In-Depth Story On New Zealand Bluefin Fishermanff

New Zealand Tuna fishermen face a real dilemma. Proposed quota changes mean they have to decide whether to risk raising funds to stay in the business or get out altogether.

The bluefin tuna cowboys of the southern ocean may be a dying breed.

Playing a high stakes games they face an uncertain future fishing for tuna off the New Zealand coast.

Hunting down the elusive southern bluefin on mainly small three to four-crew fishing boats is a draining, extremely physical and dangerous business. Yet with the value attached to the southern and its often more valuable cousin the northern, also found in New Zealand waters, it has been an industry worth developing.

New Zealand boats are limited to catching 420 tons of Southern a year, which at an average price of $40 a kg nets about $17 million. However, business could be about to get much tougher, some fishermen say impossible, with the proposed introduction of a quota system for tuna and its associated bycatch, from October 1 this year.

Already a risky enterprise, dependent on weather and on the migratory tuna taking the squid and sanma baits, long-liners rely on by-catch to cover costs and make money when the big fish aren't biting.

Catching southerns and northerns is lucrative but rare and New Zealand's 100-plus tuna boats often return to port without landing a big paying fish.

On these occasions, the boat owners, skippers, and crew rely on the smaller more abundant albacore tuna and bycatch of blue shark, mako shark, moonfish, bream and broadbill or swordfish.

If the quota proposals go ahead, fishermen with catch history in the 1990-1991 and 1991-1992 seasons will be allocated quota for the fish they landed in those years. The rest of the total allowable commercial catch - the headroom quota - will be sold by tender.

Therefore, as most long liners fishing today started after 1992, the bulk of them could face having to cough up tens or even hundreds of thousands of dollars for quota to catch fish they have been catching and selling for years.

Because of the fears this has caused, the industry is in a state of flux with boats on the market and fishermen considering other employment options.

A day's steam south-southwest of Gisborne, out in the South Pacific Ocean, the hardened high-seas hombres of the FV Caroline are hauling mile after mile of long-line hoping to hook a "Lotto" fish.

Midway through a six-day trip, legendary skipper Colin Kerr and his crew, Jason Smart, 30, and Jarrod Boyd, 23, are putting in 18-hour days of back-breaking work in the hunt for the holy grail of fish - the southern or even better the northern bluefin tuna.

Kings of the fish world, these super-fast oceanic predators are worth a fortune in Japan, where the rich flesh from northerns or "Jumbo Maguro" has been known to reach up to $300 a kilo. Averaging about 100kg - Mr Kerr has landed 300kg-plus monsters - it is little wonder the crew of the Caroline are keen to catch "goldfish" or as the even more lucrative northerns are known "Lotto fish", which can secure huge pay cheques.

“We call them lotto fish because they're a rare catch and could be worth a fortune,” Mr. Kerr said. “If you catch a really big fish and it's a good day in Japan - with not many competing tuna on the auction floor - it can be worth $40,000 to $50,000 or more. It's bloody good money.”
 
These high stakes keep Mr. Kerr and the Caroline crew motivated. But landing the big one is rare, and curses are heard loud and clear when a heavy line gets gaffs in hand and hearts beating, only for a huge but worthless sunfish to be hauled to the surface. “You can get excited by the weight on the line and it's disappointing when it's only a sunfish or a big thresher shark,” Mr. Kerr said.

Sunfish are almost invariably alive despite being hooked up for hours on end and are cut free. But if a big tuna is landed, the pay day can make all the false hopes and back-breaking work worthwhile.

Mr. Kerr's record catch is a northern bluefin weighing 374kg, which sold for $22,000 or almost $60 a kg. His best southern bluefin, typically smaller, was 152kg and earned $16,000 or $105 a kg.

Prices a kilogram fluctuate according to the daily supply and demand at Japanese fish markets especially the giant Tsukiji complex in Tokyo.

A son of a commercial fisherman and gunsmith, Mr. Kerr, 44, is Gisborne born and bred. Built like the proverbial brick outhouse, the father of three sons has been fishing for most of his working life and has genuine concerns for his future. “If you take the bycatch away - the answer is obvious. I'm out of business," he lamented. And as well as providing income for his family, the business Mr. Kerr fears losing is one he loves with a passion.

A rough diamond who has a reputation as a no-nonsense skipper with an unbeaten arm-wrestling record, Mr. Kerr is nothing if not determined. He is certainly prepared to do all he can to ensure he continues to earn his crust at the helm of FV Caroline. He has written an open letter to Prime Minister Helen Clark, continues to pressure Fisheries officials and plans to invite new Fisheries Minister David Benson-Pope to spend time with him at sea. “When I'm fired up, it takes a lot to stop me and usually I barrel anyone who gets in my way,” Mr. Kerr said. He concedes he is fighting an uphill battle. “It's been very difficult to get the powers that be in Wellington to understand how in danger we are of being put out of business,” he said.

In addition to dealing with politics Mr. Kerr also has to concentrate on the job at hand.

Using skills learned from a life at sea he moves from fishing ground to fishing ground hoping to catch the big tuna who are at their best during the autumn months.

Once he locates a suitable spot and gets on the radio to ensure other tuna boats are at least two miles away the "shoot" or line setting is on.

The crew set a thousand hooks, which are left adrift for up to 12 hours on a 25-kilometre line, in the hope of luring tuna.

Baiting the hooks to the combined din of screeching seabirds and heavy metal music the crew work at numbing pace. Their job is to ensure enough bait is down to give them the best possible chance of success and Mr. Kerr tolerates no slacking.

After hours of setting, which is always done at night to minimize the threat to hovering seabirds, including the majestic Wandering Albatross, the crew retires for a feed and then slump exhausted into their bunks. Wake-up call is after six or seven hours of sleep and following breakfast the crew are back out on deck for up to ten hours of heaving lines and hauling in fish.

Mr. Kerr controls the winch hauling the line and counts each fish the two crew pull aboard and store in ice. Albacore tuna weighing up to 20kg provide the bulk of the catch while blue sharks - which are killed, finned and kicked back over the side - are also common.

Mr. Kerr accepts the criticism of what many consider the barbaric practice of finning sharks. “I don't target sharks and I can't help it if I catch them. They also do a lot of damage to our lines, so I look at the fin trade as recovering costs.”

The crew on Caroline ensure the shark is dead by cutting the spinal cord before finning and Mr. Kerr wishes he had a market for the torsos. “We make about $20,000 a year selling fins, but I hate wasting the torsos and wish the fish sheds would find a market, any market, so we wouldn't have to waste them,” he said.

But it's the big tuna the crew want and when there's no luck the upbeat mood soon sours as the hours drag on and muscles tire. “When the fish bite, it's all good but when they don't it's tough,” Mr. Boyd said. “I spent almost four months in the summer out here and we caught next to nothing. Basically I was working for food and a bunk - they're what we call "tucker trips" so I'm real keen to get some big fish now the bluefin season is on.”

However, even after landing a “gold” or “Lotto” fish, the celebrations may soon turn to despair as the condition of the fish is checked.  “We sometimes get what we call 'shitters' which the Japanese call 'jelly belly' or something like that. It's when the fish is in poor condition and is soft not firm ... it's worth basically nothing and is used for cat food,” Mr. Kerr said.

After landing a dozen broadbill worth almost $3000 the mood improved but after six days hard slog the Caroline had landed no big tuna to send off to Tokyo.

The Japanese love affair for bluefins provides big money opportunities for Kiwi fishermen like Mr. Kerr.

To the Japanese gourmet fresh bluefin at the peak of their autumnal fattening, cut paper-thin and eaten raw, provides an experience that has a vocabulary of distinctions as exquisite as that of the French for Bordeaux wine.
 
“The Japanese market is only going to grow but New Zealand fishermen will end up missing out if the quota changes go through and all that yen will end up going to foreign fleets - someone will catch the tuna and if isn't us it's a bloody tragedy,” Mr. Kerr said.


DYING BREED? Jarrod Boyd, left, and Jason Smart hook a swordfish off the East Coast near Mahia. They put in 18-hour days in the hunt for bluefin tuna.

By: Mathew Lo Ho-Sang – Dominion Post