Mako sharks, and in particular the shortfin makos that we
target in the East Coast shark fishery, are in serious trouble.
The
International Commission for the Conservation of Atlantic Tunas has, to date,
been unwilling to follow the scientific advice to prohibit mako landings. The United States has abandoned its
traditional role as a shark conservation advocate, voting against needed measures at both last month’s ICCAT meeting and at last
summer’s last meeting of the parties to the Convention on International Trade
in Endangered Species.
That being the case, it was heartening to see a New Jersey charter
boat association step forward and take a leadership position on mako
conservation.
The Association acknowledged the National Marine Fisheries
Service’s finding that shortfin makos are both overfished and subject to
overfishing, a finding that only confirmed Association members’ observations
that that size and numbers of the makos they encountered were on a notable
downswing.
In announcing its decision to
end the mako shark competition, the Association said that, in order for the
“mako shark be given a chance to make a comeback we have
voluntarily placed a moratorium on Make Mania.”
Offshore fishermen, as well as anyone concerned with marine
conservation, should praise the Association for that action, not just for its immediate
conservation benefits, but also for its symbolic value. Ending the mako contest will probably have negative economic implications for Association members in the short term, but they went ahead and did it anyway, placing the long-term health of the mako resource ahead of their own immediate interests.
They ought to be honored for that.
Because when it comes to fisheries conservation, someone has to be the first to act. Someone must be the first
person, or the first club, the first state or, as in this case, the first
charter boat association to step away from the crowd and take needed action for no better reason than because it’s the right thing to do.
In doing so, those pioneers set a new
standard for conduct, raising the bar for everyone. By ending their mako tournament, the Association has issued a de
facto challenge to other tournament sponsors to follow
its example.
Being the first to adopt conservation measures, and issuing that sort of challenge, takes more
than a small bit of courage, because everyone else is heavily invested in the
status quo.
The pioneers are often met
with as much scorn, and sometimes even ridicule, as they are with the
admiration and praise that they deserve.
Other recreational fishermen will dismiss their efforts, saying things like “Yeah, let your fish
go so that the commercial guys can go catch them,” in part because they believe
that is true and in part because anyone who decides to walk a higher road is
going to cause a lot of discomfort among those who have made the low road their
home, who almost always seek to drag down anyone who decides to walk
a different path.
Thus, the decision to end the Mako Mania Tournament will not go unnoticed, and will not go uncriticized.
Many will probably dismiss the effort, and say that it makes no difference, because fishermen will fish other
tournaments, and just weigh their kills elsewhere.
Other tournament sponsors
might just chuckle a bit and declare, “More for us!” while they try to hide
their unease, knowing that the Association’s actions will put more of a negative spotlight
on those events that still encourage anglers to kill fish for cash.
Because the tide is slowly changing.
Shark tournaments, as popular as they had become, are a relatively new phenomenon. Mako
Mania only dates back to the mid-1980s; other events, such as Long
Island (NY)’s Bay Shore Mako Tournament, are older, but can still only trace
their history back to the early 1960s.
While that’s nearly 60 years ago, it’s still a lot more recent than, say, the start of the West Palm Beach (FL) Fishing Club’s Silver Sailfish Derby, which was first held
in 1935, or the United
States Atlantic Tuna Tournament, which began at about the same time, and
only stopped doing business a few years ago, when there were no longer enough bluefin
around to entice anglers into fishing the event.
Shark fishing only began to gain legitimacy toward
the end of the 1950s, when the
late Montauk, NY charter captain, Frank Mundus, began taking customers “monster
fishing” in the waters off eastern Long Island. Sharks were abundant and easy to find back
then, and it didn’t take a lot of expensive tackle or sophisticated techniques
to bring a few to the boat.
So, while well-heeled
sportsmen still chased swordfish, marlin and tuna, anglers of more modest means
discovered that shark fishing allowed them to catch big fish on a
relatively small budget. At that point, helped
along by frequent write-ups in the popular angling press, shark fishing became
more and more popular.
At the same time, all sharks but
the mako and sometimes the thresher retained their lowly status. People caught plenty of sharks, killed them,
and brought them back to the docks to weigh in and photo. After that, the fish ended up trucked to a
landfill or dumped out at sea.
I can
still remember hearing a locally renowned shark fishermen giving a lecture here
on Long Island in the late 1980s, when he told the audience how to find and
catch the big tiger sharks that were still fairly common in local waters. After weighing them in, he told
the crowd, always slit their bellies and cut out the liver before dumping them
out in the bay, because the liver floats and if you don’t cut it out, the dumped
carcass might rise to the surface.
No one thought much about not
killing, weighing and dumping such sharks when they were caught.
So the tournaments saw many
scores of sharks brought back to the docks, weighed and, more times than not,
tossed in dumpsters, to end their earthly existence feeding flies on some
municipal trash heap. That went on for
quite a while, fueled in the 1970s by a new shark hunting hysteria spawned by
the movie Jaws.
In the 1980s,
tuna and billfish stocks began to decline, so the sports with the
big boats, fueled by the “greed is good” ethic of the era, spilled into the
shark fishing scene, and contests that once offered a trophy and maybe some
fishing gear to the winners started offering cash, and often a lot of it, to
winners in order to reel in the high rollers.
That didn’t do the sharks too much good.
But as the hysteria began to ebb,
awareness started to take its place.
Anglers became more aware of the fact that the shark supply
wasn’t endless, and also became less tolerant of tournament dumpsters. In response, the tournaments started setting
minimum weights for the sharks brought in for prizes, and often limited prizes
to species recognized as edible, which generally meant makos and threshers. Awards were handed out for sharks tagged and
released, and not just for sharks killed.
Yet many shark populations,
and in particular mako populations, continued to decline. Fishing regulations became more restrictive
but, in many cases, not restrictive enough.
When viewed in that historical
context, the Greater Point Pleasant Charter Boat Association’s decision to end
its mako tournament is just the next logical step in the recreational fishery’s
conservation of important marine species.
The Association is acting responsibly, to protect an important and
valued marine resource.
For doing so, they should be
honored, and emulated, by the entire shark fishing community.
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