All story images courtesy of Ed Deane, except where noted.

One does not expect to encounter a gold-spotted acanthophyllia in a San Jose strip mall. But the colorful and unusual Indonesian coral (a handball-sized specimen can retail for as much as $1,350) sits tucked into a tank at Clear Water Aquarium on Saratoga Ave, right between a warehouse and a Vietnamese pho shop.

Aquarist Ed Deane, an expert at the craft of growing corals in saltwater aquariums, reaches into the water and points to the specimen. It looks like a psychedelic cupcake. “Acanthophyllia are not particularly rare,” says Deane, “But the coloration this one has, you’re not going to see very often.”

Oceanographer Silvia Earle once described coral reefs as “a jeweled belt around the middle of the planet.” My own understanding of them is rudimentary. I know they are “colonial” and “sessile” (i.e., staying in one place) organisms, composed of fragile little animals called polyps that excrete calcium carbonate to form distinctive, sculpture-like shapes. The truth, as always, is more nuanced.

“We typically break down corals into four categories,” says Deane. The first two types are soft corals, with no hard skeleton whatsoever. “Those are never going to be the coral you see displayed on a mantelpiece, because when they die, they rot. The coral skeletons that you do see are going to be either what we call SPS—‘small polyp stony’—or LPS, ‘large polyp stony.’” And ‘stony,’ he clarifies, just means ‘skeleton.’

Until my visit to Clear Water, almost all the living corals I’d seen, soft or stony, were part of wild reefs. Some of the most beautiful were in Indonesia, especially in the bathwater-warm waters of Bunaken National Marine Park, off the northern coast of Sulawesi. But my appreciation of these corals had always been tinged with alarm. Climate disruption is warming the world’s oceans, bleaching whole reefs, and killing the tiny creatures that build their calcium branches. Cruise ships and beachfront hotels are also contributing to reef destruction—and the trade in beautiful corals, living and dead, is another destructive trend.

I was surprised to learn, then, that while Indonesia remains a major coral exporter—the trade represents a staggering 30 percent of the nation’s GDP—the country has also become one of its most dedicated protectors.

“I like to get stuff from Indonesia,” says Deane, “because they’re very, very environmentally conscious. It’s outrageously important to that country.”

Most of the coral exported from Indonesia is farmed in the sea, using a process called mariculture. “They’ll take a small piece from the wild,” explains Deane, “and grow it into a large colony on giant tables in shallow water—oftentimes in beaches or lagoons reserved specifically for the trade.”

These coral farms are sort of like oyster beds—”but for every piece that they harvest, they have to replant some into its native environment.”

Deane’s fascination with fish started when he was a kid, and expanded to include corals while he was at UC Davis studying sustainable agriculture and natural resources. He lived two blocks from a fish store at the time. “I was into growing plants. Then I saw a beautifully planted fish tank and I’m like, I didn’t know you could do that underwater.”

Deane spent so much time at the store that they offered him a job. He ended up managing the place. After he got married, he and his partner, Sudha, moved to San Jose, where he set up a business in their garage, growing and selling coral.

“After about a year and a half, with about twenty fish tanks in our house, my wife said, ‘Dude, get out of the garage. Do it for real.’ That was seven years ago, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Clear Water Aquarium has more than 60 tanks, many of them glowing under umbras of coral-friendly blue light. Deane shows me his favorites; their vivid colors remind me of my old collection of Hot Wheels cars. “Most of the corals you’re going to see in the hobby world are corals you would see in the ocean. But if you were to go diving, it’s never going to look nearly as bright as these do.” A big part of this, he explains, is illumination.

“The lighting alone can be outrageously expensive because most coral are photosynthetic, so you have to get the right spectrum and right intensity.”

Hard or soft, corals can be as finicky as bonsai. Nurturing them requires an exact balance of lighting, temperature, filtration, flow, and mineral content. Saltwater is a complicated soup, and how well corals grow depends on its traces of magnesium and calcium, as well as factors like alkalinity and salinity. Even the tank’s rockscape—usually dead coral—is critical. Though it’s dead, “we call it live rock,” explains Deane, “because it’s got beneficial bacteria that grow in the porosity of that rock, which helps with the filtration of the tank.”

Then there’s the question of fish. You probably want fish in your tank—but not all are “reef-safe.” Most clownfish and wrasse are okay; they’re not going to nip on coral. “The bad news,” declares the Bulk Reef Supply website, “is some of the most colorful and stunning angelfish can wreak havoc on a reef tank. Even ones that are considered reef-safe can one day decide they like the taste of your most prized corals.”

Soft corals are typically easier to cultivate, as they tolerate a wider range of parameters and tend to grow more quickly—whereas hard corals require more specialized lighting, and cleaner water with more flow and a higher mineral content. Either way, it’s not a cheap investment.

“By the time you get the tank, the stand, the light, the sand, the water, the heater, and everything you need, it’s about a thousand dollars.” (Freshwater aquaria, Deane adds, are far less expensive.)

Deane is the first to admit that a mom-and-pop fish store like Clear Water is not a big moneymaker. “Overhead is outrageously high. My rent is enormous, and so is our electrical consumption.” Eighty percent of the reason he’s here, Deane says, is to coach kids into the hobby. “Twenty years ago, there were about a dozen fish stores in this area,” he says. “Now we have two.”

Most people who try to raise corals fail due to impatience: adding too much too quickly, or trying to grow types of coral they’re not able to sustain. That’s why it’s important to have an Ed Deane around—someone who can coach younger people through the journey and guide them through the complex craft of coral husbandry.

“Otherwise,” he says, “It’ll be a giant failure. And for a young kid, that makes a huge impression. When you get your first pets and they die within a week, you’re never going to want to do it again.”

That same kind of carelessness, on a planetary scale, is what’s endangering the world’s wild corals, and causing whole reefs to fail. But I see a note of hope: Might the world’s corals be saved, paradoxically, by ethical collectors?

“I can’t state all the environmental factors going on,” says Deane, “but with mariculture corals, which are not pulled out of the wild population, you definitely have less habitat destruction.”

But even those cultivated corals, of course, have to live in the same warming ocean.

As I head next door for a Vietnamese banh mi, I’m encouraged again by the words of Dr. Sylvia Earle: “Half the coral reefs are still in pretty good shape,” she contends. “There’s still time, but not a lot, to turn things around.”

My hope—as always in these situations—is that people in love with the craft and rewards of growing coral will be its strongest advocates.

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For information about protecting our coral reefs, please visit the Coral Reef Alliance.