On a windswept morning along the Pembrokeshire coast, a line of buoys drifts gently where others might expect fishing gear. But beneath the surface, something remarkable stirs.
From those buoys hang tendrils of kelp, clusters of mussels, cages of scallops and oysters—all woven together into an underwater garden that is changing how we think about food, nature, and community.
This is Câr-y-Môr, Wales’s first community-owned regenerative sea farm, and it may be a modest beginning through which Wales begins to reclaim its old maritime culture while forging a new sustainable future.
From Sketch To Sea
When François Beyers first brought the idea of 3D ocean farming to Welsh regulators, he sketched it on napkins. Today, that concept floats just off the Pembrokeshire coastline, largely unseen by passersby—but vital. “It’s what’s below that’s important,” he says.
Suspended below, seaweed and shellfish grow side by side—each species helping the others, in a model known as integrated multi-trophic aquaculture (IMTA). Seaweed absorbs nutrients and carbon; shellfish filter water and add structure. Together they build habitat, boost biodiversity, and regenerate marine environments.
Since its founding in 2020, Câr-y-Môr has grown to about three hectares—with ambitions to reach 13. It has 14 full-time employees and some 300 community members, nearly 100 of whom have invested in its community-benefit society.
One milestone came in 2024, when the project secured a £1.1 million grant from the U.K. Government’s Seafood Fund to build an onshore processing hub—planned to convert seaweed into sustainable fertiliser, among other products.
Yet even before the money came, the farm was already reshaping life beneath the waves. “We’ve seen more gannets diving, porpoises and seals returning,” Beyers notes.
A Seaweed Superpower For Wales
If oceans are Wales’s greatest natural resource, seaweed may turn out to be its hidden superpower. In 2024, Derek Walker, Wales’s Future Generations Commissioner, celebrated the potential of the seaweed sector—and pushed for a long-term plan.
He pointed out that 50% of Wales’s marine area could be suitable for kelp cultivation, projecting an industry worth £105 million and a thousand jobs.
This bold vision is not merely speculative. In March 2025, Câr-y-Môr launched a crowdfunding drive. Plans included leasing a disused RNLI station to launch a hatchery, expand trials of seaweed biostimulants to support farming on land, and scale community-led seaweed farms. So far, membership has grown to 500, with a turnover around £300,000 and 20 year-round jobs.
Meanwhile, the Welsh Government has opened more than £1.4 million in support for marine and aquaculture ventures, signaling growing institutional backing.
On the environmental side, WWF UK secured nearly £1 million in National Lottery funding to partner with Câr-y-Môr and other local groups. Their goal: scale community-led seaweed farming in Pembrokeshire, monitor biodiversity, and integrate seaweed into the local blue economy.
Lessons From The Ocean: Wales In Global Context
Câr-y-Môr is not alone in exploring ocean farming. The model draws on ideas pioneered by GreenWave, a nonprofit that developed the 3D ocean farming concept—stacking ropes of seaweed, nets of shellfish, and cages on the seabed. GreenWave has helped replicate this model from the U.S. to Brazil, and championed it as a regenerative overlay to marine ecosystems.
A 2017 Reuters report on Bren Smith, GreenWave’s founder, describes how he turned from fishing to stacking seaweed ropes, shellfish nets and cage systems to grow a mixed farm that requires “zero input”—no fertilizer, feed, or freshwater input.
The wider academic and practice-based literature posits that if just 0.03% of global ocean surface were farmed using IMTA, the effects could be transformational—offering jobs, capturing carbon, restoring marine life, and opening new food sources.
In the U.K., seaweed-based experiments are underway. In eastern England, trials are exploring seaweed biostimulants—derived from farmed kelp—to reduce synthetic fertiliser use, capture nutrients, and heal soils.
In Wales, meanwhile, the aquaculture sector is still in its infancy. A recent feature in Fish Farmer Magazine noted that Wales has just one licensed seaweed farm, one not yet fully operational, and one hatchery on Anglesey.
Navigating Risks And Resistance
The promise is vast—but challenges remain.
➧ Regulation is a hurdle: In Wales and across the UK, licensing for marine farms has historically proceeded cautiously. The regulators’ stance has made early operations slow and bureaucratically heavy.
➧ Scale and capital remain barriers: To break even, Câr-y-Môr must expand to 13 hectares and diversify its outputs. Until then, grants and community investment sustain the project.
➧ Community buy-in is essential: The founders stress that success depends on collaboration, not imposition. “You need to work with the community rather than forcing yourself in,” says Tracey Gilbert-Falconer, funding and outreach manager at Câr-y-Môr.
➧ Science is still emerging: Seaweed carbon sequestration, nutrient uptake, and long-term ecological interactions are active fields of research. Results are promising but often provisional.
➧ Agricultural runoff pressures demand systemic change: The health of coastal waters is tied to land-based farming. In Wales, many rivers and marine protected areas suffer due to agricultural pollution—a challenge for both regulators and farmers.
Beneath The Waves, Stories Of Hope
Imagine a school of young fish weaving through strands of seaweed; imagine oysters filtering water to clarity; imagine sea farmers pulling up lines each day, a harvest that feeds inland farms and coastal towns alike. That’s the world Câr-y-Môr and its peers are knitting.
For François Beyers, this journey has been “humbling,” yet unmistakably hopeful: “I haven’t seen the limit yet,” he smiles.
Across Wales, in coastal villages and inland farms, conversations are stirring: what if we could farm the sea as gently as we farm the land? What if the sea became both protector and provider, nurturing both nature and people?
That possibility is no longer speculative. It’s unfolding in underwater gardens, in networks of ropes and nets, in community meetings, and above all, in waves that whisper new futures. May we listen—and dive in.
