The Lillebealt, the Skagerrak, the Molle, the South Bay: Big trawlers based in Morro Bay, Calif., they used to drag the ocean floor for thousands of tons of rockfish bound for markets and restaurants throughout the state.
Now, under a deal announced Tuesday by the Nature Conservancy, they'll either be converted to less disruptive seagoing uses or be scrapped. Meanwhile, their owners will walk away with checks for several hundred thousand dollars each and dreams of new ways to earn a living, whether by land or by sea.
In exchange for the Nature Conservancy's agreement to buy trawlers and the permits that allow them to operate, local fishermen last year endorsed a federal ban on bottom trawling in a Connecticut-sized swath of ocean from Santa Barbara County to Monterey County. The ban took effect last month.
Nature Conservancy officials on Tuesday hailed the arrangement, calling it a boon both for ravaged sea life and for a fishing community hard hit by soaring costs and a massive tide of regulation.
"We wanted to minimize the impact on the fishermen and maximize our ability to protect our marine resources," said Chuck Cook, director of the conservancy's coastal programs. "Through a collaborative effort, we've protected nearly 4 million acres of seafloor habitat."
Widely considered one of the most destructive fishing methods, trawling involves dragging the ocean floor with weighted nets that indiscriminately scoop up everything in their path. But despite a catch that can be heavy with unwanted species, trawling also is so efficient that it helped Morro Bay thrive as a fishing center for decades.
"Historically, we've had millions of pounds of groundfish landed here over the decades," said Rick Algert, Morro Bay's harbor director. "Trawl landings were what sustained our workforce."
In the early 1990s, governmental and scientific concern about overfishing led to increasingly tight restrictions on how much fish could be pulled from the sea. With boats staying out longer and coming in emptier, Morro Bay's fishing-related businesses -- including such essential fixtures as its fish processor -- trickled away. The fleet dwindled from several hundred to fewer than 50 today.
"It's a desperate business," Algert said. "Almost all of our fishermen are looking for a way out."
