David Handley George’s little blip may torpedo UK fleet

WHEN I was involved in organising the fuel protests some 20 years ago I came into contact with quite a few British fishermen, who were as concerned as farmers about the economic impact of constant duty rises.

We had quite a lot in common: like farmers the fishermen were dedicated to the job but, like farmers, sometimes very poorly served by the organisation that was supposed to be representing them.

And I can quite understand their anger at witnessing the little daffodil grower who now heads up Defra explaining that the catastrophic mess Boris’s wonderful ‘deal’ has seen the fishing industry descend into was actually no more than ‘a little blip’.

Particularly so given the manner in which the statement was made in the Commons. I do quite a bit of public speaking and always follow the golden rule of standing with my head up so the audience can clearly hear what I am saying.

George Eustice, on the other hand, could barely raise his eyes as far as the benches opposite and throughout his statement appeared to be fascinated by the pattern on the floor tiles. I am no expert in body language but to me he had every appearance of a minister who has been shoved into the chamber to spout the Government’s official line without in fact believing a single word of it.

If that was the case then this was a disgraceful performance. If on the other hand George actually believed what he was saying it was an even bigger disgrace.

George Eustice of all people should have known precisely how vulnerable the British fishing industry was to disruption given that for decades 80 per cent of the British catch has been exported seamlessly, quickly, painlessly and profitably to Europe.

Given the scale of the trade and the millions of pounds at stake even a ‘blip’ is going to cause huge problems – and anyone who believes the current difficulties can be sorted out by a bit more horse-trading clearly didn’t hear Michel Barnier announcing that the terms of our departure had been set in stone and there was to be no more tweaking.

There is, as always, another side of the coin and that’s the matter of why 80 per cent of our fish – some of the finest in the world – has to be sold abroad.

Clearly it’s going to where the demand is strongest because continental consumers eat more fish than we do.

But I would suggest that’s only because there has been a woeful lack of promotion by the various responsible authorities within the UK. Until 1979 nearly every high street used to have its Mac Fisheries wet fish shop but since the chain folded fish retailing has been 95 per cent controlled by supermarkets.

And two generations of children have grown up believing that fish is something that comes in an online block about four inches long and is then covered with orange breadcrumbs, because that’s virtually the only form of fish that has been promoted.

Fishfingers are actually the most expensive way there is of eating fish but equally deliver the fattest profits to processor and retailer. I rest my case.

As the Cornish skippers discovered when Covid shut all the hotels and restaurants, there is a very good income to be had selling direct to the consumer – and once consumers get a taste for really fresh fish they’ll keep coming back for more.

Perhaps there’s a lesson here for many others, but it will take a massive restructuring of the industry to change the way fish is sold to provide the people who catch it with any kind of secure future.

The interesting thing will be to see whether the industry associations, who until January 1 were revelling in the easy pickings on the Continent, are going to be up to the challenge of doing so or whether George’s little blip is going to torpedo large sections of the UK fleet.

George Eustice of all people should have known precisely how vulnerable the British fishing industry was to disruption