IN THE MOVIE AQUAMAN, Patrick Wilson plays a villain who wages war on humanity over man’s alleged mistreatment of the sea. In real life, Wilson films promos for Oceana, a Hollywood-backed non-profit that advocates for strict regulations on commercial fishermen. “The oceans are talking to us, because they’re in trouble,” Wilson says in one viral ad. “But we can help them by winning victories over overfishing, pollution, and more.”
Ask your average environmental activist about their impression of commercial sea fishing and you’re likely to hear about turtles caught in plastic soda can rings or dolphins trapped in drift nets. Popular documentaries like The Cove and Oceans depict the world’s seas as a Manichean slaughtering ground where humans savage innocent sea life, with no regard for sustainability or conservation. (Both were produced by the politically oriented studio Participant Media, best known for the Al Gore film An Inconvenient Truth.)
Non-governmental organizations (NGOs) like Oceana have piggybacked off this cultural wave in recent years, leveraging Hollywood connections to gain media and political influence. But these groups—and the restrictive laws they’ve helped shape—are grounded in alarmism about commercial fishing that doesn’t match up with the facts.
“What we call the environmental movement is a religious movement,” says Michael Shellenberger, author of Apocalypse Never: Why Environmental Alarmism Hurts Us All.
In an interview for a Pacific Legal Foundation documentary, Shellenberger says many environmental NGOs “are trying to meet people’s existential or spiritual or psychological needs. They’re not actually trying to make the environment a better place. It’s just the ‘Marvel Comic Universe’ approach to environmental problems. It’s so exaggerated. It’s always so elitist. It always seems to involve telling poor and working people what they can and can’t do.”
When it comes to California fishermen, the list of what they can’t do is getting out of control.
In 2018, the California Assembly passed a bill that would phase out permits for drift gillnets, which are the only viable method for commercial swordfishing. The rationale is that drift gillnets capture too much “bycatch”—species other than the one you’re fishing for, such as turtles. This is effectively ending swordfishing in the state. (The federal government may soon follow California’s lead. In 2020, then-President Donald Trump vetoed a bill that phased out the use of drift gillnets in the West Coast fishery. That same bill—which does not take into account if there are economically viable alternatives for these fishermen—has now passed the Senate, and a companion bill in the House has passed out of committee.)
The nets are expensive. The state set up a fund to buy back the nets from fishermen at $10,000 each, with an additional $100,000 offered to buy back the permits required to use the nets. Still, that compensation comes nowhere close to the true lifetime value of the nets and permits.
Instead of drift gillnets, fishermen will be required to use something called a deep buoy set, which is supposed to reduce bycatch further. But with the deep buoy set, you’re effectively catching one swordfish at a time. That’s fine for a hobbyist—but not for a real fisherman.
The upshot is that American fishermen are being run out of business for not meeting impossible standards. And by making fishing increasingly unviable as a living in America, laws like the drift gillnet phaseout aren’t even protecting sea turtles or dolphins. They’re putting them at greater risk. The food industry will have to get its seafood from somewhere else—countries like the Philippines or Vietnam, whose waters are much less regulated and result in much more bycatch. The ocean waters of Mexico have far more sea turtles than the California coast, with nowhere near the sustainability and safety measures. In order to mitigate bycatch, California politicians have done everything in their power to ensure that there will be much more bycatch. The shame of it all is that there is no cleaner fishing industry than the California swordfish industry—and now that industry is disappearing.
ATTEND ENOUGH OCEANA fundraising events and you might get to meet Jon Hamm or Leonardo DiCaprio. But you’re not going to run into anyone who actually fishes for a living—the ones downstream of all the regulations and criticism were pushed out by this “Marvel Cinematic Universe”-style environmentalism.
If you did ever meet actual American commercial fisherman, like Chris Williams, you’d learn just how unfairly and inaccurately their industry is portrayed. Chris spoke to us a few years ago about what regulations have done to California fishing. He even took our camera crew out on his boat to show what being a fisherman is really like.
Drift gillnets have come under a lot of scrutiny from the activist class—but somehow, activists don’t apply that same scrutiny to learning how California fishermen use the nets. The truth is that bycatch is extremely rare.
“We don’t do that,” Chris told us, adding that he hasn’t caught a turtle in 17 years. In fact, there hasn’t been an observed death of a sea turtle due to drift gillnets since 1999. “We’re the most regulated fishermen in the world. Instead of actually mitigating problems, it’s ban, ban, ban.”
The public’s impressions of the American fishing industry would be very different if they spent time on these boats, shadowing actual fishermen and seeing how a fish makes its way to your plate. The boats are often small and cramped. Chris’ was 40 feet by 15. You’re out for weeks at a time, away from family. You’re completely at the mercy of the weather and the sea, many miles from the shore.
The labor itself can be brutal. We suspect that your typical environmental activist has never had what Chris calls “black nail.” Black nail is what happens to your fingers when you’ve been gripping ropes and hauling in nets for weeks on end, and you luck out and pull in 30,000 pounds of fish in a day and your fingernails just…fall off.
You’re also heavily scrutinized by the government. Every third trip, fishermen are required to have a federal observer living with them on the boat for up to 10 days at a time. That’s another mouth to feed and another body you have to keep safe. The observers track everything the fishermen do, to ensure they’re complying with the law. “They’re nice people,” Chris said. “But I don’t want them living in my boat with me 24/7.” Who would?
There’s also the GPS tracking device.
“I am required to have a GPS device which tracks my every move of my boat. And it goes directly to an office in Washington State where federal agents watch it. They could give me a fine six months later and never notify me.”
But these fishermen don’t need anyone’s sympathy. They love what they do. Commercial fishing is one of the few industries left where you can make a good living without a college degree. “My family didn’t have the means to send me to college,” Chris told us. “I found commercial fishing. It’s provided my family with a way to make a living, and people need that. Not everyone has a college path.”
But the squeeze from the torrents of ever-changing, ever-expanding regulations has resulted in a dying industry. “In my whole career, there’s been a 90% reduction in the number of fishermen in the state of California,” Chris said. “In my fishery, when I first started, there were probably 40 guys who do what I do, and now there’s five.”
At the beginning, Chris’ fishing operation was a family effort. He’d spend weeks out at sea, then haul fish back into port in Oxnard, just north of Los Angeles. Then it was straight to the farmers market, where his wife, Dania, and his children—two sons and a daughter—helped gut and sell the fish directly to their community.
“When you go out, put yourself against the elements and feed 10,000 or 20,000 meals—that’s a great feeling…. That’s always a great feeling.”
The Williamses started their business, Fresh Fish Fanatics, at the right time in the culinary zeitgeist. The farm-to-table social movement caught on in the early 2000s and has only become more popular over time. Californians in particular are fans. It’s popular for a number of reasons. Locally sourced food is often more environmentally friendly, because it doesn’t have to travel as far. The local emphasis also tends to help smaller family-owned outfits, rather than some distant corporate outlet.
If you shop at local farmers markets, you’re actually meeting the people who grow or catch the food you’re going to prepare and share with your family. And that improves the perspective of not just customers but also sellers. The Williamses like knowing the people they’re feeding. “I’ve discovered that people just crave local food. There’s just no better way to get fish than day-fresh fish like I supply it,” Chris told us.
TODAY, CALIFORNIA FISHERMEN are at a crossroads. Do they continue to pursue the difficult, rewarding work they love and keep providing fresh fare for the state’s farm-to-table enthusiasts? Or do they decide that California—and its activist celebrities attending Oceana galas—have made the businesses commercially unviable?
PLF is currently representing several swordfishermen in a lawsuit challenging the drift gillnet ban. The California Department of Fish and Wildlife tried to have the case dismissed in February, but the motion was denied. For now, the fight continues.
As for Chris Williams: After decades as a swordfisherman, Chris eventually decided he’d had enough. He allowed California to buy back his drift gillnet. For now, he still fishes for other fish species. But when he retires, he plans to sell his boat—to his 26-year-old son, Max, who is still optimistic about the future of California fishing.
Max is a third-generation fisherman. He grew up with fishing as the family business. His father cultivated a love of fishing in his kids. When we asked Chris several years ago how he’d feel if one of his kids became a fisherman, he said, “If they want to go fishing, I’d love it. And I think it’s an awesome way to live. I’m totally supportive of that.”
But the California Department of Fish and Wildlife is far less supportive.
Max wants to catch halibut, not swordfish. For halibut, fishermen use a regular gillnet, not a drift gillnet. Fortunately, there’s no ban on gillnets—but, unfortunately, you need a permit to fish with one in California. And here’s the rub: California has had a moratorium on issuing new gillnet permits since 1985—a decade before Max was born.
Under state law, permit holders can transfer their gillnet permits to another fisherman, if the transferee is “otherwise qualified” for a permit. This system worked fine for years, but the California Department of Fish and Wildlife is re-interpreting its own rules. The department is now insisting that all permit transferees must have a level of experience that a fisherman can obtain only if he once had a permit or illegally fished without one.
Max has followed all the rules. He worked on gillnet vessels for years and saved nearly every penny he made. He bought his own boat, restored it, and plans to take over his father’s boat as vessel captain when Chris retires. Max dutifully followed regulations by arranging for a gillnet permit transfer request from an experienced fisherman in the community, who was happy to transfer his permit to Max.
But the transfer request was rejected. All of Max’s savings and plans—the fishing life he knows, the career he was building for himself—are now in jeopardy.
Max, like his father, doesn’t like seeing people in his industry pushed around. PLF is now representing him in a lawsuit against the California Department of Fish and Wildlife, arguing that the department is misinterpreting its legal authority. There’s no reasonable justification for denying Max the permit he needs to fish for halibut.
California regulators seem intent on discouraging young fishermen like Max who still believe fishing can provide economic opportunity and a good life. If things don’t change soon in the state, there will be no next generation of California fishermen—it will be a way of life that dies out when Chris’ generation retires.
That seems to be what California NGOs and Hollywood activists want. To be sure, there are environmental NGOs that do good conservation work. Organizations like the Environmental Defense Fund (EDF) and the Property and Environment Research Center (PERC) work directly with ranchers, farmers, and fishermen. But other groups, like Oceana, are tragically misguided. They push for sweeping bans and adopt an antagonistic attitude toward fishermen—the working families who practically live on the water.
In his Oceana commercial, Aquaman star Patrick Wilson tells viewers that “everyone can be an ocean hero.” But few people actually have what it takes to be heroic out on the ocean. We all have our callings in life—and for some, fishing is a calling.
The ocean heroes are tough souls like the Williamses, who’ve braved the open seas, and the black nail, and the fickle weather, and the days where the catch is light. Most of all, they brave the unreasonable, constantly changing rules imposed on them by activists and politicians who are better at making themselves feel good than actually doing good.
“We need our oceans. Oceans could help feed more than a billion people,” Wilson says at the end of his Oceana promo spot. On this point, he couldn’t be more correct. Our oceans are a tremendous food source and can be fished sustainably to feed the world. People like Chris and Max can do this. It’s just not clear whether the government is going to let them.
BUTTER-POACHED HALIBUT
Wild halibut can grow up to nine feet long and are generally preferable to farm-raised halibut, due to the latter’s diet. When buying halibut at a grocery or fish market, make sure the flesh is white and glossy—that’s how you know it’s fresh.
To cook: In a saucepan over medium heat, melt 2 tablespoons of butter in a saucepan. Add shallots and sauté until translucent. Next add the juice from half a lemon and all your remaining butter. When all the butter is melted, place the halibut gently in the middle of the pan. The cooking liquid should submerge about 2/3 of the fish. Turn the temperature to high and cook until the butter begins to boil, about three minutes. Turn to low and cook for an additional minute. Remove from heat and finish with chopped chives or parsley, a slice of lemon, and flaky salt to taste.
12 oz halibut
1.5 sticks (12 tablespoons) unsalted butter
Half a lemon (slice the other half to use for garnish)
1 tbsp diced shallots
Chopped chives or parsley
Flaky salt