I spent the first three days of last week in Washington,
D.C., rejoining old friends and meeting new faces who share a common interest
in supporting, and hopefully improving, the federal fishery management system.
Federal fishery managers have come in for more than their fair
share of criticism in recent years, much of it coming from various recreational
fishing organizations that seem to feel that their “right” to take home more
fish than either good science or good sense will allow is somehow being
infringed. My wife and I never had any
kids, but we know enough couples who did that, when I hear the recreational groups’ attacks on the federal management system, I'm always reminded of the cries of “You don't love me any more” that indulged but ungrateful
children aim at their parents any time they don’t get what they ask for.
In fact, the recreational sector has a lot to be grateful for, particularly with respect to federal fisheries. Fish stocks are generally healthy, with the biomass of some well over their target levels; as to those that are not in good shape, most have rebuilding plans that are headed in the right direction.
Of course, there were a couple of nuances to those removals.
Georges Bank yellowtail flounder shifted from
“experiencing overfishing” to “status unknown” due to uncertainties in the
stock assessment, so it's possible that overfishing is still going on, while SouthernNew England/Mid-Atlantic winter flounder shifted from “overfished” to “rebuilt”not because the biomass increased, but rather because the fish is in such deeptrouble that recovery is no longer deemed likely, and biologists decided thatthe current stock size is about as good as it’s going to get.
But even taking those two stocks out of the equation, today there are
fewer overfished stocks, and fewer stocks experiencing overfishing, than there
were a year ago, and that can only be a good thing.
Yet it seems that Congress usually only hears
from fishermen when they have complaints, and doesn’t hear enough about how well
the system is working and how it has benefitted both the recreational and the
commercial sectors, or how it needs to be tweaked in order to meet a changing
future. So the American Saltwater Guides
Association put together a team that included recreational fishermen and
folks from the recreational fishing industry, representing just about all of the
mid-Atlantic states, to give elected officials (or, more often, such officials’
staff) a bit of insight into what is right with the federal fisheries
management system, and where it might need a little more help.
I’ve always felt it was an important thing to do. Prior to the outbreak of COVID-19, I’d been
on the Hill quite a few times, even testifying before a House subcommittee on
one occasion. Going back after a
three-year hiatus felt almost like coming home; I’ve always been fascinated by
politics, and always found Washington a very special place, where concerned
individuals can, if they work hard enough, still make a difference.
Last week, we all had our stories. Mine was a story of change.
As the oldest member of the group, I can look back over six decades spent on and around the water, beginning at a time when wooden boats—often wooden rowboats—dominated the angling scene, monofilament lines were still wiry and unruly nylon strands, and hollow fiberglass was still the ultimate material for building fishing rods.
I remember a time before
regulation, when the only rule anglers needed to worry about was a 16-inch
minimum size on striped bass. I remember
the decline of most of our important coastal fisheries—not just the New England
groundfish that have proven so very hard to restore, but also the decline of
fish such as summer flounder, scup, and black sea bass.
I can easily recall 1989, when the summer flounderpopulation dipped to its nadir, and even federal surveyors had trouble finding
a fluke more than two years old. I can
recall black sea bass being overfished as recently as 2007, how fishing
improved throughout their recovery, and how, as sea bass abundance drew more
and more angling effort, the average size of the fish again began to decline.
I can describe how passage of the Sustainable Fisheries Act
of 1996, which gave teeth to the
Magnuson-Stevens Fishery Conservation and Management Act and, in so doing,
compelled the regional fishery management councils and federal fisheries
managers to end overfishing and rebuild overfished stocks within a time certain,
led to vastly increased fish abundance and a vastly improved angling experience
in every coast of the United States—and yes, I have fished them all.
And I can talk to members and staff about the changes in the
ecosystem that have occurred in the time that I’ve been on the water. It was striking how a couple of the staff
members—and remember that staff members tend to skew young—are fishermen, who
fish in Long Island Sound and Great South Bay, yet never caught a winter
flounder.
When a staffer, who is also an angler, learns that New
York anglers took home well over 18 million winter flounder in 1984, before the
population began to slide downhill so badly that current landings are too small
to be reliably counted, but probably amount to—at best, one or two hundred
fish, and might be far less, and that the population collapsed during his or her lifetime, the need for effective
fishery management, as well as the cost of bad management, becomes very clear.
But lost fisheries and collapsed fish stocks are only a part
of the story; recreational fishermen have also benefitted from a
warming ocean.
Warm
water has moved the center of black sea bass abundance farther north; although
we’ve always caught a few out of New York and New England, the population has
exploded northward over the past decade, causing northeastern landings to spike. Yet quotas still reflect, at least in part,
past patterns of abundance, instead of the current reality.
And then there are dolphin (a/k/a “mahi-mahi”).
For my first thirty years on Long Island, when it was
midsummer, and I wanted a few fish for dinner, I’d fish the inlet and the
nearshore lumps, hoping to put a few fluke in the box. Today, it’s generally easier to run a few more
miles offshore and look for dolphin, which we can reliably target any time
between mid-July and mid-September.
When it’s easier to catch what we used to think of as a tropical/subtropical species, rather than the formerly reliable summer flounder, change is surely in the air, but currently, there is nothing in Magnuson-Stevens that addresses such change. Neither shifting stocks nor climate change is addressed in the current statute. That needs to change, and helping Hill staffers understand what’s going on in the water is the first step in making that happen, just as it’s the first step in explaining why NMFS needs more money to develop the science that will let fishery managers adjust to the new reality.
Those of us who have spent a bit of time talking to
legislators know that a single meeting won’t change the world. But such meetings do begin conversations,
which can lead to more talks which, in time, can result in positive
action or prevent bad ideas from becoming law.
Despite all the current skepticism leveled at the political
process, it remains the key to maintaining and improving federal fishery
management. Despite such skepticism,
every time I’m in Washington, I meet people on Capitol Hill who are honestly
trying to make a difference, and care about well-managed fisheries.
And so my efforts, and the efforts of a lot of other folks
whom I know, continue. I look forward to
being in Washington again, in the hopefully not-too-distant future. Because history has already shown that dedicated,
motivated people can move the system in the right direction.
And we intend to do it again.
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