Sharked

It's strange what a fish can mean to different people. Some view the fishes of the sea as simple, mindless creatures capable only of instinctual, unfeeling thought, while others consider them to be capable of a greater degree of sentience, perception, and intelligence. In most cases, the justification for the latter argument does not extend evenly across the tens of thousands of species that reside within the globe. Pet Goldfish have long been controversial, with the deeply ingrained image of one living in a small, featureless bowl a subject of ethical debate. Meanwhile, the deeply ingrained image of a neat row of harvested and prepared sardines lining the inside of a metal can is dismissed as merely a food item -despite the species' precarious environmental history and the ecological consequences associated with their rapid decline. While I am against keeping Goldfish in bowls and eat sardines (not prior to any social function), its interesting to examine how fishes often tread that precarious line that gives way to ethical perceptions of more developed animals like birds and mammals. A less abstract and more controversial example of competing viewpoints and ethical dilemmas at work in the ocean involves recreational Shark fishing.

Sharks are reserved a greater degree of stature these days than most other fishes. Despite their history of being feared and maligned, they have gracefully evolved to a status of respect, mystique, and even reverence. There is certainly something otherworldly about them. Although their general form is not too far removed from bony fishes, whenever I've been around Sharks and seen them up close they definitely feel like something different. It's hard to pinpoint exactly where this feeling comes from, almost as if it's reminiscent of something too ancient for us to comprehend. One feeling that isn't hard to pinpoint is pain, which is felt when an angry Shark smacks its sandpaper tail into your shin.

Shark fishing has a variety of ecological and ethical issues. The most attention-grabbing issue pertaining to this is the cruel and wasteful practice of Shark finning, which has become synonymous with not only unsustainability but fishing for Sharks as a whole. Shark finning for soup is a horrible, destructive scam, fueled by false promises of status for the consumer and inflated by greed of the producer. Commercial fishing for Sharks in general is generally frowned upon, even though much ends up in markets as bycatch and from small-scale fishers. Their slow growth and few offspring make it easy to severely reduce a local population with enough contributed angling effort. However, recreational fishing for Sharks seems to be where much of the controversy is falling these days. Although most Sharks caught recreationally are immediately released, with even those kept for food generally harvested in a highly episodic nature, the practice nevertheless (predictably) spawns debate. Most is also done from shore, primarily for the safety of the angler and to alleviate the long periods of inactivity often associated with Shark fishing. This is considerably prevalent involving the capture of large species of Shark, such as the East Coast Tiger and Bull Sharks that adorn social media and YouTube pages. Even though most of the nearshore Sharks here in California are considerably smaller (except for, you know, that one), the practice nevertheless sparks controversy.

The seemingly indefinable connection to sharks that many experience is encapsulated in debates concerning recreational shark angling. Even when the Sharks are released, many take issue. I've done most of my shark fishing in relative solitude or only accompanied by friends, usually in the middle of the night on a remote, empty beach. My reasoning primarily involves the secretive nature of Sharks and their common desire to feed under the cover of darkness, away from the throngs of daytime beachgoers and in an environment in which their unique senses give them an advantage over their prey. However, I also don't like dealing with the inevitable crowds that Sharks draw. Although most people are indifferent or even excited to see one up close, some will voice their disapproval -often loudly. I like to fish to get away from the everyday struggles of humans in an overcrowded, intolerant world, not to prepare to engage in a (loud) discussion with a (loud) aspiring environmental preservationist about how I'm singlehandedly destroying the world's oceans (while the released Shark has already swam to the next county). I know some in the small California Shark fishing community that are either unbothered by the naysayers or enjoy the thrill of verbally sparring with them, but I would rather be left in peace.

I get where they're coming from. It certainly can't be a pleasant experience for a Shark to be hooked, fought, and removed from the water. If improperly done, even a release can result in an exhausted and injured Shark staggering away to die. I've greatly improved my release practices from when I first started, generally limiting time out of the water to less of a minute, keeping them where incoming waves run through their gills if I can, and making sure they swim off strongly, but accidents are liable to happen and some Sharks undoubtedly fare better than others. To be honest, as of writing it's been almost a year since I last targeted Sharks. It can really screw up your sleep schedule. A decent amount of gear needs to be hauled onto the beach, including the heavy casting tackle, large weights, and supply of bait I usually bring when it's not available to be caught at the beach. The fishing is usually slow paced, with long hours between bites. When I started targeting Yellowtail shortly after my most recent Shark excursion, there was only so much waiting for something big to inhale a mackerel on heavy gear that I could take. The gear isn't cheap either; Sharks will destroy most standard fishing gear and a considerable amount of heavy terminal tackle is essential. Since the last Shark I released last spring, I've mostly focused on other targets. However, it's interesting that every time I've harvested and brought ashore a fish like a Yellowtail, Halibut, or Bonito I've received no hassle, no confrontations, and certainly no suggestions on what should be done to me or my anatomy. What's the difference, particularly if the Sharks are gently handled and released and the sportfish are killed to be eaten? Many argue the importance of Sharks within the food chain, but the predatory species above also play important roles. Sharks reproduce slower, but most species exhibit high survival rates when quickly landed, handled, and released. Many even think that choosing to target Sharks is nothing more than a crude, machismo display of testosterone, and that those who do it are compensating for something unmentionable in the same manner as those who choose to drive enormous trucks and spraypaint flames on the sides of their speedboats. Based on some of what I've seen on YouTube and in person, it's hard to argue with this.

That being said, I nevertheless don't think there's anything wrong with responsible shark fishing. Most dedicated Shark anglers I know aren't the bloodthirsty "Captain Quinn" types in it for fame and notoriety. Shark fishermen are simply among the large, growing demographic of people that respects and appreciates these amazing animals of the sea. Shark fishing can be extremely heart-dropping, with hours of monotony punctuated by sudden, screaming clicker runs and stressed drags. One truly appreciates the cunning power of these animals when a larger model is at the end of your line in the surf. Targeting Sharks allows an up-close-and-personal look at creatures that would otherwise be elusive or difficult to safely interact with; many species such as California's Soupfin Sharks are notoriously shy and dislike being approached by divers or photographers. They have every reason to be, as the species has nearly been pushed to extinction twice before successfully rebounding and recovering. It is for this reason that I always release them, except for that one disastrous incident in which I had to harvest a deep-hooked Shark and take it back on the bus to my freshman dorm. I assured everyone present on that gloomy April daybreak that I would eat the entire thing and let none go to waste, but looking back I don't think that was their primary concern. I'm sorry, Kevin! Maybe try seeing a therapist next time before venting your frustrations on Reddit.