5/5/05
The red snapper dilemma
Red snapper are to local fishermen as sunlight is to plants, a necessity.
So, it’s no surprise there’s a low-decibel grumble coming from
Destin Harbor.
It has leaked recently that a preliminary Gulf of Mexico Fishery Management
Council analysis concluded red snapper are still overfished in federal waters
despite a halfdecade of tighter rules. As a result, fishermen fear even stricter
regulations — a longer no-take season or reduced bag limit — are
on the way.
That red snapper remain overfished is no surprise. The only question that
now needs answering is: What do we do about the problem?
Like an alcoholic trying to kick the habit, the first thing recreational fishermen
need to do is accept there’s trouble. We contribute mightily to overfishing.
Can’t just blame the commercial fishermen.
Can’t just blame the shrimpers and their by-catch.
Need proof? Read a study published Sept. 24, 2004 in the highly regarded journal
Science.
"The Impact of United States Recreational Fisheries on Marine Fish Populations"
was authored by three scientists, including Felicia C. Coleman. She’s
a respected Florida State University biologist specializing in reef fish.
They concluded, among other findings and to the dismay of at least the Recreational
Fishing Alliance, that in 2002 recreational fishermen accounted for 64 percent
of the Gulf of Mexico harvest of fish "populations of concern."
Specifically, charter and monkey boats took 59 percent of all red snapper
caught in the gulf three years ago.
Scientists have to work with incomplete data to formulate fishery recovery
plans because there’s not enough money to permit the type of fish-catch
monitoring and onthe-water sampling that would prove beyond doubt the status
of a population.
Experienced fishermen, particularly those who make their living by taking
people fishing, have a right to offer their impressions about the health of
a fishery.
But, both groups have to start thinking outside the box when devising fishing
regulations.
Bag and length limits fail with reef fish such as grouper and snapper for
a simple reason — swim bladder decompression. Pull an undersized red
snapper out of 150 feet of water and it’s crippled by its bloated swim
bladder. Even properly venting the fish before release does little to keep
it from getting picked off by porpoises.
Maybe the key to rebuilding the red snapper fishery and others is outlawing
bottom fishing in water deeper, than, say 100 feet, but allowing anglers to
keep four of a species caught shallower regardless of size. Maybe it’s
a slot limit, which would ensure that larger red snapper — the ones
that produce the most eggs and milt — live another day to breed. Maybe
it’s quadrupling fines for fishing violations.
Regardless, current management techniques have failed. It’s time to
think about other ways of allowing today’s for-hire and private boats
to continue running, while also maintaining fisheries for future generations.
Mladen Rudman can be reached at 863-1111, Ext. 443, or e-mail
KENAI - Some anglers are lucky. Then there's the Carey family.
While fishing for halibut off Anchor Point last week, Ron Carey's sister, Bonnie White of Georgetown, Texas, hooked and landed a 300-pound halibut aboard Carey's 21-foot Silver Streak fishing boat. The catch brought to an end one of the most bizarre and lucky fishing stories to hit the Kenai Peninsula in a long time.
It started in June, when Carey, of Anchorage, was fishing with his wife, Nancy. A big halibut hit Nancy's line hard. Hard enough that it took all the tackle - rod, reel, hook, line and sinker - over the side of the boat.
Carey marked the spot with his on-board global positioning system.
A month later, on July 14, Carey was fishing in the same spot when an 85-year-old fishing buddy named "Old Charlie" managed to hook into the lost green halibut rod and bring it to the surface.
Carey sought repairs for the rod and reel that had spent a month on the ocean floor.
With the pole back in his hands, Carey returned to the waters of Cook Inlet earlier this week with Nancy, Bonnie White, and her husband, Richard, aboard. White used the green pole.
Not long after the four started fishing, she got a tug at the end of her line - a big one. A prolonged struggle with the enormous fish ensued.
Bonnie White pulled in the halibut, estimated at 330 pounds, based on its 84-inch length.
That the monster fish was caught on the same outfit Carey lost shouldn't have come as a surprise. After all, he said, the man who worked on the reel told him in July that Ron possessed a special piece of fishing gear.
"He said it was a blessed rod," Carey said.