Do We Need Saltwater Licenses?

Mark Robson, the Florida Fish and Wildlife Conservation Commission's marine fisheries director, reports that saltwater licenses are now bringing in $15 million a year, of which, by law, 32.5 percent goes for research and management; 30 percent for fisheries enhancement; 30 percent for law enforcement, and 7.5 percent for administration, education and outreach. The state's artificial-reef program, which I have had reason to criticize on these pages in the past, is fast improving under strict supervision of three fisheries biologists. The department now spends about $600,000 to partially fund 20 reef projects a year. There is less dependence on construction debris and more on scientifically designed "reef balls."

"In most states fees for saltwater licenses are very nominal," observes Jim Martin, former fisheries chief of the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife and now conservation director of Pure Fishing (a conglomerate of tackle manufacturers). "If fishermen believe they can't spare a little money to win these allocation battles with commercial fishermen and protect habitat, then they're just not paying attention. In Oregon the license protected a lot of our habitat and allowed us to track fisheries [with coded wire tags] so we could get the maximum quotas. If you're not tracking your fishery and you've got endangered salmon mixed in with abundant hatchery salmon, they just close the whole thing down. With saltwater-license revenue we were able to mark stocked smolts so that our ocean fisheries are now almost all on hatchery fish. [If you catch a fish with an adipose fin, you have to release it.] And we used license dollars for hooking-mortality studies so our fisheries could pass muster with [NOAA Fisheries'] endangered-species people."

In North Carolina, and every other state that has legislated a saltwater license, anglers made it happen. In every state without a license anglers are preventing it from happening. Basically, they see the license as another "tax." For example, Jim Donofrio, director of the Recreational Fishing Alliance, has this to say about New Jersey's proposed saltwater license: "Recreational fishermen should not bear the burden of increasing the state budget when we already contribute over $50 million in state sales taxes and over $2 billion to the state's economy overall."

According to the United Boatmen of New Jersey and New York, "a saltwater fishing license is another tax, pure and simple."

"This has shown the recreational fishing community that we really can make a difference," accurately proclaimed Doug MacPherson, legislative chairman of the Rhode Island Charter and Party Boat Association after his outfit led a vicious lobby campaign that defeated a saltwater license in 2003. Unfortunately, the difference wasn't a positive one.

"The Jersey Coast Anglers Association has always been opposed to a saltwater fishing license," writes its legislative chair, Tom Fote. "The recreational fishing community pays a considerable amount of taxes on tackle (regular sales tax plus 10 percent excise tax that goes into the Wallop-Breaux Fund). We also find ourselves taxed in other ways." Then, in the same breath, he complains that New Jersey isn't spending enough money on "marine resources."

Fote has it right when he notes that saltwater anglers already are taxed on tackle and other things (such as gasoline). What he and his allies apparently fail to comprehend is that by blocking saltwater licenses they are throwing away their own tax money and the tax money of all the saltwater anglers they purport to defend. What they're demanding and getting is taxation without representation. Under the Wallop-Breaux amendments to the Sport Fish Restoration Act, about a half-billion dollars are doled out to the states each year. Sixty percent of each state's share is based on the number of licensed anglers, 40 on land and water area. (No state can get more than five percent or less than one percent of available funds.) Under this program states can apply for up to 75 percent federal reimbursement on fisheries projects. So, by refusing to pay for a license, which would cost them roughly what they pay for three or four flies lost to bluefish in a morning, they are ensuring that all taxes they pay on fishing equipment and gasoline benefit everyone but themselves. They are getting nothing back in terms of enhanced enforcement, habitat protection or management; instead they are investing in such projects as Kansas catfish studies.

Northeast anglers fantasize that politicians will snatch their dedicated license revenue and spend it on things like welfare. First, most states have laws against this. Second, the Sport Fish Restoration Act provides powerful incentive against such behavior because it requires states that use license revenue for purposes other than fish and wildlife management or sportsman access to refund current and past federal aid (there's a similar program for hunters).

If you haven't logged onto Reel-Time-the Internet journal of saltwater fly-fishing (www.reel-time.com)-do so because there is always fascinating and civil discourse and you can pick up lots of useful information (like where stripers, blues, tuna and albies are being caught on any particular day). But I get discouraged whenever the subject gets around to saltwater licenses. Citing Massachusetts Governor Mitt Romney's 2003 theft of the Inland Fish and Game Fund, one otherwise thoughtful and informed participant recently wrote: "Politics being politics, I agree with Capt. Ken. Believing license fees are going to be directed to the saltwater fishery is wishful, gullible thinking."

But there's nothing "wishful" or "gullible" about it. The point is this: When Romney attempted to steal inland hunting and fishing license dollars, the US Fish and Wildlife Service informed him that the commonwealth would have to reimburse the feds to the tune of $4.7 million. Moreover, because Massachusetts' inland sportsmen have to buy licenses there's a list of who and where they are. Managers wasted no time telling them about the threat, and through their local clubs, sportsmen were in instant communication. Therefore they were able to lobby the bejesus out of the legislature. Romney never had a chance; he had to restore the Inland Fish and Game fund.