Coastal First Nations want a piece of B.C.’s lucrative geoduck trade, but fishermen say issuing new licences would devalue the industry and the investments they’ve made in developing the giant clam fishery into a multimillion-dollar international business.
Michelle James, executive director of the Underwater Harvesters Association (UHA), said B.C.’s geoduck industry is so tightly controlled that any new licences would cut deeply into the pocketbooks of fishermen whose livelihoods depend on the giant mollusks.
“It dilutes it for everyone … that’s the whole premise behind limited entry, you get people who care about the long-term sustainability of the resources,” James told Business in Vancouver.
Commercial divers harvest geoducks (shown at right) from B.C.’s sandy ocean floor. The catch is then shipped live to buyers in Asia, where the clam is a delicacy.
The Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) regulates the industry so tightly that only 55 commercial fishery licences exist in B.C., a number that hasn’t changed in decades.
Every year, licence holders harvest roughly 3.4 million pounds of geoduck from B.C. waters – approximately 1.8% of the estimated total number of giant mollusks in coastal waters.
Chris Sorensen, a licence holder with Chrijoja Fishing Ltd., has been in the industry for nearly 30 years.
It’s a business that thrives on stability, he said, and a rare example of a B.C. fishery that’s truly lucrative for operators.
“This is bar none the best fishing business probably in North America, maybe one of the best in the world,” Sorensen said. “It’s an example of where Canada excels.”
The average value of a geoduck licence is $3.25 million.
Stz’uminus (Chemainus) Indian Band business development manager Ray Gauthier said the business is so profitable that licence holders rarely leave it.
“This is a guarantee that these guys are going to be successful,” said Gauthier. “So who is going to sell those licences?”
Last summer, the Chemainus blockaded geoduck fishing in Kulleet Bay near their reserve, forcing operators to shut down the fishery.
The UHA and several fishermen later filed suit against the band in B.C. Supreme Court. The suit is seeking an injunction to restrain the Chemainus from interfering with the geoduck harvest.
Gauthier said it was a peaceful protest, but the UHA’s James said it posed a threat to divers who were in the water harvesting geoducks.
“For us, that lawsuit is about safety,” James said.
But Gauthier said the protest was a last resort for the band, which had earlier asked DFO to shut down the commercial fishery in Kulleet Bay because the Chemainus see that area as part of their territory.
The Chemainus want DFO to allow them to buy an aquaculture licence to harvest geoducks in Kulleet Bay.
Gauthier said it’s far less expensive than the fishery licence, but the proposed farm would interfere with the bay’s wild geoduck fishery.
Still, he’s hopeful that DFO will change its mind about issuing new licences because the band sees an opportunity to partner with industry to develop a geoduck farm.
“We want to be in business with them, guess why? Because they have the expertise,” Gauthier said. “We’re not going to be idiots about this; we need them, and they see an opportunity … to guarantee more access to product.”
DFO told BIV it has no plans to issue more licences.
But Ottawa has come up with another way for First Nations to get into the fisheries business.
In 2007, it launched the Pacific Integrated Commercial Fisheries Initiative (PICFI) program. The five-year program allows bands to buy commercial fishing licences from DFO after a private operator has retired or relinquished his or her licence.
Angela Bate, director of special projects with DFO, said 25 First Nations groups representing 95 bands across B.C. are involved in the program.
As of December 31, 2010, PICFI had recorded 314 licence relinquishments, which included everything from halibut and sablefish to prawns and crab.
Noticeably missing from the list, however, was geoducks.
Bate confirmed that no geoduck licences have been relinquished through the program.
Meanwhile, Sorensen believes the government should maintain the number of licences, and First Nations should pay their way if they want to get into the business.
“I don’t care who you are, if I come up to you and say, ‘I want 20% of your income because I felt I was denied an opportunity’ well that’s not the case,” Sorensen said. “Nobody has been denied an opportunity.”
He recalled the early days of geoduck fishing before the quota system was established in 1989. Prior to that, fishermen took a “shotgun” approach and harvested as many geoducks as they could.
Sorensen said as much as 14 million pounds of geoducks were harvested in a single year, with operators pulling in a measly $0.10 per pound.
But then the industry and DFO got together to introduce quotas for each licence, slashing the total allowable catch and allowing the industry to more effectively control the supply.
Today, harvesters are paid roughly $12 a pound.
“Geoducks is a great example of how government and business co-operated to take something … and not only get the highest value for it but also make it probably one of the most sustainable things out there,” Sorensen said. “It’s well balanced. We operate on an extremely conservative level, but we’d be fools not to … the truth is we learned from experience.”
$3.25 million – the average value for a geoduck licence in 2010
55 – the number of licences in B.C.
3.4 million pounds – the total weight of geoducks pulled from B.C. waters every year
$12 – the price fishermen get for a pound of geoduck