Disaster can be…good.
Disaster can be…good.
Yes, that seems counterintuitive. But talk to insiders about the closure of 2023’s salmon season and that sentiment surfaces. The logic is this: There’s no illusion or confusion created that the salmon stock is hanging on by approving a partial season.
A total shutdown catches people’s attention and brings more resources to bear. Lawmakers and policy shapers have to take notice and pursue solutions. Think of it as repairing a fence. If the fence is in trouble at its foundation, patchwork here and there might keep it in place for a while.
But eventually it will collapse, and deeper fixes can and should take place.
•••
Tim Obert fishes salmon, crab and albacore out of Santa Cruz on two different boats, ranging as far north as Washington state.
He also serves as incoming president of the Santa Cruz Commercial Fishermen’s Association and sits on three other influential bodies: the Board for California Advisory Committee for Salmon, Trout and Steelhead, the California Salmon Council, and the Dungeness Crab Task Force for south of Half Moon Bay.
Between the tattoos and youthful energy—he is only 36, after all—he doesn’t look the bracket of a long time fisherman and fishery leader. That’s a big part of what makes his story so interesting.
Obert grew up fishing recreationally off Santa Cruz with his dad and got work tying mooching rigs at the old Bayside Marine tackle store as a 10 year old. By age 11 his twin brother and he were getting jobs cleaning boats across Santa Cruz Harbor. By 12 they earned duty as deck hands, helping run charter fishing trips for Park Place Excursions. At 13, Obert had his first crabbing gig.
“I’m a younger guy, but I’ve been a part of the fishing community for a very long time,” he says. “It’s been 22 years solid, so I’ve seen the struggle, I’ve seen disasters.”
Two other elements bring Obert to this point in his fishing life and leadership arc:
1) Salmon is his thing—has been since he was a kid winning youth tournaments. “It’s my passion,” he says.
2) The rules that govern its harvesting are complicated. “Even when you’re closely involved with it,” he says, “it makes no sense.”
He remembers his reaction when he found out how fishery administration works. “When I learned about management I freaked out,” he says. “But I also observed commercial [fishery] reps in the council process making big decisions.”
The next move came easy: “I wanted to help manage my own season. To have good input. To learn lessons and talk to the right tables of people. I didn’t want biased people speaking on my behalf.” So he got to work. He listened closely to George Bradshaw and John Koeppen, both members of the Salmon Advisory Subpanel (SAS) representing California trollers.
He attended The Marine Resource Education Program—designed to help fishermen decode the policy-making machinery—then “went to all meetings, met all the people I could.”
Along the way he noticed something: His new collaborators were aware how successful he’d been over years fishing salmon—and knew that would come in handy. “When modeling a season, you want someone’s input that’s good,” he says. “They listened to my input!”
•••
Flash forward to 2023 and the March and April meetings The Pacific Fishery Management Council, which establishes management measures for commercial, tribal, and recreational salmon fisheries off the coasts of Washington, Oregon and California.
In his capacity as the commercial fishermen rep for the Monterey Bay-leaning side of the greater San Francisco Bay Area, Obert receives thoughts from the fleet to select the dates California fishermen can legally fish for salmon. The Council’s science and advisory bodies look closely at forecasts of fish populations provided by the California Department of Fish & Wildlife, other state agencies, and NOAA Fisheries.
Fishermen like Obert compare that data with their own historic experience and combine that with the input of other regional fisherfolk's insight. The goal is to figure out how many days of fishing would give both the salmon and fishermen the chance to thrive.
The answer this year: zero.
Other voices on the Council advocated opening a small window to fish.
Not Obert.
“Some wanted us to model season out for a couple days of fishing,” he says. “The amount of fish we’d be allowed to take would be gone in a couple of days. The money it costs to rig a boat isn’t worth that.” Besides, a full shutdown would shift the spotlight firmly on how our rivers and water are being managed and begin the dialogue to protect and heal salmon populations in the Sacramento and Klamath watersheds, the two most important runs left of commercially viable salmon. “When you declare disaster, all the big name players come in,” Obert says. “We have to fix some things.” That translates to fishing seasons, but also hatchery strategy, adapting to environmental shifts, and water management, from farms to rivers to dams to deltas.
Switching Gears…
Tuk Su Yi fishes salmon, halibut, rock cod, sea bass, albacore and bonito out of Moss Landing, traversing waters from San Diego to Fort Bragg. The first positive he sees is some real time to gather better information about all those factors, plus fish populations that could make a comeback.
“It’s an opportunity to figure out what’s really going on, to get more data, to get a hold of better management for each feature of the fishery,” he says. “And if this year’s closure does increase the return, everyone comes out positive.”
The closure also opens the possibility of disaster relief. U.S. Senator Alex Padilla and Representative Jared Huffman have asked for precisely that type of support. They’re lead authors of a letter to President Joe Biden and Secretary of Commerce Gina Raimondo asking them to declare a federal fishery disaster for the 2023 salmon season, as has California Governor Gavin Newsom. That would in turn unlock monies from Fiscal Year 2023 Omnibus Appropriations for affected California communities.
“The closure of this vital fishery will have far-reaching consequences for commercial, recreational, and charter fishers, tribes, businesses, restaurants, and families who depend upon a healthy salmon fishery for subsistence,” Padilla and Huffman write in the letter, which was also signed by 18 other California legislators including local Congresspeople Jimmy Panetta and Zoe Lofgren.
“It remains unclear how long the salmon fishery will need to be closed, and we know there is much work ahead of us,” it continues. “The long-term solutions will include improving our drought resiliency, restoring salmon habitat, and of course, addressing the climate crisis.” Relief for communities hit hardest by the crisis, the letter adds, can’t wait.
Obert is optimistic to see the governmental engagement, believing any lasting advance has to be led by Congress.
In the meantime, here appear a half dozen strategies to help local fish and local fisherman navigate disaster:
1. See/understand the big picture.
Salmon depend on a healthy river and ocean ecosystem salmon - management of their habitat and water rights is complex. Fishermen play a role, but there’s a lot more going on with salmon and water than they have control over.
Upstream, anglers Obert talks to are reeling in fish suffering from viruses. Warming rivers don’t provide welcoming spawning grounds. Hatcheries are in disrepair, and beyond their ability to support production, they may be preventing the longer term survival of wild salmon.
“The public doesn’t know how the fishery got messed up,” Obert says. “They just hear, ‘over harvested.’ Really that’s a copout. It’s a lot more complicated than that.”
2. Support restoration.
Golden Gate Salmon Association ranks among those putting forth petitions designed to encompass the big picture solutions to our salmon crises, often focused on hydrology, habitat mitigation and policy work to find a balanced flow between farms and fish.
Obert also highlights the work of Monterey Bay Salmon and Trout Project—where he helps in an advisory capacity —and its efforts to ramp up conservation, education and salmon releases. “That’s a local project giving back to salmon, fishermen and the fleet,” he says.
3. Diversify your appetite.
Salmon is delicious. But they aren’t the only fish in the sea—or in Monterey Bay. Consider this a chance to declare interdependence on other tasty local catch.
“There are so many other tasty fish out there—take sand dabs, one that’s never under the spotlight but is a favorite of those who know seafood,” Yi says. “Basically any and all fish offered by local fishermen—ask for local—and the advantage is the freshness: how it’s processed, caught and cared for.”
Those looking for, say, some pro halibut and sand dab tips, can find some on MBFT’s website with the help of Chef Colin Moody. “Local fishermen do have the chance to fish other species and be resourceful and get through it,” Obert adds.
4. Shop the dock.
Meanwhile, supporting local dock sales and devoutly Monterey Bay-based fish markets like H&H Fresh Fish in the Santa Cruz Harbor or Sea Harvest and Woodward Marine restaurant in Moss Landing to name a few. “If you want the best quality fish that’s local,” Obert says, “that’s the way to do it.”
5. Don’t fall for it.
This might be the easy instruction of this group: Anyone advertising local salmon will be lying. No such thing this year around. Stick with other tasty species like rockfish, found in some of the best fish taco shops in the Monterey Bay Area. (Note: #3 Pescadero has since closed.)
6. Work together.
Historically the California Department of Fish and Wildlife (CDFW) and fishermen have enjoyed a tense relationship. A final positive of disaster: It inspires cooperation in the face of a common challenge.
“Please show them support,” Obert says. “We may disagree on management, but they’re not bad people in any way. We need their help—all of our collective efforts—to make it the year of change.”