John (JJ) White first learned to fish at age 7 with his Dad in South Africa. As a kid, he liked fishing because it would make his Mum happy, but he only learned the true meaning of being a fisher man after his Dad died when he was fourteen years old.
“My Dad used to treat the fish very well and process them and bring them home and cut them and clean them,” he explains. “I caught a fish soon after my dad died and I brought it home … took it to the kitchen, put it in the sink and said ‘Mum I got you a fish’. She looked at me and said ‘a real fisherman’s going to go and clean it and fillet it, the whole way.’”
From then he began to understand that there was a whole process and cycle to fishing, not just the fish itself. Inspired by ‘The gods must be crazy’, he takes a moment of thanks for every fish he catches.
“Every time I take a fish I think, I’m actually taking a life, but … I still think to survive and live a good quality life you need some protein, so you’ve sort of got to justify it that way,” he says.
Now living in Australia, he has two boats, a shed full of rods, lures, fishing gear and a freezer full of fish. But he doesn’t like fishing anymore. It might sound strange to the average fisher-person but JJ goes fishing for a purpose and it isn’t because it’s fun.
To avoid supporting the commercial fishing industry, which he sees as a threat to the ocean he loves, he catches the fish himself.
“I think it’s very hard for commercial fisheries to demonstrate that they’re sustainable,” he says. “If you were a farmer, and you were selling beef, you would know how many head of cattle you have. If you’re a fisherman and you fish for snapper and you say ‘how many are out there? How many tonnes?’ They don’t know.”
“If the fridge is looking kind of empty and the conditions are looking good, ill plan to go fishing and … make it really efficient,” he says. “[Ill ]go for a short time, use as little resources as I can, catch as many fish as I can, bring them home as quickly as I can, process them, put them away and we’ve got food for the next couple of days.”
Every part of the fish is used. With a garden full of vegetables, chickens and ducks, the scraps are eaten and the carcasses are buried to feed the garden and limit to the need for fertiliser.
JJ even sources his lures sustainably. When the warm waters of summer arrive on the south coast, he waits until after the peak tourist season to dive for lures and clean up tangled fishing line snagged on the rocks; a potential danger for turtles and seabirds.
“I like to know that I’m helping out in someway in terms of cleaning up the ocean. … I’ve lost my fair share of lures so I guess I’m just trying to balance it out as well,” he says with a laugh.
Finding lures also means he doesn’t have support commercial fishing by buying bait. JJ’s isn’t alone in his distaste for the industry either. His opinion is shared throughout many fishing and conservation communities around Australia.
The country saw recent debate about whether the Geelong Star, a Dutch super trawler, should be able to operate in southern waters due to its questionable environmental record. It’s Australian expeditions were ceased after the trawler killed 8 dolphins and 4 seals during It's two operations in Australian Waters.
It’s not only the impact on larger sea life that is concerning. No area of the ocean is unaffected by human impact and 41% is highly affected by multiple human factors. For fishing to be sustainable, the harvesting of the population needs to be done in a way that enables the ecosystem to continue to reproduce at a higher rate and preserve the stock for the future.
But with increasing technology and demand over the late 20th century, the balance is under threat. This can be seen in examples like the town of Gloucester in the United States. Americas first and proud fishing port, now bringing in less than a tenth of its peak yield and relying on imported fish to get by.
For JJ it all comes down to a question of beliefs and how you can or can’t justify your lifestyle. He says ultimately we’re all guilty of a footprint, in some way or another.
“I think catch and release fishing is kinda weird. Putting an animal through a near death experience and then cheering after it’s limping off back into it’s natural habitat,” he says.
“Its interesting because the people that do that would be quite proud that they do it for environmental reasons. But you drive around the whole day with expensive gear, burning fuel with a big boat and all the chemicals that go with boats. You catch the fish bring it in let it go … what have you actually done?”
JJ lives with a degree of guilt himself and believes there’s always more he could do, but the lifestyle he lives has been created with the environment at the forefront of his mind.
‘I take a bit of a footprint on this planet,” he says. “To minimise [my impact] and make things more efficient, that’s the sort of stuff that I’m going through all the time and it does translate into that [environmental] consciousness. It’s a very fulfilling lifestyle.”
“My Dad used to treat the fish very well and process them and bring them home and cut them and clean them,” he explains. “I caught a fish soon after my dad died and I brought it home … took it to the kitchen, put it in the sink and said ‘Mum I got you a fish’. She looked at me and said ‘a real fisherman’s going to go and clean it and fillet it, the whole way.’”
From then he began to understand that there was a whole process and cycle to fishing, not just the fish itself. Inspired by ‘The gods must be crazy’, he takes a moment of thanks for every fish he catches.
“Every time I take a fish I think, I’m actually taking a life, but … I still think to survive and live a good quality life you need some protein, so you’ve sort of got to justify it that way,” he says.
Now living in Australia, he has two boats, a shed full of rods, lures, fishing gear and a freezer full of fish. But he doesn’t like fishing anymore. It might sound strange to the average fisher-person but JJ goes fishing for a purpose and it isn’t because it’s fun.
To avoid supporting the commercial fishing industry, which he sees as a threat to the ocean he loves, he catches the fish himself.
“I think it’s very hard for commercial fisheries to demonstrate that they’re sustainable,” he says. “If you were a farmer, and you were selling beef, you would know how many head of cattle you have. If you’re a fisherman and you fish for snapper and you say ‘how many are out there? How many tonnes?’ They don’t know.”
“If the fridge is looking kind of empty and the conditions are looking good, ill plan to go fishing and … make it really efficient,” he says. “[Ill ]go for a short time, use as little resources as I can, catch as many fish as I can, bring them home as quickly as I can, process them, put them away and we’ve got food for the next couple of days.”
Every part of the fish is used. With a garden full of vegetables, chickens and ducks, the scraps are eaten and the carcasses are buried to feed the garden and limit to the need for fertiliser.
JJ even sources his lures sustainably. When the warm waters of summer arrive on the south coast, he waits until after the peak tourist season to dive for lures and clean up tangled fishing line snagged on the rocks; a potential danger for turtles and seabirds.
“I like to know that I’m helping out in someway in terms of cleaning up the ocean. … I’ve lost my fair share of lures so I guess I’m just trying to balance it out as well,” he says with a laugh.
Finding lures also means he doesn’t have support commercial fishing by buying bait. JJ’s isn’t alone in his distaste for the industry either. His opinion is shared throughout many fishing and conservation communities around Australia.
The country saw recent debate about whether the Geelong Star, a Dutch super trawler, should be able to operate in southern waters due to its questionable environmental record. It’s Australian expeditions were ceased after the trawler killed 8 dolphins and 4 seals during It's two operations in Australian Waters.
It’s not only the impact on larger sea life that is concerning. No area of the ocean is unaffected by human impact and 41% is highly affected by multiple human factors. For fishing to be sustainable, the harvesting of the population needs to be done in a way that enables the ecosystem to continue to reproduce at a higher rate and preserve the stock for the future.
But with increasing technology and demand over the late 20th century, the balance is under threat. This can be seen in examples like the town of Gloucester in the United States. Americas first and proud fishing port, now bringing in less than a tenth of its peak yield and relying on imported fish to get by.
For JJ it all comes down to a question of beliefs and how you can or can’t justify your lifestyle. He says ultimately we’re all guilty of a footprint, in some way or another.
“I think catch and release fishing is kinda weird. Putting an animal through a near death experience and then cheering after it’s limping off back into it’s natural habitat,” he says.
“Its interesting because the people that do that would be quite proud that they do it for environmental reasons. But you drive around the whole day with expensive gear, burning fuel with a big boat and all the chemicals that go with boats. You catch the fish bring it in let it go … what have you actually done?”
JJ lives with a degree of guilt himself and believes there’s always more he could do, but the lifestyle he lives has been created with the environment at the forefront of his mind.
‘I take a bit of a footprint on this planet,” he says. “To minimise [my impact] and make things more efficient, that’s the sort of stuff that I’m going through all the time and it does translate into that [environmental] consciousness. It’s a very fulfilling lifestyle.”