About
two weeks ago, the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission’s Atlantic
Striped Bass Mangement Board adopted Addendum VI to Amendment 6 to the
Interstate Fishery Management Plan for Atlantic Striped Bass, a management
measure intended to end overfishing and reduce fishing mortality to the target
level, and incidentally to rebuild the striped bass spawning stock—although
not within the
10-year deadline prescribed in the management plan.
Addendum VI includes four major provisions. It requires both the recreational and
commercial sectors to reduce fishing mortality by 18 percent. To achieve such reduction, it requires all
coastal states to adopt recreational regulations that include a 1-fish bag
limit and a 28 to 35-inch slot limit, and requires all Chesapeake Bay jurisdictions
to adopt recreational regulations that include the same 1-fish bag and an 18-inch
minimum size. And to reduce release
mortality, it requires all states to adopt regulations that would mandate
circle hooks for all anglers fishing with bait for striped bass.
That seems pretty cut-and-dried.
But then the Management Board did one other
thing: It adopted a provision that
allows every member state to ignore the size and bag limits included in
Addendum VI in favor of regulations of such state’s choosing, provided that in
doing so, the state managed to achieve an 18 percent reduction in its own striped bass
fishing mortality, compared to what such mortality was in 2017.
By adopting that conservation equivalency provision, the
Management Board didn’t exactly take everything back to Square One, as an 18
percent reduction is still required. But
it did compromise Addendum VI’s effectiveness, and it assured that today, less
than six months from the effective date of the Addendum, anglers all along the
striper coast still have no idea of what regulations will look like in the
upcoming year.
Having said that, I know what I’d like to see.
Since I’ve always made my opinion on slots very clear, it
might surprise folks to learn that I now believe that the best thing that could
happen would be for every coastal state to adopt the same 28 to 35-inch slot that the Management Board adopted in Addendum VI.
That belief doesn’t mean that I’ve experienced some sudden
enlightenment, and have now become an acolyte worshipping at the slot limit’s
altar. In fact, it means nothing of the
sort. I still believe that a 35-inch minimum was the right way to go.
But the Management Board felt otherwise, and there is now no
chance at all that a 35-inch minimum will be adopted coastwide. And it’s that truth that drives my current
belief.
I still think that a slot limit will focus fishing pressure,
and harvest, on the very year classes that we need to rebuild the spawning
stock. I still believe that it will
result in fewer fish surviving to reach older ages, and that the stock will be
in greater jeopardy, and recover more slowly, as a result.
But I also think that a situation in which some states adopt
the Addendum VI slot, some states adopt a 35-inch minimum, and some states
adopt some other set of supposedly “conservation equivalent” regulations
represents the worst of all worlds.
Think about it.
The supposed virtue of a slot limit is that it protects the
oldest, largest and most fecund females in the spawning stock, although perhaps
at the cost of higher removals of recently matured females. And the virtue of a high minimum size is that
it allows bass recruited into the spawning stock to reproduce at least two or
three times before they become subject to harvest.
But if we end up in a situation where some states adopt a
28 to 35-inch slot, while others adopt a 35-inch minimum size, both of those
benefits disappear. The states with the slot
will be allowed to hammer the newly-mature females as they run the 28 to
35-inch gauntlet. And just as those fish
grow large enough to be immune to harvest in the slot-limit states, they grow
large enough to be killed in wholesale numbers as they swim into the waters of those states that adopted a 35-inch minimum.
For the bass, it’s a lose-lose proposition, as fish over 28
inches long will always remain unprotected somewhere along the course of their
coastwide migration.
Given that situation, the priority is no longer putting in a
35-inch minimum somewhere, to protect striped bass in a particular state, but
to adopt uniform regulations everywhere so that some portion of the spawning
stock bass actually is protected wherever they happen to swim, throughout the course of the year.
Unfortunately, conservation equivalency makes even that
modest aim a goal that is unlikely to be achieved.
I
discussed the reason for that a little over a week ago, too. The 18 percent reduction is based on a
coastwide standard. However, the slot
limit adopted in Addendum VI will have different impacts in different states. Some states, which see a lot of smaller fish,
but few large ones, might experience a very small real-world reduction. On the other hand,
there are estimates that New Jersey, which lands more recreationally-caught
striped bass than any other state on the coast, would experience about a 40
percent reduction if the slot was adopted.
Thus, it seems likely that New Jersey will adopt some other
regulatory scheme that will allow it to reduce fishting mortality by only 18
percent—less than half the reduction that New Jersey needs to make if Addendum
VI is to successfully reduce fishing mortality to the target level.
Addendum VI started out with only a 50 percent probability
of success; that’s not as bad as it sounds, because what it means is that there
is about an even chance that the actual fishing mortality will end up either
above or below the target level.
But if the largest striped bass harvester on the coast
intentionally refuses to make the cuts needed to achieve Addendum VI’s goals,
and instead adopts regulations that cut mortality by less than half of the
amount needed, then Addendum VI will no longer have a 50% probability of
success. At that point, the probability
curve will be skewed toward failure, with a much greater chance that the actual
reduction will fall short of 18 percent.
So, once again, the need is for uniformity. Unless every state accepts its responsibility
to reduce fishing mortality to the level needed to cut coastwide fishing
mortality by 18%, Addendum VI is likely to fail.
At that point, the failure of the striped bass stock might
not be far behind.
So what are the chances for such coastwide uniformity?
Probably, pretty low. There is a good chance that New York and the
New England states will stick together, as they did in 2015, and adopt
consistent regulations—almost certainly the 28 to 35-inch slot. After that, the prospects begin looking worse.
Historically, New Jersey has played the conservation
equivalency game like a master, always managing to find ways for its anglers to
kill more and smaller fish than its neighbors, regardless of the impact on the
stock.
But there have been big changes in the New Jersey governor’s
mansion since the state defied the ASMFC to adopt noncompliant recreational
summer flounder regulations in 2017, and destroyed once and for all the
regional management structure that was showing real promise to stabilize summer
flounder regulations in the New Jersey/New York/Connecticut region.
Those changes allow for at least a scintilla
of hope that the new administration, and a new salt water fisheries chief, will
lead New Jersey to a more enlightened and more cooperative approach to
fisheries management. However, that hope
must be balanced against the reality that many of New Jersey’s recreational
fishing organizations will fight tooth and claw to keep that from happening.
It's impossible to say which side will win.
Down in the Chesapeake, Virginia
has proven itself to be a leader in striped bass conservation, while its
neighbor Maryland is still seeking to reach new lows in its efforts to stave
off harvest reductions. The
talk coming out of that state is that its Department of Natural Resources
intends to make private recreational fishermen shoulder just about all of the
conservation burden, and allow the state’s watermen to conduct business as usual.
Those reports find some confirmation in a
question that Michael Luisi, a Maryland fishery manager, made at the April 2019 Management
Board meeting, when he asked,
“…if it were going to be the cast at some point that we were considering
perhaps removing the commercial fishery from being part of this addendum,
due to its, I guess size in comparison to the recreational fishery. Would it be possible then to calculate
reductions solely based on a recreational fishery; if that were going
to be what was going to take the reductions?
[emphasis added]”
Regulations that would place the entire onus of conservation
on the backs of private recreational fishermen would look quite a bit different
from the 1 fish at 18 inches adopted by the Management Board for the Chesapeake
Bay.
Of course, there was little chance that Luisi was going to
accept the 1 at 18 inch standard anyway.
He always makes a big fuss over reducing release mortality, saying at
the April meeting that
“There is a problem that exists; which was discussed in
depth back in February, and for us that problem is the dead discard issue in
the recreational fishery…
“I’m a little disappointed and slightly discouraged that we’re
sitting here talking about options to increase minimum size limits across the
board; only knowing that it’s going to exacerbate the situation that we are currently
in with dead discards being as high as they are. I really hope that those examples are just
examples of what things we could put forth in this addendum to try to be
creative in an approach to solving a problem.”
But when the Management Board handed Maryland exactly what Luisi
seemed to be looking for, an 18-inch minimum size and single-fish bag limit
that should sharply reduce release mortality, that solution wasn’t welcomed
with open arms.
Instead, Maryland has
been contemplating a combination of “conservation equivalency tools” that
appears to have been crafted either in a fever dream or during a bad acid trip,
that not would not only make anglers responsible for the entirety of the
conservation effort, but do it in a matter almost certain to fail, with measures
that can’t be easily or accurately quantified, such as prohibiting fishing for
striped bass after 10:00 during August.
But, as bizarre as the proposed measures were, they would allow Maryland anglers to kill two striped bass--at an increased size limit, of course, throughout most of the season.
The entire list, presented at a Maryland Sport Fishing
Advisory Commission meeting on October 22, is depicted here.
Hopefully, if such a hodgepodge was ever presented to the
ASMFC’s Atlantic Striped Bass Technical Committee for approval, it would be
shot down in flames. It was heartening
to hear Katie Drew, one of the ASMFC’s technical experts, say at the August Management
Board meeting that
“I would say I think the [Technical Committee] is going to be
hesitant to endorse things that are difficult to quantify. Things like educational programs or using
circle hooks, or things like that where its harder for us to say what is the actual
effect of these measures this educational approach on actually reducing release
mortality.
“Something like season limits or closed days, if you actually
close the fishery during days when temperature is too high, as opposed to just
saying, maybe don’t go fishing. That I
think the [Technical Committee] and [Plan Development Team] would be much more
open to. I think we’re focused on things
that will have a concrete, demonstrable quantitative benefit to reducing how
many fish you’re throwing back alive.”
Still, the fact that conservation equivalency makes such piecemeal
proposals even possible, and the possibility that even Maryland’s mess might be
accepted as conservationally equivalent, demonstrates why states must strive
for uniform management measures.
If states succeed in unifying behind a set of reasonable
rules, what comes next for striped bass will probably be a slow rebuilding
that, assuming average recruitment, might eventually rebuild the population.
But if the states think only of their own short-term
benefits, and not the overall health of the spawning stock, what comes next
will be more of the same: A stock that languishes
at low abundance levels, always flirting with the point where depletion, coupled
with consecutive years of below-average recruitment, could push it over the
edge from merely overfished to something far worse, full collapse.
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