Whether fueled by fear of impending right whale protections or concerns over reports of dwindling numbers of young lobsters, the industry churn that once sent fishermen racing offshore has begun to slow and even reverse. (Photo courtesy of Nick Perreault)
Wait times for a lobster fishing license, especially for those not born into a family of fishermen, used to exceed a decade in some parts of Maine, but the queues are getting shorter as fewer young people enter the fishery.
Lobster boat captains often struggle to find enough sternmen to help, and used lobster boats are taking longer to sell than they used to.
The threat of climate change and more restrictive right whale protections – as well as several years of more modest landing totals – have some in the lobster industry second-guessing their future in the business, yielding subtle, but real, changes in the makeup of the fishery.
“There are fewer variable professional fishermen than there were 20 years ago, but there are more fishermen fishing full-time, offshore,” said Theresa Burnham, a postdoctoral research associate with the University of Maine. “Licenses overall are decreasing over time, as well. So the question is: Who is remaining?”
Burnham is one of a handful of researchers looking at social indicators related to the lobster fishing industry for clues as to how the fishery is changing and what those changes might mean for the broader economy.
Both those who study lobster fishing and those who do the fishing (and a few who do both) are quite certain the industry is evolving. Far fewer, however, are confident about what exactly it will look like in five or ten years.
In conversations with fishermen, a sense of uncertainty permeates.
“It’s such an unstable way of life and it’s not getting any better,” said Nick Perreault, a fifth generation fisherman who captains a lobster boat out of Jonesport.
Given the choice, most people prefer stability, but for investors and business leaders, predictability is especially vital. The same goes for lobster fishermen, who are both the leaders of and investors in their own small businesses.
The ocean is full of surprises, but for nearly 50 years, lobstermen have mostly gotten their wish.
Fishermen have faced periodic changes in regulations, modest price fluctuations, and of course, the threat of bad weather, but as far as making a living on the water goes, Maine’s lobster industry has been a rather reliable place to conduct business. Thanks to a combination of environmental factors, including the prevalence of deep, cold (but not too cold) water in the Gulf of Maine, as well as forward-thinking size limits and a tightly controlled supply of commercial fishing licenses, Maine’s lobster stock has remained bountiful.
The reliability and profitability of the industry has resulted in a workforce largely defined by generational continuity: fishermen begetting fishermen.
For many in Maine’s lobster industry, life on the water, hauling traps and banding claws, was a given. They watched their grandfathers, fathers, mothers, uncles, sisters and brothers up before dawn, thermos in hand, headed to the docks in orange and yellow bibs. It helps that a state fishing license can be passed from parent to child, and that the state’s licensing system privileges those who get into the fishery sooner rather than later.
“It used to be that pretty much everyone from here went fishing,” Perreault said. “Now you see a lot more people go to college.”
Perreault said that even those who want to stay put or get into the fishery are increasingly devising backup plans.
“You have people going to Maine Maritime Academy and getting an engineering degree,” he said. “I even know one fisherman who has a doctorate.”
Perreault himself, who also holds fishing licenses for scallops and elvers, is in the process of getting off the water and moving to the retail side of the industry. He expects that being the one buying lobsters off the docks – as opposed to selling lobster freshly pulled from traps – will offer a more stable and lucrative career, as well as the flexibility to base his operations somewhere with a few more people and amenities. As of the 2020 Census, Jonesport had a population of just 1,264.
Boat market and financing dry up
Though Perreault never felt the pull to fish in deeper waters, he has witnessed its effect on his peers.
“There was a period of time when everyone was rushing to get off shore,” he said. “That was to be the pinnacle of your career.”
That trend is reflected in the licensing data Burnham and her colleagues have been collecting and analyzing. Different license classes dictate what lobster fishermen can and can’t do. Fishermen with an LC2, or Class II license, can carry one crew, while an LC3 holder can carry two sternmen.
“Over the last 20 years, we found the number of LC2 holders, which are kind of like mid-range efforts, professional fishermen with just one crew, is going down,” Burnham said. “On the other hand, the LC3s, or Class III, have gone up 50%.”
With more sternmen, or deckhands, to help, LC3 holders can venture farther from shore, where they can harvest lobsters found in deeper water. Many lobsters migrate out into the Gulf of Maine during the winter months, where the water is actually warmer, but scientists think some lobsters remain in deeper water year round. Offshore lobster fishermen sometimes set traps in water as deep as 600 feet.
The length of the commute from dock to traps isn’t the only thing that changes when fishermen graduate to offshore lobstering. The change typically necessitates the purchasing of a new, more expensive boat, as well as additional gear.
“These are people that are relatively young and making a huge investment in the fishery,” Burnham said.
Twenty years ago, most lobster fishermen relied on modest boats, between 25 and 35 feet in length.
“Today, the typical lobster boat is more like 46 feet,” said Peter Krass, owner of a boat building shop in South Bristol. “The boats also got four feet wider and two feet deeper, and they got much bigger engines. All in, you’re pushing a million dollars.”
Around 2000, a new seaworthy downeast boat might fetch $25,000 to $50,0000.
“My boat is only 26 feet, I paid $60,000,” Perreault said.
At the time, Perreault said he had to pay more than the boat was appraised for because the market for boats was running hot. Even as fishermen rushed to get offshore, the ever-increasing landing totals that characterized the fishery in the early-to-mid aughts, as well as the generational nature of the labor force, ensured there were always new inshore fishermen eager to take the place of those headed for deeper waters.
According to Perreault, finances rarely proved an impediment to fishermen looking to go offshore.
“All you had to show really was that you work hard and are doing well,” he said. “It was super easy to take out huge bank loans.”
Perreault saw friends and peers regularly buy $500,000 to $700,000 boats. And though this may have been the norm several years ago, Perreault and others said that’s no longer the case.
“The lobster boat market right now is quite dead, there’s been the fear of regulations for quite a while and landings have been down,” said Krass. “I think there are very few lobster boats being built right now. Whereas five years ago, you couldn’t buy one without waiting two or three years.”
Krass said he and other lobster boat builders have been busy building tuna boats for recreational fishermen.
Whether fueled by fear of impending right whale protections or concerns over reports of dwindling numbers of young lobsters, the industry churn that once sent fishermen racing offshore replaced by eager sternmen, often the offspring of fishermen themselves, has begun to slow and even reverse.
“It’s kind of coming back the other way now,” Perreault said. “I’m seeing some guys starting to leave offshore and coming back inshore.”
“I’m seeing some guys in the 40s and 50s that don’t want to do the offshore thing anymore. You see more fishermen now trying to be on the wholesale or retail side, like me, because it’s a good hedge, you can get more money for your product.”
Others may have to supplement lobster fishing with kelp farming or other forms of aquaculture. Few in the industry think lobster fishing is on the way out, but the period of uncertainty, like a slack tide preparing to recede, may reveal new patterns within the industry.
“I think it will work out for the people who really want to be in the fishery,” Perreault said. “It will remove people who aren’t fully committed to being in the fishery. The die hard fishermen will figure out a way to make it work.”
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