SKIPPER’S BLOG: The Many Faces of Fisheries

Yesterday we talked about the ridiculous amount of turnover we’ve seen in the Fisheries and Aquaculture Department since the current government took over.

Basically, I took each administration Newfoundland and Labrador has had since Confederation and checked how often each one changed its man — or in the case of Yvonne Jones just a few years ago, woman — in charge of fisheries.

The stats were as follows:

1. Small Wood government, 1949 to 1972 (23 years): five fisheries ministers, translating into an average of 4.6 years per minister.
2. The Moores/Peckford government, 1972 to 1989 (17 years): eight fisheries ministers, for an average of 2.1 years per minister.
3. The Clyde Wells/Brian Tobin/Roger Grimes administration, 1989 to 2003: six fisheries ministers for an average of 2.3 years per minister.
4. And finally, the Danny Williams/Kathy Dunderdale government, 2003 to present: seven fisheries ministers for an average of 1.3 years per minister.

Today, I wanted to start having a look at the recent cast of characters to have led Fisheries and Aquaculture (By the way, I know this may be coincidence, but it’s worth noting that the last four people to hold the position are all former teachers. Take from that what you will.)

We start our ministerial reflections with Trevor Taylor.

Death by RMS - Trevor Taylor

The first fish minister appointed by the current regime on Nov. 3, 2003, was Trevor Taylor and he seemed a good fit for the job. He was from the Northern Peninsula, a fishing rich region, he had worked in the fishery and for the union as a staff representative for the Newfoundland west coast and he was considered a bright light in the party having won a district for the Tories that had been Liberal since Moses went to the top of the mountain.

He was a bonafide bay boy in a city boy suit and seemed to wear both fairly well. In fact, there had once upon a time been whispers that the young and dynamic Taylor might be premier material one day.

It all came crashing down in one fell swoop in 2005 when Taylor announced the three letters that triggered his demise both politically and publicly: RMS, which stood for raw materials sharing. In the case of Taylor’s career, it may as well have stood for “Ready Made Suicide.”

The basis of the plan was that crab (and shrimp) being caught by fishermen would be guaranteed to specific plants adjacent to the resource. Naturally that got fishermen in an uproar because having to sell their product to a specific plant meant they wouldn’t be able to negotiate higher prices or attract the bonuses to which they had become accustomed.

Taylor pitched it as an orderly way to do business. Processors likely saw it as way to ensure they would get raw materials to process. The fishermen saw it as a direct attack on their income and suggested it would cause them to be held hostage by processors.

The result was weeks of massive and varied protests on the grounds of Confederation Building, and a raft of media attention through the shutting down of the provincial legislature, a blockade of Placentia Bay, a blockade of St. John’s harbour, fishermen flying Nova Scotia flags and the enduring image of a crab pot draped over the statue of John Cabot.

The Williams government was forced to blink. The concept was handed over to former FFAW President Richard Cashin for a review, and the recommendation, as anyone might expect, was to scrap the idea permanently — and that’s exactly what happened.

On Nov. 5, 2005, after the dust had settled from that war, Taylor was jettisoned from Fisheries and landed in the much less prolific Innovation, Trade and Rural Development Department.

He served a very quick and quiet five month caretaker term back in Fisheries in 2008 before moving on to the Transportation and Works portfolio. He stepped down from that position when he left provincial politics in 2009.

Taylor would take a crack at federal politics for the Conservatives in the 2011 election, but was handily defeated by incumbent Liberal Gerry Byrne who polled 17,119 votes to Taylor’s 7,559.

He still pops up from time to time as a political analyst on television or in the occasional radio interview, but that’s about all anyone has seen of the once promising political star since he dipped his foot into the fisheries harbour only to discover it was full of hungry sharks anxious for a meal.

Whether or not the RMS approach was the right one or not is still a topic for discussion today. For a good reflective moment, have a look HERE to read what Taylor said the day he announced RMS, it makes for fascinating reflection.

While the merits or drawbacks of RMS can be debated forever, what cannot be argued is that it torpedoed Taylor political ship in devastating fashion. The department's profile began its slip from the center of power within government, and Taylor's own start never again shone brightly.

People close to the NL political machine suggest that the demise and fallout around RMS prompted the government and then-Premier Danny Williams — who clearly was out of his element dealing with fishery issues given his business and legal background —  to start developing a gun-shyness about the industry and subsequently take a more “hands off” approach to fisheries issues.

Next up, we take a look at the man who took over from Taylor: the last true political heavyweight to hold the position, former premier Tom Rideout.