Putting a Price on Rockfish Sends a Mixed Message

The big two-day storm that pummeled Washington last week did an unexpected favor, wiping out my one scheduled fishing trip on the Chesapeake Bay during spring "trophy" rockfish season.

We were supposed to go trolling with Capt. Randy Dean out of Chesapeake Beach on Monday. He's a good fisherman, and rock remained plentiful late in the spring. No doubt we'd have caught some, putting me in a familiar and uncomfortable position: Did I really want to kill a fat, roe-laden female headed for spawning? If not, why go at all?

I used to look forward to the month-long trophy season, which ended on Tuesday. I was not alone. Over the years, Maryland's spring season has grown longer, more productive and ever more popular.

These days, charter skippers often run two trips a day to answer all the requests for bookings, filling their one-big-fish-per-person limits twice, and weekend tournaments boom. The Maryland Saltwater Sportfishermen's Association tournament this year drew 650 boats, for example, with the winner taking almost $90,000 for a 42-pound rock.

The whole thing has developed a gold-rush aura that I don't like. Aren't these the very fish we should protect, the ones returning from the sea to renew our favorite sport species, Maryland's state fish? Why target them so aggressively? Why put a $90,000 price on their heads?

In fairness, we were not denied the pleasure of a spring rockfish dinner. On Mother's Day, son Will lugged down two huge filets he'd caught on a business charter with his mates at Under Armour in Baltimore, where he works. Ten anglers caught 20-odd big rock on the outing in late April, keeping the 10 biggest.

He stuck his two filets in the freezer and called home for advice. "What should I do?" he asked. "We can't eat all this."

Such is the probable fate of many big spring rock caught by novices, cleaned by professionals at the dock, then dropped into deep-freezes to molder for a year or two, after which they often get dumped.

We thawed the thick slabs, which came from at least a 30-pounder, cut them into approachable chunks, then made a dressing of diced tomatoes, shallots, garlic, olive oil, red wine, basil, salt and pepper, covered the fish with the mix and baked at 375 degrees for about 20 minutes.

It fed eight with several pounds left over and was good eating. Big rockfish are a bit rubbery, not as tender as smaller ones, but fresh, snow-white rock is always delicious and this was almost fresh. At least that one didn't go to waste. Who knows about the other nine?

Tens of thousands of big, spawning rockfish are taken this way every spring by Maryland anglers, but it wasn't always the case. Thirty-odd years ago, when I started fishing the bay, Department of Natural Resources rules protected all fish over32 inches until May 15, when spawning is about over, to let the big fish get to the spawning grounds unimpeded. Today it's just the opposite: Anglers may not keep fish under 28 inches until May 16. They can only keep big ones.

Why change philosophies and target the big, roe-laden fish? It's a good question. All I can say is nobody ever drew 650 boats to a little-fish tournament, and charter skippers would have a hard time running two trips a day if they had to throw back big ones and keep the little ones. It's about money. People want big fish.