When Captain James Cook dropped anchor in Paepae-o-Tū on his first voyage of discovery to New Zealand in 1769, he quickly realised what an abundant fishery he was parked above.
His crew set about harvesting some of the local snapper population as an alternative to the salted meat diet they had survived on during their passage down under.
Cook was so impressed with the catch he named the area Bream Bay, guarded by Bream Head to the north and Bream Tail to the south.
Depending on whose history you read, Māori set out from either Hawaiki a thousand years ago or east Polynesia in the 13th century and had set up home in and around Bream Bay because of its abundance and good climate.
In the wider bay and associated harbours and estuaries, there were shellfish aplenty, crayfish, flounder, kina, whitebait, and an extensive range of fish from humble baitfish, kahawai, snapper, kingfish, and hāpuku through to schools of skipjack and sometimes bigger game – sharks and billfish. Bream Bay was alive with tucker, the fishery being at virgin biomass with little extraction to change the situation.
The rest, as they say, is history.
Bream Tail with Bream Head in the distance.
Mechanised fishing has spelled the demise of fish stocks worldwide, and New Zealand, including Bream Bay, is no different.
This is clearly documented in the book Hooked – the Story of the NZ Fishing Industry written by the late David Johnson and Jenny Haworth. According to the back cover, it “tells the story of practical people who have searched for better ways to rig their gear, hone their hunting skills and devise clever ways of getting top-quality fish from sea to table.”
It is a good read and offers an honest assessment of the demise of our fisheries.
Combine this with the demands of a growing population, pollution, and climate change, and you have a recipe for disaster in the moana.
It was late spring a decade or so ago when I undertook a charter boat review for this magazine aboard Spot X, a then Marsden Cove-based operation. We didn’t have to travel far, enjoying the great fishing along Bream Bay between Ruakaka and Uretiti. Heading back to base we saw a ‘pillie boat’ working just off the power station, some reasonable kingfish being scooped up along with the baitfish.
Hoping for a kingfish or two to round out the day, I hooked into something that initially felt like a good snapper, with a decent thump to its tail. To my and the crew’s surprise, I had hooked into a ‘pup’ groper (hāpuku) which was landed and weighed, tipping the scales at just under 5kg.
Most were surprised at the catch, but one who was not was Lionel Sands whose family holidays at Urquharts Bay, just inside the entrance to Whangārei Harbour. Lionel, a boatbuilder by trade, has fished the region extensively, including a stint commercial fishing with his late father Sandy.
“Before the family ever thought of buying land and building a holiday home, Sandy camped there in the 1920s as a kid.”
They lived at Whangārei where Sandy went to school until age 12 when he began working as a cook and cabin boy aboard the coastal scows working between Bream Bay and Auckland, carting fireclay and sand which was loaded and offloaded by hand in wheelbarrows.
“He finished on the scows and went commercial fishing out of Whangārei in a clinker-built, sail-powered mullet boat. They were longlining, fishing two shots of 500 hooks, all baited, set, and retrieved by hand."
Lionel says his dad had many tales of catching hāpuku on handlines and didn’t have to go very far to find them.
Lionel Sands says his dad had many tales of catching hāpuku on handlines and didn't have to go very far to find them. Photo: Lionel Sands
“There is a rock known as ‘Ace’ about halfway from Bream Head to the Chicks and that was a good place to target ‘puka as well as pot for crayfish. Dad says one of their best days was around the Tara Rocks at the western end of Lady Ellis Island where they were ‘sight-fishing’ for hāpuku.
“The water was crystal clear, and they would drop a bait in front of the fish they wanted.
“Sandy’s share on one of the more productive trips was 50 pound in old money, which was enough to give him a stake in Shipbuilders who had a yard where Orams is located today.
“He would frequently get hāpuku at Bream Head over the foul which in late summer would also be loaded with tarakihi.”
The war intervened and Sandy was serving in Crete when it was overrun and he was taken prisoner, spending the remainder of the war in a camp in Poland.
”Dad says it was the memories of those great days fishing in Bream Bay that gave him hope, and where there is hope there is life.”
“Dad was a bit of a fish whisperer. While he relied on landmarks to find his favourite spots, he was a great one for looking for signs. These might have been just a couple of birds sitting on the water or a current line, but he had the patience to make these work for him.”
Getting to the Hen and Chicks was always a big undertaking, especially in the mullet boats.
“We didn’t always need to go so far, the harbour was a great producer. I can recall fishing with Dad in and around the mangroves, the snapper with their tails out of the water as they fed in the shallows.”
Mullet was a favourite bait due to its oily nature but the fishermen of the time also used kahawai and trevally because they too were readily available.
“When Dad was targeting ‘puka, he was sometimes plagued by snapper in midwater which on other trips he would turn to his advantage.
“He was onto something back then, and it is interesting that today we target these midwater fish using these ‘newfangled’ softbaits and jigs.”
Many of the spots Lionel fishes today have been handed down as simple landmarks and then refined with the use of sounders and GPS. While he does use lures, he takes a leaf from his father’s book, generally fishing cut baits relatively close to home.
The writer with a 'pup' hāpuku taken in shallow water next to working gannets.
“Piper is my favourite when I can catch them. They were once prolific in Urquharts Bay, but it is becoming harder and harder to get them thanks to increased pressure, especially by the commercial netters.”
The Bream Bay/Whangārei region has been a prolific fishery for much of Lionel’s lifetime and he has gradually seen a decline to the point where some kaimoana is now off the menu.
The scallops in his home bay are a prime example, as are the shellfish on the likes of Mair Bank. Both are off-limits to extraction in the hope the stocks will regenerate.
“In the 1950s we would get scallops by going down to the water’s edge and using a scoop on the end of a long pole to get all the delicacy we needed.
“Similarly, scallops could be picked up close to the shore in Smugglers Cove, just over the hill from the bach.”
And as to the cause of the fishery’s demise, Lionel says its health has steadily declined starting in the 1960s.
“While it would be simple to blame commercial pressure, there are other factors including pollution and recreational take. Once you had to rely on landmarks to go back to that favourite reef or patch of foul, but now modern electronics enable you to find it precisely every time.
“Social media also makes it easy to find where the fish are hanging out, especially when the current action is pinpointed in real-time. You don’t have to be a great angler to find fish now, social media shows you exactly where to go, taking any guesswork out of it – we have all become instant experts.
For Paula Alexander (Ngāti Wai), Bream Bay for many years fed her and her Waipu family when the home cupboard was bare.
“We were a humble family with a historical connection to Bream Bay,” Paula says.
“Growing up, if we wanted food we went and collected it. Paua, crayfish, mussels, and shellfish were gathered by hand, and with a little bit of extra effort we supplemented the above with fish caught off the beach or the rocks,” Paula recalls.
“We were very grateful for what Tangaroa made available and only ever took what we could eat – seafood was our food.
“We never went into the water for a swim just for the sake of it, it was always as part of food gathering.”
Paula’s mum never liked the water and she made her children run the net out when fishing in the nearby lagoon, regardless of the season.
The Mangawhai estuary is a family-friendly fishing spot.
Paula says the snapper were at times so thick that if you were quick enough you could catch them by hand. They were times of plenty and Tangaroa was a great provider.
“We always had plenty of crayfish growing up. I remember swapping my crayfish sandwiches with a teacher for their jam ones – we never had jam, but there was no shortage of crays.”
A keen surfer as well as a fisher, Paula says the sea is a spiritual place and one where she connects with her tupuna.
“If I am having a crappy day for whatever reason, I take my surfboard of surfcaster and a couple of hours among the waves and on the beach has a soothing effect. I leave feeling stress free, even if I haven’t caught anything.”
Being a surfer has taught Paula how to read a beach – the same rips and gutters that board riders use to get out quickly to the breakers are the same ones fish feed in.
Paula shares her love of the beach with her partner Kadin Williams, who runs a one-man tackle repair workshop from his parent’s place at Waipu Cove.
“While fishing is more of a sport to me, I have a passion for landbased angling, and it is something Paula and I can share at little expense as well as putting food on the table.”
He says surfcasting has few barriers to participation. You don’t need an especially expensive rod and reel, or a box full of tackle, making it accessible to everyone.
“You don’t have the bigger fuel costs as you do running and towing a boat and if you are really smart you can gather or catch your own bait. We reckon we can catch a feed for family and friends for around six bucks. Living within walking distance of the beach also helps,” Kadin says.
One of his favourite spots is the southern side of the Waipu Rivermouth.
Ideally, there will be 0.8 of a metre or more of surf running, enough to stir up the bottom.
“I am happy to fish in surf up to 2.5-3 metres. You will be surprised to see just how good the fishing can be in rough conditions. When it is like this the smell of such oily baits as mullet gets carried further. I like to use the pulley rig that helps get the bait out there further.”
Snapper and gurnard are his target species and he also likes to fish for trevally, using the latest technology found in the ‘artificial’ Fishbites baits.
Occasionally he and Paula will fish from their small alloy trailerboat, but their preference is to surfcast.
Paula is worried about the state of the local fishery, especially the demise of shellfish and crayfish stocks.
“It is hard to find mussels on the reef or tuatuas of the beach and cockles in the estuary. People should be taking what they want for a decent feed and leaving the rest to grow.
“I feel guilty when I occasionally land a decent snapper, recognising that it is these bigger specimens that are the breeding stock. I always put these fish back.”
One of the biggest concerns for Bream Bay residents is the pressure the fishery comes under, especially from former Hauraki Gulf anglers who struggle to catch fish and gather kaimoana in their traditional waters.
Those who have escaped the hustle and bustle of Auckland for the relaxed coastal lifestyle are left reeling as large numbers of southern anglers infiltrate the waters of the quiet Northern coastal communities. So why are people driving an hour north to fish?
LegaSea spokesperson Sam Woolford says the answer is simple – because they can't catch fish in their backyard and with the northern expressway extension now open it is less than a 90-minute drive from Auckland’s harbour bridge to get to the likes of Mangawhai, Langs Beach, Waipu Cove, and Marsden Point.
More and more Hauraki Gulf anglers, disgruntled with the quality of fishing closer to Auckland, are journeying north to fish the Bream Bay area.
There is (mostly) better parking, beaches (some) you can drive to your favourite surfcasting spot on, and no rush-hour traffic to negotiate.
Sam says this transfer of fishing pressure is a symptom of a failing Quota Management System that is no longer fit for purpose.
“Our precious Hauraki Gulf is currently dealing with declining biodiversity, fish abundance, and water quality. It’s no surprise that we are finding it harder to catch or gather kaimoana to share with our families and friends.
“So to address these concerns the government is going to enact the Hauraki Gulf/Tīkapa Moana Marine Protection Bill and establish 12 new high protection areas (HPAs). Our key concern with this tactic is that fishing pressure will increase in areas such as Bream Bay that are already feeling the heat.”
Sam suggests that in the meantime, purse seiners are busy mopping up the last of the blue and jack mackerel populations between Tutukaka and Tauranga.
“There is a 10,000-tonne commercial allowance for jack mackerel between North Cape and East Cape (JMA 1), yet due to over-allocation they can only catch 33% of this.
“To make matters worse there has been no scientific assessment of baitfish population levels, officials are essentially managing this important fishery blindfolded, with no true or reliable information on how the stock is doing.
“The loss of these key baitfish species coupled with increasing pressure will take us further down the doom loop we are already in. Spatial management is useless without decreasing the amount of fish commercially harvested.”
Sam says the government is quick to say they will apply this approach to managing our fisheries but the excessive harvesting of baitfish makes this statement farcical.
“Ten years ago, stakeholders from varying sectors came together concerned about the health of the Hauraki Gulf and agreed on an integrated management approach using fisheries management tools alongside special management areas. A decade later and all we have to show for it is a handful of areas that restrict families from gathering fresh kai moana.”
Throughout this process LegaSea stringently argued that the Hauraki Gulf Marine Park needed to be its own fisheries management area so appropriate commercial catch limits could be set.
“We used issues like displacement and the unique pressures of being on the doorstep of New Zealand's biggest city as reasons for it to be managed differently. Yet we were consistently told it was ‘unfeasible’ or ‘too expensive’. Now we have snapper that are starving, a scallop fishery shut indefinitely, and who has seen a hāpuku, john dory or a mussel recently?
“There is no simple answer as to why recreational fishers are having to head up north to catch a feed. Maybe it's here they can find the world-leading quota management system we are constantly reminded of?”
Researching this article and talking with those well-versed in the Bream Bay fishery, it is patently obvious something needs to be done urgently on a few fronts.
Creating marine reserves and Highly Protected Areas is not the answer. Places like the Mokohinau Islands, just one of the key recreational fishing areas nominated for HPA status, look after themselves. They are 30 miles plus offshore and subject at times to unsuitable boating conditions, which is a protection in itself.
Closing them down after barely paying lip service to recreational interests is only going to put increased pressure on parts of Great Barrier, the Mercury group, and Bream Bay’s own Hen and Chicken Islands.
The Hauraki Gulf/Tīkapa Moana Marine Protection Bill is considered by many to be just another packet of band-aids, an ineffective piece of legislation to deal with a festering wound. More of the same old, same old ‘solutions’.
In more recent times we have our snapper afflicted with milky flesh and ‘zombie fish’ conditions, neither of which have yet to be adequately explained by the scientists.
Bream Bay Fishing Facebook page host Shane Peebles has been investigating the stomach contents of his catches and has asked followers to do the same. Initial results indicate that the large majority of Bream Bay caught snapper have little or nothing in their gut – a worrying trend.
Having some control over the harvest of our baitfish would be good. A couple of years ago we had the purse seiners just off McGregor’s Rock, Bream Tail, hoovering up the likes of the jack mackerel and blue mackerel schools. That area had been fishing well until the seiners turned up – it was all over in the space of a few days. Take away the baitfish and you remove the reason for the predators we all seek being there.
Bream Bay is a popular area for the commercial extraction of pilchards.
Personally, I would put a stop on the commercial targeting of our baitfish within 12 miles of the coast for at least a season or until the sustainability issues can be fully researched.
The recreational pain would be the loss of New Zealand pilchards from the bait shop freezers for 12 months, which would be tough. The gain would be a better understanding of an important fishery, including its long-term survival. Add to that the creation of a stand-alone Bream Bay fisheries management area and you will have taken a small step to ensure the future of the fishery.
Grant Dixon served three decades at the helm of NZ Fishing News, retiring in January. He and his wife Faith now live in Mangawhai, having been an annual siteholder at Camp Waipu Cove for some 25 years.
August 2024 - Grant Dixon
New Zealand Fishing News Magazine.
Copyright: NZ Fishing Media Ltd.
Re-publishing elsewhere is prohibited
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