LAND-BASED SHARK FISHING: SPORT, STUNT, OR SCOURGE?

 

Catching sharks from shore, or from shore-based structures, is nothing new.

I first saw people do it in February 1970, when I was 15 years old and on a family vacation down in Ft. Pierce, Florida.  We spent most of our days—and parts of our nights—fishing off the South Jetty at Ft. Pierce inlet, catching everything from sting rays to snook.  One afternoon, we walked out to our usual spot and noticed that something very different was going on out near the jetty’s tip.

There were half a dozen fishermen clustered around the place where the asphalt pavement that ran most of the length of the jetty ended, and the jumbled, unpaved boulders began.  They were fishing much heavier tackle than anyone else was using, and a few of them were wearing jackets with club colors embroidered across the back reading “Palm Beach Shark Club,” maybe “West Palm Beach Shark Club,” or something of that ilk. 

That was over 55 years ago now, and I no longer recall for sure.

We watched them for a while.  It didn’t take long until a fish picked up one of their baits, and an intense, but fairly short, fight began.  Eventually, the fish, which one of the fishermen said was a bull shark weighing about 200 pounds, was unceremoniously gaffed, dragged up over the rocks and onto the asphalt, and stabbed in the head with a knife, which didn’t survive the experience.

Some time later, with the shark appearing dead (although it might well not have been), the fishermen roughly cut out its jaws and went home, leaving the corpse for someone else to clean up, as it lay marinating in a pool of congealing blood and provided some food for the flies.

I don’t recall if any photos were taken, but that was close to half a century before Facebook, YouTube, TikTok and Instagram, so photos weren’t the same sort of currency that they are today.

There was no Internet then, and land-based shark fishing didn’t get a lot of public attention, athough a photo might crop up from time to time in a newspaper or on TV, and every five or ten years, one of the “big three” outdoor magazines of the time—Outdoor Life, Sports Afield, and Field & Stream—might publish something about it.

Like any normal 15-year-old boy, attracted to violence and physical challenge, I was immediately smitten with the activity, and spent most of the rest of the trip sitting out at the end of the jetty, fishing a chunk of grunt on the heaviest outfit that I brought along on the trip, but the sharks showed no interest, which was probably just as well, as a shark of any substance would probably have stripped all 300 yards of 12-pound line off my reel in a matter of moments, and left me standing on the rocks with an open mouth and an empty spool.

Such was my introduction to land-based shark fishing.

Things have changed a lot since then.

Perhaps the biggest change is the attitude towards the sharks themselves.  Shore-based shark fishermen no longer view their quarry as entertaining vermin, to be killed and their jaws cut out while their bodies are dumped.  Catch-and-release is now the general rule, although depending on species, the occasional fish might be kept as food.  Some land-based shark fishermen tag the fish they catch, in an effort to help shark researchers.

But for many, getting good “content” for Internet posts seems to be the primary draw.

Yet, despite all the changes, the question remains:  Is land-based shark fishing a legitimate, sustainable recreational activity, or does it cause undo harm and unjustifiable levels of fishing mortality to the fish that are caught, many species of which—and this can differ from place to place—are faring so poorly overall that they have been placed on a “prohibited species list” by state and federal regulators, and in some places, including my native New York, may not even be legally targeted in a catch-and-release fishery, much less intentionally killed.

Right now, it seems that the tide may have started to flow against land-based shark fishing, as states begin to enact regulations to rein in, if not the entire fishery, then at least its worst abuses.  Although it’s always difficult to craft general rules, and exceptions always arise, it seems that, on the whole, states between New England and Virginia seem most concerned with protecting their shark populations, while those between North Carolina and Texas are less concerned about the well-being of local sharks and more worried about preventing interactions between sharks those using the states’ beaches.

It’s a division that makes a sort of sense, not only from a tourism perspective, but also because of the different species of sharks found in state waters.  Southern states host a plethora of species, many of which may be legally targeted and retained if of legal size, but as one moves north, prohibited species begin to dominate the mix, with sandbars, sand tigers, duskies, and even white sharks becoming a significant part of the catch.

It was that predominance of prohibited species, and in particular, anglers trying to catch white sharks from shore, that led Massachusetts to become the latest state to adopt regulations limiting land-based shark fishing.

On July 2, 2025, that state issued a press release that stated, in part,

“Shore-based shark fishing is growing in popularity along the coast and Massachusetts has become a desirable location to conduct such fishing.  While DMF regulations already prohibit attracting and targeting great white sharks, it has become evident in recent years that these rules are difficult to enforce and in need of clarification to ameliorate user-group conflicts.  Last year, there were several instances where anglers likely fishing for white sharks from shore caused public safety risks for other beach-goers.  In response, DMF has taken action to prevent the further expansion of this fishing activity and improve enforceability of existing regulations.”

That’s an important message, because it addresses a problem that seems to exist in many places where land-based shark fishing takes place, and one that we will address again later in this essay:  Too many participants in the fishery seem to have no respect for either the law or the fish that they pursue, and are willing to engage in illegal activity, that is often also harmful to the shark, just to indulge their desire to catch fish and create Internet content, thus forcing states to place more restrictions on the land-based shark fishery.  In Massachusetts’ case, targeting white sharks from shore was already illegal, but fishermen did it anyway, forcing the state to impose a greater regulatory burden on land-based shark fishermen.

“To better restrict the targeting of white sharks were they are most commonly found, DMF created an area…where anglers are prohibited from fishing from shore with a baited hook that has an inside gap exceeding 5/8 inch (when measured straight across from barb to shank) coupled with a wire or metal leader that measures more than 18 inches…Additionally, if you are fishing and using [a] heavy hook and leader combination outside of the prohibited area, you may not chum from sunrise to sunset.

“Lastly, DMF has prohibited anglers from using mechanized, compressed-propulsion, and remote-controlled devices to deploy baits when shore-fishing for sharks or any other species.  Common devices included in this prohibition are bait cannons, drones, and so called ‘rc-boats’ (radio- or remote-controlled boats).  Deploying baits with manual devices such as kayaks and kites remains allowed.  The purpose of this action is two-fold.  First, it complements the above-described regulations to restrict the shore-based targeting of white sharks.  By prohibiting the use of these devices while shore-based shark fishing, anglers will be constrained in setting bait beyond the surf where white sharks occur, thereby limiting the ability of anglers to target these animals and ameliorating resulting user group and public safety conflicts.  Additionally, by prohibiting the use of these devices, DMF aims to reduce stresses on fish that can increase post-release mortality.  These devices allow shore-based anglers to target fish at greater distances and specific size classes of fish when conditions allow.  Inevitably, this will increase the frequency that fish are caught, and increase the fight time and stress associated with the catch…”

On July 21, 2026, Massachusetts expanded the “prohibited area” for shore-based white shark fishing, which had previously been limited to the shores of Cape Cod Bay and along the entire outer Cape from Race Point to Chatham Harbor, to also include the island of Nantucket.  However, the release announcing the expansion also noted that shore-based shark fishing for other prohibited species, specifically including sandbars and sand tigers, remained legal throughout the state, provided that legal equipment was used.

The Massachusetts regulations follow a path blazed by New York in 2024, although New York’s restrictions on the shore-based shark fishery are far more comprehensive, and intended to protect the prohibited species that make up most of the catch there.  The Department of Environmental Conservation’s website makes those concerns abundantly clear, beginning with a highlighted box that reads,

“It is illegal to pursue, capture, kill, or otherwise harass prohibited shark species in New York State waters.  Do not fish for prohibited sharks.  If captured, prohibited sharks must remain in the water and must be released immediately, without undue harm.  These rules apply to all vessel-based and shore-based anglers.  [emphasis in original]”

In fact, it’s not only prohibited species that must be released immediately, as the website goes on to explain that

“A shark that is not being harvested may not be removed from the water.  The entire length of the shark must remain in the water with its gills submerged,”

and

“A shark that is not being harvested must be released without undue harm.  Anglers are prohibited from engaging in any activities which may decrease the shark’s probability of survival after release.”

Those rules complement others designed to minimize the number of prohibited species that are hooked and put at risk, including

“It is unlawful for a person to chum from shore with anything other than mollusks or crustaceans,”

“Non-stainless steel, non-offset circle hooks are required when using baited hooks for sharks,”

“It is unlawful for a shore angler to use a baited hook attached to a metal fishing leader that exceeds 18 inches in total length,”

“It is unlawful for a shore angler to deploy baited hooks by any means other than casting with rod and reel [i.e., no drones, etc.],”

and

“Shark anglers must have wire or bolt cutters immediately available to aid in the removal of tackle and release of sharks that are not being harvested.”

Unfortunately, it appears that the members of the land-based shark fishing community are largely ignoring those rules.  A video that showed up on Facebook a few weeks ago showed an angler reportedly fishing off Rockaway Beach in New York City catching both a sand tiger, which is a prohibited species, and a bull shark, which is not, and dragging them both out of the water in violation of the law, before eventually releasing them.

Another shows a big sand tiger that was hauled onto the sand at Gilgo Beach in Suffolk County in early July (with neither bolt cutter nor wire clipper evident during the release).

Still another from about the same time shows an angler sitting atop a prohibited sand tiger shark—certainly something “which may decrease the shark’s probability of survival after release”—high and dry on the sand, while his companion tries to remove the hook, again without benefit of bolt cutters or clippers.

The same sort of thing happens at Robert Moses State Park and elsewhere on the South Shore of Long Island.  In fact, if you take the time to look through all of the land-based shark fishing videos taken anywhere on New York’s beaches, about the one thing that you’re not going to see is someone obeying the law; without exception, fish are dragged out of the water, release is delayed while video is taken, bolt cutter and/or wire cutters are nowhere to be seen, etc.

And prohibited species are being displayed just about all the time.

And that blatant disregard for both the rules and the fish definitely militates toward moving land-based shark fishing, at least in New York, from the “avocation” into the “nuisance” category.

Of all the states, Florida has probably done the most to try to get its arms around the problem, yet Florida is an interesting case.  Unlike the northeastern states, where prohibited species dominate, Florida has a plethora of species that are not on the prohibited list, including blacktips, spinners, tigers, nurses, and bulls, along with a number of smaller species.  However, the state also prohibits the harvest of tiger sharks and the various hammerhead species, even though they are not on the federal prohibited list, and hosts populations of other prohibited species as well.

Florida found itself in a position where it needed to protected prohibited species and other, while not prohibited, still at-risk species, but at the same time didn’t want to cut off opportunities to fish from the beach for sharks that could be sustainably targeted.

So it ended up starting from scratch, and trying to put together a program that might be able to meet both objectives.

Unique among all the states, Florida requires anyone who wishes to engage in land-based shark fishing to first take a four-module course that includes lessons on relevant fishing regulations, appropriate fishing equipment, shore-based shark fishing ethics, and shark identification, and then get a perfect score on a 10-question quiz that follows.  In scope and testing, the Florida course is significantly more rigorous than the video course the National Marine Fisheries Service requires of those who wish to have a Shark Endorsement added to their Angling Category Highly Migratory Species Permit.

It’s a requirement that more states ought to adopt.

One of the themes running through the Florida course, just as it runs through New York regulations, is that prohibited species may not be removed from the water; instead, the entire shark must remain in the water, deep enough that the gills remain covered.  In addition, the course warns against delaying release for any reason, including photography, taking measurements, or even tagging the fish.

Principles of “shark smart” handling and release listed on the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission web page include

“Keep sharks, especially the gills, in the water,”

“Removing sharks from the water can increase the likelihood of injuries to the shark,”

and

“Minimize handling and release time and do not delay release just to take pictures.”

But once again, such rules are ignored, as even land-based shark fishing guides, who ought to know better, flood their Facebook pages with photos of prohibited species dragged onto the sand for posed photos that delay their eventual release and threaten their lives.

Great hammerheads might be a state-prohibited species, and particularly vulnerable to release mortality, but that doesn’t stop guides from selling their services with photos of them sitting atop a tailroped fish, holding its head at an unnatural angle in water too shallow to cover its gills, in order to sell their services.

Those sort of photos abound.

Photos of fishermen properly handling shore-caught sharks are a lot harder to come by.

So, once again, we need to ask the question, can shore-based shark fishing be a legitimate sport, or do the personalities of those who pursue it, and refuse to adhere to basic standards of fish handling, make it a threat to at least some depleted shark stocks?

The answer is not cut and dried.

There is evidence that even species such as great hammerheads, which are deemed “highly sensitive” to release mortality, can be successfully released from the beach.  One small-scale study conducted in 2021 implanted pop-off satellite archival tags in 15 great hammerheads that were caught from the beach, using standard land-based shark fishing tackle.  Although the tags were supposed to remain in the sharks for up to 30 days, all deployed much sooner; retention time averaged only 7.6 days, within a 3- to 16-day range. 

Of the 15 sharks, one clearly died soon after release, three tags malfunctioned, and 11 indicated that the sharks survived, at least for the period that the tag remained implanted.  Yet once again, human behavior is at the core of the issue, for as the study noted,

“The anglers decided how to handle the sharks and their position on the shore therefore sampling conditions varied from .5 m [about 19.5 inches] of water with no waves to 1-1.5 m [39-59 inches] breaking waves.”

So, at all times during the study, the tagged sharks remained in water deep enough to swim, to fully cover their gills, and to support their weight.  Never were they dragged into the wash or onto the sand, the way hammerhead typically are in Internet photos and videos.

“We acknowledge that there are likely biases in our study that may have led to this unexpectedly low mortality rate.  Firstly, like with many co-produced research projects, we collaborated with anglers who were willing to work with, and be observed by scientists which could lead to anglers being on their ‘best behavior.’  These anglers are also likely to care about the conservation of the species and of the fishery and strive for responsible fishing techniques.”

In other words, the people who have made themselves the public face of the land-based shark fishing community were not the same folks who were helping out with the study—or, if they were, they substantially altered their behavior for the duration.

And the public face of the land-based shark fishing community isn’t doing itself any favors.

While Massachusetts, New York, and Florida are the only states to adopt comprehensive regulatory packages governing shore-based shark fishing, it appears that another state, Delaware, stands on the threshold of doing so.  Delaware regulations already provide that

“It is unlawful for any hook and line fisherman to remove from the water sandbar shark, or any other species of shark when prohibited from harvest under [applicable law],”

and that

“It is unlawful to release any shark in the management unit or any sandbar shark in a manner that will not ensure said shark’s maximum probability of survival.  All species of shark when prohibited from harvest…must be immediately released.”

Of course, those rules get ignored, too. 

A quick google search will turn up a group of Delaware anglers mishandling a trifecta of prohibited species—sandbar, sand tiger, and dusky—as well as other examples of “content creators” fishing Delaware shores mishandling prohibited species for likes.  Although at least one angler was caught by a news camera trying to do it right.

So now, Delaware apparently feels that angler misconduct is forcing it to take further regulatory action.  Like New York, it is considering a complete ban on anglers using kayaks, drones, remote-controlled boats or similar means to deploy baits, whether meant for sharks or anything else.

Some anglers are unhappy with the proposal, but it’s hard to deny that widespread bad behavior is leading to what some fishermen view as bad outcomes.

But it seems like some fishermen are starting to get the message and, surprisingly, that message seems to be sinking in deepest in New Jersey, a state that has not heavily regulated its shore-based shark fishery—yet.

The weekly New Jersey/Delaware Bay fishing report was released by The Fisherman Magazine this morning, and it spends some time addressing the land-based shark fishing issue, including the proposed rules in Delaware, with editor Jim Hutchinson, Jr. advising,

“I know that I keep talking about this surf shark fishing, but it’s getting big.  It’s getting out of hand.  And it’s getting highly scrutinized at this point, it’s become a hot-button issue…even in Florida, where individuals probably enjoy the most freedom among any of the Atlantic coastal states, the latest headlines there also show trouble is brewing on the beaches of Florida.  One thing to really keep in mind…you need to take extra precaution with releasing big game on the beach, but especially sand tigers.  Sand tigers are really prone to catch and release mortality.  They swallow baits more than brown sharks or other sharks they just swallow the baits whole.  They’re more susceptible to getting gut hooked, and they’re a little bit more fragile.  And folks, this is really what our community should try to refrain from [showing photo of angler with a sand tiger on the beach, sitting on top of it, pulling its nose high—well above anything the fish’s spine would experience naturally—to display the shark’s teeth].  The time it takes to set up your photo, climbing on top of the sand tiger to hold open its mouth, to show off its teeth, is precious time which should be spent getting that shark back in the water so they don’t wash up in the morning.  So that giant hammerhead in Florida is causing a scene because it’s a dead fish that washed up on the beach, that folks were saying, ‘It was caught by a surfcaster.’  That’s the same thing that’s happening with these sand tigers [photo of dead, desiccated, washed-up sand tiger lying on a beach].  Folks get up in the morning, they see a sand tiger dead on the beach, next thing you know, all the microscope is on us.  So be responsible with the release, be even more so with what you choose to post on social media.  Because if you don’t think that enforcement is watching…”

Perhaps the most relevant article appeared in TheSandPaper.net, a website serving New Jersey’s Long Beach Island and southern Ocean County.  It began with a warning:

“As the state sees an increase in recreational beachfront shark fishing—with photo ops of catches proliferating on social media—the N.J. Department of Environmental Protection’s Fish and Wildlife Division reminds anglers there are state and federal regulations in place to help vulnerable species, and these regulations are enforced.

“The division is also ‘currently in the policy development stage to assess our regulations while working with municipalities most heavily impacted by shore-based shark fishing to identify their needs and concerns,’ NJDEP Press Officer Vincent Grassi said on Monday, Aug. 3.

“’New Jersey shark fishing regulations are guided by policy set at National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration and Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission,’ Grassi explained.  ‘These regulations call for the use of corrodible, non-stainless circle hooks, forbid the targeting of prohibited species, and set a closed spring season.

“’NJDEP is aware of other states’ regulations, such as the immediate release of non-retained species without removal from the water, closed shark fishing areas, shark fishing permit requirements, and defined shark fishing gear.

“Federal regulations, meanwhile, bar the targeting of any prohibited species, ‘and anglers mujst release any prohibited shark immediately, without removing it from the water and in a manner that maximizes its chances for survival,’ Grassi noted.  ‘For example, sand tiger sharks are a prohibited species, therefore, posing for pictures on the beach with this species or any other species on the prohibited list is a violation of federal regulations.’

“’For shark species that are not on the prohibited list, (Fish and Wildlife) highly discourages posing for photos in order to increase the shark’s chances of survival,’ he said.”

That sort of language, coming from an official spokesman for the agency that manages New Jersey’s salt water fisheries, strongly suggests that New Jersey might, at some point in the not-too-distant future, join Massachusetts, New York, Florida and, perhaps, Delaware, as a state with a comprehensive set of regulations designed to rein in the abuses of the shore-based shark fishery, and protect the various prohibited species of shark,

But there were a couple of other voices quoted in that SandPaper article that also deserve to be heard.  Both are land-based shark fishermen.

One, Kevin-Scott van Vlijmen laid it right on the line:

“The state believes that half of all shark anglers are educated on the right techniques and gear, and the other half are not.  That’s a big number; do better guys!

“The state believes that many people are using light line, exposing the fish to barbed hooks and not using preventative methods to stop sand tigers from swallowing hooks.  Guys, I don’t care if you don’t have the money for it.  If you’re not willing to make the effort to be a good representation of this sport, I don’t want to see you on our beaches.  Don’t be the reason for ruining our hobby.”

 The other angler, Elijah Allen, resignedly said,

“There’s been a lot of hate these past couple years on shark fishing.  It’s imperative that we do better.  We can’t really get mad at the state for enforcing stricter fishing when guys not only treat the sharks poorly, but post it online for views as well.  We can do better, for sure.”

Those anglers seem to represent the voice of reason in the land-based shark fishing debate.  Yet, while there’s little doubt that land-based shark anglers can do better, the question is whether they’re willing to do so, if it means giving up the shark-sitting-on-the-sand, angler-sitting-on-the-shark videos, replete with their pried-open jaws and sharks dragged by the tail, that seem to be an inherent part of the land-based shark fishing culture.

Right now, I have my doubts, but there is always a chance that common sense will prevail.

If it does, then land-based shark fishing, at least in the South, might well be able to become a legitimate, ethical sport, practiced with due respect for the law and the sharks themselves.  It won’t be an easy transition, given the current abundance of Internet stuntmen who seem more than willing to trade a shark’s life for more likes, but it could happen.

North of the Chesapeake Bay, maybe even north of Cape Hatteras, I doubt that l jand-based shark fishery will, or even can, evolve into an ethical sport.  Prohibited species are just too big a part of the catch (and please don’t give me that “we were not targeting sandbars or sand tigers, but can’t control what takes the bait” excuse; you know what the species mix is in your region, and you know that prohibited species and, too often, sand tigers, make up the majority of your catch).

At least from Maryland north, targeting sharks from the shore will probably always be synonymous with targeting prohibited species.  That may change a bit later next year, if the pending sandbar shark stock assessment leads to NMFS taking sandbars off the prohibited species list, but there will still be a lot of vulnerable sand tigers to deal with.

So long as that is the case, the northern and upper mid-Atlantic states are likely to continue to adopt regulations intended to better protect prohibited sharks, and rein in the land-based shark fishery that threatens to remove too many sharks from protected populations.

Which is probably the right thing to do.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“

 

 

 

FEWER FISH, FEWER FISHING TRIPS

 

Fishing Tackle Retailer, a trade publication for the fishing and boating industries, recently reported on an American Sportfishing Association study that indicated reduced recreational fishing activity in 2025.

The publication quoted Glenn Hughes, ASA’s president and chief executive officer, who said that

“While trendline data still shows growth in the past decade, keeping anglers engaged in fishing continues to be a struggle, with 19 million people dropping from the sport in 2025—the highest rate of ‘churn’ on record,”

and goes on to explain that

“catching fish isn’t the only reason Americans went fishing.  They also fished to enjoy nature, escape everyday stress and spend time with family and friends.”

At the same time,

“dissatisfaction with time on the water stemmed from crowded fishing spots and discomfort from being outdoors, not catching fish, unclean waters, and the cost of gear.”

We need to be careful not to make too much out of a single year’s data; fishing activity declined in 2021, too, but soon began increasing again.  And the 2025 decline only reduced the total number of anglers by about 1.5%, from 59.9 to 59.0 million people.  Salt water fishing even increased by 400,000 people—about 2.6%--the fourth year of record-breaking participation.

Still, the record-high “churn” level—the number of former anglers who left the sport in 2025—is probably significant, and ought not be shrugged off.  And although the overall number of salt water fishermen may be increasing, in some places, the trend is definitely headed in the opposite direction.

The issue came up at the May 16 meeting of New York’s Marine Resources Advisory Council, where a Department of Environmental Conservation biologist presented data showing that

“Shore fishing and private or rental boat fishing account for the majority of trips each year.  Total trips increase from about 12 million in 2021 to a peak of 16.5 million in 2022, then decline to approximately 11.5 million in 2025,”

thus following about the same pattern revealed in the ASA report.

A similar pattern appeared in New Jersey, which along with NewYork sees the highest number of fishing trips anywhere in the upper mid-Atlantic and southern New England region, although New Jersey’s peak occurred one year later, in 2023.  However, Massachusetts and Rhode Island anglers took somewhat more trips in 2025 than they did in 2021; Connecticut saw fewer trips in 2025 than it did in 2021, but reached its near-time low in 2024.

Still, the overall message was that there was a lot less fishing going on in 2025 than there was a few years earlier.

Fishing industry representatives on the Council challenged the apparent decline in fishing effort.

“Councilor Squeri [who chronically refuses to accept any data produced by the Marine Recreational Information Program] asked if the 2020 numbers were available, he was interested in the harvest and trip numbers.  Ms. Sysak [the DEC biologist] replied that in 2020 the total harvest was almost the same as for 2021 and effort was almost as high as 2022.  Mr. Squeri said that the numbers don’t make sense so far as effort is concerned.  During Covid in 2020, yes, he can see the number being so high but in 2022, life was getting back to normal so for him, these numbers don’t represent what was really going on in the world.  If you look at the charter boat in 2023, it’s showing 18,042; compare it to the surrounding years, in 2022 the number is 96,929 and in 2024, the number is 73,270.  He always believes that when you put bad numbers in, you get bad numbers back.  These numbers are saying ‘red flag’ to him…

“To Councilor Dearborn, who owns a bait and tackle shop [actually, a large bait an tackle wholesale operation], the numbers seem wrong.  She would say 2020 would have had the highest numbers because of COVID, fishing was an activity that families could do together at a time when everyone was distancing themselves from each other, the numbers should reflect the highest of numbers and to see 2022 showing the highest numbers, the sales in her shop do not justify that.  The numbers in her shop show a downward trend since 2020.”

But now, we see an ASA study, based on what the Association calls

“the most comprehensive research on fishing participation, providing an annual assessment of angler demographics, participation and motivations from more than 18,000 respondents,”

showing trends similar to those derived from MRIP data, although the ASA’s primary trend of decreasing angler activity doesn’t seem to apply to salt water fishing, at least on a coastwide basis.

Perhaps the recreational fishing and boating industries ought to be paying more attention to the study’s conclusion that “dissatisfaction with time on the water stemmed from…not catching fish,” among other things.  Because when I started writing this blog, more than a dozen year ago, one of the first things I observed was that, if you want to have a fishing industry, either commercial or recreational, it helps to have fish.

Yet whether we’re talking about a local tackle shop or a trade organization like the ASA, the recreational fishing industry has, for the most part, opposed conservation measures or, at best, tried to minimize needed restrictions on the recreational fishery, in order to maintain or increase the current level of sales.

It’s possible that we’ve finally reached that point where such tactics prove counterproductive.

Striped bass might provide the clearest example.

Back in the early 1980s, the striped bass stock had collapsed after years of poor spawns in the Chesapeake Bay.  In 1984, the year before an effective rebuilding program was adopted by the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission, anglers took fewer than 1.8 million trips primarily targeting the species.  That number increased to 13.0 million trips in 1995, when the striped bass stock was deemed to be rebuilt, then leapt to 23.4 million in 2004, when the striped bass spawning stock biomass peaked.  But since then, as the stock declined, angler effort declined as well.  In 2014, after a benchmark stock assessment found that spawning stock biomass was below target and while the fishing mortality rate had risen above its target level, angler effort had dropped to 19.3 million trips.  Five years later, a new benchmark assessment found that the stock had become overfished; by then, the number of trips primarily targeting bass had dropped even farther, to 15.8 million trips.

Since then, as striped bass abundance waned, the number of striped bass trips has continued to decline.

On the afternoon of August 5, the ASMFC’s Atlantic Striped Bass Management Board will review, and almost certainly adopt, the Review of the Interstate Fishery Management Plan for Atlantic Striped Bass (Morone saxatilis) 2025 Fishing Year.  That document notes the sharp decline in recreational striped bass fishing effort, saying

“the number of trips directed at striped bass (primary and secondary target) decreased in the Ocean in 2025 and increased in the Chesapeake Bay.  In 2025, the number of striped bass directed trips in the Chesapeake Bay region increased by about 52% compared to 2024, but is still the second lowest in the past decade behind only 2024.  The number of striped bass directed trips in the Ocean declined by about 12% from 2024.  Overall, the total number of striped bass directed trips decreased by 7% from 2024 and is the lowest number of directed trips in the past decade.”

At 13.9 million directed striped bass trips, 2025 didn’t just see “the lowest number of directed trips in the past decade,” but the lowest number in about 30 years.

The review of the 2025 fishing year offers a number of possible reasons for the decline in effort, and makes one comment that ought to remain at the forefront of everyone’s mind, whether they are fisheries managers or commenting on the striped bass management process:

“Angler effort and behavior are also important to consider.  When more fish are available in the fishery, effort can often increase in response.  When narrower size limits are in place or less fish are available in the fishery, anglers may change their behavior and level of effort.”

Given what seems to be a clear link between striped bass abundance and angling effort, it would seem somewhat surprising that industry groups such as the American Sportfishing Association, National Marine Manufacturers Association, and Marine Retailers Association of the Americas, along with organizations that tend to move in lockstep with the industry, such as the Coastal Conservation Association and Theodore Roosevelt Conservation Partnership, opposed a 12% reduction in striped bass fishing mortality at the October 2025 meeting of the Atlantic Striped Bass Management Board, apparently prioritizing short-term merchandise sales over a potentially long-term drop in effort that could significantly reduce income over a longer period of time.

It’s not clear that all, or even most, of the lost striped bass effort is being redirected into other fisheries.  Instead, much of that seems to suggest a resultant decline in overall angler participation.

If we look at New York in 2019, the last year before COVID-19 disrupted people’s lives and arguably distorted recreational fishing activity, we find that anglers took an estimated 13,411,743 fishing trips in that year.  Something like 3,367,601 of those trips—about 25.1%--primarily targeted striped bass, with summer flounder, bluefish, and scup, the next most popular species, together accounting for another 41%.

Although none of those other three species are in as dire straits as striped bass, it’s probably important to note that the summer flounder spawning stock biomass is at about 82% of its target level, largely due to a decade and a half of below-average recruitment, while bluefish are in the last stages of a rebuilding plan needed to restore a once-overfished stock, so neither population is at optimum levels of abundance.  Only scup, with a spawning stock biomass close to three times its target level, has been widely available to anglers in recent years.

New York anglers discontent over “not catching fish” isn’t necessarily limited to the striped bass.

Whatever the reason, both overall fishing effort and directed striped bass fishing effort fluctuated over the next six years, as did fishing for scup, summer flounder, and bluefish.  But in recent years, it was striped bass fishing effort that largely seemed to drive overall recreational fishing effort here in New York.

When overall effort dropped to about 12,066,937 trips in 2021, a decline of 1,344,806 trips, striped bass effort declined by 682,818 trips.  Anglers didn’t shift their effort to other species, but rather made 274,819 fewer trips targeting scup, summer flounder, and bluefish, and apparently another 300,000-plus fewer trips targeting other species.

Effort shift was nowhere to be seen.

When overall angling effort in 2023 showed a 937,614-trip increase between 2021 and 2023, much of that increase could be attributed to an 890,284-trip increase in directed striped bass effort.

And when the overall number of trips fell to a near-term low of 11,518,735 trios in 2025, a drop of 1.475,816 total trips compared to 2023, directed striped bass trips fell by 1,263,536, making up the lion’s share of the decline.  For the first time, an increase in summer flounder effort, which constituted about 25.3% of all New York trips, knocked striped bass, at 20.1%, out of first place, and almost looked like an effort shift to other species was taking place, but overall, the aggregate number of directed trips for scup, summer flounder and bluefish were almost flat, increasing by only about 80,000, from 4,980,329 to 4,993,381, a difference that can be explained as much by the uncertainty inherent in the estimates than to any real difference in the data.

So yes, it seems as if a decline in fish abundance, and striped bass abundance in particular, can and does have a very real impact on how many times people go fishing.

It turns out that conservative fisheries management, that emphasizes abundance and long-term sustainability, isn’t only good for fish stocks, and for increasing anglers’ enjoyment.  It’s good for the recreational fishing industry, too, as more fish lead to more fishing trips and to more anglers buying more bait and tackle to supply their increased fishing activity.

Maybe, with the decline of striped bass and the economic difficulties that will bring, the industry will finally figure that out, and join with anglers and fisheries managers in a quest for effective, conservative fisheries management.

Maybe.

But probably not.

 

 

ARE THE GREAT WHATEVER COUNTS AS GREAT AS FOLKS PROMISE?

 

In recent years, “great” fish counts have become all the rage, particularly in the southeast, where the fishing tackle industry, boating industry, and anglers’ rights groups have been trying to use them as a way to challenge the peer-reviewed stock assessments and increase recreational landings.

The so-called “Great Red Snapper Count,” which was completed a few years ago, was the first such effort, but they all follow the same basic pattern.  First, the industry groups donate enough money to their local congressmen to get their attention.  Then, they convince one or two of those congressmen—and, depending on how big the contributions were, it might not take much convincing—to attach a rider to an appropriations bill, which will provide funding for a comprehensive study of the species in question, performed by academic researchers, that the industry believes will discredit the federal stock assessments and prove that federal fisheries regulations are too restrictive.

The resulting federal appropriation is typically large enough to fund a team of very competent scientists, and provide them with the support they need to conduct an intensive count of whatever the target species is, perhaps even letting them look for fish in places where no one has ever looked before.  

Given the intensity of the search, there is a very good chance that more fish are going to be found.

When more fish are found, the industry then argues that there should be a one-to-one correspondence between population size and recreational landings, and insists that recreational regulations be relaxed.

But things aren’t that cut-and-dried.

The pioneering Great Red Snapper Count provides a perfect example of that.

As noted in Gulf Coast Fisherman, the newsletter of the Mississippi-Alabama Sea Grant program, the Great Red Snapper Count found that there were about three times as many red snapper in the Gulf of Mexico than previously believed, with about two-thirds of those fish widely scattered over open, low-profile bottom.  As the newsletter explained,

“The difference noted above was driven primarily by the Great Red Snapper Count team’s ability to survey large portions of the U.S. Gulf of Mexico not surveyed by NOAA given limited resources.  These regions are known as unclassified bottom and consist of vast expanses of sand and mud, along with features like extensive, partially buried oil and gas pipelines that hadn’t been studied by fisheries scientists.  When the Great Red Snapper Count team tallied the red snapper residing over unclassified bottom, they learned that these areas actually contain a massive ‘cryptic biomass’ of red snapper estimated at 68 million fish!  This was most apparent in the Florida region, where unclassified bottom supports about 31 million, or nearly two-thirds, of the region’s 48 million red snapper.”

Yet that simple finding didn’t mean that landings could automatically be tripled, nor did it mean that previous estimates of red snapper abundance were categorically wrong.  As the National Marine Fisheries Service observed,

“The abundance estimates for high relief natural and artificial structures, where most fishing occurs, are similar to that of the 2018 assessment.

“The Great Red Snapper count confirmed previous estimates of the biomass on the habitats associated with the fishery, high relief areas such as reefs and ledges.  This previously unknown biomass associated with low relief, sand and mud bottom habitat is a welcome revelation of this research.  The discovery of additional biomass is good news which may help ease some management restrictions.  [emphasis added]”

Thus, the previous federal red snapper surveys were accurate as far as they went, but NMFS simply lacked the resources to search every nook and cranny of the Gulf of Mexico just in case red snapper happened to be there.  So they looked at the places where people fished, and got a fairly accurate count of the snapper that lived there.  But they missed the greater biomass of fish that lived where no one had previously looked, and few people ever fished.

Still, concentrating survey efforts in places where people fish might make some sort of sense, for the same article in Gulf Coast Fisherman also informs us that

“One of the four main methods used during the Great Red Snapper Count was a Gulf-wide high-reward tagging study.  Doing this study, scientists tagged and released thousands of red snapper across the U.S. Gulf of Mexico at artificial reefs and natural habitats and relied on fishermen to report the capture of tagged fish.  The results of the tagging study was surprising—approximately 30% of tagged red snapper were recaptured!  To put this quantity into context, scientists consider a recapture rate of 10% to be excellent, and anything higher is very unusual.  The 30% tag return rate signifies impressive fishermen involvement in the Great Red Snapper Count, but it also illustrates high fishing effort for red snapper at artificial and natural habitats.  [emphasis added]”

That immediately raises the question of whether the 68 million red snapper that the Great Red Snapper Count found on unclassified structure are even relevant to the recreational fishery, or to recreational fishery management.  After all, if anglers are only interacting with the fish on high-profile structure, and the fish on unclassified structure don’t move onto the ledges and reefs—and we have no idea whether they do or not—it is only the fish on the high-profile structure that need to be managed.

 

It’s far too early to make that decision right now.  But the fact that most of the fish in the eastern Gulf off Florida were found on unclassified structure—meaning that the local population there is far larger than previously believed—yet Florida charter boat captains have already started complaining that red snapper size and abundance have been steadily declining even under current regulations, suggests that the fish living on open bottom might not be having too much of an impact on the recreational red snapper fishery.

The Gulf Coast Fisherman summed up the situation very well.

“The Great Red Snapper Count results reveal that there may be roughly three times more red snapper in the U.S. Gulf of Mexico than we once thought.  This is great news!  Moreover, the impressive number of red snapper residing over unclassified bottom represents an important discovery.  It’s possible that these fish may help to replenish the reef aggregations so that those areas of natural and artificial structure can continue to sustain high levels of harvest.  Future studies will likely investigate the ecological roles of the red snapper inhabiting unclassified bottom, as well as their specific contributions to the Gulf of Mexico red snapper stock.

“The findings from this project may fundamentally change the way the Gulf of Mexico red snapper stock is assessed by federal and state officials…The results of the Great Red Snapper Count are clearly impressive, but exactly how these results will impact commercial and recreational fishermen is less apparent.  In particular, it’s unlikely that quotas or bag limits will be tripled.  Since Gulf of Mexico red snapper are still under a rebuilding plan, and harvest from natural and artificial habitats is very high as confirmed by the Great Red Snapper Count team, more red snapper doesn’t necessarily mean more harvest.  One thing is for certain:  fisheries managers responsible for making decisions about Gulf of Mexico red snapper will move forward cautiously to ensure that the results of decades of diligent rebuilding are preserved.  [emphasis added]”

That’s just what happened.

NMFS advised that

“Results of the Great Red Snapper Count and [an] interim analysis are expected to be reviewed by independent experts.  The Gulf of Mexico Fishery Management Council’s Scientific and Statistical Committee will also review the results…We will continue to work with our partners on the Gulf of Mexico Fishery Management Council and its Scientific and Statistical Committee to peer-review the assessment and adjust red snapper management as appropriate.”

And as things turned out, the subsequent peer review of the latest Gulf of Mexico red snapper stock assessment raised some questions about the Great Red Snapper Count data.  A summary of one peer review meeting noted that

“The overall conclusion of the group was that the presented stock assessment model was not suitable to proceed to an Operational Assessment and that instead a Benchmark Assessment and another full review should be conducted.”

While all of the criticism did not revolve around Great Red Snapper Count data, with much addressing how the Gulf should be divided up into separate areas, how to incorporate the Great Red Snapper Count data was also an issue, with the meeting summary saying

“the SSC thought it prudent to create a topical working group to explore how to better include information gathered from the [Great Red Snapper Count] in the stock assessment process.  The SSC recommended that some of the principal investigators, or other available contributors from the GRSC could participate in the workgroup.  The results of these deliberations would be made available, so that documentation of how or when GRSC data is integrated could be reported out.”

While such cautious approach might seem prudent, it outraged the tackle industry/boating industry/anglers’ rights crowd threw the expected hissy fit when NMFS didn’t immediately allow a larger recreational harvest.  The Coastal Conservation Association put out a press release whining about how

“it would have been reasonable to expect the results of the GRSC simply become the new benchmark.  NOAA insisted that those findings would have to be calibrated and synched up with the data streams and techniques it had used in the past.  The same data streams and techniques that the GRSC had shown to be inaccurate by a factor of at least three.”

Of course, the last sentence of that quote wasn’t quite true, as the Great Red Snapper Count confirmed the accuracy of federal mangers’ estimates of red snapper populations on high-profile structure; NMFS may never have looked on the unclassified bottom because it lacked the resources to do so, but that has little or nothing to do with the accuracy of its data or techniques.

But the CCA just needed to throw a tantrum, when it didn’t get the result that it had been more-or-less guaranteeing its members since sometime around 2017.

For them, the Great Red Snapper Count wasn’t really “great” at all, even though it did significantly expand or knowledge about red snapper distribution in the Gulf of Mexico.

Still, that didn’t stop the CCA and fellow travelers from working to spend more taxpayer dollars trying to expand the “great fish count” approach to other species and other places.

Their next approach was a simple riff on the first, the so-called “Great South Atlantic Red Snapper Count.”  It followed the established format, in which friendly lawmakers had Congress appropriate cash for a study of red snapper abundance, that would hopefully (from the industry/anglers’ rights standpoint) prove that there were more fish around than NMFS believed.

As described by the ever-reactionary Blair Wickstrom, in the pages of Florida Sportsman,

“As it stands today, the current stock assessment, which indicates we’re overfishing red snapper, is set in stone until 2028.  However, we have hope that the independent 30-month study dubbed the Great South Atlantic Red Snapper Count will provide much-needed clarity on the true stock assessment.”

It’s just not clear what Wickstrom, and the rest of the industry/anglers’ rights cabal, expect the “true” stock assessment to say, and how they expect it to help them.

Nobody disagrees that the South Atlantic red snapper stock is responding well to management measures.  Although the stock was badly overfished as recently as 2010, when spawning stock biomass was only 9% of the target level and the fishing mortality rate was more than four times the fishing mortality target, things have improved since then.  In June 2005, NMFS found that the stock was neither overfished nor experiencing overfishing.

So, red snapper abundance, per se, isn’t really the problem.

Yes, a bigger estimate of spawning stock biomass might lead to a somewhat larger annual catch limit, but the recreational sector already enjoys a reasonably high annual catch limit right now.  In 2025, the annual catch limit amounted to 509,000 red snapper, which should have been enough to keep most recreational fishermen happy, even if the commercial sector gets to land about 28% of the fish.

A low annual catch limit isn’t the problem.

The problem is that out of that 509,000-fish limit, about 475,000 are caught by recreational fishermen, then tossed back over the side of the boat to die, and never end up in fishermen’s coolers.

The recreational and commercial fishermen are forced to share only the remaining 34,000 red snapper that don’t get fed to the sharks and the crabs.

So the anglers complain that they only get to enjoy a 1- or 2-day red snapper season, at the same time that they’re killing most of their red snapper when that season is closed.  At the same time, they’re fighting to prevent NMFS from closing the season for all South Atlantic snapper-grouper for a few months each year, and so cutting back on the current, unconscionable waste.

In doing so, they also find themselves firmly impaled on the horns of a dilemma.  On one hand, they want to argue that the ocean is filled with red snapper, so that they can enjoy longer seasons and perhaps a bigger bag.  But on the other hand, they can’t admit that high red snapper abundance means that anglers can’t avoid catching—and inadvertently killing—loads of red snapper during the closed season, in numbers high enough to justify setting more than 90% of the annual catch limit aside to cover dead recreational discards.

They’re caught in a lose/lose situation, one that the Great South Atlantic Red Snapper Count won’t be very great at resolving, even if and when it is incorporated into the next stock assessment.  A count is the wrong tool for the problem at hand.

And that brings us up to today, when the results of what folks are calling “Great Amberjack Count” are being trumpeted in the outdoor media.

Once again, we’re looking at a situation where a coalition of industry and anglers’ rights groups prevailed on local congressmen—those political action committees are certainly useful things—to allocate $10 million to study the abundance of greater amberjack in the waters stretching from North Carolina to the Rio Grande.

The motivation remains the same, impeaching the stock assessments relied upon by federal fisheries managers, so anglers can put more dead fish on ice.  While that wasn’t much of an issue in the South Atlantic, where amberjack supply pretty well satisfies angler demand, an article that appeared in the July 25 edition of The Outdoor Wire noted that

“it is a completely different story in the Gulf of [Mexico].  Currently, no greater amberjack season has been set for 2026, and the previous seasons were set so that anglers would have something to catch when for-hire (charters) red snapper season is closed.  The [Alabama Deep Sea Fishing Rodeo], which is held on the third full weekend of July each year, hasn’t had an amberjack category in more than 15 years.”

Once again, we’re looking at a comprehensive study that was conducted by a big team of very competent and capable scientists; I recognize a lot of their names, and have spoken to a few of them over the years about different species.  I’m not going to get into the fine details of the entire, 600-page report, but its Executive Summary provided some relevant findings:

“The overall and regional estimates…were within the scale of the most recent stock assessments of Greater Amberjack.  For the South Atlantic, the estimate derived from underwater cameras was 3.08 million with a percent coefficient of variation [a measure of uncertainty]…of 35%.  The estimate derived from using acoustics was similar, 3.09 million, with a higher CV of 41.5 %.  For scale of comparison, the terminal year (2018) of the latest South Atlantic Greater Amberjack Stock Assessment was 2.64 million.  While a CV around the stock assessment estimate is not reported, annual estimates over the past 20 years of the stock assessment (1999-2018) ranged from 1.7 to 3.9 million age 1+ Greater Amberjack.”

So, the study does not conflict with the findings of the last stock assessment, with respect to amberjack in the South Atlantic.

When it comes to amberjack in the Gulf of Mexico, the Executive Summary informs us that

“Our point-estimate for the camera-only Gulf of [Mexico] population size is higher than that from the terminal year (2018) of the latest Gulf of [Mexico] Greater Amberjack Stock Assessment (4.34 million in our study vs. 1.39 million from SEDAR 39).  However, the CV from the camera-only estimate is quite large, at 46.4%...For comparison the last 20-year range for SEDAR 59 is 1.39 to 3.50 million…The acoustic estimate derived by this study for the Gulf of [Mexico] region was 1.45 million with a CV of 21%. 

The [principal investigators] recommend the video-based methodology for any comparisons.  Among the reasons for this choice is that the length frequency distributions can be derived.  These length frequencies indicated differences in size composition between the three major areas (W. Gulf, E. Gulf, and SA).”

The Executive Summary also included a warning.

“The [principal investigators] also express caution with any direct comparisons of our results to the stock assessment results.  We list the range of population size estimates derived from the stock assessment purely to inform the reader of the scale of our estimates compared to past management assumptions.  While there is some overlap—for example, camera-based fishery independent surveys are used in the stock assessment and used in our estimation—the methodology used in the stock assessment is fundamentally different than adopted in our study.  Further, our study is intended to be a point estimate in time (2023) and successful management requires estimating rates of exploitation on an annual basis…  [emphasis added]”

Predictably, the angling press failed to heed that warning, and began blasting out reader—and advertiser—pleasing headlines such as

“Study Finds Twice as Many Amberjack Than The Federal Authorities Reported,”

and

“Great Amberjack Count Estimates Far More AJs in the Gulf,”

which suggest that the results of the Great Amberjack Count and the Gulf of Mexico stock assessment are directly comparable, when the report makes it very clear that is not the case.

Hopefully, the data that the Count developed will not be rushed into the stock assessment as a result of that sort of hype.  Hopefully, it will instead be given all necessary consideration so that, like the data from the Great Red Snapper Count, it is only included into the stock assessments after thorough and appropriate scientific review.

The Great Amberjack Count, like the other counts described earlier, was certainly a good thing, because it finally gave top fisheries scientists enough funding to do meaningful and needed research into an economically and recreationally important, and heavily exploited, species.  That, in itself, is a sort of greatness.

But it and the other studies can only truly be great if they expand our understanding of, and improve the sustainability of, marine fish stocks.

Just putting more dead fish in anglers’ coolers doesn’t make them great at all.