Skipper Otto sources B.C. seafood from B.C. fishers to sell to B.C. consumers. That concept shouldn’t be so revolutionary, says CEO Sonia Strobel
Sonia Strobel began seafood company Skipper Otto to make it easier to buy B.C. fish in B.C.
The irony of that isn’t lost on Strobel, who blames the “industrial seafood system” for creating a local industry that is reliant on the export market — and particularly vulnerable to the threat of U.S. tariffs.
Data shows Canada exports about 90 per cent of the seafood we harvest, and imports 80 per cent of the seafood we eat.
In 2022, B.C. harvested 115,243 tonnes of wild fish and seafood worth about $441 million. Most of that was exported, with the U.S. at the top of the list.
“We have a policy regime that leaves everything up to the free market and multinational companies,” said Strobel. “We need a policy that says we want to eat Canadian food.”
Strobel’s company was founded on that principle. Skipper Otto, a “community supported fishery,” signs up members to buy local seafood sourced from First Nations harvesters and what is left of B.C.’s independent fishing fleet. In essence, Strobel sources B.C. seafood from B.C. fishers to sell to B.C. consumers. She argues that concept shouldn’t be so revolutionary.
The reality is that B.C.’s seafood industry is “heavily structured for export,” said Rick Williams, a fisheries adviser with Ecotrust Canada, a non-profit that supports rural B.C. and First Nations economic development.
Similar to the auto industry, seafood often goes back and forth over the border several times before reaching consumers. Tariffs would be “hugely damaging” to the industry, he said.
As with much of B.C.’s food system, there are reasons the seafood industry has evolved to take advantage of U.S. markets.
In the case of halibut, for example, the greatest value is in the fresh market, said Christina Burridge, executive-director of the B.C. Seafood Alliance. While about 20 per cent of the catch stays in B.C. and five per cent goes to the rest of Canada, three-quarters heads south along the I-5 corridor, where it appears at “white tablecloth” restaurants. Freezing halibut to export it to other markets would diminish its value, and as a result, finding new markets is more difficult than it sounds.
As fish is “on the more expensive end of the protein scale,” Burridge fears many American restaurants and consumers will be wiling unwilling to pay a 25 per cent markup due to tariffs. That could mean the loss of jobs in both processing and harvesting in B.C.
Burridge agreed a stronger Canadian market could mitigate some of the impact, but she pointed out that some of the products B.C. imports aren’t found in local waters, or imports are cheaper, as in the case of farmed shrimp. Expanding the B.C. market for local prawns, for example, isn’t likely to change that.
But Williams said B.C.’s problems are amplified by a licence and quota system that favours big processing companies and investors, who hold most of the licences to harvest in B.C. waters. Individual fishers often can’t afford to buy licences, so they lease them from the processors for up to 70 per cent of their catch’s estimated value. As a result, they don’t have control of where that fish is sold, returning it to the processor, who then seeks out the best return, often on the export market.
Burridge said B.C.’s licence and quota system has conservation benefits and also provides stability to the industry.
Strobel recounted an experience her husband had while shopping at a large grocery store in B.C. There, he found a piece of wild sockeye salmon. Using the batch number, he was able to determine that while the fish was caught in B.C., it had been shipped to China for processing and packaging before being shipped back to B.C. to be sold.
She said B.C. seafood is integral to culture, livelihood and identity.
“If the threat of a trade war causes people to realize what’s happening and what they value, then that’s the silver lining,” she said.
