Captain Kelly Fukushima is in a good mood, bustling between fellow fishermen and customers eating tuna tacos at his stand. The open-air Dockside Market in San Diego’s Tuna Harbor, which required an amendment to state law to open, had nearly 100 customers waiting in line before it opened at 8:00 a.m. on a recent Saturday morning. It got busier as the morning went on.

The bustling market is a welcome sign of life for San Diego’s commercial fishing fleet, which has been struggling under four decades of the tightest fishing regulations in the world. The Magnuson-Stevens Act of 1976 enacted gear restrictions, reductions in allowable catch in fleet capacity, and rotating fishing area closures (like letting a fishing ground lie fallow). While the regulations have succeeded in rebuilding California’s depleted fisheries, the industry has yet to fully recover.

After the passage of Magnuson-Stevens, near-shore boats diversified their catch, creating an urchin fishery and finding outlets for other local species like rockfish, blackcod, perch, halibut, leopard shark, mackerel, dorado, opah, rock crab, and bluefin and albacore tunas. And with the opening of the Dockside Market in 2015, San Diego’s fishermen can now sell directly to the public.

Fukushima says the direct sales aren’t keeping them afloat, but that the face-to-face interactions “are a huge benefit.” He credits the Dockside Market’s visibility for an increase in local demand for his fish, which has allowed him to raise his wholesale prices as well.

Just as local foods are growing local economies around the country, fisheries from Louisiana to Boston to California’s 840-mile coastline are boosting seaside communities. But for all of the momentum that the market has given the fishing fleet in providing revenue, interaction with, and education of local consumers, the Dockside Market’s future is uncertain. San Diego’s Central Embarcadero, which includes Tuna Harbor, is in the midst of a redevelopment process that could threaten the fleet’s ability to operate.

Potential Impact on Fishing

Currently the Central Embarcadero includes the commercial fishing harbor, a park, a few restaurants, a run-down shopping center, and undeveloped lots in various states of ruin. Redeveloping San Diego’s waterfront has been in progress for two decades; various setbacks in other parts of the waterfront have stagnated many of the original plans, but long-vacant structures are being demolished and new parks are appearing.

In an attempt to redevelop the area, the port of San Diego has accepted a proposal from development company Gafcon, which proposes filling the port with attractions like an aquarium, hotels, beaches, a permanent farmers’ market, and a yacht marina.

The drawn-out process has resulted in a number of different versions of the development plan being circulated, and the latest iteration of the redevelopment plan, the Central Embarcadero will be zoned as “mixed use 2,” an unclear designation that has Fukushima and others dependent on the fishing fleet worried.

Local chef Juan Carlos Recamier, who sources the fish for his Ceviche House restaurant from the fleet, is among those who would be most impacted by the harbor’s redevelopment. He pointed across Tuna Harbor, “if [the developers] had their way, all of this would be Disneyland.”

Fukushima—who has been representing the fleet in steering committees and at port board commissioners meetings—gives it a more positive spin. “It’s putting us in the limelight for the first time in a long time.”

As in other cities around the country, revitalizing the waterfront promises to attract tourism as well as local customers. However, the possible development of Tuna Harbor has people nervous that the fishing fleet will be pushed to the side, and rumors are flying about collusion and profit seeking.

Gafcon’s Central Embarcadero development plan has been in drafting since July 2016. Early negotiations between Gafcon and the fishing fleet included an agreement that Tuna Harbor would be protected from any changes to its zoning and intended use. But the port authority’s decision this spring to adopt the “mixed use 2” overlay looked much like the original proposal to mix recreational yachts with the fishing vessels in Tuna Harbor, causing congestion that could make the harbor useless for commercial operations.

As a result, the fleet and its advocates are crying foul, reminded of the private meetings and illegal changes made to a previous master plan that upended redevelopment of the North Embarcadero and strained the public’s relationship with the port.

Lesley Nishihara, senior planner for the port authority, understands the fishing fleet’s trepidation. “There have been a number of things over the past two decades that have caused some mistrust,” she said, in reference to the redevelopment of the North Embarcadero.

But Nishihara is quick to explain that Tuna Harbor will have its own policy language dictating how the space can be used, that this language will protect its functionality, and that the mixed-use overlay was employed to allow for a possible expansion of Tuna Harbor. She noted that they would not be mixing recreational and commercial vessels under any circumstances.