A bright future for fishing? Yes, but there’s a catch...

It was the most searing image of the European Union referendum – and not in the way Nigel Farage had planned when, on June 15, 2016, he led a flotilla of 35 fishing boats, many from Scotland, up the thames to tower Bridge, a dozen then being allowed to sail all the way to Parliament.

For the Stronger In campaign had got wind of it and, foolishly, in concert with Momentum and other deep-Left groups, organised a counter-protest, disastrously including the immensely wealthy Irish loudmouth Bob Geldof.

On their sleek motor yacht and playing deafening music, they looked like a bunch of minted Hooray Henrys – ‘middle-class millionaires and Bob Geldof,’ gloated Farage later, ‘flicking V-signs at me and the fisherman.’

thus Remain lieutenants turned what should have been a minor Leave photo opportunity into a global news story, emphasising the narrative Leave sought – the contemptuous, comfortable Establishment mocking the concerns of ordinary, decent, hard-working people.

Ours is a maritime nation. Nowhere in Britain is much more than an hour from the sea. We owe our preservation from Nazi Germany, eight decades ago, as much to the Battle of the Atlantic as to our bombers and fighter pilots.

Our national dish is fish and chips, so much so that, astutely, it was never rationed. All my great-grandfathers were fishermen, and both my grandfathers served in the Royal Naval Reserve.

Now we are on the brink of being once again a sovereign nation, poised to take back control of our seas at year’s end, a reality the EU and its fonctionnaires seem wholly unable to grasp.

Michel Barnier and chums have laid down three central demands as they begin trade negotiations with our Government – that Britain will continue to follow all EU rules; that we will not sign any trade deal with America that would allow the import of, for instance, chlorinated chicken; and that all EU fishing boats will retain their existing quotas in our waters.

THE first is laughable, the second faintly ridiculous – supermarket pre-packed salad is chlorinated, as the US Ambassador has pointed out – and the third is sheer cheek.

‘the UK did not vote twice to take back control of its fishing waters only to give it up again,’ the Prime Minister’s spokesman flared the other day.

‘It doesn’t matter what the EU puts in its negotiating mandate, as we will become an independent coastal state.

‘this does not need to be negotiated, nor will it be. Access by non-UK vessels to fish in UK waters will be for us to determine.’

Boris Johnson will be loath to give any significant ground on this. An island nation must be seen to be in charge of its own seas. Five of the six tory seats retained in Scotland at the last general election have significant fishing communities – as were quite a few of those snatched from Labour, such as Great Grimsby. No industry was harder hit by the Common Market we were suckered into all those years ago.

Some 80,000 British fishing jobs have vanished since the 1970s. Hundreds of craft have been decommissioned. Harbours that once bobbed of a Sunday with resting smacks and trawlers are now largely marinas for the wealthy.

And, all round our coast, locals look on as fishermen from France, the Netherlands and elsewhere make merry in grounds that were once ours.

For nearly 50 years, the Common Fisheries Policy (CFP) has dictated where UK fishing boats can operate and how much they can catch. It has also given EU nations access to British territorial waters. Leaving the CFP will have a dramatic impact on coastal communities.

In July 2017, Michael Gove, then environment secretary, announced we would leave the 1964 London Fisheries Convention, which allows ships from six EU nations to fish within six to 12 nautical miles of our coastline.

Ultimately, we will take back control of territorial waters up to 200 miles, enabling the UK to ‘dramatically increase the amount of fish that we catch’.

Little, though, in this industry is as simple as it seems.

Fishing is not nearly so vital to our economy as many think. there are fewer than 12,000 fishermen in Britain, contributing less than half a per cent to our GDP. Nor can the EU be blamed wholesale for the destruction of stocks. British fishermen did a splendid job of that themselves, before any craft from the EEC (as it then was) won access in 1983.

Herring were so overfished in the 1970s that the Scottish Office had to impose a ban.

East Coast ring-netters destroyed traditional shortline fishing in the Western Isles between the wars, despite the desperate endeavours of men such as Compton Mackenzie and John Lorne Campbell.

Scallop dredging is still widely permitted, despite the damage it does to the sea bed.

Withdrawal from the CFP will allow Britain to develop a fisheries management regime best suited to our waters and fleet. But there are snags.

FEW Scottish vessels foray much beyond British waters. But their English comrades also fish in those of Ireland, France and Norway.

Worse, much of our catch is exported to the EU, leaving us vulnerable to hostile tariffs. And we have a right to harvest much cod from waters off northern Norway, offsetting that by transfers of other stocks more sought in the EU.

the biggest difficulty, though, is practical – we do not have the resources to patrol and defend our waters from EU incursion, a concern when French fishermen have made plain they will plunder our seas whether it is legal or not.

Uneasy memories stir of our Cod Wars with Iceland nearly half a century ago.

Fishing is, statistically, the most dangerous job in Britain.

Few years pass in the Western Isles without a tragedy – such as the three men lost with the MFV Louisa in April 2016 – and recruitment is difficult. the jolly tars on a Stornoway boat today are as likely to hail from Lithuania as North Lochs.

Greater disasters haunt many coastal communities. the ‘Great Drowning’ off the Butt of Lewis in 1862 cost 30 lives, left 24 widowed women and 71 fatherless children.

In the Eyemouth catastrophe in 1881, 189 men perished – mostly from that Berwickshire village. All debate on fishing is in the shadow of such tragedies.

Brexit is exciting because it opens up opportunity and will restore much power to our rulers and representatives.

But ultimately, the final trade deal with our European neighbours comes down to hard, practical politics.

And in fishing, as much as in anything else, politics is never more than the art of the possible.