Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind

By Pascal Geraghty on April 14, 2016 in Sport

A few sprays on social media have spurred me to once again wax lyrical on a topic close to my heart – commercial fishing.

It’s with a pinch of sadness that I reflect on the state of the commercial fishing industry in NSW. The fleet is a shadow of what it once was, now the realm of only a comparative handful of mostly middle-aged and elderly gentlemen. It’s got that sense of an era petering out, taking with it generations of skill, experience, knowledge and pride.

I make no bones about the fact that I have a soft spot for the commercial fishing industry. It’s not that I support it unconditionally – quite the opposite, in fact. I am a scientist by trade and believe first and foremost in quality independent research guiding responsible, sustainable fishery management. It’s more of a personal thing. I worked for a number of years in the ocean trap and line and lobster fisheries. Over this time I developed a great deal of respect for the fishers, their tough lifestyle and rich heritage.

So before, heaven forbid, the industry as we know it becomes a thing of the past, if you ever get the chance to have a yarn to a commercial fisherman over a meat pie or a cup of tea, or better still to blow the dust off their home photo albums, grab the opportunity with both hands. It’ll be the most interesting conversation you’ve had in a long time.

These hardy men and women have seen it all, they’ve done it all, caught it all, shot it all, sunk it all and rescued it all, all out at sea, out of sight and out of mind. Exactly where they feel most comfortable. And if you think they’re gagging to tell of their often incredible experiences, you’re wrong. In contrast to the bluff, brag and exaggeration of many of their recreational counterparts, commercial fishermen prefer to downplay and keep things low key.

Over the years I’ve been lucky enough to be recounted a few exhilarating stories. Like the time the boat got hit and trashed by a waterspout; or the time the boys were nearly cleaned up by a stubborn container ship; or the time they found and rescued old mate holding onto his ice box after his vessel hadn’t returned to port; or the time they got blindsided and rolled by a freak wave; or the time orcas were diving their gear and pinching their prize catch; or the time they caught a tonne of fish on a single dropline while fishing a seamount two days steam out to sea.

Sadly, for every set of success, survival or close-call stories, there is always a tale of tragedy; a friend, crew or family member claimed by the most dangerous job in the country.

Commercial fishing is an old and noble job carried out by colourful characters deserved of the utmost respect. I hope that the next generation takes up the call so the industry can stand tall into the distant future. I’d do it, but would only embarrass myself.