By KELLY CUCULIANSKY
Staff Writer news-journalonline.com
OAK HILL — The bags of hard-shell clams inside the small, chilled display case are more than a potential meal in this town.
Piled in a yellow mesh sack at a little U.S. 1 shop, anglers pass by them in the bait and tackle store on their way to the Mosquito Lagoon. Along the road, a statue of a cliche bearded fisherman in yellow rain gear stares into the town that never recovered from the state gill-net ban, which put dozens of families out of work.
Although the shop resides in a place without a stoplight or successful industry, there is seafood and hope inside.
Grown in the waters of the Mosquito Lagoon, the clams are harvested and graded by Joe Ludwig right on shore, then delivered to the little bait shop, headquarters of the fledgling Oak Hill Seafood Co-op.
Open for about four months, the cooperative is trying to cut out some of the food industry middlemen, said Susan Collins Cook, a former Oak Hill mayor and the co-op’s chief executive officer. Local commercial fishers can sell their product in town and save gas money. It also means consumers will pay less for a fresher product while spending their money locally.
In a place where it’s tough to eke out a living, becoming involved in the co-op gives locals a way to help themselves get back to work. The nonprofit staff wants to re-energize the Oak Hill seafood brand to what it used to be before the fishing industry was devastated by the net ban in 1994.
And like any project in its infancy, there are hurdles to overcome. They’ve got to convince the fishers to sell their product to the co-op instead of other fish houses, and in order to build their stock up, they need a strong customer base.
Commercial fishers face their own dilemma. Tom Hall, who catches flounder, mullet, crab, and other things, said it’s a great idea, but he worries about what would happen if he started selling to one market over another. A wholesaler that buys regularly from him could replace him, leaving Hall without an outlet later.
“It would definitely help us if they could market this stuff and get the word out,” said Hall, who drives to Cocoa Beach to sell his catch. “My truck gets eight miles to the gallon. I’d love to be able to sell my product right where I live.”
For now, folks can buy a variety of seafood inside the Lagoon Bait and Tackle store, owned by Collins-Cook. But the group has big dreams.
“My passion is to get these people back to work and boost the economy here,” she said. “We’ve got to get jobs — it’s extremely important — and this is one way to do it.”
THE VISION
In a couple of years, co-op staff envisions a processing and distribution center, where 35 local people would earn a living. Local seafood would someday be sold throughout the U.S. and even exported. To get there, it will not only take community support but also state and federal grants.
“The grant money is key to it all,” Collins-Cook said, mentioning they are in the application process.
Once the $250,000 processing plant gets built to package, store and sell seafood, she said the co-op would hopefully be the backbone of the growth to come.
The staff also thinks back to the town’s better days, when 25,000 people flocked to Oak Hill’s annual seafood festival in 1990. The festival was a popular event that defined the city, but the group that organized it dissolved for reasons unrelated to the net ban.
Mary Lee Cook, vice mayor of the City Commission, said before the net ban was enacted, the town’s seafood was well-known throughout Florida.
“There was nothing like it anywhere; it was just unsurpassed,” said Cook, not related to Collins-Cook.
Today, there are no festival feasts in this sleepy village, although the cooperative wants to change that. Even in its early development, it’s already organizing monthly all-you-can-eat cookouts with live music in hopes of one day bringing back the festival.
Cook said she sees no reason why the co-op wouldn’t be successful.
“They will be able to make a living and probably a decent living, but the fishing industry will never be like it was before the net ban because of all the rules and regulations now.”
REVIVING A FISHING TOWN Taking a drive through Oak Hill — population 1,600 — is short. The isolated village divided by U.S. 1 was once a bustling commercial fishing community, locals say, with two or three fish houses. Today there is none.
At the time of the ban, more than 100 local families were involved in commercial fishing. Collins-Cook estimates there are probably 25 left.
According to the latest U.S. Census figures from 2000, about 15 percent of families with children are living below the poverty level.
Barbara Silver, who focused her dissertation for her doctorate degree on the effects of the ban, said the anglers are “still in mourning” about losing their way of life.
Some continue to commercially fish, but don’t catch nearly as much as they used to with gill nets. They change their game plan with the seasons, using cast nets for mullet or hooking and lining trout or sheepshead.
Others became fishing guides or barely make ends meet harvesting what they can and selling it with or without a license.
Even 15 years later, some still risk using gill nets, she said, and get caught.
“This net ban made perfectly straight people criminals,” said Silver, who has a doctorate in counseling psychology. But while some of the nets were sold back to the state, the product that once defined this place still swims along these shores.
It’s just a matter of making it easy to sell, said Jimmy Rayburn, co-op vice president. Although they are currently buying seafood from locals and from wholesalers in Florida, the young nonprofit faces habits that are tough to break.
“Right now, what we’re combating is years of fisherman selling their product illegally,” said Rayburn, referring to unlicensed fishers who sell their catch to the public. “They do that because there’s nowhere that they can just get rid of a couple hundred clams every day.”
Once the co-op grows enough to accept large amounts of stock that they can also sell to the public quickly, fishers will rely and depend on it.
“I have to be able to tell that fisherman, ‘I’ll take everything you can bring me,’ ” said Rayburn, also a commercial fisherman.
Sitting in the shop, Rayburn said it’s all about people like Joe Ludwig, a clam farmer who is trying to make ends meet after leaving the offshore fishing business.
“He lives in Oak Hill, and I want to keep him working,” Rayburn said. “I don’t want to keep the guy in Asia working.”
Ludwig already supplies some of his clams to the cooperative. He regularly drives about 80 miles roundtrip to deliver clams to a wholesale outlet in Ormond Beach. Having one more customer is always great, but even better when it’s close to home.
He said there is skepticism among the fishing community about whether the co-op will really work, “but done properly, it could be huge.”
At a time when so many fishing restrictions already are in place, the co-op offers hope to their industry.
“They’re trying to keep us alive,” Ludwig said.
kelly.cuculiansky@news-jrnl.com
Tags: Florida, Mosquito Lagoon co-op to revitalize fishing town, Oak Hill