Twenty years ago I was staying at a fishing lodge in Labrador fly fishing (catch and release) for Atlantic salmon. There was a fascinating couple staying at the lodge with me. After college they had taught the native Inuit children, following the migrating caribou herd on snow mobiles. After they got tired of doing that (Can't imagine why!) they went to work for the government, and he was then the Director of Tourism for Newfoundland and Labrador. At dinner one night, the owner, Gudie Hutchings, served a Newfoundland delicacy, deep fried cod tongues. This couple chided Gudie, and told the story of the collapse of the northern cod fishery. He made a statement that has stayed with me to this day. He said that the Newfoundland fisherman had developed the technology to catch the last fish in the ocean, and unfortunately they were doing it. We have all heard the end of that story....
In 1992, the fleet went out for the season, and the northern cod were gone. Kaput. History. A fishery that had literally fed the world for five centuries was totally fished out in a few years, with a cod population so decimated by new trawling technology that there was not enough natural reproduction to sustain it. Literally 99% of the total northern cod stock that had still lived in Newfoundland in the 1960's was fished out by 1992. That was only eighteen years ago. The story has been retold because of the economic impact that the collapse had on local industry, with thousands of commercial fisherman and and the support industries that went along with them all needing government financial subsidies and retraining in new careers. Somehow the fish got lost in the bigger story. Why does it look like we are doing this again?
In the last few months I have read numerous articles and blog posts about the state of the ocean fishery. This summer the hot topic was bluefin tuna, where efforts were being made to tighten the catch quotas in an effort to let populations regain their number. Those efforts failed due to intense lobbying from the Japanese, the biggest consumers of this sushi delicacy. But many restaurants still list it on their menus. Hardly a week goes by without an article about Chilean sea bass, originally known as Patagonian toothfish, and obviously in need of a stage name. Many populations are over-fished. Fishing methods – baited long lines - lure thousands of sea birds, including the endangered albatross, to their deaths as by-catch. Yet many restaurants still carry Chilean sea bass on their menus.
Farm raised salmon? Where do I begin? It is seemingly a paradox that harvesting wild fish is better for the environment than raising them. Alaska has proven that fisheries can be managed for maximum sustainable yield. Unfortunately the salmon farming industry has proven that their methods, in most instances, results in an unacceptable product, and can devastate the environment. Their are certainly exceptions, but the industry (or the government) has not enforced or even developed a standard that consumers can use to confidently buy a quality product. Modern salmon farming certainly was a well intentioned, good idea - gone bad. The fish are often raised in holding pens near wild Atlantic salmon rivers. The open net farms allow the spread of disease and sea lice to wild populations. Antibiotics must be added to their diets to help them ward off diseases prevalent in such close conditions. Effluent from the colony of contained fish drifts to the sea floor and contaminates everything down stream. Food coloring must be added to their feed to develop the “salmon” color of wild fish (which comes from the wild salmon's natural diet). Escaped farm raised fish can and do interbreed with wild stocks.
Here in the Adirondacks, Department of Environmental Conservation (DEC) scientists are scrambling to preserve the few remaining strains of brook trout that they have located in remote locations. Most wild brook trout strains were lost to habitat destruction, but those that were left were thrown into a genetic soup of farm raised hatchery fish introduced by the stocking programs of the same aforementioned DEC. So why is salmon farming any different, or any less dangerous? We are jeopardizing the genetic strains of wild salmon with each farm raised fish that escapes into the wild.
Last month media outlets were reporting that the FDA is considering allowing the introduction of a new genetically engineered Atlantic salmon that grows at twice the rate of a "normal" fish. Proponents say this is an advantage because it now takes over two pounds of forage fish protein used to make the salmon feed to grow just one pound of farm raised salmon. This new “franken-fish”, which contains the DNA of a faster growing sea pout, will be more economical. Lucky us. And sterile. That just gives me a warm fuzzy feeling all over. How about you?
There are lots of reasons why the campaign to eat sustainable fish has not gained more traction. One is the cost. As an example, wild Alaska salmon does cost more than farm raised salmon. We order our wild salmon online from
Fred's Alaska Seafood. Currently sockeye salmon filet costs $12 per pound; coho is $11. The king salmon we had last night for dinner was $15 per pound. I rationalize it this way: A healthy eight ounce dinner portion of sustainable, delicious, just caught, wild Alaska king salmon costs $7.50. Not so bad. Maybe it is a luxury, but I feel the same way about the $4 "heritage" tomato I bought at the farmers market last week. If you can afford the extra few dollars, its the right thing to do. I understand that not everyone can do this, but if
nobody does this, we are going down the road to Newfoundland and the northern cod catastrophe.
The other reason that the issue doesn't get more traction is that it's complicated. I have a hard time figuring out what fish is OK to order and what is verboten - and I'm paying attention. Pacific Halibut, good. Atlantic Halibut, bad. Local hand line caught swordfish, good. Imported or long line caught swordfish, bad. You can't tell the players without a scorecard, so here's the scorecard:
Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch. You can print out the wallet card, or download an app for your phone. (Finally an app that is actually useful!)
The bad news is that even if you know if the fish on the menu has a stamp of approval, the overwhelming odds are that your server has no clue what they are really serving. My experience is that unless you are dining at a seafood specialty house like Esca or Le Bernardin, the majority of restaurant staff don't know, don't; care, or both. They will tell you what they think you want to hear. They all get away with this because they think the average diner does not really care.
So here is my suggestion. We need to start speaking up. We need to let them know we do care, and we are paying attention. There is not enough wild fish to satisfy demand. There never will be. We need the fish farming industry to develop and enforce a certification standard that assures consumers that their product is healthy and produced under environmentally sound conditions. Currently know one trusts the process. We need the waitstaff going back into the kitchen to ask if the fish is farm raised or wild, hand line caught or long lined. The chef and the owner need to hear those questions all night long. I am as guilty as anyone of not doing this. If a menu just says “salmon” I don't ask if it's wild; I already know it is not. If it was wild they would be bragging about it on the menu. So I just order something else. That's not good enough.
We need to speak up. We need to ask - every single time. We need to let them know that we are paying attention and we do really care. If they are serving “wild Alaska salmon” we need to make mention of it and let them know we appreciate it. If the menu just says “salmon” tell them you'll have it if it is wild, otherwise ask how and where it was raised. If bluefin tuna is on the menu we need to ask if they have yellowfin (ahi) tuna. (or walk out - and tell them why!) If monkfish is listed, ask if they have something that is not over-fished - like Pacific halibut. The first time we ask they might not know the answer. Six months down the road, when they have heard it hundreds of times, they will know. We should be nice about it, but let them know we care. If they hear it every night, all night long, they will get the message. The message is worth telling.