The Virginian-Pilot
                            THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT  
              Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: Tuesday, December 19, 1995             TAG: 9512160361
SECTION: FRONT                    PAGE: A1   EDITION: FINAL 
SERIES: SPECIAL REPORT
        DIVIDING THE WATERS
        As regulations to protect the fishery increase, fishermen's expenses 
        rise. While the U.S. catch diminishes, Third World countries become 
        competitors. And commercial fishermen find themselves in a battle with
        a faction that might once have seemed an ally: recreational anglers.
        
SOURCE: By LANE DeGREGORY, STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: NAGS HEAD                          LENGTH: Long  :  211 lines

FISHERMEN FIGHT FOR THE CATCH

With a week off from his job in New Jersey, a new four-wheel drive truck and a few old friends along for the ride, Bob Rickabaugh stuck his surf rod deep in the sands of this Outer Banks beach and waited for the bluefish to blitz.

Sam Rogers and his son, Mikey, were waiting too. They arrived at the same stretch of sand a few hours after Rickabaugh. With a pick-up truck and worn wooden dory, the commercial fishermen set their net in the frothy sea - and surrounded a school of big blues.

The Rogers hauled almost 3,000 pounds of bluefish to shore on that December afternoon in 1992, sending Rickabaugh and hundreds of other nearby recreational anglers into a rage.

``It's a crime,'' Rickabaugh said angrily, untangling the monofilament blowing against his sparkling new reel. ``We were all catching fish. And then they came in and dropped their nets right around the whole school and took them all and ran us off. . . . They should leave the surf to the surf fishermen - and they'd still have the whole rest of the ocean to fish in.''

Rickabaugh had waited all year and driven through five states for the chance to hook a bluefish. He spent hundreds of dollars in Outer Banks hotels, tackle shops and restaurants. He only wanted to keep a few fish for himself.

Rogers' family has commercially fished along the barrier island beaches for four generations. They live on the Outer Banks and depend on the nearby waters to earn a living. THE OUTER BANKS BATTLEFIELD

Angling for fun vs. fishing for survival has in recent years taken on the zeal of a religious war. If commercial fishermen feel beleaguered by regulation, depleted fish stocks and Third World competition, they find themselves also fighting the sporting enthusiasts within their industry. And both sides believe deeply in their cause and their rights.

North Carolina's popular Outer Banks has become a hotbed for the clash. But the battle between commercial and recreational fishermen that has been waged in United States waters for at least a half century is now even spreading to foreign oceans.

And Americans are leading armies on both sides.

On June 1, a group of American sports fishermen convinced the president of Costa Rica to ban the exportation of billfish. Commercial fishermen battled back.

Led by American seafood factory owners, the watermen rallied in protest, stretching ropes and cables between vessels to seal off Costa Rica's primary Pacific ports. They parked their large seafood transport trucks across the two-lane roads into town, locking their fellow townspeople in - and keeping all federal officials out. Boats and buses that tried to traverse the blockades were reportedly barraged with rocks.

Fishermen in Costa Rica succeeded in overturning the billfish ban. But sports anglers say the issue is far from settled.

The same can be said for the states.

``I think there are still some rising tensions out there,'' said Harrel Johnson, a manager for the North Carolina Division of Marine Fisheries.

Recreational and commercial fishermen have been crossing lines in North Carolina since the early 1970s. Long-time anglers tell of conflicts at Cape Point when netters ensnared thousands of striped bass just outside the reach of hook-and-line fishermen wading in the surf.

Recreational anglers say their tires have been slashed on the beach. Commercial watermen say their anchor lines and nets have been cut after dark.

Some tackle shop owners carry guns ``just in case.'' Sports fishermen fear their cottages will be burned down. There have even been reports of death threats.

The conflicts haven't gone unnoticed in Raleigh, the state capital.

Commercial fishing has been restricted or banned in five areas along coastal Carolina. Last year, state legislators imposed a two-year ban on commercial fishing license sales.

To help keep the peace, they appointed regulators and residents to a variety of committees, whose members are studying issues ranging from net mesh sizes and length of long-lines to how many people serve on North Carolina's Marine Fisheries Commission. By next summer, the General Assembly plans to revamp the entire fisheries management system and rewrite all the rules. SOMETHING IN COMMON: THE CRISIS

The stakes are high.< Recreational fishing groups estimate that 1.3 million people drop their hooks and lines into North Carolina's waters each year. In 1995, state officials licensed 18,320 commercial fishing vessels and sold 7,390 licenses to sell fish. That means there are 175 sports fishermen for each commercial waterman in the state, making for a powerful voice.

Recreational fishermen, often supported by conservation groups, seem to be prevailing. In 1994, Florida banned practically all net fishing in the state. A similar net ban was approved in Louisiana.

Net-ban proposls are in the works in Washington state, Maryland, New Jersey and Delaware. Entanglement nets, including gill nets, have been banned in California since 1980, in Texas since 1989, and are heavily restricted in South Carolina and Georgia.

Frustrated by the barrage of commercial fishing laws and confused by the recent outcry against their families' industry, wives of Hatteras and Ocracoke Island commercial fishermen formed a Fisheries Auxiliary in August, 1992. The women study the issues and regulations, lobby rule-makers and attend meetings that their sea-faring mates can't make.

``I do believe recreational and commercial people can work out issues if they sit down and really try to talk - and listen - to each other,'' said Susan West, president and founder of the Hatteras-Ocracoke auxiliary. ``We all need to get past some of the stereotyping that goes on. And we're all going to have to give up something - and change the way we work and play.''

All along the Carolina coast, recreational and commercial fishermen are beginning to agree that they might have more interests in common that either side would care to admit. A new group of commercial conservationists recently formed to work primarily on water pollution problems and fish habitat issues. And both sides are starting to sit down and talk across conference room tables and on long-distance telephone calls.

Even so, the two sides remain deeply divided on the issue central to their dispute: Who is most entitled to the resource? SNIPING AT EACH OTHER

Recreational anglers argue that commercial fishermen need to adhere to strict restrictions in order to preserve dwindling stocks and save the resource. They say commercial fishermen want to catch as many fish as they can, irregardless of what they might need in the future.

Many commercial fishermen say the stocks aren't in trouble. Fish just swim in cycles, with some being more abundant than others each year. Professional watermen, more than anyone, are aware of the need to preserve the fish as a natural resource, they say.

``Until 25 years ago, there was such an abundance of fish around here that there were plenty for everyone,'' said Jack Herrington, an award-winning sports angler who splits his time between a Pittsburgh home and an Outer Banks cottage. ``What we want now is less pressure from the commercial fishermen catching up all the resource.''

``If sports fishermen are so concerned with saving the resource, they should ban prize money from tournaments so fewer people would show up,'' argues Joey Daniels a fourth-generation Wanchese waterman. ``They should make all their contests hook and release so some of the fish might survive. They should ban live bait fishing - for everything.''

The bountiful waters to the south have lured both sports anglers and commercial operators looking to escape the raging debate over the resource in the United States. Costa Rica's commercial fishing industry, acutely aware of the rising interest in their waters among sportfishmen, has montiored the increasing restrictions to the north.

Throughout the fall, about 30 sports fishing boats tie up at the floating, hand-hewn wooden docks of Quepos, Costa Rica. In December and January, another 20 charter boats arrive.

Quepos' commercial fishing fleet contains about 50 boats of all sizes that operate year-round.

``There's a lot of pressure on us from the sports fishermen,'' said Phil Cahill, a former Tidewater resident who runs Luna de Oro seafood factory in Puntarenas, Costa Rica. ``I see more of a problem with the eco-tourism industry and recreational charter boats than from the Costa Rican government.

``How can an American tourism industry eliminate a local economy that the Costa Ricans have come to depend on?''

``We have wars about this going on right now,'' said Marsha Bennett, a California native who owns a popular sports fishing bar in Quepos called El Gran Escape. ``The foreign long-liners fished out the snapper, sea bass, dorado and they're working on the tuna now,'' she says, heatedly stirring a strong iced tea in the sultry 80-degree afternoon. ``They only thing left in these oceans is the sailfish. And now they're exporting those, too.''

Commercial fishermen and sports anglers in the United States are striving to be more conciliatory. Regulatory agencies in North Carolinia and neighboring Virginia recognize the need for a calmer dialogue.

The Virginia Marine Resources Commission has formed eight public advisory boards to help mediate and solve clashes between commercial and recreational fishermen. Bill Pruitt, head of the Virginia commission, credits them with fostering the most amicable relationship between commercial and recreational fishermen of any coastal state.

``I just wanted to get the best advice I could get from the best people I could find, people who were out there on the water all the time and knew what was happening,'' Pruitt said.

In North Carolina, a new group of commercial conservationists recently formed to work primarily on water pollution problems and fish habitat issues. Both sides are starting to sit down and talk across conference room tables and on long-distance telephone calls.

Six months ago, Bruce Freeman moved from New Jersey to become the director of North Carolina's Division of Marine Fisheries. He is helping to overhaul the state's commercial fishing license system and rewrite rules.

But Freeman also is having to come between recreational and commercial fishermen fighting for their rights to the water.

``We end up being the referee in many of these conflicts. I guess somebody has to be,'' Freeman said. ``One of the great problems in this arena is that there haven't been clear policies on what could be done in the past. There's a drastic change occurring in coastal North Carolina.'' MEMO: Staff writer Bob Hutchinson contributed to this story.

TOMORROW: Fish farming is a young industry in the United States, yet

worldwide cultured seafood provides about 20 percent of the seafood

consumed. As wild fishery stocks get more depleted, aquaculture may

someday provide the bulk of our seafood. ILLUSTRATION: Color photo

DREW C. WILSON/The Virginian-Pilot

A charter boat hangs another marlin flag upside down to signal

another live release.

Photos

DREW WILSON/The Virginian-Pilot

Above, Cape Hatteras:

By some estimates, 1.3 million people drop their hooks and lines

into North Carolina's waters each year. Recreational anglers say

their tires have been slashed on the beach. Commercial watermen say

their anchor lines and nets have been cut after dark. Some tackle

shop owners carry guns ``just in case.''

Above, a net haul in Nags Head:

Net fishing has been restricted in Florida and Louisiana, and

several states along the Atlantic coast are considering such

measures.

by CNB