Jes Hathaway is the editor in chief of National Fisherman magazine and NationalFisherman.com.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Monday, 02 November 2015
Last week, Oceana released yet another well-publicized report alleging widespread fish fraud (New Oceana study reveals scary news about America’s favorite fish). This time, the target was wild salmon and the big headlines heralded 48 percent mislabeling.
The “study” took a total of 466 samples in two separate surveys between 2012 and 2014. That’s an average of 233 samples per survey from grocery stores and restaurants. If they were split evenly between the two markets, then each survey sampled about 100 restaurants and 100 grocery stores. According to the Food Marketing Institute, there were 37,716 supermarkets with more than $2 million in annual sales in 2014, so that’s only the large retailers, which makes Oceana’s sample size 0.2 percent and 0.01 percent of the 1 million restaurants in the country.
Statistically speaking, this is nowhere near an adequate sample size. The reason number crunchers like a representative sample is because without a wide enough range, it’s easy for the samplers to target retailers (intentionally or not) who might be more likely to mislabel. For example, outlets in poorer neighborhoods where consistent staffing might more difficult or in areas where English is not the first language.
Oceana claims that off-season (winter) restaurant salmon samples were mislabeled as much as 48 percent of the time. However, that doesn’t mean 48 percent of the salmon labeled as wild was actually farmed. To get to their 48 percent figure, Oceana included one type of wild salmon labeled as another type of wild salmon. So the error of selling wild silver under the name wild king was lumped in with the substitution of farmed for wild. Because most of the mislabeling happened in the off season, Oceana advises that the best way to improve your chances of being served authentically wild salmon is to eat it in season. But I disagree.
I know other food segments deal with these kinds of reports — how often are Kobe and grass-fed beef replaced with cheaper substitutes? But the biggest hurdle we face in the seafood business is that Americans are already a little intimidated by seafood. There are so many kinds, different cuts, different seasons. How does one choose? And many are intimidated about preparation, as well.
So when big reports come out with words like “scary” in the title (is it really frightening to get farmed salmon vs. wild every once in a while? I’m no big fan of farmed salmon, but I’m not afraid of it), they do little to build already flagging consumer confidence.
I realize Oceana is just doing its duty. As an NGO, they are compelled to make big splashy campaigns to get eyes on paper and raise money so they can keep making big splashy campaigns. But as an advocate for the industry, I can’t ignore a report that does little to further consumer education.
Look at what farm-to-table menus and farmers markets have done for our cultural culinary aptitude. We are regularly eating food that would have been considered bizarre just a few years ago. If kale can be a massive consumer hit, wild salmon should be sold out in every possible application — fresh, frozen, canned and smoked.
To add insult to injury, Oceana published the report during national seafood month. Not exactly a celebratory moment.
One point on which I wholeheartedly agree with Oceana is that the first way to prevent from being duped is to ask questions about what you’re buying. I ask a lot of questions. I feel like it’s my duty to consumers who might not know what questions to ask. If the purveyors know you’re interested in the origins of your seafood, they might be more careful in labeling in the first place.
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Written by Jes Hathaway
Monday, 19 October 2015
We had our first snow of the season here in Maine over the weekend. But in Hawaii, some fishermen are preparing for a different kind of sleigh ride.
The state’s unique volcanic geography makes for some of the best deep-sea nearshore fishing on the globe. A small group of fishermen are keeping a centuries-old tradition alive fishing for big-eye tuna, mahi-mahi, octopus and many more species with just a sea kayak, a pole and a dream of a big check.
I can’t say I’m surprised that the Discovery Channel is there to capture it all in a new series, “Pacific Warriors,” which premieres this Friday, Oct. 23. The show features several teams of fishermen, including veteran Kimi Werner, who kicks the danger level up to 11 by free-diving up to 150 feet to spear her catch, holding her breath for up to four minutes.
As you may have come to expect from the Discovery Channel, the production value for this show is not lacking. A fish-eye lens captures the isolation of a small kayak on the open ocean. Camera angles abound on every catch, as well as the bloodletting losses and consequential shark swarms.
The show tries to ramp up the excitement by creating a competition between teams. For my taste, there’s no need for another layer of competition in a fishery with monster catches, incredible scenery and minimal gear. The nature of the fishery is a competition between man and beast. That’s enough for me.
Most of the participants have some element of attitude that seems quintessentially Hawaiian. But otherwise, they are infinitely relatable as commercial fishermen.
In the words of Boogie D., the 48-year-old world record holder for the largest barracuda landed in a kayak, “I love the ocean. It’s not all about the money. It’s my soul.”
Written by Jes Hathaway
Monday, 05 October 2015
Once upon a time, fishermen and environmentalists butted heads, pretty much all the time. Then for the most part, both sides slowly realized they had some things in common. We all want clean water (and plenty of it), preserved fish habitats, better fishing gear, more efficient engines, and the list goes on.
We are now in an era in which the environmental movement and the fishing industry often work well together to achieve common goals. But there are some groups who have little interest in collaboration, or indeed even hearing what the other side has to say.
Last week, the fishing industry watchdog Saving Seafood made public what they say are the results of a Freedom of Information Act request to Maine’s governor’s office that showed the New England-based Conservation Law Foundation was working behind the scenes (including attempts to reach out to some Maine state officials) in the hopes of securing an East Coast marine monument designation through the Antiquities Act, which does not require democratic review. The emails indicated that the group hoped President Obama could announce the monument plan at the Our Ocean Conference in Valparaiso, Chile, (taking place this week) and that they hoped to be well under way in the process toward that designation before any potential opposition was aware of it enough “to fight it, to organize against it,” said CLF’s Interim President Peter Shelley, according to Environmental and Energy Publishing.
The email discussion took place in late August, shortly before the story broke in the mainstream press and NOAA agreed to hold a public meeting in response to industry angst over the potential designation. At the meeting, industry representatives made the point that designation of this monument will do nothing that fishery managers aren’t already doing with longstanding closures. But a unilateral, permanent closure of offshore waters has the potential to drive another wedge between environmental groups and the fishing industry. We don’t need more wedges; we need more work together.
In the emails made public, I noticed that the Conservation Law Foundation’s Shelley and Executive Vice President Sean Mahoney publicized fact sheets, a map and a list of supporters for the monument, but explicitly sought to keep economic data out of these communications.
Why did the CLF want to keep economic data separate from their conversations with prospective political supporters? Is it because there’s no economic justification for this monument? Or perhaps it’s because there’s an economic justification to avoid the designation. Shelley responded to some of my questions via email, saying that "there is a great deal of evidence suggesting that permanent protection benefits the local economy."
If that's the case, then I imagine the evidence would be well worth sharing. However, it seems to me that a permanent area closure is at the very least short-sighted, given the dramatic shifts in climate and species we have seen in recent years. The best advantage we have now to effectively manage fisheries and coastal economies is flexibility and the ability to respond quickly to these sudden and sometimes unpredictable changes. Permanent ocean closures seem about as effective as eliminating hurricane forecasts for the Gulf of Mexico simply because they haven't had a big storm there for several years. The weather, like fish populations, doesn't make permanent shifts.
Regardless of the economic or climatic data, the bottom line is that the closure of this area in perpetuity strips us of our ability as citizens to manage the area as a resource in the future.
Americans are sick and tired of petty political bickering. It is time to work together. It is time to leave the extremists on the fringes and make way for the majority of us in the middle to have an intelligent, respectful conversation. As stakeholders, it’s our job to demand that of everyone who steps into the fray, whether they speak for NGOs or for the fishing industry.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Monday, 21 September 2015
This weekend, I got invited to a public wild fish and fisheries promotion page on Facebook created by the always-pondering and plate-piling Lori French.
#WeFishWild is public so that fishermen and those who sell their own fish can post pictures of their work day and links to places where J.Q. Public can buy the fruits of their labor. If I like a post, then some of my friends on Facebook will see it and learn something new about that fishery and a place to buy the best seafood in the world — wild American.
Please join and share (just make sure you read Auntie Lori’s rules first).
Now if you have time to post your pics to Facebook, you have time to send me your Crew Shots. Please send photos taken this year to email@example.com, and be sure to include Crew Shots 15 in the subject line.
I will need to know the full names of those pictured (from left to right) the boat, home port, location (if not the home port), fishery and gear type. The more information you include and the larger your image, the better your chances are for getting into the magazine or on the cover!
The deadline for Crew Shots submissions is Oct. 31, 2015. Don't miss it!
Written by Jes Hathaway
Monday, 14 September 2015
Last week, the fishing industry lost a great advocate in Zeke Grader, 68. I met Zeke at our 2011 Highliner Awards ceremony in Seattle. That year we honored Larry Collins of California, but his Dungeness season kept him working instead of attending the ceremony. Zeke spoke on his behalf and used the opportunity not to get political but to praise Larry’s work off the boat to educate locals about the small-boat fishing fleet. As Zeke’s time came near, Larry reached out to me to return the favor. “We wouldn't have been fishing for the last 20 years without all his selfless work,” Larry said.
Zeke was a one of the few constants of California fisheries. When it came time for him to step down as executive director of the Pacific Coast Federation of Fishermen’s Associations and the Institute for Fisheries Resources, a position he held for 40 years, friends, family and colleagues showed up en masse to honor him.
Zeke was one of the first fishery advocates to reach out to environmentalists in search of common goals. “He comes into a situation looking for what can be done that will benefit all sides,” said Dave Bitts, president of the federation and a 2007 NF Highliner. “He will not ever do a deal that is bad for fish.” Zeke fought for clean water, abundant fisheries and a healthy fishing fleet.
“What I recall most about Zeke was his ability to cut to the chase and fight against all odds,” said Patricia Schifferle, director of Pacific Advocates and an adviser to the federation, “demanding the water flows essential for the health of our salmon and other species essential to our fishing heritage.”
Born William F. Grader in Bellingham, Wash., Zeke was just 3 when his family moved to Fort Bragg, a California fishing and timber town. There, his uncle made fertilizer from fish scraps and his father founded Grader Fish Co., a seafood broker and processor, where Zeke worked unloading at the dock through high school.
He went on to serve in the Marine Corps, graduate from the University of San Francisco’s School of Law, and pass the notoriously challenging California bar in 1975, just before the Magnuson Act would overhaul the landscape of federal fishery management. A group of West Coast fishermen formed the PCFFA in response to the changes Magnuson would bring and named Zeke as their executive director. He essentially made it a lifetime appointment, stepping down in June of this year as his health was flagging.
“His lobbying was largely responsible for the passage of the 1988 Salmon, Steelhead Trout and Anadromous Fisheries Program Act, which called for a conservation plan to double wild salmon numbers,” said Bill Kier, a California fisheries consultant and close friend of Zeke’s. “He then used that legislation as a mandate for reforming the federal Central Valley Project… the Central Valley Improvement Act passed in 1992.”
He also helped modernize the Magnuson Act, successfully litigated to accelerate water quality restoration under the Clean Water Act, and helped protect fishing grounds by advocating for effective oil spill prevention and response policies.
“We have fairly robust fisheries on the West Coast, with mostly owner-operated, family-owned boats,” said Bitts. “This is Zeke’s legacy. That’s how it’s supposed to work, and it’s up to the rest of us to keep it that way.”
We’ll miss you, Zeke, and we’ll carry on in your honor.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Tuesday, 18 August 2015
I’ve been hearing great things about Barton Seaver for years, most of which can be summed up with, “He’s got a really interesting perspective on the industry.”
But any time I go to hear a chef speak about the fishing and seafood industries, I’m a little wary, as I was last week when I attended an event at the Gulf of Maine Research Institute. I presume that chefs know a good deal about seafood itself and some about the fishing industry — primarily through the lens of NGOs. But that’s not what you get with Barton.
Not only is he an engaging and eloquent speaker, it’s very clear that he thinks — a lot — about seafood, where it comes from, what it means to us historically and culturally and what it should mean if we want to keep eating it.
Some of the greatest seafood marketing minds know full well how important it is to have chefs on your side. After all, these are the people who introduce many consumers to new proteins, dishes, sauces, preparations, flavor profiles. These are the people who make the mundane magnificent and the unusual approachable.
What we hope after a consumer tries a new type of fish or preparation is that he or she will work up the courage to try making it at home. Perhaps not with the same mastery as a chef, but buy it, cook it, eat it and come back for more.
And if we look at tilapia’s meteoric rise in this country, we cannot dismiss the notion that Americans can be sold on fish. The hiccup is that while more Americans are eating tilapia — generally farm-raised in Asia — they are also getting to be more choosy about other types of protein.
Tilapia is the equivalent of store-brand family-pack chicken. You’ve seen it, a pile of wan meat squeezed onto a massive, plastic-wrapped styrofoam platter. Cheap meat has a place in the market, sure. But do you want to eat family pack and only family pack forever?
My personal experience is that happy, free-range chicken is just tastier. And I feel the same way about fish. I’ve been beating the drum of “Eat Wild First” for a long time. But what I like about Barton-Think is his ability to take it one step further. Don’t just eat wild, be wild. Try something new. So how do we get tilapia eaters to upgrade?
Seaver says you have to sell the narrative of the food. When he opened his Washington, D.C., restaurant Hook, he had established relationships with 13 commercial fishermen and told them that if they caught it, he would serve it. One of his most popular dishes was built around the bait from an otherwise unsuccessful trip.
Hook offered 78 different species of fish on the menu in just the first year, and it was a roaring success. In that one restaurant, Seaver proved that you don’t have to offer the standard top five fish.
Americans will eat interesting food if you sell it to them. Right now, all those tilapia eaters are primed for an upgrade to what American fishermen have to catch, the same way farmed salmon eaters were primed for the flavor explosion that is wild salmon. It’s up to us to sell it to them.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Wednesday, 05 August 2015
A couple of weeks ago, I attended a Northeast Fishery Science Center outreach meeting at the Gulf of Maine Research Institute in Portland. The stated agenda was to get feedback from stakeholders about the assessment process for Northeast groundfish.
We were told in no uncertain terms during that meeting that the current assessment would not allow data gathered via cooperative research because it was considered a new data set. The lone exception, however, would be new data gathered via recreational collaborative research showing survivability rates of rec discards in Gulf of Maine cod because it includes “high-quality information.”
The presumption being, I suppose, that collaborative research conducted by federal researchers working with commercial fishermen is not of high enough quality to be permitted in the assessment of a federally managed fish.
Frankly, something stinks, and it’s not the cod.
As meeting attendee Maggie Raymond, director of the Associated Fisheries of Maine, pointed out, “Anything that could possibly result in a higher quota could not be included” in the stock assessment.
Last week, in yet another blow to the fleet struggling to survive a 75 percent quota cut, NMFS denied the council’s emergency request to suspend the fishermen-funded, fed-required observer program. Why? Perhaps because they have bought into the notion that the only way to properly assess the fish stocks is to count what gets caught.
Anyone who has ever been fishing will tell you that what you catch often has little to do with how many fish are in the water but is often a result of where you’re fishing, how your gear is set, and what the conditions are both above and below the waterline.
This is why fishermen look askance at assessments based on one or two tows on one day, set by researchers who may or may not understand the gear in an attempt to account for 20 species of commercial fish.
This is the kind of “high-quality data set” researchers are using to manage our fisheries.
But let’s assume the observers are not there to contribute to assessment research and only to account for bycatch. If you want to count bycatch, you’d be better off creating incentives for fishermen to land bycatch, count it at the dock and then donate it to food banks and schools (everyone in the community wins here). Then spend some money analyzing where and why it was caught and then adjust gear, fishing zones and fishing times to reduce the amount of bycatch. Or better yet, incentivize fishermen to communicate at sea (which many of them already do in order to avoid catching the choke species that can end your fishing year with one bad set) in order to avoid bycatch.
It seems that at many opportunities, we are throwing practical approaches out the window. And we are hurting much more than just the fishing families as a result. We are strangling shoreside processors, gear suppliers, retail businesses, and yes, the appeal of the New England working waterfront, which many tourists spend thousands of dollars to experience every summer.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Tuesday, 28 July 2015
About a month ago, I watched a video that documented the reunion of a Burmese fisherman and his family after he had been forced into seafood slavery 22 years prior.
Myint Nang left his home in 1993 in search of decent wages in Thailand. At just 18 years old, he was the head of the household, having lost his father to the fishing industry three years before.
Once he was over the border and finally on a fishing boat where he hoped to make enough money to send home to his family, Myint reports that the captain of the Thai fishing boat said, “You Burmese are never going home. You were sold, and no one is ever coming to rescue you,” according to the Associated Press.
The workers onboard were beaten, starved and shackled. Once back on land, Myint escaped into the Indonesian jungle, like many before him. He worked for five years as a farm laborer. But he missed his family so much, he went back to fishing with a promise from a captain that he would return Burmese fishermen to their home country in exchange for work. Another promise broken. Myint made another narrow escape.
Years later, a friend told him that an AP report on seafood slavery had spurred the Indonesian government to repatriate former slaves that had escaped to the nation’s islands. To date, more than 800 former slaves have been returned to their homelands.
I hope all of our readers have been following the stories on slave labor in the seafood industry. There was a time that I thought eating wild U.S. seafood relieved me of culpability in this disgusting business. But the chances are that most of us buy products from the illegal seafood trade.
According to yesterday’s New York Times article, “the United States is the biggest customer of Thai fish, and pet food is among the fastest growing exports from Thailand, more than doubling since 2009 and last year totaling more than $190 million. The average pet cat in the United States eats 30 pounds of fish per year, about double that of a typical American.”
That’s right, our pets eat more seafood than we do.
We’ve recently made strides toward preventing illegal fishing off and near our shores. But we have to demand more oversight of seafood imports. We can help solve this problem, not just by serving as good examples of sustainable and relatively safe fisheries but by leaning on the Thai government to oversee its industry or risk trade with American companies.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Tuesday, 14 July 2015
I am always entranced by a boat under sail. It reminds me of how far we’ve come and sometimes of what we’ve lost in the art of boating. The beauty of those vessels belies the toil that took place on and below their decks to keep them running, the hard-boiled disposition of the men who sailed them with no safety gear, no electronics, no hope of rescue if things went awry.
A replica of the historic French frigate Hermione (air-mee-own) is closing out her American tour of ports along the U.S. East Coast. Today she marks Bastille Day (the French Fourth of July, if you will) in Castine, Maine. She travels next to Lunenburg, Nova Scotia.
In 1780, Louis XVI sent the Marquis de Lafayette across the Atlantic aboard Hermione to announce the commitment of the French fleets in assisting our fledgling military to victory against what was then the world’s most robust naval force.
“Our Marquis,” as he was known, played a pivotal role in securing American independence from England. Against the wishes of his own French government, the marquis, just 19 in 1777, secretly sailed to our shores and volunteered to help President Washington defeat the British navy. He returned home the next year and dedicated himself to lobbying on behalf of the American cause.
Lafayette returned to these shores with great fanfare, as does the replica of the ship today. It may serve as a reminder that even the toughest and most munitioned enemy may be defeated with the right allies.
Fishing photographer Jay Fleming captured her glory in Chesapeake Bay among modern-day fishing boats and passing under the ultramodern Bay Bridge. She may not be a fishing boat, but I believe she serves as a reminder that times weren’t necessarily simpler back then. They were just different.
But the spirit of fishing industry was founded in the same spirit that Lafayette had in striking out on his own and following his own passion. I know plenty of fishermen who would say they’d rather risk their own lives at sea so long as it was up to them to make their own way and create their own livelihood.
The country our founders fought so hard to establish nearly 250 years ago was once the most magnificent blend of independence, innovation and foresight. I hope we will continue to foster our historic industry with those founding principals. The boats and crews may be different, but the drive is the same — to be free to make our own way in the world without the oversight of a distant and disconnected sovereign.
Written by Jes Hathaway
Tuesday, 30 June 2015
It’s the time of year when I want nothing more than to be on the water. And of course I say that as a non-fisherman. I’m just one of the many recreational users of our waterways. (Hence, my fair-weather friendship.)
I write often about conflicts among user groups, and naturally many fishing groups keep a hairy eyeball on the oil industry. The threat of oil spills, as we’ve seen most recently in California, is daunting for those who make their living harvesting the ocean’s creatures.
Mishaps, after all, are guaranteed. Humans make mistakes. So we must assume when we allow oil and gas exploration and drilling in a fishing rich area that there will be leaks and spills — ideally not catastrophic ones.
But if anyone can understand what it’s like to be maligned, it’s commercial fishermen. Fleets and individual boat owners all over the country have made great strides to improve their selectivity, fuel consumption, onboard safety, product quality and overall sustainability. And yet, there is plenty of negative press about how commercial fishing has depleted resources to the point of no return.
The solution, we chant on a seemingly endless loop, is gear and tech improvement. And I say that’s just the kind of commitment we’d like to see from the oil and gas sector.
Enter: sugar-based surfactant. According to Maritime Executive magazine, researchers at the City College of New York have developed a biodegradable agent that can clean up water-based light crude oil spills.
If you’ve followed the Deepwater Horizon spill coverage, you’re likely familiar with Corexit, the chemical surfactant that sank the gushing oil to the seabed. We will never know what the results would have been without Corexit. But we may also never know the damage these patches of oil have caused to marine ecosystems, as much of the coagulated oil remains on the sea floor.
A biodegradable surfactant could be the first step in harmonious coexistence for the oil and fishing industries, not only in politics but in practice.
Caption: Navy boats anchored along the shoreline during the 1989 Exxon Valdez oil spill clean-up efforts in Alaska’s Prince William Sound.
Page 4 of 38
The National Fish and Wildlife Foundation announced last week the sixth round of grant awards from its Fisheries Innovation Fund, a program launched in 2010 to foster innovations that support sustainable fisheries in the United States.
The goal of the Fisheries Innovation Fund is to sustain fishermen and fishing communities while simultaneously rebuilding fish stocks.Read more...
Alaskan Leader Fisheries will give Inmarsat’s new high-speed broadband maritime communications service, Fleet Xpress, a try on the 150-foot longline cod catcher/processor Alaskan Leader.