At Last, U.S. Hopes, Snakehead Is History

Importers Rush to Bring In Ferocious Fish Before Ban Takes Effect Tomorrow

Starting tomorrow, the carnivorous snakehead that passed a drought-stricken summer as story bait for the hungry media is now, finally, banished, blacklisted and destined for the black market.

It will be illegal to get caught with a live one, and any scofflaws found importing or carrying the fish across state lines could face a $5,000 fine or six months in jail, according to a new regulation that goes into effect nationwide as soon as it is published in the Federal Register.

Generally, such publication is followed by a 30-day grace period, and only then does it become law. But not with the snakehead, that dreaded marine predator that can survive for a while out of the water and can walk on its fins.

A few were found in a Crofton pond in June and had the area's biologists, anglers and governmental agents quaking in their Timberlands, fearful that the monstrous fish would slither into the nearby Little Patuxent River and eventually the Chesapeake Bay, where it would begin devastating the ecosystem.

They dispatched the local problem -- spending some $20,000 on chemicals and equipment, plus 300 days of staff labor, to poison the entire pond, said Jill T. Stevenson, a deputy director with the Maryland Department of Natural Resources at a congressional hearing yesterday morning.

But the fish's importers weren't worried about saving the bay. They were worried about saving the scales. On July 23 -- when U.S. Secretary of the Interior Gale A. Norton announced a possible ban -- the United States had an immediate surge in snakehead imports.

In July 2001, 2,170 of the bulging-eyed fish came into U.S. ports. But a year later, in July 2002, three times that number, or 6,397 snakeheads, came through. Within the first six days of August, a walloping 2,012 snakeheads arrived.

And that wasn't all: Inspectors at ports in New York, Newark and Chicago were getting slews of calls asking: When does the ban go into place?

"People were trying to beat it," notes biologist Kari Duncan, with the Fish and Wildlife Service. So the department decided that as soon as the ban hits the books, it's official.

Already, the snakehead has been a boon for business at Annapolis's Yin Yankee Cafe, where spoof ads on radio station WRNR lured customers by the dozens.

"This just in!" boomed a voice over a noisy newsroom in the background. "Another Chinese snakehead fish has been caught!" It was found, the ad proclaimed, "wearing a robe and smoking a cigar. Eyewitnesses say it showed up in taxicab with two very attractive women under each fin."

Soon, the cafe's owner was trekking to New York to buy a few live snakeheads, which he carried back to Annapolis in a cooler on a train. After tomorrow, he will no longer be able to transport the fresh fish across state lines, but Yin Yankee waiter Kevin Wallace hopes they'll again bring it back -- on ice.

"It goes great with a Riesling or our Asian pear sake," he said.

But out in the real world, the snakehead has been no joke. After two months of hand-wringing and permit-wrangling, scientists finally donned respirators and special Tyvek suits last month and proceeded to poison the pond, killing six adult fish and 1,000 spawn.

Beyond Maryland, two other states -- California and Florida -- have found reproducing populations of the fish in their waters. Maine, Massachusetts, Rhode Island and Hawaii also have caught individual snakeheads. Hence the nationwide ban, announced at yesterday's congressional hearing.

As the hearing droned, and four of 14 members of the U.S. House subcommittee listened to a panel of scientists describe the grandiose threat that invasive species such as the snakehead pose, people sneaked out of the blue hearing room in the Longworth House Office Building.

They were all headed to the room next door, where two pickled snakeheads -- a baby in a jar and a 14-inch brown adult in an oversized sandwich bag -- lay on a table.

It was like a carnival sideshow, except everyone was dressed in dark suits and heels. And as they lined up to see the snakeheads, their reactions ranged from the articulate -- "That's ugly" -- to the visceral -- "Ew."

One man -- apparently surprised to see that such a small specimen was responsible for weeks of breathless, zealous media coverage -- asked, "That's the snakehead?"

Came the answer: That's the snakehead.