Starting a Dialogue: Understanding the Knowledge, Attitudes, and Values Related to Fisheries Management of a Black Fishing Community in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina

Synopsis

There is a lack of understanding of how fishing regulations are made as well as a lack of local community trust in policy makers. Communities, particularly communities of color, often feel their interests and challenges are not taken into consideration when potentially disruptive environmental changes are made like dredging and beach renourishment, and they feel they bear a disproportionate amount of the burden of environmental regulations. Overall, the socioeconomic pressures, fishing regulations, and continued systemic oppression these communities face have led to a severe decline in the ability of the cultural practice of fishing to be maintained, and many fear this practice will not be passed on to the next generation. This is of particular concern for communities with a high rate of poverty. We surveyed five fishers in a Black fishing community in Myrtle Beach, SC. The purpose of this study was to understand fishers’ attitudes toward conservation, local ecological knowledge, and values related to preservation of fish stocks. This project was co-led by a longstanding member of the fishing community, which allowed us valuable access to unbridled and uncensored discussions with community members. One of the biggest takeaways from the study is that the fish that the community relies on are becoming increasingly scarce.

Introduction

Coastal social-ecological systems are exceptionally complex, providing a variety of foundational services to local communities, including economic growth, subsistence, recreation, and well-being (de Salas et al. 2022). The interdependence between coastal ecosystems and communities can result in a cascade of consequences when shifts and problems emerge (Fleming et al. 2019; Evers and Phoenix 2022). Some of the changes coastal systems are facing include warming waters leading to more active hurricane seasons and other extreme weather and sea level rise, which both is impacted by and impacts the increasingly dense populations and development along the coast (Census Reporter n.d.). This is particularly true for marginalized communities who often bear the brunt of these consequences and whose food source and livelihood can be disrupted by habitat and trophic regime shifts (Knowlton and Jackson 2008; Binder et al. 2015; Neumann et al. 2015).

The consequence cascade resulting from these changes can take many forms. Some ecological and economic changes are more easily quantifiable and thus more visible and predictable within dominant scientific and management paradigms (Hirons et al. 2016). Population changes in fish stocks can be modeled, and resulting impacts on the local economy can be estimated over time. More abstract impacts, such as the loss of cultural practices and gathering spaces along with other sources of emotional and physical well-being, are often more difficult to quantify within these dominant paradigms and thus are less likely to be incorporated into management and policy decision-making (Daniel et al. 2012). These more abstract, qualitative, and cultural ecosystem services are important to public stakeholders, and changes in these services are often more apparent to them than the types of quantified changes captured by scientific monitoring (Plieninger et al. 2013).

This disconnect between local community knowledge and priorities and that of formal scientific and management institutions is also felt in regulatory efforts. Just as formal monitoring can fail to capture certain fundamental aspects of a complex social-ecological system that are apparent to the communities embedded within it, formal management systems can at times undermine the social norms of those communities that are foundational to local governance practices, such as the cultural practices of the Gullah Geechee, which emphasize reciprocity and cooperation to manage resources and ensure community abundance (Fuller 2021). Other examples of social norms in the Black community in the United States, such as those exemplified in Kwanzaa, like Ujamaa (cooperative economics) and Ujima (collective work and responsibility) represent an opportunity to leverage cultural norms in fisheries management systems. Local ties and cultural connections to coastal ecosystems are rarely simple, and they often lack the linear and unidirectional relationships found in fisheries models or the transactional assumptions of economic frameworks (Fleming et al. 2019).

Management and governance systems can be strengthened by taking these additional layers of complexity into account, rather than ignoring them. Local fishing practices may be grounded in social capital (e.g., norms of reciprocity and interpersonal connections where fishers may trade fish for resources they need or even provide fish to vulnerable community members at no cost, which represents an added service not accounted for by policy makers) and local capacity (e.g., place-based and skill-based knowledge and know-how where ecological knowledge of the area as well as technical knowledge is passed through the community and through generations; Folke et al. 2005; Foster-Fishman et al. 2007). These social ties, norms, and collective understanding can form the basis of extremely effective, long-term governance and stewardship (Johnsen 2009; Fuller 2021). Despite the documented success of local, traditional management systems, it is unfortunately common for policy makers to intervene in systems without understanding the local context (i.e., the flow of resources through a community and barriers to compliance with certain regulations; Tafon 2019), inadvertently flattening the nuanced reality of the social systems and cultures involved. This approach is detrimental to local cultures but is also markedly less effective. Exchanging social norms for economic incentives often disrupts and weakens local management, exerts less influence on individual behavior, and is likely to revert in the absence of consistent external, top-down enforcement (Gustavsson 2018). Policy and management processes that more directly and purposefully engage with local communities are better positioned to understand potential stakeholder conflict, to address and redress historical injustice, and to shape management systems that are more effective and legitimate (Tafon et al. 2022).

Local ecological knowledge (LEK) research is an important emerging scientific lens for understanding and engaging with local communities (Bender et al. 2014; Brondízio et al. 2021). LEK systems are characterized by long-term interdependence of a community with a given ecosystem. It can thus call attention to patterns and changes otherwise invisible to scientific monitoring and management. This can include altered population numbers and migratory patterns, particularly for understudied, newly threatened, or otherwise rare species (Gilchrist et al. 2005; Silvano and Valbo-Jørgensen 2008; Berkström et al. 2019). LEK can also provide insight into long-term historical changes that would be inconspicuous to less comprehensive scientific methods. LEK can thus supplement as well as challenge the knowledge produced by dominant scientific paradigms (da Silva et al. 2020; Gervasi et al. 2022).

In addition to helping shape management understanding of the state of ecosystems and how they have changed over time (i.e., “what is”), LEK can also be essential to framing management within those systems moving forward (i.e., “what should be”). As noted above, local, traditional, and indigenous management systems are increasingly recognized in the scientific literature as models for effective conservation and stewardship (Ban et al. 2019, 2020). Researchers have started to document the interconnected fate of cultural systems and local ecosystems—the erosion of one leads to the erosion of the other, and conservation of either relies on the conservation of both (Torrente et al. 2018). LEK research can thus be essential in helping to bridge community and scientific ways of knowing, thus making these knowledge systems visible and legible to management.

LEK research is diverse, but a core methodological approach is the semi-structured key informant interview with local experts within a community (Tremblay 1957; Kroloff et al. 2019). Informants are thus not selected at random but are contacted based on their particular experience, expertise, and position within a community and in relation to a resource (Kroloff et al. 2019). By using interviews rather than more structured questionnaires or surveys, this research approach allows for more depth and nuance in understanding, lending to the validity and applicability of the findings (Mazzei and Jackson 2012). This approach and analysis can further allow local expert participants to “speak for themselves” in describing the aspects of the community, culture, and experience that are most important to them and what details are important for the researcher to know (Mazzei and Jackson 2012). Finally, this approach can bring forward information that is understudied or previously unknown to science and can aid in fostering trust and collaborative relationships for future research and conservation practices (Kroloff et al. 2019).

In this study, we conducted a series of semi-structured interviews with Black fishers in South Carolina in order to document the Traditional Local Ecological Knowledge within this community and understand the perceptions of fishers in this community. The community of focus is located in Myrtle Beach, SC, which is located in the Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor, which is a National Heritage Area established by the Congress of the United States to recognize the Gullah Geechee people. Gullah Geechee are part of the African Diaspora and descendants of slaves who established themselves in the coastal areas and sea islands of Florida, Georgia, South Carolina, and North Carolina (Gullah Geechee Cultural Heritage Corridor Management Plan 2012). The community is made up of approximately 4500 people and is 95% Black (US Census Bureau 2022) and made up of three main neighborhoods/areas, colloquially referred to as The Hill, Racepath, and Harlem. A large proportion of people in this community live at or below the poverty line, as evidenced by the fact that every school these neighborhoods are zoned for has been designated a Title I school (at least 40% of students are from low-income families). Our findings from the interviews were triangulated with relevant outside documents and records, as well as validated through discussion with one of our co-authors who is himself a member of this community (S.G.). Our findings illuminate several areas critical to local conservation and management, including changing fish populations and practices, views of local management, scientists, and conservation practice, experience with and understanding of climate change and other environmental disruptions, and impacts on the local community, culture, and practices. Importantly, we also highlight the impact of methodologies and research practice for our findings; noting the ways in which meaningful engagement with a community reveals understandings not accessible through traditional social scientific methods.

Methods

Five fishermen from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina self-selected to participate in this study. Participants were men in their late 50s to late 60s (with input from a woman who was a fisher and elected not to conduct her own interview but gave input during the interview with her husband). While there was once a thriving fishing community in the past, less than 20% of the population (roughly 900 people) still engage in the practice of fishing. About 80% of those still fishing are men, and 90% are over the age of 50, with almost no one under the age of 40 still engaging in the practice. Participants were compensated with a $50 Visa Gift Card for their time. A snowball sampling method using word of mouth was used to recruit participants. Each fisherman interviewed had been fishing between 40 and 60 years. Given the age and scarcity of fishers still remaining in the community, we were limited in our sample size. One intended interviewee fell ill and was unable to be interviewed, and one husband and wife pair was unavailable both days interviews were conducted. Though the sample size is low and fairly homogenous, the demographics of those interviewed are aligned with the majority of fishers in the population. None of these participants had previously collaborated with a scientist. Importantly, access to this network of participants was made possible by the close collaboration of co-author S.G. S.G. was born and raised in the community in Myrtle Beach, SC, and has spent over four decades fishing in these waters. S.G. and his daughter J.G., a fisher and marine scientist herself, conceived of and helped lead this project. The central role of S.G. and his leadership in the project from inception through the writing stage was critical to our team’s ability to talk to fishers from this community for extended interviews, which took place in the fishermen’s homes.

These Semi-structured interviews (Table 1) lasting between 15 and 45 min were recorded using a voice recorder. Interview recordings were transcribed using Google Pinpoint transcription software (https://journaliststudio.google.com/pinpoint/) and automatic transcriptions were checked manually by the researchers. An open inductive coding scheme was used to identify codes, categories, and themes. Open inductive coding involves letting themes emerge from the raw data rather than bringing preconceived concepts or a priori frameworks to the analysis (Thomas 2006). Interviews were qualitatively analyzed using a constant comparison method. The constant comparison method is an analytic approach that consists of comparing interpretations and findings against previous findings in order to establish themes.

Interviews were also autocoded for sentiment analysis using NVIVO (Hai-Jew 2017). Sentiments were categorized as (1) positive if mostly positive adjectives and language were used, (2) negative if mostly negative adjectives and language were used, (3) neutral if mostly neutral adjectives and language were used, or (4) mixed if an even mix of positive and negative adjectives and language were used. The results of this analysis were checked by a coauthor to ensure no nuances were missed in the autocoding process.

Four of the five participants were also asked to identify the names of common saltwater fish from an illustrated identification guide from the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources (SCDNR; Supplementary Materials) with the common names removed in order to identify colloquial name differences that deviated from the standard common name. One participant was excluded from this portion of the interview due to visual impairment.

Observations about changes in the local fisheries and environment were triangulated through local records, documents, and reports from the SCDNR, United States Army Corps of Engineers, and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

Finally, findings, discussion, and conclusions were reviewed and confirmed by the local expert, S.G. This final step was important for confirming that the interpretations made through this process were valid and legitimate from the perspective of those inside the community being researched. Having a trusted community member as a co-author on the paper ensured there was accurate representation of the community without burdening our interviewees with additional labor. Results and products from the study were also shared with the community through videos and ongoing dialogue with S.G. Research was approved by the Institutional Review Board at the University of Miami (protocol 20181114).

Results and discussion

Ecological observations

The most common fish targeted by fishers in this community are spots (Leiostomus xanthurus), croakers (Micropogonias undulatus), and flounder (Paralichthys lethostigma). Fishers often catch pompanos (Trachinotus africanus) and sea trout (Cynoscion nebulosus), which are not targeted species, although they are kept when caught. The only fish species that are caught and not kept are “sand sharks” (this term is used to refer to many shark species) and stingrays (all species). There were 12 mentions of changes in perceived fish population numbers made during the interviews, ten of which described a decrease, one of which described an increase, and one of which described no change in perceived fish population numbers (Table 2 ). Species that were mentioned as decreasing in number were spot (3 mentions), pinfish (Lagodon rhomboides) (2 mentions), sheepshead (Archosargus probatocephalus), whiting (Menticirrhus americanus), king mackerel (Scomberomorus cavalla), and mullet (Mugil cephalus). The stingray population was mentioned as increasing.

There were also two mentions of a perceived decrease in average individual size of fish species. Flounder (Paralichthys lethostigma) was specifically highlighted as decreasing in size. There was a mention that migratory fish were arriving to Myrtle Beach later than in previous years. Participants attributed changes in fish populations to the following causes (Table 3): beach renourishment (4 mentions), changing coastlines due to filling in of sediment (4 mentions), commercial overfishing (3 mentions), illegal nighttime flounder gigging (1 mention), and sea level rise (1 mention).

Thus, overall, anglers largely felt species (particularly those vital to this fishing community) were becoming increasingly scarce. However, it also demonstrates how angler catch information can serve as an early indicator of changes in fish stocks. Anglers also had general agreement about the root causes of some of these changes. These anecdotal stories and explanations align with documented environmental changes in the literature and, in several cases, pre-date these first recorded changes. For example, in the late 80s and early 90s, environmental scientists began closely monitoring sea levels and modeling the impacts of sea level rise (Daniels 1992, Daniels et al. 1993). It became an increasingly pressing environmental issue that continues to be studied today. However, these anglers noted changes in the coastline and its impact on fishing beginning in the late 70s and early 80s before the phenomenon was well studied. As one fisher put it,

I'm telling you what I know. When we used to go to the ocean, the water was way down there when you got there. The water's up here now. Used to have sand dunes. I mean, you can get behind them and nobody couldn't see you. Now, when we get a full moon, the water comes all the way up just about to the street. (Participant 1)

In this sense, LEK would have been and continues to be vital in understanding the impacts of sea level rise on fish stocks.

Similarly, the anglers cited dredging and beach renourishment as major issues affecting fish populations. Many of the anglers interviewed felt that decisions on dredging and beach renourishment were being driven by wealthy property owners with no regard for how it was going to affect the local fishing community,

But they changed the beach sand. They brought sand in from different places to build up the beach up and stuff. Then they put some in the ocean. So I think that kind of deterred some of the fishes. (Participant 4)

There is an opportunity to include this fishing community in the decision-making process here as well. Environmental impact assessments have historically been conducted without the inclusion of LEK (US Army Corps of Engineers 2023), which based on our interviews, may exclude valuable information from going into these reports. In addition, inclusion of the community in these assessments could address the perceived inequities in decision-making and could assist with the equitable distribution of burden among stakeholders.

Attitudes surrounding fisheries management and conservation

The anglers who were interviewed displayed a limited understanding of how fishing regulations were created. Only one angler was able to clearly describe the process of how regulations were made,

Well, this is what I think happen. I'm not sure it take some smart guy biologist to what y'all whatever the people are. I guess they determine at what age a fish matures. At what age they can start produce and having youngs. I'm assuming that's the size that they come up with. If they're around 18 inches, they will be roughly two years and that's the age of maturity. That's when they're going to do– That's what I hope is happening. […] I really don't understand why. I just hope that's what the reason is. They're trying to preserve the fish at age of maturity. (Participant 3)

Two anglers admitted they had “no idea” about the creation process (Participants 2 and 3). However, through conversations, it was clear that the anglers understood what the regulations were and stayed up to date on any regulatory changes, mostly through the internet and game management books. Increasing accessibility of public hearings about fisheries management and perhaps hosting some within the Black community these fishers live in could present a valuable opportunity to bridge the disconnect.

These anglers expressed clear frustration with the rules surrounding two species in particular: flounder size limit and the addition of a slot size to redfish. Given that these two fish are target species for many of the anglers in this community, it is understandable that regulations regarding these fish would impact the community most. In addition, these two species were once previously bountiful in the coastal waters of Myrtle Beach. Southern Flounder are the most common species of flounder found in South Carolina estuaries (SCDNR 2013). Surveys conducted by the SCDNR have shown a steady decline in their catch rates since the 1990s (SCDNR 2013). South Carolina data are combined with fisheries surveys across the South Atlantic Bight in the Stock Assessment of Southern Flounder in the South Atlantic, which found decreased recruitment and female spawning stock biomass, but the assessment lacks significant inshore data, especially on age and reproduction (Flowers et al. 2019). New regulations, including increased size limits and restricted catch limits, were put in place as a result of the decreasing flounder population (SCDNR 2013). Thus, anglers are feeling constraints both ecologically and socially, not only are there less of these fish available, but, as a result, there are also increasing restrictions on the number and size of fish that can be taken. This double constraint makes it extremely difficult for the community to meet its demand for these species. Stock assessments for redfish, however, have shown large increases (at least two-fold) in abundance from the 1980s to the early 2000s (The South Atlantic Fishery Management Council 2009), and there is no indication that the stock in the southeastern United States is being overfished (Atlantic States Marine Fisheries Commission 2017). This may be a species in which anglers and policy makers may be able to work together to create less stringent policies that ensure this community maintains economic viability and food security while continuing to protect the sustainability of the redfish fishery.

When asked to identify common saltwater fish species found in South Carolina, there were 14 species identifications made across the four participants who participated in the identification portion of the interview. There were three species that were unrecognized (all of which were elasmobranchs—sharks, rays, and skates), and there were nine instances in which a colloquial name differed from the generally accepted common name. These included the term striper used for a striped bass, whiting used for southern kingfish, horsefish/blowfish used for a pufferfish, blue fish used for a blackfin tuna, speckled used for spotted sea trout, oysterfish used for oyster toadfish, striker used for a vermillion snapper, spot tail bass used for a red drum, and a ribbon fish used for a ladyfish. Anglers in this community use a variety of colloquial terms that differ from the commonly accepted common names in this area, so it is imperative that fisheries management understand the language of the community and adjust their language accordingly in order to be better understood.

About half of the angers could define conservation, and others were unfamiliar with the word. For example, one stated that

We need to take better care of our environment. And especially the ocean, because there's a lot of stuff in the ocean and we eat a lot of fish, but they keep polluting it and they want to catch more than it's supposed to so… Conservation is a good thing. (Participant 4).

When asked to describe what conservation meant, another fisher simply said, “to save, to hold for the future” (Participant 5). Others had more mixed sentiments or were unfamiliar with the terminology (“Don't mean nothing to me”; “You literally stop us from fishing”; “I don't know. Tell me what that mean.” Participants 2, 3, and 1, respectively). The fact that half of the anglers interviewed and few had an understanding of the word conservation nor had an understanding of how and why regulations were made suggests a failure on the part of fisheries management to disseminate information. South Carolina state fishing laws and regulations are created and managed by the South Carolina Department of Natural Resources (SCDNR), while the federal waters (3–200 mi offshore) are managed by the South Atlantic Fisheries Management Council (SAFMC) and the NOAA Sustainable Fisheries South Atlantic Branch. SCDNR releases an annual Regulations Book both online and in print and outlines licensing, permitting, freshwater fishing, and saltwater fishing info online (The South Carolina Department of Natural Resources 2024). Federal regulations can be found in the National Archive in the Code of Federal Regulations at 50 CFR 622, and the public can sign up for fishery bulletins and text message alerts (NOAA Fisheries 2024). The SAFMC holds quarterly council meetings at rotation locations along with other monthly subcommittee and advisory panel meetings, which are all open to public comment. These meetings are often multiple days during the work week (Monday–Friday) and span the majority of each day making it hard to access for those with limited transportation and who work full-time. There is an opportunity to engage better with fishers in this community, which may require meeting the community where they are both literally and figuratively. Anglers were also frustrated that the regulations used latitudes and longitudes instead of physical location names, which would be much more familiar and understandable to the anglers. The way in which information is communicated could be improved through the use of more approachable language.

It was clear from these interviews that the anglers had a generally positive attitude toward the idea of preserving the fish population for future generations (e.g., in reference to catch and release practices on fisher said “Well, it preserves for the future generation” Participant 3). Preserving fish for the future came up in a positive light in 4 of the 5 interviews. However, they were frustrated with the current approach. The biggest reason for the frustration was that they felt they were bearing an inequitable burden when it came to conservation management. They found it difficult to reconcile why they were, in their opinion, being overly burdened with regulations while the commercial fisheries, particularly those using nets, were subjected to different, seemingly less stringent regulations,

Now we're only allowed to keep 50 spots. The nets been going in, catching about a thousand, a thousand, a ton. A ton, a day. You tell me that ain't hurting it. That's destroying the fishing. (Participant 1)

There is an opportunity here to engage with the community to find solutions to the issues that they all agree are a problem. Involving the community in the process will ensure a more equitable distribution of sacrifices made toward conservation and preserving fish populations. From conversations, it is clear that these anglers would be willing to make appropriate sacrifices if it meant ensuring fish availability for future generations, so long as they were not the only ones expected to make those sacrifices and that they still had access to the resources they needed.

Despite not understanding the process by which the regulations come to be, the anglers were well-versed in what the regulations are. In this sense, fisheries managers have done an excellent job communicating what the regulations are, but not how the regulations are made. The anglers were also generally knowledgeable on the identification of various fish species, and it is likely that these anglers are more than capable and willing to comply with the rules, despite their frustrations and lack of understanding of the process. Such a knowledgeable and receptive community presents a wonderful opportunity for engagement and dialogue. This is particularly important considering what one could call a language barrier driven by the differences in the jargon scientists and policy makers use versus the colloquial language of the community. This combination of jargon and dialectal differences can create a rift in communication between policymakers and the community. Although the concept of conservation and sustainability seemed to be not only understood, but integral to the culture of the community, when asked to define the specific term, “conservation” there was a disconnect. Therefore, if fisheries managers use this term when engaging with the community, they may not connect in the same way that they would if different and more accessible language was used.

Rule breaking regarding regulations was mentioned three times, and each instance represented a negative attitude toward rule breaking (Participant 1 said “I never been writ up for breaking the law and that, and I don't go for that” and in another instance, a fisher’s wife chimed in to the interview to say “I have nothing to do with those kinda people [who break fisheries rules],” Participant 5). However, attitudes toward the SCDNR, responsible for enforcing regulations and fines for rule breaking, were mixed. One fisher (Participant 4) described DNR enforcement as “kind of sneaky” when patrolling fishing piers and another noted the power differential in encounters with DNR saying,

Whenever he pull that badge out, he authorized to open your cooler. He don't have to ask you anything. See, he don't have to ask you. He can open it. (Participant 1)

However, others noted reasonable leniency (e.g., offering warnings for first offenses) and stated “I think they do overall a fairly good job” (Participant 5).

Our interviews revealed an openness, albeit hesitant, to fisheries management conceptually, but more negative feelings toward the regulations as they stand now. While opinions about SCDNR were mixed, the fact that these anglers were strongly opposed to people breaking the rules suggests that while some may not agree with the current policies of SCDNR, they do agree that someone should be there to hold anglers accountable. It is important to note here that two participants were former law enforcement and may be predisposed toward valuing upholders of law and order.

Socioeconomics and access

Decreasing access to fishing was mentioned in several interviews. Fishers cited increased expense of fishing and lack of access to public piers as being the main challenges concerning accessibility to fishing. In reference to the expenses, one fisher said

Sometimes you gas your boat, your vehicle, your bait, you got $50 tied up in it and don't have a fish. Almost cheaper to go to the fish market” (Participant 2)

Others noted expenses to enter private piers and the omnipresence of paid parking meters. Fishing piers themselves have also been slowly disappearing from the area, and it was noted that the ones that remain have been damaged. With the increased development along the coastline, this has dramatically decreased locations where fishing is welcome. Three of the five anglers held commercial fishing licenses at one time, but two of them mentioned they did not renew their licenses due to not being able to turn a profit (e.g., Participant 2: “You can't do it [fishing] to live.” And Participant 3: “You can't do it [fishing] to feed your family”).

In the course of the interviews, conflict between commercial and non-commercial fishermen came up five times. At times the conflict described was outright:

You know, a lot of commercial guys, they do it for a living, you know, they have to eat but then you got people to go out there in the afternoons or late in the mornings and rob their traps and that's not right. (Participant 5)

At others, it more closely tracked with the resentment described above over differential regulatory standards:

That commercial fisherman, he can keep the little ones. You can't hurt fishing with a hook. With them nets kill a lot of it. You understand what I'm saying? It's about that right there. They'll lock me up and fine me if I get caught with one that be shorter than 16 inches. (Participant 1)

Disparities extended beyond race and into economics as well. Participants commented on perceived issues of inequity between commercial and non-commercial fishermen. Commercial fishermen were perceived as using nets to “cheat” (Participant 5), and decisions were perceived to be driven by economics, and in-turn rich and powerful groups were lobbying for policies that benefit commercial fishing or development (e.g., “It's about that money. That's it.” Participant 1).

Among interviewees, there was agreement of historical limits of access to fishing based on race, including king mackerel fishing previously being associated with white folks and Black folks not being allowed on fishing piers back in the day. For example,

You went down there on that waterfront without a shirt on and you'd be Black, they'd lock you up. When I started fishing in Bay State Park. I mean, that was a convenience because you couldn't really go on these other piers.(Participant 1).

It was also noted that more recently local gentrification and beachfront development had ultimately limited access to traditional fishing locations enjoyed by this community:

And about all of the freshwater spots are being taken over, we cannot get to those. Some of the locations we used to go to when we were young down in [the] inlet, all houses and things and now you can't…You can't get in. So a lot places are kind of closed… (Participant 4)

Over time these changes in beachfront development have resulted in changes to the racial make-up of beach and marine resource users (e.g., nearby coastal communities of Surfside Beach, Garden City Beach, North Myrtle Beach, and Briarcliffe Acres are 88–95% white, relative to the Myrtle Beach proper, which is 69% white, Census Reporter n.d.).

It should not be ignored that the legacy of slavery and Jim Crow laws greatly impacts the dynamics between this fishing community and policy makers. It was evident in the interviews that there was a clear mistrust in city and state officials to have the best interest of this largely Black fishing community due to past experiences. All the anglers interviewed were subjected to segregation and racist policies that limited their access to fishing during their lifetimes. Many of these anglers distrusted the process and policymakers because they perceived these processes to be disfavorable toward them:

That[“s] smart White people. That's what got that ocean messed up like it is. All them millions of dollar every year they're putting their sand, go out there and they pump it in there. What it do? All mighty come in here and suck it right back where it's supposed to be at. They're too smart. That's what got that beach like this. All the sand dunes is gone. (Participant 1)

Given that every single one of the 2023 SCDNR Board Members and every voting member of the South Atlantic Fisheries Management Council is white, it is easy to understand why this largely Black community may be skeptical that these entities might not have their best interest at heart given the historical context. In addition to the history of racial conflict in Myrtle Beach, there has also been economic conflict. Businesses, resorts, and wealthy real estate moguls have been establishing themselves in Myrtle Beach for the past few decades leading to increased property taxes, food deserts, and the privatization of land, including previously public fishing piers and fishing spots. Low income (and often Black) coastal communities, like this fishing community in Myrtle Beach, have been at odds with developers for many years (Pollard 2023). It makes sense that this conflict would impact perceptions of the fishing community. Much work has to be done to repair these relationships, promote equitable stakeholder engagement, and ensure policies take into consideration the socioeconomic impacts on vulnerable communities.

Social ecological systems and cultural knowledge

During the course of the interviews, we gained insight into the LEK held by these anglers, including what species liked calm versus rough water, the art of tying various knots, an understanding of fish movements as it relates to wind direction and water temperature, the art of salting fish to preserve them, knowledge of the best bait to use for various species, and how to catch sand fleas, which can be used for bait. For example, when describing the local tradition of salt fish, one fisher said,

Yes, there's a trick to it. If you don't do them, they get tainted. If you don't soak them right they get tainted down their backbone. I do that myself. I pick them up … My granddaddy did all that stuff. (Participant 1)

The practice of salting fish is a cultural practice originally intended for preserving fish when refrigeration was not an option. This means of preservation is a means of ensuring no fish is wasted and that the community can continue to have sustenance even after the fish stop biting. While refrigeration has become widely available, there are still many times in which this means of preservation can be beneficial, such as ensuring you have food supplies through power outages.

In addition, fishing serves as a source of sustenance for the community at large through traditional cultural events (e.g., the fish fry) and represents the base for the barter economy that operates in this community (e.g, “I share them [fish]. A lot of times especially with like the seniors that live in the community.” Participant 5). Bartering, the exchange of a vast variety of both alike and unlike goods and/or services to satisfy immediate demand without the transference of money (Chapman 1980; Humphrey 1985; Abass and Adraki 2014), is a common practice in fishing communities especially those that do not farm crops and do not have markets to trade in (Abass and Adraki 2014). These direct exchanges are often not prearranged and occur without coercion or mutual obligation (Chapman 1980; Abass and Adraki 2014). The practice of bartering usually occurs between people and communities who know each other and facilitates frequent local interactions (Humphrey 1985; Abass and Adraki 2014). Exchanges may exhibit seasonal patterns when the availability of the commodity being exchanged (e.g., fish) fluctuates (Abass and Adraki 2014).

Without fishing, these cultural practices, LEK, and community building gatherings like fish frys may cease to exist. Taking a social-ecological approach here highlights the degree to which fishing—and the related ecological trends—is inextricably tied to the fate of community ties and practices, collective values, and knowledge. While the cultural impacts of collapsing fish stocks are not often considered in policy and management decision-making, these effects and the potential losses were noted by participants. As one fisher put it,

I want my children and my grandchildren, great grandchildren catch fish and see what it's like. The way it's going, I don't know if it's going to be that way. (Participant 2)

Interactions with science

Interactions with science were mentioned twice, both of which were negative. None of the participants had ever collaborated with a scientist before. One described his interactions with scientists doing fisher surveys thusly,

No, no, no. I mean, they come out and ask questions. Sometimes they come out from coastal– I guess they go to school in Coastal Carolina. They come out there sometimes in a– but they want to hold you up a long time, and sometimes I have to tell them I don't want… Then you answer, then they want more and more. My patience sometimes ain't really that good, you know. (Participant 1)

There was also clear initial mistrust of the fisheries science community. As one fisher put it,

Well, I understand but I don't.. a lot of “em just smart… They don't know how to fish in that water. You're looking out for the future generation don't get me wrong. You can't keep a catfish. They don't know how many catfish in that ocean. (Participant 1)

However, over the course of the interviews, participants were open, honest, and receptive, and many expressed an interest in continuing to help with the study and in answering any follow-up questions. We feel increased engagement with this community on their terms would improve relationships between anglers, policy makers, and fisheries scientists.

Conclusion

Taken together, our findings highlight how a social-ecological systems approach can shed light on complex and dynamic small-scale fisheries that may not be captured through traditional fisheries management data collection. The fishers in our study described a cultural practice with a rich history and deep ties to community well-being that has been shaped by larger trends of climate change, economic and real estate development, and racial and socioeconomic inequality. Our findings highlight opportunities for fisheries managers to connect with these traditional fishers on values of preserving fishing practices for future generations that may be otherwise lost in translation. Finally, our study underscores the importance of reaching out to engaging in deep, meaningful ways with stewards of LEK, in order to unearth complex lessons relevant for future fisheries management. Policy makers should consider hosting community-led workshops where fishers can co-design regulations, and LEK should be integrated into stock assessments and environmental impact assessment.

Author contributions

Jasmin Graham and Sidney Graham conducted all of the interviews and contributed to the writing and editing of the manuscript. Julie Wester completed the transcription analysis of all of the interviews and contributed to the writing and editing of the manuscript. Kathy Liu conducted all of the background research for the project and contributed to the writing and editing of the manuscript.

Acknowledgments

We would like to thank all of the fishers who shared their time and expertise with us.

Funding

This project was funded through the Young Black Climate Leaders Youth Future Fund awarded by the People’s Climate Innovation Center.

Data availability

To protect the anonymity of our participants, transcripts from the interviews will not be made publicly available.

References