An old man of the sea turns 100 today. Nigel Benson visits the Port Chalmers Fishermen's Co-op.
The first fish hook thrown into Otago waters was probably made of bone.
Maori were fishing for hundreds of years before European settlement.
When Europeans did arrive in numbers, they were so impressed by the hills clad in mutton, beef and bacon by the first pale immigrants that they weren't very interested in chasing fish.
Although the sea around their new homeland teemed with fresh seafood, British settlers even imported cured, salted and canned fish from Europe.
Fast-forward a century and a half and New Zealand has the fourth-largest fishing zone in the world (4 million square kilometres) and an industry worth more than a billion dollars a year in export revenue.
New Zealand produces just over 2% of the world's seafood exports, selling into a global market in which the United Nations predicts demand will rise by 30% in the next 10 years.
Retired fisherman Chris Spiers has seen a lot of sea changes in the industry since he started work as a boat-builder at Miller and Tunnage in 1956.
Mr Spiers later built his own boat and went fishing for 12 years, becoming president of the Port Chalmers Fishermen's Co-op (PCFC) in the mid-1970s.
He left the industry in 1985 to take over as skipper of the University of Otago research boat, RV Munida, before retiring in 2005.
Mr Spiers' grandfather, Lake Falconer Ayson, was the first national chief fisheries adviser, in 1898, and helped establish the Portobello marine laboratory and fish hatchery (which was originally planned for Purakaunui).
"The fishermen were made up of different nationalities back when I started in the '50s - Italian, French, Norwegian, Dutch and Maori. They would closely guard their secrets and fishing spots," Mr Spiers says of his early days in the industry.
"There were 50 trawlers operating out of Port Chalmers then. There's only seven or eight now. But the only thing that's really changed is the people. The issues and what's out there [the fish] haven't changed at all.
"I don't think there's another industry like it. It's a way of life," he says.
"In the '50s, we had a product that was gourmet and the prices should have reflected that. But we were making two bob an hour, because we couldn't supply the market.
"If we sent eight containers to Japan, they wanted 50 containers.
"That didn't change till the big overseas fishing boats started coming down here in the '80s and orange roughy were falling on the deck," he says.
"Fishing is pretty cyclic. It's on an upwards swing now, but there's not much money in it commercially."
Of about 130 species fished in New Zealand waters only 43 are commercially important.
Our most significant fish are deep-water species, taken from depths of 200 to 1200m, such as hoki, hake, orange roughy, ling, oreo dories, squid and silver warehou.
Among those in the hunt are the fishers of the Port Chalmers Fishermen's Co-op, an organisation founded 100 years ago in 1909.
"The industry was established in Otago for 50 years before the guys got together and formed the co-op. Eventually, because of marketing, they needed to get together and form one voice," Mr Spiers says.
"There are 37 boat owners in the co-op, but we've also got a few Bluff members. It was quite a political force in its day. Port Chalmers was always a very strong local society. It was always very vocal.
"The trouble was every time we got one fellow [minister of fisheries] sorted they would change him."
The biggest change the industry has faced was the introduction of the 200-mile economic zone, he says.
"That and the introduction of radio in the 1950s. They were ZC1s - old army surplus radios that had been adapted for marine use.
"But the Dutch weren't allowed to use them because it was just after the war and they were foreigners. That was the regulation."
A kilometre off Taiaroa Head, Ant Smith and Evan Kenton are trawling for barracouta on Aurora.
Sea birds sit off the stern squawking and cussing.
Skipper Smith (45) started fishing 22 years ago and hopes to pull in five tonnes, or 150 boxes, of barracouta on this trip.
"We'll make a wage today, but not a profit," he says.
"If we did that every day of the year we'd go broke. It lets me pay a little bit off the mortgage, but we're really just killing time until the cray season. But that's not till August.
"We get $7.32 for a 35kg box of 'couta. But by the time we pay for fuel it will be a pretty close thing. There's no doubt things have got tighter.
"When I started 22 years ago our lemon [fish] price was $4.80. Now the best price is $2.71."
That is despite the international demand for seafood.
"Most of our fish goes off-shore to Europe and Spain, while the flats [flatfish] are growing in the local market. But with the credit crunch, people aren't buying as much," Mr Smith says.
"We gave up 'couta 20 years ago because we couldn't make money off them," deckhand Kenton says grinning.
"But what do you do? Things have certainly changed over the years. It used to be a lifestyle and you had a lot of time off. There were a lot of old characters around in those days.
"You'd have guys sitting in the pub all day long. You worked three days a week and you were making as much as a lawyer," he says of the halcyon days of the late '60s and early '70s.
"Now you're not making as much as the receptionist at the front of the office."
Owner-operators with small boats are a dying breed.
The high cost of fuel and equipment and declining quota allocations along with increased government regulations have squeezed many out, he says.
Fishing was once a way of life in many coastal communities.
Today it is primarily a business and many small operators can no longer compete with the larger fishing companies.
"The hard-out ones can break even. Now only the guys who are doing it right can survive. If you do it wrong you're out of the industry," Mr Kenton (57) says.
Mr Smith estimates he spends four days a week fishing and one day doing his books and maintenance on his boat and nets.
It is not a cheap game to join. A secondhand fishing boat costs about $150,000.
"But you get your quota first and your boat second. It costs $275,000 a tonne for crayfish quota and about $14,000 a tonne for flatfish.
"If you're good you can average between $40 and $48 a kilo for crayfish. We trawl for half a year and crayfish a bit less than half a year," Mr Smith says.
"The cray season can start as early as June the 20th, but the fish are bigger in August ... I love crayfishing. It's more competitive.
"Seeing a pot of crayfish coming up is really nice. But by the end of crayfishing you're keen to go trawling again."
The Aurora is 53 years old.
"They don't make 'em like this any more. She's all kauri," Mr Kenton says.
He should know. The boat was built by his father John and grandfather Jim.
"It was built at Rocky Point [just past Careys Bay]. I was 17 when I started fishing and it's been mostly on this boat. I wasn't allowed to go fishing till I could make a net. Otherwise, I'd have been fishing at 15.
"It's the first boat I ever worked on. When I owned it, Ant used to work for me. It's my home.
"The machinery has made things a lot easier," Mr Kenton says, gesturing towards the big net winch.
"When I started, we pulled them up by hand. Now that was hard work."
Change has been a constant in the boat-building industry.
"There were 18 boat-builders at [Port Chalmers company] Miller and Tunnage eight years ago. There's only one there now. There are no new boats getting built any more," Mr Kenton says.
"It would cost $500,000 to build this [Aurora] now. It also affects other industries, like local engineers and electricians."
Mr Kenton has some good yarns about his time at sea.
A former co-op secretary, Alan Hughes, once had his boat, Caroline, dragged backwards at a rate of six knots while trawling off the Heads, Mr Kenton says.
"At first they thought they might have netted a whale, but he was going backwards so fast that he reckoned it must have been a submarine," he says chuckling.
"That would be the strangest thing I've heard of. Although David Olsen towed up a military ordnance off Brighton a while back.
"You see a few whales. There was a pod of orcas out here six weeks ago. We saw them off Karitane and they were going down and feeding on something, then coming back up again.
"Something came up to the surface, so we picked it up and gave it to the Portobello aquarium and they later said it was a whale shark liver."
But fishing for these boys is also a serious business.
"The frustrating thing about fishing is that when it's good you can't go for it anymore because of the quota. Yet there's as much fish around now as there's ever been," Mr Smith says.
"Here the weather looks after the fishery. In Nelson, where it's warmer, they'll go out on a Sunday night and fish all week."
It's in fisherfolk's interests to have a care for the sustainability of fish stocks and these two are no exception.
So while they're pleased with the quota system, they're disappointed it hasn't been followed up by the Government.
"The fishery itself is as buoyant as it's ever been. The quota system has worked. The downside is that the only people that can afford quota are the companies. Originally, one individual could only own 20% of quota, but they [the Government] changed all that.
"We've got to fill out logbooks and say how much we caught and when," Mr Smith says.
"One day they'll come and take a look at that information, but we're two years down the track and they haven't been down yet.
"We thought it was quite a good idea, but we thought it was always going to be looked at," Mr Kenton says.
"But they haven't looked at it in two years. I just don't figure that one."
I ask Mr Smith if he'd do it all again if he could go back and he carefully considers his answer.
"Yeah, I'd go back, although I'd do things a bit differently. If I had it all again, I'd stay a crew and, perhaps, start at an earlier age," he says.
"It's hard work, but I've never done a job that gives you so much satisfaction.
"You can turn your phone off and you're out on your own. It's still a really good career. If you want to work hard you can make good money."
Port Chalmers author and maritime historian Ian Church has written a book with retired fisherman Jack Grennell, A Fisherman Looks Back, to mark the centenary of the Port Chalmers Fishermen's Co-op.
A brief history
Maori were the first fishers in New Zealand, harvesting fish and shellfish for protein.
Early European sailors brought alternative sources of protein, pigs, sheep and cattle, so those who followed initially saw little need to fish.
Many British migrants were reluctant to eat fish because they considered it fit only for poor people.
They were also unfamiliar with New Zealand's fish species and named many of the fish they found after what they knew - cod, mullet and herring.
In the South Island, small craft worked inshore fisheries such as Otago Harbour, meeting what demand there was in the growing city of Dunedin.
Small-scale family operations dominated the fishing scene for decades.
Prior to refrigeration, fish-curing sheds and smokehouses were built at small ports around the coast.
Otherwise fish had to be distributed quickly, before it spoiled.
Fish hawkers would take fish into towns on horse-drawn carts and sell it door-to-door.
Once ice could be made, fish was displayed in shop windows.
Refrigeration allowed the first consignment of frozen fish to be exported (about 16 tonnes) to Sydney in 1890.
The development of rail services was also significant.
It proved important for port towns such as Oamaru, which could send its fish to Dunedin and Christchurch.
It was not until the 1930s that refrigerated space became widely available, allowing the small export industry to develop.
It was still not straightforward as different fish species needed different cool or freezing conditions to maintain their quality and it took time for this knowledge to develop.
Until World War 2, the New Zealand fishery consisted of little fleets of small vessels.
Boats were owner-operated and supplied local markets, with exports a minor part of the industry.
Question of quota
The New Zealand Quota Management System (NZQMS) has become an international model for fisheries since it was introduced in October 1986.
New Zealand fishing stocks had plummeted after years of abuse when anyone who had a licence and complied with regulations was allowed to catch fish.
Since the 1960s, New Zealand waters had also been exploited by foreign trawlers from Russia, Taiwan, South Korea and Japan.
Too many boats were chasing too few fish.
By the early 1980s, many inshore fisheries, such as east coast snapper, were in serious trouble.
The NZQMS sets a certain level of catch each year, with increases or reductions according to the state of the fish stocks.
The New Zealand Ministry of Fisheries annually sets the Total Allowable Commercial Catch (Tacc) for the upcoming fishing season.
The Tacc is based on annual stock assessments of New Zealand fisheries, catch monitoring and details of landed catch.
Only New Zealanders or New Zealand-owned companies can own fishing quota in New Zealand, although quota-holders can lease foreign vessels to catch their allowance.
The quota system was not universally popular when it was introduced, but export revenue from fishing has subsequently increased seven-fold.
The downside has been that the NZQSM concentrates market power in the hands of the big players and is leading to the extinction of owner-operator fishers.
"In the future, I believe most fishers will be contractors working for large companies," former Minister of Fisheries Jim Anderton says.
The gold rush
In the 1980s, when the orange roughy fishery was established, scientists knew little about the species.
The deep-water fish appeared to be a limitless resource.
On one occasion 54 tonnes were caught in only 20 minutes of trawling But a typical orange roughy is at least 50 to 60 years old and can live up to 150 years.
Its longevity and slow rate of breeding means that only small numbers can be harvested without affecting the size of the population.
Huge catches were taken in the 1980s and it couldn't last.
The harvest peaked in 1989 at 54,000 tonnes, and has been in decline ever since.
"For all its strengths, the quota management system has not prevented some notable management failures," former Fisheries Minister Jim Anderton has admitted.
"Such as in orange roughy, where the science suggests that we haven't been cautious enough and stocks continue to decline."
Landmarks
> Boiler Point was the site of a cave known to Kai Tahu as Te Ana O te Makau (The cave of the ebb tide). The point was cut through for the road in 1873. Boats were built there from 1941 until 1984.
They supplied New Zealand and Australia with smoked fish, such as ling, moki and blue and red cod. It is now the site of boat-builders Miller and Tunnage.
> "The Cattle Track" was originally the only access between Careys Bay and Port Chalmers before the road was formed along the harbour-side.
Sheep and cattle were landed in the bay and driven up the Cattle Track to Harbour Tce, along the path over the hill to Port Chalmers and on to the Dalkeith saleyards.
> Careys Bay was previously known as Mansford Township, after the first settler, William Henning Mansford, who arrived in 1848 and left in 1856.
It was later changed to Careys Bay after David Carey, a Waikouaiti settler who lived in the bay from 1849.
> The Crescent Hotel (now Historic Careys Bay Hotel) was built in 1874 from Port Chalmers bluestone.
The general store sat alongside the hotel from the late 1890s till the mid-1980s.
> The Isbister Patent Slip, on which vessels up to 400 tons were built and repaired, was patented by William Isbister in 1863-1864.
The Otago Harbour Board continued to use the slip until 1916 when it was closed.
Its remains are still discernable at low tide near Athfields Point.
