A legacy of research

Support grows for turning marine station into a research center that reflects beliefs of UMass scientist

The University of Massachusetts marine station, a 7-acre seaside property in Gloucester, shut its doors after the death of longtime director Herbert O. Hultin (below left) last December. (Matthew J. Lee/Globe Staff)

GLOUCESTER - For nearly 30 years, Herbert O. Hultin studied fish proteins from a creaky marine station overlooking the bay in this quintessential fishing town. Bands of devoted graduate students by his side, the University of Massachusetts at Amherst scientist quietly pioneered advances in the field of food biochemistry, his meticulous research as persistent as the tides.

So when Hultin died in December, it seemed only fitting that the weather-beaten marine laboratory on the tip of a granite peninsula die with him, colleagues said.

"It was all built around him," said Stephen Kelleher, a renowned food chemist who worked with Hultin. "No one ever expected it would keep going without him here."

Now, Hultin's death has prompted a long-deferred debate about the future of the 7-acre seaside property, which has fallen into neglect over the years. State and local officials envision the manmade pier - which, with its panoramic views of Gloucester Harbor, is valued at $2.2 million - as a state-of-the-art marine research center and popular tourist attraction featuring public access to the waterfront.

While discussions are just beginning, support is growing for a new complex that builds on Hultin's legacy and reflects his belief in research with practical and commercial uses. Local officials also see the property as part of a broader campaign to revitalize the city's waterfront.

For those who knew Hultin and wish to honor his work, the campaign is as personal as it is pragmatic.

"I think it has the potential to be a world-class marine facility," said Bruce Tarr, a state senator from Gloucester. "I don't want to see Herb's legacy die, and I think the station can be transformed into something great. I really see a renaissance for this property."

Tarr said a new facility could host scientists from UMass-Amherst, Salem State College, and the state's marine fisheries agency, which he said is seeking additional space. With waterfront land scarce, sites for marine research are at a premium, he said.

"These opportunities don't come along often," he said.

Local officials say the property holds great potential to draw visitors to the waterfront.

"It's just too beautiful of a site to leave as it is," said Sarah Buck, Gloucester's community development director, who said the town is interested in the research facility plan. "You can't wall off the water."

UMass officials said they are open to the idea of sharing the facility and are discussing the property with several potential partners. They caution that talks are in the early stages, but say a new facility would feature a broader range of research, probably involving marine aquaculture.

Plans are largely on hold until the incoming chancellor at UMass-Amherst, Robert Holub, arrives early next month.

That the future of a once-productive research facility would hang in the balance after the death of one man, even a professor considered a founding father of food biochemistry, seems surprising. But university officials said that Hultin, who died at age 73 of pancreatic cancer, had almost single-handedly kept the laboratory going with his reputation and resolve. He funded it by landing millions in research grants, and staffed it with graduate students drawn by the prospect of breakthroughs. Companies spun off, and patents were secured.

"It was a little beehive of activity," said Kelleher, who is now a food chemist with Proteus Industries in Gloucester. "A lot of people didn't understand what was going in that little place, but the work there wound up being presented in conferences around the world."

The laboratory that once buzzed with scientific debate deep into the night stands silent, a stoic sentinel quietly surveying Hodgkins Cove. Once shrouded in mystery, the object of local speculation, now it is simply a ramshackle complex well past its prime.

Grass sprouts from cracks in the paved driveway that leads to the research center, its dingy, pale-blue walls peeling from years of driving rain storms. The driveway gives way to an overgrown expanse of brush and weeds that slopes down to the water's edge, where sailboats pass on their way to the harbor and beyond.

Hultin specialized in the safety and quality of fish processing and analyzed the biochemistry of muscle tissue and the effects of lipid oxidation to find ways to make seafood healthier and less perishable. The research subjects were usually donated by fishermen, free of charge. They would even deliver them, eager to have their catch serve a greater cause.

"Herb was very gregarious and had a great knack for interacting with people in the industry," said Steve Goodwin, dean of the UMass College of Natural Resources and the Environment. "He let the concerns of the industry drive his research questions."

Goodwin said the university purchased the property in the late 1970s to establish a presence on the water, and Hultin jumped at the opportunity to study in a port. Although isolated from his peers, he created a program prolific enough to justify its offbeat existence for years.

"We would never create a program like that today," he said. "It was a unique person and unique situation. From the 1970s on, the program basically revolved around him. So we've known for a while this day would come."

Tarr, who used to visit the facility on occasion when it was humming with activity, said it was as eclectic and vibrant as Hultin.

"There were lots of different experiments all going on at once, and Herb was the hub the spokes ran off," he said. "It was sort of a mystical place, with all kinds of interesting things with all different kids of fish. But that's passed, and now it can be even more."

Correction: Because of a reporting error, a story on the front of Monday's City & Region section about the future of a University of Massachusetts marine station in Gloucester incorrectly described the view from the site. It looks out over Ipswich Bay.