Reflecting on a Decade of the Monterey Bay Fisheries Trust
By Mark C Anderson, September 10, 2024
Bert Cutino was on his knees scrubbing the deck of his dad’s fishing boat on a Saturday morning when John Steinbeck stepped aboard.
Cutino, 13 at the time, didn’t recognize the guy, but the stranger stuck out as a non-Italian, non-Portuguese, non-Spaniard dock presence.
“This is embedded in my brain,” says Cutino, now 85.
The year was 1954, long before Cutino helped launch The Sardine Factory restaurant, before he helped develop a real estate dynasty among the graveyard of Cannery Row processing plants, before he cooked Monterey Bay abalone bisque at the White House, and before over and fishing became a compound word.
The scruffy man asked Cutino a question, “Is this what you want to do…to be happy with your life?”
As the stranger dipped into the Santa Rosalia’s galley to talk to Cutino’s dad, Paul, the younger Cutino remembers thinking, Of course not. I’d rather be fishing. This is going to be my boat someday.
Cutino registered two things his dad told him soon after.
The first came when Cutino junior asked him who the man was.
“Oh, some writer who’ll amount to nothing.”
The other thought was more measured, arriving as they watched sardines move in such torrents the surface shimmered, then felt their stomachs twist as they saw how little the canneries paid fishermen, and how much fish they threw away because fishermen brought in more than they chose to process.
“All this fish we get today…” Paul said, “in your lifetime, if you live long enough, this fish will disappear.”
So Pops was right on one prediction. Sardine populations collapsed not long after that conversation. Paul Cutino would never see sardines flourish again.
Recalling that triggers another lasting memory for Bert: “My dad—and all the fishermen—were all so happy when they were fishing.”
Cutino’s voice trails off. The moment hangs there, waiting patiently.
•••
Flash forward a half century, when a different crash precipitated a pioneering partnership that helped restore a functional fishery.
As one of the Trust’s volunteer advisors, Jana Hennig, puts it in a NOAA Fisheries podcast “From Collapse to Sustainability: West Coast Groundfish Are Back,” “It’s been an incredible tale of resilience ecologically, but not economically.”
In other words, the fish came back faster than expected, but full marketplace recovery remains unrealized.
In 1999, after years of increasing fishing pressure, ineffective management, declining catches and loss of income, the West Coast groundfish fishery was in a precarious situation.
Around that time, the federal government declared the fishery an economic disaster—aka fishery failure—resulting in a series of stringent fishing limits and large closures that were the first steps in empowering recovery.
These measures hit an already struggling fishery up and down the coast hard. Very hard.
Four locals—a fisherman, a marine biologist, a harbormaster, and a conservationist—all watched from their respective perspectives.
David Crabbe was already two decades into his fishing career. Though he didn’t start at 8 years old like Paul, he was a full-time deckhand for whole summers before he could vote. He would go on to become a squid boat captain and direct a small fleet.
Around 2000, as the groundfish fishery was closed, Crabbe was saddened to see fishery regulations force fishermen to discard quality fish they caught above trip limits—way too much good, fresh, market-ready rockfish, he reasoned, was being wasted.
“Trawlers were shoveling thousands of pounds of beautiful chilipepper rockfish overboard,” he says. “Management was causing waste.”
He started noticing his friends in that fishery taking more risks with under-maintained boats to make ends meet, while watching rockfish from Canada fill California fish markets and diminish prices paid to fishermen locally—all while harvest control rules increased.
Crabbe wanted fishermen to have a say in improving the regulations on the water—and would go on to serve on a range of management bodies including the Pacific Fisheries Management Council and the Advisory Council for the Monterey Bay National Marine Sanctuary.
Margaret Spring, meanwhile, was monitoring other trends in Washington, D.C. where she was legal counsel to the Senate committee updating the federal fishery law that was completed in 2006.
She was aware that fishery managers were moving toward an individual fishing quota (IFQ), or “catch shares” plan, to help increase both sustainability and profitability—but also that IFQs might also change the dynamics of the fishery and the communities they shared.
As a result, the law encouraged community-based arrangements modeled in Alaska. The West Coast was in the process of designing their own groundfish IFQ program, and community concerns were on the table.
In 2007, she moved to the Nature Conservancy (TNC) California Chapter just after they executed a deal like no other before it, namely the purchase of 13 groundfish trawlers and permits as part of a collaboration with fishermen in California to protect offshore habitat and support sustainable fishing.
A few years later, in 2011, the Pacific Fishery Management Council implemented the West Coast catch share program, which would transform these “permits” into individually allocated “quota shares.”
Although there was a 3-year moratorium on any quota share sales, and rules to prevent it, there was a real concern that those fishing rights held by individuals across California’s coastal communities might get bought up by bigger—and wealthier—corporations out of state.
In the 2010s, groundfish began to rebound, two full decades before expected. This good news arrived while the IFQ program was being implemented (and just as Spring joined the Monterey Bay Aquarium).
“Small communities ran the risk of inadvertently and unknowingly losing access to a resource making a stellar comeback,” she says. “That was the urgency.”
Steve Scheiblauer shared that fear. As harbor master for both Santa Cruz and Monterey he came to know fishermen—“and their wives, kids and dogs, it became personal and multigenerational,” he adds—he started talking with the City of Monterey about what could be done to keep fishing rights local to support the eventual recovery of the trawl fishery.
“Steve and I and a few others understood the need to anchor the fishing quota that had historically been in this area to this area,” Spring says. “It was wonky but it was happening all over: fishing quota leaving ports and moving to states with more infrastructure.”
In 2013, the City of Monterey approved a Fishing Community Sustainability Plan, and a route to funding—with an assist from TNC, Monterey Bay Aquarium and the city—was suddenly within reach. That plan recommended a series of actions to strengthen infrastructure and relationships, including establishing a community fishing quota fund.
That meant forming a coalition between two forces historically at odds, namely the fishing industry and the conservation community.
The fourth founding board member, CSU Monterey Bay Environmental Science lecturer
Monica Galligan, remembers challenges in meetings, along with an abiding loyalty to the greater good for the working waterfront community.
“We each had and have different experiences and viewpoints, but shared a common goal,” she says. “Which is a sustainable fishery and supporting the fishermen and seafood businesses that make up our local seafood economy. We have big-time leaders on the board who could [flex] power, and they listen instead—weaving ideas together to forge a stronger cloth.”
A binding agent emerged: the best possible management to inform the smartest ways to fish, resulting in the recovery of our fisheries and the return of more local seafood to our harbors.
“There are a lot of natural alignments between environmental concerns and fishermen,” Scheiblauer says. “Fishermen need to have a sustainable resource. They don’t want to kill the last buffalo. They’ve supported science-based management, and [understand] why it needs to happen for the fishery.”
Spring emphasizes an elusive element between the Monterey Bay Aquarium where she now works and fishermen who felt unfairly demonized—which happens to be hiding right there in the name of the nonprofit.
“The name of the Trust is a reminder we had to build trust,” she says, “which is why we were slow and quiet in outreach to fishing interests, business, and various communities, to understand where everyone was—not as a big NGO telling you how we’ll solve the world’s problems, but trying to be supportive and understand what’s happening.”
By the way, that collaboration and others like it helped the West Coast groundfish fishery and beyond leap back to life while expanding both access and sustainability, as a July study published in Marine Policy illustrates.
The shared faith underlines the other element that’s tucked conveniently into the title too: Fisheries indicates something wider than fishermen.
While other small harbor-based associations in places like Santa Barbara and Morro Bay own and lease quota shares, MBFT is the only fund with additional programs providing business, technical and educational support. “Fishermen are too busy fishing to attend all the state, federal policy and city council meetings!” says founding executive director Sherry Flumerfelt, which is why the Trust evolved to offer more services than leasing quota.
“We like to lean in,” Spring says.
In other words, the Trust’s mission involves the consumer at the restaurant, the family at the food bank, the community-supported fishery network, the worker at the processing facility, the recreational fishers in the kayaks, the chefs in the kitchen, the many partner organizations in the community, and the identity of a singular place.
Melissa Mahoney—who arrived at the ground floor alongside the founding board members in her role as fisheries director for TNC, later as an advisor and board member, and now as its executive director—comes well-versed on the benefits of this small but impactful organization.
“In economic terms, it's a multiplier effect,” she says. “Every fish that’s landed here and consumed here supports multiple livelihoods. Beyond the dollars, more importantly, it’s about food security, retaining nutrition, meaning, and the culture and heritage that’s part of our DNA here in Monterey Bay. I don’t know if you can put a price on that.”
Galligan extends the net. “When we talk about building the resilience of the fishing community, it’s the fishermen’s families, the seafood workers who offload and process the fish, the chefs, the consumers, the markets,” she says. “We feel it benefits everybody if everyone’s invested. We want everybody to be all in.”
A quick montage of the Trust’s recent and ongoing works provides a representative sample of that reach.
To date, the Community Seafood Program has purchased over 21,000 pounds of local seafood, distributing over 57,000 nutritious meals to nourish locals through the Monterey County Food Bank, Second Harvest Food Bank, Big Sur Big Share, Pajaro Valley Loaves and Fishes, Al & Friends, and Meals on Wheels. Meanwhile, Galligan is studying other food pantry networks in the U.S. and Canada to see if they can replicate the growing success of this program. “Most are like, ‘That’s way beyond our scope,’” she says. “‘But if you figure this out, let us know.’”
The Buoy Bulletin—a monthly newsletter curated for industry with over 1,000 subscribers—alerts fishermen to important policy and regulatory changes coming and ways to engage in public meetings, one of which led to preserving vital black cod fishing grounds. And, more recently, spotlighted reopenings of Monterey Bay waters below Año Nuevo for quillback fishing that had been restricted.
Get Hooked! dinners continue to star local-sourcing area chefs—like those anchoring the 10th Anniversary Event—while raising thousands of dollars for the Community Seafood Program, and awareness for mindful seafood fans around what fishermen navigate to provide fresh fish.
The Trust provides scholarships for Monterey Bay fishermen to attend the Marine Resource Education Program, a weeklong workshop on fisheries science and management from the very folks whose job it is to manage the resource. The intention is to build understanding and confidence so local fishermen reps can engage and speak on behalf of our local fisheries.
The Fisherman’s Portal keeps centralizing real-world intel on disaster relief, quota leases, direct-to-consumer sales, how to sell at the local farmers market, ongoing policy education from state and federal management, upcoming policy meetings and all forms of business planning.
Annual meetings with lawmakers like U.S. Congressman Jimmy Panetta give the fishermen a direct channel to share challenges and find solutions in the face of salmon and crab season closures.
MBFT’s online Local Catch Guide, Monterey Bay fishermen profiles, and fishing method explainers round out part of a robust resource hub for consumers.
The monthly MBFT newsletter relays in-depth reports on all sorts of issues, including the shifting crab season, and the takeaways from the lost salmon seasons of 2024 and where policy changes can help.
Mahoney appeared on KQED and KSQD to talk about a wide range of fishery issues, including what happens when communities lose access to salmon, crab and rockfish and what consumers can do to show their support (hint: buy local!).
The newsletter also loads up readers on recipes from kitchen luminaries—including recent instructions on rockfish chowder and Spanish calamari tapas—helping inspire more interest and delight in local fish at home.
“It’s heartwarming to know that recipes are one of most popular things for readers,” Scheiblauer says. “They provide a tangible connection to the hard work that goes into proving fresh wild seafood that’s sustainable, healthy and has a low-carbon footprint—so people ask where their seafood is coming from, and aren’t on autopilot to get tilapia.”
•••
When the community comes together on Sept. 29 for Monterey Bay Fisheries Trust’s 10th Anniversary Seafood Celebration, it will feature fresh catch from family-owned Monterey Bay boats, prepped by standout chefs Diego Felix and Tim Eelman.
That will pair with wine and craft beer from several local partners like Equinox, Saison, Scheid and Folktale wineries, Alvarado Street Brewery and Other Brother Beer Co. The Glenn Bell Jazz group will play while guests mingle with new and old friends, and wander among food stations and an all-too-tempting silent auction spread.
Guest speakers like Margaret Spring and Jimmy Panetta will share the importance of our partnerships and impact thus far, and how with continued support, we can activate our 10-yr vision to ensure a thriving and sustainable seafood economy contributing to a resilient regional food system.
And while the anniversary unfolds against the glowing backdrop of Old Monterey’s Memory Garden—a central pocket of a historic California State Park that wouldn’t exist as it does without generations of fishing communities—it also happens in the context of ongoing fishery challenges.
Monterey Bay fishers have confronted delayed Dungeness crab seasons, multiple groundfish closures, multiple canceled salmon seasons with lagging emergency relief funds, and additional management issues that leave much to be desired.
They’re perpetually encountering additional obstacles like inferior dock services, unadventurous eaters, expensive fuel, cheap imports and aquaculture with questionable methods, and intensifying climate change that, in the words of UCLA climatologist Alex Hall, will collide with infrastructure “we have built…for a different world, and in some ways we weren’t even that well adapted to the world that we had.”
It’s enough to have many of them take on new careers, from farming to auto mechanic.
Mahoney observes opportunity in the adversity.
“Collaborative community visioning is powerful,” she says. “We need a new holistic view that encompasses today’s reality—climate change disruption, economic uncertainty and technology transformation—and we need to measure and assess what resources we can bring to bear, with ample data and a good plan. We can’t go backwards.”
To create that plan, Mahoney and her team have partnered with Regenerative California and other key groups on a two-year USDA Regional Food Systems planning grant, which if funded, would get underway in early 2025 to facilitate a vision for the future of fisheries and ocean-based food systems in Monterey Bay.
More on this in future stories.
•••
Paul Cutino fished from age 8 until his 80s, partly because he was too proud to take money from his sons, and partly because he loved it that much.
Bert didn’t know if his dad would ever retire, at least until one day he was driving near Cannery Row and saw a familiar gait moving along the sidewalk—only dressed differently than his dad would be. In a suit.
“Dad!? Why are you dressed up?” Bert blurted.
“I retired today. This is my retirement suit!” he replied.
“Well what did you do with the boat?” his son asked.
Turns out he sold it at a massive price break to some fresh-faced Sicilian Americans, expensive nets thrown in.
Bert was stunned, then paused.
He had learned a metric ton of life lessons directly from his pops while fishing, including the fact the resource—whether sardines or rockfish—can disappear if not harvested mindfully.
His dad wasn’t worried about making a bunch of money on the sale of his boat. He simply wanted people to keep fishing Monterey Bay.
Though generations apart, that passion persists in MBFT staff, board leadership, fishermen partners, advisors and collaborators.
A decade into the Trust’s odyssey, it’s a passion that’s catching on—with the knowledge that a rising tide lifts all boats.