A few years ago, I was on one of my sporadic trips down to
Washington, D.C., wandering around some House office building and talking to folks about
fish. I had just come out of a meeting
with the staff of a member who represented a district in the New York City Borough
of Queens, which is geographically, if not politically, a part of Long Island, shares the same geology and same species of saltwater fish.
Most of the staffers were the typical, just-out-of-college-or-law-school
twentysomethings who are getting their start in the political arena. It turned out
that one of the staff was a pretty serious recreational fisherman, who spent
much of his free time on the waters of Jamaica Bay and western Long Island
Sound.
After the meeting ended, that stafffer and I were having a casual
conversation about fishing out in the hall when I happened to mention winter
flounder. He gave me a funny sort of
look, then, and admitted that he not only had never caught one, but that he had
never even seen one alive.
Remember, this was someone who was probably in his late 20s
and an active angler, who regularly fished places such as Jamaica, Manhasset,
and Little Neck bays, which were once fertile flounder grounds. So many flounder used to inhabit waters like
those, all along New York’s coastline, that
in 1984, New York anglers harvested nearly 14.5 million of them, and released
many more.
But by 2022, when that conversation in Washington took
place, New York’s winter flounder landings had fallen to something like a mere
120 fish—although, by then, winter flounder landings were so rare that the folks doing the
catch surveys almost never came across one, making the recent landing
estimates little more than a wild-ass guess.
So, it’s understandable that the Congressional staffer whom
I spoke with never came across a flounder, either.
It’s also sad, for throughout the first four decades of my
life, winter flounder were one of the most abundant, most pursued, and arguably
most important recreational fish in New York’s waters. But as they began to decline, fishery
managers were very slow to react, and very hesitant to adopt the management
measures needed to stabilize the stock.
The opposition of the recreational fishing industry, and particularly
the for-hire industry, to any sort of meaningful regulation created a political
barrier that managers were, in the end, unwilling to scale.
Environmental factors, in the form of warming waters, the
resultant hypoxia, and other, related factors certainly also played a role in
the flounder’s decline, but it is difficult to argue that fishing, and in
particular recreational fishing, didn’t play the dominant role in the flounder’s
demise (for those who would rather blame the commercial fishery for the
flounder’s ills, I would note that in 1984, the year
that saw New York anglers land nearly 14 million pounds of flounder, the
commercial landings were under 1.4 million pounds; the same comparison holds
true in other years, as commercial landings in 1981 were just 2.1 million pounds,
compared to a 12.5 million pound recreational harvest, while in 1985,
commercial landings were under 1.3 million pounds, while recreational landings
exceeded 12 million).
Today, anglers in New York just don’t see winter flounder
anymore, although one will occasionally be caught while fishing for something
else.
And now, the striped bass is also in decline.
The stock remains overfished, although as of the 2024 stockassessment update, spawning stock biomass was approaching the threshold, andbiologists were predicting that SSB might finally exceed the threshold thisyear. However, even if it does, there is
a bigger problem on the horizon.
The
last seven years have seen very few young bass recruiting into the population. The
Maryland juvenile abundance index has been the most reliable indicator of
future striped bass abundance, and its average for those seven years, 2.81, is the
lowest seven-year average in a time series that dates back to 1957. The next-lowest 7-year average was 3.47, for
the period 1980-1986, the heart of the last stock collapse, which gives some
idea of just how bad recent recruitment has been.
“Management actions taken over the last decade have resulted
in a healthy population of spawning-age striped bass,”
a dubious assertion given that spawning stock biomass is currently
hovering somewhere near—below, as of the last stock assessment—the threshold
that defines an overfished stock, but also admits that
“continued low numbers of striped bass entering the
population is a threat to this progress as there are fewer juveniles growing
into spawning adults.”
There is just no way that a JAI of 4.0, following six
previous years of record-low recruitment, can be seen as good news.
However, that designation is deceiving, as the long-term
average is calculated based on all years from 1967 through 2025, including the
many years of poor recruitment that occurred during the stock collapse of the
late 1970s and much of the 1980s, while
the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission’s Amendment 7 to the
Interstate Fishery Management Plan for Atlantic Striped Bass provides that
“If any of the four JAIs used in the stock assessment model
to estimate recruitment (NY, NJ, MD, VA) shows an index value that is below 75%
of all values…in the respective JAI from 1992-2006…for three consecutive years,
then an interim [fishing mortality] target and interim [fishing mortality]
threshold calculated using the low recruitment assumption will be implemented,
and the [fishing mortality]-based management triggers…will be reevaluated using
those interim reference points.”
Yet, just as occurred with winter flounder nearly 40 years
ago, the recreational fishing industry is ignoring the threats that both fishing
mortality and changing environmental conditions pose to the striped bass stock,
and is fighting against needed management action.
So, the question is, when the Atlantic Striped Bass
Management Board meets on October 29, will it take action to conserve what
remains of the striped bass stock, in an effort to preserve the spawning stock
biomass so that, when environmental conditions allow, it will be able to
produce the strong year classes needed to rebuild the bass population?
Or will it heed the calls to maintain status quo, and put
the stock at increased risk of eventual collapse. .
And, if the Management Board opts for inaction, just how far
might the striped bass population decline?
After all, the last seven years of recruitment has already
fallen below all previous marks, and set a new record low. If no management action is taken, might the spawning
stock biomass also enter a long and unprecedented freefall, dropping to levels
never before recorded?
When the grandchildren of today’s anglers are in their
mid-20s, perhaps 40 years from now, will they still be catching stripers? Or will the twentysomething anglers of 2065
say “Striped bass? I never caught one. I’ve never even seen one alive?”
That might seem improbable now.
But folks would have said the same thing about winter
flounder in 1985.
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