STEALING THE SILVER?The lack of joined-up thinking among countries’ fishing quotas is affecting mackerel stocks.
Faraway nets leave home hooks empty
Country Sights and Sounds
John Shelley
We went to the sea in search of mackerel, those dashing, striped and sleek torpedoes of fish that ought to be inshore in swarms but are not. We fished for a while until we tired of catching nothing. The tide peaked shortly before dusk and as the waves eased over high water a small number of sea trout came leaping and splashing along a line of rocks that deflect the outflow of a sweet-water stream. When we cast to these, small pollock hung themselves on our hooks. No mackerel.
A grey-bearded boatman wagged his head in sage-like manner. ‘Ye’ve heared it on the news - they have all yer mackerel caught out foreign. There’s some out in the deep, bit they’re just bitty wee things that slipped through the net.’ I thought he sounded gleeful.
There is truth in what he said. As far away as Iceland, commercial fishermen are enjoying a bumper harvest that has provided many seasonal jobs for a community still struggling to recover from financial woe. Nothing wrong with that, is there? Well no, except that the fish they catch there obviously never get to swim about here, where we can catch them. And it isn’t the hundreds or even thousands of tonnes taken by Icelandic trawlers that we are looking for, but a mere few for the barbecue and a dozen to go into the smoker. (In 2011 Iceland landed an estimated 146 thousand tonnes – some say 170 thousand – of these fish in comparison to its previous average annual catch of two thousand tonnes.)
There are politics involved. The EU sets quotas for member states, so that resources are shared as equally as pigs on Animal Farm (All pigs are equal; some are more equal than others). So here in Ireland we are entitled to catch X number of mackerel, which actually happens to be more than enough to go around. The real problem is this: When other countries set their own catch limits, as Iceland and the Faroe Islands have, that X number of mackerel are caught long before they get to meet up with my hook-wielding friends and myself.
The humble mackerel is a treat for us, but for many other creatures it is a staple. Take the gannet as an example. While this spectacular bird is capable of taking a wide variety of fish species, the seasonal arrival of dense mackerel shoals provides it with an abundance of rich and oily fish flesh - just the thing for getting those youngsters raised fine and healthy before the onset of another wet and windy Atlantic winter. Mayo has one colony of gannets, if a grand total of three nesting pairs can right be titled as such. Each pair will raise only one chick in a year; gannet pressure on mackerel stocks in Clew Bay is minimal.
But go down to the Skelligs, off the coast of Kerry, where the world’s second largest gannet colony boasts 27 thousand pairs. Between them, these birds are capable of consuming a lot of fish over the course of a year and if those fish aren’t there then it will not be long before the birds aren’t there either.
The Icelanders are not the only ones scooping boatloads of mackerel from the seas. It is strange to think that only a few years ago few people bothered with them, even here. Ubiquitous in summer and cheap to buy, they were held in disdain. Then came the Healthy Eating Brigade, flying the flag of Omega 3 and Fish Oils. Mackerel were in demand once more and quotas went up even faster than fish-counter prices.
The Faroe Island mackerel fleet increased its own annual quota from 25 thousand tonnes to 150 thousand. Even closer to home, the United Kingdom has an allowable mackerel catch of 188 thousand tonnes and Ireland some 70 thousand tonnes, these being allocated by the EU. The total combined annual catch of all countries is now estimated to exceed the sustainable limit by 30 percent, which goes some way toward explaining why, even in this traditionally fish-rich month of August, my friends and myself still struggle to catch enough for a simple meal.
It could be, and we hope it is, that by the time this gets into print we will have what is left of the mackerel migration feeding in harbours and rocky coves. If so, I shall be down there too.
Oh yes, the sea trout. How good it is to see them about in reasonable numbers after they so nearly disappeared altogether. Another year, or maybe two, and we can add them to the menu once more.
