Blog by Patrick Shepard, MCCF Fisheries and Seafood Associate
Proposed deep sea coral protection closures. Source: DMR
“We fish right up to this edge right here.” Ryan Larrabee was speaking for himself and about forty other lobstermen who work in the proposed Mount Desert Rock Coral Closure as he pointed at a map on a projector screen at the New England Fishery Management Council’s (NEFMC) Habitat Committee meeting on April 14th.
“If we drop down over this edge, not only would we sink our gear, but it would be like running a 15-trap trawl down through a forest of birch trees and expecting them to come back in one piece. That’s where all your corals are. We know where they are and believe me – we stay clear of them.”
The NEFMC was tasked last fall with developing protection areas for sensitive coral habitat in the Canyons of Southern New England as well as the Gulf of Maine. Two of the proposed closures in the Gulf of Maine touch down smack in the middle of some of the most productive offshore lobster grounds in the region. Early estimates from the Maine Department of Marine Resources showed economic losses of over $4.2 million, and have since been proven too low. Ryan owns and operates the F/V Resolute out of Stonington and fishes “the rock” – as locals call it – quite hard in the winter. Fearing exile from one of his most lucrative lobstering grounds, I convinced him to spend about 10 hours stuffed into a car on a round-trip to Boston – a place that seems light years away from Downeast Maine.
In Boston, the Habitat Committee was scheduled to vote on their preferred alternative for the full Council to consider the following week – with virtually no formal testimony from the industry to date. Ryan was the only lobsterman in the room – understandably so given the long drive, nice weather, and high price. The options before the Committee ranged from a complete ban on fishing to only preventing “bottom tending mobile gear” (drags and dredges) in the identified coral zones – and very little information on how the fishery operates in those areas. After some confusion among the Committee members on the amount of fixed lobster gear being fished in the Mount Desert Rock area, it was Ryan’s queue to chime in.
He stepped up to the single microphone before the Committee, arched around him like a firing squad of button-up shirts – a venue that’s alien to most fishermen.
“We fish 15 trap trawls all up through here,” he said, “we have to comply with the whale rules in the area, and 15 is the minimum.” He went on to describe the fishing behavior of the vessels that work the area, all of whom he knows by name, boat and buoy color.
“The lobster fishery has coexisted with the corals here for hundreds of years, and for very good reason. The risk of losing a trawl on those steep rock faces would cost me about three grand. It’s just not worth it, and we stay away from those edges. But the large boxes drawn around them would cut me off from a lot of my income in the winter. If you want to talk about economic loss,” he said as he looked out the window of the Hilton Hotel’s meeting room.
“It’s about 70 degrees out, the seas are flat calm today, the price is $10.50/lb, and I’m five hours from home, sitting here with you.” He thanked the Committee for hearing his testimony and they thanked him for making the trip to speak with them.
Many fishermen have given up on attending meetings, citing that fishery managers already have their minds made up, and offering comment is a waste of time and money. But in this case it was different. The Habitat Committee wanted to hear what Ryan had to say, and they probed him with a lot of questions – good ones – about how the fishery operates in that part of the coast. It’s an area that’s sometimes foreign to federal fishery managers, and they were all ears. A motion was made to move forward with the least restrictive option of allowing fixed gear to continue to operate in the coral areas – a motion that had failed at Committee meetings twice before – and it passed unanimously.
Ryan and I cruised back into Maine, chattering about everything from the successful outcome of the meeting to sharing stories about my grandfather, Ellwell, who we both fished with as kids from time to time. It seemed as if Ellwell grew up in a different time, when technology hadn’t yet turned lobster boats into space stations, and fishermen didn’t have to travel to another planet to fight for their rights to harvest a resource.
The final step in the process is yet to come – a public comment period followed by a final vote at the June council meeting in Portland, ME. That’s one small step for fisherman, and a giant leap in the confidence of the public process.