Authored by Allan Stein via The Epoch Times (emphasis ours),
STONINGTON, MaineāFor veteran lobsterman Travis Dammier, it was the end of another trip at sea on a solo voyage to earn a living.
He was approaching home, feeling less than excited as he navigated his fishing boat, My Kassandra, through the calm waters back to the commercial port of Stonington, Maine.
With little fanfare, the 36-foot vessel powered effortlessly toward the Greenhead Lobster Co. dock, stopping on its starboard side.
Dammier moved quickly as he secured the vessel with thick ropes.
Two dockworkers greeted him, and together they began transferring the live lobsters into large plastic containers for sale in the local market.
Dammier was pleased to return safely with his moving cargo, ready to sell in bulk, even though this landing was light at 140 pounds.
After factoring in expenses for fuel and bait, he estimated his profit at around $100 for three hours of hard labor.
He knew he needed to check more traps and make additional trips to ensure his time and effort would be worthwhile.
Dammier fondly recalled the glorious days of lobster fishing closer to shore, when daily catches could exceed 1,000 pounds and yield substantial profits.
Those years of abundance seemed theyād never end, but they eventually did.
Now, Dammier is compelled by circumstance to venture further out to sea and spend extended periods away from Stonington, about halfway up the Maine coastline.
āThis time of year is brutal,ā Dammier said. May is typically considered a lean month for the lobster harvest season.
New Challenges
Making a living from lobster fishing has become increasingly difficult for experienced independent lobstermen such as Dammier.
The rising costs of doing business, along with uncertain profits and declining landing volumes since the exceptional peaks of the 1990s and 2000s, all contribute to the challenges faced in this industry.
Dammierās profound love for lobster fishing is the only constant, a passion inherited from his grandfather.
At 41, he is tall and easygoing. He wears a baseball cap and a gray hooded sweatshirt with rolled sleeves, layered underneath bright orange and yellow waterproof coveralls.
His trimmed beard gives him the appearance of a seasoned sailor; his expression is steady as he gazes out over the tranquil water.
Working alone on a lobster boat presents its unique challenges, Dammier told The Epoch Times.
āIāve been fishing on my own for eight years now. Iām hauling my regular hauls by myself,ā he said.
He still has a scar on his right forearm from an injury he sustained when he fell overboard.
The boat ran over him, slicing his arm. He managed to pull himself back on board and survived to fish another day.
Even if he had the funds to hire an additional deckhand in these belt-tightening times, Dammier said it is difficult to find qualified workers.
āI think itās because it is hard work,ā he said. āThese new generations just donāt have the ethic.ā
He said many experienced lobstermen are leaving the business due to rising operating costs and state regulations.
He added that some of Stoningtonās independent operators were ābigger dogsā in their day, but time, as well as physical wear and tear, also took a toll on them.
āI know a lot of guys who sold out over the past couple of years with all these regulationsāall the doom and gloomā surrounding the future of the lobster fishing industry, Dammier said.
During the peak years of lobster fishing in Stonington, when daily catches averaged 500 to 600 pounds or more, Dammier fished closer to shore, which made his job less expensive.
āI used to fish right up in there, inside that islandāright there,ā he said, pointing.
It has been four years since he placed a lobster trap in those narrow shoals and put down bait north of Fog Island, northeast of Bar Harbor, about 60 miles from Stonington.
Dammier said the lobsters are no longer as abundant in these locations as they once were. He now has to travel farther and for longer, increasing costs, trips, and the risk of injury.
āYou have to go into deeper waterāgo out further or first,ā he said.
Along Maineās rugged 228-mile coastline, filled with forested islands and stony inlets, lobster catches have declined for the third consecutive year, dropping from 111 million pounds in 2021, to about 87 million pounds in 2024.
MaineĀ produces between 80 and 90 percent of the nationās lobster supply, and Stonington is recognized as one of the leading lobster ports in the country.
With a population of 1,056, Stonington became a separate town in 1897, having previously been part of Deer Isle. It has continued to be a crucial hub of the lobster fishing industry and a tourist destination.
In 2021, the town produced 13.6 million pounds of lobster, valued at $74 million. By 2024, the amount had decreased to 11.9 million pounds, valued at $54.25 million, while lobster landings across the state totaled 86.2 million pounds, worth $528.4 million.
In 2024, the Division of Marine Resources issued 7,463Ā licenses for commercial and non-commercial lobster fishing in Maineās seven coastal management zones. In addition, there were 2.5 million lobster traps in use.
What Has Changed?
Over the past century, yearly lobster catches in the state have varied greatly, falling to an all-time low of 5.3 million pounds in 1934.
Maineās annual lobster catch hit a record high in 2016, totaling 132.6 million pounds, with a market value of $540.6 million.
Patrice McCarron, president of the Maine Lobstermenās Association, said that a common misconception is that lobsters are moving to the colder northern waters of Canada, which contributes to the depletion of Maineās lobster stock.
āI would say the lobsters arenāt moving anywhere. Itās more that the center of abundance where theyāre most available has shifted to deeper waters,ā she told The Epoch Times.
The Gulf of Maine Research Institute, observed that ocean warming from 1984 to 2014 has caused the optimal summer temperatures for lobsters to shift northeastward.
As a result, the lobster population in southern New England fell by 78 percent, while the population in the Gulf of Maine increased by 515 percent.
The organization credited the substantial increase to successful conservation efforts.
Adult lobsters thrive in water temperatures around 50 degrees. However, temperatures above 65 degrees can stress them, negatively affecting their eight-year breeding cycle.
While there has been some warming in the Gulf of Maine, McCarron said that its ecosystem differs from southern New Englandās.
āWe get a lot of the Arctic melt coming into the Gulf of Maine as well. Sometimes that water sinks to the ocean bottom,ā she said.
āWeāve had years of warmth, but nothing thatās outside of what a lobster would stop tolerating.ā
McCarron said that a decline in lobster landings typically follows each boom, yet fishing companies become accustomed to the profitable yields.
āI think the peak was much more than we had ever really expected the resource would provide us,ā she said. āThere was an expectation in the industry that at some point, the landings were going to trail off.ā
Soft Landings
Ron Trundy, the manager of the Stonington Lobster Co-Op, has also observed lobster catches decline from their peak highs and level out.
āSome years, it would be a little less, some more,ā he said.
Trundy said that lobster fishing remains profitable, despite rising costs causing frustration among many in the industry.
He said that prices for fishing gear have increased markedly, sometimes doubling, but the fluctuating cost of lobsters does not reflect these increases.
āThe investment is way higher now than even 10 years ago,ā Trundy told The Epoch Times. āThe expenses are very high now. The business is changing.ā
Twenty years ago, the cost to build a lobster boat was around $150,000. Now, it costs between $500,000 and $600,000, Trundy said.
Before the pandemic, a wire lobster trap cost around $60. Now, lobster boat operators expect to pay as much as $150.
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Tyler Durden
Sun, 06/08/2025 – 08:10