Today it’s known as the Boo McCulley Reef. Then, on November 18, 2025, it was deliberately sunk. The 227-foot ship, named the Borocho, is now on the seafloor about nine miles off Martin County, according to a Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission (FWC) news release .
An abandoned freighter sat in the Miami River for a decade. Here’s how an old ship got a second life.
Sinking a ship does not guarantee more fish. Scientists have long wondered whether artificial reefs produce new fish or simply attract existing fish. The paper uses a simple spatial simulation to show that attraction is not automatically bad: when fish moved from a natural reef to an artificial reef, catch per unit effort (CPUE) for reef-resident fish fell in most scenarios and rose only when the natural reef was nine times larger than the artificial one. For reef-associated pelagic (open-water) fish, it rose in almost all scenarios. Some attraction could also make fish harder to catch if it spread them more evenly. The authors also note that reef size, distance from natural reef, and relative reef quality all shape the outcome, so the same reef can look harmful or beneficial depending on the local layout and the fish species involved. The paper notes that a new reef might be a better refuge, and this could increase fish growth or survival. So the picture is complicated. Those are goals, and it will take time to measure results. The agency describes its Artificial Reef Program as one of the nation’s most extensive and active, working with coastal governments, nonprofits, and academic institutions to monitor and assess reefs. Still, the story shows how an old problem can be a new home for sea life.
A 2015 study by Smith, Lowry and Suthers published in Ecology and Evolution explains why the question is so tricky. Because the two processes are difficult to distinguish, the authors note that the debate continues.
The FWC says the Boo McCulley Reef would provide marine habitat, boost local fish populations, and create new opportunities for fishing and diving.
The freighter’s former owner let it deteriorate, and it remained in the Miami River for 10 years, the release states. It now sits almost 200 feet below the surface, about nine miles off the St. The FWC’s listing for the reef gives a depth of 180 feet, so the two figures differ by about 20 feet. It marks the southernmost part of a fishing corridor more than 1.14 nautical miles long, established in 2002 in the Sirotkin permitted area.
The Borocho was not built to be a reef. After a derelict vessel investigation, the agency contracted Resolve Marine Group, Inc. to remediate, relocate, and reef the ship. The work was funded by the FWC’s Derelict Vessel program in partnership with Martin County Environmental Resources. The sinking happened quickly. Crews cut holes in the vessel’s sides so water could rush in. The Borocho was fully submerged within about an hour. Lucie Inlet. Cost was a big reason. Turning the vessel into an artificial reef was the least expensive way to dispose of it, and cheaper than land-based disposal, the agency noted. This meant big savings for the derelict vessel program. The program, which helps state, county, and local agencies pay to remove derelict vessels, is funded by the Florida Legislature. Safety counts here, too. The release also points out that leaving a vessel in derelict condition is a crime . Ships that are sinking, grounded, stripped, or missing vital systems can put both people and Florida’s natural resources at risk. The reef was a team project. The release credits a collaborative effort between FWC Law Enforcement, Martin County, and the agency’s Artificial Reef Program. The reef also extends something that already exists. This area is used by local recreational anglers for reef fish like mackerel, amberjack, and snapper.
It’s named for John “Boo” McCulley, who, through his company McCulley Marine, was an integral part of building artificial reefs in Florida waters for more than two decades.
