August 8, 2016 โ PETTY HARBOUR, Newfoundland โ Shortly after dawn, Tom Best prodded his rusting boat past the copper-colored cliffs of the continentโs most eastern point, until it was idling over the deep, frigid waters that were once home to the worldโs most bountiful fishing grounds.
The 70-year-old captain, like most other fishermen still working here, is old enough to remember better times. On a recent morning, as he eased up on the throttle and the Motion Bay came to a stop, he signaled to four grizzled men at the stern to cast their lines. Each lowered several specially designed hooks into the dark bay, unspooling their nylon lines by hand, like generations of Newfoundland fishermen before them.
But that way of life ended nearly a quarter century ago. After years of overfishing and damaging changes to the ocean environment, the Canadian government in 1992 banned nearly all commercial fishing of cod, an iconic species even more central to life here than in New England, where the fish stocks are also imperiled.
The demise of the Grand Banks fishery left tens of thousands out of work, desperate, angry, and wondering if the fish, protected by the ban, would ever come back.
Best and his crew werenโt fishing for themselves that day, but helping to seek a long elusive answer to that question. The results were immediate: In seconds, even with unbaited hooks, his men all had caught cod.
And over the course of the next 3ยฝ hours, as puffins swooped overhead and bursts of water shot from the spouts of humpback whales, the men pulled up one fish after another โ an impressive 200 in all. The mix of ages โ from young to mature fish more than 3 feet long โ suggested a healthy population.
โSure is reassuring to see,โ said Best, who has been fishing in these waters since he was 8 and serves as president of the local fishermenโs cooperative, which has lost more than a third of its members since the moratorium took effect. โItโs getting there.โ