Changing tack to survive

The demise of Burtonport is indicative of the problems facing the Irish fishing industry. As in farming, it is increasingly difficult for small and medium-sized operators to compete and survive. Declan O'Brien reports.

In the early 1980s, Burtonport was one of the busiest fishing ports on the west coast. A plethora of trawlers and half-deckers used it as a base, with hundreds of people employed directly and indirectly. Today, not a single white fish trawler works out of the Donegal port. Many of the men who crewed boats there have either retired or gone out of business; others have moved their vessels to Killybegs.

The demise of Burtonport is indicative of the problems facing the Irish fishing industry, particularly in the lower end of the sector.

As in farming, it is increasingly difficult for small and medium-sized operators to compete and survive.

The introduction of quotas, while necessary to conserve stocks, has restricted new entrants, as the quotas of those getting out are invariably bought by the bigger, more efficient and profitable outfits.

Viewed from the standpoint of cold economics, this development makes sense; the new trawlers in the Irish fleet are among the best in the world at what they do. However, the concentration of the country's fishing quota in a few large centres has drastic implications for small fishing communities right along the coast.

Historically, trawlers in the north-west that fished white fish, such as cod, haddock, pollock, whiting and plaice, used Burtonport and Greencastle. Killybegs was the main base for the pelagic fleet, those fishing species such as herring and mackerel.

In the white fisheries' heyday of the 1970s and '80s, Burtonport was booming. A photograph in the fisherman's co-op shows just how busy the place was, with trawlers tied seven and eight deep at either side of the pier.

"That was taken in the early 1980s when the place was thriving,'' Gerard Breslin explained. "At that time we had 26 trawlers based here. They were mostly on the white fish and we had around 50 small half-deckers working seasonally on lobster and salmon.''

He estimated that up to 150 people were employed directly on the trawlers, with a further 90 to 100 working seasonally on the smaller boats. In addition, around 300 people worked in fish processing plants.

According to Gerard Breslin, who is shellfish manager with Burtonport Fisherman's Co-op, four modern vessels are now involved in crab fisheries but there are just 15 small boats working seasonally between Burtonport and Arranmore. Most of these are fishing salmon and lobster.

A similar tale of decline could be recorded for numerous piers and ports from Donegal to Cork. Small boats are being bought out and replaced with larger vessels that are based in the major ports.

As one industry source put it: "A large number of small boats is being replaced by a small number of big boats. The first round of this took place in the early 1990s and another round of it is happening at present.''

However, tonnage is not the only factor drawing trawlers away from small ports. The infrastructure, as well as technical and marketing facilities provided by ports such as Killybegs, means that it is far easier for trawlers to work.

There is also the human factor. Many men failed to invest in better boats during the late 1980s. With stocks declining, most felt there was no future in the industry and, therefore, no economic sense in sinking borrowed money into more advanced vessels. Ten to 15 years on, a lot of these men are now selling their boats and tonnage and getting out.

The availability of labour is another factor. The 'Celtic Tiger' drew many young people away from fishing and few have returned. Working seven days a week at sea is not that appealing when easier, well-paid jobs can be secured onshore. Generally, Latvian and Lithuanian fishermen have replaced them.

Whatever happens from here, Burtonport's day as a major white fisheries port is past. And many more ports and piers will suffer a similar fate before the final rationalisation of the industry takes place.

Ireland's 'lost opportunity'

A lost opportunity is the only way to describe Ireland's failure to fully develop its massive fishing resources. Although we have a huge percentage of EU waters, our share of the EU fishing quota is miniscule.

To borrow from farming parlance, the fishing industry has been put on the hind tit by a succession of governments. The fact that Killybegs has more millionaires per square mile than any other town in Ireland obviously escaped them.

It is widely stated that had we fought as doggedly for the rights of our fishermen as we did for our farmers, we could have had three or four more Killybegs scattered along the coast.

One industry official, who didn't want to be named, put it very succinctly: "If you manage your fisheries right, it's an endless source of wealth for the country. Countries like Iceland, Norway, Spain and France realise this and would do anything to protect them (their fisheries). That simple message has never got through to Irish politicians.

Finding new fisheries

The loss of the white fishing fleet was a major blow to Burtonport, but it wasn't the end of the road. The local co-op is still a major player in the fish processing business and local fishermen have developed new fisheries in conjunction with the co-op.

The most successful of these has been brown crab fishing. When it became apparent that the white fish scene was declining rapidly, a number of local men invested in state-of-the-art boats for crab fishing.

As a result Burtonport is now the main crab fishing port in the country.

The co-op has developed markets for crab in France, Portugal and Spain, and last year exported more than €4 million worth of the product.

In terms of scale, brown crab fishing will never be as big as the old white fisheries, but it is seen by both the co-op and fishermen as an enterprise that is sustainable and one that has potential for further development.

At the moment there are four vivier boats working out of the port. These vessels allow the crab to be kept alive in tanks after being caught, while special vivier trucks deliver the crab alive to Continental markets. There are eight full-time jobs on each of the boats and a further 10 jobs onshore.

Meanwhile, Bord Iascaigh Mhara (BIM) is carrying out trials with fishermen to see if it's feasible to fish the brown crab in deeper waters. Trials are also underway on other inshore species, such as the green crab and shrimp.

Owen Doyle of BIM maintained that the scientific evidence to date suggests that brown crab fishing is sustainable. However, he said care would have to be taken to ensure that overfishing did not occur. "We need to be careful that we can keep fishing at a sustainable level,'' he said.

Gerard Breslin is confident that this can be done and that crab fishing is a viable, long-term venture for the area. He pointed out that the grounds were well managed and that the fishery was being developed on the basis of scientific evidence

The effect of EU regulations on fishermen

Under EU fisheries regulations, each country's fishing fleet is limited by the tonnage they are allowed to catch and the power capacity of their boats; the latter is measured in terms of kilowatts of engine power.

In reality, this means that any fisherman who wants to build a new boat or upgrade an existing one must buy both capacity and tonnage from another operator.

As in the case of milk quotas, the only people in a position to purchase are the big players.

Consequently, the small and medium-sized boats, that were the mainstay of the old white fisheries fleet in the north-west, are steadily becoming a thing of the past. And many of the small ports are going with them.

Confidence in the future of these small fishing communities was not helped by a proposal from former Minister for the Marine Frank Fahy that all vessels working Irish waters should be licensed, even small open boats.

This created uproar right along the coast as it would have forced the smallest operators to buy both tonnage and engine capacity.

Gerard Breslin maintained that the cost of this for an 18ft boat would be in the region of E6,500. "They wouldn't earn that sort of money in a season,'' he said.

He added that these small fishermen would be reluctant to pay for tonnage anyway as, traditionally, craft of six or seven metres didn't need to. "They never needed fishing licences and never needed tonnage,'' he explained.

"We are not against conservation, and we know that the fisheries have to be regulated, but not at a cost that is going to put a lot of people out of business. A licence of maybe €200 or €300 could be paid. But if they go ahead with the original proposal it will really finish the small inshore boats,'' he insisted.

"The Department of the Marine was to get extra tonnage for these small boats but we haven't heard anything since the election,'' he said. And many small boat owners don't expect to get any.

Some in the industry believe that the present system of purchasing tonnage and capacity is not transparent enough, with the result that they find it difficult to understand some of the decisions that have been made.

More seafood promotion needed

Seafood needs to be promoted more vigorously to increase sales on the home market, Gerard Breslin maintained. He said Irish people were at the bottom of the barrel when it came to eating shellfish but he contended that a strong marketing drive could improve matters. "There is no real tradition of eating shellfish in Ireland and a lot of work needs to be done if that is to change,'' he said.

He added that Burtonport Fisherman's Co-op was trying to develop new products for supermarket chains instead of transporting everything live to fresh markets on the Continent. But, he said, public awareness of the benefits of seafood generally, and shellfish in particular, would have to be fostered.

Seals play hell with salmon netters

Seals are costing salmon fishermen hundreds of euro each week, netters in the Burtonport area maintain. They claim that up to half the salmon that hit nets are nabbed before fishermen have time to land them.

According to local man Gerry Earley, groups of seals follow the fishermen all day in the hope of snatching as many fish as possible. They patrol along the salmon nets, playing cat and mouse with the fishermen.

"One minute they are in front of you and a second later they are 10 yards behind you. Then the minute the salmon hits the net, the seal has it,'' he said. For every salmon the fishermen take, the seals take another, and a few more on a bad day, Gerry reckoned.