A solution is underway, and I would advocate that we need to support small-scale crabbers in being a part of it. Pop-up crab traps, a new technology, eliminate any chance of entanglement—a win-win situation for both fishers and whales.
Unlike traditional crab pots, which are constantly tethered to a buoy by unattended lines, these traps are ropeless and use a remote-controlled, acoustic release system to bring traps from the ocean floor to the surface. This experimental gear is currently being tested locally just south of Pigeon Point in California, supported by the conservation group Oceana.
But because this technology is expensive, without financial support small fishers will be left behind as the “big guys” advance. Norton put it plainly: “If they require the parachute traps [pop-up gear], most local fishermen will be choked out.”
The Center for Biological Diversity is petitioning the federal government to require trap fisheries to convert to ropeless gear by 2026. I would like to expand on that petition: the U.S. Department of Commerce must also provide funding to help small-scale fishers—who have already invested tens of thousands of dollars in their traditional equipment— make this transition to whale-safe gear.
Stanley Ross’s boat, the Slam V, heads back to dock at the Sausalito Yacht Harbor. Why the V? Author Ross says, “It’s named for Stanley, Lloyd (my dad), Amanda (my aunt), and Martha (my grandma). It is a 1972 Betram 38 foot. My grandpa bought it as a salvage in the late ’80s; it was partially submerged and he completely restored it.”
As consumers, we can also change how we shop for crab. If we do not want to see a seafood market dominated by corporations with less accountability and care for the ecosystem, we must buy local, seasonal crab from trusted, small-scale fishers.
And we must support restaurants and markets that prioritize sustainable sourcing. The Monterey Bay Aquarium Seafood Watch is a helpful tool for people hoping to be more conscious consumers.
The future of the Bay Area’s crabbing culture depends on our ability to regulate with nuance and balance—recognizing that true ecological stewardship means protecting both marine wildlife and the human communities who live in harmony with them.
After that crab harvest with my grandpa, we sat around the dinner table with my family, cracking into the shells and slurping out every last succulent morsel. The impressive sight of the whale I had seen that morning was still at the forefront of my mind.
I believe that whales and fishers are not enemies. We are all part of an interconnected web that makes the beautiful, bountiful meal we shared possible.
Ross is an undergraduate student in Liz Carlisle’s course, “Food, Agriculture, and the Environment,” offered this spring at the University of California Santa Barbara. Civil Eats partnered with Carlisle on writing and editing guidance for this story.