When I was down in Washington last week, speaking with
legislative staff about fisheries issues, I was privileged to share some
meetings with Holly Andreotta, Director of the Florida-based Snook and Gamefish
Foundation.
The Foundation has been around for a while. It has made a very big effort to bring
anglers into the fishery management process, encouraging them to self-report
their catches, thus providing far more data points than the National Marine
Fisheries Service and state agencies would be able to collect on their
own.
The effort has borne real fruit, which takes the form of a
smartphone “app” that allows anglers to record their landings in real
time. I’ve always been cynical about
self-reporting by anglers, believing that too many fishermen would either
report their catches selectively or make bogus reports in an attempt to
manipulate the system, but I have to admit that the Foundation’s successes to
date have made me rethink my position.
When anglers’ voluntary reports were compared to NMFS’
figures for some commonly-encountered Florida species, the numbers were pretty
close to the same. A lot of other folks
seem impressed, too, as a somewhat amended version of the Foundation’s basic
app is now being used by Coastal Conservation Association Florida’s STAR
Tournament, and in other tournaments being staged anywhere from the Gulf of
Mexico to Chesapeake Bay.
But what really impressed me wasn’t Ms. Andreotta’s app, but
the comments she made in a number of meetings with congressional staff, as she
repeatedly pointed out that we should manage fisheries for future generations,
not merely for those fishing today.
She admitted that the words were not originally hers, but were
borrowed from a writer she had recently read.
But that didn’t matter, because her obvious conviction that those words
were right—not to mention the fact that they were—overrode all origin
questions. Whoever first put them on
paper, it was clear that they're scribed on her heart.
It’s not an original notion. Here in New York, the statute that sets the
state policy for managing salt water fisheries, Section 13-0105 of the
Environmental Conservation Law, begins with the statement that
“It is the policy of the state that the primary principle in
managing the state’s marine fishery resource is to maintain the long-term
health and abundance of marine fisheries resources and their habitats, and to
ensure that the resources are sustained in usable abundance and diversity for
future generations.”
It sounds good in theory, but in practice, things often work
out a lot differently.
It’s very easy to talk about creating a better world for the
next generation, but the fact is that they’ll be exceedingly lucky to get a
world that is even somewhat as pleasant as the one that our ancestors handed
down to us. Leaving something for future
generations requires that folks impose a bit of discipline on themselves today,
and self-discipline is something that most members of my “Baby Boom” generation
just don’t quite understand.
Even when they decide to take action, it’s often the wrong
one.
Our politicians talk about cutting the deficit, but in the
end, few reductions are made. Money
still flows to politicians’ pet projects, creating bills that tomorrow’s
children must pay.
As CO2 rises to prehistoric levels, and worldwide
temperatures rise in accord, one
governor allegedly fires staffers who dare to speak of climate changing,
while North
Carolina law prevents coastal managers from basing their policies on the best
available science about rising oceans.
Yet temperatures increase despite politicians’ denial, and the Outer
Banks keep losing sand. Mitch
McConnell may rail against the “War on Coal,” but coal’s war on the future
goes on.
So we shouldn’t be surprised when fisheries issues show the
same pattern.
Today’s campaign to roll back federal fisheries measures is
just one more example of self-indulgent Baby Boomers—the same folks, now
considerably grayer, who coined the phrase “He who dies with the most toys,
wins” a few decades ago—taking as much as they can for themselves, while
letting their kids and their grandkids pick up the bill.
I suppose that it makes some twisted sense to cut the red
snapper recovery off at the knees, when you don’t know if you’ll still be
fishing—or even alive—when the stock’s fully recovered in 2032.
On the other hand, some of us older folks get it, and don’t
want our legacy to be a mostly empty and overfished sea. And I’m happy to note that a lot of the
younger anglers are a lot more aware of the future than the generations who went
before.
My friend John McMurray is a perfect example. A light-tackle guide on western Long Island,
he was rightfully bragging when his twin children—one girl and one boy—decked a
pair of summer flounder a few years ago.
They were quality fish; as I recall, one went close to six pounds, and
with the other just a bit smaller, the fish were almost certainly older than
the four-year-old kids who engineered their demise.
But John did a bit more than just brag; photos of his kids
and their fish went with him to Washington where, while testifying before a
Senate committee on the need for strong fisheries laws, he held them up to
illustrate just what successful fisheries management looked like—and who was
getting a chance to reap its benefits.
I don’t understand why others don’t get it.
There is someone I know—he’s much younger
than me—who has a son who’s three or four years old. The man dotes on the boy; when I see photos
he puts up on Facebook of him on his boat with his son, I get flashbacks of how
it was with my father and me, fifty and some years ago.
My father and I caught winter flounder; we caught them in
the spring, in the summer and fall. I’d
be surprised if the son of the guy I’m describing has yet caught his first
flounder, and the way the population’s collapsing, there’s a good chance that
he never will. Yet his father seems
oblivious; so far, when flounder issues arise, he’s always opposed conservation. On other fisheries issues, his position’s no
different; he supports the greatest possible kill.
I have to admit that I can’t understand it. Sure, short-term profits are fine (and the
guy is an industry spokesman), but I can’t comprehend how someone who so
obviously cherishes his son can so casually condemn him to a depleted and less
diverse sea.
Because that’s what the debate’s all about.
Should we take as much as we can for ourselves, maximizing
our harvest and profits, but leaving our issue with nothing but dregs?
For Gulf red snapper anglers, New England trawlers and “flexibility”
supporters on every coast, the answer would seem to be yes.
And that answer is certainly wrong.
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