The vast, underwater desert of the North Sea is a landscape hidden to all but a minute few.
Then imagine the stillness shattered by something human-made, massive, and intrusive. The industrial shockwaves resonate for miles.
We would expect marine life to flee in shock.
Yet, the opposite happens. A biological population boom begins instead. Fish in their thousands start aggressively claiming the real estate.
What did we create that accidentally turned a water wasteland into a marine metropolis?
How a not-so-subtle shift is changing the North Sea floor
Looking out from 14.3 miles off the coast of Zeebrugge, Belgium, the North Sea looks endless.
But beneath the flat horizon and choppy waves, a transformation is taking place.
With force, 44 colossal steel structures were plunged deep into the sand. They’re built to withstand all the power that ocean currents have to deliver.
Offshore installation vessels like the Aeolus battled for months to get the major engineering endeavor finalized. Strong marine currents and unpredictable weather were just two of several different conditions to overcome.
A nine-month construction blitz saw crews anchoring these marvels of infrastructure at incredible pressures and depths of 115 feet.
Large-scale dredging displaced 360,000 cubic yards of sediment. Nature still hasn’t managed to fill erosion pits of up to 21 feet deep.
Acoustic shockwaves as loud as 196 decibels reached over a quarter of a mile away in the process.
What reason would marine life have to stick around after this assault?
An ecological plot twist: From seabed to city
We would expect a barren wasteland long after the trauma of industry was over. But the opposite happened.
The infrastructure triggered a biological explosion and fierce colonization by a host of species. They started clinging to an alien “reef” that none of their kind had ever seen before.
The transformation around the vertical presence was virtually total.
The hard surfaces where once there were none were suddenly overrun by an incredible 75 distinct groups of marine organisms. You can catch a glimpse of the megacity from the surface when the waves drop enough to see barnacles and mussels.
But it’s much further down where the artificial reef’s scale is truly revealed. A fish called pouting (Trisopterus luscus) in particular likes the underwater “skyscrapers.”
A single spot on the seabed suddenly hosts an estimated 29,000 individual pouting.
They have completely moved in to aggressively feed on the wealth of amphipods and porcelain crabs around the steel, says the Vlaams Instituut voor de Zee.
What massive structures could possibly support this thriving metropolis?
The dual but unintended benefits of green energy infrastructure
These enormous “skyscrapers” in Fish City are actually the submerged foundations of giant offshore wind turbines.
OD Nature says that this shift in the ecosystem is one hundred percent down to Norther Wind Farm’s gravity-based foundations and steel monopiles.
The layers of mussels and 29,000 fish are all a result of heavy green energy engineering endeavors.
What looks like any other industrial column from the surface is actually a thriving biological base beneath.
There’s a human element to offshore energy
A tranquil sea vista is something coastal communities value above most aspects of their real estate. This makes them hesitant about massive developments entering the view.
But thanks to studies teaching us about the beneficial reality of offshore wind farms, public approval is growing.
While their primary function is harnessing wind energy, for the flourishing schools of fish below, they’ve become their skyscraper homes.
What other fears about the green-versus-green conflict are going to turn out to be groundless?