. Time for a new one! In this day of growing
concer for resource depletion, such an attitude
is no longer appropriate, but in an industry with
a captive market (our country has been built in a
way that requires a car in most circumstances)
changing that attitude may mean even more leg
islation or other coercive action. A voluntary change
seems unlikely.
Unfortunately, the problem goes far beyond the
auto industry. It is my opinion as a designer that
autologic has invaded all but a few enterprises, and
is actually taught, by implication, in our universi
ties. In times of cheap energy, the only recognized
standard of performance is market performance.
Catering to the demands of the consumer is what
I call a political matter-that is, the constraints are
largely a question of psychology. Market psychol
ogy is not "natural," as the buying public is ma
nipulated by advertising aimed at maintaining the
necessary mass demand for the product that must
be mass produced in order to remain affordable
to Mr. and Mrs. Front Porch. In effect, the public
is told what it desires-mostly, as has already been
pointed out, the unimportant sales features. Until
recently such desires were easily satisfed. But
when energy effciency is a factor, there are dif
ferent masters to satisfy: physical laws and the real
ities of resource supply. A primary concern with
physical law does make a difference in the quality
of design. Compare the auto and the airplane. As
inventions they arc about the same age, but look
at the difference in the state of their development.
The most modern Ford is conceptually only a
Model T with a fatter body and detail improve
ments, while the latest Boeing is a far cry from the
Wright brothers' Flyer. Airplanes must frst and
foremost fy reliably. If one fails, you can't get out
and walk. Automobiles permit all manner of en
gineering carelessness as long as they go, stop, and
within acceptable limits refrain from overturn-
ing-those limits being incestuously provided by
the industry itself. However, the limits of resource
management, the accumulative effects of pollution,
and the political effects of ineffciency are not ame
nable to self-regulation. The auto maers and
users are in trouble at last. They are not the only
ones.
J. Ba/dl
Regrettably some of the problem industries are
ones close to our hearts-the soft technologies.
Wind machines are an example. They must live
outdoors without much maintenance under the
worst possible conditions. Ice, lightning, hail, salt
air, hurricanes, and inattention must all be accom
modated in the design. Easy maintenance (or none)
is essential to long life, and long life is not an
arbitrary fgure in this case. For if the machine
doesn't last long enough to at least pay for itself,
it isn't worth buying in the frst place. And, more
important, if the machine doesn't last long enough
to make or save more energy than was used to
make it, then it is in effect one more fossil fuel
device. Yet I see all too many machines on the
market with aluminum parts fastened with steel
rivets, a practice sure to cause early failure from
galvanic corrosion. I see machines that must be
taken down from the pole for the most simple
service. I talk to the president of a (still-respected)
wind turbine company and he tells me that their
machines must be completely dismantled every two
years to replace the many swivel joints that are
totally unprotected from weather and are under
sized to begin with. I note with alarm the popular
Windcharger with its governor mechanism built
without bushings, so that the bolts soon wear egg
shaped holes and the speed regulation deteriorates
to disaster. Bushings would have added at most
twenty-fve dollars to the retail cost of that six
hundred-dollar product.
In fairness, there are some well-designed wind
turbines, but not many, and there is a deplorable
tendency to design machines that have high output
in high winds, a condition that is uncommon. The
big numbers look well in a brochure though, es
pecially to a public used to reading biggest-is-best
in auto advertising. There is also very little re
search visible (and even fewer results) concerning
the design of effcient devices that use windpower,
despite the obvious benefts to be gained by sys
temic design. There are a lot of disillusioned wind
machine purchasers out there if my mailbag is any
indication. Apparently many wind machine man
ufacturers are using the public as a test program,
another Detroit tactic. This practice is giving a
fedgling industry a bad name that it can ill afford,
for its market is not captive.
The same can be said for solar energy devices
and architectural schemes. A shocking number of
solar collectors are made in a way that is ignorantly
and sometimes deliberately intended to require
expensive repair or replacement before the device
has paid for itself either in money or energy. Even
reputable frms are shy about warranties extending
into the payback period. And just as there has been
little work done to reduce the need for electricity
and consequently the need for electricity-making
equipment, there has not been much done to re
duce the need for solar collectors and the like.
People seem to desire "things." A passive home
that doesn't sport visible hardware on the roof
somehow is not as appealing to an uneducated
buyer. The principal passive work has thus been
done by nonindustrial builders and experimenters
whose "product" is an idea, rather than something
that comes in a box. There has been some resis
tance to passive houses in many subtle forms, even
overt disparagement from industry and from gov
ernment as well, as a result of lobbying. I have
attended government-sponsored "solar work
shops" in which passive designs were derided
openly as impractical when there were at least ffty
successful passive houses operating within a half
hour drive of the lecture hall.
Though not the only guilty group, the auto in
dustry has tended to be at the forefront of such
shenanigans, and its enormous advertising budget
spreads its attitude. (Witness the recent reduction
in federal gas mileage standards in the same week
as a supply-threatening Middle East war!) It's easy
to see autologic in household appliances, but the
house itself is harder to analyze. Regrettably, the
expensive and tasteful houses many of us call
"nice," are as . much energy pigs as tract homes,
apartments, and mobile homes. I call them Buick
Houses, referring to Buick's long tradition of "giv
ing you a Iotta car for the money." I t's hard to
think about your house, isn't it? Have you ever
thought that a separate bedroom might be silly for
your needs? It sits there eating energy and mort
gage payments but is used only one-third of the
time-the rest of the day IT sleeps. There is a
tendency to make your house a showplace of your
belongings and mementos. The trend toward fake
period furniture (molded from highly dangerous
urethane foam) gives the illusion of expensive
pieces, but it's not the real thing, just as autologic
has photographs of wood glued to the dashboard
in a Chevy. In a twenty-thousand-dollar Cadillac,
you get more fake wood instead of the real thing,
never mind the inappropriateness of wood in a car
in the first place. In northern Europe there are
many highly satisfactory houses-for our familes
of four-of about six hundred square feet. That's
practically a closet by our standards. Being big and
showy is becoming expensive to run in a house just
as it is in a car. Attempts to render a huge house
acceptable environmentally by adding a solar hot
water heater and insulation is rather like retro
ftting a Buick with a Briggs & Stratton-you may
save some fuel, but the real problems are still there.
It's time we rewarded designs that are less wasteful.
More with less. I like Bucky Fuller's term ephme1
alization.
A more insidious product of autologic may be
seen in the bicycle business. Bicycles make a lot of
sense as soft-tech. A person on a bike represents
the most effcient means of transport known, ex
ceeding even such a natural system as a running
deer. The average auto trip is less than ten miles
at an average speed of less than ffteen miles per
hour, with a load statistically less than two people.
That's bike talk. Then why are more bikes not used
for commuting and other chores? Yes, there are
questions of weather and safety. The weather we
can't help, but safety questions arise from two
sources. The frst is that bikes are not accorded
public funds to accommodate their needs. "Cars
frst" is another example of autologic. Second is
that the bikes themselves are not very well designed
for everyday use. The typical ten-speed, the most
common type, is ill-suited to conditions met every
day. It's fragile, easily stolen, diffcult to store,
park, and take on public transport. Its vital parts
are heartlessly exposed to the elements, and many
parts are made from materials that cannot with
stand the assault of something as common as sun
light. Tires are easily popped by running over
seeds and the inevitable glass crumbs. The lack of
suspension is not only uncomfortable, but is unsafe
on the rough edges of the road where bikes are
most often used. Brakes don't work in the wet. All
in all not a means of everyday transport for some
one who might be dismissed for being late. The
ten-speed is unsuitable largely because it is a weak
imitation of a racing machine instead of being a
strong statement of utility. The auto equivalents
of the ten-speed, the pseudoracers like Camaro
and Mustang, are among the least-useful cars. The
thinking behind all these is the same. Sell dreams
instead of elegant, useful, economical transport.
Things need not be dowdy eitner. The idea that
workday transportation has to be crude and ugly
is also autologic intended to encourage the sales
of luxury models. There was a time when selling
illusions made good market sense even if it didn't
mean a high degree of usefulness. But now that
the energy and resource crunch is upon us, such
frittermindedness is not only folly, it isn't even
good business.
So what do we do about it? Well, it looks as if
the American public is beginning to see what's
going on, if only at a glimpse. Fat cars are not
selling. Sale of insulation is booming. I think banks
should give loans on solar houses only; in twenty
years fossil-fueled housing may not be worth very
much as collateral. Specification building codes
should give way to performance codes. Five-dollar
per-gallon gasoline would do more for auto design
than any number of government regulations. These
are easily made changes-merely paperwork, but
they could have a great impact.
Lastly, we have a responsibility to become in
creasingly critical. Those of us who know about
net energy must be really tough when we propose
another piece of hardware, regardless of the right
eousness of the concept. We have to think in terms
of whole systems instead of components. We must
encourage people to look at life-cycle costs of tech
nology, both economic and energetic, and we
should pressure lending institutions to take this
into account. But most of all we should look into
our own minds to see how much of what we con
sider "reasonable" actually is so. The best antidote
to autologic is to make everything you do a dem
onstration of clear thought.
J. Baldn
R0Zw1 g
s
o THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Thumbing through back issues of the joural, start
ing with the fifth, a trend becomes apparent. It was
in the fith joural that Earle Barhart first wrote of
his interest in tree crops in the article entitled "On
the Feasibility of a Permanent Agricultural Land
scape. " Earle wrote it just before he became ac
quainted with the work of Bill Molison of Australia.
He had submitted it to me when, just prior to its
publication, he appeared one day looking a bit
disconcerted and announced that he had just dis
covered a book that he felt, in his words, "com
pletely ecl i psed" his own piece. We were both in
something of a quandary. We finally decided that
the best we could do at the eleventh hour was to
have Earle write a book review of Mollison's Per
maculture One that we would include as well. Since
then Earle has published a second article, "Tree
Crops," and Permaculture Two by Mollison has
appeared. Bill Molison is rapidly gaining a de
served reputation as a world leader in the field. Our
own tree crops program under Earle and John
Quinney also progresses satisfactorily.
The idea of tree crops is gaining strength rapidly
these days. There are many reasons for this; the
most obvious being the need to find forms of ag
riculture less dependent on fossil fuel than is the
present norm. A more subtle reason is the slowly
dawning realization that ecosystems might have
something to teach us. In most of New England,
for example, neglect a piece of cleared land for a
while, it becomes evident that trees are what are
intended to grow there. Gives one pause. At least
it gave Earle sufficient pause to begin thinking
about and then to begin planting trees. This has
resulted in a recorded progression from theory to
practice, from writing about the idea of tree culture
to writing about our trees. The "Report From the
Tree People" describes the work that each of the
people involved in our tree research has done, re
flecting the fact that permaculture has become an
important part of New Alchemy's agriculture.
Our emphasis on gardening is by no means less
for our newer interest in trees. Joural readers will
have become familiar with Susan Ervin's report on
her experiments with mulching, biological pest con
trol, and irrigating with pond water. With this issue
she is instituting a regular feature that she has
called "Garden Notes. " In it she still plans to record
the results of scientific experiments and in addition
some more casual observations based on her
seven years of gardening experience.
N.J. T.
sz THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Henike Kroeker
Gaden Notes
Suan Ervin
Mulching
For five years we have been studying the effects
of mulches on soil conditions and crop yields. Bio
degradable mulches add organic material to the
soil as they decompose at the same time they per
form such functions generally attributed to mulch
as water retention, temperature moderation, and
weed control.
To summarize previous studies briefly: we have
found that a mulch of azolla, a nitrogen-fxing
aquatic fern, did not improve lettuce yields. Sea
weed mulch tended to increase yields of beets, to
matoes, and Swiss chard, but resulted in decreasing
yields of lettuce and peppers. Nitrate, potash, and
soluble salt levels in the soil all increased under
seaweed. Leaf mold was not as effective a mulch
as seaweed. Supplemental watering did not signif
icantly increase yields of either mulched or un
mulched crops. Mulching reduces water runoff
and the necessity of cultivation. 1
Over the summer of 1 979 we tested the effects of a
straw mulch, as straw and spoiled hay are generally
readily available. The plants on which the mulch
was tested were Rutgers tomatoes, Salad Bowl let-
'Susan Ervin. >977 The effects of mulching with seaweed and azalia
on lettuce productivity. Joural of The Ntw Alchemist 4: 58.
Susan Ervin. '979 The effects of mulches. joural of The Ntw
Alchemi st s: 56-6> .
Susan Ervin. 1980. Further experiments on the effects of mulches on
crop yields and soil conditions. joural ofThe Ntw Alchemi st 6: 53-56.
tuce, Early Wonder beets, and Cubannelle pep
pers. We divided the test feld into eight lengthwise
plots, four of which we mulched with a 6 inch deep
layer of straw. Four were not mulched. We did
supplemental watering only at seeding and trans
planting time.
We took soil moisture and temperature readings
at a 5 inch depth daily at 4 P. M. , when temperatures
tend to be highest. Two sensors were installed at
each of the sites at which data were collected. We
decided to use two sensors although we have ob
served that two sensors frequently do not agree,
a perversity I found frustrating. Despite differ
ences of opinion among sensors, however, the
trends of the effect of mulch on both moisture and
temperature are consistent. The temperature vari
ation between mulched and unmulched plots is as
much as 1 1
F. , a variation similar to that under sea

weed mulch. These results are summarized in the
accompanying graph.
Moisture readings were similar for plots with
and without mulch until mid-July (see graph) when
those without mulch rapidly became drier. The
unmulched areas got a better soaking during sev
eral light rains; but the mulched areas tended to
retain the moisture they received longer. However,
in mid-August, a heavy all-night rain saturated all
plots equally, and it was the mulched plots that
dried out more quickly. The seaweed mulches we
EFFECT OF MULCHI NG ON SOI L TEMPERATURE
,
Total lettuce yields were 1 .72% higher for plots with
out mulch.
Total beet yields were 49. 92% higher for plots with
mulch, the only yield difference likely to be statisti
cally signifcant.
Total tomato yields were 29.4% higher for plots with
mulch.
Total pepper yields were 37 . I % higher in plots without
mulch.
used in previous years seemed to absorb and retain
moisture better than the straw mulch.
We found no mulch-related nutrient differences
under straw mulch as we had under seaweed. The
straw mulch did not incre(se the nitrogen, potash,
or soluble salt levels of the soil. Whereas nitrogen
and potash increases would be benefcial, the in
crease in salt caused by the seaweed could be dam
aging to some crops, although one winter's leach-
MULCHED
PLOT I
SENSOR A --
B - - -
PLOT 2
SENSOR A -- ---
s -
-
NOT MULCHED
PLOT I
SENSOR A --
B -- -- -
PLOT 2
SENSOR A - - - - -
8 -
-
/
,
/
ing subsequently returned all areas to equally low
salt levels, whether or not they had been mulched
with seaweed. Nitrate levels were quite low in all
plots in mid-August, but rose again by fall.
In earlier trials beet yields were as much as 225%
higher, and tomatoes, 7. 3% higher under the sea
weed mulch. Lettuce yields, however, were 33 9%
greater without seaweed mulch. The straw-mulched
crops of the most recent experiment followed the
tendencies of earlier years; yields were higher un
der mulch for beets and tomatoes, but better with
out mulch for lettuce and peppers.
Whereas these experiments have increased our
understanding of the effects of mulches, they have
also pointed up the difficulty of isolating the effects
of one particular aspect of soil management on
"organically" managed soils. Early in the experi
ments we found that supplemental watering on a
weekly basis did not signifcantly affect yields in
either mulched or unmulched areas. Some irri
gated areas were, in fact, drier at times than other
unirrigated ones. This could possibly be caused by
a very localized sand substrate. This countered our
expectation that mulch would be especially bene
ficial when there was a lack of water. Subsequently,
neither those experimental plots with nor those
without mulch have been watered except to estab
lish plants after transplanting or to facilitate ger
mination. Although we have a four-to-six-week
period without rain each summer, crops have done
well, with no evidence of needing more water. We
think the water retention capability of our soil has
improved because of its increased content of or
ganic material, which is now 8%. The effects of
mulch would be more pronounced on soils low in
organic material. Whether organic material is on
top of the soil as a mulch or mixed into the soil,
it will retain water. In the future we plan to com
pare moisture retention in both improved and
unimproved sandy soils as well as crop response
to different watering schedules on these soils. It
is probable that the main advantage of mulching
a soil already rich in humus is in weed control and
further prevention of water runoff. In areas with
extreme climates, temperature moderation would
be an added beneft.
Some Tactical Maneuvers for Protecting
Pumpkins and Squash
Squash vine borers and cucumber beetles are se
rious competitors for our squash and pumpkins.
Early in the season the cucumber beetles eat the
leaves and can kill young plants, especially if the
infestation is heavy when the plants have only their
seed leaves. We plant most of the winter squash
and pumpkins in peat pots in the Ark, and we
have found that if we hold them there or in the
cold frame until late May instead of setting them
out as early as possible, there are fewer cucumber
beetles and the larger plants can withstand what
damage they do receive much better.
The vine borers bore into the base of the pump
kin and squash vines. We have tried slitting the
stems, slabbing the ugly creatures, and rubbing
rotenone in the slits. This kills the borers-and
often the plants as well. We have also tried heaping
dirt over the vines as they begin to run in an at
tempt to help them develop a second root system
in case the primary stalk is destroyed. In some
cases this helped. The most encouraging thing we
have learned is that as our soil has improved, the
loss to the borers has seemed to decline, especially
in well-mulched, cool, moist areas. During the sum
mer of 1 979 the squash feld, which was very fertile,
had a deep mulch of leaf mold with a little straw
and seaweed, and there was virtually no borer
damage.
We did, however, acquire a new ailment, one we
think we understand. Most of our apparently
healthy pumpkins rotted from the inside and col
lapsed in the feld. We had put a layer of fresh
horsestable manure mixed with the inevitable
woodchips on top of the thick leaf mulch, thinking
the mulch would protect the plants from burning
and allow the nutrients from the manure to leach
through. The vines ran across the manure, and
the fruits set on it. This probably caused some sort
of bacterial disease. Perhaps after this rather dis
appointing experiment and the other rather more
encouraging discoveries, we can look forward to
a respectable harvest of squash and pumpkins with
some degree of certainty.
Beans and Bean Beetles
Our bean beetle population has been much lower
for several years. We don't know whether this for
tunate development is due to the heavy parasiti
zation by parasitic wasps as reported in the ffth
journal, "Mexican Bean Battles," pp. 53-55, to
hard winters that could kill overwintering adults,
to improved soil conditions, or to a combination
of events. In the summer of 1979 we put 100 par
asitized beetle larvae in the bean feld. Evidently
the wasp hatch was low, because little subsequent
parasitization occurred. Bean beetle damage was
not severe. We grew two old New England varieties
of beans for the frst time this summer, Black
Beauty and Brown Beauty. Both yielded quite well.
A REPOR T from the TREE
PEOPLE
Introduction
john Quinney
In recent New Alchemy journals, Earle Barnhart
has written on the nature of an ecologically in
spired agricultural landscape. His article in the
ffth journal begins with a critique of modern ag
ricultural practices and then proceeds to abstract
from ecological theory in order to arrive at a de
scription of agriculture modeled on the patterns
of native ecosystems. Earle's article in the sixth
journal stresses the importance of perennial plants,
especially trees, and describes various cultural tech
niques for propagation, transplanting, and food
production in both urban and rural environments.
Bill Mollison, a world authority on perennial ag
riculture working in Australia, has recently de
scribed perennial agricultural systems as penacul-
lures. In his 1 978 book Peraculture One' he defnes
the term: "Permaculture is a word we have coined
for an integrated, evolving system of perennial or
self-perpetuating plant and animal species useful
to man [sic]. It is, in essence, a complete agricul
tural ecosystem, modeled on existing but simpler
examples."
Taken together, these publications have pro
vided us with the theoretical basis for our agri
cultural forestry program at New Alchemy. The
transition from theory to practice is now gaining
expression in sections of the farm; subsequent con
tributions to this article diagram the process. Much
of this work is experimental: we have access to
considerations developed by ecologists and forest
ers, orchardists, and farmers but ultimately our
Cape Cod landscape will speak to us more clearly
than journals and books.
'See reference -
s
In addition to the work described herein, we
have recently commenced several other projects.
Over the past three years, the number of Chinese
weeding geese grazing a grass-alfalfa pasture be
neath fruit, nut, and fodder trees has steadily in
creased. In their own unique and often loveable
manner these creatures have impressed us. As bi
ological lawnmowers, fertilizer spreaders, and her
bicides they are effective replacements for ma
chinery and fossil fuels. And they taste a lot better
than oil!
In this same area a small ecological island has
been planted to perennials used by our bees-in
residence. The lee of an evergreen windbreak con
tains staghorn sumacs (Rhus typhina) and a mature
pussy willow (Salix discolor) interplanted with herbs
and fowers.
Near the nurseries we have planted over fifty
species of herbs. Over the next few years we will
be watching this area closely to determine insect
population levels. We will then be able to use par
ticular herbs to provide habitats for specifc insects.
These predators will assist in establishing biological
controls in our gardens and forest.
We continue to collect and propagate potentially
valuable trees and shrubs. Among these are Ori
ental and American persimmons (Diospyms kaki and
J
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JRd Hbtt 4nJ c_
FV7
7tc Ri Willow
D. virginiana), Kiwi fruit (Actinidia chinensis), jujube
(Zizyphus jujuba), blueberries (Vaccinium sp. ), el
derberries (Sambucus sp. ), catalpa (Catalpa sp.),
Buckeyes (Aesculus sp.), the Korean nut pine (Pinus
koraiensis), and shagbark hickory (Cm
y
a ovata).
Future developments within the agricultural for
estry program may include establishing fast-grow
ing hardwoods for frewood, placing nutrient-re
trieving plants near trees, working with mycorrhizal
fungi, innoculating soils with active earthworm
species, evaluating seaweed products for disease
control in fruit trees, and establishing living mulches
around fruit and nut trees.
REFERENCES
1 . EARLE BARNHART. 1979. On the feasibility of a
permanent agricultural landscape. joural of The New
Alchemists s: 73
2. EARLE BARNHART. 1980. Tree crops: creating the
foundation of a permanent agriculture. joural of The
New Alchemist 6: 57
3 BILL MoLLISON and DAVID HOLMGREN. 1978. Per
maculture One. A Perennial Agriculture for H
u
man Settle
ments. Melbourne: Transworld Publishers.
4 BILL MOLLISON. 1979. Permaculture Two. Practical
Design for Town and Countr in Permanent Agriculture.
Tasmania: Tagari.
'f ' Willo
Uvinfff r
WhrNJhw
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMiSTS NO. 7
57
Surveying and Grafting
Local and Antique Fruit
Trees
Mavis Clark
We have undertaken the task of surveying the
growth of fruit trees in the Upper Cape area in
an effort to fnd varieties that are adapted to grow
well under our local climatic conditions and to
show resistance to diseases prevailing in the area.
We aim to propagate such trees for further plant
ing throughout the town of Falmouth.
Cape Cod has the reputation of being a very
poor area for growing fruit, because its moist,
foggy weather favors the rapid spread of fungal
diseases, blights, and scabs. Commercial orchard
ists, now very few in number, spray their trees
once every week during the growing season to
combat these diseases and aphids, scale insects,
borers, and caterpillars as well.
In 1 977 and 1 978, Earle Barnhart began the
search for trees that seem well adapted to the Cape
and are known for bearing consistently good crops.
He enlisted the reliable food-foraging instincts of
adolescents by asking Falmouth High School stu
dents to pinpoint such trees. This source of local
lore produced a list of apple, pear, and peach trees
that we started to check out in more detail. The
1 977 research, which also included a survey of all
the local history books in the Falmouth Public Li
brary, revealed that the earliest settlers brought
stock and seeds of fruit trees with them and es
tablished orchards that supplied them with plen
tiful fruit.
Once Earle had tracked down high-bearing trees,
he encountered owners that were usually apolo
getic that their trees had been neglected. Everyone
was very generous in allowing us to cut off young
branches for scions in February 1 978. After cold stor
age, these either were used for whip or wedge
grafts in April, or budded in june. In 1 977 Earle had
planted the rootstock apple trees onto which these
grafts were later made, using seeds from a com
mercial nursery. The seeds originated from wild
trees in upstate New York. We have kept growth
records of the rootstock trees, photographed them
each year. They now stand about three feet tall.
During the summer of 1 979 we successfully grafted
scions from several dozen grafts of local trees onto
the rootstock. At that time we planted four antique
trees and they were ready to have scions taken
from them by the following spring. We shall check
the local trees at harvest to try to identify varieties
or at least to suggest possible parentage for them.
As peach trees are better propagated by late spring
budding, we shall graft local tree buds onto New
Alchemy trees and onto some planted in a neigh
boring yard as well.
We were given much help and information by
Howard Crowell, of Crow Farm, Sandwich, Mas
sachusetts, who runs a fne commercial orchard.
He retains some antique apple varieties along with
many newer ones, numbering nineteen in all. He
fnds that although the russet apple does not bear
as heavily as newer varieties, devotees of this fruit
will come to buy russets and usually go off with
other fruits and vegetables too. This old variety
also shows a high natural resistance to diseases. We
returned from Crow Farm with many scions, chiefy
the antique and more naturally resistant varieties.
We are seeking out other resource people on
the Cape knowledgeable of fruit orchardry. Their
hard-earned experience could help point up to us
early mistakes and lead us in turn to new
investigations.
Recycling Leaf Nutrients
Ed Goodell
For a good many years now we have been asking
area residents to bring us their leaves in the fall.
People seem to like to do this, and our soil thereby
receives a sizeable amount of nutrients.
The soil-conditioning properties of leaves are
especially appreciated on our poor, sandy soils.
Because of its capacity to absorb water and ex
change nutrients, adequate humus is essential for
a healthy soil. The humus formed from leaf decay
has a long life because leaves contain relatively
high proportions of lignin and hemicellulose, the
most lasting constituents of humus.
At New Alchemy we have realized the value of
leaves for quite a while. An early demonstration
of the benefts they confer was provided when a
young Chinese chestnut tree was planted on the
site where a leaf pile had been the preceding year.
Of 20 Chinese chestnuts planted at the same time,
it rapidly outgrew the others.
We have used leaves regularly in moderate
amounts for winter mulches, for trench compost
ing between intensive garden beds, and for mulch
ing trees. The leaf mold-the dark, crumbly hu
mus formed by gradual fungal decay and
weathering-from underneath the piles is in high
ss
demand for potting soil. We have turned leaves
under the soil in the fall to decompose over the
winter. We have also tried transforming sod into
a growing medium by mulching it thickly. This was
useful for growing potatoes and winter squashes.
We are planning to use a large bin of leaves in the
first stage of graywater treatment. Bags of leaves
can be convenient and effective insulators around
foundations, beehives, and tender young plants.
The amount of leaves at our disposal has in
creased dramatically since the fall of 1 978, when
we put up a sign at the Falmouth dump directing
potential leaf donors to the farm. The leaf pile has
advanced 100 yards from the original s
'
torage area.
We remove leaves from the end opposite that to
which they are added. As a result, the pile creeps
slowly across the landscape, leaving a swath of
nicely mulched, worm-worked soil. You may have
heard of chicken tractors.
1
Apparently we have
created a leaf tractor. Steering is easily accom
plished with movable signs that indicate where the
leaves should be deposited.
During the winter of 1 979-1 980 we estimate
that we were given 750 cubic yards (575 cubic
meters) of leaves weighing over 1 5 tons ( 1 3. 6 met
ric tons). This amount of mixed leaves contains
230 lb, or 105 kilograms (kg), of nitrogen, So lb
(36 kg) of phosphorus, and 1 30 lb (59 kg) of po
tash.2 In terms of N-P-K (nitrogen-phosphorus
potassium), this is roughly equivalent to 1 ,ooo lb
(455 kg) of 20-1 o- 1 o fertilizer, or enough to apply
'Richard Merrill, ed. Radical Agriwlture. N.Y.: Harper & Row.
'Bulletin No. 92, Clemson Agricultural College. Clemson University,
South Carolina.
more than 100 lb/acre ( 1 1 2 kg/hectare) annually
to the entire farm. In addition to the other nu
trients the leaves contain significant amounts of
calcium, magnesium, and trace minerals.
Unlike the soluble nutrients in chemical fertil
izers, those contained in leaves are released grad
ually as the leaves decay. Leaf decay can be thought
of in terms of the half life of the leaves-the time
it takes half of the material to decay. The half life
of a leaf on the forest floor is 1 2-1 8 months. The
decay process can be hastened by turning the
leaves into the soil, shredding them, or piling them
together.
Our current contributions of leaves far exceeds
New Alchemy's capacity to use them. This enables
us to accumulate large amounts of leaves for the
two or three years required for them to decompose
fully into leaf mold. A delight for worms and gar
deners alike, leaf mold holds three to five times
its weight in water, has no weed seeds, has a pH
of 55-s. o, and is very enduring i n the soil. We use it
for potting soil, to top-dress individual plants, and,
when available, for broad-scale mulching. Since
New Alchemy has prospects of a generous supply
of leaf mold, it will probably become our all-pur
pose soil amendment.
Ultimately, we would prefer that the leaves re
turn to the soil from which they grew, to enrich
that soil directly. We would like to see our leaf
donors use their own leaves, and some of our
educational efforts concern ways to encourage this.
In the meantime, the productive capacity of our
soil will continue to grow as we enrich it with a
fertile mantle of leaf mold.
Nitrogen-Fixing Trees and
Shrubs
John Quinney
Nitrogen is the most abundant element in the
earth's atmosphere and is essential for plant growth
and reproduction. However, atmospheric nitrogen
can be utilized directly by plants only after it has
been converted to either its nitrate or its ammo
nium forms. This process is known as fxation and
can be achieved either chemically or biologically.
Chemical fixation involves the reaction of at
mospheric nitrogen with hydrogen from natural
gas at elevated temperatures and pressures in the
presence of a catalyst-the Haber process. The
ammonia thus produced can be applied directly
to farmland or converted chemically to other ni
trogenous fertilizers.
Biological fixation of nitrogen is carried out by
a number of free-living organisms and also, most
importantly, by virtue of two symbiotic associations
between plants and bacteria-the rhizobium
legume assoCiation and the actinomycete
nonleguminous-angiosperm association (Table 1 ) .
Chemical fixation i s an energy-intensive pwcess;
it depends on diminishing supplies of fossil fuels.
The chemical production of 150 kilograms (kg) of
nitrogenous fertilizer (a typical per hectare appli
cation) requires 1 . 53 million kilocalories (kcal) . For
comparison, biological fxation of the same amount
of nitrogen by the legume winter vetch (Vicia vil
losa) involves a seeding cost of only go,ooo kcaJ . l
Many farmers meet the nitrogen requirements
of their land by planting legumes as green manure
crops or as a part of crop rotations. Used in these
'Pimental et al.. '973 Reference 7
6o THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Table 1. MAJOR PRESENT-DAY NITROGEN-FIXING PLANTS.
1. Free-Uving Organisms:
a) Heterotrophic bacteria, e.g., Azobacter. Clostridium, Spirillum.
Beieri nckia, Klebsiella.
b) Autotrophic bacteria, e. g. , Rhodopseudomonas, Rhodospirillum,
Thiobacillus.
c) Blue-green algae, e. g. , Aabaena. Calothrix, Nostoc, Plecto
nema, etc.
2. Root Nodule-Forming Symbioses:
a) Rhizobium-legume associations. e. g. , Glycine max (soybean),
Phaseolus vulgaris, Vicia faba (vetch), Trifolium repens (clover),
etc.
b) Actinomycete-nonleguminous-angiosperm associations, e.g.,
Alnus glutinosa (alder), Robinia pseudoacacia (black locust),
Hippophaa rhamnoidas (sea buckthorn), etc.
c) Cycad-blue-green-algae associations, e. g. , Bowenia, Cycas,
Encephalartos, elc.
'Source: W. P. D. Stewart, 1977. Ambio 6: 166.
ways alfalfa (Medicago sativa) and soybeans (Glycine
max) can supply up to 450 and 100 kg nitrogen
per hectare per year (N/halyr) respectively. How
ever, not all legumes are capable of fixing nitrogen;
for example, the legume Eastern redbud ( Cercis
canadensis) does not form root nodules and thus
does not fx nitrogen.
The nonleguminous nitrogen-fxing plants, which
are all trees and woody shrubs, have recently been
recognized as an important source of fxed nitro
gen. For example, alders (Alnus sp.) can fx up to
300 kg N/halyr and the sea buckthorn (Hippophae
rhamnoides) up to 1 80 kg N/halyr. In temperate
region forested biomes the nitrogen-fixing trees
and shrubs are usually pioneer species modifying
the soil environment and establishing favorable
conditions for succeeding trees. For example, in
the Pacifc Northwest the red alder (Alnus rubra)
is succeeded by Douglas fr (Pseudotsuga menziesii) ;
on Cape Cod, bayberry (Myrica penylvanica), sweet
fern ( Comptonia peregrina), and black locust (Robinia
pseudoacacia) are followed by pitch pine (Pinus rig
ida), and various oaks (Quercus sp. ).
The nitrogen-fxing trees and shrubs make ni
trate available to other species mainly through leaf
fall; the nitrate enters the soil when the leaves are
decomposed by soil microorganisms. Only when
the bacterial root nodules are sloughed off or the
host plant dies can nitrogen be made available
more directly. As a forest matures and the nutrient
cycles tighten because the forest has become in
creasingly effcient at processing organic matter,
nitrogen usage is increasingly conservative, and the
need for nitrogen fxation is correspondingly re
duced. In these ecosystems the small nitrogen re
quirements needed for plant structural tissue and
to replace losses by leaching are met mainly through
fxation by various free-living organisms (see Table
1 ).
In the agricultural forestry work at New Al
chemy, nitrogen-fixing trees and shrubs are im
portant components of the overall ecology.
At New Alchemy the following nitrogen-fxing
trees and shrubs are being studied:
Legumes: black locust, Scotch broom (Cytisus sco
parius), Siberian pea shrub (Camgana
a1b01escens), Albizzia julibrissin, and
honey locust (Gleditia tnacanthos) (ni
trogen-fxing ability not frmly
established).
Nonlegumes: bayberry, sweet fern, autumn olive
(Elaeagnus umbellata), Russian olive
(Elaeagnus angustifolia), Ceanothus sp. ,
alders (Alnus mgosa, A. glutinosa), and
sea buckthorn.
A collection has been established that now con
sists of plantings of honey locust, Albizzia, black
locust, Scotch broom, autumn olive, and bayberry.
Additional species will be added over the years.
This area will be used for education as well as for
testing the growth of these trees and shrubs in the
Cape Cod environment and providing propagation
materials.
The honey locust and the alders are useful fod
der trees. In New Zealand, cattle have been fed
on honey locust pods; they fall from the trees over
the three to four months of winter when other
fodder is in short supply. Foliage from alders has
been processed into silage and used to feed cattle,
and at Hampshire College in western Massachu
setts A. rugosa is being evaluated as a sheep feed.
In due course these species will be tested at New
Alchemy as livestock feeds, especially for geese and
poultry.
We have begun various interplanting experi
ments in the polycultural forest area south of the
Ark. Literature reports have documented the ben
efcial effects of black locust, alders, and autumn
olive on the growth of interplanted lumber trees,
apples, and black walnuts respectively. A stand of
young black locust trees occurs naturally in a sec
tion of this area, and we shall manage these trees
with some attendant controls on their propagation
through vegetative spreading.
We have established experimental hedges of au
tumn olive and are propagating the tree by root
and stem cuttings. The roots of these plants are
well nodulated. We are planning hedgerow plant
ings of Siberian pea shrub, Russian olive, and A.
glutinosa.
There is a named variety of the black locust (var.
"rectissima") that produces straight, durable lum
ber. Root cuttings of this variety, which is also
known as the "ship-mast locust," are being sought.
We hope to acquire and test additional species of
nitrogen-fxing shrubs such as Ceanothus sp. and
sea buckthorn.
We expect that careful integration of a variety
of nitrogen-fxing species in our agricultural for
ests will make a substantial contribution to the pro
ductivity of the forests in a way that is both en
ergetically conservative and environmentally gentle.
REFERENCES
1 . W. E. NEWTON AND C. J. NYMA, eds. 1976. Pm
ceedings of the First Interational Symposium on Nit
Fixation. Washington State University Press.
A detailed technical collection of papers concerned
with all aspects of nitrogen fxation.
2. jOHN G. ToRREY AND joHN TJEPKEMA, eds. 1979.
Symbiotic nitrogen fxation in actinomycete-nodulated
plants. Botanical Gazette 140, suppl.
The result of an informal conference held at the
Harvard Forest in April 1978. The best introduction
to the literature on these nitrogen-fxing species.
3 RoBERT H. BuRRIS. 1978. Future of biological ni
trogen fxation. BioScience z8(9) :563.
A special issue of BioScience covering crop legumes,
energetic considerations, genetic modifcations of N2-
Hedgerows and Living
Fences
John Quinney
In any agricultural landscape the most obvious
function of fences and hedgerows is to control the
movement of animals-domestic and wild-so they
will be excluded from food crops or selectively
rotated through pastures. The advantage of hedge
rows over fences is that they are multifunctional
components of the landscape and as such can be
integrated with the overall design strategy.
Perhaps one of the best-known examples occurs
in the traditional English landscape. The English
hawthorn (Crataegus sp.) was often originally planted
to replace wuuJeu post-and-rail fences, which are
subject to inevitable decay. As well as providing an
impenetrable barrier to the movement of sheep
and cattle, such hedges have other important eco
logical functions. They provide a habitat for a wide
variety of benefcial insects and birds. They facil
itate the establishment of numerous volunteer
herbs and "weeds." Cattle, sheep, and horses graz
ing on pastures thus enclosed have often been ob
served browsing these plants as well, presumably
fxing systems, algal associations, blue-green algae, and
the actinomycete-nodulated angiosperms.
4 DONALD LARSON. 1976. Nitrogen-fxing shrubs: An
answer to the world's frewood shortage? The Futuri st 74.
An analysis of the global potential of nitrogen-fxing
shrubs for soil restoration and frewood. An excellent
general introduction.
5 W. B. SILVESTER. 1977. Dinitrogen fxation by
plant associations excluding legumes. In: A Treatise of
Dinitrogen Fixation, ed. R. W. F. Hardy and A. H. Gibson,
pp. 1 41 -190. New York: John Wiley and Sons.
A detailed literature survey of all the actinomycete
nudulaLc: d s
p
c:cits. lucl udes global disLribuLiou, eco
nomic value, historical studies, methods for assessing
nitrogen increments, ecological signifcance of these
species, etc.
6. EDWARD H. GRAHAM. 1 941 . Legumes for Emsion
Control and Wildlife. USDA Miscellaneous Publication
No. 41 2, U.S. Government Printing Offce, Washington,
D.C.
An exhaustive accumulation of pre- 1940 information
on the uses of legumes (all species). Includes detailed
information on the legumes eaten by various animals.
7 DAVID PIMENTAL et al. 1973. Food production and
the energy crisis. Science 182:443-449.
supplementing their diet with nutrients not avail
able in the relatively simple pasture ecosystem. In
windy areas of the country, especially East Anglia,
the hedgerows reduced soil erosion, a function that
has only become apparent since their removal for
the sake of "effcient" large-scale agriculture.
At The New Alchemy Institute an experimental
hedge of autumn olive (Elaeagnu umbellata) has
been established and pruned to encourage dense
bottom growth. An immediate goal of these plant
ings is to control the movement of domestic geese,
restricting their access to the gardens and tree
nursery.
We have also planted living fence posts of wil
lows (Salix sp. ). Eventually, prunings from the top
of each fence post will be woven between them,
providing an effective barrier. Ultimately, annual
pruning will yield frewood.
These and other successive hedge plantings will
be designed in order to create ecological landscape
elements with diverse functions. They will be, in
effect, ecological islands in which a variety of plants
and animals may grow undisturbed by cultivation.
They will be windbreaks and a source of food for
a variety of birds and animals. For example, the
Russian olive (Elaeagnu angutifolia), an important
Midwest hedgerow species, is known to be used
for food by at least forty birds, including chickens,
; #f
#-!
) (/ll') ( U ()
4l
fil lv'ilo- (-,f Ji,,

-w

v
1't vt
ducks, and turkeys. Hedgerows planted in an east
west orientation can create local microenviron
ments with raised temperatures on the souther
exposure. Such microenvironments allow the sur
vival of plants and animals that might otherwise
be absent from the landscape. Prunings from ni
trogen-fxing hedgerows can be used as mulches
around fruit and nut trees in order to supply some
of their nutrient needs.
Although our work at New Alchemy is mainly
with hedgerows, another kind of boundary is tra
ditional here. In the years when our part of Cape
Cod was extensively farmed, local stone was used
for the construction of dry stone walls. Many of
these walls still remain in areas of the Cape that
have become forested. Their construction is ad
mittedly labor intensive, but they have the advan
tages of being relatively permanent, made from
a local resource, and largely maintenance free.
Although these walls are obviously limited in their
ecological functions, they offer a viable alternative
to hedgerows and introduce a pleasant diversity
to the landscape.
REFERENCES
1 . A. E. BORELL. 197 1 . Russian Olive jo1 Wildlife and
Other Conservation Uses. USDA Leafet No. 51 7, U.S.
Government Printing Offce, Washington, D. C.
A good general description of this plant, including
planting and management details as well as alluding to
its value to wildlife.
2. BILL MOLLISON AND DAVID HOLMGREN. 1978. Per
maculture One. A Perennial Agricultu1e for Human Settle
ments. Melbourne: Transworld Publishers.
Includes a species listing for hedgerow plantings as
well as general design considerations.
3 CYRIL L. MARSHALL. 1 977 How to make a hedg
erow English style. Countr joural 55
Establishment and maintenance of a hawthorn hedge.
4 FRD ]. NISBET. 1 977. Shelterbelts. Countr joural
48.
A general introduction to the design, planting, and
maintenance of windbreaks including a species listing.
5 E. POLLARD, M. D. HOOPER, AND N. W. MOORE.
1975 Hedges. N. Y. : Taplinger Publishing Co.
The best available text on English hedges-history,
fora and fauna, farm hedges.
Birds and Biological Pest
Control
Loie Urquhart
In observing the natural world, it is quite evident
that birds help to regulate the numbers of insects
and rodents. But since the advent of pesticides,
comparatively little attention has been paid to en
couraging birds as predators in the forest, orchard,
feld, and garden.
Birds can eat thousands of insects in a single
day, especially in the spring, the season of highest
consumption, when the birds are feeding their
young. Owls and hawks prey upon mice, rabbits,
and other small mammals that can damage fruit
trees. In the winter, nonmigratory insect eaters
such as woodpeckers, chickadees, and nuthatches
search the bark of trees for hibernating insects.
By providing nesting sites, water, and winter
shelter, we could encourage and foster populations
of benefcial birds that would regulate insect and
mammal pests.
Feeding Habits of Birds
Surveys of the feeding habits of birds conclude
that the terms insectivorous and vegetivorous in
dicate predominance in a given diet, rather than
restriction to one type of food. For instance, the
most exclusive vegetarians-the fnches, grouses,
and pigeons-sometimes eat insects, while the most
avid insect eaters-the swallows and fycatchers,
will eat berries.
From the viewpoint of the farmer or orchard
grower, insects can be classed as benefcial (which
includes parasitic and predaceous varieties) inju
rious, and neutral. Birds do eat benefcial insects,
but only, it seems, to the extent that keeps their
numbers in proportion and maintains an equilib
rium in the natural continuing fux.
Injurious insects are found in the air, on and
within leaves, on and under the bark of trees (bor
ing or hibernating insects), and on the ground.
There :re insects, such as the Mexican bean beetle,
the monarch butterfy, and some insects of the
suborder Heteroptera, that are protected from
being eaten by birds by either a hard casing, a
disagreeable odor and taste, or a camoufaging
ability to meld into their surroundings. Birds that
prey on insects can be grouped loosely, as the
fying insect patrol, the foliage cleaners, the bark
gleaners, and the ground eaters.
The Flying Insect Patrol
There are a number of birds who feed while 111
fight.
Daytime Patrol
Swifts
Swallows
Martins
Kingbirds
Phoebes
Flycatchers
Vireos
Reds tarts
Peewees
Mockingbirds
Catbirds
Hawks
Nighttime Patrol
Nighthawks
Whippoorwills
Foliage Cleaners
They Eat
Moths-gypsy moths
Cabbage worm moths
Codling moths
Cankerworm moths
Leaf-roller moths
Locusts (short-horned
grasshoppers)
Long-legged crane fies
Leafhoppers
Aphids
Long-horned grasshoppers
Hessian fies (wheat enemy)
Horsefies
Rose chafers
Winged ants
Butterfies
Beetles
They Eat
Night-fying or owlet moths
(Noctuidae)
Moths-cotton boll worms
Army worms
Cutworms
Mosquitoes
Leafhoppei
Foliage cleaners concentrate on picking destructive
insects off the leaves and branches of plants.
They Are
Warblets
Nuthatches
Chickadees
Kinglets
Robins
Catbirds
Thrushes
Ruffed grouse
Baltimore orioles
Blackbirds
Crows
(many others)
The- Eat
Le
fhoppei (Jassidae)
Plant lice or aphids (Aphidiae)
including common "green
fy"
Leaf-rollers (e.g., codling
moths)
Leaf-miners (e.g., apple leaf
miners)
Cankerworms
Cutworms
Cotton boll worms
Army worms
Hairy caterpillars
Tent caterpillars of apple and
wild cheny trees
Fall webworms
Tussock caterpillars
Gypsy moth larvae
Leaf beetles-Colorado po
tato beetles
Flea beetles
Bark Gleaners
The Eat
Striped cucumber beetles
Asparagus beetles
Corn root worms
Rose beetle (larvae feed on
roots)
Snout beetles-plum and ap-
ple curculios
Bean and pea weevils
Grain weevils
White pine borers
Spruce budworms
Many birds dig under the bark of trees for boring
and hibernating insects, as well as devouring those
on the bark itself.
They ATe
Woodpeckers
Nuthatches
Creepers
Chickadees
Warblers
Kinglets
Wrens
They Eat
Bark borers
Hibernating insects (e.g., cod-
ling moths)
Trunk borers
Timber ants
Plant lice
Bark lice
Scraping the old, rough bark from the trunk
and branches of orchard trees and covering the
bare spots with an adhesive organic mixture will
help to prevent these insects from nesting. Ringing
tree trunks with a metal piece or sticky substance
deters some insects from climbing into the tree.
Ground Eaters
A number of birds work on the ground.
They Are
Robins
Bluebirds
Blackbirds
Chipping
sparrows
Song sparrows
Wrens
Warblers
Vireos
Phoebes
Meadowlarks
Crows
Bobolinks
Flickers
Quails
Woodpeckers
Catbirds
Thrushes
Owls
They Eat
May beetles or June bugs
Tiger beetles
Rose beetles
Strawberry slugs
Root worms
Leafhoppers
Aphids
Crane-fy maggots
Cutworms
Cabbage worms
Root maggots
Grasshoppers
Chinch bugs
Army worms
Cranefies
White grubs
Root borers
Wireworms
Bollworms
They Are
Hawks
Predatory Birds
They Eat
Ants
Root lice
Larvae of plum and apple
curculios
Bean and pea weevils
Grain weevils
White pine borers
Ants (Formicidae)
Thousand-legged worms
(subclass Myriapoda;
destructive to strawberries,
but some predaceous.)
Frogs
Lizards
Snakes
Mice
Moles
Shrews
Groundhogs
Squirrels
Gophers
In winter, mice, moles, groundhogs, rabbits, and
other mammals can cause considerable damage to
the roots and trunks of orchard trees. Such rodents
normally can be discouraged from chewing the
bark of trees by wrapping burlap and/or wire mesh
around the trunks of trees. Not all damage is in
ficted at this level, however. The pine mouse bur
rows underground to chew the trunk and roots
below ground level. Groundhogs will tunnel
throughout the root systems of orchard trees and
expose the roots to oxygen in the atmosphere; this
can dehydrate them and eventually kill the tree.
Owls and hawks frequent areas where small
mammals are plentiful and help to keep their num
bers down. Owls can be attracted to houses of an
appropriate size and can act as live-in rodent
controls.
Bird Habitat
There are birds who can be persuaded to forsake
their natural habitats and live in artifcial struc
tures. The destruction of forests and the thinning
out of dead trees in orchards and woodlands has
reduced the number of available nesting sites for
many birds. If birdhouses are erected in late win
ter, before the birds are scouting for nesting lo
cations, many birds will take up residence in them,
some returning year after year. If a specifc bird
is required, it is best to put up a birdhouse spe
cifically designed for that bird. For example, if you
Table 1 . BIRDHOUSE SPECIFICATIONS FOR SELECTED BIRDS.
Floor House
Entrance Entrance Above Dimensions Depth Box Above
Species
Bluebird
Chickadee
Red-breasted nuthatch
Robin & phoebe
Barn owl
Tufted titmouse
Downy woodpecker
Hairy woodpecker
House & winter wren
Yellow flicker
Flycatcher (crested)
Diameter (In) Floor (In)
1 V2 6-7
1 Ve 6-8
6-8
Open front and sides
6
1 V.
1 V
1 V2
X 2V2
3
2
4
6-8
6-8
9-12
4-6
14-16
6-8
(In) (In) Ground (Ft.) Comments
5 X 5 8-9 5-10 Prefers on top of fence
post.
4 X 4 8-10 5-15 2-3 i n. wood shavings on
lloor. Prefers hollow log
homes.
4 X 4 8-10 5-20 Prefers hollow log-type
home.
7 X 7 8 8-12
10 X 18 15-18 12-18
4 X 4 8-10 4-5
4 X 4 8-10 6-20 Prefers hollow IogWood
shavings 2-3 in. deep.
6 X 6 12-16 1 2-20 Prefers hollow log. Wood
shavings 2-3 in. deep.
4 X 4 6-8 5-10 Especially likes gourds.
7 X 7 16-24 6-20 Prefers hollow log homes.
Sawdust 2-3 in. deep.
6 X 6 8-10 8-20 2-3 in. wood shavings.
Wood used best at % in. thickness
Martins only V2 in.
are having trouble with the cranberry moth, a box
suited to the tree swallow is wise as the tree swallow
relishes the taste of the cranberry moth. Bird
houses can be made from hollowed-out gourds,
logs, old bark nailed into the trunk of a tree, or
three-quarter-inch pine boards (see Table 1) . Houses
should have drainage and ventilation holes and
entrance holes. Size and other particulars for each
bird have been outlined by the Audubon Society.
Natural Habitat
By providing an environment in which birds can
thrive, injurious insects and rodents can be kept
to a minimum. Because birds need food, shelter,
and water it is important, when purposely attract
ing birds to an orchard or garden area, to provide
enough food for them as an alternative to culti
vated fruits and grains. They prefer the taste of
wild fruits to cultivated ones. The more diverse
the plantings, the better. The following are some
suggested plantings:
Shelterbelt plantings: Russian olive (Elaeagnus angusti
Jolia), eastern red cedar (Junipe
rus vi1giania), European beech
(Sylvatica fagus).
Hedgerows: autumn olive (Elaeagnus umbel
lata), white mulberry (Man alba),
Siberian pea shrub (Cmagana
ab01escens).
Fmit-bearing tues: mountain ash (Pyru aucuparia),
honey locust ( Gleditsia tTiacan
thos), staghorn sumac (Rhus
typhina).
Many varieties of flowers with their bright colors,
fragrant smells, and nectar attract birds. An area
left wild as an ecological island in a garden area
can provide shelter, food, and beauty for birds and
some beneficial insects. Brushpiles provide cover
and nesting sites, and can be used as a support for
plantings of wild grape or Virginia creeper.
Birdhouses
Forty-nine species of birds have been recorded to
have nested in boxes:
Mountain bluebird
Western bluebird
Eastern bluebird
Robin
Chestnut-backed
chickadee
Mountain chickadee
Carolina chickadee
Black-capped chickadee
Plain titmouse
Tufted titmouse
Red-breasted nuthatch
White-breasted nuthatch
Brown creeper
House wren
Winter wren
Bewick's wren
Carolina wren
Mockingbird
Brown thrasher
Violet-green swallow
Tree swallow
Barn swallow
Cliff swallow
Purple martin
Song sparrow
English sparrow
House finch
Purple grackle
Bullock's oriole
Orchard oriole
Starling
Eastern phoebe
Ash-throated fycatcher
Crested fycatcher
Arkansas kingbird
Red-shafted ficker
Yellow-shafted ficker
Golden-fronted
woodpecker
Red-headed woodpecker
Downy woodpecker
Hairy woodpecker
Screech owl
Saw-whet owl
Barn owl
Sparrow hawk
Mourning dove
Wood duck
American goldeneye
Hooded merganser
Birds that will nest in gourds include the following:
bluebirds, crested fycatcher, tree swallow (at
tracted to boxes also, in cranberry bogs, as they
relish the cranberry moth), tufted titmouse, wrens
(these like gourds the best), downy woodpecker,
house sparrow, starling, white-breasted nuthatch,
purple martin (the gourds should be placed in
direct sunlight, ffteen feet above ground, and far
enough apart so they won't knock together).
Winter Storm Shelters
In winter, when temperatures drop, roosting boxes
in the garden can serve as warming houses for
overwintering species.
Winter Supplementar Food
Severe winter temperatures can be fatal to birds,
so it is essential to provide supplementary food for
them when the pickings are slim, as a guarantee
that they will remain in the vicinity. Placing beef
suet, sunfower seeds, millet, and other grains in
the orchard will provide birds with the fat and
protein that they need.
REFERENCES
1 . WALLACE BAILEY. rg68. Birds ofthe Cape Cod Na
tional Seashore and Adjacent Areas. National Park Service,
U.S. Dept. of the Interior.
2 . R. L. BEARD, et al. rg6o. Handbook on biological
control of plant pests. Plants and Gardens 16(3), N. Y.:
Brooklyn Botanic Garden, 97 pp.
3 M. M. BETTS. 1955. The food of titmice i n oak
woodlands. joural ofAnimal Ecology 24: 282.
4 CHARLES H. BucKNER. 1965. The role of verte
brate predators in the biological control of forest insects.
Annual Review ofEntomology I I : 449
5 RICHARD DE GRAAF, and GRETCHEN M. WITMAN.
1979. Trees, Shrubs and Vines for Attracting Birds. Am
herst: U. Mass. Press.
6. EDWARD H. FoRBUSH. 1 905. Useful Birds and Their
Protection. Massachusetts State Board of Agriculture.
Boston: Wright and Potter Printing Co. , State Printers.
7 CATHERINE OSGOOD FoSTER. 1972. The Organic
Gardener. N. Y. : Vintage Books.
8. RICHARD T. HOLMES, jOHN C. SCHULZ, and PHILIP
NoTHNAGLE. 1979. Bird predation on forest insects: an
enclosure experiment. Science 206: 462
g. DAVID LACK. 1954. The Natuml Regulation ofAn
imal Numbers. London: Oxford Univ. Press.
1 0. GEORGE A. PETRIDES. 1972. A Field Guide to Trees
and Shrubs. 2nd ed. Boston: Houghton Mifflin Co.
1 1 . 0. S. PETTINGILL. 1970. Orithology in Labomtory
and Field. Minneapolis: Burgess Pub!. Co. , 524 pp.
1 2. CHANDLER S. ROBBINS, et al.1g66. Birds ofNorth
America. N. Y. : Western Pub!. Co. Inc., Golden Press.
1 3. J. I . RODALE and staff. 1973 . The Encyclopedia of
Organic Gardening. Emmaus, Pennsylvania: Rodale Books,
Inc. , 1 ,007 pp.
14. P. H. SCHWARTZ, JR. 1975. Control of Insects on
Deciduous Fruits and Tree Nuts in the Home Orchard-With
out Insecticides. USDA, Home and Garden Bulletin No.
2 1 1 .
15. VIRGIL E. ScoTT, et al. 1977. Cavit Nesting Birds
of North American Forests. Forest Service. USDA Agri
cultural Handbook 5 1 1 , 1 1 2 pp.
16. M. E. SoLOMON. 1976. Predation of overwintering
larvae of codling moth (Cydia pomonella L.) by birds.
Joural ofApplied Ecology. 13: 341 .
Tree Crops for Structural
Materials
Scott Stokoe
The cultivation of plants for structural materials
is an important element of forest farming. Part of
our research at New Alchemy is devoted to inves
tigating and propagating perennial plants that
yield construction materials. Throughout the long
history of cultural development, indigenous wood
products have been an important part of technical
and material development. Wood and wood prod
ucts were primary construction materials for many
preindustrial civilizations. Wood for home con
struction, agricultural fencing, tools and equip
ment, plumbing, clothing, containers, fuel, art
work, manufacturing, and as a source of chemicals
was utilized by virtually all societies, both in the
East and the West. It was only with the advent of
economically cheap (however, ecologically expen
sive) industrial materials that the reliance on wood
waned. Abundant metal goods and fencing, ubiq
uitous plastic containers, connectors, and fibers,
and a myriad of industrial byproducts all contrib
uted to the decreased use of wood products. Yet
wood is still used in many traditional ways. Part
of our tree crops program is involved in collecting
tree species with structural uses. By collecting and
propagating such trees in our tree crops program,
we expect to gain insight into their adaptability to
the Cape Cod environment and their productivity
and potential uses.
Baboo
For centuries, throughout the tropical and sub
tropical areas of the East, bamboo has provided
an abundant, naturally renewable source of build
ing material, fabricating material, and food. It has
been used in every aspect of shelter construction
and furnishing, and serves as a durable, multi
purpose material. Bamboo has a vast number of
uses in the home, from framing members, sheath
ing, and roofng to plumbing, furniture, and kitchen
utensils. Further processing of bamboo stalks, known
as culms, results in materials for baskets, screens,
and fences. Bamboo is also a source of paper pulp.
Bamboo culms for construction are generally the
strongest when cut at the age of three years. In
central China, bamboo is raised in agricultural for
estry programs for both food and structural ma
terials. When cut at the sprouting stage, bamboo
stalks are edible. They generally require peeling
and steaming. With fertilization and thinning, a
mature stand of bamboo can produce one ton of
food on a hectare of land (2. 47 acres) in one year.
This planting also provides Soo mature culms for
structural use. Thus today as in the past, bamboo
offers a dual crop from a single planting.
Such attractive characteristics have prompted us
to incorporate bamboo into our tree crops re
search. In early 1 980 we made an expedition to
a USDA research station near Savannah, Georgia,
and came home with a fne collection of 22 hardy
species of oriental bamboo. We are observing their
growth and development at the farm, and are be
ginning to investigate their uses. We plan a spring
harvest of sprouts for eating and processing of
mature culms for weaving into baskets and to use
as structural members for hangings and supports.
We are presently designing a bamboo condensa
tion-gutter system for the Ark taking advantage
of some of the larger stalks we retrieved from
Georgia. We split some of the large-diameter culms
and removed the internodal membranes to form
long troughs to catch and direct condensation to
collecting basins. Stakes can be cut from culms and
used to support tomatoes, beans, or other vining
plants. For larger supports, such as trellises, sec
tions of bamboo can be lashed or nailed together.
Baskets are made from split bamboo frames and
weavers. A sharp knife, machete, or fxed blade
can be used to split bamboo lengths into pliable
weaving materials.
It is important to stress here that we are taking
a necessary precaution with the bamboo. We re
alize that care must be taken when introducing a
new or foreign plant into a bioregion. As com
pletely as possible, the ecological ramifcations
must be considered. The scope of such consider
ations should span more than a single human gen
eration. The ideal projected cultivating regime
should remain ecologically benign if left unat
tended. Bamboo that survives in colder climates
generally will spread rapidly, a characteristic that
merits concern. Running bamboo is a self-propa
gating plant that expands its domain by sending
out shoots horizontally underneath the ground.
These shoots are capable of traveling long dis
tances and are able to penetrate the smallest crev
ices or openings. Its strength can be witnessed by
noting its ability to sprout up through asphalt
driveways and through cracks in foundations and
into buildings. Because of this, a part of our bam
boo research is a search for an effective, simple
root wall to contain the bamboo plantings. We are
testing a standard three foot deep, poured con
crete retaining wall and a buried vertical fberglass
sheet for containing the roots.
Traditional Coppicing Trees
There has been a comparable coevolution of civ
ilization and an annual cropping of woody plants
in Western as well as Eastern cultures. Of partic
ular interest to us is the coppicing tradition of
Western Europe. Coppicing is a form of perennial
harvesting of wood. The word coppice comes from
the Norman French word couper, "to cut," and
denotes a form of selectively cropping from trees
without taking the life of the tree as occurs in
timbering. Coppicing is generally done by the
ground-level cutting of certain trees capable of
producing a new growth of shoots from the orig
inal root system the following year. In Western
European cultures traditional coppice trees in
cluded alder (Alnus sp.), hazel (Corlus sp.), oak
(Quarcus sp. ), poplar, (Populus sp. ) beech (Fag
sp.), and willows (Sali sp.). Each wood derived
from these trees had a specifc use. Hazel trees
were cropped for hoops for baskets, twine for
tying, and poles and stakes for agricultural struc
tures and fences. A seven-year harvesting cycle
offered optimally sized wood for bending and stak
ing. Alder trees, which were harvested every nine
years, produced a continual supply of rafter poles
for roofs and other constructions and a durable
water-resilient sole for clogs. Willow is one of the
most diverse and versatile producers. It is a fex
ible, fast-growing wood, and particular varieties
were grown for certain products. Some species
were coppiced for weaving materials for baskets
after one or two years growth. Others were grown
larger for carving and for making household
items; yet others were grown for frewood. A
unique system evolved for natural, growing fences.
A series of willow trees was planted in a row, in
a suitable position for fence posts. After the trees
matured, smaller upper branches were cut and laid
in and out, weaving fashion, between the trunk
posts. These bra
n
ches formed the fencing mate
rial, and were used to build up and maintain the
proper fence height. The living fence posts would
sprout and grow new branches, which would be
later used in turn for fencing. This practice of
cutting trees off at some height above the ground
is known as polla1ding and in European cultures
was generally used on trees in pastures. The wood
was taken at a height above the reach of the cattle
to allow the foliage to regenerate. Pollarding beech
trees provided frewood on a 1 o-16 year cycle and
oak trees on a 24 year cycle. Oak bark was a com
mercial source of tannin, a chemical used in the
tanning of leather.
We have begun to culture some of these tradi
tional coppicing trees. We have created a willow
nursery to propagate large numbers of young wil-
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 6g
-it
low trees. These are mainly European varieties that
we selected for specific functions like weaving,
growing natural fences, and frewood. So far these
trees have demonstrated their adaptability and
hardiness. From the basket-weaving variety come
long, thin one-year-old cuttings that we can peel
or store for later use. When the branches are
soaked, the wood becomes very pliable, best for
weaving baskets, boxes, and pots. We can use some
of the early growth of branches for twine and
tying. And we are also planning to establish a living
fence with one of the willow varieties. Another
project is a coppicing program for our eight-year
old hazel trees. We will be coppicing a few trees
each year and using the wood for a poultry forage
system in the form of a woven protective structure
that allows poultry to feed on living plants without
overharvesting. The hazel poles will also be used
as stakes in the gardens for tomato and bean
plants.
REFERENCES
1 . RoBERT AusTIN, DANA LEVY, and KoiCHIRO UEDA.
1980. Bamboo. New York: John Weatherhill, Inc., 21 0
pp.
Inspirational photographic account of th

beauty an?
functional elegance of bamboo. Information on
lu
vation and uses are covered, drawing from the tradition
and craftsmanship of the East.
2. HERBERT L. EDLIN. 1973. Woodland Crafts in Brt
ain. London: Country and Gardeners Book Society, 177
PP
.
. I B
.
. h A fascinating compilation of the tradtttona
.
n1s
woodcrafting. Details and photographs explam sktlls,
tools, techniques, and trees.
3 jAMES L. JoNES. 1979. Bamboo for northern gar
dens
.
Horticulture. LVII, 7: 24.
A basic back-yard explanation of the nature and use
of bamboo in temperate climates.
Weaving With Willow
Marann Fameli and Earle Barhart
Basketry is one of the oldest arts. It has been prac
ticed by nearly all cultures and can be traced back
over six thousand years. Baskets remain integral
to many cultures and they have many uses in ag
riculture and commerce. Baskets are strong, du
rable, and functional; their construction and use
is an important example of human-scale technol
ogy. Though the skills of basketry have been nearly
forgotten by Americans, there are still a few ar
tisans who practice this craft.
Many pliable materials are used for weaving bas
kets. Before easy transportation overtook us, the
basketmaker made use of such natural materials
as sweet grass, rye straw, grapevines, bra
ble
briars, willow rods, and bamboo. In the Umted
States today, weaving materials are largely imported.
At New Alchemy we have begun to grow our
own weaving materials. We have been able to ob
tain cuttings from the varieties of willows grown
for the basketry trade in Europe. These "basket
willows" include several species and varieties (Salix
purpurea, Salix viminalis, and othe
.
rs). We are
.
aware
of no commercial sources of wJllow rods m the
United States, yet experiments indicate that they
can be grown easily. By propagating them we shall
soon have our own willow crop and be able to
supply ourselves and ?thers.
Willow has characteristics that allow it to be used
for many agricultural purposes, the most common
being garden baskets for harvesting an? storing
vegetables. Sifting sieves, trays, and drymg racks
are other common willow implements. Our plan
is to use willow for potting shrubs and small trees
because it is long lasting and relatively weather
resistant.
7
As some of the aquaculture research at New Al
chemy becomes ever more intricate and recondite,
at least to a layperson (like me), it is well to keep
in mind that its underlying rationale is quite simple
and easily grasped-beyond the obvious fact that
we like fish. What we are attempting to do in a
hungry world is to develop ways of producing pro
tein that are both economical and ecological. The
first of the articles that follow illustrates this point
most clearly. In growing and testing alterative fish
foods, Bill McLarey and Jeff Parkin are trying both
to reduce the costs of raising fish and to discover
food sources for fish, such as earthworms, that
produce adequate growth yet could not as readily
be fed directly to people, as could soybeans or
grains for example.
The articles on closed-system aquaculture, de
scribing our research with solar-algae ponds, may
seem more obscure, but the goals and ethics of
the research are the same as those that prompt
Bill's and Jeff's work. For readers who find them
selves struggling with some of it, Donella Meadows,
the brilliant systems analyst, best known for the
"Limits to Growth" study, has written:
You already appreciate the innovative design of the
NAI programs and the valuable scientific and practical
lessons that are being leared. What I'd like to point
out is the unique and useful process they have evolved
for direct interaction between a simulation model of
their aquaculture systems and management of those
systems.
As you probably know, I teach modeling and policy
design, and I've been involved with or an advisor to
projects using computer simulation in many fields and
for many purposes. I often lecture to my students
about the ideal process of give-and-take between the
model builder and the model user. But I have never
seen that ideal achieved-except at New Alchemy.
There John Wolfe has managed to keep his models
transparent, directed to the actual problems of the
group, and fexible to the changing knowledge and
concers of the group. He has transmitted a growing
understanding of feedback structure and system dy
namics to the others at NAI, while they were trans
mitting to him their knowledge, ideas, and hunches
about aquaculture systems. The staff has been open
to this new method of integrating their insights, con-
structively critical as the model evolved, and alert to
discrepancies or consistencies between model pre
dictions and real events. The result is a model that is
an effective communication tool with which chemists,
zoologists, and engineers can point out the connec
tions among light penetration, ammonia concentration,
and fish growth. New experiments can be designed
and tested both in the model and in the solar ponds.
And there is a tighter link between theory and practice
than I have ever seen elsewhere; a fast cycling be
tween the deductive and inductive phases of the sci
entific method. It really warms the heart of an old
modeling proponent like me to see just once this pow
erful tool used with just the right mixture of skepticism
and enthusiasm and with frequent checks back and
forth between the model and the real world.
I'd also suggest that they document fully the ex
periments, not only the model, but also the process
by which they have integrated the two. And I would
hope that this description would be published in the
scientific literature, to reach the vast audience that
unfortunately has not caught on to New Alchemy's
excellent self-produced publications.
Those of us who find ourselves a bit out of our
depth in some of the details that Ron Zweig, David
Engstrom, and John Wolfe write about and who
lack Donella Meadows' expertise to analyze it, per
haps will be pleased to lear that much of the con
clusion is hopeful, in the sense of providing food
within the given paradigm and using computer sim
ulation to test and improve ecological design.
N.J. T.
Atertves to Comercia Feeds
i te Diets of Cutured Fish
William 0. McLarey and jeffrey Parkin
One of the major impediments to the further de
velopment of aquaculture in North America is the
cost of conventional fsh feeds. A partial solution
to the problem is to grow fsh less dependent on
high-quality animal protein than the channel cat
fsh (lctalurus punctatu) and rainbow trout (Sabno
gai1dne-i) that dominate commercial aquaculture
on this continent. At New Alchemy this approach
is best exemplifed by the cultivation of blue tilapia
(Sarotherodon aureus) in algal "soups" where these
flter feeders derive much of their nourishment
from the phytoplankton (algae) that surround
them. However, if satisfactory yields are to be ob
tained, we fnd it necessary to supplement the diets
of even these fsh with animal protein.
We also must acknowledge that for many po
tential fsh culturists tilapia are not the best fsh.
In some places they are illegal. In the deep South,
where they might survive the winter in the wild,
we discourage their use for ecological reasons. In
some places it may be impractical to provide water
warm enough for tilapia culture. And some people
simply prefer other types of fsh.
Yet in attempting to identify North American
counterparts of the tilapia, one comes up against
a quirk of evolutionary fate. With very few excep
tions (notably the buffalofshes, Ictiobus spp. ), the
North American flter feeding fshes are small or
otherwise unsuited for cultivation as food animals.
Some of our native panfshes, for example the
bullheads and sunfshes, have less-exacting dietary
requirements than channel cats or trout, but they
are carnivores nonetheless. In fact, it is our ex
perience that the term herbivme, as applied to fsh,
lacks precision. Most "herbivorous" fsh, including
tilapia, are opportunistic feeders, and beneft from
74
Table 1 . APPROXIMATE COSTS ASSOCIATED WITH A 4 FT x 3 FT x 8 IN.
EARTHWORM BED.'
Initial stock (at maximum density)
Concrete block bed . . . . . .
. . . . . 30 lbs @" $4/lb = $120
50 l bs l i me (powdered limestone) . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
35
2
4
3
50 strips of litmus paper . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
2 cubic f peat moss (bedding additive)
This cost can be reduced by half for each 3 months you allow the initial stock of worms to reproduce
and grow under optimum conditions without harvesting. In fact, this is recommended not only for
financial reasons but also to gain some working experience prior to relying on the worms.
These qualities are sufficient for a minimum of 1 year.
inclusion of a certain amount of animal protein in
their diets.
Faced with these facts, many beginning fsh cul
turists give up searching for an alternative to com
mercial processed feeds. Others simply give up.
There is no gainsaying the effectiveness of pro
cessed feeds in most situations. They offer a bal
anced diet and, when used properly, usually result
in good growth, particularly of the species for
which they are formulated. Of equal importance
in their popularity is the convenience factor. It is
just plain handy to feed a dry, packaged product
that can be stored until needed, weighed precisely,
and used without fuss or mess.
Over half of the production budget of a com
mercial catfsh farmer goes for feed, and this is
the rule throughout American aquaculture. The
principal ingredients of commercial feeds include
fsh meal derived from marine fsheries, grains,
and synthetic vitamins. In view of the costs of ob
taining these materials (including the petroleum
related costs of fshing, agriculture, and vitamin
manufacture) plus the costs of processing, pack
?ging, and shipping, the price of fsh feed is sure
to rise.
Ecological reasoning also suggests the need for
an alternative. The conversion of inexpensive fsh
into fsh meal in order to make a feed for expensive
fsh may be economically justifable in certain sit
uations, but it is not going to result in cheap food
or solve any human nutritional problems. In fact,
as Israeli aquaculturist Gerald Schroeder points
out, conventional North American aquaculture,
using fsh-meal-based feeds, results in a net loss
of fsh. Although alternative sources of animal
protein might now prove impractical on a large
scale, earthworms and fying nocturnal insects are
already available to the small-scale fsh producer.
Earthworms
The earthworm is the archetypical fsh bait. Though
its status as a favored food of freshwater fsh is
frmly entrenched in folklore, to our amazement
we have not been able to fnd one paper in the
scientifc literature dealing with earthworms as a
compouenl of cultured fsh diets, despite the ease
with which they can be cultured. (Some of their
other attractive features for the small-scale, diver
sifed food grower as well as details of earthworm
culture are discussed in the ffthjoumal. 1 Common
sense and access to a good resource book2
should
enable any interested person to raise earthworms
successfully.
In brief, earthworm culture entails providing
housing, routine feeding and watering, and main
taining an approximately neutral pH and suitable
temperatures in the "bedding" where the worms
live. Most cultured earthworms exhibit greatest
vitality at 16-27 C, or 60-80 F. Inexpensive
housing may be provided by scrounging an old
sink, bathtub, or refrigerator liner, or by con
structing a plywood or concrete block container.
Feeding should be done every two to four days
(depending upon the type of feed) with household
garbage, paper products, animal manures-almost
anything that is biodegradable. It is said that the
average American family of four generates enough
biodegradable "wastes" to feed a 4 ft x 3 ft x 8
in. earthworm bed generously. Maintaining a pH
near neutral is easier than it may sound; buffering
is accomplished simply by dusting the feed with
lime at feeding time. Table 1 summarizes the costs
associated with starting up a 4 ft x 3 ft x 8 in.
bed.
We have assumed one of the more expensive
types of housing; this cost can be substantially re
duced by using one of the options mentioned in
the preceding paragraph. No costs are assigned to
feed, bedding, or water; most readers will be able
to supply the frst two free and will be ridding
themselves of a potential nuisance in the process.
No monetary value has been assigned to labor,
but during a two-week period with fve feedings
(including watering and buffering the pH) and one
pH sample, a generous estimate of the time in
vested in our system was 1 1/2 hours, or six minutes
'Jeffrey Parkin. Some other friends of the earth. joural ofthe New
Alchemit. s: 69-
7
2.
'Gaddie and Douglas. Ea.rthwom> for Ecolog and Proft. Vol. I. Book
worm Pub. Co. 254 pp.
a day. To this should be added the labor of setting
up a bed, which will vary quite widely according
to the type of housing and bedding selected.
While harvesting earthworms will never be as
convenient as pulling a handful of pelleted feed
out of a bag, it is greatly facilitated by restricting
food distribution to certain areas of the bed (e.g.,
along either side), which serves to concentrate the
worms.
This practice also reduces the amount of bed
ding harvested with the worms. In weighing worms
used as fish feed, some allowance must be made
for the percentage bedding, which will remain rel
atively constant as long as the composition of the
bedding and the method of feeding are not rad
ically altered. So, after one or two samples, one
can weigh the worms as they come out of the bed.
Unlike most artificial and many natural fsh
feeds, earthworms sink in water. A foating feed
is essential in cage culture and desirable in most
forms of fish culture, as it permits the culturist to
observe feeding and prevents loss of feed in bot
tom sediments. We get around the problem with
worms by using a special feeder, which consists of
no more than a piece of perforated styrofoam on
which the worms are spread. As worms instinc
tively flee the light, they pass down through the
holes into the water and are eaten one by one. In
addition to floating the worms, this system tends
to equalize the distribution of worms among the
fsh. It also cleans the worms, since much of the
bedding drops off as they slither down through
the holes.
Bedding-free worms may be obtained simply by
rinsing with water, but some allowance must be
made for water clinging to the worms when they
are weighed. A method that we prefer involves
spreading the earthworms and bedding thinly over
a sheet of burlap or other loosely woven material
located under a light source and waiting 10-1 5
minutes. Seeking to avoid the light, the worms will
crawl through the burlap and in the process be
stripped of any bedding.
Flying Insects
There are many other organisms that may be cul
tured as fsh food, but an alternative strategy is
the capture of creatures that occur naturally in
abundance. Among the most apparent sources are
nocturnal flying insects, which may be captured
with an ultraviolet light trap. Two types of traps
are commercially available. The frst, originally
developed for pest control, employs an electrifed
grid that, with a fash of light and a crackle, elec
trocutes insects that light on it. On a "busy" night,
the racket is considerable. A second, quieter type
was developed specifcally as a source of fsh food.
An impeller fan sucks in the attracted insects and
blows them down through a duct into a collector
bag or directly onto the water. (See Figure 1 . )
We have used both types of bug traps, but prefer
the fan type because it is quieter and safer. We are
also not sure what "frying" does to the nutritional
value of insects. Of the available impeller fan feed
ers we can recommend the Will-a-the-Wisp, made
by Hedlunds of Medford, Wisconsin. We have op
erated several of these feeders for up to three
years, with no maintenance beyond replacement
of a bulb. As of spring 1 980, the Will-a-the-Wisp sells
for $1 40. It draws one kilowatt hour of electricity per
1 2 hours of operation, which a tour present rate costs
less than three cents a night.
The "bug season" on Cape Cod extends roughly
from June through September. Even during this
period nightly yields can vary dramatically, from
literally nothing on a windy, wet evening to as
much as 1 1 5 grams (g), or 1/4 lb, on a warm, calm, dry
night. Over the past seasons the average nightly
yield of our feeders, equipped with collecting bags,
Figure I. Cross-sectionol view of Hedlund-like bug light.
Figure 2. Recirculating aquaculture system. Tonks interconnected with airlift tubes.
has been 1 6. 2 g. It is our impression that, when fea
sible, the lights should be operated without bags,
and catches will improve. Certainly better results
will be obtained directly over water; not only is the
feld of the light less obstructed than in most ter
restrial locations,
.
but one can take advantage of
insects emerging from the aquatic larval stage.
The kinds of insects captured do not vary nearly
as much as their quantity. Apart from a very oc
casional lacewing, we do not get known beneficial
insects as long as the lights are turned off at dawn.
The bulk of our catches is composed of midges
and moths; over water other types might
predominate.
The Fish
The fsh species used in this study were the main
stays of New Alchemy aquaculture, the blue tilapia
and the yellow bullhead (lctalun.I natalis). Blue ti
lapia, an African cichlid, is the principal fsh in
New Alchemy's solar-algae pond research, and is
described elsewhere in this as well as past joumals.
Its natural adult diet consists mainly of plant pro
teins. When young, however, it tends to be a more
opportunistic feeder. The yellow bullhead, a native
North American catfish, is similarly predominant
in our cage culture research. It is a bottom-feeding
carnivore whose natural diet consists of small in
vertebrates. The hardiness of both these spectes
makes them ideal experimental animals.
The Experimental Set-Up
The seven feeding trials described in this article
were carried out in a recirculating system com
posed of twelve 5o-gallon cylindrical tanks intercon
nected with airlift tubes (see Figure 2).
By recirculating the water we attempted to
equalize any effects of water quality on growth.
The siphon intakes were covered with nylon screens
to eliminate the exchange of fsh and/or food be
tween tubes. Water fowed through the system at
an average of 1 . 9 liters/minute (0.5 gallons/min
ute). As there was no purifcation system, 25% of
the water was siphoned off from the bottom of
each tube every month and replaced with tap
water. Light was provided 14 hours/day by two
overhead fluorescent fxtures. The bottom 18 inches
of the tubes was wrapped with black plastic to give
the bullheads a refuge with some semblance of
"cover."
Diets Tested
The experimental diets were made up of three
components in varying percentages: mixed noc
turnal fying insects, as captured by a Will-o-the
Wisp bug light fsh feeder; cultured earthworms
(Eisenia foetida); and the commercial feed Purina
Trout Chow (henceforth referred to as PTC).
The purpose was to determine what portion, if
any, of a standard PTC. diet could be replaced by
either of the two fresh feeds without loss of growth,
and if a small fresh dietary supplement added to
a normal PTC feeding regime could result in in
creased growth. Because of the size of our fsh and
the pellet size of feed available, we ground the
PTC and used that portion retained by a 1 .0 milli
meter (mm) sieve. The earthworms also had to be
chopped, into 2-4 mm lengths, to make them ac
ceptable to the fsh and to ensure even distribution
of this feed among the individual fsh. Insects were
weighed and fed fresh, as captured, except that
some of the largest moths were removed.
All feeding was done while the lights were on.
At least four hours separated feeding of one com
ponent of a mixed diet from another, so that nei
ther feed was wasted as a result of preference by
the fsh for one or another.
In each of the trials, one of four diets was fed
to three tanks of fsh. In the tilapia trials there
were eight individual fsh per tank, fn clipped so
that they could be individually weighed. Twenty
Table 2. FEEDING TRIALS 1 AND 2 WITH TILAPIA.
Mean
Initial
Trial Diets Wt.
No. " PTC % Worms % Bugs (glfi sh)
A 3. 0 0 3.9
B 3. 0 0.5 4.6
c 2. 5 0.5 4.1
D 1 .5 1 .5 4.5
A 3. 0 0 5.6
2
B 3.0 0.5 5. 4
c 2. 5 0. 5 5.8
D 1 .5 1 .5 5.6
unmarked bullheads were kept in each tank and
weighed as a group. After weighing, all fsh were
returned to their tanks, except following Trial 6,
when all the bullheads were randomly redistri
buted among the tanks. No group of three tanks
received the same diet in two consecutive trials.
Results: Tilapia
Two replicate trials were conducted with tilapia.
Water temperatures over Trials 1 and
.
2 ranged from
2I . g
o
-23 3
o
C (7I .5
o
-74 0
o
F), and 23. 0
o
-244o C
(73
5-76.0
F), respectively.
Diurnal fuctuations in temperature never ex
ceededo.30C( 1 . 00F). Table 2 and Figure3 summarize
the results of these two trials.
Although the results obtained with diet B in
Trial 1 are inconsistent with the rest of the data,
Trials 1 and 2 suggest that with increased replace
ment of PTC by earthworms, the growth rate of
Mean
Gain
(glfish) % Gain" F' Significance'
1 .5 38.6
1 . 2 26.3
6.2 <97.5%
1 . 5 36.6
1 . 1 23.7
2.0 35.2
1 . 8 34.2
15. 8 <99.5%
1. 7 29.2
1 .2 21 . 9
Percent of total fishes' body weight fed daily (applies throughout tables).
"Based upon total weights. not the listed means (applies throughout tables).
'The two columns at the right in Tables 2-5 are the results of a statistical test called analysis of variance. This numerical manipulation basically
takes into account variations (in growth rates) between the fish in individual tanks relative to variations between fish in tanks grouped by different
diets; this is reflected in the F values. In so doing, one can get some measure of the probability that the overall observed results occurred as
an outcome of the experiment and not by chance. The percentages in the Significance columns depict this probability. By statistical convention
(and a conservative lot they are), any degree of significance less than 90% is considered chancy and of no statistical value.
78
100.0
90.0
80.0
70.0
60.0
50.0
40.0
30.0
20.0
10.0
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
r-
-
-
-
Oilt! A
Trio/ f. I
r-
1-
-
c 0
Figure 3. Results of lilopio feeding trials, nos. I and 2.
1-
1-
A c 0
Table 3. FEEDING TRIALS 3 AND 4 WITH YELLOW BULLHEADS.
Mean
Initial
Trial Diet Wt.
No. % PTC % Worms % Bugs (glish)
E 3.0 0 0.76
F 3.0 0.5 0.79
3
G 2.5 0.5 0.80
H 1 .5 1 .5 0.76
E 3.0 0 1 .2
F 3.0 0.5 1 .2
4
G 2.5 0.5 1 .3
H 1. 5 1 5 1.3
tilapia was reduced. Nor did the addition of a small
percentage of worms to a 3% PTC diet improve the
growth rate.
In a previous experiment at New Alchemy in
which worms were fed to blue tilapia, similar
amounts of earthworms were effective in increas
ing growth over that obtained with a base diet of
roasted soy meal and rolled oats fed at the rate of
percent of body weight per day.3 Although the fsh
in this earlier experiment, unlike those in the cur
rent trials, were maintained in an algal "soup,"
their base diet contained no animal protein.
Results: Bullheads
Trials 3 through 7 were conducted with yellow bull
heads and yielded more encouraging results than
the tilapia trials. Trials 3 and 4 formed a pair of
replicates, as did Trials s and 6. Trial 7 was not
replicated.
During Trials 3 and 4 water temperatures ranged
from 22. 2-23.3 C (72.0-740 F) and 2 1 .7-2s.6o
C ( 71 . 0-78.0 F) respectively. Diurnal fluctuations
in temperature did not exceed 0.3 C ( 1 .0 F). The
experimental diets used in these trials were the
same as those used with tilapia in Trials 1 and 2.
The fact that the growth rates are greater in
Trial 3 than in Trial 4 can be attributed to better
water quality in Trial 3, to the early effect of in
creased feed rations (these fsh had been kept at
subsistence levels prior to Trial 3), and to the slightly
smaller size of the test fsh in Trial 3
Table 3 and Figure 4 summarize the data from
these two trials.
Unlike tilapia, yellow bullheads do appear to
derive signifcant nutritional benefts from earth
worms either as a supplement to a normal PTC
diet, or as a substitute for PTC at least up to so%.
Since in both Trials 3 and 4 the growth rate for diets
E (PTC with no supplement) and H (half PTC and
'William 0. McLarney and Jeffrey Parkin. Cage culture. joumal
ofthe New Aliumit. 6: 8
3
-88.
Mean
Gain
(glish)
0.42
0.51
0.47
0.40
0.40
0.61
0.54
0.44
% Gain F Significance
54.7
64.3
1 .9 >90.0%
58.4
52.5
34.4
52.1
1 1 .3 <99.5%
41. 8
34.8
100.0
90.0
80.0
70.0
60.0
50.0
40.0
30.0
20.0
10.0
Dls G H
Trio/ no. I
Figure4. Resultsofyellowbullhood feedlng lriol no. 4. (rial 3 not
shownasthesignifkoncewoslenthan 90.)
half worms) were nearly identical, while supple
mentation with worms or substitution with a lower
proportion of worms produced improved growth,
it is possible that so% represents the highest pro
portion of worms that can be substituted for PTC
without adversely affecting growth. Higher pro
portions, or perhaps an all-earthworm diet, will be
tested in future trials.
It is instructive to look at the feed conversion
in Trial 4 Commercial aquaculturists, using dry
feeds, consider anything less than 2 .o respectable and
aim to hit close to 1 .0. In Trial 4, both diets E and
H resulted in feed conversions of approximately
1 .0. The small additions of earthworms in diets F
and G produced conversions of o. 81 and o.87 re-
'Feed conversion is the ratio of the amount of feed fed to the gain
in weight of the animal. Theoretically, it is impossible to achieve a
conversion less than 1 .o, since that would indicate that output (growth)
exceeded input (feed). However, when one is using an essentially dry
feed, such as most commercial feeds, and measuring wet weight of
fsh, such fgures are possible since the weight of fsh includes the
water in fsh tissue. In almost all outdoor situations there is also some
input of "natural" feed, which causes the conversion ratio of the feed
supplied by the aquaculturist to appear lower than it really is. Input
of "natural" feeds is virtually nil in indoor experiments.
Table 4. FEEDING TRIALS 5 AND 6 WITH YELLOW BULLHEADS.
Mean
Initial Mean
Trial Diet
Wt. Gain
No. % PTC % Worms % Bugs (glish) (glfish) % Gain F Significance
I 3.0 0 0 1 .7 0.67 39.0
5
J 3.0 0 1.0 1 . 5 1 .6 1 00.8
504.2 <99.5%
K 2. 0 0 1.0 1 .8 1 .6 84.7
L 2. 0 1 .0 0 1 .8 0.89 49.8
I 3.0 0 0 3.0 1 . 1 34.7
6
J 3.0 0 1 .0 2. 7 1. 7 64.1
15.0 <99.5%
K 2.0 0 1 .0 2.9 1. 5 50.4
L 2. 0 1 .0 0 2. 9 1. 2 42.1
100.0
-
r-
90.0
-
r-
80.0 -
70.0 -
-

60.0 -
j
so.o
40.0
- - r-
-
r-
r-
-
30.0 -
20.0 -
10.0 -
Dets I J K l I J K l
r<ol no I
Figure S. Resuhsof yellow bullheod feeding ttlols, nos. 5 and 6.
spectively (based on dry weight of worms). It is
evident that the effect of the earthworms cannot
be accounted for in terms of their protein content
alone. The addition of worms was, through some
mechanism, improving the effciency with which
the fish were utilizing their feed. A similar syn
ergistic effect was observed in feeding Chironomid
midge larvae to tilapia.5
Replicate feeding Trials 5 and 6, incorporating
fying insects as well as earthworms, were con
ducted with the same group of yellow bullheads.
The water temperature ranges were 23. 3-25.6 C
(74.0-78.o F) over Trial 5, and 2 1 . 1 -24- 4 C
(70.0-76.0 F) over Trial 6. Diurnal temperature
fluctuations did not exCfed 0.5 C (2.0 F). Table
4 and Figure 5 summarize the information from
these two trials.
There are a few published studies dealing with
the use of ultraviolet bug lights in fish culture,6
but to our knowledge these two feeding trials are
William 0. McLarney, Joseph S. Levine, and Marcus M. Sherman.
Midge culture. joural ofthe Ne Alchemi sts. 3:8o-8
4
.
'Heidinger, 1 9
7
1 ; Newton and Merkowsky, 1 9
7
6.
the frst in which measured amounts of insects cap
tured by this means were fed to fsh and compared
with other feeds. It may surprise some readers that
bullheads, which are not surface feeders in nature,
would feed on fying insects, which float. However,
in these trials and in other situations at New Al
chemy, captive yellow bullheads learned to accept
this food the frst time it was presented.
As is obvious from Table 4 and Figure 5 Trials 5
and 6 resulted in signifcant and parallel trends.
The control diet plus a supplement of captured
insects (diet J) yielded by far the greatest growth.
The partial substitution of .insects for the control
diet resulted in the next highest growth (diet K).
When earthworms were substituted in the same
proportion as the insects, resultant growth was less,
but it was still signifcantly greater than for the
control diet. The control diet (I) of PTC again
produced the lowest growth, albeit good in its own
right. There was once more an overall reduction
in the growth rates (percent gains) between these
frst and second replicate trials. Greater initial size
at the start ofTrial 6 and a o.8 C (3 F) temperature
drop may have contributed to this.
So THE jOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Table 5. FEEDING TRIAL 7 WITH YELLOW BULLHEADS.
Mean
Initial Mean
Trial
Diet WI. Gain
No. %PTC % Worms %Bugs (glfish) (glfish) % Gain F Significance
M 4.0 0 4.0 1. 9 47.4
7
N 4.0 0.5 4.1 2.2 54. 8
13.8
0 3.0 0.5 3. 8 2.0 51. 3
<99.5%
p 3.0 1 .0 3.6 1.9 53.0
The three tanks receiving this diet ranked first, second, and twelfth (last) overall. The tank that ranked twelfth (35.4% weight gain) appeared
to be an anomaly and we have thus omitted it from the data presented here.
100.0 -
90.0
-
80.0 ,-
70.0 -
-
,
c 60.0
&
-
,-
-
-
-
i 50.0
i 40.0
30.0
20.0
-
10.0
Oiet. M N 0 p
Tr;ol no. ,
Figure 6. Resulls of yellow bullheod feeding trial no. 7.
Once again feed conversion was affected by sup
plementation or substitution of a portion of the
PTC diet with fresh feeds. The conversion for diet
I (all PTC) was 1 .o; for the earthworm-substituted
diet (L) it was o.86, and the insect supplemented or
substituted diets U and K) produced conversions
of 0. 75 and 0. 7 1 respectively.
Further trials with fying insects were not pos
sible because of the end of our "bug season," but
one more earthworm trial (Trial 7) was carried out.
The purpose of this trial was to investigate the
feasibility of further increasing the basic PTC ra
tion to 4. 0% of total body weight daily, with or with
out supplementation, and to compare such diets
with supplemented diets based on the normal feed
ing rate of 3. 0%. Table 5 and Figure 6 summarize the
results of this trial.
The results indicate that even at higher rates of
feeding, supplementation with worms increased
the growth rate of yellow bullheads, and that diets
0 and P (3. 0% PTC supplemented with o.s% and
1 .0% worms, respectively) were superior to a 4%
daily feeding of PTC alone. Conversions for diets
M through P were, respectively, 1 .0, o.g8, o. 82,
and o. go, once again indicattng that incorporation
of earthworms in the diet increased the effciency
of utilization of other food.
Discussion
The ultimate goal of this sort of research is to
enable aquaculturists to replace some or all of the
costly and ecologically inappropriate fish-meal-based
feeds with cheaper and more appropriate sources
of protein. The studies reported here also suggest
that the rate of growth and effciency of feed uti
lization by fsh receiving a full portion of a fsh
meal-based commercial diet could be increased by
supplementation with fresh feeds. This effect could
be especially signifcant in the North, where getting
a head start on the growing season can make the
difference between a crop of"harvestable" or "sub
harvestable" fsh in the fall.
Our work suggests that both earthworms and
mixed flying insects could be used as substitutes
or supplements for fish meal. Determining the
economic feasibility of the two feeds and compar
ing them to other feeds in that respect is difficult.
As consideration of Trials 1 and 2 reported here and
the earlier work with blue tilapia and earthworms'
shows, the appropriateness of a fresh feed sup
plement cannot be discussed apart from consid
eration of the base diet. Nor will the conclusions
reached necessarily be the same for different spe
cies, size groups, or geographic regions. The most
that can be done here is to discuss the economics
of our operation.
Earthworms are the more complicated of the
two feed sources to consider in economic terms.
Although in our trials they were less valuable than
insects as a supplement or substitute for commer
cial feed, they potentially confer three additional
economic benefits. The first is the effcient disposal
of biodegradable wastes, which leads directly to the
second, provision of a superior potting soil and/or
soil amendment. These benefts may be particu
larly signifcant in urban settings where space is
limiting or in a highly diversifed subsistence ag
riculture situation.
'William 0. McLarney and Jeffrey Parkin. Cage culture. joural
ofthe New Alchemists. 6: 83-88.
R zw
There is also the possibility of managing earth
worms as a cash crop. (Earthworm casts or fecal
matter are also incorporated into some of the best
and most expensive commercial potting mixes.)
Under optimal conditions, earthworm populations
double every three to four months. In the case of
the worm bed described earlier, this translates into
30 lb of worms every three to four months, or at
least go lb of worms per year. With some luck in
retailing, the costs listed in Table 1 could be covered
within the frst year, with worms to spare for the
fsh. From then on, the cost of worms would be
minimal. Making back the costs solely through
feeding the worms to fsh and cutting back on
commercial feed would require a long time.
At the present time, earthworm culture solely
as a fsh feed probably cannot be economically jus
tifed. (Much less can one justify the purchase of
worms, at the current price of $4/lb, wet weight,
compared to commercial fsh feeds at 30 cents/lb.
dry weight.) However, if worms are treated as a
cash crop and/or if one quantifes the value of
biodegradable waste disposal and agricultural use
of the resulting product, worm culture can often
be justifed. As the price of commercial fsh feeds
increases, the economic incentive to grow earth
worms as a fsh feed seems destined to increase,
and eventually earthworm culture for that purpose
alone may be justifable.
The economics of "bug light" fsh feeders are
comparatively straightforward. Amortizing the to
tal materials cost ($140 for a Will-o-the-Wisp plus $36
for two replacement bulbs) over a 1 0-year period
yields an annual cost of$1 7.60. Added to this is a sea
son's worth of electricity, amounting to about $3.40
at current rates, netting a total cost of $2 1 for a year.
Our total catch averaged over the past two seasons
was 1 ,820 g (4. 01 lb) per season. Taking into ac
count that these bugs are 75% water, the corre
sponding dry weight is 455 g ( 1 .0 lb).
On that basis it would be diffcult to justify eco
nomically the use of such a feeder under our con
ditions. However, Cape Cod is not prime "bug
country," and even here we are sure we would do
much better if our lights were placed directly over
an outdoor fsh culture system. More studies of
the economic feasibility of bug-light feeders need
to be made. The earliest such study indicated that
they were economically feasible in rearing bluegills
(Lepomis macrochirus) in cages in southern Illinois.i
However, a later study did not indicate positive
results in open pond culture of fngerling channel
catfsh in Arkansas.9
We attempted to fnd out what an average
nightly catch might be in the Midwest or South,
where hot, sultry summer nights are the rule, but
the only other data we could obtain came from
Vermont. Barry Pierce of Goddard College reports
approximately twice our average nightly catch,
though their bug season is a month shorter. Con
tributing to their catches are the bug light's focus
on the college's compost pile and a one-week
mayfy "bloom" (during which they get well in ex
cess of 100 g, wet weight, per night).
The studies reported here, and earlier feeding
trials at New Alchemy, represent only a tiny frac
tion of the possibilities that could be explored. We
feel that the most important aspect of our work
is to affrm that, at least for the small-scale grower,
there are options to total dependence on fsh-meal
based commercial feeds.
Heidinger, 1 971 .
Newton and Merkowsky, 1
97
6.
Defg and Defg Lts to
Sla-Alge Pond Fish Cute
David Engstrom, John Wole, and Ron Zweig
After several years of careful experiments moni
toring fsh growth in solar-algae ponds, it began
to seem as though we were coming up against a
ceiling. We could grow fsh rapidly for short pe
riods of time, or slowly for long periods of time,
but we could not achieve effcient fsh growth past
a surprisingly consistent limit of food introduced
into the pond. Beyond this point, water-chemistry
conditions made it too diffcult to grow even the
hardy tilapia very effciently or rapidly. To regain
good growth, we would have had to drain the
pond, refll it with fresh water, reintroduce the
fsh.
The frst section of this article delineates this
limit to fsh growth with our standard solar-algae
pond methods. The second section describes a
component we have added recently to some of our
solar-algae ponds that circumvents the old limit.
This addition is a settling tank next to a series of
connected solar-algae ponds. This modifcation
doubles the amount of food we can introduce, and
likewise the amount of fsh growth we can expect.
Part I Growth Efficiencies Under Good
Water Quality for All Experiments to Date
A 8UDDd\y of the feeding \uLC8 uD growth re
lationships from selected solar-algae ponds from
the summers of 1 978 and 1 979 illustrates our best
tilapia fsh growth (Table 1 ). In these experimental
periods, during which water quality remained
good, one gram of dry trout chow pellets led to
approximately one gram of wet weight fsh growth.
Since the trout chow contains 8% nitrogen (by
weight) and wet weight fsh contains 4% nitrogen,
the data indicates that the tilapia growth incor-
Table 1 . FEEDING AND GROWTH DATA FOR SELECTED PONDS WITH GOOD WATER QUALITY.1.2

c
t: -
Q
Q O

o c
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c
H
0

( & &
a ;:
Q-
l Q
- -
c
. " . "
0
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( Q
c - _
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H 1978 3,2 3 2, 210 172
L 1 979 4, 1 5 2,485 194
L 1 978 3,2 6 2,562 200
J 1978 3,2 8 5,147 196
GHIJ 1 979' 4,3c 8 2,520 197
K 1979 4,1 9 2,900 226
Selected averages
198
Rabbit feed (all others are troul chow).
porated roughly half of the nitrogen in the fsh
feed. Nitrogen is an interesting element to track
because it is roughly proportional to protein con
tent in feeds and fsh biomass (though beware:
different proteins contain different proportions of
nitrogen, and different plants and animals contain
different mixes of proteins) and because unassi
milated nitrogen can be transformed into ammonia
and nitrite, both toxic to fsh. In all cases, a nitro
gen input limit was reached, bringing an end to
good water quality and rapid fsh growth. We could
stock a pond with between 20 and 400 fsh, with
an average size of 10-300 g per fsh, at a density
of 1-6 kilograms (kg) total per pond, and with
good water quality could expect the same assimi
lation effciency and growth. Once the limit of the
pond to absorb the unassimilated feed was reached,
growth declined. The trout feed data show the
limit to be about 2 V2 kg of feed containing about
200 grams of nitrogen.
We also experimented with rabbit feed (see Ta
ble 1 , PondJ, 1 978). Rabbit feed contains half as much
nitrogen and protein as trout chow, but costs one
third the price. The data suggest that the nitmgen
input limit is nearly equal to trout chow. However,
one must feed twice as much rabbit feed to put
in the same amount of nitrogen. Since the fsh are
satiated by bulk of food (and not the nitrogen con
tent), one cannot feed rabbit chow at twice the rate
of trout chow. Even though the ultimate nitrogen
input limits are nearly the same, the rate of nitro
gen input must be lower with rabbit feed, and
therefore the growth rates with rabbit feed must
also be slower. Additionally, the ultimate nitrogen
limit may also be lower for rabbit feed than with
trout chow (Pond J had better long-term growth
than two other replicate ponds with only beginning
and end fsh weights). This would be expected,
since nitrogen in the feed is not the only contrib
utor to declining water quality. The oxidation of
carbonaceous materials also stresses the aquacul-
2

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105 75 60 1 ,575 44 1 ,238
71 71 57 2,485 49 1 , 267
61 68 50 2,856 48 1 ,485
92 44 35 2,464 49 2, 514
45 45 35 2.520 53 1 , 1 84
46 43 35 2,709 47 1 ,537
2.435 48
ture system, lowering oxygen and pH levels and
increasing carbon dioxide concentration.
Good water quality did not last long in Pond H
in 1 978 (three weeks) because the feeding rate quickly
exceeded the ability of the ecosystem to absorb the
excess nitrogen. At slower feeding rates, bacterial
transformation and algal assimilation appeared to
maintain acceptable water quality for extended
growth periods. The dynamics are very complex,
with the algae preventing nitrogen from appearing
in soluble form while keeping only a two-to-three
day supply of excess nitrogen in the living algae
biomass at one time. The great majority of nitro
gen accumulates in foating and sedimented dead
algal cells and fsh feces, and the release of nitro
gen back into solution (as toxic ammonia) depends
heavily on bacterial activity.
For all ponds except Pond H (Table I ) , break
down in the ecosystem's ability to absorb unassim
ilated feed occurred when total nitrogen put into
the system had reached about 200 g. At this point fsh
growth in all ponds was about 2. 4 kg regardless of
t
he total growing time.
Certain peculiarities of algal behavior from sum
mer 1 978, data now seem more understandable. All
three closely monitored ponds exhibited strong
declines in algal density from September 9 to 1 1 , co
inciding with a loss of water quality for Pond L
but not for Pond J (Pond H had already experi
enced an infux of toxic nitrite two weeks earlier).
Here Pond L had reached "critical" total nitrogen
while Pond J reached that level two weeks later.
Within the limits of the 1 o%-2o% weekly water re
placement strategy practiced with all of these
ponds, the recycling of nitrogen and suspended
detritus may reach a "critical" level. Accumulated
nitrogen load may combine with algae crashes to
determine the time when water quality declines
sharply. To overcome this over an entire year, one
would have to transfer the fsh to fresh water each
time 200 g of feed nitrogen had entered the pond.
It is important to point out that although fsh
growth almost always drops off after a nitrogen
input of 200 g, a period of recovery sometimes
follows in which fsh growth resumes at a fairly
rapid rate. In 1 978, Pond H demonstrated this
phenomenon. The recovery is probably due to in
creased food availability: teeming bacteria popu
lations foster a bloom of edible high-protein pro
tozoans.
1
Nitrogen assimilation effciencies of
recovered ponds, however, never exceeded about
go%.
With the drain and restart strategy, feeding rate
and growth time can be chosen, keeping in mind
the labor of restarting a pond. One can choose a
fve-to-nine-week growth period and apportion the
2. 5 kg of food (equivalent to 200 g nitrogen) ac
cordingly to achieve the fnal 2.4 kg of fsh. Ob
viously, shorter growth periods are desired for
higher continual fsh production.
These growth statistics are based on experiments
during summer months. It now seems reasonable
to project short-term growth periods over a six
month growing season. The ponds would yield 10
kg of fsh growth over this time if restarted every
six weeks. Since the fsh are capable of growing
faster, other methods of water purifcation to re
move nitrogen and stimulate algal activity seem
appropriate.
Part 3. Methods of Extending the Period of
Good Water Quality
There exist many biologically-sound water puri
fcation methods that can propel solar-algae pond
fsh culture beyond the food input limit described
here. Many of these methods can be combined in
one solar aquaculture system. Six approaches that
we are presently experimenting with are as follows:
1. Enhanced Algal Assimilation ofAmmonia,
Phosphate, and Carbon Dioxide
Rapid algal assimilation of fsh toxins occurs with
strong algae growth. The article in this journal,
"Modeling Algal Growth and Decline in Solar-Al
gae Ponds" argues that increasing the settling rate
of suspended mid water particulates enhances algal
growth and nutrient assimilation.
. Enhanced Detrital Removal by Incorporating
Auxiliar Settling Tank Components
This method removes organic material before it
can decompose. Otherwise, the decomposition pro
cess will release toxic ammonia and carbon dioxide,
and will consume benefcial oxygen. One example
of this approach is described in Part 2 of this article.
'Schroeder, gg. Reference j.
J. Hydroponic Vegetable Culture (Nitrogen
and Phosphorus Removal)
Hydroponic flters attached to solar-algae ponds
can simultaneously purify water and produce veg
etables. The sole source of nitrogen and phospho
rus for the plants is the ammonia, nitrate, and
phosphate dissolved in the water column. This
design directly incorporates the wastes of one pro
cess as a resource for another food-production
unit, and may prove critical for high-yield winter
greenhouse aquaculture.
4 Nitrifing Bacterial Filter (Transforms Toxic
Ammonia and Nitrate to Relatively Benign
Nitrate)
itrifying bacteria within the solar-algae ponds
presently oxidize toxic ammonia into nitrite and
fnally into benign nitrate. However, the bacterial
populations may be severely limited by the amount
of stable surface area upon which to form colonies.
An attached baterial flter with the correct fow
through rate may prove useful in avoiding high
ammonia and nitrite concentrations by speeding
up the nitrifcation process.2
. Increased Exchange ofNutrient-Laden Water
with Fresh Water
This approach "opens" the essentially closed solar
algae ponds researched to date. If the water is
replaced in a slow continuous fow, the shock to
the ecosystem of suddenly siphoning off and re
placing a major fraction of the water column could
be avoided. The removed water should be shunted
to agriculture, since it is a fertile irrigant. Rapid
water replacement should be avoided during win
ter operation unless the cold incoming water is
pumped through a solar collector.
0. Bacterial Denitrifcation (Anaerobic
Transformation ofNitrate into Nitrite and in
Turn into Nitrogen Gas)
Denitrifcation has intentionally not been designed
into solar aquaculture because it represents a direct
loss of a nutrient source that could be further uSCG
in agriculture. However, recent analysis suggests
that in the summer under heavy feeding rates, a
signifcant portion of nitrogen in the solar-algae
ponds appears to be unaccountably lost, and the
most likely removal process is denitrifcation.
Whether denitrifcation accounts for a predomi
nant loss of nitrogen, and whether this should be
'For flter sizing and A owrate determination, see Wheaton, ,gy.Ref
erence 4
F I GURE !
SOLAR ALGAE POND RECI RCULAT I NG R I VER
O/ I/LH
RE10RN |L0w
A l R L l FT
3
4 50AL0AE P0N05
c/L |/LH //OM cOUH
enhanced for better water quality or discouraged
on the basis of lost fertilizer value remains to be
answered.
The next section reports the success of an early
version of the second water purifcation approach
(enhanced detrital removal) discussed above.
Part 3: A Recirculating Outdoor Solar River
with a Settling Pond
Polyculture Feeding Trials in Linked Single
Skin Solar-Algae Ponds in Nonrefective Area
(une I to October 28, 1979)
The solar river comprised fve single-skin solar
algae ponds coupled to a settling tank roughly 5 ft
tall, 18 in. in diameter, holding 66 gallons. (Ref. 5 de
scribes another version of a solar river for trout
culture). Figure 1 illustrates the arrangement. An
airlift tube bubbled water up from the bottom cen
ter of each pond to an overfow at the edge of the
next tank. The tube outlet faced clockwise to gen
erate a mild circular flow in each tank, which
tended to settle out the detritus at the centers of
the ponds. After leaving Pond 1 and before re-en
tering Pond 5, water passed through the 66 gallon
settling tank. The efuent from Pond 1 was piped
to a point near the bottom of the settling tank to
encourage the sedimentation of heavier detritus.

The total volume of the settling tank was drained
once a day fve times each week. This equals \o% of
each pond's volume per week, much less than
draining rates for the previous experiments. We
hoped that this system would favor detrital re
moval while actually changing relatively low vol
umes of the water. This method required much
less labor than siphon drain-down techniques.
We stocked the solar river ponds with high den
sities of tilapia (SaTotheradon aureus) and common
carp (CypTinus ca1pio). The carp were added 31/2
weeks after the tilapia. Ponds 1 and 2 were each
stocked with 6oo tilapia, while Ponds 3, g,and 5 were
each stocked with 6oo tilapia and 300 carp.
After shipping mortality of both species had sub
sided, heavy feeding was initiated with up to 1 50 g of
trout food daily. Within two weeks, this high feed
ing rate led to substantial ammonia concentrations.
Because the water had a high pH, much of this
ammonia exist
e
d in its toxic unionized form. Feed
ing was then reduced until the ammonia disap
peared. Water analysis showed that circulation was
fast enough to create similar water quality condi
tions in all ponds.
Growth relationships for the solar river are sum
marized in Table 2. Final fsh weights showed little
growth for the carp species in all three polyculture
ponds. The poor performance by the carp rein
forces the results of earlier carp monoculture and
Table 2. SUMMARY OF GROWTH DATA FOR OUTDOOR SOLR RIVER EXPERIMENT 4.
Total Food Input: 5,025 g trout food per pond.
Tilapia Growth Period: 6/16-9/28.
Carp Growth Period: 7/09-9/28.
Variable Pond 1 Pond 2 Pond 3 Pond 4 Pond 5
Tilapia:
Initial population 600 600 600 600 600
Initial average weight 2.4 g 2.4 g 2.4 g 2.4 g 2.4 g
Final population 361 416 382 399 366
Final average weight 10. 9 g 1 1 .3 g 1 1 .9 g 1 1 .3 g 10. 9 g
Common Carp:
Initial population 0 0 300 300 300
Initial average weight 3.0 g 3.0 g 3.0 g
Final population 0 0 95 74 1 10
Final average weight 7.0 g 5.0 g 5. 0 g
Total Growth rate (g/day) 49.6 50.7 48.9 45.3 40.3
Total Growth rate (lb/yr) 39.9 40.9 39.4 36.5 32.0
Nitrogen assimilation
Efficiency (%) 39 40 39 36 32
The one-third mortality of tilapia and the two-thirds mortality of carp occurred soon after stocking and was probably due to stress during
shipping.
carp/tilapia polyculture experiments in solar-algae
ponds.3 Nitrogen assimilation effciencies repre
sent primarily nitrogen assimilation by tilapia. The
effciencies of 32% and 40%, lower than the 44.50%
effciencies reported in Table I, are expected on
the basis of an early increase in ammonia concen
tration as well as the poor assimilation of food by
the carp. Growth rates, however, gave a projected
respectable yield of I4.7-I8. 5 kg per pond annually.
The method of draining small amounts of water
from an auxiliary settling tank proved quite suc
cessful when the results were compared with the
growth relationships found with 20% siphoning (Ta
ble I ) . From Table I, a decline in fsh assimilation
effciency because of accrual of excess nitrogen
would have been predicted at about six weeks. In
stead, good water chemistry conditions and rapid
growth continued for 20 weeks. Total food input to
each pond was 5, 025 g trout food, twice the feeding
limit found in the ponds siphoned 20% weekly.
In conclusion, the settling tank system appears
capable of selectively removing substantial quan
tities of detrital material containing nitrogen. Since
the design is relatively easy to construct and its
function is very effective, it holds great promise
as one approach to enhancing solar-algae pond
productivity.
'Reference 1 .
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
We are indebted to Carl Baum, Barbara Chase,
Chris Copeland, AI Doolittle, Laurie Fulton, Mi
chael Greene, and Paul Silverstein for their assis
tance collecting data used in this article.
REFERENCES
1. ANGEVIRE, R., DoOLITTLE, A., ENGSTROM, D., ToDD,
]. , WOLFE, J. , ZwEIG, R. 1979. Assessment of a semi
closed, renewably resource-based aquaculture system.
Progress Report _ to the Offce of Problem Analysis,
Applied Science and Research Applications, National
Science Foundation.
2. --. Progress Report g.
_. GERALD L. SCHROEDER. 1979. Fish farming in man
ure-loaded ponds. Available from the author: Agricul
tural Research Organization, Fish and Aquaculture Re
search Station, Dor, Israel.
q. FREDERICK WHEATON. 1977. Aquacultural Engi
neering. N. Y. : John Wiley and Sons.
_. KENNETH T. MACKAY AND WAYNE VAN TOEVER.
1979. An ecological approach to a water recirculating
system for salmonids: Preliminary experience. Pre
sented to the Biological Engineering Symposium, spon
sored by the American Fisheries Society, October 1979.
Paper available from the authors: The Ark Project, The
Institute of Man and Resources, Rural Route No. g,
Souris, PEl, Canada COA 2BO.
Moelig Ag Grow and
Declie i Sla-Age Ponds
john Wole, Ron Zweig, and David Engstrom
During the summer of 1 978 the algae in the various
solar courtyard ponds fluctuated in a remarkably
similar pattern (see Figure l ; the darkest line in
dicates algal volume on each graph). All the algae
peaked 24 to 30 days after the experiment's inception,
then flocculated (clumped together) and declined
rapidly to very low densities. The growth-and-col
lapse pattern occurred in all ponds, even though
the dominant algal species differed: Sphaerocystis
schroeteri and a large Chiarella species in Pond J;
Scenedesmus quadricauda i n Pond L; Micmctiniwn
pusillum in Pond H. After about 8o days the algae
tended to cycle upward slightly again. Since algal
growth and decomposition strongly affect water
chemistry, it is critical to understand the cause of
algal fluctuations.
Why did the algae crash suddenly? Several hy-
potheses have been offered by biologists in our
group and elsewhe!e. They include the following:
1 . A period of sunny weather was followed by a period
of cloudy weather.
2. The algae grew to a point at which they shaded
each other's incoming light.
_. Shading occurred not onI y from IvcaIgaI reIIs, uI
also from dead algal cells still suspended in the water
column.
4 The algae depleted a nonrenewable micronutrient
(the macronutrients phosphorus and nitrogen were n
soluble form in suffcient concentrations in all cases at
the time of collapse).
_. The algae released a toxin that accumulated as their
numbers increased.
6. The algae were attacked by predatory bacteria with
an exponentially growing population.
ALGAL SUCCESSION IN POND J
-BIOVOLUME
(RABBIT CHOW. 3. FEEDING RATE)
-TOTAL CELLS
32
--- ANKISTROOESMUS BRAUNI
........ ANKISTROOESMUS FALCATUS
----- LARGE (5p) CHLORELLA SP
28 ----- SMALL (2.5p) CHLORELLA SP
--- PALMELLOCOCCUS SP
-- SCENEOESMUS OUADRICAUOA
%
<
Z
-SPHAEROCYSTIS SCHROETER!
1Z
<
32

0
7131 an 8/21 5 9/ 9/11 9/18 9125 "" 1019 10123 IOIJ 11/6
1978
ALGAL SUCCESSION IN POND
34
-BIOVOLUME
(TROUT CHOW. 3% FEEDING RATE)
-TOTAL CELLS
3
--- ANKISTROOESMUS BRAUNI
........ ANKISTROOESMUS FALCATUS

``` MICRACTINIUM PUSILLUM
------ SMALL (2.5p) CHLORELLA SP
?4
-- SCENEOESMUS OUAORICAUOA
-SPHAEROCYSTIS SCHROETER!

^
Z

16

3
.
lZ
<

0
7/31 811 8114 8121 8128 ^ 9/1! 9/18 9/25 1012 1019 IOIJO H/6
1978
ALGAL SUCCESSION IN POND H
34
-BIOVOLUME (TROUT CHOW, 6 ". FEEDING RATE)
-TOTAL CELLS
32 --- ANKISTRODESMUS BRAUNI
........ ANKISTRODESMUS FALCATUS
28
....... GOLENKINIA RADIATA
...... ... MICRACTINIUM PUSILLUM
:
` SMALL (2.5p) CHLORELLA S

4
-- RADIOCOCCUS
--SCENEOESMUS OUADRICAUOA
--SPHAEROCYSTIS SCHROETER! 40
^
32

"
<

0
7131 817 8/H 8121 5 91 9/11 9/18 9/25 1012 ""9 1 1om IOIJO 11/6
1!8
TOTAL DAILY HORIZONTAL SOLAR RADIATION
(CAL/CM
2
-0AY)

-

7
9
*

1978
Figure 1 . Modeling algal growh.
8g
Most biologists would suspect that the last three
hypotheses would be species-specific. We reject all
three here because each pond displayed a different
dominant species. An experiment has been devised
to test Hypotheses
4
,
5
, and 6 (the experiment is
scheduled to be carried out in the spring or sum
mer of 1 981 ) .
The frst three hypotheses all involve sunlight
starvation. To compare these three hyr>otheses we
expressed each hypothesis mathematically, and in
corporated it into a computer simulation of solar
algae pond growth dynamics. To express the frst
hypothesis correctly, the solar radiation actually
penetrating the walls and tops of the ponds, rather
than the daily totals of horizontal solar radiation
that we had recorded, had to be determined. A
computer model, SOLAR6,1 was devised to convert
horizontal radiation measurements into the amounts
of sunlight entering the solar-algae ponds.
Using SOLAR6, we put in horizontal solar mea-
' Wolfe, Engstrom, and Zweig, i .(Reference s. )Thisarticledescribes
the principles and assumptions on which SOLAR6 is based.
& ~
.
E -
-.. =
o Q
; )
.
-

I
. .
.
. .

I
I t

' I

..
' I
.
surements in calories per square centimeter per
day (cal/cm2/day) and got back the calculated solar
energy entering the ponds (in callday).
These new data were the foundation of our frst
algal growth model. To express Hypothesis 1 math
ematically, we can say the algae grew or declined
according to Equation 1 .
dA!dt A(S - E)IT
where
A algal density
S solar energy reaching the water column
E the level of sunlight at which
the algae neither grow nor decline
T a constant (units: energy X time)
( 1 )
Equation 1 states that external light levels entirely
control algal growth. A simple computer program,
written in the system dynamics language DY
NAMO, was constructed around the preceding
equation and solar input data generated by SO-
' I
I
I
I
.
' I
I t
.. ..
j' " .
1
Sun I |g!
I
I
I
' I
I
I
I
. ..
I
. .. .

..

I
.
.
I ' I
' I I
%L CCXLL, LXIC
90
Figure 2. A run of the simple algae growth model based on solar energy fluctuations,
with no shading factors. (Hypothesis no. 1 )
LAR6. (For more information on system dynamics
and DYNAMO, see the Bibliography.)
A run of the model is shown in Figure 2 . The
horizontal axis of the graph is time (in days). On
the vertical axes, A represents algae volume and
has the units ten million cubic microns per milli
liter, and * stands for sunlight (measured in million
calories per day). Unlike the algae curve, the points
of sunlight on the plot remain unconnected be
cause the time scale only shows a "snapshot" of
light intensity every third day. Do not worry,
though; the computer is using a complete daily
sunlight data series and steps through time in
tenth-of-a-day increments.
It is clear from inspecting Figure 2 that this model
in no way approximates the early steep growth and
decline of algae documented in Figure 1 . No change
in any of the model's parameters (excluding sun
light) created an output signifcantly closer to the
real data than Figure 2. A more sophisticated model
is needed.
Hypothesis 2 , the self-shading of the algae, adds
a limiting factor to the model's structure. Ex-
-
E u
i
o _
"
. 0
: u
C t
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!i l
I

:
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I )
I
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I

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!
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. . .
.
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. . . -
. . .

. - .
' I .

I

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. . . .
I

pressed mathematically, Hypothesis 2 might be
written
where (in addition to terms defned for Equation
1 )
b maximum algal growth rate (units: per day)
d, death rate of the algae (units: per day)
k, sunlight constant (units: algae volume/solar
energy)
When solar inputs are very great, b/Sk
1
ap
proaches zero and b - bA/sK1 approaches b, the
maximum growth rate. When the sunlight factor
Sk, is smallest it equals A, and the growth term
b b!Sk, equals zero and falls out, leaving only
the death rate.
Figure 3 depicts the output using Equation 2 to
express Hypothesis 2. As shown, the model gen
erates an overall pattern of sigmoidal growth to.
a maximum limit. Random fuctuations in sunlight
causes the output to oscillate around the general
. .

' I

' I
. .
I t
' I
w

,
I
__
-Sunl i ght
. . ' I
I
z
.
. I
I
I

I
J
I
' I
' I ' .
i
.
*
P* *
. . .
-

. -
' I

' I
I

I
I
:
mL ~LL. L~I
Figure 3. A run of the algae growth misel with solar fluctuations and self-shading factors.
(Hypothesis no. 2)
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 9I
growth-to-a-plateau curve. This too, is not the gen
eral behavior displayed by the algal populations
in the summer of 1 978.
A DYNAMO fow diagram of the resulting model
is shown in Figure q. Figure 5 shows a run of the
model.
A third factor, shading from dead algal cells
(Hypothesis 3) was then added to the model. As any
microscopic examination of the pond water after
the frst month of an experiment will show, mid
water detritus (largely dead algae) is a common
element in the ponds-often more prevalent than
the algae themselves. Mathematically, their infu-
As illustrated in Figure
5
, this model produces
a growth and collapse curve quite similar to the
real summer, 1
97
8, data for Ponds J, L and H. In
the mathematical simulation the algae do peak at
about the twentieth day rather than the twenty
ffth to thirtieth day as in the real data. However,
unique start-up conditions, if included in the model,
would delay the peak for a more precise ft. These
start-up conditions are: I ) the heavy successful
predation of the algae when the tilapia are frst
introduced, before inedible algae species are se
lected for, and 2) moderate nutrient limitations,
before feed inputs cycle through the fsh and are
transformed by the bacteria to generate the nu
trients phosphate, ammonia and nitrate.
ence can be expressed as
-
dA!dt A[b -b(A OK/Sk
1
] - Ad1 (ga)
dO/dt Ad1 -Od2 (gb)
where (in addition to terms defned for Equations
1 and 2) :
L dead midwater organics How can the algal crash, with its eventual neg
ative impact on water quality, be avoided? The
model can easily assess one approach: increasing
the settling rate of the mid water particulates. Min-
k2 shading impact of organics relative to algae
d2 disappearance rate (settling and
9
2
decomposition) for midwater organics
BAG
BASI C (OR SPECI FI C)
ALGAE GROWTH
RATE

I
I
:
^^
Z
7
-
ALG
L
BASI C ALGAE
DEATH RATE

^
^
ORG
ALGAE , ORGAN I CS
BOD
BASI C ORGANI C
DECOMPOSI TI ON b
SETTLI NG RATE

'-
',
1 (SUSPENDED
(ABSOLUTE) ', 1 ALGAE DEATH / M |DWATER ORGANI C
ALGAE GROWTH '
I
RATE 1 DETRI TUS) DECOMPOSI TI ON
RATE
' , , '
, 6
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1
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LEGEND:
SYMBOLS
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CELL
v
NAME CARD CHARACTER
LEVEL L
ABSOLUTE RATE R
CONSTANT c
AUXI LLARY (VARI ABLE) A
EXOGENOUS, OR A
DRI VI NG AUXI LLARY
SOURCE OR SI NK OF NO I MMEDI ATE I NTEREST
SUBSCRI PT
.K
.KL , .JK
. K
.K
Figure 4. Dynamo flow diagram of algae growth model.
imiZmg water turbulence from aeration and in
stalling separate settling ponds can both increase
the settling rate. Figure 6 shows a run of the model
where the settling rate is raised from 3% to 10%
of the organics per day. The algae peak slightly
higher and do not decline nearly as far-their fnal
equilibrium level exceeds the baseline run of Fig
ure 6 by roughly three times.
The higher resulting standing crop of algae does
not necessarily mean better water quality, however.
Good water quality derives from algal growth
rates-not algal density directly. Algal growth re
moves toxic ammonia and carbon dioxide from the
water and releases beneficial oxygen. To tell whether
the algal growth rate, as well as the algal standing
crop, had increased with faster particulate settling
rates, the algal growth and death rates were plot
ted. The plots (not shown) proved that faster set
tling rates increased both growth and death rates.
The increased algal growth rate would have an
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immediate benefcial impact on water quality. The
increased death rate would eventually lead to de
composition and a loss of the gains made in water
quality-unless the dead cells were removed in
time.
This insight into the beneft of increasing the
settling rate of particles suspended in the water
column has inspired several new experimental de
signs. The new designs vary from adjacent settling
or fltering units through which pond water cycles,
to quiet zones within the pond created by vertical
barriers across the bottom. Management solutions
may include turning off water-churning aeration
consistently during the day, or by relocating the
air bubblers permanently from the pond bottom
to halfway up the side of the pond, creating an
undisturbed zone underneath. These methods
should foster stronger, stabler algal growth, hence
healthier water chemistry conditions and ulti
mately faster fsh growth over longer periods.
s
Ill ,
I I 6 I 6 6 6 6

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4 6 6 6 4 4 6 9
v a I 6 I
I
t
mL L~LL. L~I
Figure 5. A run of the algae growth model with solar fluctuations, self-shading and mid
water pariculate shading factors. (Hypothesis no. 3)
93
REFERENCES
1 . MICHAEL R. GooDMAN. 1974 Study Notes in System
Dynamics. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Wright-Allen Press,
388 pp.
2. DENNIS L. MEADOWS, w. w. BEHRENS, D. H. MEAD
Ow5, R. F. NAILL, J. RANDERS AND E.K. O. ZAHN. 1974
Dynamics of Growth in a Finite Wodcl. Cambridge, Mas
sachusetts: Wright-Allen Press, 637 pp.
3 ALEXANDER L. PuGH, III. 1977. DYNAMO User's
Manual, sth ed. Cambridge, Massachusetts: MIT Press,
I 3 1 pp.
q
WILLIAM A. SHAFFER. 1978. Mini-DYNAMO User's

Guide. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Pugh-Roberts Asso
ciates, 67 pp.
_. jOHN WOLFE, DAVID ENGSTROM, AND RoN ZWEIG.
1980. Sunlight patterns without, chemistry patters
within: the view from a solar-algae pond. The journal
of The New Alchemit 6: Brattleboro: Stephen Greene
Press.

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.
4 9
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Figure 6. A run of the algae growth model based on hypothesis no. 3, with an increased
midwater organics settling rate.
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I
This section on bioshelters is divided into two dis
tinct parts, the one scientific and the other more
or less domestic. The first, "Logging the Course of
the Ark," reflects the range of our investigatory re
search in the Cape Cod Ark, which, at the age of
five, has earned a venerable standing among solar
greenhouses. Horticulture, pest control, modeling,
toxic materials, and designing future bioshelters are
discussed in the light of our current knowledge.
The second part, if less scholarly, is more broadly
experiential. It is written by an assortment of people
who having been exposed to the Ark have incor
porated a bioshelter in some form or another into
their lives. Any readers contemplating doing so
themselves will be interested in the variety of ap
proaches and costs represented.
N.J.T.
LOGGING the CO URSE
ofthe ARK
Indoor Gardening
Colleen Armstrong
One of the goals underlying the design of the Ark
was to point the way toward a solar-based, year
round, employment-creating agriculture for
northern climates. Our goal was to devise a food
raising ecosystem that would require one-ffth to
one-tenth the capital of an orthodox farm but use
far less space. Our original target was for a bio
shelter-based microfarm costing $so,ooo, land in
cluded. The experimental prototype described on
the following pages cost less.
Our strategy was to avoid mimicking and scaling
down single-crop commercial farms. We adopted
rather an ecological perspective, integrating into
the design a blend of soft technologies, mixed
crops (including greens, vegetables, fowers, fsh,
nd other aquatic fo
.
ods), and the mass propaga
uon of trees. The m1crofarm was encapsulated in
a solar building in which internal climate and the
control of disease and pests were carried out by
ecological, structural, and data-processing subcom
ponents. This contained ecosystem with its inter
related and interdependent components of plants,
earth, insects, fsh, and people is a bioshelter, which
we called the Cape Cod Ark.
Sterile soils and the use of toxic chemicals for
intensive management are common elements of
orthodox greenhouse food culture. We opted for
deep, biologically diverse soils that we "seeded"
from felds, meadow, and forest environments in
alluvial, limestone, and glacial areas in southern
New England. The process has become a continu
ing one. To the soils we added compost, seaweeds
for trace elements and structure, and composted
leaf litter. We wanted to create soils with the fol
lowing characteristics:
1 . High fertility.
2. High organic matter and water-holding ability.
3 Multiple nutrient-exchange pathways and storage
capabilities.
4 Optimizes carbon dioxide production through dense
bacterial activities.
5
.
Provides shelter for diverse animal population, in
cludmg earthworms and pest predators.
Hle Ma"ay
For agricultural purposes the most relevant indi
cator of soil fertility is the amount of produce a
plant yields. In the Ark there are two important
facts that should be considered when discussing
soil fertility. First, the soil is the basic, essential
source of plant nutrients; second, unlike the sit
uation when seasonal cropping is practiced, the
soil's nutrients are tapped 1 2 months of the year.
We use crop rotation to balance nutrient demand.
Two laboratories (Woods End Laboratory in Tem
ple, Maine, and University of Massachusetts Sub
urban Experimental Station in W<ltham, Massa
chusetts) have assisted us in evaluating our soil
conditions by auditing Ark soil samples. Table 1
summarizes the basic composition and develop
ment of the Ark's soil over a two year period. A
steady accumulation of organic matter and im
proved carbon: nitrogen ratio is attributed to cyclic
introduction of properly com posted material. Min
eral levels fuctuate upon various demands of spe
cifc crops. Such reports are vital when selected
crops are heavy feeders and possible nutrient de
fciencies may arise.
Soil fertility is maintained through a process of
annual innoculation. In September, after the sum
mer season has come to a close, each bed is turned
with well-decomposed organic matter. This rein-
Table 1 . SUMMARY OF ORGANIC MADER AND MI NERAL CONTENT OF CAPE COD BIOSHELTER'S SOIL, 1977-1979.
Date
1 1 177 1 1178 6179
Planned use Leaf vegetables Leaf vegetables Tomatoes
Texture Sandy loam Sandy loam Sandy loam
Organic matter 5.5% 8. 1% 8.7%
Humus 3.8% 4. 9% 5.7%
CEC (Megl100 g) 18.8 20.7 17.6
Soil pH 7.0 6.4 7.0
C:N balance Good Very good Excelent
Available Nutrients 1 1 177 1 1 178 6179
Nutrient Anions (1b/A),
Nitrogen (NO,) annual releases Desired level 100 100 200
Level found 90-139 M 130-170 M 240 M
P 205 reserve phosphorus Desired level 350 250 130
Level found 700 H 760 MH 660 MH
Exchangeable Cations (1biA)
Calcium Desired level 4,900 5,800 4,900
Level found 6,200 6,100 5,300
Saturation 82% H 73% M 76% MH
Magnesium Desired level 670 600 570
Level found 580 1 ,000 830
Saturation 13" M 20% H 20% MH
Potassium Desired level 370 320 280
Level found 570 590 590
Saturation 4" M 4" MH 4% M
Private circulation of Woods End Laboratory, RFD Box 65, Temp'e, Maine.
Cation exchange capacity: a measure of the soil's capacity for holding available cations in reserve. Megl1 00 g means milli-equivalent weights
per 100 grams of soil; a milli-equivalent weight is the weight of a cation which exchanges with one equivalent weight or one gram of hydrogen.
'1 biA = pounds per Acre
H = High
M = Medium
MH = Medium-High
g8 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALC
H
EMISTS NO. 7
states many microorganisms that break down or
ganic matter with steady nutrient and mineral re
lease. In addition, an irrigation program using the
warm fsh-pond water continually provides soluble
nitrate-nitrogen, ammonium-nitrogen, and phos
phate compounds.
Winter Crop Varieties
Over the past four winter seasons, from November
through April, we have been evaluating many veg
etable and fower varieties for their performance
in the Ark. The Ark shares a number of charac
teristics with other passive solar greenhouses, but
it it a bioshelter-a solar greenhouse with a dif
ference. There are several qualities that distinguish
it from other greenhouse environments. The pri
mary difference lies in the concept of the Ark as
an enclosed ecosystem, rich in diverse organisms.
The practices of agriculture, aquaculture, and soil
and insect ecology are all interdependent. When
regulating the climate of the Ark, we must consider
the living components. Fish can be more sensitive
to thermal change than plants, and seasonal plants
may require specifc soil and air temperatures. The
Ark may not provide optimal growing conditions
for certain vegetable and fowers. Consequently,
varieties must be chosen with these factors in mind.
In the Ark the average soil temperature at a 2
inch depth during the coldest months is as follows:
November, 60 F; December, 595 F; January,
55 F; February, 59 F; March, 62 F. Average soil
temperatures for two periods of November through
April in 1 977, 1 978 and 1 979 were 59o F at a depth
of 2 inches, 54. 1
o
F at 6 inches, and 53. 2 F at 1 2
inches.
Although the soil beds provide more than suf
fcient temperatures for bountiful winter vegetable
production, they are also considered a portion of
the total thermal mass. The air temperatures fuc
tuate. Clear, sunny days will raise the daytime air
temperature to 77 F, whereas on cloudy days it
tends to drop to 55-60 F. With an average min
imum air temperature of 49. 2 F and an average
maximum air temperature of 70.8 F, the Ark's
climate is similar to that of spring in a temperate
zone. At this time, many foliage and root crops
can be cultivated. The Ark provides an average of
25 portions of salad greens per day during the
winter season. What better time to have access to
fresh vegetables, rich in good nutrition?
Before we select which vegetables to grow, we
give careful thought to each garden bed. These
are a few of the questions we ask to make the most
reasonable selections.
What is the size of the garden bed?
In the Ark, all of the beds are 5 feet or less in
width and can be planted intensively. However,
each bed borders a pathway and in our case must
be able to take the abuse of reckless visitors and
gardeners. Many dwarf fowering plants such as
marigolds, alyssum, and lobelia make excellent
borders, and we make use of them as such. A few
hardy plants like beets, celery, parsley, and thyme
can be employed as fences. Smaller areas should
be planted with compact foliage crops that can be
harvested by leaf. Loose-leaflettuce, endive, celery,
and chard can be planted close to one another and
picked continuously for weeks. Larger beds offer
freedom for all kinds of intercropping with broc
coli, caulifower, chard, kale, head lettuce, and
herbs.
What is the quality of light striking the
garden bed?
This is the most important question. Light can
range from full through partly shaded, lightly
shaded to deeply shaded. Full light exists when
direct sunlight is present throughout the day. Mov
ing down the scale, a partly shaded area has direct
light for only a portion of the day. Light shade
prevails when no direct sunlight reaches the bed,
but a high light intensity is maintained. Deep shade
is an extreme case in which there is low light in
tensity at all times.
Throughout the winter season, most vegetables
require full light. Real sunworshippers are celery,
head lettuce, leeks, broccoli, caulifower, beets, dill,
and thyme. Vegetables that will produce in partly
or lightly shaded areas are endive, chard, parsley,
kale, and Chinese greens. A few exceptional foliage
crops continue to produce throught he dead of
winter. They are endive, parsely, New Zealand
spinach, beet greens, and both Swiss and red
chard.
What is the condition of the soil?
A steady program to build and maintain soil fer
tility is an inherent part of our gardening practice.
However, it's important to recognize that some
crops are heavy feeders, and crop rotation should
be employed.
Some vegetables may need additional compost
dressing. If light conditions are stressing, a bal
anced rich soil and good air circulation will assist
the plant to retain strength and will minimize pest
problems.
Table 2. SUITABLE WINTER VEGETABLE VARIETIES FOR BIOSHELTERS IN NEW ENGLAND.
Vegetable Name of Variety
Beet Early Wonder Tall Top
Green Top Bunching
Broccoli Cleopatra
Ce Cicco
Celery Utah 52-?0R Improved
Chard, red Burpee's Rhubarb"
Chard, Swiss Fordhook Giant
Cauliflower Opaal"
Cabbage Matsusitima
Chinese Chinese Pac Choi
Endive Full Heart Batavian
Green Curled
Kale Harvester LD
Green Curled Scotch
Lettuce, Bibb type Ravel RZ"
Rossini"
Ostinata
Lettuce, head Reskia RZ"
Zwaareese"
Lettuce, loose-leaf Grand Rapids Tip-burn
Resistant
Parsley Champion Moss Curled
Plain Dark Green Italian
Spinach New Zealand (perennial)
Malabar
What vegetables should be given priority?
Criteria for choosing vegetables are that they
please the intended consumer and are nutritionally
complementary. A short story might be pertinent.
A few years ago, we grew lots of New Zealand
spinach. It was fabulous for re-enforcing the rock
walls and was a nonstop producer. Unfortunately,
only the most reckless of greens afcionados would
chew it, sometimes with reluctance. Rumors de
veloped that most of it was going to chickens ad
goats. Graffiti such as "Yuck" began to appear m
the tally book. It seems sturdiness and nutritional
value cannot stand alone. At least not with us. '
We have experimented with varieties of lettuce,
endive, celery, chard, beet, brassicas, spinach, and
parsley to ascertain which vegetable

are
.
m
.
ost
adapted to the thermal and ig?t regtmes mstde
the Ark. While a few crop vanettes demand a spe
cifc season, most of the foliage crops can be cul
tivated throughout this cool period. See Table 2.
Lettuce varieties from Holland have proved su
perior to domestic varieties. It is possible that
Dutch greenhouse crop-breedi

coditi
?
ns may
more closely approximate condtttons m b10shelter
'For readers uninitiated to New Zealand spinach, ruminating briefy
on a rusty nail will provide a fair analogue of the taste, if not the
texture, of sampling the real thing. EJ
Transplant/ Fall!
Seed Co. Seed Spring
Johnny's Transplant F
Stokes Transplant F
Stokes Transplant F
Johnny's Transplant S
Johnny's Transplant F & S
Burpee Transplant F & S
Stokes Transplant F & S
Rijk Zwaan Transplant F
Stokes Transplant F
Rijk Zwaan Transplant F & S
F & S
Rijk Zwaan Transplant S
Stokes Transplant S
Stokes Seed F
Burpee Seed Transplant S
environments in northeastern United States. We
set the following criteria for our varietal tests. Each
variety of lettuce was rated for number of days
until maturity, average ounces per plant, ounces
per square foot, color, aphid resistance, disease
and heat resistance, tip-burn and taste (see Table
3).
Undoubtedly, Ravel R2, a bibb lettuce with out
standing qualities, is our favorite, most productive
variety in the Ark. Grand Rapids Tip-Burn Tol
erant is the preferred loose-leaf lettuce however;
most of the bibb lettuces give higher yields per
square foot.
. . .
Our vetetable production can be dlVlded mto
two categories: overall production fro

the 51 7
square foot (ft2) growing area, and opttmal pro
duction from testing areas (Tables 3 and 4). Over
a three-year period, we have brought about several
changes in the growing area. In fall 1 978

we
placed three solar-algae ponds in areas of
.
low hght,
providing additional heat storage, accesstble pond
water, and warmer temperatures in the soil sur
rounding the ponds. At the same time, we desig
nated a 35 ft2 plot as a permanent area for tropical
plants; this serves as an animal and insect sanctuary.
Figure 1 shows the six-month winter vegetable
production from the 5 1 7 ft2 area over a three-y
.
ear
period. The vegetables included lettuce, endtve,
tomatoes, celery, brassicas, chards, beets, and herbs.
Valuable Crops
Celer
"
After a successful pretrial season, we cultivated

celery as the main crop in the fall of 1 979. Celery
has a long maturing process from seed to harvest.
Seed germination is approximately 2 1 days, an .
C
additional 45 days is required for developing as
\
a transplant, and it is 76 more days until harvest.
The advantages of growing celery in bioshelters
include the long developing process, and the fact
Q
that it is a compact, verticle-axis crop. The crop
c u
~ c

occupies bedding space for 72-76 days, only about O
|
half of the total maturation time. Celery has the
0
added advantage of being a relatively high priced,
popular vegetable in American markets.
m
There few characteristics of celery that
c
are a - C
should be taken into consideration, however. It is
-;
"
one of the more diffcult crops to grow. It is a rich
m
C
feeder of nitrogen and requires an abundance of
moisture from the soil. Blanching (preventing the
development of color) and binding are required

for a marketable crop. Offsetting such demands,
5 celery can be spaced at one plant per square foot
a -
and weigh 1 -2 pounds per plant. As of this writing
Y m
0
it brings a retail price of 89 cents per bunch. Celery
is a good storage vegetable and has a fexible har-
vest period. The first-year results have been en- m
c
couraging, and crop evaluation will continue both
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i in early spring and fall.
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Tomatoes
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During seasons that tomatoes are imported, retail
c

prices on Cape Cod approach and often exceed
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$1 per pound. A review of the tomato culture lit-
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t
erature indicates that greenhouse tomatoes have C
two seasons: spring and fall. Predictably, the spring

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season-with longer photoperiod and higher lu-
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minosity-is more proftable. With the rising cost
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Averoge Winter Vegetable Production i
n
Cape Cod
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Figure 1 . : "0 ::

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Bio-shelter over Six-Month Period.
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THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. ]
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Table 4. VARIETAL TEST SHEET FOR TOMATOES IN CAPE COD BIOSHELTER.
Average Weight New England
Name of Days Until Maturity per Fruit Yield Equivalent fbi Productn Insect Disease
Variety (from Transplant) (oz) (lblf') 1,00 h (lblfl')
Resistance
SPRING:
Small Fry
(US) 68 0.75 1 .2 1 , 200 Medium-high Medium
Lito
(Holland) 78 2.5 4.0 4,000 2.5 Medium Medium-high
(double-pruned}
Tropic
(US) 82 2. 8 1 .8
Type 1 27
1 , 800 2. 5 Medium-high High
(Holland) 72 2.3 3.6 3,600 2.5 Medium Medium-high
(double-pruned}
FALL:
Lito
(Hol|and) 78 2.5 1. 2 1,200 Medium Medium-high
Tiny Tim
(Uo) 45 0.4 0.6 600 Low Medium
Diseases include verticillum wilt, fusarium wilt, leaf blight and anthracnose.
of fuel, many conventional tomato growers in New
England have decreased production.
An evaluation of the frst year of summer tomato
production in the Ark showed an average of 2 lb/
ft2 for the 1 978 season. This yield is probably low
as we know part of the crop was snitched by
visitors.
The following spring we evolved a more so
phisticated program incorporating a valuable
pruning technique. Double-pruning as it is called
is a European method that incorporates a selected
axial sucker or vegetative outgrowth into a second
indeterminant stem. This pruning technique can
double fruit yields while not affecting fruit size.
It is an excellent method for maximum space uti
lization. We began our preliminary trials with
Dutch seeds. To date, the favorite variety has been
Lito from the Rijk Zwaan Co. in Holland. This
variety is slightly smaller than the average garden
tomato although it tastes as sweet. Mid-March
planting gave us fruit by early June and a pro
duction fgure in July of an average of 55 lb/plant!
Fruit production lasted 14 weeks with a fnal fgure
of 1 3 lb/plant, or 4 lb/ft2, twice the yield of the
frst year. I f the tomato area in the Ark were
equivalent to 1 ,ooo ft2, Lito could produce 4,ooo
lb of fruit in the spring season.
Fall tomato production also has merit in bio
shelters. Again, timing is most important. Seeding
begins on the frst of June. Healthy plants are set
in beds by the first week in August and the frst
tomatoes begin to ripen in mid-October. Fall fruit
production is considerably less than spring pro
duction, measuring 1 . 2 lb/ft2 compared to 4 lb/ft2
However, top prices are paid at this time of year
and further on into December. I n the future, many
additional factors such as light-refection material,
thermal curtains, and better glazing may contrib
ute to boosting fall tomato production.
The results of our tests of several tomatoes are
shown in Table 4
Seedling Production
Besides the deep-dug, intensive beds in the Ark,
there is approximately 75 ft2 of bench space that
we alot to young seedlings. The area is regarded
as a nursery. A germination box provides the en
vironment for optimal seed sprouting. Young plants
are transplanted into containers that hold 3-1 0 of
a particular variety. Although small, the bench
space is essential to us and is most productive in
late winter and in spring. I n 1979 we produced
over 6,ooo transplants in the Ark for New Al
chemy's gardens and experimental plots. A seed
ling schedule indicates what vegetable and fower
seedlings to grow at the proper time of year. A
cycle envolves; as mature transplants are moved
to the cold frame, a second set of younger seedlings
assumes their space. After a few weeks, the second
set is taken out to be hardened off, and a third
moves into the same space. Many growers fnd
spring the most proftable season. On Cape Cod,
three tomato plants can retail at $ 1 . With adequate
timing, spring transplant profts could exceed those
of any other time of year.
Planting Regimes
Figure 2 displays three alternate vegetable-plant
ing schedules. All can be made proftable ventures.
Schedule A was the regime for the 1979/1 g8o sea
son in the Ark. Table 5 lists the retail revenue per
square foot using the three schedules. Schedule A
I02 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Table 5. REVENUE FROM ALTERNATE ANNUAL PLANTING
REGIMES.
SCHEDULE A:
Celery
Tomato
Lettuce
TOTAL
SCHEDULE B:
Retail Price
89/bunch
avg. 69/lb
69/head
Celery 89/bunch
Tomato 99/lb
Lettuce 69/head
Cauliflower $1. 89/head
TOTAL . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
SCHEDULE C:
Lettuce
Tomato
Cauliflower
TOTAL
Two reasons
Off-season price
69/head
avg. 69/lb
$1. 89/head
Produce l' Revenue
(!/'lyr)
bunch $0.89
4 lb
2.76
(two) 1 .9 head'
. . . $6.27
1 bunch $0.89
1 .Z lb 1 . 18
1 .9 head 1.31
0. 4 head 0./6
. . .
(two) 1.9 head' $2.62
4 lb 2.76
0.4 head 0. 76

offers the highest income at $6. 27/per square foot
per year; another plan may be selected to facilitate
crop rotation and balance the nutrient require
ments drawn from the soil. Comparing the three
schedules, fexibility in crop selection is often nar
rowed by the premium price available at a partic
ular season. We remind readers that with prices
soaring, these prices shortly may be regarded as
too conservative!
Figure Z. Alternate Annual Planting Regimes.
January February March April Moy June
L t 1 1 LLt
1 \P1 \
1\NM1\
Lt L t
TL L L\t
L t 1 1 LL!
1\T1\
Biological Islands
Because crops are planted, removed, and altered
from season to season, most agricultural environ
ments are intrinsically unstable. Such instability can
lead to pest outbreaks, since biological regulatory
mechanisms are not usually well established. An
example is the introduction of ladybird beetles
(Hippodamia convergens) to control aphids. Once the
crop is harvested, the number of aphids, which
provide nourishment for the predator, is reduced.
The ladybird beetle population will consequently
drop or become nonexistent. In the Ark we in
creased ecological diversity and biological stability
by creating aquatic and terrestrial microcontrol
"islands" throughout the interior. These "islands"
include such stable perennial plants as ginger,
fowers, herbs, and grasses like bamboo that are
not cropped. These in turn provide continuing
habitats for pollinators, predators, and parasites
of insect pests. The parasites include parasitic
wasps, larvae of fies, predatory mites, spiders,
frogs, and lizards. The entire island network, lo
cated in slightly suboptimal growing areas, also
creates a pleasant surrounding.
July August September October November December
Lt L t K
L t 1 1 LLL
L t 1 LLt "
Lt L L
1\NP1L
L 1 M'L "
Lt L C K
L t 1 LLt
1\N\
L t 1
LTLL \L
oeVar@a)
Controlling the Whitefy
Colleen Armstrong
At the time of my last chronicling of the green
house whitefy, Trialeurodes vaporariorum (West
wood), I fel t secure that this harmful herbivore's
existence would be relatively insignificant to the
Ark's insect community .
1
Previous success stories
of the use of Encarsia formosa (Gahan) in control
ling greenhouse whitefy encouraged me to con
tinue my investigation and I planned to devote
more time to observing and monitoring interac
tions between host and parasite. Winter 1 9781Ig79
was mild and cloudy, and the Ark was cool enough
lC l:m:t the number C Hcl:Vc whiteflies. The par
asitic wasp E. formosa was undoubtedly present,
though even quieter than its host. With a fall crop
of tomatoes that lasted until mid-February, both
insects were assured of one of their favorite food
sources. The whitefly probed the tomato tissue,
preferring apical leaves, while the Encarsia searched
for immature whitefly in which to deposit their
'Armstrong, tg8o. Reference 12.
eggs. It was a tranquil time of year for this par
ticular host-parasite relationship.
When the tomatoes became diseased with a fun
gal growth, Cladospmium sp., we uprooted and
composted the 1 2 ft plants. Realizing that the ma
jority of the Ark's E. fonnosa population lived on
the tomatoes, we scavenged each plant for black
coated, parasitized whitefy scales (sessile larval
stages) and distributed leaves throughout the
bioshelter. We pinned many leaves to the under
side of young tomato plants above the rock storage
bed. Little did I Cv vt were 3DODl lC tlt: H
tumultuous season of whitefly.
You might say I've progressed to the trial-and
error stage of science, but my mistakes have taught
me a great deal about insect control in bioshelter
environments. The Ark is far from the conven
tional laboratory. Such variables as percise tem
perature and exact insect members are not con
trolled. Although we are practicing biological control
in a contained environment, it can follow patterns
of nature so closely that you often forget the feel
ing of walls.
Successful insect control can be a complicated
process. To quote the Soune Book ofIntegrated Pest
Management, "A managed resource ecosystem is a
component of the functioning ecosystem . . . ac
tions are taken to restore, preserve or augment
checks and balances in the system."2 Over the
growing season under discussion, various factors
such as temperature, timing, and ratios of host to
parasite contributed to the lack of stability in the
Ark's gardens.
The average daily winter temperature in the Ark
for the three coldest months, December, January,
and February, was approximately 2 1 C (70 F). Its
climate can be described as cool and moist. When
the old tomato leaves were removed from the dis
eased mother plant and pinned to new plants,
many of the leaves disintegrated in the dampness
of the bioshelter.3 Consequently, the parasitized
scales were lost, and the E. formosa population took
a drastic dip. At relatively low temperatures,
18-2 1 C (64-70 F), the whitefy's life span is
longer and the female can lay many more eggs
than the parasitic wasp can! (See Figures 2 and
3. ) In the spring, as the whitefy population began
to gain momentum, the lack of 1ncuI:tu was most
felt. I began to search for an outside source of E.
formosa.
As routine practice, we made weekly counts of
whitefly adults and scales, and took parasitized
'Reference 2.
'In summer, parasitized scales can be pinned to the underside of
a fresh leaf surface with little disruption to . formosa's life cycle.
Helgesen and Tauber, iqq. Reference 4
Fi gure ! . White Fly's and E. formosa's Life Cycles
a
t 75F (24C).
r
Adul
t
White Fly
Thi rd
Emergence
First
Second
l
n
star
Eggs l nstar luooe
00 o-- ., ,,,, \: -u

Eggs l ai d i n
Third lnstar

o
_
t
-
i
z_
e
_
d
__
c
_
a
_
l e
E
;
e
n
ce
Adult wasp emerges from scale
E. formosa
0 3 6 9 1 2 1 5 1 8 2 1 24 27 30 33 36 39 42 45 48
Number of Days
scales from the spring tomato crop. We tallied a
random count from other plants in the Ark. I n
mid-May, I began to fnd parasitized scales on the
oldest leaves of the tomatoes. The crop by then
stood 6 ft tall, and was laden with clusters of fruit.
By June, the plants approached 8 ft in height and
the youngest leaves were well out of sight. Average
daily temperatures reached 25

C (75 5

F), but the
large whitefy scales outnumbered parasitized scales
many times over. (See Figure 4. ) At the end of the
month, sooty mold began to grow on the tops of
Figure 2. Lifetime Development far White Fl y/E.
o
mosa.
3U
2U
1 U
Number of Doys o.eTemperature
White ly
"
`
.

`
,
,, E. farmo:a

Temperature
*
Data based on Burnett, T .reference Z.
the leaves and the plants began to wilt.5 This could
only be attributed to an extreme infestation, with
the whitefly multiplying to a high density. Then
in the next two weeks, the number of parasitized
scales skyrocketed, but too late. The tomato plants
had sustained suffcient damage to curtail vigor
and growth. Physically, they appeared beaten. We
pulled the crop and I concluded that my manage
ment practices had failed.
'Black, sooty mold feeds on the whitefy's excretion, sticky sub
stance often called honeydew.
Figure 3. White Fly/E. formosa Fe
c
undity
>
o
c
^
v
O
u
l U
4
lunOer of Eggs per day over Temperature

.
~~ ~~~~~
e-perature
5
Figure 4. White Fly and . formosa Population Densities an Tomato Crop, Spring-Summer, ! V7V.
^.
O.
.
'
'
. `
o
.
! .
.
.
."
.~""
, "
"
May
7
7
7
.^
w
'^
7
I
June
What were the mistakes? What was so different
about that year compared to previous ones? The
grower bows her head and sorrowfully states,
"Optimism and ignorance; but for both our sakes
let's recount them just the same."
Predictably, when the diseased tomato leaves
decomposed, the mainstay in the diet of E. fonnosa
was forfeited. We should have begun the search
for a source of new parasites at that time. Waiting
until the abundance of whitefies became apparent
made for too long a delay. Presently, only one
commercial i nsectary on the North American con
tinent, the Canadian firm Better Yields I nsects,
located in Tecumseh, Ontario, breeds E. forrnosa.
A purchase from the United States requires an
importation permit from the USDA Animal and
Plant Protection Health Inspection Service. Per
mits take time, sometimes up to eight weeks.
The loss could have been otherwise prevented
had more than one type of host plant been pre
dominant in the Ark's breeding scheme. The
whitefly is attracted to more than 200 vegetable
and ornamental plants,6 but E. formosa is not as
extensive in the search for immature whitefy lar
vae. Tomato and tobacco cultivars are favored by
Russell, :g6j. Reference 1O.
July
A Parasitized White Fly Larva
l \
l \
\
\
\
\
\
\
\

\
\
\
\
\
\
\
~
August
"=
both, though other cool-season plants can be uti
lized as breeding stations. Nasturtiums and scented
geraniums are vigorous fowering plants that thrive
in the winter season of the bioshelter. Long-lived
or perennial host plants like these allow the En
cania to develop without disturbing their life cycle.
Yet another obstacle was a lack of information. It
is hard to know when exactly the whitefy popu
lation density reaches a level injurious to fruit
production.
When biological agents are depended on for in
sect control, it is necessary to have precise biolog
ical control recommendations for specific crops.
One should know, for example, that vegetables can
often take a higher pest population density than
ornamental plants. Without this type of informa
tion, the grower cannot know when his/her crop
is endangered. Luckmann and Metcalf state this
in terms of a population density reaching an eco
nomic threshold level, or beyond, to an economic
injury level.7 (See Figure 5. ) If the population den
sity of the pest exceeds the economic threshold
level for a particular crop, artificial controls are
justifed to prevent loss.
Tomatoes can tolerate a moderate number of
'Reference 8.
whiteflies, to 20 scales per square centimeter, until
the pest adversely affects crop yields.8 The survival
of a certain age-class of whitefy such as eggs, frst,
second, third, and fourth instar, is variable, spe
cifcally with regard to temperature.9 The ideal
ratio of E. formosa to its host is 1 : 30; the wasp lays
approximately 30 eggs in a lifetime. 10 The most
effective control is reached when the parasite is
introduced at a low whitefy population density,
certainly below a level causing economic injury.
For further coverage on how to establish E. formosa
successfully, read R. G. Helgesen and Maurice J.
Tauber's arti'le on the biological control of the
greenhouse whitefly. 1
1
Are there other control methods compatible with
E. formosa in checking whitefy populations? In the
context of the bioshelter environment, it's an im
portant question to ask. We hope other benefcial
insects help control this pest. We have observed
adult whitefy predation by damsel fies and spi
ders. Most likely, our quick-drawing frogs have
lashed out at a naive few. Other interactions may
have passed unnoticed. But evidently, the Ark's
combination of food, temperature, and a lack of
natural enemies favors the augmentation of a
whitefy population, especially in the spring. If the
managed resource ecosystem is to succeed, an in
tegrated pest control scheme is necessary.
Trap plants like nasturtiums serve well. Repel
lent plants such as white geranium can be useful.
Also helpful is learning what attracts both pre
dators and prey. Many plant feeders are attracted
'Hussey et al. 1 969. Reference 5
Helgesen and Tauber. '974 Reference 4
111Burnett, 1 949. Reference 1 .
"Reference 4
gUfe. ryC!e!0O tOOODI!e y OU\O!O O1OOO!OLfO. 1Dfee
DeOfO!e LO5e5 o!O!ng: |F) LOV OUO!OO Le5!y, O PUUI!OOO
'
OO!fO eeUeU; (B) CUO!O Le5!y PrOO0ng LCOOOC
1Dfe8DOU LeVe;(L) rOuO!O Le5!ykeUte5 PUU!OO LOO!fO
n!etVe!OO !O feVeO! LrC "eO LOOge.
c
':
74
v
] +~
~~
____
~~~
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e
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U
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r
I 6

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<
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to yellow and yellow-green colors. 1 2 A trapping
scheme that uses boards painted yellow and coated
with a sticky substance with a texture on the order
of fypaper has snagged the adult whitefy suc
cessfully.13 Among various trials, this method has
proven effective in collaboration with Encarsia foT
mosa for integrated control with established whi
tefly infestations.
Although biological control is the most desirable
method for controlling pest populations in a bio
shelter environment, effective mechanical controls
may fll the void when benefcial insect Sctivity is
low. Overall the objective remains to minimize the
existence of the pest by employing control strat
egies that will not disrupt the resource ecosystem.
Source for Encarsia formosa:
Better Yields Insects
1 331 0 Riverside Dr. E.
Tecumseh, Ontario N8N 1 B2
Canada
Minimum Order: 2,000
Importation permit is required for U.S.
Address for Importation Permit:
Importation Permits
Technical Service Staff
Plant Protection and Quarantine, APHIS USDA
Federal Center Bldg.
Rm. 670
Hyattsville, Maryland 20782
Form 526
REFERENCES
1 . THOMAS BURNE7. 1949. The effect of temper
ature on an insect host-parasite population. Ecolog
30: 1 1 3.
2. M. L. FLINT and RoBERT VAN DEN BoscH. 1977.
Sow
ce Book ofIntegrated Pest Management. Unpublished.

3 A. G. GENTILLE and D. T. ScANLON. Floricultural
insects and related pests-biology and control. Flo1'-
gram. Cooperative Extension Service, Suburban Exper
iment Station, University of Massachusetts, USDA.
q. R. G. HLC5N and M. J. TAUBER. 1974. Bio
logical control of greenhouse whitefy, Tl-ialeumdes va
porariorum (Aleyrodidae:Homoptera), on short-term crops
by manipulating biotic and abiotic factors. Canadian
Entomolog 106: 1 1 75.
5 N. Y U$5Y, Y. H. READ, and J. J. HESLING.
1969. The Pests ofPTotected Cultivation. London: Edward
Arnold.
"Lloyd, 1 921 . Reference 7
"Webb and Smith, '979 Reference 1 1 .
7
6. WILLIAM H. joRDAN, 1977. Windowsill Ecology.
Emmaus, Pa: Rodale Press, pp 167-187.
7 L. LLOYD. 192 1 . Notes on colour tropism of As
terochiton (aleurodes) vapormiorum (Westwood). Bulletin
ofEntomological Resources 12(3):355
8. W. H. LuCKMANN and R. L. METCALF. 1975. In
troduction to Insect Pest Management. N.Y.: jOHN WILEY,
587 pp.
g. J. R. NECHOLS and M. J. TAUBER. 1977. Age
specifc i nteraction between the greenhouse whitefly
and Encm-ia forosa: Infuence of host on the parasite's
oviposition and development. Envi1onmental Entomology
6( 1 ) : 143
1 0. L. M. RussELL. 1963. Host and distribution of
fve species of Trialeurodes (Homoptera:Aleyrodiadae).
Annuals ofEntomological Society ofAmeTica 56: 149+
1 1 . R. E. WEBB and F. F. SMITH. 1979. Greenhouse
whitefy control of an i ntegrated regimen based on adult
trapping and nymphal parasitism. Published for Fourth
Conference for Biological Control of Glasshouses. OILB/
SROP.
1 2. CoLLEEN ARMSTRONG. 1g8o. Insects in the Ark.
The joural ofThe New Alchemist 6: 1 49. Battleboro: Ste
phen Greene Press.
,He Ham]z,
Toxic Materials in the
Bioshelter Food Chains
and Surrounding
Ecosystems
Dr. Han Tai,2 Colleen Armtrong and
John Todd
The following tables show the results of a prelim
inary screening of potentially toxic materials that
might be found at the institute. DDT and chlor
dane, used some time before our tenancy on the
New Alchemy farm, still persist in the soils-an
unfortunate legacy from past farmers. The other
toxin, heptachlor epoxide, is a pesticide used be
fore World War I I . Its occurrence in soil is a
mystery.
The chlorinated hydrocarbons seemed to be
locked into the soils, reaching their greatest con
centrations in the field in front of the bioshelter,
then diminishing in the Ark, and ultimately dis
appearing in the woods that ring the farm. A re
port on heavy metals is not yet complete. Perhaps
the best news is that newer pesticides were not
found in the samples.
'The toxic substances study was fnanced jointly by Rockefeller
Brothers Fund (sampling, shipping, and evaluation) and the Envi
ronmental Protection Agency.
'Toxicant Analysis Center NSTUNASA Bay Saint Louis. MS 332
Table 1. A COMPARISON: LEVELS OF TOXIC MATERIAL I N ASSORTED VEGETATION SURROUNDING NEW ALCHEMY I NSTITUTE, OCTOBER
1 979. RESULTS IN PARTS PER BILLION.
.
Sites
Bioshelter I
Kale (leaves)
New Alchemy lnst.
Garden plot
Kale (leaves)
Non-organic
Garden plot
Kale (leaves)
Biosheller I
Tomato (fruit)
New Alchemy lnst.
Garden plots
Tomato (fruit)
Non-organic
Garden plot
Asparagus (leaves)
New Alchemy lnst.
Garden Plot
Asparagus (leaves)
New Alchemy lnst.
Garden plot
Carrot (root)
N.A.I. Garden plot
Adjacent road
Carrot (root)
Biosheller '
Celery (leaves)
New Alchemy lnst.
Garden Plot
Celery (leaves)
Woodlands adjacenl
New Alchemy lnst.
Bishops laurel
(leaves)
Technical
Chlordane
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
NO
pp
DOE
NO
NO
.
NO: Nondetectable, below detection limits.
Dash means test failed, no data available.
op
DDT
NO
NO
pp
DDT
NO
NO
Heptachlor
Epoxide
NO
NO
Dieldrin
NO
NO
Organo
Phosphates
NO
NO
Organo
Nitrogens
NO
NO
PCB's Pathalates
NO NO
NO NO
Table 2. A COMPARISON: LEVELS OF TOXIC MATERIAL IN WATER SOURES SURROUNDING NEW ALCHEMY INSTITUTE, DECEMBER 1979.
RESULTS IN PARTS PER BILLION.
Technical
PP
op pp Heptachlor Organa- Organa-
Sites Chlordane DOE DDT DDT Epoxide Dieldrin Phosphates Nitrogens PCB's Pathalates
OSDO!\OI I
Solar-Algae Ponds NO' NO NO NO ND NO NO NO NO NO
Bioshelter I
Cement Pond NO NO NO NO ND NO NO NO NO NO
New Alchemy lnst.
Original water
source NO NO NO NO ND NO NO NO NO NO
Natural Pond
Adjacent New
Alchemy lnst. NO NO NO NO ND NO NO NO NO NO
Spring Water
Source NO NO NO NO ND NO NO NO NO NO
Table 3. LEVELS OF TOXIC MATERIAL I N SOILS SURROUNDING NEW ALCHEMY INSTITUTE, NOVEMBER 1979. RESULTS IN PARTS PER
BILLION.
Technical pp op pp Heptachlor Organo- Organo-
Ss Chlordane DOE
Original
farmer field 313. 9 976.4
Field adjacent
Bioshelter l
O
320.6
Bioshelter I 249.7 160.0
Nonorganic
garden 67.2 51. 8
NAI garden
adjacent road 35.4 82.2
Household
greenhouse 193.0 c.!
Experimental plot
(bean field) 39.4 36.2
Leaf storage area 45.8 20.5
Woodland adjacent
to NAI 52.1
00ash means test failed, no data available.
DDT DDT
500.3 2794.7
80.2 506.2
64.8 300.8
29.8 1 20.8
1 7.3 1 1 4. 3
19.( 60.3
10.0 45.2
9.4 357
86.1
Table 4. EPA DETECTION LI MITS OF TOXIC MATERIAL ANALYSIS
FOR SOIL AND VEGETATION SAMPLES.
Toxic Material
1 . Early eluters: heptachlor epoxide
2. Late eluters: all DOTs, dieldrin
3. All multicomponent pesticides:
technical chlordane, PCBs
ppb: parts per billion.
Detection Limits (ppb)
0.01
0.02
0.05
Table 5. EPA DETECTION LIMITS OF TOXIC MATERIAL ANALYSIS
FOR WATER SAMPLES.
Toxic Material
1 . Early eluters: heptachlor epoxide
2. Late eluters: all DOTs, dieldrin
3. All multicomponent compounds:
technical chlordane, PCBs
4. Organophosphates
Early eluters
Mid eluters
Late eluters
ppb: parts per billion.
Detection Limits (ppb)
0.10
0.50
1 .50
1 . 00
2.50
5.00
Table 6. TIME COMPARISON OF TOXIC MATERIAL IN BIOSHELTER
SOILS 1979. RESULTS IN PARTS PER MILLION.
Toxic Material
Technical chlordane
p, p = ODE
o, p DOT
P, P = DOT
Heptachlor epoxide
January 1979
0.51
0. 14
0.09
0.34
0.01
November 1979
0.25
0. 16
0.06
0.30
0.01
Epoxide Dieldrin
8.8 8.5
NO NO
9.8 NO
NO ND
NO NO
NO NO
ND ND
ND
ND ND
Phosphates Nitrogens
NO NO
NO NO
NO NO
NO ND
ND NO
NO NO
ND NO
NO NO
NO NO
Reg lazing
John Wole
PCBs Pathalates
NO NO
NO NO
NO NO
ND ND
ND ND
NO NO
ND ND
ND ND
ND NO
The winter of 1 978-1 979 seemed unusually hard
on Cape Cod Ark: plants grew slowly, the night
air temperatures chilled almost to freezing, and
the solar-algae ponds chilled to nearly the lethal
limit for our tropical fish. Meanwhile, returing
friends who last saw the Ark just after its comple
tion kept commenting on how much whiter the
fiberglass glazing appeared.
In late winter we made a computer prediction
of light transmission through the fberglass-rein
forced plastic cover and into the Ark. We also
measured light levels outside and in the Ark. Mea
sured light transmission through the glazing into
the Ark was only one-half to two-thirds of pre
dicted levels. "Either a mistake in our computer
program or the unpredicted effects of water con
densation on the fberglass," we surmised.
By midsummer we had second thoughts and
contacted the manufacturer. Yes, they told us, it
was possible for their oldest version of solar glazing
to deteriorate in the Ark's three-year lifetime. No,
painting new resin over the old probably wouldn't
recover the original light transmissivity. According
to the manufacturer, the old material degraded
because glass fbers extended through the resin to
the interior surface of the glazing. Moisture wicked
through these fibers into the core of the glazing
and under hot, sunny conditions turned into steam.
This burst the fberglass along a myriad of tiny
cracks, crazing and whitening the glazing. Their
new glazing, they assured us, had a protective coat
ing on the interior side, and they donated enough
new fberglass to cover the south face of the Ark.
When the fberglass arrived in September the
work began. The old panels had been secured with
hundreds of galvanized screws and sealed with an
impressively durable and tenacious bead of silicone
caulk. All the old work had to be undone, and new
panels had to be assembled in the barn by pop
riveting the new fberglass to both sides of alu
minum channels that acted as spacers. The fber
glass sheets flex easily when not in place, and the
most diffcult task was moving the fexible panels
without accidentially creasing or cracking the sheets.
As a side project, we upgraded the Ark's weath
erstripping and wall insulation.
Nearly every Alchemist and apprentice, skilled
or inexperienced, helped in the mammoth under
taking, as well as volunteers from as near as Fal
mouth and as far away as Costa Rica. Profciencies
were cultivated in pop-riveting, caulking, drill
screwing, and teetering on ladders.
Would we repeat the same design next time?
The panels, curving inward in the center to form
concave troughs, have their advantages. The curve
transmits light more evenly through the day than
a flat surface, avoiding the sharp peak of heat input
at noon characteristic of fat glazing surfaces. Com
paring the curved surface with the flat, less light
enters at noon, but more light enters near sunrise
and sunset. New Alchemy computer simulations
of light transmission suggest that over a day almost
exactly the same total amount of light gts through
the curved surface as a fat one. The more evenly
distributed light of the curved panels probably in
creases plant photosynthesis by avoiding both leave
overheating around noon and underlighting in the
early morning and late afternoon. More constant
light entry also prevents excessive air temperatures
and allows storage components more time to soak
up the heat.
The curves also give strength, allowing much
less structural support. The bellies of the fberglass
draw water condensation away from the structural
wood rafters and down to a drip edge that spills
the condensation droplets into the gutter. Each
panel collects as much as a gallon of condensate
over a winter night.
On the negative side, the curves add 1 2 percent
more surface area than a fat expanse on the south
side, and the heat loss through the glazing is cor
respondingly higher. Curving the panels, hanging
them in place, and sealing the edges consume
enormous amounts of time.
If we did choose to keep the same shape, we
might assemble the panels differently next time.
Rather than a sandwich of wood two-by-two inside,
fberglass sheet, aluinum channel, fberglass sheet,
wood 1x batten outside, we might use a sandwich
of bevel-edged two-by-six support inside, fiberglass
(0.025 in.), 1 x wood spacer, fberglass (o.o4 in. ),
outside aluminum angle batten (see accompanying
diagram).
The wooden spacers avoid the time-consuming
procedure of pop-riveting the fiberglass to the
aluminum channel. Wood spacers should also al
low the fberglass to be nailed directly to the sup
port rafter. The thin outside aluminum batten
avoids the early morning and late afternoon shad
ing that occurs with thicker wooden battens that
protrude above the glazing surfaces.
Outside
Old design
Alternative design
~~~% X 7Y
Z x 7
.4 glazing
ZD glazing
Outside
Aluminum right angle ---
4 7 ZV2
^
1
.4 glazing
.ZD glazing - -
Bevel-edged Z 4
Inside
"he otigInoIinnerskin was0.04in. fiberglassteIn!oroopolyester. The0.025in. skin wasInstoI!ed
upreglozing for bener light transmission.
Time constraints limited the reglazing project
to reassembling the old design. The project was
completed in November 1979 and cost the institute
$1 ,083 in professional carpentry help and $946 in
materials beyond those contributed. In addition,
the project required several person-months of New
Alchemy staff labor. We trust that we will not have
to repeat such a massive undertaking in the near
future, that the manufacturer's claim of a 20 year
lifetime for the new glazing is true. The longevity
of solar glazings remains a critical question for
materials science.
The initial results of installing the new glazing
are encouraging. The panels appear more trans
parent than the old ones ever were. The vegetable
crop in December 1 979 outweighed production in
December 1 978 by 2. 7 times. Though crops and
weather differed slightly, the predominant change
was the new glazing. The Ark once again sails
through winter blizzards with a tropical climate
within.
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 III
Moeling ad Desig of Future
Bioshelters
joe Seale and john Wolfe
There are myriad design possibilities for the next
generation of bioshelters. Questions that need to
be answered concern such diffcult design trade
offs as light vs. warmth and such elegant design
synergies as aquaculture units doubling as heat
storage. Building shape, glazing, thickness of in
sulation, insulated area, and internal components
infuence the interior solar climate. Creating com-
puter models to test such design variables is con
siderably more economical than putting up sepa
rate buildings to do so. The computer model,
called SUN AI \, explores domes with different
types and numbers of solar membranes, with dif
ferent aspects (height-to-diameter ratio) and with
various interior confgurations of soil, plants, and
water.
liZ THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
Description of the Program
DOME 1 dynamically simulates solar dome tem
peratures based on hourly weather data measured
at Boston's Logan Airport. The weather data con
sists of wind speed, temperature, total incidence
of solar radiation, and a computed breakdown into
direct and diffuse sunlight components. In com
parison to Logan, New Alchemy on Cape Cod ex
periences lower wind speeds, slightly higher tem
peratures, and more sunlight.
The shape of the dome is approximated by so
facets. Light penetration of each facet is based on
the solar incidence angle with respect to the facet
and a transmission function based on the glazing
materials (fve glazing confgurations are tested).
Structural framing reduces the effective glazing
area. Light penetrating the dome and hitting the
opposite glazing i s partially transmitted and par
tially reflected back into the dome.
The absorption of entering light is divided three
ways according to the solar elevation. The three
absorptive surfaces are
1 . Translucent aquaculture silos.
2. Soil.
3 Plant surfaces in thermal eq.uilibrium with the air.
The heat storage elements are: air (includes plant
mass), the water of the aquaculture units, and soil
subdivided into three layers (0-3, 3-1 2 , and 1 2-36
in. in depth).
Heat fow driven by temperature differences
occurs between
1 . The adjacent layers of soil.
2. The topsoil layer and interior air.
3 Water and interior air.
4 Interior air and exterior air.
Interior-to-exterior heat exchange includes a com
bined conduction/convection/radiation coefficient
for the dome glazing and a comparable term for
the structural members. Air infltration comprises
additional heat loss and depends on air humidity
and wind speed.
Easily varied input parameters include the
following:
1 . Dome radius and height.
2. Shading from structural framing.
3 Thermal conductivity of structural framing.
4 Glazing confguration (number of layers and types
of glazing, including Southwall Corporation's HEAT
MIRROR.
5 Reference air infiltration rate and wind speed
dependence.
6. Average dome humidity.
7. Plant cover as a fraction of total ground area.
8. Ground corrugation factor (corrects air/soil heat
transfer area for raised growing beds).
Q. Soil thermal conductivity and heat storage capacity.
10. Number of standard-size solar ponds (5 ft di
ameter and 5 ft high water-flled silos).
1 1. Overheating temperature above which heat is
vented to the outside.
1 2. Time interval of the simulation.
The computer, directed by DOME 1 , takes TMY
weather data, combines it with the hypothetical
building's characteristics, and predicts the resulting
light awl temperature level within. The computer
makes its predictions by moving through imagi
nary time in small increments (or steps), calculating
temperatures within the building at each step. This
is the process of computer simulation. For all sim
ulation runs that follow, the interval was six min
utes. For each time interval the program computes
rates of heat fow according to present temperature
differences and insulation rate (sunlight intensity)
as thus rates of temperature change. These rates
determine temperatures at the next time point and
ultimately the temperature fuctuations through
time.
The simulated temperatures may be slightly
underestimated because
1 . Air flm thermal resistances on the inside and out
side of the dome skin may be considerably higher than
the standard ASHRAE (American Society of Heating,
Refrigration, and Air Conditioning Engineers) coeff
cients used. The dome's shape may foster low turbu
lence air fow along its inner and outer surfaces, creating
a thick insulating air film.
2. Refection of light into the dome off the ground
surrounding the dome is not considered.
3 Heat production from compost is not considered.
On the other hand, the simulated temperatures
may be slightly overestimated because
1 . Ground perimeter heat loss is not considered.
2. Reflection of light off interior surfaces and back
out the dome is not considered.
Results
The cSUI$ O the DOME1 simulation are sum
marized in Tables 1 , 2, and 3 The program's
weather data covers the period from January 1 5
to February 1 4, and encompasses the harshest
combination of cold weather, cloudiness, and low
sun angles. In all runs the dome diameter is set
at 80 ft. The model assumes the
d
ome contains no
active fan-driven heat storage components, but
does include 36 solar ponds (sft diameter and sft
high water-flled silos).
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 IIJ
Table 1 . CONDITIONS IN HYPOTHETICAL DOME BIOSHELTERS-AN. 15 TO FEB. 14.
Glazings Aspect' Interior
Light
Level"
Three (heat mirror) v. 277
31s 323
v. 378
Three (reg. film) v. 345
394
v. 453
Two reg. layers '
I 358
% 408
'12 469
HeighVdiameter; diameter is always 80 ft.
"Light has the units BTU tt-2 day- on the plant beds.
Although the computer calculates new light in
tensities every hour, and new heat flow rates and
temperatures every six minutes, the information
from a monthlong simulation can be summarized
by the following fve numbers.
1 . Light intensity inside the dome striking the plant
beds, averaged over the month (BTU ft-
2
day-' ). Com
pare these fgures to __O BTU ft-2 day
- ' day for av
erage light levels striking the ground outside.
2. Average midpoint temperature of dome air: the
midpoint between daily minimum and maximum tem
peratures, averaged for the month. This is near, and
probably slightly higher than, the average temperature.
The outside average midpoint temperature was 28. 8

F for the simulation month.
_. Average daily temperature swing of dome air: the
difference between daily minimum and maximum tem
peratures, averaged for the month. The average daily
temperature swing for outside air was 1 2.4

F for the
simulation.
_. & _. Monthly temperature extremes for dome air:
the coldest and hottest temperatures found inside the
dome over the entire simulation month. The outside
air temperature extremes were 6 and 55 F. The inside
overheating temperature, at which venting occurs, is
so F for all the following simulations.
All fve variables affect plant productivity within
the dome. Higher light levels enhance plant growth.
All crop varieties have an optimum average ter-
Table 2. INTERIOR LIGHT LEVELS AND MINIMUM TEMPERATURES
FOR VARIOUS DOME GLAZINGS AND ASPECTS, INDEXED TO THE
HEAT MIRROR SANDWICH AND TO THE SHALLOW Y. DOME. BASED
ON DATA FROM TABLE 1 .
Light Index (Ratio):
Glazing Comparison
3 w/H. M. 1 .0
3 wiFi
l
m = 1 .20 to 1 . 25
2 Layers = 1 .24 to 1 . 29
Aspect Comparison
'I
1 .0
= 1 . 1 4 to 1 1 . 1 7
Z = 1 .31 to 1 .36
Minimum Temperature Index (Degrees Fahrenheit):
Glazing Comparison Aspect Comparison
3 wiH. M. 0.0
Y. 0.0
3 w/Film -4.6 to - 4.9 -2. 6 to -3. 0
2 Layers = -9. 2 to - 10. 1 'I' = -5. 2 to -6. '
Temperatures ("F)
Avg. Avg. Daily Monthly
Midpoint Swi ngs Extremes
55.3 13.9 42.4-74.3
55.0 15. 1 39.7-74.8
53.0 16.4 36.3-73.6
53.6 1 6.5 37.8-74.7
51. 7 17. 5 34.8-73.6
49.6 18. 5 31 .7-72.3
48.4 16. 4 32.3-69.5
46.7 1 7.4 29.7-68.5
46.1 18.2 27.1-67. 8
perature and an optimum day/night temperature
swing (cool night temperatures reduce plant res
piration, encouraging more effcient growth). Ex
tremely low and high temperatures can perma
nently damage crops. Temperatures that persist
below freezing can destroy even cool-weather crops,
and temperatures above 8o-ss F often cause
bolting and bitter favor.
Table 1 compares solar domes with different
numbers and kinds of glazings, and with different
height-to-diameter ratios (aspects). The glazings
considered are the following:
1. Three layers of solar covers. The interior and ex
terior glazings are made of low-iron glass. Between
them lies Suntek's Heat Mirror, a flm that transmits
some sunlight but refects back into the dome most of
the infrared radiation that would othewise represent a
heat loss. Heat Mirror must be placed in a dessicated
space between layers of vapor-impervious material (e.g.,
glass).
Maximum Light Transmission: 6o%
Heat Loss Coeffcient: O. 2_ BTU ft-
2
hr- 1 F-
'
2. Three layers of standard solar covers. Low-iron
glass or a plastic equivalent make up the inner and
outer skins. Between them lies a highly transparent solar
flm (e.g., one mil Teflon FEP flm).
Maximum Light Transmision: 74%
Heat Loss Coeffcient: O.qO BTU fC
2
hr- 1 F-'
_. Two layers of standard solar covers, consisting of
low-iron glass or a plastic equivalent.
Maximum Light Transmissiin: 78%
Heat Loss Coeffcient: o.6o BTU ft-
2
hr-1 F-1
These glazing alternatives represent a very im
portant trade-off between light transmission and
insulating value.
The height-to-diameter ratios, or aspects, con
sidered are:
1 . A shallow v+ dome with a maximum height of 20
ft and a diameter of So ft.
2. A moderate Y dome with a height of _G ft.
_. A full hemisphere (
2
) dome with a height of gO
ft.
Table 3. AIR AND WATER TEMPERATURE DATA FOR VARIOUS DESIGN CONFIGURATIONS AND MODEL COEFFICIENTS
JAN. 1 5 TO FEB. 14.
Temperatures (F)
Inside /r Solar Ponds
Avg. Avg.
Daily Monthly Daily Monthly
Midpoint Avg. Swing Extremes Midpoint Avg. Swing Extremes
STANDARD RUN
3 w/H. M. 55.0 15. 1 39.7-74.8 55.8 3. 1 45.4-65.0
3 w/Film 51 . 7 17.5 34.8-73.6 52.7 3.6 42.2-62.9
2 Layers 46 7 17.4 29.,7-6.5 47.8 3.6 38.2-58.0
ALUMINUM STRUCTURE AS THERMAL BRIDGE
3 w/H.M. 50.6 14.8 35.0-69.6 51. 5 3.0 41 .4-63.3
3 w/Film 48.8 17. 2 31. 9-70.0 49.9 3.5 39.7-61 . 7
2 Layers 44.9 17. 1 27.9-66.7 4t.1 3.5 36.9-57.1
LOWER AIR INFILTRATION RATE
3 w/H.M. 57.5 15. 5 43.1 -78.9 57.7 3. 2 48.7-67.8
3 w!Film 53.3 18.0 36.9-78.1 53.8 3.7 44.0-65.2
2 Layers 47.7 17.8 31 . 1 -72.2 48.4 3.7 39.1 -59.8
NO SOLAR PONDS
3 w/H.M. 54.5 24.6 31. 9-80.0 54.8 4.5 41 .9-67.1
3 w!Film 51. 6 27.8 27.3-80.0 51.8 5.0 39.1-65.0
2 Layers 47.4 27.6 23.4-80.0 47.3 4.8 35.0-60.5
NO PLANT COVER
3 w!H. M. 53.9 1 1 .3 40.1-70.4 55.9 2. 7 45.9-64.4
3 w/Film 50.3 13. 1 34.9-69.4 52.7 3. 2 42.6-62.5
2 Layers 45.3 13. 2 29.9-64.8 47.8 3. 1 38.6-57.7
FLAT GROUND, NO RAISED BEDS
3 w/H.M. 55.3 16.9 38.8-76.8 55.7 3.3 45.2-65.1
3 w/Film 52.0 19. 5 33.8-75.7 52.6 3. 7 42.0-62.6
2 Layers 47.0 19. 2 28.9-70.5 47.7 3. 7 38.1-58. 2
WET, HEAVY SOI L
3 w/H.M. 55.4 14. 3 40.3-74.8 56.3 3. 1 45.6-66.8
3 w/Film 51. 8 16. 7 35.2-72.8 52.8 3. 6 42.3-64.3
2 Layers 46.7 16. 6 30.1-67.6 47.9 3. 6 38.3-59.5
DRY, LIGHT SOIL
3 w/H.M. 55.0 15.9 39.1-75.5 55.5 3.2 45.3-64.5
3 w/Film 51 .7 18. 5 34.2-74.4 52.4 3.7 42.1 -62.5
2 Layers 46.7 18. 3 29.2-69.5 47.6 3.7 38.1-58.1
LOWER RELATIVE HUMIDITY (50%)
5
7
. 1 3 w/H.M. 56.3 15. 2 40.0-76.7 3. 2 46.3-67.4
3 w/Film 52.4 17. 7 35.3-74.6 53.3 3. 7 42.7-64.5
2 Layers 47.2 17. 5 30.1-69.5 48.1 3.6 38.5-58.8
Height is always 30 ft. diameter 80 ft. Aspecl is therefore .
Table 1 shows that during even the harshest
month, the triple-glazed domes create an accept
able greenhouse environment. The table also re
veals three very important trends:
1. The higher the aspect of the dome, the more light
strikes the plant beds.
testing). In all cases a Yaspect 8o ft diameter dome
is tested with the three glazing confgurations listed
above. All the results are compared to the "stan
dard run," which matches the results listed in Ta
ble 1 . Table 3 lists solar pond water temperatures
as well as interior air temperatures.
2. The higher the aspect of the dome, the wider the
temperature swings and the lower the minimum monthly
temperatures.
_. The heat mirror glazing sandwich creates the
warmest temperatures but the lowest light levels, while
the two layers of glazing create the highest light levels
aHU |c cGGlc| |cmQcraIurc.
The Yaspect heat mirror dome and the v aspect
regular triple glazed dome represent the best com
promise between light and warmth. Temperatures
are a bit lower than the Cape Cod Ark, while light
levels are slightly higher.
Table 3 evaluates the thermal impact of various
design options (design testing), and examines
changes in assumed model coeffcients (sensitivity
In the standard run, the model assumes the
aluminum framing for the geodesic structure has
a thermal R-value of one (plus air flm resistance).
This insulating value could be provided by 7+ in.
foam covering the inner or outer surface of the
aluminum framing, or by a 1 in. wood spacer be
tween inner and outer aluminum ribs.
The frst design test in Table 3 looks at what
happens if the aluminum structure is continuous
from interior to exterior, creating a thermal "bridge"
or "short circuit" for escaping heat. The change
lowers minimum temperatures in all cases. It most
drastically affects the best-insulated dome glazed
with heat mirror (causing a 4.7 F drop in mini
mum temperature) and least affects the worst-in
sulated double glazed dome (causing only a 1 .8
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 li
S
F drop). Insulating the structural members is more
critical in the well-insulated design because heat
loss from uninsulated members is great relative to
the small total heat loss.
The second design test, reducing the air infl
tration rate, demonstrates the inverse of the same
principle. Lowering the air infltration rate makes
a significant improvement in the well-insulated
heat mirror dome (a 34o F gain) and a lesser im
provement in the double glazed dome (a 1 .4 F
gain).
The third design test removes the aquaculture
component from the building. With the removal
of this major thermal mass, all the domes exhibit
I0 F wider average daily temperature swings, and
6-8 F lower monthly minimum temperatures.
This computer run demonstrates the critical role
solar ponds play in storing heat.
The drop in minimum temperature is greatest
in the heat mirror dome. Successive degradations
in dome insulation or heat storage cause lessening
decrements in temperature. In the extreme cases
of no insulation or no storage, nighttime dome
temperatures could drop no lower than ambient
temperatures. Hence we fnd that the more poorly
insulated dome configurations have less to lose by
reductions in heat storage.
The inverse of the heat storage principle is dem
onstrated in the next case. Here the plant cover
is removed (in the standard run, plants cover 70
percent of the available surface area). This allows
sunlight to strike the soil directly, rather than strik
ing plant leaves that in turn heat the air. Thus
removing the plant cover increases the effective
ness of soil heat storage. As the heat-retention
principle suggests, this leads to a 0.4 F improve
ment in minimum temperatures for the heat mir
ror dome, but only a 0. 2 F increase for the double
glazed dome. In absolute terms, plant cover is not
a critical factor in either case.
In the standard run, soil surface exchange area
is enhanced by taking into account the sides of
walk-way trenches between raised plant beds (a 1 .4
times greater surface area than fat was assumed).
As shown in Table 3, a flat growing surface yields
slightly wider temperature swings and slightly
lower minimum temperatures. The drop is small,
but perhaps signifcant (o.go F for heat mirror,
o.8 F for double glazing).
The last three runs change assumed coeffcients
in the model, and provide what is known as a
sensitivity test. The frst two of these runs examine
the assumed properties of the dome's soil. In the
frst run, a wetter and heavier soil than that in the
standard run is assumed. In the second run, a
drier and lighter (e.g., higher humus content) soil
is assumed. The wetter and heavier the soil, the
better it holds and conducts heat. The extremes
between wet and dry soil properties account for
only a o.go to 1 . 2 F change in minimum temper
atures of the simulation runs. The model is there
fore not very sensitive to the unknown properties
of the particular soil in the dome.
The last run alters the assumed average relative
humidity of the air. At typical indoor tempera
tures, small changes in relative humidity represent
large cha
n
ges in air heat content because of the
heat content of the water vapor. Losing humid
interior air means a much greater heat loss than
losing dry air of the same temperature. The stan
dard run assumes a relative humidity of 70%
whereas the last run assumes 50 percent. A 0-4
to 1 . 1 o F increase in minimum temperature results.
The average relative humidity is a large unknown
in the model; in the Cape Cod Ark relative hu
midity cycles as low as 30 percent during the day
and as high as 100 percent at night. The relative
humidity has more impact during the day, when
temperatures are elevated, since warmer air holds
more water vapor at a given relative humidity. In
future models it may be worthwhile to model the
humidity cycles directly, although the present model
does not seem unduly sensitive to different as
sumed humidities.
In summary then, four conclusions can be drawn:
1 . An acceptable winter greenhouse environment is
created by a triple glazed dome (with or without the
special heat mirror film) containing solar ponds and
situated i
n
coastal New England.
2. The shallower the dome, the darker and warmer
the interior becomes.
_. Better insulation, more heat storage, and more
heat-storage exchange surface all reduce temperature
swings and raise temperatures.
q Insulation and heat-storage improvements have a
greater temperature effect on already well insulated
domes.
The next step in modeling solar domes is to
examine them with opaque, insulated walls having
refective inner surfaces. Examining light entry
through separate facets of clear domes can suggest
the best glazing/insulation boundary for domes
partially clad with opaque insulation. The facets
transmitting the least amount of light should be
insulated frst.
Figure 1 shows the average daily incoming light
transmitted through 300 facets of a double-glazed
hemispherical dome. Figure 2 depicts light enter
ing each facet, minus light that enters from the
opposite side, shoots through the dome, and exits
out that facet. Negative numbers occur along the
steep northern facets in Figure 2, indicating that
more sunlight leaves through these facets than
SLOPE OF DOME ( 90=VERTICAL )
COMPASS FACE O DOME
( too INCREMENTS)
s
Figure 1 . Incoming light gain transmitted through 300 facets of a double-glazed dome.
Logan Airport, Boston, Massachusetts for a statistically typical Januar 1 to
February 1 4 period.
enters. To maximize winter light levels on the
growing beds, it is actually desirable to cover these
facets with refective foil to bounce outgoing light
back into the building.
When using Figures \ and 2, two caveats about
the assumptions behind the model are in order:
1 . No ground refection is included in the model.
This assumption underestimates light entry for steeper
southerly surfaces.
2. Diffuse radiation is assumed evenly distributed
across the sky. In fact, diffuse radiation clusters around
the sun's position (see sky distribution patterns of dif-
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 1I7
s
Figure 2. Net light gain (entering minus exiting light) through 300 facets of a double
glazed dome. Logan Airport, Boston, Massachusetts for a statistically typical
January 1 5!o February 1 4pcr|od.
fuse radiation diagrammed on p. o2 of Duffe and Beck
man's Solar Engneerng of Thennal Processes. The as
sumption tends to underestimate lI_ht entry on steeper
south sides, overestimate it on the north.
Future versions of the computer model will ex
amine north wall insulation, movable night insu-
lation, and other shapes (such as Quonset and P-
frame). With the climates of all these design op
tions quantifed by the computer model, we can
then predict the crop productivity and capital cost
of each design option. We will then know which
design gives the maximum yield of organically
grown off-season vegetables per dollar invested.
Ro Zwg
P UTTING OURSELVES
o n t he LINE
They say that there is often a certain simultaneity
to new ideas. The experience of Alfred Wallace and
Charles Darwin-who independently came up with
similar theories of evolution-comes at once to
mind. In a modest way, in early 1979 the same sort
of thing occurred at New Alchemy. For years we
had been shifting a bit uneasily when enthusiastic
visitors to the farm would say something like, "It's
wonderful l And I suppose you live like this at home
too?"
Awkward. Because at the time, we didn't. But in
the early winter of 1979, Denise-stationed in the
main office, which functions rather like the central
nervous system of the place-was the first to get
wind of what was coming. She began to pick up
scraps from various conversations, direct or over
heard. Piecing them together she came up with the
news that six different New Alchemy households
had decided to go solar. Predictably and charac
teristically, we were all intending to do so in six
very different, highly individual ways. Just what the
dynamics were that made this blossoming of solar
structures close to simultaneous, we're still not sure.
Perhaps sometimes ideas are contagious, like colds.
A year and more later our respective efforts at
solarizing are complete. I asked the various people
involved to tell their stories in their own ways. The
pieces that follow are just that: why and how six
different households incorporated solar green
houses into their lives and how it feels to have done
so.
N.J. !
The BAM
1
Greenhouse:
Homemade Tapestry
Hilde M aingay
It is winter vacation 1 980. Flowering geraniums,
impatiens, and nasturtiums. A summer bouquet
in the winter. Sitting at the table, I can stretch my
arm to pick a big salad for dinner. I clip the lawn
of the foor under the table-no sweeping here!
The kids play a game of cards in T-shirts. Laughter
and red, warm faces. A cool drink of grape juice,
'BAM = Barnhart-Atema-Maingay greenhouse. ,
ll
9
just taken from the icehouse, in their hands. Not
too much later and the grapevine just outside the
greenhouse door wil be "watered" by the boys. Ate
walks by the honey pot in the kitchen, sticks his
fnger in the pot and licks, then goes outside to
get some logs of firewood.
The smells from the oven mix with those from
the scented geraniums. A kale and chard soufe
is cooking. Sven takes the container with kitchen
scraps and empty eggshells outside to the chickens,
returns with a handful of beautiful eggs. Jurgen
is in charge of making dinner. He loves custard
pudding-the fresh eggs never make it to the cold
storage in the icehouse. Layers of homemade ap
plesauce alternate with layers of custard pudding
and are topped with raspberry sauce! The rasp
berries last year were picked from the bushes in
the chicken yard near by. The bushes give shade
to the chickens and pollen to the bees, the chickens
in turn keep the berry patch weeded and fertilized
while the bees pollinate the berry fowers and give
us honey to make the sauce.
While dinner is getting ready, I mix up some
potting soil. As is the soil for the vegetable beds
in the greenhouse, the potting soil is mainly made
up from the soil and manure in the chicken yard
(a bag of laying mash can go a long way-eggs,
meat, compost), then mixed with the some peat
moss and vermiculite. I seed a fat with birdhouse
gourds, special seeds grown by a member of the
American Gourd Society. The gourds last for sev
eral years and will attract many birds to the gar
dens where they will act as a natural pest control.
It is eighty degrees in the greenhouse, bright
and light. The house is comfortable at seventy
degrees, but the lights are already on. The kids'
rooms in the basement are pretty constant at a cool
sixty to sixty-five degrees. Little excess heat comes
from the oil furnace-next to their rooms-these
days, as it no longer needs to run except for do
mestic hot water. Ate starts the fre in the wood
stove, puts the insulated shutters in the windows.
The sun is low behind our neighbor's house. It will
soon get chilly in the greenhouse. The kettles are
flled with water and put on the stove. Drips of
water sizzle as the stove is heating up-there will
be hot water for dishes, coffee, and tea after
dinner.
In the greenhouse the chameleon moves slowly
behind the Spanish moss hanging in the bamboo.
A spider drops down from the wooden beam. Ants
crawl into their hideouts behind the stone walls,
and L. ]. , our big white daddy goose, knocks on
the glass door of the greenhouse asking for com
pany and some fresh kale, chard, and grass shoots.
Tomorrow I will sprinkle the wood stove ashes on
the lawn so the grass will get rich and green in the
spring when the goslings will hatch. Tomorrow
also will do some bench grafting onto the hardy
apple rootstocks and pot the new bee plants that
just arrived today through the mail. Let's see
. . . and then I should also seed the tomatoes,
eggplants, peppers, chard, marigolds, rosemary,
thyme, parsley, and sage-and a few cucumbers
to replace the winter greens in the greenhouse and
provide shade in the summer-and I shouldn't
forget to check on the nuts that are being stratifed
in the cold storage, and . . .
"Dinner is ready, Mom. "
"Earle, dinner!"
The BAM Greenhouse:
It's Great
Ate Atema
It's great. The greenhouse adds a new feel to the
house, a more unrestricted feel. At times, letting
the temperature soar to 1 20 degrees and the hu
midity to saturation while reading or just simply
relaxing can be undeniably therapeutic to mind
and body.
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Eare Bamlar
An amazing fact of life with the greenhouse is
its truly open warmth in the winter. I f only we
could tear down the wall separating it from our
dining room; it would be quite an experience to
have a formal meal by candlelight under the stars
and surrounded by a crush of foliage in the midst
of December.
Having the greenhouse is fantastic. As a matter
of fact, it's so much fun, I don't think could
imagine having a house without at least something
like this.
The BAM Greenhouse:
Notes on Intent, Function,
and Form
Earle Barhart
I n the lineage of bioshelters, the several attached
home greenhouses built by New Alchemists this
past year are not so much a second generation as
they are stepchildren. Each is descended partly
from New Alchemy's experimental/research bio
shelters and partly from individual family style,
and the resulting forms are surprisingly different.
As an institute we will continue to evolve successive
generations of experimental bioshelters to explore
concepts, but as individuals we will fnd that these
at-home systems will be the real test of practical
viability.
Our greenhouse was designed to include several
qualities either overlooked or lacking in the Ark.
We wanted it to be architecturally durable, do
mestically comfortable, and relatively maintance
free. The clearest lesson we learned by planning
and constructing the greenhouse is that there are
great advantages to building carefully and slowly:
carefully so that shortcuts are not forever-after
regretted and slowly so that serendipitous changes
can be considered and included. We did all of the
construction ourselves, slowly, and in many in
stances suddenly saw that a variation from the
original drawings would be much more convenient
or aesthetic. These were invariably matters of per
ception, unpredictable from paper drawings, such
as where was most pleasing to walk and what
shapes of corners or heights of ceilings seemed
comfortable. Often an array of strings or light
poles at the proposed position would decide the
matter.
Concepts and details of design that may be of
interest include the following:
Dumbility-We wanted a structure that we would not
have to worry about, replace, nor repair for a long
time. The post-and-beam construction we chose will
support every conceivable snow load and minimizes
lapping lumber, which is prone to hold moisture.
Thermopane glass inlaid into the beams minimizes
maintenance. All connections are screwed for easier
replacement.
Annual Function-There is a tendency for new green
house designers to think only of heat and only of
midwinter. In reality the greenhouse is growing
plants year-round, and for most of the year heat is
uol as important as enough lighc. We adopted the
strategy of using the money normally put into several
small vents toward large doors that open in summer
and three glass roof panels that slide open. These
changes reduce the distinction between inside and
outside and let the greenhouse appmach outdoor
conditions.
Pmctical Matters-Our greenhouse has places to grow
food, start seedlings, propagate perennial food plants,
take a shower, eat lunch, and store food. Getting high
and meditating through one means or another will
not be treated in this section.
Innovation and Testing-There are a few ideas about
bioshelters that can best be tested with the interactions
of a household. We would like to test such integra
tions as: ( 1 ) Using heat from daily graywater to heat
the greenhouse in the winter; (2) Using a wind-pow
ered freezer to cool the icehouse adjacent to the
greenhouse; (3) Gradually propagating the perennial
food plants needed to landscape the property; (4)
Exploring the physical, psychic, and spiritual impli
cations of someday living in a larger, community-scale
bioshelter.
Architectural Aesthetics-Appearance and material beauty
count as much as effciency in a living space. We
wanted to be able to see into our back yard, to have
a table for greenhouse dining, and to be able to enter
oi travel through the area easily, enjoying the ma
terials used. Our ideal is to have such a blend of
plants, floors, glass, and terraces that one can't be
certain whether one is inside or outside.
We Scrounged and
Recycled
Denise and Dick Backus
Each winter afternoon at dusk the cry of "shade
and curtain time" goes through the house as one
of us reminds the rest to draw the shades and
curtains against the night. We've also added in
sulation and used laminated refective backing on
curtains to seal up northern windows (unimportant
in our house) in our attempts to keep in that pre
cious heat we've paid so dearly for. What to do
next?
D Bs
The main rooms of our house-the kitchen and
the living room-face due south and invite the
attachment of a solar greenhouse. Because we have
a lot to learn, we have begun by putting up a small
and inexpensive structure. The greenhouse is about
1 3 ft long, 6l
2
ft from front to back, and 10 ft
high at its point of attachment to the house. It
encloses two living room windows and two cellar
windows. The living room windows open high up
i n the greenhouse and the cellar ones at ground
level, offering a good arrangement for setting up
a natural convection loop. When the sun shines
and the windows between house and greenhouse
are open, warm air fows into the living room and
cool make-up air enters the greenhouse from the
cellar.
The principal element in the construction of the
greenhouse is 1 1 recycled window sashes, each
about 50 in. on a side. Three sashes form the ver
tical front and two rows of three the sloping roof;
there is one sash at the front of each of the end
walls. The sashes are supported by a simple frame
of two-by-fours that rests on a concrete footing.
Inch-thick styrofoam extends 24 in. into the ground
outside the footing. The end walls that are not
glass are plywood with styrofoam insulation on the
inside. Monsanto 602 stapled over the outside
forms the second glazing. One end wall has a 4
ft high door, which is the only entrance. Two 55
gallon drums flled with water add to the thermal
mass inside. Plastic stapled over the joint between
house and greenhouse mostly eliminates the infl
tration of cold air. Near the end of the green
house's first winter, we are still adding to it and
altering it.
The make-up air entering the greenhouse
through the cellar windows at frst came directly
from the cold cellar. Now we lead it from the cool
est part of the living room through a floor register
into a duct formed on the cellar overhead by box
ing in two of the foor joists. The duct leads to one
of the cellar windows and is connected to it by a
plastic skirt. This way the make-up air entering
the greenhouse is already somewhat warm.
If the windows between house and greenhouse
are opened when the greenhouse is cool, the con
vection loop runs backward; warm air fows from
the living room into the greenhouse and cold air
from the greenhouse wells up into the living room
via the cellar window, duct, and foor register: To
prevent this from happening we installed valves
in the windows between house and greenhouse
.
We tacked pieces of fishnet over the windows.
Sheets of very light plastic, like the kind in which
dry cleaning is returned, are fastened on the living
room side of the net in the living room windows
and on the greenhouse side of the net in the cellar
windows. When the greenhouse is hot, the plastic
is easily wafted away from the fshnet in both win
dows by air fowing in the directions we want it to
fow. When the greenhouse is cold and air wants
to go the wrong way, the plastic is blown up against
the fshnet, and the fow is stopped. This arrange
ment lets us open the windows between warm
house and cold greenhouse early in the morning
before we go to work with the assurance that the
house will only gain heat from the greenhouse, not
lose heat to it, no matter what the day's weather
turns out to he.
Articles about solar greenhouse designs gener
ally discuss a night-curtain last, if at all. I f the
greenhouse is a small one like ours, a night-curtain
is absolutely necessary. (Large greenhouses can get
by without one, because they have a large thermal
mass in proportion to the area of the glazing
through which heat comes and goes.) Designing
and making a good night-curtain is not easy. An
outside curtain is simple to ft, but it must with
stand wind and weather and so is necessarily ex
pensive. An inside curtain is hard to hold up into
place.
We opted for an inside curtain. It is held up
against the glazing by pieces of 1/2 in. electrical
conduit at greenhouse ends and middle bent to
follow the sloping roof and vertical front. The cur
tain itself is a so-called Roman curtain. It is made
of two layers of Bubbl-pak, a plastic material in
corporating cells of air. Made for packing fragile
articles for shipment, Bubbl-pak is not bad in
sulation. Light strips of wood run across and are
attached to the curtain at 1 ft intervals, and four
sets of screw eyes are twisted into the strips. Four
cords for accordioning the curtain run through
the screw eyes and raise the curtain when pulled.
There are two main spaces for growing things
in our greenhouse. Leafy vegetables can be grown
i n a ground bed along the front of the greenhouse.
Plants in pots or fats sit on boards spanning the
space between the two upright 55 gallon drums
at the greenhouse rear. (There are also a few plants
growing in the ground around the feet of the
drums.)
Measuring greenhouse performance is a diffcult
thing. At present we can only say that on a sunny
day we see and feel warm air coming from the
greenhouse into our living room, raising the tem
perature there. And though it has mainly been a
heater so far, we also have had things growing in
the greenhouse when outside all was frozen. An
alpine strawberry charmed us all winter with its
glossy green leaves, fawless white blossoms, and
red fruit.
So the greenhouse warms us a little and gives
us a few plants to eat and to please the eye. It is
a serene and toasty place to sit for a few minutes
on a winter noon. In all these ways it brings us
into a direct contact with our physical surround
ings and so, makes us feel more alive. The cost,
because we scrounged and recycled, and don't
reckon in our labor, is about $250.
We are weekend gardeners, so the weather is
always an interesting topic at our house. And, as
for most people who work all week, a good weather
weekend is a treat and often indicates what work
gets done. Now, however, we are more aware than
ever of the kind of day it is. And what are we
going to do about those nice old cedars that shade
our greenhouse for part of the day? They are our
trees but also supply some of the only shade our
close neighbors have in their tiny backyard. We
have also become thermometer buffs. How hot in
the greenhouse? What soil temperature? How
many degrees of heat did it add to the house?
Today, in mid-April it is 50 degrees outside; our
house is 70. No heat is on. We still have a long
way to go in our efforts to get off the oil habit,
but getting there is a lot of fun and a continuing
challenge. And the frst one out of bed still checks
out the day. Aaaah . . . another sunny one.
From the Ground Up
Chrtina Rawley and Ron Zweig
On our land we have planted two apple trees, two
mulberry trees, a black walnut, and a copper beach.
These and other deciduous trees will replace the
pitch pines we removed to create an opening i n
the forest for our new house. On the cleared
ground we have seeded buckwheat as the frst
cover crop and have started a vegetable garden
just to the east of the house. As the summer un
folds it will stand amidst a sea of buckwheat. From
the south, it appears to be sailing easterly, where
it is greeted by the sun over Deep Pond each morn
ing. The design, a modifed saltbox, sits unobtru
sively in its Cape Cod setting, facing south on Lily
Pond.
We had searched for a house within bicycling
distance of New Alchemy for nearly two years, but
were unable to fnd one that could be modifed for
passive solar heating without major and expensive
changes. Finally we chose to build from scratch.
5
The house incorporates a synthesis of old and
new concepts in both heating and cooling. Many
are untested so far since we have just been living
in it since early spring. The summer and winter
months ahead will test it. The climate control lies
in air convection through the house. There are
vents in the foor and walls and a minimum of
closed off areas.
The main convection heating loop incorporates
the entire air volume including the greenhouse
and basement. During the winter, air warmed in
the greenhouse will rise into the second foor living
area through air vents in the intervening wall.
Cooler air will drop to the basement through foor
vents on the north side of the frst and second
foors. A basement window in the lower level of
the greenhouse provides a channel for the coolest
air to circulate into the greenhouse for heating,
thereby completing the convective loop. This should
raise the temperature of the masonry, the cement
foundation and basement walls and floor as the
outside walls of the basement are fully insulated.
At night the vents to the greenhouse will be closed.
There will be solar-algae ponds in the greenhouse.
A wood stove back-up may be necessary on
colder winter nights. When it is in use, south foor
vents will be opened and the north ones closed.
A ceiling fan in the stairwell will circulate heat
through the house, minimizing stratifcation that
would create a second air fow loop. the direction
of the fan is reversible so that, during the summer,
it can force cooler air upward and warmer air out
upstairs open windows. So far the air fow pattern
works quite well. We'll know how well by winter.
It will depend largely on the effectiveness of the
wall and ceiling insulation and the window shades
we have yet to install.
We feel the house's real treasure is the green-
house. We will be able to raise some of our food
all year and apply many of the techniques we have
developed and tested at New Alchemy. the agri
culture/aquaculture will keep us in close contact
with living plants and animals. Our work with New
Alchemy's bioshelters has given us this more as
vistors than co-inhabitants. We anticipate that the
constant exposure to the micro-ecosystems in our
greenhouse will give us an ongoing relationship
with living things even in the starkest periods of
New England winters. We shall be living as co
inhabitants in the processes and as co-cartakers of
this dwelling and parcel of land.
Why Not a Solar
Greenhouse on the Second
Floor?
Barbara Chase
I first visited New Alchemy in the fall of 1 978. At
that time I was primarily interested in growing
better food. I had decided to eat only organically
grown food, having experienced six months of the
ill effects of poisoning of some kind-possibly from
grupper fsh, which is high on the food chain, or
from a cumulative effect from many poisons. Doc
tors could not determine the exact cause, since the
poison had left my bloodstream quickly and settled
in my nervous system. However, the helpless feel
ing and the ill effects were enough to make me
determined to avoid all potentially harmful
substances.
Ro Zw1
I was impressed with the accomplishments and
the environment I found at New Alchemy. In jan
uary 1 979 I became a volunteer. I worked with
Earl Barnhart on experiments in tree propagation
and with Hilde Maingay in the Six Pack solar
greenhouse.
My time there, so close to nature, especially en
joying the sun in the greenhouse on long, cold
winter days, was healing and inspiring, and gave
me new hope.
I began to think a lot about whether I could
incorporate such a greenhouse into my own house
and where. I have a steep hill at the back of my
house on the south side. This slope of the land
would make a frst-foor greenhouse diffcult, if
not impossible. But why not on the second foor,
where we have a walk-in closet off our bedroom
on the south side of the house? I thought it could
bear the weight because the house is framed in
steel, and I've had a water bed on the second foor
with no problem.
I called Solsearch, the architectural frm that
helped design the Ark. Ole Hammarland drew
some rough sketches for me with structural re
quirements and detail for materials. He gave me
fair assurance that the second foor could carry the
weight required.
I spoke to a neighbor in the business of remod
eling houses who was interested in the uniqueness
of the project. We agreed on a price, and much
to my surprise, within a week construction was
underway.
By mid to late April I was able to start seedlings
for my outdoor summer gardens, a joyful expe
rience that has increased with each new step to
ward completion of the greenhouse.
In the fall my husband built two garden beds
for my vegetables and put up a shelf for potted
plants. I began flling the beds with soil, compost,
and peat moss. I moved plants from the outside
garden to their new home for the winter.
To wake up in the morning to the sun shining
on green growing vegetables, fowers, and aromatic
herbs was a wonderful reward for the work almost
completed. I put small stone for drainage into zinc
pans, covering the wooden foor, and patio blocks
the color of red bricks for walking between the
garden beds. We put four solar-algae ponds in
place and flled them with water for heat collection
and storage.
In October 1 979 I went to work for David Engs
trom, assisting with the water chemistry and learn
ing about aquaculture. I wanted an understanding
of this in order to care for my fsh.
By January I had twenty-two tilapia occupying
two solar-algae ponds. I felt a sense of tranquillity
watching the fsh drift quietly or
.
swim exhuber
antly. The sunlight, especially the frst morning
rays, showed them off beautifully. The pond water
was fertilizer for my plants. The system evolved
into a balanced ecological cycle. My tranquillity
comes from the search for an ecological balance
and progress toward that end. All this life brought
into a home gives me a feeling of rebirth. My hap
piest days are spent working in my solar green
house. I am recording information that will soon
reveal how much food I'm growing. From what
I've learned this year, I will be able to produce
more next year.
Some of the energy I'm collecting is blown into
the room below the bedroom with a half-horse
power fan. It is used to conserve other forms of
energy-consuming heat, and is therefore turned
on at opportune times, so as not to waste electricity.
Collecting heat from my solar greenhouse is an
added beneft. I will soon tabulate statistics to show
how much fuel this supplementary heat conserves.
My solar greenhouse symbolizes the ability to
conserve nonrenewable energy resources. How
ever, using the same energy to grow food and for
heat is no symbol. My solar greenhouse is only my
first step in the use of soft technology. The ex
panded use of solar greenhouses and other soft
technology gives me hope in the larger scheme of
world affairs. Our environment can become healthy
without the need to use nuclear power and other
polluting energy sources, and I hope the need for
war over a limited supply of oil, or any essential
life-sustaining resource can be eliminated.
Many people have the potential for growing
some food all year round with the help of a passive
solar addition to an existing house or a passive
solar beginning for a new one. Once such a lifestyle
is initiated, I believe the joy will be incentive for
expansion.
The final benefit to me is a new opportunity for
learning. I fnd the opportunity for exploration of
nature intriguing and boundless, and the working
toward an ecological balance equally so.
Notes From a Professional
Rick Beck
Tanis Lane's greenhouse was designed and built
to meet requirements she set forth. The main pur
pose of the greenhouse was to provide heat for
the house, to allow plants to be grown year round,
and yet to be roomy enough to feel comfortable
and pleasant. Of course, it had to be as inexpensive
as possible.
The design and construction of an attached
bioshelter presents special problems not encoun
tered in normal residential construction. The
greenhouse designer must keep in mind that the
design characteristics that yield maximum net heat
gain are
_
opposed to
hose that maximize biological

production. Just as tmportant is the careful con
sideration of details. As in most other activities,
attention to detail makes the difference between
adequacy and excellence. In the case of a bio
shelter, it also determines the durability of the
structure. Presumably any building addition be
yond the most rudimentary should last as long as
the house to which it is attached. I should like to
relate these general problems to the design that
evolved for Tanis's site.
The design emphasized the following:
1. Glazing all the way to the house wall to allow
overhead light for plants.
2. Glazed end walls to allow maximum light in spring
and fall. Removable insulation panels remain in place
during winter to reduce heat loss.
3 Pit design to ft appropriate glazing angle to house
and landscape, and to provide headroom inside.
4 A vent on the west wall, a door on the east wall
and a continous ridge vent to provide adequat
ventilation.
The frst and second design characteristics are
somewhat opposed to those of the popular "sun
space" d:sign, but from my experience with green
houses, hght penetration is very important if plant
production is desired.
I researched the next set of problems, the con
structio

details and choice of materials, carefully.
The mam enemy of a well-used greenhouse is rot.
Clev
:
r
.
co
_
nstruction copes with water and high
hum11t

m
_
two ways. Flowing and standing water
from trngatton and condensation can be reduced
by s
_
loping all structural members and/or providing
dramage holes. Water and humidity also require
the use of corrosion and decay-resistant materials.
I
et these problems, and the problem of cost, by

usmg salvaged materials from commerical green
houses. These are materials designed and chosen
to meet industrial durability standards. Redwood,
cypress, galvanized iron, and glass are the main
materials, and their worth is proven. They are
milled to shed water, are of the fnest grade, and
can be reconstructed as energy efficient structures.
Wood over ffty years old in excellent condition
can still be found. With a little elbow grease, the
wood and related hardware can be cleaned and
repainted to be as serviceable as new materials in
both appearance and structural integrity.
Such framing materials are easily adapted to
any systems of double glazing, using combina

tions of glass, fberglass, plastic, or insulated glass.
I n Tanis's greenhouse the outer glazing is recycled
glass in the traditional lapped style (the upper pane
of glass overlapping slightly the pane beneath it,
like shingles). Inside we used a plastic film, which
we are replacing with a second layer of glass, be
cause the plastic has been destroyed several times
by the household dog. Any of the inexpensive plas
tic flms are subject to puncturing.
Commercial greenhouses are available for sal
vaging near most urban areas. They were designed
for the age of cheap fossil fuels, and are not prof
itable in light of increased energy costs. When a
commercial grower goes out of business, his green
house becomes a liability, and he will usually be
very happy to relinquish it free, or at a very small
price. Recycling then, seems sound, ethically and
financially, particularly if redwood or cypress are
:
a
ted. From an
_
ecological standpoint it is hardly
JUStifiable to contmue cutting redwoods, let alone
cy
p
ress, for greenhouse construction, as they are
bemg cut far faster than they are being replaced.
Cypress management is not practiced because the
trees grow so slowly as to be unprofitable.
We Threw Caution to the
Sun
Nancy jack Todd and john Todd
The house we have lived in for over ten years
began its life as a late sixties ticky-tacky. It was
heated by natural gas, and the insulation was close
to nonexistent. It was defnitely not the sort of
house that lent credibility to our advocacy of the
use of renewable sources of energy. Yet by some
odds unlikely in so much of modern housing, our
house was pretty. Its lines are good. It is on an
acre and a half of land that slopes down to a pond.
Some of the trees are quite large for the Cape. We
have oaks and maples and locust and wild cherry,
sumac, a poplar, and some willow. In the spring
a dogwood hangs poetically over the pond. We
love it here. It is where our children have grown
and it is home.
Two years ago, however, we felt ourselves
prompted by motivations for change more press
ing than well-intentioned environmental ones. At
that time the house had a deck on the east side.
The door from the deck, which we always referred
12
9
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Figure 1 .
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IJO THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
to more familiarly as the porch, led into the kitchen
and was the entrance to the house that everyone
used. The porch was a wonderful place for early
morning cups of coffee and sleepy conversations,
and the railings made serviceable clotheslines. But
slowly it was beginning to disintegrate. By Christ
mas of 1 978 there were several planks loose or
missing, and a shaky step. I was worried that my
mother might trip during her Christmas visit.
The house posed another problem, this one a
source of some friction. It was very small for a
family of fve, particularly when three of the fve
persisted in getting larger. One Sunday, as we were
setting out on a late afternoon walk, while I was
waiting for John to fnish puttering with the goats,
I paced about the porch. Then, as we headed to
ward the beach, I burst out . . . "What if we
. . . " And the ideas tumbled out of both of us
. . . "retroft the whole house, then tear down the
porch, replace it with a living room and a room
above it for Jonathan. And in front of it . . . a
greenhouse, solar heating, plants, vegetables, fsh
tanks, our own bioshelter."
We asked a lot of the project when we decided
to retroft our existing house to use less heating
fuel and to add a new solar addition. We wanted
the sun to do most of the work of heating not just
the new addition, but the whole house as well. A
wood stove was to provide the only backup except
in extreme weather, when our old furnace would
act as a standby. Another condition was that the
electrical requirements for heat circulation and
storage be minimal, say equivalent to two or three
lightbulbs. We also wanted a fsh farm as part of
the deal, and last but not least, an interior that
would be exciting for a lifetime. Architect Malcolm
Wells came through with a solar design to match
our heating and living goal and solar engineers
Joe Seale and John Wolfe fgured out how to keep
electricity consumption to a minimum. We de
signed into the greenhouse area a household-scale
solar fsh farm for raising tilapia, catfsh, trout,
and eventually oysters in sea water.
The workings of the house are really quite sim
ple. The fsh farm, situated against the north wall
of the partially submerged greenhouse, is made
up of 10 "organ-pipe" translucent fberglass tubes
8 ft high by 1 8 in. in diameter (see Figure 1 ) , a
variation in shape on the traditional New Alchemy
solar-algae ponds. They serve double duty as fsh
culture units and as primary heat-storage com
ponents. The tubes effciently absorb solar energy
during the day and release heat at night, warming
the greenhouse and adding heat to the house as
well. The other heat-storage component is the
basement. Malcolm Wells recommended that it be
clad on the outside with 4 in.
f styrofoam and
stuccoed. Now the interior basement walls and the
contents of the basement, including furniture,
boat, frewood, tools, and so forth, store heat blown
in from the greenhouse.
The solar heating is primarily passive as the de
sign called for a lot of thermopane tempered glass
on the southern exposure (see Figure 2, Figure 3,
and Figure 1). This effectively captures light and
heat. Once trapped, the heat follows two basic
routes: it is either stored in the fsh tanks or is
drawn by a 36 in. diameter fan powered by a 16
horsepower motor down from the apex of the
greenhouse into the basement. Here it circulates
the full length of the house before being recycled
back into the base of the greenhouse. (See Figure
2 for air flow patterns through the house.)
Heat distribution to the living areas of the house
is both active and passive. Air vents in each of the
rooms and stairwells permit a passive upward flow
of warm air from the basement. A more even and
rapid distribution of air can be accomplished by
activating the old blower system from the hot-air
furnace. A ceiling fan in the living room allows us
to circulate warmed air from the wood stove.
In the summer the glass on the southern side
acts as an air accelerator, sucking cool outside air
in, through the house, and up the stairs to exit via
the north windows. The house is now much cooler
in the summer. The solar heating cycles have
worked well so far. We do not yet know if we will
have to turn the old furnace on during extreme
conditions in the dead of winter. Since the house
was redesigned to be primarily, although not ex
clusively, heated by solar heat and a single wood
stove, we would not see occasional use of the fur
nace in the future as a setback. A less-obvious rea
son why the house has performed as well as it has
is the internal insulated shutter system created by
Terry Eisen and Greg Wozena. The shutters placed
on all of the vertical windows are elegant, easy to
operate, and very saving in heating needs.
Malcolm Well's drawings (Figures 1 and 2) il
lustrate how we attempted to refne traditional
Cape Cod architecture to solar needs. We think
the synthesis and use of traditional roof angles
works if one is lucky enough to live in a south
facing house as we are.
The project is by no means over. Future fantasies
include a "zome-works"-a Steve Baer solar hot
water collector installed in the upper part of the
greenhouse interior. The collector would be con
nected to a hot tub in the greenhouse. The tub in
turn would help keep a dancer's muscles (Nancy's)
supple in winter, and the fsh would like the
warmed water pumped into their tanks after the
people were through. It's a case of hedonistic clo
sure of solar cycles. We contemplate more.
IJI
Now, as I write on the autumnal equinox, the
frst day of the fall of 1 980, it is gusty and warm.
It's hard to feel convinced that soon every evening
we shall be closing the shutters that have . stood
open all summer. It seems very far away right now.
But even I who crave warmth constantly can think
even a bit smugly as I see the first traces of yellow
leaves, that the green in our greenhouse will re-
main, that the geraniums and lettuce and parsley,
the bamboo and fg and orange will last even as
the green outside fades and is gone. The smell of
moist earth too will stay as the ground freezes.
And one day we'll look out at the frst snowfall,
but we'll see it through a screen of plants and
flowers.
IJ2 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
-.
. . " '
I,
i
.
It is perhaps self-evident in this automobile- and
petroleum-dominated age that energy sources and
their uses shape culture and settlement patters.
What is Jess evident, but criti cal for the future, is
the potential of renewable sources of energy to
provide the foundation for new and more-equitable
societies.
In the solar village, ecosystems will provide many
of the bases for support. Climate will be modified
and improved by them and market food economies
will be integral to the overall design. Wastes will be
treated in integrated heat-storage and nutrient-cy
cling systems.
E
ven the landscapes will function
to support the whole. Villages will be like earth
ships.
The architecture of the future will be different in
a number of fundamental ways. Bioshelters will be
important. They will function as solar workhorses,
heating and cooling, producing foods, and treating
and recycling wastes. Unique new building mate
rials will substitute for contemporary furaces, air
conditioners, fans, and motors. Energy needs will
drop. Further, ecology will redefine solar and village
architecture. It will become more indigenous and
diverse. The very meaning of architecture will
deepen. The following introduces this new archi
tectural landscape.
The bioshelter is not a "monocrop" architecture.
It is a state of mind and a way of rethinking how
human communities can be sustained.
Bioshelters can be (1) alleys, (2) covered solar
ditches, (3) wells with clear membranes, (4) green
houses, (5) glassed roofs, (6) streets. (7) intercon
nected buildings, (B) domes, (9) glass-roofed barges,
( 1 0) ocean arks, ( 1 1) translucent tents, and ( 12)
landscape microcosms. Bioshelters are the work
horses of a solar era.
N.J. T.
'
.
.
.
.
.........
.
..... .
.........
..
...
'
Paul Sun
The VILLAGE as S OLAR
ECOLOGY
Prologue
Nancy jack Todd
I n early August of 1 978, three months before her
death, John Todd and I spent several days at a
conference with Margaret Mead. She was a staunch
supporter of the work of New Alchemy and was
anxious to see its implications extended to touch
the lives of greater numbers of people. What she
said in effect was: You've created and developed
the bioshelter. It's a good idea and it works. But
most of the people in the world will never be able
to afford private houses. You must start to think
in terms of villages and neighborhoods, and of
how the bioshelter fts there.
Such a legacy from a woman.
We could not, of course, nor would we have
refused. And so in April the following year, we
convened a conference entitled The Village As
Solar Ecology: A Generic Design Conference.
Calling the con
.
ference, even funding it, proved
to be straight-forward in comparison with our un
derlying assignment from Dr. Mead: defning and
articulating a vision of the solar village, and sub
sequently evolving from the vision a communicable
and tangible epistemology. That our task was a
complex one was clear from the beginning, as we
tried to decide who should attend. That we needed
solar designers and architects was obvious, but we
felt it equally important to hear from anthropol
ogists and sociologists. To lengthen and deepen
our perspective we included as well a cultural his
torian, social activists, and artists. As a group, New
Alchemists brought biological, agricultural, aqua
cultural, and conceptual skills for ecological design.
With this assemblage we felt that we had some of
the pieces of the puzzle in hand, but as many more
were missing. We knew that well beyond our reach,
in the accumulated wealth of human experience,
lay great repositories of wisdom that we could only
intuit and try to recover. To be haunted by a dream
of union, of Oneness, is not uncommon. One
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 IJS
friend of mine once told me that she often had
a feeling of almost remembering a time just beyond
memory, when we understood better our destiny,
our place in the cosmos. More recently I heard a
woman of the Wampanoag tribe say to a group of
women, talking to us as representatives of our cul
ture, "We don't understand you. We don't under
stand what your instructions are, how you have
been taught to live. A seed, a fower, unfolds ac
cording to the instructions it has been given. We
don't understand yours."
I guess we have forgotten.
To help us to remember, to reinvent and re
create a sense of the human place in the cosmos,
we realized that as important to the conference as
physical design was a sense of the sacred. As one
of the participants, Keith Critchow, put it, "The
necessity of the sacred attitude is one of remem
bering: remembering the larger context of one's
existence, one's duties to one's environment and
to the invisible principles that regenerate life con
stantly. What is sacred?" As another one of the
participants, Sim Van der Ryn, put it, "What isn't?"
Because the question is such a
.
diffcult one for
us, formed as we have been by modern secular
society, we have given it considerable space in the
pages that follow. A sense of the sacred is the
bedrock, however buried or amorphous, on which
we build.
The pieces are arranged, somewhat arbitrarily,
under the headings "Conceptualizing the Village,"
"Energy and Architecture," "Ecological Cycles,"
"Early Manifestations," and "A Farm in the Year
2030." We began with William Irwin Thompson
because his essay is at once a defnition of the
problem and an overview from a much broader
scanning of time and culture. The piece by Keith
Critchlow is an attempt to convey his very rich
understanding of how the sacred has been and can
be the underlying and energizing force for a cul
ture. In describing the tradition of Feng-Shui in
China, Paul Sun makes more tangible the princi
ples that Keith discusses.
With Mary Catherine Bateson's observations of
"A Single Shared World," contemplating the vil
lage as a place where people actually live, and
Hunter Lovins's hard question, what life there will
be like, the difficult journey from the abstract l
the hypothetical to the concrete is begun. John
Todd, looking at a specifc area of land in southern
Colorado, formulates guidelines for the questions
that must be asked, questions of land ownership
and tenure, energy, water rights and management,
land and ecosystems, agriculture and forestry, and
the incorporation of villages into the landscape as
a whole. J. Baldwin describes a hypothetical dome,
a kind of second-generation bioshelter. From Col
leen Armstrong, Susan Ervin, Hunter Sheldon,
and Ron Zweig come considerations for the suste
nance, in the broadest sense, of the village. Then
Steve Serfting, using the example of his own re
search with Solar Aquafarms, suggests an ecolog
ical method for village waste treatment. To all of
the above Malcolm Wells adds comments, not ex
clusively from underground.
Toward the end of the conference, partly for
relief after so much talk and partly to exercise our
evolving principles, we set to work on creating the
designs for three projects that are and were then
in various stages of being actualized. Some sketches
and designs are included.
The series of accumulated fantasies, rules, cau
tions, and designs concludes with an article by Wes
Jackson from the imaginary vantage point of the
year 2030. It seems comforting because it implies
that we have-we must have-avoided nuclear hol
ocaust, ecological disaster, and World War III to
be living there among the prairie grasses of Kansas
commenting and occasionally laughing at the fol
lies of the present, long past.
Does such a conference, and the many like it,
have meaning beyond that gleaned by the various
participants? Perhaps through the slow integration
of knowledge that is engendered and with subse
quent further synthesis from fields as disparate as
ecology, quantum physics, astronomy, religion,
holography, anthropology, the contemplation of
sacred art, architecture, geometry, and the study
of Gaia, certain harmonies are being heard. Per
haps our sense of the world, rather than being
cacophonous and diffuse with the claims of sci
e-ntists and fundamentalists, economists and envi
ronmentalists, communists and capitalists, begins,
at least intuitively, to make sense, to ring true.
Perhaps a cosmology that is somewhere in Dream
Time at once beyond memory and just out of reach
uf present knowledge yet still somehow alive within
us is unfolding. Morphogenesis.
1
3
The Village as Solar
Ecology
John Todd
This series of articles is an early attempt to prepare
for a transition to renewable-energy-based socie
ties. The reader is cautioned that the articles are
not so much technical documents as introductions
to some of the areas of knowledge that will permit
a shift to a genuine solar age. What follows is not
engineering detailing but a new and potentially
significant way of approaching the age-old need
to sustain human cultures in their diverse forms.
The first cities were built a long time ago. J er
icho, begun in 8350 BC was walled and occupied
ten acres. Catal Hi.iyik in Anatolia (Turkey) was
constructed in 6250 BC and spanned thirty-two
unfortifed acres. Both had many attributes we
could associate with a contemporary town. The
cities would feel familiar. Now for perhaps the frst
time since the appearance of cities almost ten thou
sand years ago, human knowledge has reached a
point where it is possible and timely to rethink the
nature of human settlements.
Based on a current revolution in science we have
a
n
ewly acquired freedom to redesign the way in
which communities are sustained. A unifed body
of knowledge is being formed that will allow mod
ern societies to move from a petroleum era to a
solar age. The nature of living systems is the unify
ing principle of this knowledge. Ecology is provid
ing an intellectual framework that can link the
polymer physics of the materials scientist to the
electronic information of the computer specialist,
to structural forms of the architect, to the knowl
edge of experts in diverse energy systems, food
culture, and waste recycling, and ultimately to the
special information of the sociologist, anthropol
ogist, and artist, who speak for the human condition.
This new science is bound less to the metaphor
of the machine than to the image of the forest or
the meadow. We are shifting from an age domi
nated by mechanics to one concerned with biology.
It is my contention that the shift in perception will
allow us to undertake a beautiful and, as yet
scarcely dreamed of, turn in the course of human
history.
The practical as well as the good news implicit
in the revolution in science is that it can truly
create a solar age. Through humanly derived eco
logical and technical pathways the energy of the
I
JJ
sun can be directed to sustain human settlements
as magnifcent as the world has known. Sun and
solar derivatives, the wind and biofuels exclusively
can power, heat, and cool all manner of villages
and towns if structured according to an ecological
blueprint of the kind that underlies a forest or a
pond. Within a village or town designed to an eco
logical blueprint, wastes generated by people and
by microindustry are channeled into nutrient cycles
that in turn trigger such biological cycles as diverse
food production, including aquaculture and food
forestry. Gas for fuels can be produced as a by
product. Further connections are possible. Solar
algae ponds at New Alchemy, for example, have
several functions: trapping solar heat, producing
fsh, and irrigating and fertilizing adjacent gar
dens. And that is not all. We are currently fnding
out if they can become methane-producing gas
plants as well.
I make this point to illustrate how ecology can
be a model for designers and to show that mate
rials, ecosystems, and electronics together have a
major role to play. Old divisions and specializations
will break down in the process. Housing, manu
facturing, educational facilities, market and gov
ernment buildings may one day be connected to
living elements and with each other in ways we are
beginning to perceive for the frst time.
It is rapidly becoming apparent that enough is
already known to build solar-based settlements. It
is further becoming clear in a period of increasing
uncertainty about the costs and availability of pe
troleum, that solar economics, especially within the
ecological framework, makes good sense.
These essays span a range of disciplines from
the ancient siting techniques of the Chinese to ad
vanced concepts in architecture and biology. A syn
thesis of this collective wisdom begins to come to
gether in concrete forms, in the Cathedral,
bioshelter, in a hypothetical village on the coast of
Maine, in an agricultural village in the southwest,
and in a California village of the sun.
As a document that is only a starting point. The
"Village As Solar Ecology" will take many concep
tual forms. Some will be retrofts of existing set
tlements and others will be new towns. If they
combine practicality and self-reliance with pow
erful new notions of earth stewardship, they can
not fail to capture the popular imagination.
By the year 2000, sooner perhaps, our settle
ments will have begun to refect the beginnings of
a true solar age.
1
3
CONCEPTUALIZING the
VILLAGE
The Need for Villages
Wiliam Irin Thompson
I grew up in Los Angeles. Recently I had the mis
fortune to have to return there. As it turned out,
the day of my visit was richly endowed with the
worst smog in a quarter of a century. In addition,
the foothills and mountains encircling the city were
ablaze with forest fres. The frst fres were natural,
but they soon inspired arsonists to work in har
mony with nature. As I few over the city toward
the airport, I remembered Nathaniel West's apoc
alyptic novel 'he Day of the Locust, in which the
hero is obsessed with creating a painting called
"The Burning of Los Angeles."
The ride on the freeway from the airport was
equally unsettling. I sat in a fve-mile-long traffc
jam of cars, each with a single driver and each
with its motor idling gently into the receptive air,
and as I gazed out across the valley through the
grayish-brown, thick flannel sky, I listened to the
reports on the car radio of the sick and the elderly
being rushed to the hospitals for oxygen. Looking
at the freeway and wondering how anybody could
be rushed anywhere, I remembered the excellent
Pacifc Electric mass transit system that Los Angeles
had in the forties and early ffties, but, through
the conniving of General Motors with the city fa
thers, had torn down to replace it with the more
"modern" freeway system. Now there is talk of
trying to rebuild the railway, but talk is cheap and
capital is scarce. The dollar is declining, the inter
national monetary system is disintegrating, and all
our social systems are coming due for reconstruc
tion at the same time: highways, railroads, hospi
tals, and ACBMs. People talk of rebuilding, but
it is clear that we are entering a period of social
and economic stagnation. The boom mentality that
enabled the L.A. boosters to tear down the Pacifc
Electric railway system and build the freeways in
the ffties cannot be conjured up again in the
eighties.
People have been complaining about the smog
in L.A. for thirty years, but when it comes down
to a choice between the industrial values of de
velopment and high employment and the ecolog-
ical values of conservation and public health, peo
ple in our society choose to buy more cars and
build more freeways with their suburban appen
dages. As I sat in the car going nowhere on a
freeway in L.A., I thought to myself: "And people
think that Lindisfarne is a utopian community!
This is the real utopian fantasy of freedom in an
imagined consumer's paradise. Los Angeles is a
historical mistake."
But if Los Angeles is the true nowhere city,
where do we go from here, when the entire post
war world, from Long Island to Rio to Sydney to
Tehran to Jeddah, has tried to imitate Los Angeles.
The answer is that we must turn on the historical
spiral and approach the preindustrial village from
the higher cultural level of postindustrial cyber
netics and ecology.1 But to tell a city planner that
he should start thinking about villages is like telling
a naval architect of supertankers that he should
start thinking about sailboats.
2
It is a common cry
among social activists that since so many people
live in cities, all of our thinking and planning
should be devoted to cities. Even to think about
the village is for them an exercise in romanticism
and escapism. The imperialism of this mentality
is part of the problem, not the solution: But even
beyond its arrogance, it is also ignorant. Two bil
lion people, or roughly half the earth's population,
live in villages.3
Even if one thinks that cities are the only cultural
forms that matter, one needs to remember that
historically cities, as Jane Jacobs has shown,4 have
often spun off their innovations to the countryside,
where the landscape was more open to novel cre
ations. The engineers may have gathered in eight
eenth-century London, but they spun off their In
dustrial Revolution to Manchester and Birmingham.
It is, therefore, part of the process of civilization
for an urban intelligentsia to come together from
New York, Boston, or San Francisco, but to spin
off their metaindustrial villages from Manhattan
to Crestone, Colorado, or coastal Maine.
Urbanization, nationalism, and industrialization
have been the major forces that have shaped the
modern world, but now that industrial world-sys
tem of warring nation-states is changing. Ther
monuclear warfare in its mental form as an infor
mational construct is eroding the traditional
structure of the nineteenth-century railroad-con
solidated nation-state. Industrialization is altering
the global atmosphere and generating climatic
changes that threaten the agricultural base of a
' See William Irwin Thompson. 1978. The meta-industrial village.
In Darkness and Scattered Light. N.Y.: Doubleday-Anchor, pp. 57-103.
'
See John Todd, '979 Ocean arks. Co-Evolution Quarterly 23:46.
'1979. Village economics. The Economi st. p. 1 17.
jane Jacobs, 1970. The Economy ofCities. N.Y.: Vintage.
postindustrial society like ours in which two per
cent feed the ninety-eight percent involved in the
production of goods and service. And urbanization
is straining the infrastructures of the vast megal
opoloi that sprang up in the era of cheap fossil
fuel. Cheap oil and gas allowed us to turn farmland
into shopping malls and parking lots, and replace
small nucleated towns with highway strips of gas
stations and fast-food take-out joints. Now as the
fuel crisis fuels the food crisis and both stimulate
the currency crisis, we face a situation in which the
postwar American way of life is simply not viable.
In 1 8oo, more than ninety percent of the Amer
ican population lived in rural areas; even as late
as 1 8go, two-thirds of the American population
lived in the countryside. By 1950, two-thirds of the
population lived in cities.5 Well, if a social move
ment can go that fast in one direction in an age
of printed communication, it can move even faster
in the other direction in an age of electronic com
munication. In point of fact, there is already evi
dence that the movement has begun to reverse and
that people are moving out of the cities, not to the
suburbs, but to rural areas.6 But if we are not
careful, this dispersal of the population could sim
ply become the spreading of an oil slick of thin
urban scum from Miami to Los Angeles. The
trailer camps of Orlando, Florida, and El Monte,
California, will move across the country to meet
one another in the Ozarks. Clearly, we have to
spend some time intuiting and thinking, not simply
about cities and planned suburbs like Columbia,
Maryland, but about villages.
Expressed in the move from an international,
postindustrial city to a planetary, metaindustrial
village is a shift from one world-system to another.
It is a shift from consumer to contemplative values,
a shift from an industrial mentality of the domi
nation of nature and the mass production of cul
ture to an ecological mentality of symbiosis, inte
gration of the intuitive with the intellectual, and
unique regional approaches to global processes. I t
i s a shift from the coal-and-oil supported capital
intensive economies of the scale of the old factory
systems of Detroit and Manchester to ecologically
sound workshop-production for regional markets.
Such an approach is already being pioneered by
the multinational Phillips Company and its Utrecht
Pilot Plant.
Nineteenth-century physics and technology cre
ated a way of seeing nature that infuenced the
way of organizing society, but now ecology is
changing the way we see natural processes, and
'See George Cabot Lodge. 1976. The New American Ideology. N.Y.:
Knopf, p. 125.
61 979 Back to the Land. The Economi st:49.
therefore it will infuence the way we will organize
society in the transition from one world-system to
another. In the union of ecology and microelec
tronics we are beginning to re-vision the relation
ship of culture to nature. As the world restructures
itself into a planetary culture, the nation-state will
destructure itself into more viable areas of regional
identity; concomitant with this process is a de
structuring of the megalopolis. In the rise of the
ecological and electronic village, we will not see the
disappearance of the city; rather we will see an
intensification and miniaturization of the city. The
highly civilized city, like Ficino's Florence or Goethe's
Weimar, does not have to be a megalopolis. In the
relation of village to city, America could follow the
pattern of Switzerland, where rural areas, villages,
and highly cultured cities like Zurich or Basel
coexist.
The example of Switzerland is instructive for
America in other ways. The valleys in Switzerland
have been cultivated for thousands of years. Closed
in by the mountains, the Swiss could not develop
the pioneer mentality to exploit nature and then
move on. We, however, created the Dust Bowl and
then moved on to California, and now that Cali
fornia is fast becoming destroyed, the leaders of
the aerospace companies of the West are saying
that we are meant to exhaust the earth's resources
and then move on to artifcial colonies in space.
In the hucksterism of this industrial mentality the
earth is simply another piece of Kleenex: use once
and throw away. The proponents of unlimited in
dustrialization cannot accept the limits of the bio-
Ana.ural
Foreslry
&
Market Gard
Ourkind
1
Keith Critchlow
Whai is the sacred? The simple answer is, What
isn't? But we can defne it if we wish. The sacred
is that which is essential to our existence.
'A word that emerged during the conference. It means the totality
of the human family: ideal and actual.
sphere as the Swiss accepted the limits of the
mountains. But as we move into the eighties, it
seems clear that the boom mentality of the sixties
is not in touch with our historical condition.
America is being forced to change and to think
in new ways. We are like a succession-forest culture
that is changing into a climax-forest culture. The
waves of rapid development are over, and a new,
richly diversified ecology is being called forth.
Once again, Switzerland can teach America a great
deal about how a country can be a federation of
decentralized cantons, how a nation can have many
languages side by side, and how a rich agricultural
tradition can coexist with highly complex precision
industries. Perhaps now that Quebec is moving in
an independent direction and Spanish is becoming
the language of tens of millions in the United
States, we are already well into a new and rich
cultural transformation.
As the monolithic mentality disappears from
nationalism, the monocrop mentality will disap
pear from agriculture, and the monolithic Los
Angeles will disappear from urbanization. The Los
Angelization of the planet cannot take the place,
for in the greenhouse effect nature has her own
negative feedback mechanisms for shutting down
the furnace of industrial civilization. If we do not
re-vision the relationship of culture to nature
through a new alchemy, then the villages of the
future will not be planetary, metaindustrial, and
electronic; they will be provincial, preindustrial,
and sputtering with the dwindling light of a grow
ing Dark Age.
, I I
I t ' ' '
: '
' , , .
Essential to our existence means not only the
physical supports of our existence but the things
that are simultaneously essential to our intelligence
and being, in brief: right-livelihood. Ghandi ex
presses it succinctly: "There is always enough for
our needs and never enough for our greeds." This
is the very defnition of greed-more energy out
than the system can stand. Ultimately the only
possible "proft" is one of attitude-a metaphysical
proft of well-being and understanding. All else is
vanity, as some would say. The universal law seems
to be that a workman be worth his hire; there are
correct returns for effort. But "profit" is the spir
itual reward of attentiveness, acknowledgment,
and the wisdom of knowing that everything is a
rte de passage. Each step is a footfall of the way.
Our feet "handle" the earth as our hands "han
dle" the air, water, green life, and animals. Our
"contact" is our awareness and sensitivity-our in
trinsic choice. Caring is the basis of all good
relationships.
The desecrated could now be defned as that
taken which was not correctly availahle-more en
ergy out than the system could stand. Thus it is
the breakdown of the system, eutrophy, the di
abolism of greed that is based on the part feeding
itself in rejection of the whole, the part refusing
to acknowledge the whole of which it is not
.
only
inevitably a part but without which it cannot exist.
As Philip Deere said at the conference, "You can
not destroy ourkind without destroying nature,
and you cannot destroy nature without destroying
the Creator." The conclusion is crystal clear; it is
only a form of madness when a part even contem
plates doing without the whole of which it is a part.
So what is our frst move back from the periph
ery to the heart of the matter? The first move back
from the desecrated to a sacred space?
The frst move is the demarcation of our inten
tion for that space. The crossing of the threshold
in our intentions is in our hearts and minds and
in our bodily contact when we set first foot on any
intended site. Paul Sun reminded us so often of
the door or entrance that was a well proportioned
and crafted symbol. We enter a new space, both
physically, socially, intellectually, and spiritually
when we pass through the doorway. 0Qr attention
to that passage is our responsibility.
Our solar villages express our intention to move
from the "energy greed" context of "modern in
dustrial culture" into a new relationship between
ourselves and our planetary homes. This new or
der will be based on a mutual dependence or re
ciprocal maintance in accordance with cosmic rather
than merely human justice.
Within our intended space we aim to express a
sanity of wholeness that is the mark of the natural
world. Interdependent domains based on a dy
namic balance will be our wisdom, our cosmology.
Because what else is wisdom or cosmology but a
balanced whole, just as a balanced mind is sanity,
and a balanced body is health. The sacrifce of the
part to the whole will be in the original sense of
the offering of the part to the whole-from within.
There will have to be an unfolding of signifcance
between the domains and parts that is perpetually
regenerative, both symbolizing the ultimate regen
erative principle of the sun and the regenerative
principle of the solar village as a solution to post
(massive) industrial Western culture.
We must replace the attention on energy with
attention on light (the sun) and matter, or better,
what matters-Mother Earth. After all we can only
see by the light of the sun, directly or indirectly,
i n every sense of the meaning of the word. And
when all matters are put together we must arrive
at the profound significance of the immanence of
our planetary condition and our mother, the Earth.
To leave a place in the center of our village as
temnos or a sacred common ground, would be an
ideal symbol and practical way of insuring a central
remembrance or recollectivity.
A communal sacrifice in the offering sense, a
giving thanks for the bounty of nature and our
being, this central "village green" would function
in the same sense as common land in the English
tradition, which ensures that land is set aside for
any contingencies in the community. Should, for
instance, economic diffculties befall any member,
the common green was a refuge, a resource, a
sanctuary in all senses. This central space would
also be a refuge for the whole community, as it
would represent a way in which we could raise
ourselves from the mechanistic model of eating,
sleeping, procreating, and working; it would be a
place set aside for contemplating the mystery of
existence and for being thankful for one's for
tunes-whatever. The keeping of the green would
be a communal responsibility and would express
communal joy.
All conditions of existence have to become sacred:
Space: giving existence location, inner and outer.
Time: giving it duration and timelessness.
Form: giving it recognizability, a whereness, and
orientation.
Number: giving it accountability of people, things,
and relationships.
Substance: giving it measurability, concretely and
understandably.
Sacredness can be found at the center of all the
conditions of existence, as sacredness is the invis
ible heart of any matter.
Ien_-hu: An Ancient
Theory of Village Siting
Paul Sun (Sun Peng-Cheng)
Feng-shui, literally "winds and waters," is also known
known by the more poetic name of kanyu, "the
canopy of heaven and the chariot of earth." It
cvOvcU Ovc| ceflluries, in China as a set of seem
ingly superstitious principles governing the loca
tion and orientation of the residences of people
both living and dead. In its broader sense, it is the
art of cooperating and harmonizing with nature
so that nature will shower wealth, health, and hap
piness on the inhabitants and their descendants in
a given dwelling. The violation of these principles,
it was believed, would bring ill fortune to individ
uals and families. As we will see, there is a rational
scientifc basis to the principles of feng-shui.
To understand why an early form of environ
mental science should be called feng-shui, winds
and waters, one has only to ponder the over
whelming importance of these elemental forces in
early China, or indeed in any ancient culture. The
winds and waters had unlimited power to affect
human life, and people felt helpless before such
apparently capricious manifestations of nature's
might. As a result, the ancient saying was true:
"He who controls the water governs the empire."
The cold northerly winds were a lethal threat to
the people of North China, while southerly winds
accompanied by rain could cause disastrous flood
ing in South China. Protection from winds, water
management, and food control were the very key
to a better life for the people of China. Hence, the
frst priority in providing a comfortable dwelling
and a happy homelife was to choose a house site
that would be relatively free from natural disasters.
According to feng-shui, therefore, the basic aus
picious home site was a place surrounded by a
horsehoe-shaped barrier of mountains to the north,
with fresh water easily accessible, but no raging
river near. In this and other practical examples,
we see feng-shui as a conceptual system for under
standing the physical environment and a method
for selecting sites that will be harmonious with it.
In Western literature, we sometimes fnd the
practice of feng-shui translated as "geomancy," a
term that is quite misleading. According to the
Oxford English Dictionary, geomancy means the "art
of divination by means of signs derived from the
earth, as by the fgure assumed by a handful of
earth thrown down some surface . . . Hence,
usually, divination by means of lines or fgures Figure 1 .
Figure 2.
14
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EVl L~The house situated at the turning point of
a river is in jeopardy when the water erodes the bank.
formed by jotting down on paper a number of
dots at random." Clearly, the Chinese practice of
feng-shui has nothing to do with geomancy as de
fined by this dictionary. Steven J. Bennett wrote
in his article "Chinese Topographical Thinking,"
that he considered feng-shui to be a systematic the
ory. A case in point is the topographical science
of "siting," used to discover the fow of energy
through the earth so that residences of the living
and the dead can be placed in areas that have
favorable energy conditions. A conceptual analysis
of classical Chinese siting texts reveals that siting
always was a rational activity, attempting to struc
ture reality through a theoretical quasi-religious
framework. In short, feng-shui was a nascent sci
ence, explaining hitherto phenomena on a level
that could be understood by even the most super
stitious country dweller. To gain popular accept
ance and respect, it cloaked common sense and
scientific truth with the awesome authority of mys
tic revelation.
Feng-shui originated from the Dzang Jing, the
Bural Book, which concerns itself with the selection
of burial sites and the orientation of graves. Ac
cording to one source, the Dzang Jing dated back
to the ancient Zhou Dynasty (722-480 sc), but
became most popular during the Sung Dynasty
(g6o-1 1 26 AD). Because of traditional emphasis on
flial piety (honoring one's parents), proper burial
was an important concern of heirs and de
scendants. During the Yuan ( 1 260-1368 AD) and
Ming Dynasties ( 1 368-1 644 AD) , feng-shui forished
in architecture, and its infuence is especially dis
cernible in the design of the palaces and temples
of Beijing. During the Qing Dynasty ( 1 644-1 9 1 1
AD), feng-shui was widely used, both to establish
orientation and to select propitious dates for such
activities as moving into a new house. At present,
feng-shui is still being practiced, though it has be
come an honored tradition rather than an en
tranched superstition. What may once have been
followed in fear is now respected in reverence to
a rich and ancient culture .
The principles of feng-shui provide a scheme for
understanding land forms, as in the theory of the
five basic elements, wu-xing. According to this the
ory, the rough shape of everything in nature falls
into the category of metal, wood, water, fre, or
earth. For example, in Figure 1 , we see the clas
sifcation of shapes of mountains and waters. When
objects in nature are classified and placed in com
bination they present evil or good fortune. From
this juxtaposition, good sites for building are found,
because according to the theory of fve elements,
the fve interacting forces either produce one an
other or destroy one another. For example, earth
produces metal-literally metal is deposited in the
earth. Thus, they complement each other and are
good. In scientifc terms, fat terrain (earth) is suit
able for farming and building; the tall mountains
(metal) beneft the land by sheltering it from the
wind and providing water resources. Similarly,
water nourished wood; wood produces fre; fre
produces earth. All these combinations are good.
Using the same logic, water destroys fre-literally
water can extinguish fre; they confict with each
other and are thus evil. In scientifc terms, hilly
terrain is not suitable for agriculture or building.
It is also not diffcult to fnd a reason for fre
destroying metal-fre can melt metal. Fire de
stroys wood-wood burns in fre.
Hence, gradually sloped mountains and ribbon
like, winding rivers are thought to be auspicious
because "earth" mountains could be cultivated and
"earth" rivers controlled. Sharp and irregular shapes
are considered evil because the "fre" or "metal"
mountains often have rocky foundations, unsuit
able for farming.
The drawings (Figures i and 2) indicate the aus
picious or evil placement of dwellings on a site is
from one of the many books of feng-shui. The dia
grams are explained in poems as superstitious pre
dictions. However, one can see the scientifc basis
to them. These drawings represent the dwellings
in their physical relationship to water, mountains,
and roadways, and their orientation to sun or
shade.
In some cases, the feng-shui principles reflect the
social situation of the time. For example, a house
is defenseless if placed at a crossroad.
Feng-shui also encourages auspicious planting of
particular types of trees. For example, it is bene
fcial to plant plum or date trees to the south,
apricot trees to the north, willows to the east, and
pine trees to the west. Plum trees love sun, apricot
trees prefer cool shade, willows wave in the morn
ing sun creating lacy shadows, and the low westerly
sun is shaded by dense pines.
The application of feng-shui to building location
and design was based on a belief that whenever
possible the house should face a southerly direc
tion, toward the warmth of the sun, and sit with
its back to a large hill that would protect the dwell
ing from the wind. There also should be two
smaller hills fanking the sides to form a special
enclosure that would provide a sense of unity and
security. The fron view should be clear and open
for defense. Hills should not block the light. Water
was necessary; however, it should be located in
front and parallel to the house. These considera
tions have led to a particularly refned appreciation
of the topographical features of any locality, and
the efforts to achieve a favorable balance of forces
have brought about a uniquely sensitive environ
ment with dwelling places quietly nestled in the
contours of the landscape.
A Single Shared World
Mar Catherine Bateson
Traditionally, the village is characterized by a cer
tain minimum level of diversity and a size that
makes motion within it convenient. Although in
complex societies villages live in awareness of ur
ban centers, and villagers travel to the city to meet
special needs, for pilgrimages or to petition au
thority, most of the day-to-day activity is carried
on within the village. If the land is very fertile, the
population may be large-say ten thousand. This
is true in such places as Egypt, where small tracts
of the Nile-fed land support large numbers of
people. That number of people might live in a
dense, compact cluster and be able to get up and
walk to the farthest felds, carry on the necessary
cultivation, and walk home, all between dawn and
dusk. Alternatively, if the land is dry and hard,
limitations of time and human and animal walking
may mean that a village has only a few families,
a hundred people or even fewer. A small village
can support very few specialists, but it must have
a few, usually a midwife, someone with some nec
essary healing or ritual skills, some pattern of lead
ership if only an elder who is habitually consulted,
and one or more craftsmen such as a carpenter
or metal worker who help in constructing housing
and repairing tools. A large village can support a
considerable number of specialists and can also
have considerable diversity within its population,
but even if village life is rich enough so that many
inhabitants only participate in a part of it, a village
is not a conglomeration of separate worlds but a
single shared world.
This is all very different to think oneself back
into today, and it is diffcult even to fnd the ap
propriate characteristics of a preindustrial village
to provide a model for the metaindustrial village.
How much self-suffciency are we concerned with,
in food and energy and expertise? How tightly is
the metaindustrial village integrated into a national
power grid for its electricity, a national economic
system that converts its crops into cash for buying
merchandise produced elsewhere, and a national
information system that subjects the opinions of
the villagers and the music they can produce for
their own festivals to the comparisons of the big
time? In our discussions, we tended to assume a
walking community with at least the capacity for
self-suffciency in an emergency, a bias toward
producing its own foodstuffs, and at least one sig
nifcant cash-producing activity.
Most diffcult to think through are the social
limitations. Every stable village society must solve
I4
the problem of creating new households, and

Americans are used to having a very large pool
from which to select mates, even though the girl
or boy next door is still a favored choice. In many
cultures, however, villages are exogamous, and the
importation of wives or, less frequently, husbands
is one of the principal links to the wider society.
This is true on the whole in Israeli kibbutzim, where
the children grow up almost as members of the
same family. Urban Americans are also used to
living in a large-enough community to absorb se
vere perturbations and provide considerable pri
vacy, so that when marriages split, estranged spouses
do not keep running into each other at the same
parties, and one is not marked forever by a notable
piece of folly in the seventh grade. In most com
munes today, when a marriage breaks up, one
partner leaves the community, which is too small
to absorb the strain; this is one example of a gen
eral pattern of exporting individuals when they
are discontented or their lives are disrupted, a
common faw of utopia.
Does village life inevitably have to be monoto
nous, so that regardless of who goes to start the
village the next generations will become peasants?
Unless this question is addressed, there seems to
be little use in trying to swim against the tide that
has made people through history anxious to _el
0u0j from their villages, from the tedium of ag
riculture and from neighbors who know them all
too well, and go to the city, where the range of
choice of all kinds is so much greater, using old
villages as, at the most, bedroom communities. It
seems important that even if a village is able to be
largely self-suffcient in food and energy produc
tion, it should not try for cultural self-sufficiency
and it should have some specialties that are wanted
by surrounding commumt1es. Through history
such exchanges as rotating rural markets have pro
vided the moments of excitement. Most of us want
to reduce the movement of people and objects in
vehicles sharply, but not the movement of ideas
and the stimulation of communication, perhaps
through local and regional decentralized video.
It seems unlikely that small communities will be
able to strike a balance between cultural openness
and local generativity and to maintain the sense
of common purpose and identity needed to bal
ance the reduction in apparent choice that goes
with leaving the city and reducing mobility without
a shared sense of the sacred and common rituals.
Over and over in our discussions, the sacred grove
or meadow has seemed to be essential as a center
to the community, bringing into focus a pattern
of participation. Common rituals would have to
address the ecological values that undergird the
community and justify its basic choices. They
would also have to address the transitions and steps
in the life cycle that in America are so often dealt
with by moving on. Closely linking to the centrality
of a common sense of the sacred would be a pro
vision for the very young and the very old, both
groups a focus of common care, and neither seg
regated from the work and production of the
community.
I t is really only the automobile that makes us
think of villages in primarily spatial rather than
social terms. A village is not so much a place where
a given house is located as the locus of a family,
a festival, a garden, or a fsh pool, a focus of the
lives of many individuals, closely interlocked. In
effect, we are talking about breathing new life into
what we mean when we say that we live in a given
place.
I
i
J
MalCOlm Wells
ENERGY and ARCHITECTURE
Solar Village Principles
and Construction Ideas
Malcolm Wells
Approaching self-sufficient living through reverence lor life, using
systems tested by America's experts in soft technology. Food. Land
Husbandry. Shelter. Networks. Appropriate Scale. Wastes.
Aquaculure. Sharing. Solar and Wind Energy. Pivacy. Umits.
Conservation. Fun. And Elephants.
Expressive
It must not need explanation. It must say "rev
erence for l i fe." It must exhibit its dependence on
rain, wind, sunlight, earth, and oxygen.
Identifable
It must say "here we are" without recourse to the
use of si gns, l i ghts, or arrogance of architecture.
Beautiful
(Unattainable, but always the goal.)
Wild
Over and over, we stumble on the obvious: if the
habitat i s provided, the wi l dl ife will reappear. Can
we afford to set aside ten percent of the land around
the village as forever wild? Can we afford not to?
Secure
There may be no refuge from terrorism, but the
village must offer shelter from storm and noise, and
perhaps from vi bration as well.
Consistent
Each vil l age wi l l inevitably develop a direction,
an emphasis, at least sl ightl y di fferent from that of
all the others. The more clearly the village ex
presses itself the better the design.
Contoured
Nothing says "husbandry" more di rectly than
does contouring, following the design of the land,
not fighting it.
Permanent
If trees and topsoil grow at a hundred-year pace,
we can't be tearing up and rebuilding and tearing
up again every ten or twenty years. Interiors, oc
cupancies, these can change at wi l l , but let the
earth-platforms and the encircl ing land be at peace,
untouched agai n for generations.
Flexible
Organi c, growing and shrinking, responsive to
new knowledge, new needs-not locked into whole,
perfect forms.
Inevitable
Appropriate, local, right for its time and place.
As i f i t grew there.
Earth-Related
Stable, horizontal, sheltered, permanent.
Continuous
No more dot-dot-dot architecture! No more parts
instead of wholes. The vil l age must flow out of the
land and through time as wel l . As if it is growing
there.
Linear
The wheeled vehicle, whether it be a pushcart
or a self-propelled device, seems to dictate flow
through, as opposed cellular, circular, or stepped
floor spaces. Nonvehicular areas (l i ving units, for
i nstance) can line the l inear parts and be delight
fully stepped, sloped, and interrupted, but since
the vi l l age, i n order to be successful , must first of
all work, the ease-of-work aspect, especially when
combined with the need for contoured forms, seems
to dictate linearness.
Diverse
From Jane Jacobs to the speakers at our con
ference, all seem to agree that diversity at all levels
(occupancy, crops, life support, human i nsterests)
is the key to long-range success.
Simple
Understandable, consistent, geometric.
Exciting
Filled with the unexpected, not with pitfalls and
booby traps, but with changes of pace and scale;
architecture without all the fun extracted.
World-Linked
Part of the growing information network.
Accessible
Accessible not only to visitors but to the kinds
of work crews, machinery, and vehicles we hope
wi l l never be needed: emergency equipment, res
cue teams, major structural replacement machin
ery, and so forth.
Educational
Of course. Life processes (and the processes of
learning about life) always on display.
Democratic
With a few Republicans thrown in for balance,
perhaps.
And what about these? Limits to growth? The use
of chemicals and poisons? Private ownership? Pri
vate bel ongings? I nheritance? Existing structures
(demol ish, salvage, restore, retrofit, preserve?)?
Evil ? I mports (how much fuel , food, containers and
wrappings; how many experts, specialists?)? Vil
lage characteristics and rules (how much shoul d
be imposed in the way of aesthetic controls, di
versity, design; and who shoul d do the imposing?)?
Domestication vs. wildness of animals? What's the
best way to hide the village dump?
More and more, | think a tools/models-book wi l l
generate a vast fi rst-generation village-activity all
around the world, and from that experience, from
its successes and failures, wi l l spring the really
worthwhile villages we're all talking about. We can't
begin to lay down all the rules at this time.
Soft-Energy Paths From
Here to the Village
Amor Lovins
In any sustainable human settlement the renewable
energies of sun, wind, water, and biofuels suffce
to meet all reasonable human needs for energy
provided the energy is used very effciently. En
ergy would be harnessed via various commercial
technologies from the renewable energies that im
pinge on the area, and in the case of a city, on its
environs. Economic effciency, engineering ele
gance, and ecological benignity all seem to lead to
the same combination of very effcient use with
soft technologies or appropriate renewable sources.
Supplying energy at a scale and quality appropriate
to the task tends to minimize the economic and
social costs of distribution and conversion re
spectively. '
Just what energy technologies make sense is a
use-and a site-specifc question. What tasks do we
want energy for? What forms or qualities of energy
will do these tasks most simply and effectively, with
the best opportunities for integration and for cas-
'
Soft technology is the friendliest name for what has also been
called alternative and, by E. F. Shumacher, appropriate technology.
Stewart Brand, the editor of Tht Ntxl Whole Earth Catalogue and the
CoEvolutio11 Quarterly, has written, " 'soft' signifes something that is
alive, resilient, adaptive, maybe even lovable." My own favorite de
scription for the kind of technology we're talking about is that it is
forgiving. Scale and locale are implied. It is not endlessly consuming
of non-renewable resources. A bioshelter, a windmill, small scale farm
machinery, a windbreak of trees, wind-driven commercial and pas
senger sailing ships could qualify as soft technology. Nuclear bombs
and nuclear power, the wan Dam, the Four Corners Power Plant, and
the private car are not. There are also intimations of sustainability,
a possibility of a future in the term. And it is reversible. One can
undo it.
N.].T.
cading energy through successively lower-grade
tasks? How little energy can we get away with, at
what scale of unit use, with what distribution and
variation in time and space? How low-tech, reliable,
convenient, durable, and resilient do we want our
supplies to be? How might these things change in
the future or with different people? How precisely
do we know these things?
These are the main things we need to know
before we start asking what renewable energy fows
are available to us and how to harness them. For
each site, some forms of energy, or degrees of
reliability, or scales of supply are much more easily
achieved then others; no site is average or routine.
Each needs ideas. Knowing the quirks, we can re
examine how hard we want to work to get the right
kinds of energy to do the tasks we started with;
maybe we don't really need a steel mill after all.
Important types of energy needed may include
heat at low temperatures (say, below the boiling
point of water), at medium temperatures (cooking
and most other chemistry), and at high tempera
tures (metallurgy and ceramics); mechanical en
ergy at fxed sites (to run machines) or in vehicles;
electricity for the tasks that require this special,
costly form of energy (electronics, electrochemis
try, arc-welding) and for substitutable tasks (mo
tors that can run instead on compressed air, lights
that can run instead on methane, and so forth).
Road and air vehicles can generally do with solid
fuels (external-combusion engines or gasifers),
electricity stored chemically or in fywheels, the
coolness of liquid air, or possibly other methods.
The array of energy carriers and conversion de
vices available to marry a renewable energy form
with a task is as rich as your imagination. Most of
the things that look as though they ought to work
do work, and many of the brightest ideas have
come from ordinary people without special tech
nical backgrounds.
The most obvious soft technologies, each best
suited to particular uses in very rough order or
decreasing share of typical end-use needs include
the following:
Passive solar heating, cooling, and crop drying.
Seasonal storage of ice or warmth from a solar pond.
Active solar heating and cooling (often integrated) at
low temperatures (a need for active solar space cool
ing is a symptom of bad buildings, in any cli
m
ate).
Active solar heating at medium temperatures, through
mirrors (which can be aluminized plasric flms), Fres
nel lenses, or very selective collectors in a hard vaccum
(these can yield s,ooo to 6,ooo degrees Celsius under
load on a cloudy winter day).
Active solar heating at high temperatures (over 1 ,ooo
degrees Celsius); this required high concentration
ratios and direct (not diffuse) sunlight, though a low
tech, low-cost solar furnace on the Olympic Peninsula
has given an impressive performance running a
steam-engine generator.
Burning wood or farm or forestry wastes, taking great
care to conserve soil fertility (and possibly adding
steps like gasifcation or densification).
Converting such residues to liquid fuels (mainly al
cohols or pyrolysis oils), using pyrolysis, acid or en
zymatic hydrolysis, fermentation, and so forth.
Anaerobic digestion of some wet residues, expecially
those rich in nitrogen.
Windpower to make electricity (with or without grid
integration) or hydrogen, directly drive machinery
(including water pumps), or compress storable air to
run machines.
Existing, or low-head high-volume, or high-head low
volume, or run-of-the-river hydropower, or (in spe
cial cases) small-scale wavepower, again for electricity
or direct mechanical drive.
Solar ponds operating tow-temperature heat engines
(this appears to be the cheapest known source of base
load electricity in many climates).
Solar cells (photovoltaics), which may yield medium
temperature heat as a coproduct if they have con
centrators-and cheap amorphous cells will almost
certainly be here in the next few years before we
know what to do with them.
Hybirds of these technologies, such as a photovoltaic
coating on a fat-plate solar collector, a bioconversion
system driven by solar process heat or stirred by wind
power, a plastic-flm solar still/greenhouse, an inte
grated microhydro/wind/photovoltaidelectrolysis/fuel
cell system, or a small wood-fred co-generation/pyr
olysis/district-heating plant.
Hybrids of these technologies (and others, including
those we haven't yet thought of) with other processes,
including water and nutrient recycling, food produc
tion, shelter, and manufacturing. The possible com
binations are too numerous for a computer to enu
merate in the lifetime of the universe.
Most of these systems are several times cheaper
than alternative long-run replacements for dwind
ling oil and gas, and some are cheaper than oil
and gas today if one uses the best present art
which the government has probably never heard
of-cleverly built, well run, at the right scale, used
effciently, and done right. It is just as possible,
though not as dangerous, to screw up a solar panel
as a nuclear reator.
The first, second, and third priority is efficient
energy use, far beyond the levels of improvement
conventionally discussed. No kind of heating sys
tem makes sense if you live in a sieve. No kind of
liquid-fuel supply system makes sense if you drive
a Brontomobile. The "supply curve" for most soft
technologies-measuring the increase in cost, dif
ficulty, or nastiness with increasing volume of sup
ply-rises discontinuously and, toward the top,
very steeply, leading into hard solar technologies
such as monocultural biomass plantations, solar
power towers, and solar space satellites (which
work better if you lay them on the ground in
Seattle).
It is far better to save before the supply runs
low, to try to make supply superfuous, and to
retrofit one's house-using leak-plugging, heavy
insulation (say, R-40 and R-6o ceiling in a cold
climate), an airtight vapor barrier, good ventilation
through a heat exchanger so that it's heated largely
or wholly by people, windows, lights, and appli
ances. In a new house in our worst climates the
net space-heating load and the extra capital cost
can both be about zero. Any residual need can be
covered by slightly oversizing the solar water heater,
or if heating with a greenhouse, putting the water
heating panels inside it to avoid the costs of frost
proofng them. Effcient energy use is synergistic
with cheap, effective soft-tech design: a tight house
can get better performance from a fve-to-ten
times-smaller active solar system, and a simpler one
to boot, than can a sieve, because the heating load
is tiny and unpeaky, the thermal mass of the house
is much amplifed by its slow heat loss, and no heat
distribution system is needed. No offcial study
counts this essential synergism. Integration with
food, water, shelter, and materials systems is equally
essential.
We must remember that we are seeking not en
ergy for its own sake, but energy services. There
are lots of ways to skin an alternator. The objects
of transport may be achieved by living where one
wants to be, telecommunications, walking, riding
a horse or bicycle or scooter or driving a super
effcient car, hitchhiking, taking public transport,
airships, or out-of-body trips.
Even on the most barrenldulVcloudy land, there's
abundant renewable energy, even wind in the High
Arctic winter. The problem is the amount of trou
ble to get it. One can live better (materially) than
the U. S. average on a total energy budget of two
kilowatts (thermal), and in the U.S. that's the av
erage rate of insolation on only twelve square me
ters; so even with collection, conversion, and stor
age losses, the areas needed aren't unreasonable.
Urban densities improve solar economics. But that
doesn't mean all forms of energy are equally easy
to get at any given site.
For an existing settlement, we need to fgure out
present and long-term future (post-conservation)
structures of end-use needs, to devise a matching
soft supply system, then work backward to now to
see what has to be built when and what policy
instruments will be needed to do it. 1 The only im
portant questions have to do with implementa
tion-what happens in people's heads and how to
help it happen from the bottom up by helping
people see the energy problem as their problem.
In the long run, energy probably isn't a terribly
interesting problem, because we already know con
ceptually how to solve it, and are starting to do so
in practice. If we get out in one piece, then we can
get on with some of the really interesting problems:
water, soil fertility, food/population, climatic change,
1For methods, see Soft Energ Notes, May 1979. Available from
JPSEP, 124 Spear, San Francisco, CA 94105.
ecological resilience, social justice, and peace. In
energy, technique is i n a sense trivial: full or de
lights and traps for the techno-twit, but no longer
full of deep, scary conceptual gulfs. But using en
ergy to worthy ends, for right livelihood, is pro
foundly diffcult, and is not a technical issue at all.
A Dome Bioshelter as a
Village Component
]. Baldwin
Serious concern with energy effciency in buildings
requires a standard of performance and reliability
rather better than the traditional norm. Many de
signers, including those aware of the need to con
serve resources, do not have the regard for detail
necessary to deliver long-term high net energy
performance. I f we are truly interested in saving
energy and materials, we must analyze building
design for energy savings in construction, use, and
maintenance. Massive amounts of concrete, for in
stance, mean both a high energy cost in manufac
turing the concrete and reinforcing steel, and en
ergy-intensive transportation to the site. Structures
that develop leaks due to warp, rot, caulk failure,
and ultraviolet deterioration are not going to help
society's energy diffculties in the long run. It
seems clear that "life-cycle costing" demands a new
attitude toward architecture. When the structure
is sheltering biological systems, continuing me
chanical reliability must be of a very high order
lest a component failure result in loss of the cash
crop or other function.
One strategy for achieving good performance
and reliability is to develop a machine-made struc
ture utilizing high-quality materials in precision
components. Not only is quality control thus as-
51
sured, but the vagaries of construction crews are
much less likely to result in poor assembly. More
over, well-designed industrialized building systems
are much faster to erect, thus reducing the critical
time between cash outlay and cash return. Speedy
installation also reduces the risk of work being in
terrupted by poor weather conditions, strikes, and
infation. Machine-made systems can also be de
signed to ft tightly into transport modules such
as sea-land containers; parts can be nested and
packed in a manner that minimizes transport en
ergy and damage.
A likely candidate for such an architectural sys
tem is the geodesic dome. Domes lend themselves
well to mass production techniques. Indeed, the
reputation of domes for leaking and other weak
nesses is almost entirely due to inaccurate prepa
ration and assembly of handmade parts. Domes
are also materials-effcient, typically using about
25 percent less material than a conventional struc
ture of similar size. They are well known for easy,
rapid erection by inexperienced crews. There are
many instances on record of domes as large as 200
feet in diameter being put up in one day. Clever
designs do not even require the assistance of an
expensive crane.
Domes typically use many parts, but these tend
to be of only a few different types. This means
relatively low tooling costs and tends to maximize
the economic advantages of mass producing a large
number of similar items. It also means low inven
tory and storage costs both for domes awaiting
utilization and for repair parts. This reduces both
dollar and energy costs associated with stocking.
In fact, many dome systems use materials that do
not require covered storage, a further saving.
Perhaps the most interesting advantage of the
dome is good thermal performance. This advan
tage arises from the geometry, rather than me
chanical devices. Domes have superior surface-to
volume ratios when compared to most other con
figurations. A relatively low skin area means less
skin to lose heat through as well as less skin to buy
and maintain. This skin is smooth, offering little
resistance to wind. A greatly reduced heat loss due
to wind scrub is thus achieved effortlessly; it also
imparts an unusually high resistance to weather
damage. This, among other reasons, is why domes
are used for radar enclosures, especially where
weather is violent. The smooth shape has an ad
vantage inside too; natural toroidal convection cur
rent patterns eliminate stratifcation, reducing dif
ferences in temperature between top and bottom
and the consequent need for circulation fans and/
or extra-high heating demands to insure accept
able temperatures at the foor. In the summer
these air currents can be used to cool the structure,
also without the need for fans. These naturally
occurring air motions beneft plants by bringing
needed carbon dioxide past them at no fossil fuel
cost. Preliminary investigations suggest that control
of the aerodynamics of boundary layers inside a
dome may result in unusually good insulating ef
fects.
Another beneft of the shape of the dome, which
is essentially that of an inverted bowl, is that it can
act to refect radiation back into itself. This is es
pecially important in a greenhouse, where the ra
diant heat losses can be very high. On the other
hand, the dome's spherical section means that sun
can penetrate the glazing at a go degree angle
somewhere on the surface during the entire day.
This reduces losses in the morning and evening,
when the fat surface of a conventional structure
reflects a signifcant percentage of the available
sunlight. This holds true regardless of season.
Domes tend to be self-snow-shedding too.
There are advantages to a circular foor plan in
a greenhouse: a central mast can support a boom
carrying irrigation nozzles and platforms from
which the plants can be cared for and harvested
without the necessity for space-wasting aisles (typ
ically 20 percent of the floor area). Such a mast
could also be used to speed erection of the dome's
framework as well as aiding the pouring of the
foundation. Circular concrete form-work is also
much easier and cheaper, as it can be braced with
tension bands instead of many stakes and wood
work. The boom could also ease window washing
and other maintenance. Fish feeding could be ac
complished from the boom as could tank flling
and draining, harvesting, and cleaning. Such a
boom could be very simple in concept and exe
cution, in contrast to complex apparatus necessary
in other foor plans.
Assuming that the advantages of the dome are
now apparent, what other possibilities exist for
these structures? One is the potential for very large
domes. Buckminster Fuller has proposed domes
up to three miles in diameter; his suggestion for
covering downtown Manhattan is one such pro
posal. Bucky estimated this dome would quickly
pay for itself in snow-removal savings alone, not
to mention the greatly reduced heat and air-con
ditioning loads that result when the "fn area" of
hundreds O! buildings is effectively reduced by
having the membrane buffer the ambient weather.
Such large structures have not been built, though
there may be no technical reason why they cannot
be. However, smaller structures usually seem to be
much less threatening to many people and would
be a good way to test such ideas. The capital outlay
for smaller domes would be within the capabilities
of groups of people; neighborhoods, even small
towns or villages might be protected by a dome
shelter with the inhabitants living in the perimeter
of the structure, perhaps in earth-tempered hous
ing overlooking the central shared space. Such a
scheme would be ideally suited to the community
sized seasonal heat storage suggested by Ted Tay
lor. Consider a sample dome 300 feet in diameter.
That gives us about 1 .6 acres of climate-controlled
space. If housing were in a raised berm around
the perimeter and the housing units had a 30 foot
frontage inside and outside the dome, there would
be space for 30 homes-perhaps 1 20 people. A 1 . 6
acre bioshelter could supply them with all their
OOU-cxccQl perhaps WtnKte8-WtI a 8UOslan-
tial cash crop left over. Hydroponics is another
possibility. The synergistic interactions of a tuned
bioshelter/Ark would be visible to the occupants.
The maintenance of it would be divided. Thirty
families is getting near the critical mass necessary
for effcient methane production and could be
served by a wind generator in the 50-100 kilowatt
range, a size that has in itself advantages of being
suitable for mass production and distribution.
Load management reducing peaks and waste could
result in very high performance and excellent ef
fciency, assuming that the machinery is built to
last. This could be rather easily accomplished in
such a compact "neighborhood structure."
High-quality hardware would be capital inten
sive, but it is absolutely necessary for reliability and
long-term energy economy. There are several ways
that the initial outlay could be managed. First, a
cash crop could be used to make much higher
mortgage payments than is usual. Second, running
costs of such a structure, including the dwellings,
should be very low. And third, food costs for oc
cupants would be much less than store-bought
food, which carries high costs of transport, pack
aging (and disposal of packaging), middleman
costs, and the expense of fertilizers and pesticides.
It might also be feasible to rent such structures
through an arrangement comparable to the tele
phone rental system. This would ensure that the
quality of the structure would not need to be com
promised in order to meet frst-cost market price
competition. Such a compromise would reduce sys
tem reliability, just as low-quality telephone hand
sets would reduce the reliability of the Bell System.
( I f you don't think that this can be a serious matter,
you must not have lived where the phuue system
isn't by Bell.) Competition in hardware marketing
always results in the lowest common denominator
being adopted as industry standard. It might be
realistic for banks to amend mortgage policies to
accommodate bioshelters, since high-quality, high
performance domes would only appreciate in value
while maintaining reliability over many more years
than is "normal." The average commercial build
ing, including downtown skyscrapers, in the United
States is torn down after 37 years. A properly de-
signed dome/ Ark could be dismantled and moved
easily and without damage, except to the current
crop. This could be yet another advantage, as the
structures would then never wear out or have to
be torn down and would make communities re
sistant to economic disaster arising from being lo
cated in increasingly undesirable locations, which
is common. (One could conceive of a used-Ark
market! )
Our proposed 300 foot dome community would
be a true neighborhood. A good many bits of
8ha:cU a:UWa:c UcstUcs the UOnc itself ;md the
power system and sewage treatment would act as
social cement. Shared workshops, recreation space,
and laundry facilities would further reduce family
expenditures and increase social interaction. Freezer
space and facilities for repair and maintenance
could be common. The 30 families could share a
huge tape library, much larger than any single
family could afford. Heavy transport such as Dodge
vans could serve as mass transit at this scale with
shared costs far less than those resulting from in
dividual daily car use. Recent studies show typical
cost of owning a Big American Car to be 38 cents
per mile. Perhaps the families could support a
modest feet of identical economical cars to reduce
maintenance costs.
The neighborhood dome idea offers the exciting
potential of several such domes interacting with
one another and the rest of the world in a way
that would reduce transportation needs as well as
strengthening a regional cooperation in larger en
terprises including field farming and forest man
agement. The domes could raise seed stocks, tree
seedlings, e:ver crops for erosion control, and spe
cialty crops such as herbs. They would permit an
acceptable high-density housing without creeping
"slurb." Properly spaced, a group could be serviced
by electric vehicles using power generated by the
domes. There is some evidence that domes greatly
accelerate air movements in a way that is advan
tageous to wind generators.
It should be emphasized that the most desirable
size for such proposed domes has not yet been
determined. To do so would require an exami
nation of economics including mortgage policy and
payback periods, requirements of the housing sys
tems, QcOQC8 needs anU UcnanU8, 8I:uclU:a in
tegrity, codes, fre safety, net energetics of specifc
systems, implications of materials supply with re
spect to pollution and other environmental deg
radation, politics, quality control, environmental
effects of the Arks and of accretions thereof, trans
portation effects to avoid creating commuter com
munities, and various sociological aspects. What
does seem clear is that a neighborhood-sized bio
shelter/dome could be the basis for a community
that really does tread lightly on the earth.
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 ISJ
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Notes on An Agricultural/
Cultural Solar Village in
the American Southwest
john Todd
Ownership
In an ideal community, land should not be bought
or sold piecemeal. In an ideal village, all land
would be held in trust. As a result, there could be
no land speculation. Buildings, roads, ponds, mills,
barns, trees, houses, housing complexes, bioshel
ters, and offces could be bought and sold privately
between individuals and the land-holding trust or
corporation.
A bioregional plan would provide a map for
development and determine the limits and relative
proportions of activities. The plan would provide
building and zoning codes.
The holding corporation would earn its profts
from long-term agricultural lease/trust agreements
with farmers, through the building, fnancing, sale,
and leasing of the many village components and
facilities, and from the leasing of energy-produc
ing rights to private groups within the village and
community, or through the direct sale of electric
ity, water, and other key elements. Sheer diversity
of activities would ensure that it would not become
a dull or oppressive company town.
Energy
Indigenous energy sources would determine the
frst set of limits of the scale of activities and the
population. Apart from direct solar heating and
cooling, I see hydroelectric, solar-thermal-electric,
and biofuels from waste recycling as the principal
sources of energy. After a certain population had
been reached based on per unit or per person
: . .
: : :
. - `
energy consumption under this regime, then an
increase in population or activity could occur, but
only with a concomitant increase in the effciency
of energy use or through further conservation of
energy. If per capita energy use were halved, for
example, then, in theory at least, the population
could double.
Water
I n semiarid zones, water is the ultimate arbiter of
human activity and density. I would propose that
the volume of surface waters, pumped at indef
nitely sustainable volumes through turbines and
shallow wells, would determine the absolute limit
on development. Water would not be imported.
Water use in agriculture and aquaculture as dis
tinct from wasteful spray irrigation would be in
tensifed and given top priority. Gray water and
sewage would be purifed and recycled within the
village. The more times the water can be safely
reused in village cycles, the better. Drinking water
would be fresh.
Land and Ecosystems
The existing natural biological carrying capacity
and ecosystem structure in this region is climate
and water-limited. The region is semiarid with a
long, cold winter. As a consequence, the ecology
is very fragile. Except for paths, the woods on the
hills and valleys reaching into the mountains above
the existing settlement should remain untouched
for all time. They act as sponges absorbing the
otherwise rapid fooding of rain and melting snow.
They store moisture for the ground table and pro
tect the area from destructive foods.
Other sacrosanct areas should be the outwashes
and the streams lined with cottonwoods. They are
the only areas where intensive agriculture can nat
urally fourish. The outwashes should be saved for
agricultural forests, orchards, intensive aquacul
ture, and for market gardens. I can't overem
phasize how precious these lands are. These cot-
tonwood areas will be the ones most sought after
for houses. Their use in this way would amount
to a real tragedy.
Topographic features also need honoring, par
ticularly the tops of ridges where the hills comprise
vertical shallow valleys and ridges. Drought-tol
erant trees, including the pinon, should be planted
on some of the ridges.
Agriculture, Aquaculture, and Agricultural
Forestry
The economy of the area would be at least half
agricultural. The farmers would live with the other
citizens within the villages, not segregated. The
village, or perhaps two or three villages each linked
to a watershed, would be the hub for all of the
people.
Food production would take place in fve distinct
biological zones. Overall, each of these would help
strengthen the others through integration. The
zones are ( 1 ) bioshelters; (2) the village, which
would house fsh hatcheries as well; (
3
) stream
outwashes for intensive agriculture; (
4
) semiarid
hillsides for extensive agricultural forestry; and
(
5
) the valley for a mixed agriculture of tree crops,
grains, fodder crops, and livestock.
To optimize energy use, materials, machinery,
and especially moisture and nutrients, broad plan
ning would be done to see that agriculture was
dealt with as a system of interconnected parts. The
land would be protected from salting or monocrop
abuse. In the extensive agriculture and planting
of perennial grains and grasses, drought- and cold
resistant strains would be emphasized following the
ideas of Wes Jackson. Livestock breeds better
adapted to ecological conditions would be inves
tigated. Livestock would not range freely but would
be rotated in order to "tune" the various forage
ecosystems.
The Village(s)
The village would borrow a leaf from the book of
native American pueblos and cliff cities and from
various European cities and towns. Separate and
isolated family housing would be stringently avoided.
Instead the village would comprise connected and
shared structural elements. Housing, bioshelters,
schools and institutes, civic and religious centers,
commerce, and even manufacturing would be
combined into an integrated solar framework. The
sun, walls, and materials would be shared and do
double or treble duty. The level of crafts of the
village would be extremely high, and building
would not be rushed. A medieval or sacred attitude
toward architecture as an expression of divine
powers would be intrinsic to the enterprise. Some
of the builders would be artists. Local materials
would be used whenever possible.
I believe that bioshelters are going to be the key
connective element in the Village of the Sun and
in future solar villages. Recently, J. Baldwin and
I began designing a 300 foot diameter ( 1 .6 acre)
shallow-aspect glass-covered geodesic structure that
has 30 partially bermed, protected apartments
around its periphery; they open out into a solar
courtyard and the land beyond. In this design the
bioshelter elegantly provides eHIin_, lOOU, HnU
recreation including swimming for a population
of up to 1 20 people at a cost that may be com
petitive with standard multiple-family dwellings.
I mention this to point out that bioshelters
should not be additions to architecture. They
should be central elements in the architecture of
villages, for they will help heat and cool the in
habited structures and provide a basis for house
hold and community food production.
Transportation
Transportation will need careful thought. Agri
culture will require special energy-effcient ma
chinery matched to the type of agriculture and the
distances traveled. Initially much of this machinery
may have to be imported from Europe or the
Orient or be manufactured on site. Unlike the
people, the equipment would probably be dis
persed around the agricultural zones and housed
and maintained in energy-effcient underground
facilities. On the hillside farms and in the agri
cultural forests, horses would be used as principal
sources of power. Cooperative arrangements be
tween farmers could help minimize amounts of
machinery, time in transit, repair and fuel use.
Private cars within the village would be banned.
Narrow "back alley" roads would be for service
and repair vehicles. The main thoroughfares within
the village would be narrow roads for bikes and
walking. Old or infrm people could use some form
of electric transportation. The village would be
linked with the agricultural zones by bike roads
and horse paths.
Another alternative, with the least environmen
tal impact, would be a small, fast train that would
service the whole ranch and allow agriculturalists,
hikers and picnickers, shepherds and cowboys/girls
to move back and forth from the village.
Attention to transportation effciency and to the
development of a viable bicycle and horse network
would quickly pay for itself in lessened pollution,
reduced costs and noise, more pleasurable trans
portation, and lessened dependency upon petro
leum.
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 ISS
ECOLOGICAL CYCLES
Some Considerations for
Agriculture in a Solar
Village
Suan Erin
Food production in a solar village would include
both small home-scale production and larger-scale
public production. Home-scale food growing would
probably include winter vegetables in a solar green
house, fruit trees, and small vegetable and herb
plots. Both cooperative groups and specialists would
engage in larger-scale production. Cooperatives
would include such groups as students and teach
ers, who would partially supply the food n
'
eeds of
their schools; neighborhoods or smaller groups
primarily involved in other occupations, who would
grow food as a part-time effort; and commercial
cooperatives. Specialists would simplify overall food
production by providing vegetable and tree seed
lings, biological control agents, and locally adapted
seeds. Certain crops like grains, beans, dairy prod
ucts, meats, some greenhouse-grown fruits, and
wool would in most cases be produced by the co-
operatives or specialists instead of on a home-scale.
Foods requiring special preparation such as tofu,
cheese, baked goods, sprouts, wine, smoked fish,
and medicinal herbs would also be offered by co
ops or specialists.
Food preservation would be done on different
levels. Some people might use a large freezer co
operatively, while others would take their food to
a managed freezer locker, and still others might
purchase frozen food from a small commerical
operator. Such a small business could either grow
and preserve food or purchase crops from local
growers. A cannery would be available for indi
vidual use, but co-ops could have their own can
ning equipment. There would be new jobs, in
volving such necessary activities as the management
of a large root cellar in which root crops would
be stored for the winter. The manager would check
for spoilage, bring the vegetables out for distri
bution, and make sure storage conditions were
proper. Technologies for solar food drying would
be perfected; they would use adequately sized solar
dryers with backup systems of small wood fires or
wind-generated electricity. Depending on com
munity preference, either small conventional busi
nesses or co-ops could fill the functions described
above.
Effective small-scale farm machinery would be
used. Individuals and small groups would have
access to good tools and machinery through co-ops
or rentals. There would be an adequate supply of
machines and tools and idle ones would be rare.
Various patterns for land organization could be
used. Public buildings could be in the center, with
the homes and their gardens in the next ring, the
larger fields and orchards and food-processing
areas beyond these, and woodlands ringing the
whole scheme. Or with public buildings still grouped
in the center, homes could lie beyond the agri
cultural areas, next to the wild lands. A combi
nation would be possible, depending on the size
of the village. A small community might decide
that dwellings should be clustered so some land
could be left open and wild.
Whenever possible, biology would take prece
dence over technology; rather than installing an
expensive irrigation system, the village would achieve
maximum water retention through humus build
ing. When possible, a fish or solar-algae pond
would be placed uphill from a garden plot, elim
inating the use of a pump for irrigation. Crops
would be rotated, and felds left fallow periodically.
Living leguminous mulches would be interplanted
among heavy-feeding crops.
Imported foods would be expensive and consid
ered to be treats, like oranges for Christmas. There
would be a few luxury items like coffee, tea, and
exotic spices for which people would be willing to
pay the price.
The Need for Trees
L. Hunter Lovins
Village as solar ecology. Not city nor wilderness,
we seek a settlement to harmonize ourselves and
earth. We seek a metadimension from the rural
urban axis. Among the tools we have lacked has
been a measure by which we may sense the scale
we seek. As city visionaries have turned to urban
forestry, so we need a village forestry. Our mea
sure is, of course, the tree.
Trees give the scale, psychically and architec
turally, of the solar village. The presence of trees
and more important, our involvement with them,
propagating and caring for them-gently imparts
a sense of the appropriate human role. Our trees
reach beyond us, to remind us that the fertility of
our soils and the freshness of our skies are gifts
from those who touched this land before. The trees
they planted now give us shade. With each tree we
plant we are reminded of their perhaps inadvert
ent generosity, and minded to pass on a bit of our
own. Martin Luther spoke of this when he said,
"If I knew the world would end tomorrow, I'd
plant a tree today."
Plant a tree-a thought
in biologic time.
To see the city a a forest,
green instead ofgray; bark
for concrete. Leaf
leads consciousness of cycles.
Today we plant a tree
into a centur beyond:
vision village forest
biome-and I am
bonded to toda:, this earth and you.
L. Hunter Lovins
The very architecture of a tree should guide our
own. Monoliths erected in the clouds overreach
the scale intuitive to living things, imposing their
linearity on both those who dwell below and those
within. We should seek to settle more softly within
the landforms about us, our skylines an ornamen
tation of the treeline rather than a negation.
From the Druids to Gandhi, from the Buddha
to E. F. Schumacher, trees have represented a spir
itual and practical foundation for interaction with
the earth. Because it makes a difference when you
plant a tree. Perhaps it is the simple sense of giving
something back-a joy our species little knows
perhaps the touch of soil and of life. Perhaps the
bond is best left undefned: a mythic teaching, an
essence of villageness and much more. In the
words of the Southern spiritual, "Ain't you got a
right to the tree of life?"
Walking through our village this right is every
where embodied. We have reclaimed forestry, like
the care of our bodies, from the technicians, and
have invited the participation of all the villagers
in creating and maintaining our woodlands. The
bioshelters of the seedling nursery bubble about
with children and excitement. The skills one needs
to grow a seed into a young apple tree come mostly
from the heart, and what's left is easily taught. The
village forester is the steward of our efforts, and
the hostess, but the trees are our own. Each day
different villagers spend an hour or the day in the
care of the seedbeds, orchards, woodlots, shelter
belts, and street trees.
The nurseries are part of our school, and par
ticularly its responsibility. Older folk join the
youngsters potting, pruning, and planting, both
in the bioshelters and farther afeld. Older classes
are given the craft of logging, and learn the ex
hilarating arts of using saws, selecting trees for
harvest, felling them, and skidding them out with
care between the younger trees. Horses do this
best, we've found, with less compaction. Our forest
is diverse-young and old, hard and soft, old-snag
habitat tree and ranks of heart-strong saplings
rather like the village; and a bulldozer can't dis
criminate.
In town, we've grown an edible village, richly
endowed with fruit and nut trees. Rare and unique
specimens abound where individuals have taken
special interest. Many homes have arbors, crawling
with fruiting and flowering vines. Village forestry
is integrated wilh a general consciousness of green
and growing things, and with the cycles, seasonal
and nutritional, of which they are a part. Our cel
ebrations follow the round of harvest and renewal.
And because the lawyer has helped, the celebration
is hers; because the shopkeepers, artists, plumbers,
and bankers have each sprouted their seedlings,
turned the compost, and taken a turn with the
pruning shears, the festival belongs to us all.
In the same way there is no such thing here as
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 I
57
a landfll: "refuse" rejigged to "re-use." Wastes that
a city dweller would dispose of are our resources
to be recycled. I n Los Angeles County alone, be
tween four and eight thousand tons of pure tree
material-clippings, brush, downed limbs, and other
such biodegradable "trash"-are daily dumped
into increasingly costly landflls. In our village our
somewhat more modest contribution is chipped by
the student crews for easy use in our gasifers. The
urban biomass joins the woodlot slash as an essen
tial energy feedstock. Much of our organic residues
from the community farms and gardens, aqua
culture, and even kitchen scraps are composted,
but often they have spent an interim in a biogas
plant, releasing their hydrogen and a bit of carbon
as methane, before returning most of their carbon,
their nitrogen, and all of their trace elements to
the soil. The more cellulosic crop wastes are fer
mented into alcohols, and most of the wood wastes
pyrolyzed. The paper is recycled separately, though,
and returned to the little pulp mill with its hydro
power rig by the river. Even the mill contributes
to the town's energy, co-generating electricity off
its process heat cycle, which is itself fred by its
wood residues. As with all our systems, we have
taken care to utilize what would otherwise be
waste-ascading nutrient, fber, and energy fows
and returning only clean residues to our village
environment.
Some of the technology of this village forestry
is modern: the integrated food and energy systems
and the sophisticated microbial partnerships. But
much is metamodern, concerned to nourish par
ticipation and satisfaction of the craft, not neces
sarily to expedite. The village forester and her
interns teach the skills, but more, their role is to
convey a larger curriculum of care: the poetry of
trees, and the art. The effciency of industrial for
estry leaves shrubland and deserts, the desperation
of primitive forestry denudes. We seek a greater
balance of the earth's abilities and our own.
E. F. Schumacher said, "Tree planting is a very
nonviolent technology and a very democratic one."
I think we shall have to learn more and more to
look out for and develop nonviolent, democratic
technologies. By democratic I mean you don't have
to have studied for years and years, you can do
it yourself, you don't have to be rich, you don't
have to have great equipment. It's something
everybody can do, and something with which he
can and she can enrich the country and for once
do something for future generations, not only for
themselves. My reading of the situation is that the
technological development has become extremely
antidemocratic. So I' m most interested in any tech
nology, even to the humble and wonderful simple
level of tree planting, that everybody can use.
Waste Water Reclamation
Through Ecological
Processes
Steve Sering
Conventional sewage treatment processes that have
proven adequate with no major design changes for
over so years are now recognized as unable to meet
the present Fe
d
eral Water Pollution Control Act
Amendments without extensive modification, ad
ditions, and extreme construction expense. They
are also costly to operate, have high electrical de
mands, and consume precious natural resources
including fossil fuels, chemicals, and water. Con
ventional treatment processes are incapable of re
moving or detoxifying the majority of the most
harmful components of modern-day waste water,
for example, pesticides, herbicides, phenols, heavy
metals, and a host of complex domestic and in
dustrial chemicals now recognized as potentially
carcinogenic. In contrast, biological lagoon systems
containing aquatic plants have proven capable of
doing so. Furthermore, conventional technology
was never intended or designed to fulfll the press
ing need for water reclamation or resource recovery.
Most waste water treatment systems are essen
tially "biological," since even conventional, high
technology facilities such as trickling flters or ac
tivated sludge are entirely dependent on the growth,
survival, productivity, and "harvesting" of bacteria
to provide treatment. However, ecological theory
and practice have clearly demonstrated that mon
oculture systems, for example, bacteria only, are
inherently less stable and efficient than multispe
cies, polyculture systems containing a variety of
bacteria, invertebrates, sludge grazers, algae, and
plants.
Recent studies by the U.S. Environmental Pro
tection Agency1 evaluated 1 5 different aquacul
ture-type treatment systems utilizing polyculture
lagoons containing a variety of algae, invertebrates,
and fish. These were compared to four different
conventional treatment methods (activated sludge
and trickling filters), and in al cases where treat
ment objectives could be met, the aquaculture sys
tems reduced projected treatment costs from 4%
to as much as 94% of conventional technology
methods.
The main advantages of the ecological system
over conventional high-technology or lagoon treat
ment systems are as follows:
1 . Reduction of Operating and Energy Costs. The
system uses low-energy lagoon processes, including so
lar radiation for heating and oxygen production, in
expensive, air-infated plastic flms for insulation and
control of the lagoon environment, efficient aeration
systems, and water distribution methods using gravity
to reduce electrical pumping requirements. Methane
can be produced by anaerobically digesting the sludge,
as well as aquatic plants raised in the system, to provide
so%-8o% of the electrical energy requirements for the
water treatment facility. The need for expensive chem
icals is also eliminated.
2. Less Construction Expense. For achieving sec
ondary-quality water, the system is approximately so%
less expensive to construct and operate than conven
tional secondary-treatment systems. For achieving ad
vanced-quality or potable water, an ecological system
can save up to 75% of the cost of average conventional
tertiary systems. Furthermore, because a plant can be
located in each community for treatment and direct
recycling of reclaimed water, expensive sewerage trans-
'Henderson and Wert, 1
97
6; and Dufter and Moyer, 1 9
7
8. Ref
erences 1 and 4
portation lines and pumping costs are greatly reduced.
3 Reliability, Process Stability, and Flexibility. The
system can be designed as a multiple set;es of AquaCells
that can operate in any combination of parallel or series
fow, thereby allowing shutdown, independent perfor
mance monitoring, variation of effuent quality, or ad
justment of any component without interfering with
overall waste treatment. The two-to-six-day retention
time and use of hardy species is designed to allow a
large elasticity factor to handle wide ranges in nutrient
loads (in contrast, bacteria or phytoplankton systems
must receive relatively constant nutrient input to op
erate at designed efficiency levels). Finally, because the
system is modularized, expansion can be made easily
as needed.
4 Economizing Land Use. In spite of longer reten
tion periods of two to six days, an ecological lagoon
system requires little or no more land area than most
conventional, high-technology treatment plants with
retention times of only four to six hours. This may seem
surprising, but it is due to the large open space required
by conventional systems for vehicle access to numerous
individual tanks for grinding, grit removal, clarifcation,
air compression, aeration and biofltration, sludge diges
tion, sludge thickening, disinfection, chemical storage,
and so forth, and all the associated piping, valves, and
process control equipment. Only one acre of pond area,
plus one acre of pretreatment and posttreatment area
is required for secondary treatment of 0- 5-1. 0 million
gallons per day fow by the AquaCell process.
5 Year-Round Effciency. Insulated solar green
house covers and solar heat exchangers provide for
retention of heat in both the water and the air during
colder winter months, thereby maintaining operating
effciencies of highly productive tropical species year
round. This feature also eliminates the need for ex
pensive, oversized facilities designed to meet treatment
requirements during the least effcient period of colder
winter months.
CONCRETE POST
l FOOTJNG
SECTION VIEW - SOLAR AQUACELL SYSTEM
SOLAR ENERGY
DOUBLE POLYETHYLEHE
AIR INFLATED ROOF
THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7 I
59
SOLAR AQUACELL SYSTEM PROCESS F LOW DI AGRAM
AI EROBIC COTACT CEL - 1ST STAGE
- S(JOS DIGESTIO & ACID GEHERATIO
- 8 HS ltQID RTEHliO
AHAROBIC CONTACT AQACELL - 2N STAGE
- M'GENERTIO STAGE
AEROBIC SOLAR AQACELL
Z DfS RfTEifTOH - SECOHDAEFRUENT
- C-6 DTS RlTENTIO - ADAHCEO T[RTIARf
- C-6 P. S.IDS RETEKTIO
- 18 HRS liQID RETEiIO
- 1-2 YR 50.105 RETEKTIOH
8lo-f1l11 substntes for Increasing
1nd stcbtltzlng thanogenie
bittrh, end recluclng COD, SOD,
sus. solids, n.d nitrogen.
6. No Unpleasant Odors and Unsightly Ponds, Waste
Lagoons, and Treatment Tanks. These are eliminated
by the greenhouse covers and well-oxygenated, bal
anced ecosystem, thereby allowing location of the op
eration in urban areas.
7 Pathogenic Bacteria and Viruses are Eliminated
Naturally. Natural biochemical processes of the poly
culture system, including endogenous metabolism and
food chain consumption, reduce the danger of disease
and the amount of chemical treatment required for
purifcation. Ozone, rather than chlorine, is recom
mended for disinfection after secondary treatment.
8. Byproduct Reuse. Aquatic plants high in protein
and nitrogen are harvested on a regular basis, and can
be used to provide a valuable, rich organic mulch or
compost, used as supplemental livestock feed, or di
gested anaerobically to produce methane gas for process
operation.
g. Reduction of Total Dissolved Salt (TDS) Content.
Instead of a TDS increase such as occurs with conven
tional lagoon treatment, a TDS reduction can be achieved
because of the greenhouse cover reducing evaporation
and the cultured plants and invertebrate biomass re
moving minerals from the system.
10. Community Water Resource Planning and Rec
reation. The potential byproduct and reuse business
and recreational-activity potentials can provide numer
ous opportunities for community benefts from an oth
erwise negatively viewed aspect of life. For example, in
Santee, California, treated waste water is completely
recycled for use in a beautiful series of recreational
lakes and parks, now the major swimming, boating, fsh
ing, picnicking, and golfng activity center for the
community.
The Solar AquaCell System
The Solar AquaCell System consists of multicell,
aerated lagoons covered by solar-heated green-
houses that contain aquatic plants and biologically
active substrates. It has been designed to combine
the best features-low construction and operation
costs-of aerated lagoons with the control, reli
ability, advanced-treatment capability, and re
duced land requirements of conventional, high
technology treatment plants. By trading off ex
pensive concrete, steel, chemicals, and electricity
for natural ecological processes utilizing earthen
ponds, greenhouses, hardy pollution-consuming
plants, microorganisms and invertebrates, and so
lar energy, this process has demonstrated the abil
ity to convert raw waste water into high-quality,
reclaimed water at substantially lower cost than
with conventional treatment methods.
The system has the following characteristics:
1 . Multicell, aerated, earthen lagoons provide inexpen
sive holding capacity to allow two-to-six-day retention
times ( 1-3 acres per 1 0,000 people).
2. Floating aquatic macrophytic plants, for example,
water hyacinth, duckweeds, azolla, and other hardy spe
cies proven to have the ability to remove and metabolize
waste water nutrients and toxic compounds are used.
The foating plant cover also provides the important
advantage of shading out any growth of undesirable
suspended algae, which are diffcult to harvest and con
tribute to high biological oxygen demand and sus
pended solids in conventional pond effuent.
3 Submerged activated bio-web subtrates, a form of fxed
bioflm substrates whose function is promoting an at
tached biological flm of aerobic bacteria and protozoa
are well proven in conventional trickling flter and bio
disc processes. The low-density, vertically suspended
bio-webs increase the biologically active surface area up
to 50 times that of a conventional pond.
4 A greenhouse and solar pond cover are used to entrap
solar heat during the daytime, even during cloudy pe-
riods, and to reduce pond heat losses at night. Biological
rates of reaction are well known to increase by a factor
of 1 .5-2.0 for every 10 F temperature rise. This means
a treatment pond or tank system maintained at 65 F
instead of 55 F during winter months can treat up to
twice the Row, or be constructed to one-half the size,
saving construction and land area costs.
5 A dual-aeration solar-heat-exchange S)Stem, consisting
of a simple diffused, submerged aeration piping system
to provide a partial mixing and oxygen exchange, and
modifed surface aerators (operated during the day
time), is used to provide transfer of both oxygen and
solar-heated air to the pond.
REFERENCES
1 . WILLIAM R. DUFFER AND JAMES E. MOYER. 1978.
Municipal Wastewater Aquaculture. Environmental Pro-
tection Agency Report No. 6oo/2-78-1 1 0.
'
2. WILLIAM S. HILLMAN AND DUDLEY D. CULLEY JR.
1 978. The uses of duckweed. American Scientist, July
August, pp. 442-451 .
3 ERNEST S. DEL FossE. 1977. Waterhyacinth bio
mass yield potentials. In: S
)
mposium PajeTS, Clean Fuels
from Biomass Wastes. Chicago: Institute of Gas Technology.
4 UPTON B. HENDERSON, AND FRANK S. WERT. 1976.
Economic Assessment of Wastewater Aquawltwe Treatment
S)stems. Environmental Protection Agency Report No.
6oo/2-76-293
SOLAR AQUACE L L -PROCESS F LOW DIAGRAM
FACULTATIVE
AQUACELL
AEROBI C
AQUIICELL
( 1 ) GRINDER (Optional )
( 2) GROSS SOLI OS REMOVAL
- -------,
f Sludge added
1 to plant
Dpti ana 1 conventi ana 1
primary, 2-stage anaerobic
pond, Imhoff tank, or
screening (Rota-strainer)
FACULTATIVE
AQUACELL
AEROB IC
AQUACELL
I
I
I
___ _
t compost or
methane
digester.
( 3 ) SOLAR AQUACELL, TWO
STAGE , FOUR CELL SYSTEM
-
I
Aquatic plants
I chopped & pumped
I to composter.
I methane digester
t or other reuse
options.
- Secondary Treatment by
2-3 day retention.
- Advanced Terti ary
Treatment
by 4-6 day retention time.
- Aquaculture Process
Incl udes : floating aquati c
plants , bio-fi l m sub
strates, aeration,
solar heating, and
aquatic i nvertebrate
food-cha i n .
- Flow Equal i zation,
Oxidation, clarifi cation,
nitrification, and some
deminera l i zation, al l
in one unit process .
Screenings return
to AquaCell.
(4) FINAL SCREENING (Optional )
Slow-sand fi l ter or
Rota-strainer for advanced
tertiary treatment.
(5) DISINFECTION, CLEARIELL
& PUMP STATI
Ozone or ch 1 ori ne, then to
reuse options.
161
The Sustainable Farm
Wes Jackson
Assumptions
General
1 . A viable nearby village and a distant city are
necessary supporting elements for a viable farm.
Supporting is emphasized, for the farm does not
exist for the vi l l age or the city but rather land is the
foremost and most hi ghl y protected of any com
ponent in the entire support system.
2. Though the farm described here is charac
teristic of a region of highl y specific needs, the
pri ncipl es employed by the New Age farmer would
be the same throughout the l and, from New Eng
land to Southern California.
Prai ri e Pl ants
Religious Considerations
3. For humans, as well as for all species on earth,
our planet is the best of all possible worlds. There
i s no meaningful escape valve for most of us.
4. I n the l ong run, land determines more of the
possibl e patterns of activity on the planet than
humans.
5. Land is a community that incl udes the l iving
and nonl iving and is not just dirt.
6. The hi ghest calling of an individual is to par
tici pate with the land i n the promotion of a healthy
and productive biosphere i n order to meet, i n Tho
reau's words, "the expectations of the l and. " Hol
istic l and stewardshi p is a way of life.
7. We are to encroach upon wi lderness only as
"strangers and sojourners. " Wilderness is the stan
dard against whi ch we judge our agricultural and
cultural practices. Therefore all natural ecosystems
are to be protected. Such systems are the most
reliable source of information for a sustainable
future.
Institutional Consideration
8. Land is too important to be an item for spec
ulation. Therefore, some form of land-trust system
wi l l be necessary to regulate its use.
An Agricultural Shif
9. Because a safe, sustainable culture must rely
on sunshi ne, almost exclusively, the land wi l l be
called upon to be a sustainable and net energy
producer for food, clothing, shelter, and trans
portation.
1 0. Because seeds are now, and have histori
cal l y been, a central item i n our diets, most alter
natives in agricul ture must incl ude them. The clos
est approximation to the former natural vegetation
in vegetative structure is a hi gh-seed-yiel di ng per
enni al polyculture. Therefore, the majority of the
acreage would be devoted to this form of agricul
tural ecosystem.
Technological and Institutional Change
1 1 . Essentially al l the technology on the land
should be powered from a sustainable energy
source near at hand. Di rect solar power, wind
power, and hydropower should be used when
possi bl e.
12. Though machinery may be manufactured in
a distant pl ace, most repair shoul d occur at the
vil l age level if not on the farm.
Equipment and Support Buildings
Operator-Owned Equipment
One 45 horsepower tractor run on alcohol. One
mul tiple reaper combine (pulled and powered by
PTO from tractor). One side-delivery rake. One
baler for 1 ,000-1 ,200 l b bales. Windmil l for pump
i ng water. (Water tank is the accumulator.) Wind
electric power for refrigeration to store food. Freez
ing condition "accumulates." Wind-electric power
with induction motor to put power on line. Ordinary
wrenches and small tools.
Village Rental
Easy Flow Fertilizer (phosphorus and calcium)
distributor. Chisel (attached to tractor) for breaking
sod-bound soil s. Annual seedbed-preparation
equipment. Miscellaneous smal l tools and power
equipment.
Support Buildings
Machinery and solar-heated tool shed and work
shop. One hundred percent solar (passive and ac
tive) partially underground house set into bank.
Solar and mobile hog and chicken pens.
The 160 Acre Farm
"The Fuel 40
"
A six-species polyculture: five grasses, one leg
ume. These seeds are hi gh i n carbohydrates, low
in protein. The field averages about 20 barrels of
crude equivalent per year. Livestock are cycled
onto this acreage for a few weeks to enhance
crumb structure of soil .
"The Multiple Purpose 40
"
A six-species polyculture: four grasses, two leg
umes. Beef stock turned in for "finishing" on seeds.
Some years seeds harvested for cash crop. Early
vegetation to methanol still i n village with limit of
2-5 barrels of crude equivalent per year. This 40
is "cushion" acreage, often using the poorest l and.
"The Cash Grain-Hay 40
"
A six-species polyculture: four grasses, one leg
ume, one composite. Fall harvest for cash grain.
Livestock pasture June 1 -August 15. Hay i n win
dows and large bales after seed harvest. Winter
area for hybrid derivative of buffalo-domestic cow.
Windmill
Carry-Over Native Pasture
Bottom Land Boundary
Creek bottom for garden and annual cereals
(corn, wheat, soybeans, etc. ). Managed mixed
woodlot. Mixed orchard.
Bottom Land
Workshop, machine, and tool shed. House. Wind
electric machines for four families. Commons.
Looking Back to Now
Wes Jackon
The year is 2030 in a world with a heightened
consciousness. People everywhere-on farms, in
villages, and in cities-have sustainability as their
central paradigm. They think globally and act lo
cally. Regional semi-self-suffciency is emphasized,
but the principles of the New Age farmers are the
same from New England to Southern California.
Our utopian farm is in Kansas, below the 39th
parallel and east of the g8th meridian. The area
averages about 28 inches of rainfall each year, but
the evaporation is in excess of rainfall. This is
farming country that before being plowed more
than a century ago was biotically rich. Stories
handed down through the grandparents tell school
age children how the breaking of this virgin sod
sounded like the opening of a zipper. A few miles
east is the western edge of the vast Tallgrass Prai
rie, dominated by such species as big bluestem,
Indian grass, and switchgrass. Scarcely 30 miles to
the west are the mixed prairies dominated by
bluestem and sideoats grama.
Because of the minimal landscape relief, the
Great Plains is one of the few regions where i t
makes sense to divide the land into one-mile
square parcels. A road surrounds almost every
square mile. This is a land that after the "Great
Plowing" in the early 1 goos supported such high
producing annual crops as wheat, sorghum, milo,
and soybeans. Between then and 1990 only native
pastureland and roadsides carried the principal
grasses that were characteristic of the region before
the Europeans arrived. Even so, this prairie, mostly
because of forced grazing, had long since lost 20
or 25 native prairie species. What was left was not
prairie but grassland. During most of the last cen
tury, wheat was an important export crop for the
region; we are fortunate that even more grassland
wasn't plowed. Church leaders, farmers, and grain
men had said that we must sell grain to feed a
hungry world. It was mostly a moral veneer over
a basically economic consideration, but it was enough
to discourage the initial development of mixed
perennials. Traditional crops were proven pro
ducers regardless of their tremendous toll on finite
energy resources, soil, and, for western corn grow
ers, fossil ground water.
But now in 2030 the settlement pattern differs
drastically from what it was in 1 980. In this im
mediate area, each family lives on 160 actes, or
four families per square mile (640 acres). The
dwellings of all four families are near the middle
of the square-mile section but on their own prop
erty. Therefore, within 200-300 yards of each
other there are 16-20 people. Their small village
and main trading center, which includes both
school and churches, is 2 V2 miles away. No one in
the rural service area of the village is ever any
farther away. The village's service area covers 16
square miles ( 4 miles on each side), which includes
64 farm families totaling about 2so people. West
ward, in the mixed prairie, one-half of a section
(320 acres) is needed to support a siugle family,
and nearly 200 miles
.
west of the mixed-grass coun
try, in the short-grass prairie, 2 square miles is
usually necessary to support one family. Eastward
and in some of the west, it is another story. Along
the Missouri in Nebraska; the southwestern half
of Minnesota, most of Iowa, in southeastern Wis
consin, northern Indiana, northwestern Ohio, east
central Michigan, along the Mississippi, in western
Tennessee and northwestern Mississippi, in much
of the Sacramento Valley, as well as in numerous
other localized areas throughout the country, often
fewer than 1 o acres but never more than 20 is
enough to support a family. It is not that produc
tion is always higher than in our area, it is just that
a combination of factors, including rainfall, makes
a sustainable yield more assured. The carrying ca
pacity of the land is so varied that when we say
the average farm, nationwide, is 40 acres, we must
immediately realize the limited meaning of that
statistic.
Regardless of farm size, the village population
seldom exceeds the farm population by more than
a factor of two. An entire community in our region
consists of around 7SO people, including the 260
people on farms. Let us compare this to the dis
tribution pattern nationwide. The population of
the United States is around 300 million and is
scheduled to stabilize completely in the next seven
years, in spite of the fact that zero population
growth procedures have been in effect since the
early 1 g8os. The momentum of that past is still
with us, though insignifcantly so. But it is the dis
tribution of the population that has been radically
altered over the last so years. Most of the major
cities have experienced drastic declines and the
number of cities of 4o,ooo or less has greatly in
creased. Optimum city size was widely discussed
in the last century. Many of the New Age pioneers
concluded, though there was nothing like unani
mous agreement, that much of the social pathology
of our former urban areas could be attributed to
the spiritual dangers that arise when people no
longer know or feel their rootedness in the land.
When heat comes from a furnace, food from a
grocery store, building materials from the lumber
yard, and the automobile from the showroom
floor, the spiritual loss is devastating to the society.
It doesn't necessarily take a city of a million, many
concluded, to provide the "critical mass" necessary
to help a large number of humans live up to a
broad spectrum of their innate potentialities. A
population of 40,000 seems to have a special as
sociated eneq
. When the cathedral of Notre

Dame on the lie de France was begun, the pop
ulation of Paris was 3s,ooo. Renaissance Florence
had a population of 3s,ooo-4o,ooo. Regional cities
now seldom exceed 40,000, and there are some
what fewer than 4,000 such cities totaling fewer
than 160 million people. Of course, some of the
major cities still contain a few million people, but
they are mostly emptied and much of the area now
produces food, clothing, and shelter where con
crete and stone formerly dominated the environ
ment. The civilization was a long time learning
that, by and large, the only people who really liked
big-city life were merchants and intellectuals.
Of the 300 million people in the United States,
some 20 million, or about one-ffteenth of the pop
ulation, work in the rural areas not associated with
rangeland and forestry. Nearly 10 million families,
totaling about 40 million people, are living on 400
million acres of cropland. This amounts to a little
over 1 3 percent of the total population, well over
twice the percentage of so years ago and nearly
three times the total rural population of that time.
The rural villages, however, contain twice as many
people as the countryside they support. I men
tioned earlier that the land holdings vary drasti
cally in size. For example, in much of northeastern
Illinois, a family of four can live on s acres. This
amounts to 1 28 small farms or s 1 2 people per
square mile. This is a very high density, but the
productivity of the land is the determining factor.
Over 8,ooo people live within the 1 6 square mile
rural service area. Its supporting village has over
16,ooo people.
Our solar village of soo or so is necessarily dif
ferent from the northeastern Illinois village of
16,ooo. Aside from the differing political dynamics
associated with different sizes and densities, there
is a commonness of purpose best refected in the
numerous bioshelters that grow what might be
described as a healthful diet, though not an abun
dance of calories. The felds provide most of the
protein and carbohydrates for this society, and it
is up to the people in the villages and cities to
provide vegetables and fruits and a certain amount
of protein, mostly from fsh, in the passive biosh
elters pioneered by the New Alchemists in the last
century. The major differences among these vil
lages have to do with the regional responses of
village people in their work with farmers to meet
5
the expectations of the land. A pluralistic society
does not preclude the possibility of holding a com
mon allegiance.
Neither does pluralism mean that certain pat
terns of both young and old cannot be similar
everywhere. Throughout the country, older peo
ple have the option of living in the village, but
their presence is cherished on the farm. Nearly all
have chosen to live in the village, but most return
to the farm daily to assist their families and neigh
bors in various chores. These are the people who
play the most important part in the children's
education.
Most communities now emphasize the value of
history, and history becomes more real when adults
tell personal stories that link the past to the pres
ent. The stories are about heroes, the prophets of
the solar age, and the pioneers in the era of de
centralization and land resettlement, and villains
who were responsible for chemical contamination
of the land and its people. The older people tell
of a past in which nuclear power was tried, dis
covered to be filled with unresolvable uncertainties,
and abandoned. Many of these older people lived
during what is now called the "Age of the Rec
ognition of Limits." These former doom-watching
pioneers were like the children of Israel who had
escaped the grasp of the Egyptians and then wan
dered in the wilderness for 40 years, saddled with
their own slave mentality, waiting for a new gen
eration of free minds to develop and be ft for life
in the "promised land." Many of the pioneers have
readily admitted their earlier addiction to all the
consumer products of afuence, and work hard
at teaching their young the true source of suste
nance and health-the land. They are living re
minders that this sun-powered civilization has ar
rived as the result of nothing less than a religious
reformation.
The strong new land ethic has resulted in a dif
ferent concept of land ownership. Under the land
trust system, land is not owned by individuals in
the same sense that it was 50 years ago. Never
theless, it can be passed on from one generation
to the next, and people have a strong sense of
ownership. They cannot do exactly as they please
with the property. They cannot willfully pollute
it with toxic chemicals, sell it off for housing de
velopments, or in any way speculate with it. Such
wasteful exploitation discounts too much of the
future. Activity that is potentially destructive is
prohibited by a board of nonfarming elders from
the village and two from the regional city. Both
sexes are equally represented.
On our farm, the well-insulated house is partially
underground and is equipped with both passive
and active solar installations for hot water and
space heating. Though it is 100 percent solar, a
backup system consisting of a wood-burning stove
is in place. A water-pumping windmill and two
wind-electric systems provide power for the farm
stead. A combination of technologies from the past
are appropriate for the farm's water system. A
water-pumping windmill pumps water, which is
stored in tanks for the livestock and household
use. Trenching machines and plastic pipe are used
to deliver the water wherever needed for human
convenience. One wind generator takes care of all
refrigeration needs and simply cools the freezer
and refrigerator when the wind is blowing. Since
the refrigerator itself is the "accumulator," no bat
teries are needed. The other wind-electric system
consists of an induction motor that kicks in when
the output of the wind-powered generator is greater
than the load on the service line. The induction
motor, which is similar to that found on washing
machines in the 1 930s, is plugged into the wall
receptacle and runs the kilowatt-hour meter back
ward, giving the farmstead an electrical energy
credit. A special meter records the numbers of
hours generated. If this household wishes to break
even on the utility bill, its unit must provide four
kilowatts of electricity to a privately owned utility
for each one it receives. There is just enough elec
tricity generated in the area from both wind and
low-head hydroelectric turbines to supply the needs
of the countryside, village, and regional city. This
is because in the last 50 years, solar power for
space and hot water heating has become so wide
spread. In combination with the appropriate de
sign and construction of new shelters, heating
needs have been met with a modest amount of
wood, grown for the specifc purpose of backing
up the solar systems.
In the 20 acres of creek bottom land, people
grow such annual monocultures as wheat, corn,
rye, barley, and oats. Orchards and vegetable gar
dens are near the houses. Canning of garden prod
ucts takes place outside, using energy derived from
concentrating collectors. Dried foods take prece
dence over canned foods, and root crops are very
important.
A single solar hog house on wheels is large
enough to accommodate no more than 2 sows and
20 feeder pigs. A similar solar chicken house, sur
rounded by a 25 square foot fence accommodates
from 25 to 50 chickens. About half are frying
chickens, which are eaten during the summer
months. Unlike the chickens grown in closed con
fnement 50 years ago, these animals experience
far fewer tumors, and the yolks of their eggs are
a brilliant gold.
Pigs and chickens "graze" on fresh pasture dur
ing the growing season. Their mobile pens are
I66
easily advanced a few feet each day with hand
levers operated by schoolchildren or grandparents
from the village. The mobile pens allow for an
economy of fencing materials. This managed mi
gration simulates the migration of large animals
in presettlement times. Only the breeding stock
for pigs, the laying hens, and two roosters are
maintained throughout the winter.
The one large outbuilding is devoted to covering
the small amount of machinery. The expensive
equipment consists of a small, multiple-harvesting
combine, a 45 horepower tractor, and a hay baler.
The combine with a 7 foot cutter bar runs off the
tractor's power take-off.
The traction and transportation fuel needs are
met with alcohol, derived from crops grown on
the farm. The "Fuel 40" is the principal energy
producer. This is a six-species polyculture consist
ing of fve grasses and one legume. These species
are selected for their high carbohydrate content
and relatively low protein yield. This 40 acre field
averages about 20 barrels of crude oil equivalent
per year.1 Livestock are cycled onto this acreage
for a few weeks each year to enhance the crumb
structure of the soil
One hundred years ago, approximately 25 per
cent of the total acreage was devoted to horses and
mules for traction purposes. Now, about eight bar
rels of crude equivalent, or only 1 o percent of the
total acreage on the farm, is devoted to farm trac
tion. This is because horses and mules would burn
energy just standing around being horses and
mules, but the tractor can be turned off. However,
the tractor cannot become pregnant and build a
replacement on solar energy. A pregnant mare at
rest is not really resting. Furthermore, parts wear
out on the tractor and cannot be replaced by or
dinary cell division as with the traction animal.
Nevertheless, from the point of view of total en
ergy expenditure, the tractor is used rather than
the beast of burden, so long as other livestock are
around to enhance the crumb structure of the soil.
The other 1 2 barrel equivalents from the Fuel 40,
representing about 1 5 percent of the total acreage,
are sent to the village and city for their portable
liquid fuel needs.
The alcohol fuel "refnery" requires some elab
oration. Organic material produced at the farm is
delivered to a privately owned or co-op still in the
village. The production of portable liquid fuels is
part of a fne-grained approach to our overall en-
'Nationwide, roughly 25%, or approximately 1 oo million acres of
cropland, is devoted to growing alcohol fuels. The yield amounts to
about 50 million barrels of oil equivalent. An additional seven million
barrels equivalent is gained in the form of methanol from the farm.
I n 1
979
, this would have amounted to only a three-day supply of oil,
or less than 1 % of the annual consumption.
ergy needs. It has become economically feasible as
farming methods have become less energy-inten
sive and less capital-intensive. It wasn't economi
cally feasible in the 1 g8os and produced a very low
net energy yield, but the agricultural sector was
enthusiastic about producing alcohol fuel from
farm crops. Hundreds of on-farm stills were built
and closed down in 18 months, after federal and
state subsidies were withdrawn. Major stills costing
$20 million and more were built, and many closed
within three years, after losing the subsidies. In
those years, each automobile would consume in
calories what nearly two dozen people would con
sume in the same period. American farmers learned
a valuable and painful lesson about the potential
of alcohol fuel production to meet the enormous
energy demands of that time. Soil loss accelerated
during this period, and farmers gradually learned
to curtail their alcohol-production programs to a
very moderate level.
Another source of energy comes from the "Mul
tiple Purpose 40." Leaf and stem material are har
vested from a herbacious polyculture after the
early summer seed harvest and are converted into
methanol, equivalent to two to five barrels of crude
oil each year. In the fall, some of the net wood
production of the woodlot and orchard is also con
verted. Upon arrival at the still, all organic matter
is weighed, moisture is determined, and nutrients
are calculated. The farmer may sell some or all of
his alcohol into the public sector, but the nutrients
left over after distillation are returned to the farm
and are usually spread on the feld or woodlot
from which they were taken. This is to prevent soil
mining and reduce the amount of chemical fertil
izer applied.
One concern that is constantly discussed and fne
tuned has to do with what tools and equipment
should be owned and operated by the farm and
which ones made available through the rental place
in the village. At this time the rental place provides
an Easy Flo fertilizer distributor (for phosphorus
and nitrogen), a chisel that is attached to the tractor
to break sod-bound soils, seedbed-preparation
equipment for the annual crops, and numerous
other pieces of equipment that are used infre
quently.
People on this land have a deep distrust of com
mercially produced chemicals being introduced on
their land. It is amazing that this distrust began
to develop some 40 years ago in the churches. In
many seminaries during the 1 g8os, cadres of stu
dents began to debate the possibility that the Gen
esis version of the Creation had contributed to
much of the environmental problem. During the
1 970s, the question of dominion had been much
discussed. Since most defenders of the Genesis
story had insisted that dominion was not the current
word, but that stewardship was implied, church
people began to relax. That turned out to be a
rather unimportant consideration. During the 1g8os
another discussion began, much more quietly. The
emphasis this time was on the cultural impact of
a subtlety in our religious heritage. The culture
had fostered, however unwittingly, the belief that
humans are a separate creation. After all, the bib
lical creation story held that the earth and the liv
ing world were created, and then there was a
pause. Following the pause, in a special effort,
came human beings. But our biologists in the last
century demonstrated that the same 20 amino
acids are in the redwood, the snail, the human,
and the elm tree, as well as in the lowly microbe.
Furthermore, the nucleotides that make up the
code are mostly the same throughout. Native
Americans had talked about Brother Wolf and
Sister Tree long before these discoveries. Now in
our churches it is frequently mentioned that our
cells have had no evolutionary experience with
such and such a pesticide, or that the concentration
of a "natural" chemical much greater than our
tissues have ever experienced is to be avoided. A
toxic level is defned as a quantity beyond the ev
olutionary standards of our cells.
Because a sustainable agriculture is more im
portant than one that is highly productive, upland
crops consist of recently developed herbaceous
perennial polycultures. The polycultures are en
sembles of species developed by the land grant
universities through the experimental stations.
Perennials were selected because of their soil-hold
ing capability. High-yielding, nutritious seed-pro
ducing perennials were first inventoried in nu
merous experimental gardens. Next, an intense
selection program was initiated to increase the
yields of individual species. Later, thousands of
species combinations were tried. From then on,
plant breeders sought to improve performances
of individual species within the polyculture envi
ronment.
These perennial polycultures have several dis
tinct advantages over the former annual mono
cultures.
First, soil loss has been reduced to replacement
levels. We had expected this, for the reduction of
soil loss was a major motivation behind the exten
sive research. Second, spring water has returned
to the area. Many springs are now trickling all year,
and the microhydroelectric capacity has increased,
along with a rise in the water table. Land with
perennial vegetation has become a huge battery
for stored "electricity." A third advantage is that
the energy required for maintenance and harvest
after the initial planting is just 5 percent of that
required by the former high-yielding monocul
tures of annuals. And fnally, although the usual
pathogens and insects are still around, they do not
reach epidemic proportions.
Our particular farm has felds consisting mostly
of grasses, a few legumes, and even members of
the sunfower family. Some of the felds are har
vested in early summer, some in the fall. The early
summer or July harvest in one feld includes de
scendants of intermediate wheatgrass, Canada wild
rye, sideoats grama, tall wheatgrass, and Stueve's
lespedeza. The fall harvest consists of four gr<sses,
a legume and a member of the sunfower family.
The grasses include descendants of switchgrass,
lovegrass, Indian grass, and weeping lovegrass.
The legume, wild senna, and a perennial soybean
provide the nitrogen plus some seed, and a high
yielding descendant of the gray-headed conefower
produces seeds with two important oils.
Some of the early objections to harvest and sep
aration of seeds from the polycultures were quickly
dampened when agricultural engineers began to
invent machinery. In fact, it is ironic, but the re
turn to polycultures became possible only in our
age of mechanization. Some have since made the
argument that monoculture arose because of the
need to harvest small seeds effciently when all we
had was hand labor. The age of mechanization,
then, has allowed us to develop an agriculture with
a vegetative structure that clos
ly mimics that of
preagricultural times. Much of the machinery has
allowed our psyches to resemble those of hunters
and gatherers again, but of course in a modern
context.
The fossil fuels used during the transition era,
1 985-2025, as we moved from mining and de
struction of land as a way of life to the solar age,
afforded us opportunities not only in plant breed
ing, but in animal improvement as well. This pe
riod gave us the chance todevelop crops that were
less dependent on humans. The same was true
with the livestock. For example, the American bi
son was crossed with domestic cattle, and the
thicker hides made the critters more resistant to
severe winters.2 In a way, we are now using solar
energy (stored in grass) to maintain barns-the
hides of animals. Protective shelter made of lumber
for large animals is not necessary.
Livestock are moved from one polyculture to
'Grandparnts amuse the children with stories about square to
matoes and featherless chickens. The featherlss chicken was devel
oped i n th 1
97
0s by rductionistic technologists who thought thy
would help corporate chicken growers and processors cut costs in
cleaning chickens. The consequence was a funny-looking chicken that
required such a warm environment that the energy costs were in
excess of the cleaning costs. The moral of the story is that big money
is a sure license for big foolishness.
another in a rhythm that does not jeopardize flow
ering and seed set. Most grazing does occur in
areas that produce seed for human consumption,
but certain polycultures are grown for the livestock
exclusively. A few weeks before slaughter buffalo/
beef graze on mixed perennials that are setting
seed. This is a weak simulation of the feedlot of
former times. No hay is hauled to the barn for
winter feeding, for there is no barn. Some of the
hay is windrowed with a side-delivery rake and is
left, but most raked hay is rolled into 1 ,ooo-1 , 200
pound bales and remains in the feld. This system
reduces the need to spend time and energy moving
hay and manure, and the nutrients are left where
they are most useful.
The movement of livestock on the farm turns
out to be critical. In natural ecosystems there were
no fences. Even though we are forced to use fences
for all our livestock, our management program
recognizes that animal wastes on the farm con
tribute to the crumb structure of the soil as men
tioned earlier, which allows the soil to release nu
trients slowly while holding moisture.
Many of the problems caused by farming tech
niques of the 1 g6os and 1 970s have been solved
in this new era. Seedbed preparation occurs mostly
where the few acres of annuals are grown, and
since tillage has been dramatically reduced, soil
loss is almost nonexistent. Silting of streams is
minimal, and more species and larger populations
of fsh thrive in the waterways. Energy-expensive
terracing is no longer as necessary, and where
check dams and small farm ponds exist, they serve
the farmer mostly as pools for catfsh culture. Ir
rigation is reduced, for the perennial polycultures
slow the water so thoroughly that hundreds of
thousands of springs throughout the country have
been reborn. Fertilizer application is minimal be
cause the diversity of crops has maintained a better
nutrient balance with less nutrient runoff. The
recordbreaking fsh kills of the last century due to
fertilizer and feedlot runoff are now only part of
the legends about our unenlightened grandpar
ents. Weeding is essentially a thing of the past,
except in gardens and where annual monocultures
are grown. Pesticide application is almost non
existent because of both polyculture and a broader
genetic base in our crops. A broader genetic base
in livestock and the demise of high-density feedlots
have made the use of antibiotics for livestock sel
dom necessary. The life of farm machinery has
increased by a factor of 1 6 in the last 50 years. All
of these changes have resulted i n a drastic cut in
energy consumption for farm production.
The major changes began to surface during the
1g8os, when a few young agricultural profession
als, having adopted a sustainable agriculture as
their paradigm, looked for the sustainable alter
natives rather than placing their bets on corpo
rately controlled agriculture. I n many respects,
they were the true heroes of the era. Some took
the theory of the quantitative gene developed dur
ing the 1 g6os and, using it along with the known
virtues of hybrid vigor, made repeated break
throughs in new crop development.
There was a unifying theme from Massachusetts
to Kansas to California. People recognized that i n
the l ong run, and often i n the short run, land is
the determining factor. Citizens sought to meet the
expectations of the land and to look at the natural
ecosystems of different regions as the standards
against which to judge their agricultural practices.
Suddenly, as is so often the case with profound
statements, there was a new meaning to the words
that Thoreau had uttered from the Concord Ly
ceum in the mid-1 8oos: "In wilderness is the pres
ervation of the world." The policy-makers began
to take seriously the prediction of Charles Lind
berg: "The human future depends on our ability
to combine the knowledge of science with the wis
dom of wildness." When this concept was applied
to our farms, they became waterproof, diversifed
family hearths. Our felds are no longer vulnera
ble, oil-hungry monocultures, although they are
not wilderness either. But without wilderness, we
would not have developed a sustainable agriculture
and culture.
9
EARL Y MANIFES TA TIONS
Project 1 : The Cathedral
Church of St. John the
Divine
John Todd
In most of its teachings, Christianity ignores ecol
ogy. However, within it are profound notions of
stewardship for all living things that have been all
but ignored in our secular age. The teachings of
Christ may be given new meaning in a union of
Christianity arid ecology. For the Very Reverend
James Parks Morton of The Cathedral of St. John
The Divine in New York, this union is essential to
the reinspiration of Christianity.
Cathedrals in medieval times were seats of cul
ture as well as religious practice. They had their
schools, hospitals, artisans, and crafts as well as
music and theater. They were like whole towns
woven into a religious economy.
This earlier vision of the cathedral inspired the
bioshelter and school projects that follow. At the
conference the bioshelter Ark and eco-school were
conceived. Afterwards, with support from the
Threshold Foundation, several architects were asked
to continue bioshelter proposals on their own.
Some of their ideas follow.
170
I
(
Paul Sun
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I
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Fish culture -
Solar-algae ponds
PaulSun
171
Project 2: A Maine Coastal
Village
john Todd
Acquaintances of ours owned a farm on the coast
of Maine that they were considering turning into
a community land trust. The community was to
be based on the traditional economics of agricul
ture, fshing, and boat building but within a thor
oughly modern context. It was to strive to create
a symbiotic relationship with the nearest existing
town.
This project created a lot of excitement at the
conference as the dream seemed close at hand and
would be most attainable by individuals cooper
ating in groups.
The community would be powered by traditional
and modern renewable technologies. Hydropower
and windpower would provide the electricity. The
forest would be the source of biofuels. Ice would
be cut in winter for the fshery. Bioshelters would
be used for growing all-season produce. The main
biological economy of the village would most likely
be mariculture and sea products. Bioshelters would
serve as hatcheries and as food-rearing facilities.
Inshore fshing vessels might be built by the com
munity, combining traditional methods and ad
vanced propulsion technologies including wind
power.
The architecture was to be solar using a com
bination of traditional and modern ideas. A Maine
village architecture-which we called arkipelagos
emerged from the conference.
Arkipelagos would be apartments within a solar
bioshelter. Individual and community gardens
would be part of the interior architecture. I t was
felt that arkipelagos might take some of the sting
out of harsh Maine winters.
The Maine solar village would look to the sea,
but like intertidal dwellers it would also be firmly
rooted to the land of which it is a part.
IJ2 THE JOURNAL OF THE NEW ALCHEMISTS NO. 7
.. . . . . . . ! . . . . . . . . . . . / . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I
t
. / . .V
JAs
1
73
i
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I

NEW SOLAR HOUSING
Project 3: Marin Solar
Village
John Todd
Marin Solar Village, adjacent to San Francisco, is
the brainchild of Sim Van der R yn and his asso
ciates. It is a bold attempt to create from an Air
Force base a village of the sun with wide public
acceptance.
As of this writing, many of the political hurdles
have been overcome. Underway now are the in
tensive design and cost-projection phases. The fol
lowing text and drawings provide an overview of
what may become the frst village of the sun. It is
also the beginning of a village as a solar ecology.
It could well become an important milestone for
us all.
The reuse of Hamilton Air Force Base is an
opportunity to build the most modern community
on the planet designed to sustain a high-quality
life based on ecological balance and the efficient
use of energy. It will provide 8oo new solar dwell
ings, 1 ,500 new jobs in a corporate center and light
industry, a transit center to ease freeway conges
tion, on-site food and energy production, and an
open space for wildlife and recreation. Solar Vil
lage will be privately fnanced with no cost to the
county, making Marin first in the nation with prac
tical approaches to our problems of energy, eco
nomics, and environment.
African palm oil, 28-29
Agriculture
in future, 164-174
in solar villages, 155-157
on sustainable farm, 162-163
Set also Gardening; Vegetable
culture
Airplane design, 47
Algae, computer model of
growth and decline of,
88-93
Set also Solar-algae fsh
ponds
Alternative energy. See Energy
technology
Anaerobic bacteria, in solar al
gae fsh ponds, 85-86
Apprenticeship programs, of
Cape and Islands Self
Reliance Cooperative, 44
Aquaculture in solar villages,
155
See alo Solar algae-pond fsh
culture
Autologic thinking, 45-49
Automobile design, 45-47
Azolla mulch, 53
BAM greenhouse, 1 19-123
Bamboo, uses for, 68-69
Banana trees, 28-29
Bark gleaner birds, 65
Baseload electricity, solar and
wind energy and, 41
Bean beetles, 55
Better Yields Insects, 106, 107
Bicycle design, 48-49
Biofuel potential, 39
Biological "Islands,"I03
Bioshelters
cost of, 97
design concepts, 122-123,
124, 128
in future, set Bioshelters of
future
of New Alchemy households,
1 19-133
religious tradition and, 170
on second foor of house,
126-127
See also BAM greenhouse;
Cape Cod Ark
Bioshelters of future
computer models and,
1 12-1 1 8
role of, 153, 155
See also Solar villages
Bird habitat, 65-67
Birdhouses, 66-67
Birds and pest control, 64-67
in biospheres, 120
Blue tilapia, in fsh feed study,
74-82
Cacao lands, in Costa Rica,
27-30
Campesinos, ecology issues in
Costa Rica and, 27-31
Cape Cod Ark
gardening in, 97-103
reglazing of fberglass of,
1 10-1 1 1
seedling production in, I 02
valuable crops in, 1 01 , 102
vegetable planting schedules
in, 102-103
whitefy control in, I 04-107
?7
Cape Islands Self-Reliance Co
operative, 9, 43-44
Cattle pasture, conversion of
cacao land to, 31
Celery cultivation, I 0 I
Chinese weeding geese, 57
Christianity, ecology and,
167-168, 170
Cities, as human settlements,
137
Coastal Talmanca, Costa Rica,
26-27
Commercial greenhouses, sal
vaging for home use, 128
Community Action Committee
(CAC) of Cape Cod, 9,
43-44
Computer simulation, 72-73
of algal growth, 88-93
and design of future bio
shelters, 1 1 2-1 1 8
prediction of light transmis
sion through fberglass and,
1 10
Coopetalamanca, 31
Coppicing, 69-70
Costa Rica
ecological destruction in,
26-32
See also Coastal Talmanca,
Costa Rica
Crop rotation, 98, I 03
Cucumber beetles, 55
Culms. Set Bamboo
Deforestation, in Costa Rica,
28-34
Double pruning, 102
Dry stone walls, 63
Earthworms
as cash crop, 82
culture, 75-76
for fsh feed, 75-76, 77-82
Educational system, childhood
"sense of wonder" and, 20
Encarsiafonnosa, whitefy con
trol and, I 04-107
Energy technology
in future, 39-41 , 168
for solar villages, 149-1 51 ,
154
Environment
destruction of, 27-32
f-shui and, 143-145
sacredness of, 141-142
Environmental Protection
Agency, detection limits of
toxic material analysis, 1 10
Feng-shui concepts, 143-145
Fiberglass reglazing, I 10-1 1 1
Fish feeds, 74-75
earthworms as, 75-76, 77-82
Hying insects as, 76-82
and solar algae-pond fsh cul
ture, 83-87
Flying insect patrol birds, 64
Flying insects, as fsh feed,
76-82
Flywheel energy storage, 41
Food
bamboo stalks for, 68-69
hedgerows and living fences
as, 62-63
preservation in solar villages,
156
for wintering birds, 67
Set also Vegetable culture
Forest biofuel production, 40
Forestry. See Tree culture
Fruit trees
as bird habitat, 66
surveying and grafting, 58
Fuel assistance programs, 43
Fuel costs
automobile design and, 46
on Cape Cod and islands, 43
"Fuel 40," 163, 167
Future
description of, 164-169
sustainable farm of, 162-163
See alo Bioshelters of future;
Solar villages
Games, for ecology and energy
education, 21
Gardening
and bean beetle control, 55
mulching and, 53-55
as pastime, 25
retail value of produce from,
25
and squash vine borers and
cucumber beetles, 55
Ste also Agriculture; Gardening
in Cape Cod Ark
Gardening in Cape Cod Ark,
97-103
soils for, 97-99
winter crop varieties, 99-102
Good Mori ng, America, New
Alchemy
appearance on, 1 6
Gourds, as bird habitat, 67
Grafting, of fruit trees, 58
Greasing the Windmill, 37-38
Green Gulch Farm, 24
Ground eating birds, 65
Haber process, 60
Hedgerows and living fences,
62-63
Herbs, insect population studies
and, 57
Home design, autologic and, 48
Home energy and food audits,
44
Home furnishings, autologic
and, 48
Hydroponic flters, 85
Insect importation permits, I 07
Insects
and hedges, 62
for pest control, 57, 103
Set also Bean beetles; Cucum
ber beetles; Pest control;
Squash vine borers; White
fy control
Instituto de Tierras y Coloniza
tion (ITCO), Costa Rica,
33-34
Land ownership, 27
in solar villages, 154, 155
Land use
and feng-shui concepts,
143-145
in future, 164-174
in Switzerland, 141
Law, deforestation in Costa
Rica and, 28, 32-34
Leaf mold, uses for, 58-59
Leaves, recycling of, 58-59
Legumes, nitrogen-fxing, 60,
61
Lettuce
mulching, 53, 54
variety tests for, 1 01 , 102
Living fences. See Hedgerows
and living fences
Los Angeles, 139-140
Marin Solar Village, 174
Micronvironments, of hedge-
rows and living fences, 63
Mill dams, abandoned, 40
Moniliasis fungus disease, 30
Mulching, 53-55
and leaf mold, 58-59
from nitrogen-fxing hedge
rows, 63
NAISA, 30-31, 33-34
Nesting. See Bird habitat
New Alchemy Institute
agricultural forestry program,
56-57
categories of work of, 14-15
and formation of Cape Is
lands Self-Reliance Cooper
ative, 9, 42-44
fruit tree culture at, 58
increased infuence of, 23-26,
42-43
response to TV segment on,
1 6
school group education pro
grams, 20-22
screening for toxic materials
at, 108-1 1 0
solar greenhouses of individ
ual households of, 1 19-133
volunteers at, 17-18
Nitrifying bacteria, in solar al
gae-fsh ponds, 85
Nitrogen, in fsh feed, 83-84
Nitrogen fxation, 60
and azolla mulch, 53
chemical and biological, 60
by hedgerows, 63
by trees and shrubs, 60-62
Oil spills, 27
Parasitic wasps, bean beetle
control and, 55
See also Encarsiaformosa
Pepper yields, mulching and,
54
Permaculture, defnition of, 56
Pest control
in bioshelters, I 03
birds and, set Birds and pest
control
Set also Whitefy control
Pesticides and herbicides
in Costa Rica, 28
persistence in soils, I 08-1 1 0
Plants
nitrogen-fxing, 6 1
for pest control, I 03
Poetry, 19, 157
Greasing the Windmill, 37-38
Valentine Season: Riverdak, 19
Potting soil, leaf mold for,
58-59
Poultry, coppicing as forage
system for, 70
Predatory birds, 65
1
75
Pumped-water energy storage,
41
Rabbit feed, as fsh feed, 84
Repairs

automobile design and, 46
of solar energy devices, 48
Root wall, bamboo plantings
and, 69
Russian olive tree, 62-63
Safety, automobile design and,
46
Seedling production, I 02
Sewage treatment processes. See
Waste water reclamation
Seaweed mulch, vegetable yields
and, 53-54
Small farmers. See Canos
Smog, 139-140
Soils
for Cape Cod Ark, 97-99
mulching and, 53
persistence of toxic materials
in, 1 1 0
water-retention capability of,
55
Solar algae-pond fsh culture
alternatives to commercial
feeds in, 74-82
computer modeling of algal
growth in, 88-93
drain and restart strategy in,
85
functions of, 138
limits to growth effciencies
in, 83-85
location for, 156
methods of extending good
water quality period in,
85-87
recirculating linked, 86-87
Solar AquaCell System,
160-161
Solar greenhouses. See Bioshel
ters; Cape Cod Ark
Solar technology
autologic and, 48
changing attitudes toward, 25
economical scales for, 40
prospects for, 39-41
retroftting home for,
129-132
Solar villages
agriculture in, 156-157
bioregional plan for South-
west, 154-155
in coastal Maine, 1 i2
conference on, 135-136
description of. 164-169
energy technology in,
149-1 51
feng-shui concept and,
143-145
Marin Solar Village, 174
need for, 139-141
neighborhood dome bioshel-
ter concept and, 151-153
principles and design for,
147-148
role of bioshelters in, 155
sacredness of environment
and, 142
social organization of,
145-146
transportation in, 155
tree culture in, 157-158
Squash vine borers, 55
Straw mulch, 53, 54
SUNAI, (computer model
bioshelter), 1 12-1 18
Supplemental watering, vegeta-
ble crop yields and, 53,
54-55
Switzerland, agriculture in, 141
Tax credits, for solar and wind
energy equipment, 25
Thermal storage, 40-41
Tilapia fsh, growth rates in so
lar-algae ponds, 83-87
Tomato cultivation
in Cape Cod Ark, 1 01 , 102
mulching and, 53, 54
and whitefy control, I 04-107
Topsoil destruction, 29-30
Transportation, in solar villages,
155
Trap plants, I 07
Tree culture
coppicing and, 69-70
and feng-shui concepts, 145
grafting of fruit trees, 58
increasing interest in, 52
at New Alchemy, 56-57
and nitrogen-fxing trees and
shrubs, 60-62
in solar villages, 155,
157-158
for structural materials,
68-70
Ultraviolet light insect traps, 76
United Fruit Company, and
Coastal Talamanca of Costa
Rica, 27-31
United States Environmental
Protection Agency, evalua
tion of waste water treat
ment systems by, 159
Valentine Season: Riverdale, 19
Vegetable growing
criteria for varieties selection,
100, 101-103
planting schedules for,
102-103
"Village as Solar Ecology: A
Generic Design Conference,
The," 9, 135-146
Volunteers, at New Alchemy
Institute, 17-18
Waste water reclamation,
158-161
Wastes, recycling of. 75, 138,
158
Water quality in solar algae-fsh
ponds, 84-87, 93
Water supply, persistence of
toxic material in, I 09
Water storage, 40-41
Watering. See Supplemental
watering
Weaving, willow and, 70
Whitefy control, 104-107
Will-o-the-Wisp insect trap,
76-77
Willow trees
coppicing, 69-70
as living fences, 62
for weaving materials, 70
Wind energy
and auto logic, 4 7-48
changing attitudes toward, 25
interconnecting plants, 41
potential for, 40
sites for, 39-40
Windmill, greasing, 37-38
Wood, tree culture for sources
of, 68-70
Yellow bullhead, in fsh feed
study, 77-82
The necessity of the sacred attitude i one of mnember
ing-remembering the larger context of one's existence,
one's duties to one's environment and to the invisible
principles that regenerate life constantly.
Keith Critchlow
Wo Ae the New Aichemts?
" . . . a small band who work to gather, bo . ; . .!.vt. of R so;hnable futur - -ne\ of
New Age Tool and Die Com.pariy hat a i: .e!p to rre:: rhe . . software. ,Jr bk>l'dh1i
technol.ogy to realiz that vision."
The New Alchemy Institute is t small _1terationl Jrganiz,ation dediated t- researd1
and education on behalf of humanity a.. ,d the pl;et: "Ow majcr task," th ... y <:y, "is tile
development of ecologically derived forms of energy, agriculture, aquaculture, hot5ing., a11d
landscapes that will encourage a repopulation and revitalization of the coutysidl. ''!':w
Institute has projects in,several countries in the hope !;hat our research and. ex )rmc ::a
be used by large numbers of people in diverse regions of the w :Jrld. "
How bid They Get Started?
The organization began when a few concefned people, disheartened by e.ence Gil all sides
of an endangered ecosystem, began to ask whether it is, in fact, possible tc 3us:;n h'lan
populations in ecologically viable ways rather than with the capital-intensive, expi.oiative,
wasteful, and polluting methods presently employed. And if so, how? Increasipgly, it
.; appears that it is indeed possible.

In 1975 the New Alchemists conceived the bioshelters that were christened "Arks" . . .
solar-heated greenhouses with aquaculture tanks. In 1976 two ar}cs were built; one on Prince
Edward Island and one on Cape Cod. The Cape Cod Ark has weathered every winter since
without auxiliary heat and has produced satisfying yields of food and seedlings. Yields from
both gardens and solar-algae ponds were exciting. Earlier issues of the JOURNAL recount
the simultaneous evolution of the New Alchemy Center in Costa Rica, and are worth
tracking down.
What Are Those People Doing Out There?
The New Alchemists have made a concerted effort to reach out to others. Nancy Todd
reports, "What began long ago with Farm Saturdays has evolved into an active educational
program. Besides our own efforts in outreach, we have joined forces with the Commtinity
Action Committee, based in Hyannis, and three other local groups to form the Cape and
Islands Self-Reliance Cooperative . . . . I, in the beginning, we were somewhat isolated "fiom
our commtinity, it is no longer so."
Also, at the prompting of Margaret Mead, a staunch supporter of the New Alchemists,
they convened a conference entitled "The Village As Solar Ecology: A Generic De-
Conference."
The entire "Explorations" section of this JOURNAL, written by many of its

participants, is devotedto ideas'engendered by the conference.
The . New Alchemists re1ort: Their concepts of the state of energy, what hey have
learned about the land and its use, their experiments in aquaculture and bi(mhe1ters,
about the need for trees. In addition
, they discuss what a farm may be like i the y,ea :030 .

.
Todd comments, "So it is that although, we continue to live and work in the :present'
. . . we are at the same time living i a. dialectic .with the future, fantasizing and plam:fing;.ur
Platonic vla of the: sun., knowing that the vision will both form and inform us as we :J6 it."
THE STEPHEN GREENE PRESS Brattleboro, Vermont 05301
Cover desn byBil Schommer. 1981 The Stephen Greene Pres. P1t>ted in the U.S.A. ISBN 0-8289-04Q65

Journal of The New Alchemists 7 (1981)

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