We need to ban whitebaiting for two years
Last weekend I was lucky enough to go whitebaiting in South Canterbury. While not quite up to the standards of the West Coast, South Canterbury has historically had some of the best whitebaiting in the country; with fisheries like the Opihi, Waitaki and Rangitata delivering solid catches over the years.
My grandfather had a bach (or crib) at the Milford Huts, near the Opihi River mouth and used to tell seemingly impossible tales of the catches 70 years ago.
Back then the standard measure for whitebait catches was the kerosene tin. These jerrycan looking receptacles would hold two gallons of bait which equates to almost 10 kilograms.
Today 10kg of whitebait would cost you about $1400 on www.gourmetseafood.co.nz, that’s if they have that much in stock.
Back when my grandfather fished it was so plentiful that people used it for garden fertiliser.
Last weekend we didn’t catch anywhere that amount. But myself and my charming colleague managed to get enough for a feed for the two of us and better yet enjoyed the zen experience of netting the incoming tide as the sun went down behind the snow capped Southern Alps. Magic really.
So magic that I decided to post a picture on Facebook. Then the magic stopped because my old friend and former punk rocker Tim Costelloe posted a response noting we were killing four species of endangered native fish.
Tim has been a professional fisheries management professional for the past 20 years and knows his beans and his fish.
And until then it had just been an inconvenient truth I’d managed to ignore.
At least I’m in good company. A lot of people I know are happy to do the same – and will be a bit annoyed by this column.
In early 2018 the Department of Conservation kicked off a wide-ranging study into the physically transparent but ecologically foggy fish. Four months ago they launched the result: ‘‘New Zealanders’ views on whitebait management’’. It paints a sobering picture.
It’s not a case of declining numbers. Four of the six species of native fish that make up the fishery are threatened or at risk of extinction – these being giant ko¯ kopu, shortjaw ko¯ kopu, inanga and ko¯ aro.
A range of contributors were found including habitat degradation, poor spawning sites, bad water quality and heavy fishing pressure in some areas.
In addition it became clear that the agencies responsible for overseeing this diminutive fishery had no clear management goal or strategy around working together.
There’s also a remarkable absence of rules compared to trout and salmon fishing. You don’t need a licence, you can take as much as you like, it costs you nothing and there are no limits on selling it commercially.
Many white-baiters I know flick a few pound to restaurants or on Facebook. Dollars to donuts it doesn’t meet Ministry for Primary Industries’ (MPI) requirements for a food control plan nor the Food Act.
Try doing that with a smoked rainbow trout and you’d be in three kinds of hell.
The report had serious catchment. Submissions were received from more than 3000 people and over 2800 participated in an online survey.
Disappointingly though, the report had no recommendations for change and appears to have been the stimulus for even more consultation.
Meantime, while all this consultation is going on, the whitebait population will continue to decline, despite the apparently broad agreement for change.
In this context I’m keen to promote a course of action that’s going to make all my whitebaiting mates want to slash my tyres.
I reckon we need to do to whitebait, what we did to blue cod in the Marlborough Sounds. Have a flat-out break from it.
The season stops on November 30. If you put in a national ban on whitebaiting from then until August 15, 2021, the species would have almost two years to recover and build up numbers.
Just as importantly, it would allow DOC, Fish & Game and MPI to come up with a co-ordinated approach to managing the fishery. Most importantly, it would let marine biologists measure the impact of non fishing in different waterways on population size and persistency.
The charm and curse of whitebaiting is that it’s deeply submerged in folklore, bias and good years. Yarns like the one about my grandfather.
What we need to work out is a sustainable way ahead, with one version of the truth that’s free from bias.
So long as the agencies got their poop in a scoop, a 21-month moratorium on whitebaiting would allow that. And if nothing else, it would give the poor little beggars a chance to come back.
After enjoying some great whitebait meals over the last 150 years of fishing for them, it’s the least we can do.
If nothing else, it would give the poor little beggars a chance to come back.