An Industry in Drydock

Hunter-gatherers fished along Florida's coast more than 15,000 years ago. Historians say that when Jesus challenged his disciples-to-be to become fishers of men, he was changing their occupations as netters of mullet. When Europeans first came to St. Augustine from Minorca, they weren't trolling for condo buyers. They were gathering fish to salt pack into barrels and ship off to market.

Since the turn of the current century, commercial fishermen have landed more than 150 million pounds of fish each year, with 20 million of those pounds made up of mullet caught in mesh nets that trap the fish by their gills. Other species include shrimp, crabs, mackerel and other varieties of seafood.

In 1994, the people of Florida put a halt to the mullet portion of the catch with no less than a constitutional amendment. For thousands of fishing families, it brought to an end a generations-old way of life, and sent more than a few daddies to the welfare lines.

The net ban was passed by a nexus of public relations, conservation consciousness and political naivete. It is a chilling example of competition-by-ballot that could happen to any business that fails to heed the threat of a well-funded, politically savvy challenger.

The Cast

In a sense, there are two fishing industries in Florida: the commercial one, which catches large quantities of fish for processing and sale to restaurants and other resellers; and the second one, charter fishing, which transports guided amateurs to hot spots where they catch -- and often release -- fish just for the pure fun of it. It is the commercial industry that has been affected by the net ban.

Bob Jones is the Executive Director of Southeastern Fisheries Association, a not-for-profit trade group representing the interests of commercial fishers. "The net ban came about because the coastal conservation associations decided all of commercial net fishing had to disappear in the Gulf of Mexico," he says. "It happened under the guise of conservation, but it actually revolves around who gets the fish."

Gill netters represented about 20 percent of the entire commercial fishing industry in Florida when the net ban went into effect.

Paul Harvey, a practicing conservationist and the owner of a large charter fishing business called Fishfinder, with two marinas and numerous charter fishing boats, does not presume to represent anyone other than himself. However, his observations are those most often repeated by net ban proponents, that the net ban was necessary to slow down the rate of fish being caught Florida waters. "Gill net? Wiping out the catch," he says. "They take the bait and everything. Not enough left to reproduce."

He softens his blow. "A lot of them [gill netters] would have gone for restrictions, but some outlaws wanted to take until there was no more to take."

Jones counters that there is little logic in the concept that gill netters were sterilizing the fisheries, citing the gill net mesh size of 3.5 inches -- a fish that size has spawned its millions of eggs at least once, and that smaller bait fish can easily escape. Moreover, according to scientific reports prepared by Marine Fisheries Commission in 1992, Florida gill netters were responsible for fewer than six turtle deaths per year, one manatee every other year, and less than one-tenth of the porpoise deaths.

But these scientific studies were lost in the face of fashionable conservation, he believes. "You have someone come along and say 'let's ban nets, let's save the world,'" Jones says as he shakes his head. "They really couldn't comprehend what they were doing."

Additionally, he believes the political and social naivete of commercial fishers inhibited their influence through traditional channels. "In the world of politics, a political activity can occur at any civic or country club," he says. "Do you think you would ever see a commercial fisherman at those functions? No."

What lobbying was done for the netters may have inadvertently cast the wrong image anyway, according to Harvey. "When they fought the net ban, one Korean owner put up $4 million," he says. "The fishermen aren't making that kind of money."

These and other efforts raised the specter of the world-wide, Greenpeace-publicized sea rape, where in the words of one net ban advocate, "One Japanese [fish processing ship] employees 1500 people, and never comes in -- a giant factory, processing millions of pounds of fish a day." No such ships have been reported in or even near the Gulf of Mexico.

Facts notwithstanding, according to Jones, it was in this context that commercial fishing was attacked, with gill netting being the first industry segment to go. "If you support stable fisheries -- and we do," says Jones, "the fight becomes who is going to get them.

"I think the people on the other side who were trying to get rid of fishermen finally hit on this: mullet can't be caught with a hook." That, coupled with their apparent naivete, made mullet fishers the easiest group to eliminate in order to restrict access to Florida's fish.

The Lure

If, in reality, commercial fishermen were not hurting what by all accounts seemed an already stable fishery, why would certain people want to eliminate them?

"Follow the dollar," Jones says. "The leaders are the ones who stand the most to gain financially." He lists a variety of media and outdoor writers, lead by Florida Sportsman Magazine. Jones says they are motivated by sales, and by circulation. Ads there are for outboard motors, fishing tackle and other equipment that would not be bought frequently by commercial fishermen, but by recreational fishermen.

"The bottom line for Florida Sportsman Magazine is the more magazines you sell, the more money you make: more market share, more growth," he contends.

"Our sales were already fine," rebuts Karl Wickstrom, founder and publisher of the 30-year-old Florida Sportsman Magazine. "We've been having record years anyway."

Wickstrom also founded the Save Our Sealife organization that caused the petition movement and subsequent net ban amendment. "It (the net ban) helps everybody," he says. "Everybody gets an exactly equal access to the resource. We all have the same limits, and that's for the best."

Jones has a different view of the movement's motivation. "The only way to have more pompano to catch is to get rid of the people who are harvesting pompano, and remove them," he says the magazines argued. "The [recreational] fishing then may be better; the catch, quicker."

Wickstrom agrees, "The way to catch more pompano is to have more pompano in the water, to increase the standing population." But he explains that pompano is one species that jumps when following a net and makes it easy for netters to see. "The ill netters would take a net and circle the entire school."

Since the amendment, Wickstrom sees a pompano rebound, "They've made an absolutel