In the vast expanse of the Atlantic, where the mighty bluefin tuna once teetered on the brink of extinction, a remarkable story of recovery unfolds. This narrative is not just about the return of a magnificent creature to British waters, but also about the delicate balance between conservation and the art of fishing. As the Angling Trust Head of Marine and sustainable fisheries expert, Hannah Rudd, reflects on this unique catch-and-release fishery, she offers a compelling perspective on the challenges and triumphs of responsible angling.
The bluefin tuna, a true giant of the sea, has made a remarkable comeback in British waters. This recovery is a testament to the hard work and international cooperation that led to a rebuilding plan. However, the real test lies in how we choose to fish these recovered giants. The introduction of mandatory training in 2026 for England's catch-and-release recreational fishery sets a new standard for angler care and responsibility.
Rudd emphasizes the importance of this training, which covers fish welfare, best practices, bycatch mitigation, and legal obligations. She argues that this is not just a formality but a necessary step to ensure the highest standard of care for the bluefin tuna. The training is a result of years of partnership between various organizations, including the Angling Trust, Cefas, Natural England, Defra, and the Marine Management Organisation, and it is shaped by the skippers themselves.
The key to a successful catch-and-release fishery, according to Rudd, is understanding that it is not about causing no harm but about minimizing harm to a few percent. The training and code of conduct aim to hold the harm at the bottom of that range, ensuring that the fish swims away strong. This is a delicate balance, as the post-release mortality rate is a critical figure for the stock, and only tagging can reveal it.
The author highlights the small footprint of the recreational fishery compared to the industrial reality of bluefin fishing in the eastern Atlantic. The true contrast is not between recreation and commerce but between the selective rod-and-line method used by recreational anglers and the industrial fleets that have made bluefin a commodity measured by the tonne. Rudd argues that the recreational fishery is not the pressure point on the bluefin population.
However, the issue of access remains a sore subject. Permits are weighted towards charter vessels, leaving many capable private skippers on the outside looking in. The lottery system for permits, while fair on its face, can be contentious, as it may leave committed skippers ashore while passing others through on luck alone. Rudd acknowledges the frustration but emphasizes the virtue of letting newcomers in, ensuring a fair fishery for all.
Geography is another complication, as spreading access cannot mean funnelling the fleet into a single honeypot port. Balancing fairness between regions and keeping effort sensibly spread is a challenging task. The phased approach of opening the fishery gradually across the quota cycle is the right shape for this question, even if it is cold comfort to those still waiting their turn.
The real test of this fishery, according to Rudd, lies in its ability to keep faith with a recovered species once the novelty fades and the competition sharpens. The work of widening access responsibly, without diluting the standards that make the fishery sustainable, is a hard task ahead. The UK Government has not yet solved this puzzle, and the future of this fishery depends on it.
In conclusion, the story of the bluefin tuna's recovery is a testament to the power of conservation and responsible angling. As Rudd reflects, the conversation about how we share these magnificent creatures is only beginning. The training and code of conduct are the easy part; the hard, unfinished work lies in the balance between two sectors, recreational and commercial, and the fair sharing of access. The future of this fishery depends on our ability to live up to the standards we have set and to share them fairly.
