WHAT ATLANTIC HALIBUT CAN TEACH US ABOUT STRIPED BASS MANAGEMENT

 

We can learn a lot about managing today’s fisheries by looking back at how yesterday’s fisheries died.

The first thing we need to understand is that no one—at any time—set out to kill off a fishery.  Instead, fishermen merely plied their trade, trying to support themselves and their families by doing what they did every day—going out, catching fish, and bringing them back to the dock, usually to sell, but also for their own consumption. 

Those fishermen were out on the water every day, and certainly noticed changes in their fisheries.  Maybe the biggest fish that they caught were no longer as large as they once were.  Maybe the fish were arriving a little later in the year, and leaving a little sooner.  Maybe they were having to travel farther to find fish consistently, as some of the traditional close-to-home spots became only spotty producers.

But they shrugged off those changes, telling themselves that fish come and fish go, and did what they needed to do to keep putting fish on the dock.  The one thing that they didn’t do, and probably never considered, was intentionally reducing their landings to preserve declining fish stocks.  They were fishermen, after all.  Their job was to catch fish, bring them back to the dock, and turn them into money that would keep their families housed, clothed, and fed.

But in the long run, reducing landings was the most important thing that they could have done.

Along the northeastern coast, Atlantic halibut were probably the first fish to suffer severe overfishing.  Halibut had little to no commercial value prior to the 1830s, but as domestic markets for the fish opened up, the fishery became profitable.  In an article titled “What Appeared Limitless Plenty:  The Rise and Fall of the Nineteenth-Century Atlantic Halibut Fishery,” originally published in the January 2008 issue of Environmental History, author Glenn M. Grasso described what happened then.

“Like concentric circles moving away from Massachusetts’ North Shore, successive localized depletions progressed into the regional depletion of Atlantic halibut.  Fishermen in Massachusetts Bay, the area that had sustained fishing pressure longest, first observed the decline.  From the earliest colonial records, halibut were plentiful close to the shore, and two centuries later, Goode still claimed halibut were ‘very abundant’ in Massachusetts Bay, especially ‘before 1830, [when] those who wished to catch halibut had no difficulty in finding an abundant supply within a few miles of shore.”  However, the fish, Goode reported, ‘were gradually exterminated in the bay.’  When inshore halibut became scarce, the industry concentrated its efforts on the substantial halibut stocks on the offshore banks, especially Georges Bank, during the 1840s, 1850s, and 1860s.  This camouflaged the degree of resource degradation: it was easy to ignore halibut’s decline in coastal waters because the bulk of the industry now focused on the plentiful stocks offshore.  In less than a generation, intense commercial demand and unrelenting fishing pressure destroyed the Massachusetts Bay inshore fishery by the 1850s.’

“Fishermen sought halibut close to shore whenever possible and coastal areas continued to suffer fishing pressure…The crumbling Massachusetts Bay fishery and the viable Gulf of St. Lawrence fishery illustrate how, depending on geography, dearth and plenty could exist simultaneously.  However, inshore fishing still targeted both breeders and brood, and the lessons of the Massachusetts Bay fishery were not learned by those fishing in the Gulf of St. Lawrence…

“Although the industry’s solution to inshore decline was to head offshore, the plentiful halibut found on Georges Bank throughout the 1850s were disappearing by the late 1860s.  The Civil War created greater demand and pushed up prices, which in turn led to increased pursuit of halibut…Once the premier halibut fishing ground, Georges Bank was fished out by 1870.  Trawling, wartime demand, and consumer taste resulted in the halibut’s depletion in a locale once crowded with fish.”

Then, as is too often the case today, fishermen focused solely on the money to be made by putting dead halibut on the dock, and ignored warning signs that the fishery was in deep decline.  Even when they acknowledged that the halibut stock was not doing well, fishermen in the 1800s, just like fishermen today, made excuses and took no responsibility for the stock becoming depleted.

“Nature, rather than overfishing, was blamed for the halibut’s disappearance.  Contemporary commentators for popular audiences saw migration: ‘The seaward movement of the Halibut has been noted by American fishermen,’  National Geographic magazine retrospectively reported in 1923.  ‘When the taking of halibut first began, it was most abundant on Georges Bank.  Later, it gradually disappeared from the banks and went farther out to sea…”

Today, Grasso tells us,

“Halibut remain in the northwest Atlantic today, both near-shore and further out to sea.  However, it is clear that by the early twenty-first century, stocks are mere shadows of their original populations, even though no precise numerical baseline exists for early halibut stocks.  The virtual eradication of Atlantic halibut came in part because nineteenth-century fishermen failed to develop a cogent institutional memory.  Halibut fishermen in the 1920s and 1930s looked at smaller fish, taken in lesser quantities, yet still believed that they were landing good fares…”

Such time-limited outlooks, which have since been dubbed “the shifting baselines syndrome,” still plague many, perhaps most, of our fisheries.  However, the greatest lesson that striped bass managers, as well as striped bass fishermen, should take away from the Atlantic halibut debacle isn’t the shifting baselines, but the fishermen’s laser focus on putting fish on the dock, as they ignored signs that the halibut were in serious trouble.

That’s because the striped bass fishery is seeing similar attitiudes today, although they are being expressed by the for-hire fleet, and not the commercial sector.

Like Atlantic halibut around 1840, striped bass are still reasonably abundant, with some year classes of fish abundant enough to be deemed “plentiful.”  Today’s fishermen have a gauge of stock health that wasn’t available in the mid-1800s—detailed stock assessments built on the best available scientific information, which are subject to peer review by recognized, disinterested experts before being released and used for management work.

The problem is that fishermen too often ignore them.

The current stock assessment, completed in 2018, told us that, as of the end of 2017, striped bass were both overfished and subject to overfishing.  An update to that assessment, released in October 2022, revealed that the overfishing problem has been resolved, but that the stock remains overfished, although it is rebuilding slowly.  A report appended to the update provided the unsettling news that, because recreational striped bass landings doubled in 2022, the overfished stock is unlikely to fully rebuild by 2029 if management measures remained unchanged.

In addition, data released by the State of Maryland shows that recruitment in the Maryland section of the Chesapeake Bay—the most important spawning area for the coastal striped bass stock—was far below average for the years 2019-2022, creating another obstacle to rebuilding.

So both fishermen and fishery managers know—or, at least ought to know—that the striped bass stock is facing serious problems, and that fishing mortality must be reduced to restore the stock to health. 

Acting on such knowledge, fishery managers at the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission, at the Commission’s May meeting, adopted emergency management measures intended to reduce recreational landings by placing a 31-inch maximum size on any striped bass retained by anglers, thus reducing what had been a 28- to 35-inch slot limit to 28 to 31 inches.

Despite such knowledge, the emergency measures have been strenuously opposed by most members of the for-hire fleet, who view the narrow slot limit as a threat to their income.  Like the halibut fishermen of the mid-1800s, they see the striped bass as nothing more than a fish to be killed and transformed into money, regardless of the state of the stock.  An on-line petition recently crafted by the Montauk Boatmen and Captains Association, although specific to that organization, sets out a position that is more-or-less the same for all of the objecting for-hires.

The petition quickly informs the reader that striped bass are important to the for-hire fishery, noting that

“one of Montauk’s most popular fisheries is striped bass.  In fact, more than 75% of our charter boat fleet focuses the bulk of their season on striped bass fishing…Striped bass fishing is truly the ‘bread and butter’ for most of our for-hire fleet.”

In fact, as I observed in an post that appeared in this blog about a month ago, striped bass are the most important recreational species in New England and the mid-Atlantic region.  If the regional spawning stocks suffered a serious setback, and became “mere shadows of their original populations,” as is the case with Atlantic halibut, many for-hire business, including those fishing out of Montauk, would probably not survive.

Logically, such dependence should cause the for-hire fleet to advocate for the sort of striped bass management that would ensure the long-term health of the stock.  For-hire operators ought to realize that if the striped bass stock collapses, their businesses won’t be far behind.  They ought to be celebrating the emergency measures as a first step on the road to rebuilding the stock.

But, as I noted before, that’s not the case.  Despite the very clear science supporting the emergency action, the Montauk petition deems such action to be “drastic, unreasonable, and unnecessary,” as well as “preposterous,” although it never even tries to explain how or why the science underlying such action is wrong.

Instead, the entire thrust of the Montauk Boatmen’s petition was one that nineteenth century halibut fishermen would have readily understood:  We’re fishermen, and we make our living catching, and keeping, striped bass.  We don’t like the emergency action because it might cut into our incomes.

The petition claims,

“The emergency action will have a direct adverse impact on our for-hire fleet.  Our customers expect to take fish home after paying a charter or party boat fare.  With the rising prices of fuel, bait, tackle and insurance, our captains have had no choice but to raise their rates.  From our customers’ perspectives, the increase in rates is oftentimes offset by the ability to put fish in their coolers to bring home to their families.  Particularly in light of rising costs for basic groceries, this trade-off is essential.  If our customers are unable to bring fish home, they will be less inclined to book a fishing trip.  This, in turn, also hurts our local businesses, including hotels, restaurants and shops, all of which rely on Montauk’s visitors to thrive.”

Let’s begin by acknowledging that, yes, a lot of folks who book Montauk charters look forward to bringing a few fish home.  And many of those folks enjoy eating striped bass, and might be disappointed if they couldn’t put a bass in the fish box.  So yes, the emergency action might cause fewer folks to book charters although, on the other hand, nothing stops a boat from targeting abundant scup or black sea bass, tossing a bunch of them in customers’ coolers and then, the grocery bill having been addressed, targeting striped bass as well.

In fact, many boats offer exactly that sort of multi-species trip to their customers, although whether they fish for bass first or later often depends on the stage of the tide.

We should also acknowledge that the average striped bass spawned in 2015, which made up most of the fish in the old 28- to 35-inch slot, measures 31.6 inches long this year, which is right in the middle of the former slot limit.  Since most of the 2015s will measure either above or below that mark, perhaps by a few inches, rather than being exactly 31.6 inches long, there is still close to a 50% chance that any 2015 caught will still fall within the narrower 28- to 31-inch slot; the odds of bringing a legal bass home from Montauk remains very good.

But for the purpose of argument, let’s assume that some customers will be discouraged from booking trips by the new emergency measures.  At that point, we need to think about comparative evils, something that the Montauk Boatmen completely failed to do.

If they, like the nineteenth century Atlantic halibut fishermen, ignore the signs of a declining stock, and convince managers to allow them to fish at 2022 levels, it is nearly inevitable that, in a few years, the effects of poor recruitment in Maryland will make themselves felt.  In 2026, fairly large numbers of bass from the very small 2019 year class will exceed 28 inches, and begin to enter the slot.  Even if the slot remained at 28 to 35 inches, that will sharply reduce the number of bass that anglers might take home.

In 2027, the 2019s will be the same size as the 2015s are today, and will dominate the slot.  Except, because the 2019 year class is so very small, “dominate” somehow feels like the wrong word; the slot will hold very few fish.  And because the 2020, 2021, and 2022 year classes (and probably the 2023, although we won’t know that for sure until October) are also very small, there will be no relief on the horizon.

By 2029, the rebuilding deadline that the ASMFC is trying to meet, the striped bass age structure is going to be very lopsided, with few bass between 26 and 36 inches available to anglers.  That lack of fish will render arguments about the top end of the slot moot; whether the maximum size is 31 or 35 inches, there won’t be many fish in the slot to catch, much less to take home.

So here’s where the lesser of two evils comes in.

Are the for-hire boats—at least those which plan to be in business five years from now—better off if the ASMFC places real restrictions on landings, perhaps coupling a 28- to 31-inch slot with no-harvest seasons, so that the stock continues to rebuild, and leaves enough bass in the water for anglers to catch, even if they can’t take them home?

Or are they better off if managers heed their petition, return management measures to 2022 levels, and allow the spawning stock to decline, so that by 2029, there are few 28- to 35-inch slot fish in the ocean?   In that case, if an angler caught a bass between 31 and 35 inches, they could still take it home, but because slot-sized fish would be so scarce, the odds of catching a bass of that size would be substantially reduced.

Folks who were around in the early 1980s would remember what that’s like, although few of the people who fished back then bothered to target striped bass; in 1982, fewer than 2% of all saltwater fishing trips taken in New York focused on the species, as there were so few bass around.  Given that, if striped bass abundance fell back to 1982 levels—or even stayed a bit above—those Montauk charter boats who fish for bass 75% of the time might end up spending most of their time at the dock.

Of course, that’s all five or six years in the future, and if the Atlantic halibut’s story teaches us anything, it’s that fishermen rarely look that far ahead.  Their job, at least as they see it, is to catch fish NOW, and worry about the future on some later day.

And by the time that they finally get around to worrying, it’s far to late for that worrying to do any good.