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One Scary, Mysterious Microbe

Scientists Lean Toward Caution in Debate Over Pfiesteria

By Joby Warrick and David Brown

Washington Post Staff Writers

Thursday, September 18, 1997; Page A01

The Washington Post

This much is well documented: When humans have close encounters with the toxic microbe Pfiesteria piscicida, strange things seem to happen.

Some people complain of nausea and memory loss. Others develop sores. One North Carolina biologist, after working with pfiesteria in a laboratory, lost all feeling in his legs and had to crawl from the room.

But was it pfiesteria, hysteria or something else? That's the question being debated by scientists after the microbe has sickened and killed fish in Chesapeake Bay tributaries. Although scientific studies have documented the microbe's lethal ways with fish, researchers are barely beginning to understand how it affects humans.

Opposing opinions have led to sharply different policies in Maryland and Virginia. Maryland has been cautious, closing waterways and reporting yesterday that pfiesteria exposure can cause people to develop chronic memory problems. [Details, Page D1.] Virginia has gone the opposite way, leaving open the Rappahannock River after sick fish were found there.

It may be months or even years before scientists can say who is right. But a consensus is beginning to emerge among scientists about what should be done in the meantime: When dealing with an organism as unpredictable as pfiesteria, they say, it's best to err on the side of caution.

"I think Maryland's being smart," said Don Anderson, a scientist at Woods Hole Oceanographic Institution in Massachusetts and the director of the newly formed National Office for Marine Biotoxins and Harmful Algae.

"You're very likely to get people alarmed when you take a step like this, and that is a big drawback," he said. "But you need to bite the bullet and do it if there's some genuine risk. . . . To do nothing would be irresponsible."

That view, however, is not universal. And even those who advocate caution don't always agree on what the term means. To some North Carolina scientists who have been tracking pfiesteria (pronounced fis-TEER-ee-ya) attacks for years, it means closing waterways only when fish are dying or sick in large numbers.

"If you have a few fish with lesions, there's probably not enough pfiesteria around to cause a problem," said B.J. Copeland, a marine ecologist at North Carolina State University.

He added, "That's what we call a SWAG -- a scientific wild-assed guess."

His approach is only somewhat more interventionist than that of Virginia, which has left the Rappahannock open even after samples in which one-half to three-quarters of fish had pfiesteria-like lesions.

Others, particularly those personally acquainted with pfiesteria's toxic effects, believe the line should be drawn much sooner. Howard Glasgow is one of three N.C. State scientists who became ill in 1992 after working with a large batch of pfiesteria's toxic secretions.

"I personally don't care if it's pfiesteria or some acid that someone dumped in the water. If you have fish that are literally dissolving away, you can extrapolate that you don't want be swimming there," Glasgow said.

Glasgow said his exposure left him virtually disabled for months. Like many others who were exposed, he suffered a wide range of physical and neurological symptoms, including dizziness and memory loss. After the 1992 episode, Glasgow's lab was shut down for more than a year. It eventually was reopened as a high-security "biohazard" facility where workers wear respirators and protective suits.

Glasgow and his boss, aquatic botanist JoAnn Burkholder, pioneered much of the early scientific research on pfiesteria. They documented the microbe's bizarre 24-stage life cycle, which

enables it to change within hours from a

harmless blob of amoeba to a lethal whip-tailed microorganism. In its killer stage, pfiesteria attacks fish with an arsenal of powerful toxins that disrupt the nervous system and cause the skin to slough off.

Later laboratory tests confirmed that pfiesteria's toxins can cause neurological problems in rats. But while pfiesteria's human "victims" have reported similar symptoms, finding hard evidence in the lab has been problematic.

A controversial study this year by East Carolina Unversity found no conclusive evidence that pfiesteria was causing any of the illnesses reported by fishermen and others who work in pfiesteria-infested waters. Some state officials suggested that the symptoms were caused by other pathogens or that a kind of mass hysteria was at work. Some of the state's marine scientists have even questioned whether pfiesteria is responsible for the state's massive fish kills in recent years.

Burkholder dismisses those questions, citing a sizable body of laboratory studies documenting pfiesteria's rapid lethality with dozens of species of fish and shellfish. Throughout the scientific community, prominent scientists who know Burkholder's work say she makes a compelling case.

"It's something out of Stephen King novel," said Sandra Shumway, a shellfish biologist at Long Island University's Southampton College, who became a believer after witnessing a pfiesteria attack on shellfish tissue in her lab. "Pfiesteria is an organism that should be taken very, very seriously."

But in sorting out the truth about pfiesteria's effects on humans, scientists are hampered by a dearth of data. To date, the clearest description of what appears to be poisoning by pfiesteria toxin comes from the report of the three N.C. State people who became ill while working with samples of the organism in a research laboratory.

The exposure came both from direct skin contact with water in which pfiesteria was growing and from breathing air that apparently contained pfiesteria toxin. The water contained pfiesteria in greatly varying concentrations, and in all three cases, there was repeated exposure to the organism.

Among the numerous symptoms were numbness and tingling of the hands and feet, disorientation, problems with memory and thinking, mood changes, difficulties breathing and skin sores.

In a strict scientific sense, however, those cases cannot be tied to pfiesteria -- nor can the far less certain ones reported by a handful of North Carolina and Maryland watermen exposed outdoors. To do that, scientists will have to isolate the responsible toxin (or toxins) and identify it in water or air. Although purifying pfiesteria toxin and developing a lab test for it are the objects of intensive research, neither has been accomplished to date.

In a study done at Duke University Medical Center, rats injected with whole pfiesteria cells showed mild impairment in their ability to learn a new skill. It did not have discernible effects on memory, although the toxicologist who did the research, Edward D. Levin, did not rule out the possibility the organism could have such effects in people.

There are about 1,200 species of dinoflagellates -- the scientific name for the class of swimming microorganisms that includes pfiesteria -- but only a few dozen produce toxins. Pfiesteria appears to be the only one that intentionally releases its toxin as a means of attacking prey. With other toxic dinoflagellates, poisoning usually occurs when shellfish or fin fish consume the microorganisms, concentrating the toxins. Then people can become ill by eating the fish; it is not known whether people can become ill from eating fish afflicted by pfiesteria.

Pfiesteria produces two classes of toxins. One is water soluble and appears to be responsible for the nervous system effects. The other is soluble in fat and is responsible for causing the skin ulcerations seen on fish. It is possible that several variants of each type of toxin exist. Neither class has been isolated in enough quantity to allow scientists to determine its chemical structure.

A crucial step in evaluating a poison is determining how little of it is necessary to cause sickness or, put another way, how much of it is safe. This will not be known for pfiesteria until the toxin is isolated. At the moment, scientists also do not know what concentration of the organism in the water is hazardous.

"It is really critical to understand the `dose-response' relationship," said John Ramsdell, a toxicologist at the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's marine toxins program in Charleston, S.C. "What that will do is allow us to determine the risk for individuals. Until we have that, most everything will be anecdotal."

Anderson, the Woods Hole scientist, said the issue of marine toxins and human health is a huge, but barely recognized, one in the United States.

Virtually all 33,000 miles of Alaskan coastline have been closed to shellfish harvesting for decades because there isn't the money to do widespread monitoring of toxins. "Red tides" caused by blooms of toxic microorganisms periodically close sections of the East Coast from Maine to Florida.

"We have been trying for years to get the entire country to take this toxic algae more seriously. All of a sudden pfiesteria hits near Washington, and millions of dollars are flowing," Anderson said. "I used to joke that to get some attention, we would have to turn the Reflecting Pool [on the Mall] red, and this has just about done it."

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