Cornish fishermen fear catch in Brexit talks

Fishermen from the Cornish port of Newlyn were among the most spirited Brexiters.

Days before Britain’s 2016 EU referendum, some sailed more than 300 miles from England’s westernmost reaches to join a pro-Brexit flotilla on the Thames — their presence intended as a visceral reminder of working people hard done by the EU’s overweening regulation.

Soon they will find out whether it was all worth it.

As Britain tries to negotiate a two-year transition agreement with Brussels that is supposed to provide a smooth path for industry after the country leaves the EU next year, its fishermen fear they may be getting a raw deal.

The arrangement proposed by Brussels would leave the UK in the EU’s common fisheries policy for at least the next two years but without a seat at the table to defend its interests in crucial negotiations. Its fishermen say they would be at the whim of rivals from France and Spain, for example, when it comes time to divvy up catch quotas and agree regulations.

“They would absolutely rip us to shreds. It would be insane,” said David Stevens, a skipper based in Newlyn, a Cornish fishing village that hugs the coast next to Penzance. Like other British fishermen, he is demanding that Prime Minister Theresa May instead reclaim the country’s territorial waters on Brexit day in March 2019 — or face the consequences.

“It’s something that will never be forgotten,” Mr Stevens warned as he and his father took a break from repairing their 20-metre trawler, the Crystal Sea. “We don’t want to be betrayed again. We’ve waited for this opportunity to come for years.”

To British fishermen, their treatment is a broad measure of Mrs May’s resolve — or lack thereof — to defend the nation’s interests as Brexit proceeds.

“People are looking for fishermen to get a good deal from Brexit,” Mike Park, a former skipper who is now head of the Scottish White Fish Producers Association, explained. “If [we’ve] been sold down the river . . . that doesn’t bode well.”

Because of the richness of Britain’s waters, fishing is one of the few sectors where the UK holds leverage over the EU. Some 58 per cent of the fish caught in waters around Britain last year went to EU boats, according to a report by the Scottish Fishermen’s Federation. The EU is determined to maintain access.

So far, the government’s rhetoric sounds promising for Britain’s fishermen. George Eustice, the fishing minister and a Cornwall MP, has repeatedly pledged his support as has Brexit-supporting environment secretary Michael Gove. Fishermen are quick to point out Mrs May’s narrow majority in parliament, and the vital support she won from coastal communities in England and Scotland during last year’s general election.

The fear is that as talks intensify she will be tempted to sacrifice fishing, which accounts for less than 1 per cent of the UK economy, to secure concessions for bigger industries such as financial services or pharmaceuticals.

British fishermen have been here before. When the UK joined the EU in 1973, then-prime minister Edward Heath allowed EU vessels into British waters in a late concession to seal the deal. It is an event that the fishermen now recall with fury.

“We gave it all away!” Mr Stevens’ father, David senior, fumed.

The consequences of Mr Heath’s decision were not immediately apparent. But they became evident over the next decade as the EU devised an all-important formula to divide the fish catch among its members.

The UK, the South West in particular, was a big loser. In the area around Cornwall, for example, it holds just 8 per cent of the annual cod quota while France claims 73 per cent. Quotas began to bite for Newlyn’s fleet in the 1990s as the EU limited overall catches to try to curb overfishing.

“If you were kind, the French defended their interests very well,” said Paul Trebilcock, head of the Cornish Fish Producers Organisation, whose office overlooks Newlyn’s harbour. “Or, another way is, they did cheat and stole from the UK and we’ve suffered ever since.”

Brussels has promised to accommodate the UK during the transition period even if it will no longer have a formal say in the all-important December fisheries council, an annual gathering where quotas are carved up.

Yet the distrust is such that many British fishermen are convinced their rivals would use their power to punish them as vengeance for Brexit or simply because that is the nature of fishing. Mr Park called it “almost a nightmarish scenario” for his constituents in Scotland.

Cornish fishermen such as Mr Stevens, who operate in a mixed fishery, believe they would be particularly vulnerable.

At present, his nets are filling with haddock alongside dozens of other species, including plaice, turbot and monkfish. Because the UK has such a small haddock quota in the waters around Cornwall, he ends up throwing the excess overboard to comply with EU rules. But next year, an EU “discard” ban will be extended to include haddock. Unless adjustments are made, boats like the Crystal Sea will have to stop fishing altogether as soon as they reach their haddock quota. The Cornish fleet could be forced to tie up, he warned.

“The turkeys have voted for Christmas,” said a netmaker on the quay who was a rare Newlynite to oppose Brexit. With a wink, he said his name was Fyodor, and then confessed his habit of reading Dostoyevsky novels while at sea.

Some Brexiters also confessed misgivings. “Personally, I voted to leave but even I’ve had some wobbles,” said John Hawken, who was cleaning and stacking crates at Newlyn’s fish market.

Did he trust the government to stand by its fishermen, he was asked? Mr Hawken gazed at the harbour. “The feeling is it’s all very, very uncertain.”