June 29, 1973
Page 22253
OUR VANISHING FISHERIES
Mr. MUSKIE. Mr. President, in the course of the last few years, I have been increasingly distressed by the depletion of various fishing stocks off our coasts and the seeming indifference of the U.S. Government to the plight of our fishing industry. We must all be aware of the fact that foreign fishing off our shores has increased several fold within the last decade and that the world's fishing effort is now of such a large magnitude that stocks can be decimated in a season or two. Witness the virtual depletion overnight of haddock stocks on Georges Bank in the Northwest Atlantic. And now, many experts are predicting similar fates for cod, sea scallops, yellow-tail flounder, and the lobster.
The 1974 Law of the Sea Conference at Santiago, Chile, will offer a unique opportunity for the international community to take a major step toward the creation of an international structure to manage 70 percent of the earth's surface. Such a structure could also serve as a model for subsequent efforts to avoid the conflicts and tensions arising out of unilateral efforts to appropriate a large measure of the world's remaining resources at the expense of those nations not able to compete for them on equal terms.
I am encouraged by these possibilities. I intend to support efforts to reach an international solution to the management of the globe's oceans. But we all should remember that the Santiago Conference is not scheduled to begin for almost another year and it may be several years after the conclusion of the conference before we have any international agreements governing the use of the seas.
In the short run, we must be aware of and deal with the very real problems presented by foreign fishermen to the U.S. fishing industry. These problems cannot be filed away while treaties are negotiated by diplomats. To the extent that fishing stocks continue to vanish, the pressures for unilateral action to extend our fishing limits to 200 miles or to the Continental Shelf will increase. Such pressures are only heightened by the unwillingness of other nations within the international Commission for Northwest Atlantic Fisheries – ICNAF – to work with us to conserve and rebuild offshore stocks.
International management of the seas is by far preferable to unilateral declarations of exclusive rights and jurisdictions. However, if other members of the ICNAF continue to be reluctant to keep their fishing effort within reasonable conservation limits, unilateral action may prove to be the most effective way for our Government to produce the long-run international approach to management of the oceans that we need.
Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent to have printed in the RECORD two recent pieces that touch upon this important problem: an editorial in today's New York Times, and an article in the June–July issue of Travel and Leisure on "The Vanishing Lobster."
There being no objection, the editorial and article were ordered to be printed in the RECORD, as follows:
WIDER FISH WAR?
The "Cod War" that recently has precipitated dangerous encounters between Icelandic patrol vessels and British frigates in disputed fishing areas off Iceland is threatening to move west and escalate into a far more serious confrontation between the United States and foreign fishing fleets operating off this country's East Coast.
Like their counterparts in Iceland, America's fishermen have grown increasingly alarmed over the depletion of valuable stocks. A steadily growing fleet of large and sophisticated fishing vessels from the Soviet Union, Japan, Spain, the two Germanys and elsewhere already has cut the Northwest Atlantic haddock catch to zero and has reduced herring stocks by an estimated 90 per cent in less than a decade of intensive fishing.
Unlike the Government in Reykjavik, Washington has strongly resisted demands that the United States arbitrarily extend its 12-mile fisheries zone. The Administration fears that such unilateral action would undermine its efforts to promote a fisheries agreement at the forthcoming Law of the Sea Conference that will protect other American maritime interests, such as the right of the Navy to roam the high seas and the rights of American fishermen who have traditionally fished off foreign shores.
Rather than extend the fisheries limit, the United States Government has sought to protect American fishermen and their stocks through mutual agreement with other interested nations in the International Commission for Northwest Atlantic Fisheries. This effort, long viewed with skepticism by American fishermen, has now virtually collapsed. Attempts to persuade the Commission to set limits which American scientists regard as essential for conservation and rebuilding of stocks were rejected by the other members at a recent meeting in Copenhagen.
The failure of the International Commission compels the Administration and Congress to give serious consideration to a bill recently introduced by Senator Magnuson that would extend United States fisheries jurisdiction to 200 miles. Although drastic, the bill does take into consideration this country's wider, long-range maritime interests. Its provisions would remain in effect only until ratification of a new international fisheries agreement and it makes allowance for the traditional fishing rights of other nations within conservation limits, following closely United States proposals for a new international fisheries convention.
Conservation by mutual consent is still by far the preferable route, pending ratification of a new convention. But unless other members of the International Commission speedily revise their uncooperative attitudes, the United States may be forced to take the unilateral route in order to save its fisheries, with all the risks of conflict and anarchy at sea which that entails.
THE VANISHING LOBSTER
(By Bliss Spitzer)
One of the little things that seem to nudge a boy into manhood is when he first cracks open, cleans out and devours a whole lobster, all by himself, without missing a single edible scrap. It happened to me long ago on my sixteenth birthday. I had never eaten a lobster before except when it was forked out of a can or stingily scattered among the vegetables in a salad.
I can still remember the hot Sunday afternoon when my father took me by streetcar for dinner at a famous seafood emporium in Sheepshead Bay. The place is still standing, though sadly changed, almost within scent of the old Brooklyn fishing grounds. It was one vast dining room that boomed and clattered with happy noise, like an army barracks at the end of a hard day. The room was packed to its yellow wooden walls with hungry shirtsleeved families shoveling in big helpings of food at long, untidily laden tables. A rich smell of fried fish and draft beer rode on a fresh sea breeze that blew fitfully in through the open windows.
The pound-and-a-half boiled lobster I consumed that day, with deep, lingering enjoyment, was an extra item on the "deluxe shore dinner." If memory serves, it cost my old man an additional two dollars. Today, the price of a healthy Maine lobster of about the same weight, if ordered at a fine fish restaurant would come to $13.50 or more.
Like all especially wonderful things to eat or drink, the price of fresh lobster has zoomed skyward. It is now in that remote heaven for the rich and overindulgent usually reserved for fresh foie gras, French and Italian truffles, prize Kansas beef, Iranian beluga caviar and chateau-bottled wines of the legendary years. Now lobsters cost so much that buying enough to satisfy a family is a serious project, like adding a new wing to your house.
Besides the basic pressures of inflation, there are a number of reasons why prices have soared.
The demand for lobster taken off our northeastern coast has grown worldwide. The supply has been steadily sinking until it can no longer keep up. In 1957, the Maine lobster catch, which supplies 75 percent of the total national consumption, amounted to twenty-five million pounds. By 1972, it had dropped by eight million pounds. In other words, there are now fewer lobsters and more people who want them and can afford to buy them.
Rising prices and a seemingly insatiable demand lured more and more men to take up the hard calling of lobster trapping. Seven thousand of them are now lobstering in Maine. That is more than nature can handle. The inshore waters, once swarming with treasure, have become so overfished that the lobster population is seriously endangered. Scarcity has impelled lobstermen to voyage in their boats as far out as 200 miles, sowing their pots as they go, in the frigid ocean depths.
The situation contrasts dismally with the lavish years of the 19th century. In those innocently permissive days, no statutory laws controlled the size or content of the Maine catch. Lobstermen could, and often did, haul as much as a thousand pounds in a twenty-four-hour day. Not a single creature was discarded because of age or size, not even females who were in an "interesting condition." The pools and grassy shallows among the tidewashed rocks were full of small fry, soft-shells and shedders. These were not acceptable to the wholesale buyers, but farmers harvested them by the cartload to fertilize their fields. Lobster was as common as clams or sweet corn at the day-long beach bakes of that happy period of plenty.
As time passed, wise heads in Maine decided that strict laws were needed to slow down the attack upon the State's most impressive source of natural wealth, worth as much as $60 million annually. This figure does not include the cash crop of summer tourists, who arrive panting for the salt-sea feasting ahead and dreaming of great hunks of sweet meat, with buckets of melted butter to dip them in.
Today the Maine lobsterman works under legal wraps which severely restrict his catch. By state law, he may not take a "keeper" less than 3 and 3/16th inches or longer than 5 inches from eye socket to the rear end of the body shell. To encourage accuracy, the state provides at cost an official measuring gauge. Other states along the eastern coast do not prohibit what Maine considers oversize lobsters, supposed to produce more eggs. This has caused grumbling among Maine men who would like to bring in the big fellows up to jumbo size, or at least increase size limits at either end of the scale.
Where I live, close to the long white ocean beaches of eastern Long Island, commercial fishing boats off Montauk and the Hamptons bring in monsters of ten to twenty-five pounds. They are frequently sold in the retail fish markets near Shinnecock Inlet. I once sat with three friends around a steaming ten-gallon metal container, making a fine meal out of a single nightmarish claw that actually weighed two-thirds of the big fellow's entire poundage. We smashed it open with a heavy hammer and dug out the flesh with our thumbs. There is an old wives' tale to the effect that the bigger the lobster, the tougher and more tasteless he will be, but we did not find it so.
Maine law further prohibits the taking of female lobsters that carry fertilized eggs under the tail, in batches up to fifty thousand at a time. Punishment for infractions brings a stiff fine and even imprisonment. The state has gone a long way to protect its most celebrated product. There is strong organized opposition to oil spill and all other forms of pollution. Scientists are studying the artificial breeding of lobsters, following the hatchery experiments in Brittany and some successful operations in this country with oysters and scallops. The latest campaign to bring back the lobster crop is directed against the big foreign fishing trawlers from a dozen different nations which patrol just outside the 12-mile limit and drag for everything that swims, crawls or just gets in the way. This indiscriminate sweeping, New England fishermen complain, gathers up not only fish but their lines and pods, whether empty or full. The big, efficient trawlers, with their enormous finely meshed nets that miss nothing bigger than a sardine, have already exhausted fishing grounds in other parts of the world. Our nearby ocean waters may be next to go.
Still, in spite of laws, admonitions and experiment, the supply drops as demand grows. Up to the time of cargo planes and refrigerated trucks, people living west of the Hudson never knew the taste of fresh lobster. But that changed as tons of live and kicking Homarus americanus were flown or trucked to all sections of the country. This year, restaurants that used to wallow in Lobster Thermidor or Newburg are feeling the pinch of high prices and scarcity. Today many have dropped lobster and are substituting frozen lobster tails from South Africa, New Zealand and Australia. The tails are fairly edible, but their flavor and texture cannot compare with the inimitable sea taste of Maine lobster, the eating of which is one of the most blissful taste experiences that life affords.
Highly rated restaurants in the bigger cities, where prices seem not to diminish the appetites of clients, still purchase live Maine lobster, undeterred by the costs of jet transportation on top of surging wholesale prices. As long as their clients have the money and are eager to spend it, lobster will be available in these plush places, which cater to the well-heeled hedonist trade. The rest of us will have to wait for some miracle to bring lobster down to our level. In a mood of pessimism, what I see ahead is the day when it will be eaten only on red-letter holidays, as roast goose and plum pudding are served at Christmas.
I have eaten homard in Brittany and Normandy, spiny lobster in seafood places Down Under, the much touted North Sea Hummer in Hamburg and Bremen, and various beasts which pass for lobster in other parts of the world. None can touch the true Maine lobster, its armored shell crammed solidly with crisp yet tender white meat with a flavor which is the sea's own uniquely subtle blend of sweet and salt. Every bit of a lobster but the shell is edible. One should not pass up a single succulent morsel. The green tomalley, which is the liver, is curiously delectable. If you are lucky, you may have on your plate a female "counter," full of roe. This dainty coral-red substance should be eaten with the tomalley, a sea-haunted blend of taste and texture found in no other delicacy.
Nearly everybody loves lobster, but how sad it is to see how few know how to eat it properly. Often, at home or in a restaurant, the precious meat is ripped carelessly from its shell and then served at table in a scramble of bits and pieces, all to save someone a little time and manual employment. Half the joy of eating a lobster is to do the job yourself, slowly, carefully and with loving patience. You will be amply rewarded by the luscious bits that come out of small, secret crevices.
It pains me to think about the evening when my wife and I had dinner in a New York restaurant known for its ponderous steaks and massive lobsters, usually broiled and thickly stuffed with crabmeat and crumbs. Across the narrow room from where we sat was of party of eight or nine ladies and gentlemen, who never stopped talking, hardly even to eat. A fat, perspiring waiter with sideburns and a spotted apron stood at the serving table close by and worked on a huge crimson pile of everybody's favorite crustacean, which incidentally, went for $15 apiece at this highly sophisticated spot. With heavy nutcrackers and his hairy hands, he smashed the lobsters into fragments at high speed and tore out only the meat of the claws and tails. A busboy shoveled the discarded, half-empty shells into a big pail and carried it off, I suspect to a corner of the kitchen where the house cat was licking his whiskers in anticipation. Nobody at the table stopped talking long enough to oversee this operation. Nobody worried about waste or cared whether he would be served all the good lobster his host was paying for. It was a scene that helped explain why there is still so much demand for Maine, East Coast and Nova Scotia lobsters even at the highest prices in our history.
Lobster epicures believe that the ideal eating weight is just under two pounds, young enough for tenderness, adult enough to hove reached full flavor. When you shop for a live lobster, be sure the tail curls up, never droops. If it has already been cooked, pull its tail. If it springs back, chances are good that it was alive and saucy before the cook grabbed it.
As for cooking methods, I can only give my own preference, which is for boiling or steaming, instead of broiling or using elaborate cooking recipes requiring rich, creamy sauces and alien spicing. The subject is controversial, especially in Maine. In a Rockport lobster restaurant, they boiled the creature for half an hour, far too long for my taste. For best results, use a big kettle well filled with boiling sea water if you can get it, about 11/2 quarts to the lobster. Drop it in head first, cover the pot, wait for a rolling boil and cook seven minutes for two pounds and under, ten minutes for specimens over two pounds. The big sin is to overcook. Tenderhearted people often start with cold water, believing that the animal loses consciousness before he can feel scalding pain. In France, the kitchen procedure is to quickly kill by piercing the brain with the sharp point of a knife.
Some Maine residents speak dreamily of eating freshly trapped lobster out-of-doors, steamed over seaweed in a pit of red-hot rocks. This is about as close as one can get to nature and the sea, and as far away as possible from overcivilized techniques. Broiling has it advocates, but too often the cook lets the meat toughen and turn dry. The pure, strong essence of lobster flavor is perhaps best tasted in a Down East stew or a lobster bisque in a fine restaurant in France. Long, slow cooking is what makes these preparations so divinely rich. In the case of lobster bisque a la Francais, the old-fashioned method is to cook not only the meat, the tomalley and the color and white lobster fat, but to reduce the shells to a fine powder in a huge mortar with a giant pestle and add it to the rest. I have never tasted that kind of bisque in this country, even at the most expensive places.
As things stand today, we lobster fanatics are troubled by the gradual disappearance of live Maine lobster at a fair price – but glad to eat one that occasionally comes our way. We live in hope, or at least I do, that some day the scientists will bring back the big crop of the good old years, breeding them in hatcheries to a point where the finger-long young can venture out to sea with a minimum of danger. May that day come soon, while we are still in good appetite,