Edited Dec. 2
There are days when there’s a bustle on Menemsha’s Dutcher Dock that feels like the commercial fishing industry is alive as ever. Boats like the iconic Martha Rose and Lady M, and smaller, scrappier vessels like the Betty Anne and Little Feat, offload buckets of sea scallops, sea bass, and lobster throughout each season, as people line up for lobster rolls and clams and oysters on the half-shell at Larsen’s and the Menemsha Fish Market daily. But even with honorable efforts to sustain the fishing industry today, there once was a time when this was the reality in every harbor across the Island.
Edgartown Harbor, which initially rose to relevance in the whaling days, used to be chock-full of draggers and schooners; now, most dock access is reserved for a fiberglass fleet. Vineyard Haven and Edgartown hosted seaside fish markets and buyers now gone, and onshore boatbuilders and blacksmiths in the small towns used to support the large commercial industry. No matter whom or how you ask, older fishermen never neglect to mention the years when fish weren’t scarce and regulations weren’t strict.
These days, fishermen face pressures that range from rising costs and stringent regulations to competition from industrial fleets far larger than any vessel tied up to Island docks. There remains the question of how commercial fishing on-Island will survive. Into that moment comes “The Sea Table,” a new cookbook curated by the Martha’s Vineyard Fishermen’s Preservation Trust with Catherine Walthers.
“The Sea Table,” on the surface, is a beautiful collection of seafood recipes. But beneath the iconic photography and curated local recipes, it’s more than just a cookbook; it’s an advocacy project for the centuries-old working waterfront. By profiling fishermen, species, and the labor behind each local catch, the book documents a corner of the Island that’s often taken for granted. The book is about preservation, but also industry, history, and culture. It’s a tribute to the waters that surround this Island in the Atlantic, and the fishermen who humbly work hard to bring seafood to local tables — and it’s a reminder not only of the importance of eating local fish, but understanding that sourcing your fish from Island fishermen can do so much more. It’s a way to preserve a local tradition often threatened by the economics of corporate, global fisheries.
Shelley Edmundson, executive director and founding member of the Fishermen’s Preservation Trust which is based off the dock in Menemsha, said the trust began collecting recipes at their Seafood Collaborative table at the West Tisbury Farmers Market, to show people how to cook fresh fish, especially encouraging the incorporation of nontraditional species. “The binder kept growing and growing, and was becoming a little unruly — sheets everywhere, recipes everywhere,” said Edmundson.
Around the same time, she started to capture the faces of the working waterfront with photographer Brooke Bartletta. “Behind each local fish, there’s a person or a family and someone working hard to go out and harvest that food for them,” said Edmundson. There is also work by many of the Island’s top photographers, and food photography by Randi Baird, throughout the book.
As a need for a combined resource for seafood recipes and fishermen’s stories grew, a state Environmental Economic and Innovation Fund grant for marine fisheries was awarded to the Preservation Trust, which allowed the realization of this resource: “The Sea Table.” The trust recruited Walthers to be the cookbook coordinator, contributing about a third of her own seafood recipes, and collecting others from cookbook writers, chefs, fishermen and community cooks over the course of nine months. Walthers noted that this cookbook is different from her previous ones because of the stories weaved in between the recipes.
The book features 75 recipes curated from Island cooks and fishermen, involving 19 different local species and 21 fishermen. Each book purchase supports the Martha’s Vineyard Fishermen’s Preservation Trust mission to ensure that sea-based culture, livelihood, and food remain strong on the Island.
The Preservation Trust, which recently signed a 99-year lease at the former Poole’s Fish Plant and Chilmark Chandlery on Basin Road to expand operations, works largely behind the scenes, processing and donating seafood, facilitating scientific research, and working one-on-one with fishermen. “This book gives us a chance to communicate why we work hard to help our commercial fishing industry, and it makes it more accessible to everyone,” said Edmundson. “All that together really helps people connect more to what we’re trying to do, and helps them figure out how they can help. Even just choosing a local catch over an imported catch can make the difference in supporting a family here.”
One of the ways the trust works to pursue its mission is by supporting young fishermen to stay in the trade. It’s incredibly expensive to buy a boat, and with the cost of fishing permits on top of that, many are discouraged from joining the industry. The trust wants to make fishing more economically feasible for young adults, and so they’ve established payment plans for young fishermen, who can then purchase permits and pay them off as they fish.
Tegan Gale, the youngest commercial fisherman profiled in “The Sea Table,” and the youngest in the state to have a lobster permit, he said, has fished his entire life. It’s what he knows. Gale began practically at birth; at only 10 days old, he was out on the boat while his father culled lobster pots. He slept in his baby carriage, tucked inside one of the fish totes.
Now, at 19, Gale harvests lobster, oysters, sea bass, bonito, and conch, much of which he does on his own, out of Menemsha Harbor. Gale estimated that he’s put in around $70,000 to join the industry — from gear to permits to boats. “The money is the most difficult part, the initial investment,” which includes funds for boats and permits, Gale said. Meanwhile, as the price of bait and fuel rises, the market price for lobster has remained mostly the same.
Two of Gale’s most recent investments include a $12,000 sea bass permit, which the trust has helped finance, and his new boat, the Solitude, which he bought from another young fisherman, Chris Mayhew of Menemsha. He made his last payment to Mayhew on the day The Times visited the Chilmark docks.
The Solitude was built in 1984, and has made berth in Menemsha her whole life. Before she was Mayhew’s boat, she belonged to Pat Jenkinson, or as the new generation of fishermen call him, Old Man Pat. Mayhew started out the same as Gale; he began lobstering through a program run by the state, which hands out 25 pots to students. Now at 27 years old, Mayhew’s upgraded to a bigger boat, and passed along the Solitude.
“Pay it forward. That’s my theory,” said Mayhew.
Menemsha boasts many young fishermen nowadays, including Otto Osmers, who scalloped all summer and started oystering in late November. Still, a lot of the older guys have experienced several changes in the industry over the years — stocks depleted and rebuilt, federal and state management regulations, technological advancements, and foreign competition. “When I first came here, 47 years ago, the O.B. harbor was packed with draggers,” said Johnny Hoy, who’s fished since his teens.
Hoy holds a commercial permit to harvest oysters, which means he can go out three days a week and bring in 800 bivalves a day. “It’s been a long time since they were this good,” said Hoy about his catch this year, part of which he sells to the collaborative.
“The collaboration’s been great, a big help to the fishing community, and the cookbook is awesome. That’s killing it on every level. Even if you don’t like fish, it has great stories, and if you like to cook, the recipes are great,” said Hoy.
There is a narrative that commercial fishermen deplete marine resources, but many of the fishermen think of themselves as “stewards of the ocean,” as Mayhew put it; they rely on the waters around the Island for their livelihood.
“It’s easy to think every boat out there is just taking whatever they want, but in reality, they’re really being careful, and they’re following rules that have been set from scientific guidelines and regulations, both state and federal,” said Edmundson. “Nothing is easy in the fishery world.”
Unfortunately, the regulations can be suffocating. Donald Benefit, who harvests conch out of Edgartown, is one of the fishermen who has gone out less and less because of them. He hasn’t gone out for conch, primarily exported out to the global market, in the past two seasons, because the value isn’t worth it.
Benefit, who was at the Katama boat landing for his other job as a dredge operator for Edgartown, also highlighted a critical flaw in the regulations of other fisheries. When fishermen drag, they pick up thousands of pounds of fish. But because they’re allowed to keep only a limited number of pounds, the rest are dumped back in the ocean. By the time they’re put back in, most of them are already dead. “It’s an awful thing to see,” said Benefit, though he understands the need for some guidelines.
Catching fish has never been as simple as dropping a line or a net and waiting. Fishermen need an extensive skill set in order to be successful. They must track water temperatures and tides, notice species’ behavioral shifts, examine gut contents, haul gear, repair leaks, manage wounds, splice wires, adapt to the weather, and much more to take a fish from the ocean to the table.
“It’s often hard for people to see and connect to our fishing community, because unlike a farmer, we can’t drive by a field and see them at work close up, or go talk to them,” said Edmundson. “I’m hoping that [“The Sea Table”] kind of brings the fishing community to the general public, and helps them understand, feel more connected to each person and everyone’s uniqueness. To understand why they do what they do, and feel that connection and appreciation for their craft.”
While Edmundson was conducting the interviews with the fishermen, she was struck by each story she heard. “Every one of them was drawn to be a fisherman, to harvest from the sea, and it seemed like once it’s in you, there’s no turning back,” said Edmunson. “It’s an art, and there’s so many levels of skill needed to harvest something safely and successfully. I could go out probably 100 days and catch like three things. There’s a special person who’s able to pull it off in a way where you can make a living, and I feel grateful for the people who have chosen that.”
Edmundson is also wildly grateful for the community that came together to make the book possible: “I just feel really grateful for every photographer, every chef, every fisherman that donated something to make this book what it is.”
“The Sea Table” quietly argues for the future of a working waterfront — one that may never look the way it once did, but could still be vibrant, resilient, and rooted here if the community chooses to support it. It’s a snapshot of a culture that’s fighting for relevance and survival. By gathering fishermen’s stories, species profiles, and the recipes Islanders use to cook what’s pulled from these waters, the book lovingly records a way of life.
Editor’s Note: Updated to clarify cookbook timeline.
