Wormed Out

Sherry Taylor, co-owner of SherryJo's Custom Baits, said her bloodworm orders have fallen 20 percent this year in Delaware, Maryland and Virginia.

But there are still plenty of purists who stick by the wriggly worm.

Boomer Afahringer, 70, has been chartering fishing trips off Delaware's coast for 20 years. He doesn't trust Fishbites, dismissing them as a fad.

On a recent morning, however, just as the charter boat was leaving the dock with a cargo of a dozen drowsy teenagers, Brian Wazlavek, the owner's mate, pointed to several packs of the pinkish strips stuffed in his tackle box.

"I never leave without 'em," he said with a chuckle. "After all, these kids want to catch something."

It's unclear whether the old-school anglers who cling to the worm will be enough to sustain Maine's bloodworm industry, which brought in $6 million in 2005, down from $7.5 million in 2004. About 1,000 independent diggers spend mornings bent over, knee-deep in mud, following the tides in search of the dwindling supply of bloodworms.

Diggers are still eager to do the back-breaking work because the worms, though small, fetch a competitive price. As cheaper alternatives creep in, though, some could find themselves out of work.

"People live off the land and off the water," said Stetson Everett, who's owned Eastern Sea Worm Co. in Hancock, Maine, for 40 years. His diggers range from teenagers to 80-year-olds who rely on the seasonal work for survival. "Getting up with the tides is a lifestyle that's been around for centuries. It just won't be like it was before."

Fishbites, on the other hand, require only machines. At a small production plant in St. Augustine, Fla., several pumps crank out long strips of the gel onto a conveyer belt before going through a series of drying, cutting and bagging machines. Until last year, Carr, along with his son-in-law Terry Dillinger, mixed the chemicals and squeezed the gel on the fabric by hand in a cramped, 180-square-foot laboratory. The company now has 22 employees.

Fishbites may give bloodworms the rest they need to make a rebound on the bait market, but the industry will probably shrink in the meantime, said Les Watling, a professor of oceanography at the University of Maine.

"If it's proven that these alternatives will do just as well, it will eventually put the worm diggers out of business," he said.

Worms aside, the new technologies have helped lure young people to fishing. Participation in the sport has dropped off since a peak in the mid-1980s. The number of people holding a fishing license rose 2.1 percent last year and is expected to rise again this year, according to the American Sportfishing Association.

"Thirty years ago, you had a lot of fishermen, but there's a generation that's missing," said William Irven, who owns Beaver Bait Co. in Winamac, Ind. "Now I think the kids have come back to it. The young fathers are coming back."

The fancy gadgets improve the odds of a productive fishing trip, keeping impatient youngsters on the water. And getting that generation involved in the outdoors improves future conservation efforts, he said.

"If you go out there and catch a lot of fish, you're apt to go more often," Irven added. "With new technology, having luck the first time has gotten a lot easier."

An alternative to the worn-out worm just might be enough to keep them hooked.