The Accidental Caviar King

The most coveted fish eggs in the world aren’t produced in Russia. They’re made in China—by Bill Holst, a Wisconsin scrapyard operator.

- Chloe Sorvino

A long State Road 35 on the Wisconsin side of the Mississippi River, there is a junkyard filled with old boats, cars and refrigerators, where 20,000 pounds of aluminum gets melted down every day. A handwritten sign tacked onto the front door reminds all those who enter: Put Shirts On. Inside sits Bill Holst, the 69-year-old blue-jeaned, third-generation corn farmer who started this scrap-metal business 12 years ago. “I see value in things that other people don’t see value in,” he says. “I’m more of a risk-taker.”

All of which explains one of Holst’s more exotic businesses: Hangzhou Qiandaohu Xunlong Sci-Tech, a sprawling sturgeon farm and caviar processing company based 7,000 miles away at a man-made lake in eastern China. Hangzhou is now the largest caviar company in the world: It controls 30 percent of the global market and will bring in an estimated $35 million in revenue this year. That scale, combined with low labour costs and high retail prices—an ounce can cost upwards of $150—gives the company an estimated 25 percent profit margin. Holst owns about 24 percent of the joint venture and is its single largest (and only American) investor.

What makes Holst one of the most successful caviar entrepreneurs in the world is that he also owns some of Hangzhou’s competitors. For two decades, he has operated farms in Hungary and Germany and sold the caviar under the brand Desietra. With more modest prices, his European businesses brought in $8 million last year.