In case you're not a regular reader of Commercial Fisheries News (CFN), I announced a few months ago that I'd be retiring from CFN after the December issue.  As it turns out, that will also be the final issue of Commercial Fisheries News. We're sending the December CFN to press this week, jammed-packed with memories, and proud to end this 53-year run gracefully in a time when print publications are sadly disappearing.

You'll find my editor's note on retirement ("The Secret To A Happy Ending Is Knowing When To Roll The Credits" - thank you for the inspiration, Patterson Hood) below.  In the meantime, I'm just looking to break the endless cycle that things have been in for the last few years, continue to put the Lyme and Babesiosis behind me, keep on putting words together in some fashion - and maybe make a little more music, as well!

My announcement, as it ran in the October CFN Editor’s Note:

The Secret To A Happy Ending Is Knowing When To Roll The Credits

I wish I could claim the bit of wisdom above, but it’s a quote from songwriter Patterson Hood – an excerpt from the lyrics to “A World Of Hurt” by his band Drive-By Truckers.

To me, the message is simple: you can either end a situation on your own terms or wait for it to end itself ... however that may be.

And that’s why I’m writing this.

In this era of many folks being more apt to watch a quick video on their phone than read a printed piece of any length, I figure I’d better get to the heart of what I want to say sooner rather than later.

I am retiring from my position at Commercial Fisheries News, effective with the December CFN, which goes to press in November.  I made that decision earlier this year.

And, as it turns out, that will also be the final issue of Commercial Fisheries News.

After 53 years, it’s time to roll the credits.

My decision

If you’re a regular CFN reader, you’re no doubt aware of the stroke that sidelined publisher Rick Martin in July of 2021.  At the time, I figured, “If we can just keep things going for a few months and give Rick a chance to get back on his feet, we’ll be fine.”  The thought of doing it was daunting, but we made it happen, hoping our friend and leader would soon return.

But that was not to be.

For a while, Rick was making good progress ... but then he experienced a series of health setbacks – and the ground lost was slow to be regained, if at all.

Sadly, Rick passed away in June, succumbing to an aggressive cancer that showed up out of nowhere; the final blow in a series of way too many.

Personally, I really didn’t think about the long term “What if?” questions of Rick not being able to return back in 2021 – I just needed to do what I needed to do.  I preferred the fishing analogy of running back and forth from the deck (where I’d always been) to the wheelhouse, where Rick’s chair sat empty – long enough to make sure we were on course.  

But it wasn’t just me: Keith Kastelic, our production wizard, made the digital magic happen, while business/office manager Leslie Carr – who had just begun a well-earned retirement before Rick got sick – spun around, rolled up her sleeves, and asked, “What needs to be done?”  

The Great Spirits gave us all a break when Janet Acker came onboard to take over the engine room from Leslie in 2023 ... and in the meantime, our contributors helped fill the pages of CFN with quality writing.

It was a lot – and didn’t leave much time left over for regular life – but it was working.  We cranked out some nice-looking issues.

I was getting tired, I’ll admit – but I just figured ... well ... I don’t know what I figured.  I figured we’d just keep going, I guess.

And then came last October, when I hit the wall.  The diagnosis was three separate strains of Lyme with a side order of Babesiosis – most of it from one cussed tick, although there was suspicion that I’d been lugging at least one form of the Lyme for a while.

That’s when I realized: I couldn’t get sick.  Or, rather, I could get sick all I wanted – as long as I could still do what I needed to do to keep CFN going: sell and design ads; edit the incoming copy and lay out story pages; and do my own writing and photography, of course.

I’m proud that we’ve never relied on filler of any kind – but it doesn’t allow for any stumbles.  

The months that followed were fueled by a regime of triple antibiotics and supplements.  I’d like to think that no one ever looked at the issues from this past winter and spring and had any sort of inkling that they were the work of someone basically doing shifts between desk and bed.

And it’s not just me: without Keith and Janet, none of this can happen.

And it scared me.

In the meantime, there was the weirdness of the economy; the uncertainties of the future of commercial fishing (pick your worry); and slow death of print publications.  It all translated into lost advertising – and that’s what pays the bills.  (Subscription income pays for the postage to mail the papers, if you’re lucky.)

And that’s when I began to think that I’d had enough.

I want you to know: Rick knew about my plans to leave CFN back in the spring, long before his final battle.  And he and his wife Claire had only one concern: that I didn’t wait too long (for my sake) to get clear.

The obvious ... and not-so-obvious

At this point, some of you may ask (as some people have over the last year or so): “Why not just hire more hands? Get some help?”

Here’s the story: Compass Publications Inc. in Virginia – the folks who purchased CFN from founder Robin Alden over 30 years ago – have had their own struggles.  Without getting into things too deeply, I will say this:

Nobody from Virginia has contacted me since Rick got sick over four years ago.

That’s the truth.

The bottom line: it’s been up to us to take care of ourselves – and that’s what we’ve been doing ... but it gets harder and harder every month.

And so, along with whatever was going on with me, there was the obvious question of, “How much longer can CFN go on being what it’s meant to be?”

This is where we come to Patterson Hood’s phrase about knowing when to roll the credits ... and however sad the news of CFN’s end may be to read about, believe me – it’s far better that we do this with some control over the situation, rather than wait for the inevitable to do it for us.

That definitely won’t be a happy ending.

If CFN was an airplane, ending with the December issue would feel as though we’d landed with the level of grace and dignity this publication deserves.

Continuing on as we are?  That’s a guaranteed nosedive into a cornfield, one way or the other.

I hope that you all – readers and advertisers alike – will stay with us through the December issue of Commercial Fisheries News.  I promise you these last couple of CFNs will be good ones.

I’ll have more to say as we go along, but for now: thank you all.

– Brian Robbins