Between a Rock and a Hard Place in Lobster Mecca

For more than a quarter of a century, lobster fisherman John Guth has weathered all sorts of unkind elements in pursuit of the stubborn little crustacean that has put food on his table and those thick flannel shirts on his back.

There are the unpredictable ocean currents that play havoc with his submerged traps. There are the gentle coastal breezes that, without a moment’s notice, can become gales strong enough to make even a brawny powerboat stand still in the water.

And then there are the lowly lobster poachers, the pirate divers who, under the cover of night, can fleece a whole set of traps, robbing local lobster fishermen of thousands of dollars a year.

But now fishermen like Guth--a rugged man with strong, steady hands--are facing an element more fickle than anything the moody Pacific could throw their way.

Now, they say, they’re doing battle with the whims of politicians.

In January, following through on the brainchild of Encinitas City Council members, state legislators passed a bill to create an ocean sanctuary along a half-mile strip of coastline in the city, effectively putting it off-limits to commercial and sport fishermen, tide pool robbers, even divers looking for dinner.

The new marine refuge stretches south from D Street at Moonlight Beach to the southern edge of Swami’s Point, a popular surfing spot noted for an extensive reef system that stretches well beyond the breakers. The rugged ocean outcropping serves as a feeding ground for an array of fish, and it harbors perhaps the most abundant crop of lobster north of La Jolla Cove, which is already designated a marine reserve.

Moreover, the tide pools that appear as the ocean recedes each day provide homes for sea anemones, crabs, sea cucumbers and other flora and fauna of the Pacific.

The legislation, sponsored by Assemblywoman Sunny Mojonnier (R-Encinitas), was designed to protect the ecologically rich coastline, prohibiting the harvesting of all manner of marine life from the tide pools and reefs up to 600 feet offshore.

But self-employed fishermen such as Guth see the law as just another threat to their already beleaguered industry, locking them out of the fertile waters that provide their keep.

“In this line of work, we’re at the mercy of the elements, the thieves and the poachers and the unpredictable ocean,” Guth said Thursday morning as he repaired lobster traps on the 35-foot Stephanie D, moored in Oceanside Harbor. “Now it’s the politicians and bureaucrats as well.

“We’ve been fishing those waters for generations and we’ve never harmed the ecosystem there. But as soon as Encinitas becomes a city, these new politicians want to go out and save the world. Well, this little part of the world has already been saved.”

The fishermen cite the 1972 Tidal Invertebrate Act, which protects most invertebrates within 1,000 feet of the shoreline. An exclusion in the act allows commercial and sport fishermen to harvest lobsters in the zone, as long as they keep to limits imposed by the state Department of Fish and Game.

The fishermen hope to gain a similar exclusion for the marine refuge, which they say wasn’t necessary in the first place.

“It’s like putting a stop sign in the middle of the desert,” said Guth, a 48-year-old Encinitas resident. “It’s useless.”

Chris Heiserman, administrative assistant for Mojonnier, said the intent of the legislation is not to put the lobstermen out of business. “That’s not what we set out to do,” he said.

Recently, several lobstermen met with Mojonnier, Encinitas city officials and marine life experts to strike a compromise that would allow them to continue plying their trade within the rich coastal waters.

In the end, Mojonnier agreed to refer the law to legislative council in Sacramento to determine whether licensed fishermen should be allowed inside the protected area, as the lobstermen and their lawyer claim.

The reefs are worth fighting for, fishermen say. The refuge is home to abundant numbers of lobsters because of the rocky clefts and crevices where the creatures seek cover.

“It’s not like we can fish the entire coast; there’s only a few places that support the lobsters in those kind of numbers,” Guth said. “And what’s to stop the guy in Solana Beach or someplace else from wanting to put a refuge in front of his house--where’s it going to end?”

Dave Wigginton, director of community services for Encinitas, said the refuge was intended to protect the tide pools that were being stripped by people walking on the beach at low tide.

Councilwoman Anne Omsted, he said, had noticed a drastic reduction of marine life in the pools because of the “free-lance harvesting.”

While the lobstermen claim their harvests don’t disrupt the fragile ecology, Wigginton said that city officials aren’t so sure.

“That’s what they say, but I’ve been shown no proof one way or the other. I’m not a biologist,” he said.

Officials also worry that the dangerous traps sometimes drift ashore in bad weather or are a hazard to surfers, including one youth who was killed off Carlsbad State Beach in 1985 when his surfboard leash became tangled in a trap line.

Besides, Wigginton said, there has already been compromise. The original scope of the refuge extended to a mile offshore. After the lobstermen complained, it was reduced to the present 600 feet, he said.

Guth said many fishermen are miffed because they were never consulted over the new refuge.

“They don’t care what happens to us,” he said. “We don’t matter; we’re just a few old dinosaurs, anyway.”

In an unusual alliance, the commercial lobstermen have even received support from the state Department of Fish and Game.

Phil Swartzell, a marine biologist for the agency, told officials at the recent meeting that he thought the refuge was redundant to existing state laws protecting the area.

“We should have laws and regulations only to the extent that we achieve what we’re trying to achieve. They shouldn’t restrict beyond that,” he said.

“If the objective is to have life in the tide pool area where people can examine invertebrates and plants in their environment, I don’t think that having lobster fishermen in the area is going to affect that.”

One solution, officials say, would be to offer special permits to the dozen or so lobstermen who regularly harvest in the area. But the last thing Guth and others say they need is another permit.

“I’ve already got 500 permits,” he said. “We’re under the gun all the time from all these agencies. It’s just another club they have to hang over your head.”

Guth, who also fishes his 500 traps off San Clemente Island, says the plan will most likely affect the smaller-scale lobstermen whose boats are too tiny to venture very far from shore.

“It means up to a third of their earnings,” he said. “Some of them could go out of business, lose the livelihoods their fathers taught them.”

Some of them have already left. Last year, a good friend of Guth’s packed in his traps and moved to Wyoming. “He said he was sick and tired of dealing with all the politics,” Guth said.

While reducing the pool of lobstermen in North County may be healthy in the long run, Guth doesn’t want to see any veteran fishermen robbed of their hard-earned professions.

“They’re reducing our territory all the time,” he said. “We’re like a can of worms. Or a bunch of snapping lobsters in a trap.”

For now, officials say, they may be saved by the bell. Lobster season ends this month and doesn’t open again until October. By then, they hope to have found a solution.

Otherwise, officials say, they’ll begin laying the buoys that will effectively wall off North County lobstermen from yet another fertile fishing ground.

As he hauls his traps in for the summer, John Guth can only shake his head.

Sometimes, he says, fishermen are their own worst enemies. They’re loners who rarely agree on anything--independent men with temperaments better fit for the open ocean, not City Council chambers.

“That’s why I became a fisherman,” he said, “to get away from these well-intentioned but uninformed politicians who want to save the world.”