Would you eat a cownose ray? Virginia hopes so

For four years now, the state has worked to reduce the number of shellfish-eating rays in the Chesapeake Bay by adding a new predator to the waters - humans.

The state opened the waters to ray fishing and created a market for the winged creature's blood-colored flesh, which tastes more like veal or flank steak than seafood. It even changed the name from bullfish to the more palatable-sounding Chesapeake ray.

But, so far, few are biting.

"I have folks who buy it who are vegetarians because it tastes like red meat," said Chuck Macin, owner of Uncle Chuck's Seafood in Virginia Beach, but he says that if he had to depend on revenue from the sale of ray meat, he'd "starve to death."

For many fishermen, the Chesapeake ray is an odd-looking nuisance that packs a punch; a stinger near the tail is best avoided. But it's also a meaty fish, with about 7 pounds of flesh on an average-size ray.

The benefits of developing a sustainable Chesapeake ray fishery, officials say, would be many: another season of income for watermen, a new product for consumers, and revenue for the state from taxes and permits. Plus, oysters, the master filters of the bay, would have a better chance of survival.

This time of year, Chesapeake rays, also known as cownose rays, descend on local shellfish beds, suck clams and oysters from the sand, crush them with rock-hard plates that serve as teeth, spit out the shell and move on.

"We've had trouble with bullfish for the last 15 years," said H.M. Arnold III, an Eastern Shore waterman who has seen "acres of them" feeding at once, so many it seemed he could walk across their wavering wings.

"They're lethal," he said. "They eat it all."

Scientists have not determined how many of the migratory rays dine in the Chesapeake Bay and inland waters of Virginia's Atlantic coast each May to October. Anecdotally, the population seems to have reached a high as the ranks of the rays' natural predators - sharks - have declined.

That has the state trying to lure people to the top of this food chain.

Chefs have developed recipes for dishes such as ray marsala and Korean ray soup. Cooking demonstrations at venues across the state - including the Virginia Aquarium & Marine Science Center in Virginia Beach - extol the pleasures of eating it. Nutritional analyses tout the meat as high in protein and low in fat.

A product called Chesapeake stingers has been developed - a breaded, pre-fried strip with a bit of a kick. And L.D. Amory & Co. Inc. in Hampton now can process rays by machine, which reduces waste and increases profitability.

"It is a food source; it's not just a nuisance," said Mike Hutt, executive director of the Virginia Marine Products Board, the state entity at the forefront of the marketing campaign.

L.D. Amory & Co. sends wholesale shipments to Asia and out w est, but Sam Rust Seafood Inc., also in Hampton, hasn't had a local order for Chesapeake ray for months.

Still, optimism persists.

"This is still in its infancy," said Meade Amory of L.D. Amory & Co.

He pointed out that 30 years ago, Americans didn't want to eat squid. Then it was marketed as calamari, and "now it's a staple."

Same with the Patagonian toothfish. We "couldn't give it away," Amory said. But when the name was changed to Chilean sea bass, it became a highly sought species. Then it was severely overfished, so much so that watch groups discouraged consumers from eating it.

What state officials and scientists want to avoid is the fate of the Chilean sea bass and, even worse, the Chesapeake ray's sister species, the Brazilian cownose ray.

After achieving popularity, it was quickly overfished into endangered species status, said Robert Fisher, a Virginia Institute of Marine Science fisheries specialist and marine scientist who has been studying the Chesapeake ray for years.

"If the market takes off, we'll need to establish catch limits," said John M.R. Bull, spokesman for the Virginia Marine Resources Commission.

The goal in managing the fishery will be to strike a balance between maximum catch limits and maintaining a ray population that can sustain itself.

That might be trickier than it seems. Although stocks appear plentiful, Chesapeake rays have a long gestation period - 11 months - and a low birth rate - on average just more than one pup a year. And when they swim into local waters in late spring, many females are pregnant. So killing one ray early in the season may mean killing two.

Fisher, the scientist, soon will release the results of his research, but he hopes that the market won't take off until the science is solid, including hard and fast population estimates and mortality rates.

Meanwhile, the state continues to hawk the Chesapeake ray at supermarkets, festivals and, in the fall, at the Virginia Aquarium.

"A turning point will be reached," predicted Bull of the marine resources commission, "and it will take off."

Lorraine Eaton, (757) 446-2697, lorraine.eaton@pilotonline.com