THEN AND NOW

THEN...

In 1891, a new type of business washed ashore onto Newport Beach.

Local fishermen -- known as the Newport Beach dory fishing fleet --

decided to cut out the middleman and sell their daily catches directly to

the public.

For years, the fish-starved and hungry flocked to the outdoor pierside

fish market to collect the freshest sea trout, red snapper, kingfish and

mackerel.

The plot of land where the fishermen worked -- known as the McFadden

Wharf -- was deemed a city historical landmark in 1969 by the Newport

Beach Historical Society.

The Newport fleet was the last of its kind in the nation and offered a

unique twist in fresh-fish buying.

NOW...

The antique-looking wood-paneled market is still nestled alongside the

Newport Pier and could qualify as an attraction at Disneyland.

Visitors get a glimpse of life in the old days with the market’s

display of retired dory fishing boats, yards of thick rope, rusty anchors

and life-size fisherman dolls.

But the markets’ dory fishermen say that competition has stiffened and

loopholes in the fishing industry have created problems for the

independent fisherman.

“Business has slowed,” said 17-year Newport dory fisherman Jason Fain.

Fain said other fish markets around the county and illegal-fishing

practices by American fishermen in Mexico have hurt the longtime Newport

Beach business. Co-worker and 20-year Newport Beach dory fishing

veteran Stratos Voyatzis said American fishermen travel across

international waters and snatch up to 3,000 pounds of fish daily. The

live fish are packed in water and trucked across the border and then sold

to supermarkets and restaurants on American soil. And the quality of the

fish is comparable to that sold by the Newport fleet.

“The U.S. places limits on the size and how many pounds of fish we can

catch per day,” Voyatzis said. “There are no limits in Mexico.”

The Newport fishermen said they are unaware of whether the practice of

trucking thousands of pounds of fish across of the border is illegal.

But that isn’t the point, they said.

“It’s not fair for the Newport fisherman,” Voyatzis said, who sat

alongside co-workers on the market’s wooded boardwalk preparing lines for

a night at sea.

Fain said seven fishermen leave for work at 3 a.m. and head out five

to 50 miles offshore and travel along the coast. Long fishing lines with

hooks align with the ocean floor and lure hungry fish. Five to six hours

later, the fleet docks and prepares to sell their catch.

The group has seen 10 colleagues leave the business in the last three

years. Timothy Meek, the Newport Beach dory fisherman who drowned last

December, belonged to their fleet. They are a close group of men who said

their profession is fading. “The future doesn’t look good,” Fain said.

“Black,” Voyatzis added.

The fishermen take home their pay at the end of each day. In bad

weather, the boats don’t out. “It’s a tough living,” Fain said.

But the calm waters, early morning sunrises and lack of traffic keep

him happy.