The damage has been done over a relatively short time, stemming no doubt from the perception that fish and shellfish were so abundant that they could sustain unlimited exploitation. Whatever today's children might believe, there are no grounds at all for their parents and grandparents to continue subscribing to that theory.
It's only a couple of generations ago that 90 Mile Beach yielded all the snapper and trevally that anyone could have wished for. Fishermen didn't even have to get wet - the writer recalls watching surfcasters wearing short gumboots; if wetsuits had been invented they weren't worn.
It's only a couple of generations since Waipapakauri was home to a toheroa canning factory, and the shellfish were harvested by the tonne. Now, when toheroa make a fleeting appearance, they are little bigger than tuatua, and illegal recreational taking soon wipes them out.
A couple of generations ago Ahipara supported a substantial commercial crayfishing industry. It only lasted a couple of seasons, but before it was over the crayfishers were selling sugar bags of undersized specimens to anyone who had a few dollars in their pocket.
Around 30 years ago the writer spent an afternoon flying over Great Exhibition Bay aboard a fishing company's spotter plane. The pilot recorded the positions of numerous huge schools of trevally, easily seen from a distance as a brown stain on the water. The fish in the centre of the schools were breaking the surface, while others shelved down around them. The pilot gave the schools' positions to the boats, and by the end of the day tonnes of trevally had been taken. They were turned into bait for fishermen who were then significantly less likely to catch a trevally.
Far Northerners might once have been excused for thinking the fish and shellfish that were so bountiful would never run out, but we cannot conceivably believe that now. And we can't even blame population growth for what we've done. Certainly more people live and fish in the Far North than was the case 50 years ago, and fishing techniques have become ever more sophisticated, but the damage we have done has more to do with ignorance and greed than it does with need.
Remember the furore generated by the reduction of the daily snapper limit bag in Snapper 1? Seven snapper per person is a pretty good feed, and the minimum specimen size is still a very small fish, but some fishers were outraged. It would not be surprising if the same reaction was seen in the Bay of Islands now that Fish Forever has unveiled its proposal. One charter operator has already rejected the proposal, seemingly on the basis that, contrary to what Fish Forever and others claim, burgeoning fish populations do not spill out of reserves and so become fair game.
One suspects he is wrong. It makes sense that if a snapper population, for example, explodes within the confines of a reserve, some of those fish will, in time, move outside the boundaries. But even if they don't, that is no argument against the establishment of reserves.
The reality is that if nothing is done - and according to Fish Forever that's not an option - there will soon be no fish to catch. The damage that has been done to the marine environment, damage that seems to be undisputed, will not repair itself with smaller daily bag limits and increased minimum sizes. The case made by Fish Forever is compelling - much of the marine environment within the Bay of Islands has lost its ability to replace the fish that are being taken. If someone can explain the logic of doing nothing until there is no point doing anything they are welcome to do so.
And this is not just a Bay of Islands issue. Hopefully keen interest will be taken by those who have talked, but seemingly made little progress, about protecting parts of Doubtless Bay. Those who recognise the importance of the Far North's harbours as fish breeding grounds should also be watching; even those who believe commercial fishing is still permitted too close to the shore on the west coast, particularly 90 Mile Beach, although the environment there might have been damaged beyond repair.
Given that when pair trawling began there the boats would be followed a couple of tides later by huge drifts of seaweed washing on to the beach, to the point where driving sometimes became impossible, it might well be that the marine environment beyond the breakers has become a desert, and will remain one. It's hardly surprising that surfcasting on 90 Mile Beach is not as rewarding as it once was, and all for cheap fish and chips, a reliable supply of bait at the local gas station and some overseas earnings.
Anyone who does not believe that Far North fish are a finite resource is deluding themselves, and while the bounty once provided by the sea will never be seen again, if something isn't done now there will soon be no bounty at all. All power to Fish Forever then. May it succeed in persuading others that time is of the essence, and may others take up the cause it has launched.
