THE ASMFC: WHERE THINGS STAND TODAY

It’s impossible to fish anywhere on the East Coast, and not have your fishing experience impacted by the actions of the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission.  

That’s particularly true in the Mid-Atlantic and southern New England, where some of our most important recreational species, including striped bass, weakfish and tautog, are managed solely by the ASMFC, while others, such as bluefish, black sea bass, summer flounder and scup, are managed by the ASMFC in state waters, and by the Mid-Atlantic Fishery Management Council in federal waters more than three miles from shore.

Regular readers of this blog know that I’m a frequent critic of the ASMFC, not so much because of what it does, but because of its failure to live up to both its potential and its self-professed standards.  The ASMFC has a very qualified and dedicated staff—you would have a hard time finding a better team anywhere in the fisheries arena—and if you take the time to read its Interstate Fisheries Management Program Charter, you’ll find that it states, among other things, that 

“Conservation programs and management measures shall be designed to prevent overfishing and maintain over time, abundant, self-sustaining stocks of coastal fishery resources.  In cases where stocks have become depleted as a result of overfishing and/or other causes, such programs shall be designed to rebuild, restore, and subsequently maintain such stocks so as to assure their sustained availability in fishable abundance on a long-term basis.”

But in the real world, that somehow doesn’t seem to happen.

For example, despite the Charter’s injunction to “prevent overfishing,” the most recent amendment to the tautog management plan, adopted in 2017, adopted management measures that allow overfishing to continue in Long Island Sound until 2029, with only a 50 percent probability of it finally ending even then.

And despite the Charter’s instruction that “where stocks have become depleted…[conservation] programs shall be designed to rebuild, restore, and subsequently maintain such stocks so as to assure their sustained availability,” in its entire 78-year history, the ASMFC has failed to rebuild, and then subsequently maintain, even a single fish stock under its sole jurisdiction at sustainable levels “on a long-term basis.” 

It came the closest with striped bass, which it successfully restored after the stock collapsed in the late 1970s and early ‘80s.  But then, in 2011, it knowingly and intentionally refused to respond to scientists’ warnings that the stock was on the road to becoming overfished again, and in 2014, after a benchmark assessment informed the ASMFC that biomass was trending too low while fishing mortality was above the target level, it chose not to comply with clear language in its own striped bass management plan that required it to implement a 10-year rebuilding plan.  

As a result of such failures, the most recent benchmark stock assessment found that the stock had become overfished, and subject to overfishing, once again.

The Charter also states that

“Conservation programs and management measures shall be based on the best scientific information available.”

While the ASMFC has a much better record of following the science than it does of ending overfishing and rebuilding overfished stocks, there have been far too many times when the science is subordinated to short-term economic concerns.  Unfortunately, that is most often the case with species in the greatest distress, which may be suffering not only from excessive harvest, but from non-fishing-related causes as well.

We saw that in the case of both northern shrimp and the southern New England stock of American lobster, where a warming ocean severely imperiled the health of the stocks.

In the case of northern shrimp, the scientists on the ASMFC’s Northern Shrimp Technical Committee consistently warned of poor spawning success, advised that quotas be set very conservatively, and warned against opening the fishery before mid-February, to protect the egg-bearing females needed to replenish the stock.  Yet despite that advice, and despite the threat posed by a warming ocean, ASMFC’s Northern Shrimp Section, which actually crafted the rules, set quotas high enough to assure overfishing, and opened the season in January, when the females were still carrying their eggs.  So through some combination of overfishing and warming seas, with an assist from an imprudent ASMFC, the stock collapsed, and has not been fished since 2014.

The case of southern New England lobster is not yet quite so dire, but is another example of the ASMFC ignoring scientific advice.  

In 2010, the ASMFC’s American Lobster Technical Committee issued a report titled “Recruitment Failure in the Southern New England American Lobster Stock,” which among other things stated that

“The southern New England stock is critically depleted and well below the minimum threshold abundance.  Abundance indices are at or near time series lows, and this condition has persisted…

“Given additional evidence of recruitment failure in [the southern New England stock] and the impediments to stock rebuilding, the Technical Committee now recommends a 5 year moratorium in the [southern New England] stock area.  [emphasis added]”

That recommendation was peer reviewed by a panel of international experts, and was upheld by a majority of the panel.  The dissenting panelist didn’t see the need for a moratorium, but did believe that fishing effort should be cut by 50 to 75 percent.

Yet the ASMFC refused to take any meaningful action, being more concerned with a moratorium’s—or deep harvest cuts’--impact on fishermen than on fishermen’s impact on the “critically depleted” lobster stock.

So much for basing management “on the best scientific information available.”

In light of the ASMFC’s multiple failures to live up to the standards set in their own organic documents and management plans, it was interesting to read that organization’s 2019 Annual Report, which was recently released, and like all annual reports, strives to provide the organization’s best face to the public.

The Report’s introduction notes that

“In this report, you’ll find a quick guide to stock status for the 27 species groups the Commission manages,”

goes on to state that

“In 2019, the Commission maintained sustainable fisheries for a number of rebuilt species such as Gulf of Maine/Georges Bank American lobster; Atlantic cobia, Atlantic menhaden, black sea bass, and summer flounder,”

and also acknowledges that

“there is still substantial work ahead to rebuild valuable Atlantic coastal fisheries resources such as Atlantic shad and river herring, American eel, Atlantic striped bass, tautog, and bluefish.”

Those statements probably deserve some additional thought.

Start with the number of stocks that the ASMFC manages.  

The 27 “species groups” cited in the introduction can be broken down into 33 separate stocks, as some species are composed of more than one regional stock, and the health of those regional stocks can vary widely.  One species group, river herring, is made up of two species, and the health of such species differs from watershed to watershed, while the coastal sharks group is made up of multiple species, some of which remain very abundant, and some of which are in real peril.

Also consider what it means to say that the ASMFC “manages” a species.

Some species, such as striped bass, are under the ASMFC's sole jurisdiction, and thrive or fail based on the ASMFC's chosen actions.  Other species, such as black sea bass, summer flounder, and bluefish, are only managed by ASMFC when in state waters, and are otherwise governed by the legally-enforceable conservation provisions of the Magnuson-StevensFishery Conservation and Management Act.  It’s not difficult to argue that, in the case of those species, federal managers are primarily responsible for any rebuilding that went on.

Looking at the health of fish stocks from that management perspective, there are 18 species groups, and 23 distinct stocks, managed solely by the ASMFC.  Of those 23 stocks, 11—about 48 percent—are listed as depleted/overfished, while only 5 stocks—not quite 22 percent—are listed as not depleted/not overfished.  The state of the other 7 stocks is unknown.

Of the 11 depleted/overfished stocks, the “status trends” of 7 remains “depleted/declining,” 3 more are of “concern” and only one, Atlantic sturgeon, is listed as “recovering/rebuilding.”  

So it doesn’t appear that the Charter’s mandate that “In cases where stocks have become depleted as a result of overfishing and/or other causes, such programs shall be designed to rebuild, restore, and subsequently maintain such stocks” is being followed with any particular vigor.

Outgoing ASMFC Chairman Jim Gilmore, the Director of New York’s Division of Marine Resources, included an upbeat but clear-headed assessment of where the ASMFC stood at the end of 2019 in the Annual Report.  Reading it as a critical observer, you can see both the ASMFC’s potential and where its problems lie.

He directly addressed striped bass, saying

“I am very pleased about our quick and decisive response to the decline in the striped bass resource and am hopeful the measures that we approved in October will end overfishing within one year.  While this is an important first step in recovering the stock, there will be more that we will have to do to fully rebuild it.  But, rest assured, we will do so.  We’ve been in a much more dire position before with the striped bass resource and were successful in restoring the stock.  There is no reason why we cannot do so again.  [emphasis added]”

So yes, he understands that there is more work to be done.

He knows that “there is no reason why” the stock can’t be fully rebuilt.  

But what no one can predict is whether the ASMFC will have the political will, and the courage, to adopt the management measures needed to get the job done.  It lacked that will in 2011, and it lacked that will in 2014, despite the clear language of the management plan.  Is it realistic to expect them to exhibit greater will today?

Certainly, there will be those who will oppose such rebuilding, in order to increase their short-term kill.

In the case of menhaden, he observed that

“the [environmental reference point] assessment has the potential to significantly change the way we manage menhaden and its primary predators.  However, there is much more work to be done before we get there and decisions will need to be made about management goals and objectives for each of the species involved.  We are heading into uncharted territory…  [emphasis added]”

Again, it’s a question of motivation and political will.  

Will the ASMFC opt for a naturally functioning coastal ecosystem, with sufficient forage to support healthy, sustainable population of all the major predators?  

Or will it choose to play God, and attempt to manipulate the relationships of predators and prey, in order to create some sort of economically-optimized ecosystem where species considered more desirable for one reason or another are given a greater priority than others, and abundance is manipulated based on the potential financial gain?

If the latter choice is chosen, things will probably not end very well.

Finally, he noted

“…I remain deeply concerned about the political and stakeholder pressure placed upon us as individual states and as an organization as a whole that can fracture our unity and undermine interstate cooperation.  We all face the dilemma between state needs and the greater good for the resource, and the real possibility that if you go for the greater good, you might not have a job when you get home.  While I have no easy fix, the one constant that will aid us in our decision-making and in ensuring the sustainability of our fishery resources is the absolute need to put the science first.

“When faced with challenges or conflicts, the tendency is want to [sic] bunker down and take care of what’s mine.  But in the world of fisheries management, there really is no mine, there is only ours.  The only way to protect what’s ours and do what’s best for the resource and our stakeholders is to remain united and approach problem solving together.  Let’s find ways to harness the vast array of knowledge and expertise we have among our Commissioners, scientists, and stakeholders to find creative solutions to the problems before us.  Most importantly, let us not forget that we are all here for the same reason—we are genuinely committed to being good stewards of the resource under our care not just for short-term gain but for the benefit of future generations.  [emphasis added]”

All that needs to be said is in those two attenuated paragraphs.  With those words, Mr. Gilmore showed his fellow Commissioners their only route to success.

We need science-based management.  We need managers acting for the overall good, not for parochial interests.  And we need to think always of the long term, and of future generations, and not merely about short-term gain.

That’s the kind of management we should expect from the ASMFC.  That’s the kind of management that the ASMFC’s Charter calls out for.  But it is not the kind of management that we have seen from the ASMFC so far.

So far, we still see too many Commissioners tolerate overfishing, oppose needed rebuilding, and try to avoid taking the science-based measures needed to rebuild and maintain sustainable stocks.  

We still see far too much parochialism of the sort displayed at the February meeting of the Atlantic Striped Bass Management Board,where states such as New Jersey and Maryland fought only for themselves, andnot the health of the striped bass resource.

That needs to change.

Hopefully, Commissioners like Mr. Gilmore, who have already demonstrated their will to sustainably manage those species under their control, will bring about needed change.

But even if change doesn’t come from within, it must come, though it takes an act of Congress to get there.

FISHERIES MANAGEMENT: THE LIMITS OF TRADITION AND LOCAL KNOWLEDGE

Fisheries management is a science, and a very challenging discipline.  Dr. Michael Armstrong, of the Massachusetts Division of Marine Fisheries, once reportedly said that

“Managing a fishery is like managing a forest, except it’s always night and the trees move.”

The problem is compounded by stakeholders who regularly challenge the validity of fisheries science, claiming that their observations of local fisheries, and the opinions they develop as a result, have greater validity than the conclusions biologists draw for their review of objective data.  

Even if fishermen concede that the scientists might, by chance, be right, needed regulations are often opposed on the grounds that they threaten “traditional” fisheries.

It might be hard to find a better example of both phenomena than the New England cod fishery, which has been devastated by overfishing, but which still sees fishermen fighting fishery management efforts with claims that the cod stock is in better condition than scientists believe, and with assertions that regulations are destroying New England’s centuries-long fishing tradition.

A recent article in The Guardian, titled “Can New England’s cod fishery survive?” examines both of those assertions and puts them in a rational perspective.

It notes that both fishermen and fisheries managers admit that the cod fishery is in trouble, but that they see different causes for the problems.

Fishermen tend to blame fisheries managers, and the regulations that they impose, as the major obstacle to a healthy fishery.  As the New York Times reported a few years ago,

“Some fishermen say they are seeing more cod in the Gulf of Maine than they have in years.  Many in Gloucester have already reached their quota for the fishing year that started in May and are looking to buy the rights to catch more from others who have not yet reached their federal limit.  Recreational fishermen, who land more than 30 percent of the total Gulf of Maine cod catch, are reporting similar observations.

“’I’m telling you, it’s out there,’ said Russell Sherman, who started fishing for cod in 1971 and has just about reached his annual allocation of 25,000 pounds.  ‘We’ve had no problem locating codfish.”

The fishermen honestly believe what they say, but their perception is biased.  The New York Times piece went on to say

“’Fishermen will almost always tell you that, and it’s not that they’re lying,’ said Mark Kurlansky, whose 1997 book, ‘Cod:  A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World,’ documented how Canada’s once-abundant Atlantic cod were fished almost to extinction.  ‘Landing a lot of fish can mean the fish are very plentiful, or it can mean the fishermen are very efficient in scooping up every last one of them.’”

The recent article in The Guardian adds an additional, and perhaps subtler, insight that supports Mr. Kurlansky’s comment.  It quotes Dr. Micah Dean, a biologist with the Massachusetts Division of Marine Fisheries.

“’By most measures, cod in the Gulf of Maine are at a low point.  Many of our fishermen will tell you that they aren’t seeing this decline, and have a difficult time believing the scientific perspective on the cod stock,’ he says.

“’But there are good reasons why fishermen have this perspective.  Regulations shape the way fishermen see the cod population.’

“For instance, he notes that a high-minimum mesh size for trawls and gillnets lets most small cod escape from fishermen’s nets, which he argues prevents them from witnessing the alarming lack of juvenile recruitment.

“’In addition, there’s an extensive system of areas closed to fishing, many of which were designed to protect spawning cod.  This prevents fishermen from observing the lack of larger adult cod returning to the spawning grounds.’

“’Ultimately,’ he says, ‘we shouldn’t expect fishermen and scientists to see the same things, given the way each group observes the population.”

In other words, perception makes a big difference in how fishermen see the world.  That’s not true just in the case of cod, but of all other species as well.

Going back to Mr. Kurlansky’s comments, people who have been in the fishing business for a while, and have managed to survive all of its challenges, tend to be very good fishermen.  Part of being a good fishermen is knowing where fish are likely to be under varying conditions, and then fishing there, rather than in places where fish are unlikely to be.

Thus, a good fisherman can often bring back decent catches even when fishing is slow, by targeting the few concentrations of fish that remain.

Scientists see the world in a very different way.  If you’re a scientist, trying to create a valid model assessing a fish population, the empty spaces matter, particularly if they’re in places where fish used to be.  The beginning of the striped bass collapse in the 1970s is a case in point. 

It was clear from the Maryland juvenile striped bass survey that fewer young fish were entering the population.  The juvenile abundance index fell from a time series high of 30.52 in 1970 through about-average levels just over 11 in the next couple of years, then continued to decline through the 4s in the mid-‘70s before bottoming out at 1.22 in 1981.  Looking at those numbers, it was impossible not to see that the striped bass stock was headed for a crisis.

But very few fishermen were looking at those numbers.  They were cashing in on a bonanza of big striped bass spawned during the 1950s and ‘60s, fish so abundant that even inexperienced anglers had to do little more than swim a live menhaden or soak a chunk of dead bait in a reasonably “fishy” spot to connect with the largest striped bass of their lives.  

Experienced fishermen, both recreational and commercial, were doing far better than that.  Especially on Cape Cod and Block Island, where big fish were particularly abundant during that time, there were many anglers who refused to believe that the bass were facing any trouble at all. 

That's not atypical.  When biologists warn of a looming problem, fishermen’s first response is often skepticism.  

They’ll point to abundance in one or two places, and claim that all is well.  They'll argue that scientists are looking for fish in the wrong places, failing to understand that a valid survey must randomly sample the entire region, and not merely cherry pick a few "hot spots," as fishermen do.

At best, fishermen's views are based on subjective observations, and often include a big slice of confirmation bias that causes them to believe any information that supports their views, and reject any data that might force them to reconsider their favored position.  

We saw this in the black sea bass fishery, where fishermen were very willing to accept a stock assessment that indicated a biomass far in excess of the biomass target, and so, in their opinion, justified more liberal regulations, but rejected data that showed anglers’ landings already equaling or exceeding the recreational harvest limit, and so making such liberalization unfeasible.

Yet both sets of data came out of the same operational stock assessment, and the biomass estimate was based, in part, on recreational harvest; if that harvest was overestimated, then biomass would, of necessity, have to have been overestimated, too. 

But fishermen don’t think that way; they see abundance, so they want to land fish, and don’t often pay much attention to objective data that doesn’t confirm their observations.

While fishermen’s on-water observations can add color to systematically collected data, they will almost always be biased by the relatively limited spatial and temporal scope of a fisherman's activities, by fishermen’s tendency to fish where fish are most abundant, and by confirmation bias that leads fishermen to see what they want to see. 

Using such observations for anything more than fine-tuning management measures—say, beginning a season at a time when fish might bring a better price, or recreational demand is greater—or initiating new research will inevitably put fish stocks at risk.

When meaningful fishery management measures are imposed, and fishermen are unable to successfully challenge the science, their final fallback, which often finds a sympathetic ear among both politicians and the general public, is that regulations are destroying the fishing “tradition.”

Former Gloucester fisherman Sam Sanfilippo invokes such sentiments in his comments to The Guardian, when he says

“We’ve been regulated out of existence.  This used to be the biggest fishing community in the world.  Ice companies, wharves, fish dealers, truckers, supermarkets…All through high school, I was always a fisherman.  And here I am today:  recycler, bike seller, furniture-maker.

“I’m 50 years old and I don’t know what the hell I am.”

It’s a poignant statement, and it’s hard not to feel sympathetic to such fishermen’s fates.  A publication put out by Maine Sea Grant notes

“Fishermen indicated that fishing is part of their community’s social identity and this prevents them from giving up during hard times.  They find a source of resilience in the community’s history and dependence on fishing, and thus the importance of maintaining fishing traditions.”

Yet the problem remains that tradition is essentially backward-looking, and it’s hard to move successfully forward, into an increasingly complex and more populous world, when you’re constantly looking over your shoulder.  As Dr. Ayana Elizabeth Johnson observed in the Guardian,

“there’s a painful thing that we have to realize:  traditions don’t scale.  That transition—where we have to give up some of our traditions because they don’t work any more—it’s painful.”

Yet it’s a pain that must be endured.  If fisheries, and the fishermen who depend on them, are to survive, fishermen and fisheries managers must stop looking at the past, and instead focus on the future.  

Recreating both commercial and recreational fisheries, and casting them into forms that are sustainable and robust enough to survive the challenges posed by climate change, science-based regulation, expanding populations and increasing demands on coastal resources, will be the only way that such activities will ultimately survive.

If either fishermen and managers fail to adapt to the times, fisheries will collapse.

For everyone, that would be the most painful event of all.

EIGHTEEN MONTHS AFTER PASSAGE, "MODERN FISH ACT" UNDERWHELMS

A couple of years ago, and for three or four years before that, it was just about impossible to pick up an angling publication and not hear about the so-called “Modern Fish Act,” legislation more properly titled the “Modernizing Recreational Fishery Management Act of 2018.”

According to the bill’s proponents in the anglers’ rights, fishing tackle and boating industries, the Modern Fish Act would make major changes to the federal fishery management system.  In a somewhat breathless press release issued by the American Sportfishing Association shortly after the bill was signed into law, various representatives of those industries stated that the Modern Fish Act

“finally recognizes in federal law the differences between recreational and commercial fishing and adds more appropriate management tools for policymakers to use in managing federal recreational fisheries.”

The Act was called an

“important milestone for federal fisheries management and marine conservation,”

with one industry spokesman saying that

“The Modern Fish Act is a critical first-step solution towards establishing a framework for expanding access to recreational saltwater fishing, while ensuring conservation and sustainability remain top priorities in fisheries management.”

In a particularly frothy bit of hyperbole, the president of a large conservation organization, which has a solid track record on terrestrial and fresh water issues, but probably should have stayed away from the ocean until it was better informed, said that

“This bill becoming law is the most significant step forward in federal recreational saltwater fishing management in the forty-plus years of the Magnuson-Stevens Act,”

a statement that seemingly ignores passage of the Sustainable Fisheries Act of 1996, which was the law that, for the first time, legally obligated federal fisheries managers to end overfishing and rebuild overfished stocks, and led to the restoration of many recreationally-important fish populations.

After all, there is nothing more significant for recreational fishermen than having enough fish in the water to make it worth making the effort to go wet a line.

A year and a half has passed since that press release went out, and over that time, the impacts of the Modern Fish Act on fisheries management has been close to nil; in retrospect, all of the posturing after the bill’s passage, only some of which is quoted above, should probably embarrass the people involved. 

Last Wednesday, the Center for Sportfishing Policy, which spearheaded the drive to pass the Act, issued a press release that more-or-less admitted the law’s impotence.  The release quoted Jeff Angers, the Center’s president, who said

“While there has been some forward progress in implementing the Modern Fish Act, there is still a long way to go.  We knew this ship wouldn’t turn on a dime, and we will continue working with NOAA Fisheries, the regional management councils and the states to enforce the law the way Congress intended it.”

Given that the effort to pass the Modern Fish Act, even in the very watered-down form that was finally signed into law, involved extensive, and undoubtedly expensive, lobbying and public relations efforts, Angers is likely using that “we knew this ship wouldn’t turn on a dime” line a lot these days, as he talks to the Center’s various members and supporters, and explains to them, for one more time, why the money they spent on passing the law couldn’t have been better used for research and development, advertising their own products, or paying bigger year-end bonusses to their CEOs.

Given that such money was spent, the Center probably can’t afford to stop beating the Modern Fish Act drum now.  And while Congress is busy with COVID-19 and other issues at the moment, at some point it will get around to addressing other things, including the arguably overdue reauthorization of the Magnuson-Stevens Fishery Conservation and Management Act.  

When that happens, we can expect to see the Center try to revive some of the old Modern Fish Act provisions that were removed from the final version of the 2018 bill, and try to push them through in the reauthorization.

Thus, it’s not surprising that the recent Center press release also referred to an update of its “Modern Fish Act Progress Report,” which purports to show how the Modern Fish Act is changing recreational fisheries management.

Such Progress Report is an interesting document.  It looks at the five major sections of the Modern Fish Act, and rates the alleged progress that the government is making in addressing each one.  Progress is rated on a “traffic light” scale that assigns a color—green, yellow, or red—to each section, with green denoting that significant progress is being made, and red suggesting that little or no progress is being made at all.

The most recent version of the Progress Report, which was last modified on May 31, assigns one green, three yellow, and one red rating to the five sections.

The progress ratings for each section are, in turn, based on three criteria:  timeliness, stakeholder input, and substance.

The way those criteria are applied are arguably somewhat self-serving, and seem to overstate the actual progress being made.  

For example, if one looks at the analysis for Section 101 of the law, which requires the General Accounting Office to complete a study on reviewing recreational/commercial harvest allocations, one finds that top marks were handed out for all three criteria.  But the writeup describing where the matter stands makes it clear that very little was actually achieved.

The GAO’s report was completed within the one-year deadline created by the Modern Fish Act.  However,

“NOAA Fisheries told GAO the Agency does not have the legal authority to ‘direct’ the councils.  Therefore, GAO’s final report states the Agency should ‘work with’ the Councils to take the recommended actions.”

It goes on to say that

“GAO made two recommendations: 1) NOAA Fisheries should work with the South Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico councils to develop documented processes for conducting allocation reviews, and 2) specify how they will document their allocation reviews, including the basis for their decisions, whether fishery management plan objectives are being met, and what factors were considered in the reviews.”

It is very notable that the report neither set out criteria that would require reallocation, nor set forth a set of considerations that a regional fishery management council must use when making allocation decisions.  All-in-all, although the Center gave this option a top grade for “substance,” it seems that the report will do nothing more than lead the councils to generate a little additional paper; actually reallocating harvest will still depend on convincing a majority of council members to support such action, something that has been true since the councils were first formed.

Despite giving this item high marks, the Center effectively admitted that it was puffing up claims of progress when it wrote

“…These recommendations signify that there is still work to do to make the allocation process transparent and accountable to the American public.

“Engaging with the Councils, the recreational fishing and boating community will continue working with Congress to provide oversight of this important responsibility of allocating America’s public resources.  Depending on NOAA Fisheries’ follow-up actions on GAO’s recommendations, the color may change.  [emphasis added]”

Looking at that from the outside, it’s easy to say that given the details of the situation, the item never should have been rated “green” in the first place.  But viewing it from the Center’s perspective, it’s not hard to understand that they had to have at least one top-rated item, even if that rating was qualified, to show donors who might start asking questions.

The three “yellow” rated items show a similar tendency toward overstating success.

The Center gave such a rating to progress on Section 102, Implementation of Alternative Management Measures.  The idea here was to manage fish with “soft” fishing mortality targets, extraction rates, etc.—more or less the sort of management measures that have been proven not to work at the Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission—rather than the “hard” annual catch limits that have helped end overfishing and aided the rebuilding of many federally managed fish stocks.

Despite all of the hype that has surrounded the issue, its proponents can’t get around two things. 

The first is that Magnuson-Stevens requires annual catch limits to be established for all managed species, so even if recreational fisheries were governed by a fishing mortality target, the annual catch limit would still be there, anglers would still be held accountable for overfishing, etc.

The second is that such alternative management measures may already be adopted—so long as the annual catch limit remains inviolate. 

Thus, the Modern Fish Act really doesn’t add anything new to the law.  Still, the Center complains that while NOAA Fisheries invited “the recreational fishing community”—which really means spokesmen for the Center and its allied organizations—to speak to the South Atlantic and Gulf of Mexico fishery management councils, and that such councils have formed a working group to investigate alternative management measures,

“The agency report to Congress on Section 102 was submitted in March 2020 and contained few examples of true alternative management measures that would more effectively manage the recreational sector, though the Mid-Atlantic and the South Atlantic have been making some progress even before the Modern Fish Act passed the Congress.”

Which means that the Modern Fish Act didn’t have any real impact on what progress has been made, although the Center can’t exactly admit that in public.  

Instead, it says that

“We have encouraged Agency leadership to be proactive, encouraging Councils’ efforts on alternative management measures.  As those efforts bear fruit, the color will change to green.”

That last sentence probably should have been worded “If those efforts bear fruit…” since Magnuson-Stevens’ requirement of annual catch limits isn’t likely to go away.  Yet because NOAA Fisheries got high marks for stakeholder input on this one—even though it got panned for timeliness, while the substance of its actions remain an unknown—the Center gave this section a middling grade.

The Center gave the same grade to Section 103, which requires a study of the impacts of limited access privilege programs—what we often hear referred to as “catch shares”—in fisheries that anglers share with another sector.  

In this case, the Center noted that

“NOAA Fisheries has contracted with the National Academy of Sciences to conduct this study,”

and so awarded a top rating for timeliness.

However, the Center also complained that

“NAS assembled a panel of individuals who largely support LAPPs.  After the panel’s initial meeting in March 2020, we expressed concerns regarding its neutrality and the potential for bias in the final report.  As a result, NAS has expressed a willingness to address concerns about the panel composition, scope of the panel’s discussions and external review of the final report.”

It’s hard to blame the Center for making such a stan.  After going through all the effort and expense of having the study authorized by Congress, the last thing they would want to see is such study being conducted by an independent panel of international experts who have come to understand that catch share programs work to conserve fish, experts who might take the discussion into places the Center doesn’t want to go—such as catch shares for recreational fishermen or for-hire vessels—and come out with a report which concludes that catch shares are a good idea that we ought to see more of, not less.

It’s as if the Flat Earth Society managed to convince Congress to commission a report on the shape of the planet (and quite a few members of Congress, at least on one side of the aisle, might believe that a good idea), only to find that the panel drafting the report all believed that the Earth was more or less round…

So yes, this one is “yellow” too, even though eventual stakeholder input, as well as substance, remain unknowns.

Section 202, which called for another National Academy of Science report, this one on recommending ways to improve the Marine Recreational Information Program, which estimates anglers’ landings, and make it more useful for in-season management of fisheries, is in about the same situation as Section 103:  NOAA Fisheries acted quickly to commission the report, but the rest remains unknown.

However, here the panel was apparently more to the Center’s liking, representing

“a broad diversity of thought on this topic.”

The Center is also apparently pleased that NOAA Fisheries has created a new task force that will look into the feasibility of

“the generation, delivery, and use of electronically reported data from private recreational anglers.”

Given that in the real world, anglers have generally failed miserably at supplying such data, even when it is required by law, the odds of developing a direct-from-the-angler electronic reporting program that actually works and provides meaningful data is disappearingly slim, it’s difficult to believe that the panel will come up with meaningful answers. 

Even so, this one also somehow earned a “yellow,”  The Center's donors are undoubtedly pleased.

Bu the fact that the Center felt obliged to award progress on Section 201 a failing “red” grade suggests that thigs there must be really bad.

They are.

Section 201 is all about incorporating state and other sources of data, other than those developed by NOAA Fisheries, into stock assessments, harvest estimates and other management science.  The idea, although it’s never explicitly stated, is that the use of NOAA Fisheries data has resulted in scientific decision that often prevent anglers from harvesting as many fish as they’d like—although the same data has also led to decisions that have increased the abundance of many fish stocks and kept such stocks healthy over the years.

The Center and its affiliates apparently believe that if they want more angler-friendly decisions, they need to change the data that underlies them.  They want to see data from state agencies—which may be more interested in supporting local angling businesses and keeping their license-buying constituents happy than in maintaining abundant fish stocks in the long term—or even from “nongovernmental sources,” which could include sources financed by the Center and other industry organizations, used to manage federal fisheries.

The first problem that concept runs into is language in Magnuson-Stevens requiring that

“Conservation and management measures shall be based upon the best scientific information available.”

Thus, even if industry, or some anglers’ rights group, is able to cook the books with a study that it bought and paid for, unless that study passes scientific muster, it can’t be used for fisheries management.

And, despite the Center’s claim that such

“other data sources [have] tremendous potential to improve the accuracy and timeliness of harvest estimates,”

that hasn’t worked out in the real world, either.

I recently wrote of the problem that the Gulf of Mexico Fishery Management Council is having reconciling the Gulf States’ red snapper harvest data with the annual catch limits set in the federal fishery management plan.  Because the state systems are not calibrated to report landings in equivalent terms—and because the Texas system is so obsolete and inaccurate that any sort of mathematical calibration isn’t even possible—there is a real likelihood that the recreational red snapper catch limit will be exceeded in 2020, while the Council tries to figure out how to fix things for 2021.

Again, the Center complains that it didn’t get what it wanted, noting that

“The preliminary draft report to Congress was reviewed by the councils.  Some council stakeholders noted that the draft described the status quo but did not suggest ways to greater incorporate data and analysis management decisions.”

It’s probably a pretty good bet that the “council stakeholders” who objected to the draft report were, by and large, the same council members who traditionally carry the Center’s water (the Center has a very good relationship with the current administration, and so is also very good at getting people representing its interests, as opposed to conservation-minded fishermen, appointed to council seats).

So with low marks for both timeliness and substance, Section 201 got a failing grade.

That’s all a long way to say that the folks who supported the Modern Fish Act have not gone away.

While their bill has had little impact on fisheries management so far, they will be pushing the current administration to give them what they want, knowing that if things change after the November election, the chance of the Modern Fish Act gaining more traction is somewhere between slim and none.

But before then, vigilance is advised.

STRIPED BASS: MASSACHUSETTS STUDY COULD LEAD TO NEW RELEASE MORTALITY RATE

For a very long time, fishery mangers have assumed that 9 percent of all striped bass caught by anglers won’t survive release.  That figure comes from a 2011 study titled “Mortality of Striped Bass Hooked and Released in Salt Water.”

The authors of that study, Paul Diodati and Anne Richards, found that

“Depth of hook penetration in the oral cavity, anatomical site of hooking, gear type (single or treble hooks), and angler experience were significantly related to mortality…The final model included depth of hook penetration, gear type, and angler experience as predictor variables.  Predicted mortality ranged from 3% under the most favorable conditions to 26% for the worst set of conditions.  Predicted as well as observed mortality for the entire experiment was 9%...At the end of the experiment, condition factors were significantly lower for surviving hooked fish than for fish that had not been hooked.”

Many anglers have never been completely comfortable with the conclusions of the Diodati study.  Some, particularly including fly fishermen and others who do most of their fishing with single-hooked artificial lures, observe that, with a little reviving, all of their fish eventually swim away, and argue that their release mortality rate is well under 9 percent.

At the same time they, and others who catch their bass with cast lures, often point to those who “snag and drop” with live menhaden, chum their bass in with clams, or fish chunks of bait on the bottom, claiming that such activities lead to levels of release mortality well above the 9 percent standard.  Such people often also look askance at trolling for stripers, and claim that hooking a bass on a wire-line outfit, and dragging the fish through the water for a few hundred yards while it is being reeled in (because wire line boats don’t stop when a fish is hooked) also ups mortality numbers.

It’s possible that all those claims are right, which is why 9 percent represents a blended mortality rate that considers both the best and worst set of conditions that might confront a hooked fish.

It’s also possible that, under today’s conditions, the 9 percent number is no longer valid, and that a new estimate of release mortality is needed.

Either way, it’s important to get the release mortality figure right, since the last benchmark striped bass stock assessment, completed in late 2018, found that recreational release mortality was the greatest single source of fishing mortality across the entire coastal migratory stock.

It was thus heartening to learn that the Massachusetts Department of Marine Fisheries has embarked upon a new study to determine how many recreationally caught striped bass survive the angling experience.

Unlike the 2011 study, the new Massachusetts study will not involve fish contained in a dammed salt pond.  Instead, the fish will be fitted with acoustic tags and returned to the waters of Salem Sound, on the northeast Massachusetts coast.  For the first half of the study, which will take place this year, 175 striped bass will be caught on natural bait, both dead and alive, which will be fished on both circle hooks and traditional J hooks.  Next year, the study will be expanded to examine survival rates with artificial lures, and the difference in survival rates between fish caught on single and treble hooks.

The goal of the study is to determine the number of fish that survive for at least two weeks after release.  The acoustic tags will record the swimming movements of the fish; cessation of such swimming motion will lead to a conclusion that the fish has died.  Massachusetts has set out 29 acoustic receivers, covering most of the water in Salem Sound, to receive the tags’ signals.  Should a fish leave Salem Sound for other waters, acoustic receivers elsewhere in state waters, and even in the waters of other states, can pick up its tag’s transmissions.

It’s anyone’s guess as to what the new study will find.

There’s undoubtedly a widespread assumption that fish hooked on circle hooks, which generally hook bass in the jaw and rarely result in gut-hooked fish, will show a significantly lower mortality rate than those hooked on J hooks, and that mortality for circle-hooked fish will be substantially below the current 9 percent standard.

But anyone who expects the overall mortality rate to be less than 9 percent might be jumping the gun.

The new Massachusetts study will differ from the 2011 study in a number of ways that could impact the results.  One is the size of the fish involved.

The striped bass observed in the 2011 study were small; their length ranged between 27 and 55 centimeters (roughly between 11 and 22 inches).  More fish fell into the 32-33 cm (about 13 inch) size range than any other.  

Compared to the bass typically encountered by recreational fishermen in the northeast, those are pretty tiny fish.  If the new study encounters larger bass than those included in the 2011 study, and particularly if some of those bass are substantially larger, the mere stress involved in capturing the bigger bass could lead to a higher release mortality rate that offsets the mortality savings of circle hook use to a greater or lesser degree.

The bass in the new study are also going to be released back into Salem Sound, rather than into a closed-off salt pond.  

That could impact release mortality in a couple of ways.

First, it could prove a direct benefit to the fish, as they could seek out water temperatures most conducive to their survival.  In the salt pond used for the 2011 study, water temperatures ranged between 15 and 28 degrees Centigrade (59 to 82 degrees Fahrenheit), with bottom temperatures rising as high as 25^o C (77^o F).  Temperatures at the high end of that range could definitely have had a detrimental impact on the released fish’s survival; if so, fish released into the presumably cooler waters of Salem Sound may not succumb to temperature-related mortality in as high numbers.

At the same time, the dammed-off salt pond offered the released fish some protection from marine predators.  The authors of the 2011 study reported that

“The condition factors of control fish held in the net-pen did not change significantly during the experiment, but conditions factors of hooked fish held in the net-pen were significantly lower at the end.  For striped bass recovered from the pond at the end of the experiment, condition factors of both hooked and not-hooked fish had decreased significantly from the start of the experiment, but condition factors of hooked fish were significantly lower than those of fish not hooked.  [references deleted]”

It doesn’t take much imagination to believe that hooked bass, released into an inshore ocean that supports healthy populations of seals, dolphin, and various sharks, at a time when they are not in as good condition as bass that have not been caught and released, will be both more attractive and more vulnerable to such predators, and so will die at a higher rate than fish contained within a closed-off salt pond.

Thus, it is hard to predict just how the new study will turn out, and whether average striped bass mortality will be found to be higher or lower than the currently accepted 9 percent.

And whatever mortality rate the study ultimately reveals, there is no guarantee that such stjudy will reflect what goes on in the real world.  As the 2011 study points out,

“Hooking mortality estimated from an experiment cannot predict population mortality unless experimental conditions represent those encountered in the wild.  For species with a broad geographic range, such as anadromous Atlantic striped bass, it seems unlikely that mortality recorded from an experiment would equal that of the population over a time period of interest (typically a year).  However, experiments can identify critical factors influencing hooking mortality and can be used to develop models that predict mortality, given values of those critical parameters…Our present model would not be sufficient for estimating coastwide hooking mortality of striped bass, as it does not include effects of such factors as fish size and environmental variables (temperature, salinity) on mortality.”

The 2011 study—and, from what I can tell, the Massachusetts study—also doesn’t include the effects of hanging a big bass from a Boga-Grip or Chatillon scale, waving it around in the air while someone digs around looking for a phone or a camera, tossing it back into the water from an elevated jetty, rock or party boat deck, dragging it onto and over the stones and the sand, or…

Well, you get the idea.

The results of the new study won’t be perfect.

But depending on the size of the fish caught, how they are handled and a number of other factors, the new study should provide a good idea of whether the 9 percent mortality rate is a good reflection of reality, or whether managers ought to use a lower—or higher—rate to better reflect the impacts of recreational release.

Either way, better information can only lead to better striped bass management.