5 minute read
President's Message | Complex Laws, Simple Mission
Years ago, at one of the most crowded beaches on Martha’s Vineyard, my buddy and I navigated through a sea of summer beachgoers to a roped off area. A sign greeted us. “Private Beach – No Trespassing.” Carrying not much more than our 9 weights, a small box of flies and a spool of tippet, we walked past the barrier to the empty beach before us in search of cruising striped bass.
We quickly found a school of decent fish up on the flat. After a few casts, I brought a nice striper to hand. Within minutes, a young man appeared from the dunes. He was belligerent, insisted we were trespassing and demanded we leave. If we didn’t, he said, he would call law enforcement and have us removed.
I was polite but undeterred.
“Go ahead,” I said. “I’ll wait. I’m confident I’m allowed to be here.”
“Who gave you permission?” he snorted.
“The law,” I said.
He knew I was right. He made a few additional hollow threats—about how his father would bring us to court—
and finally stomped off, sputtering about how this was his beach. Except that it wasn’t. In Dukes County, Massachusetts, the right to public use of private “tidelands” is reserved for fishing, fowling, and navigation.
A Mixed Bag
This time, the rules were on our side. But the hunting and fishing community has been battling to keep these types of laws in place all across the wonderful places people like to cast a fly. And regulations depend on where you live and recreate.
Unfortunately, if you’ve seen one state public access law, you’ve seen … one state public access law. There is so much variability, it’s difficult to keep track or know exactly which rules might apply. Battles are being fought across the country to preserve public access—from Montana to Florida, Missouri to Maine, and everywhere in between.
In some states, laws around use and access favor the public. In Vermont, for example, not only do public trust resources include fish, wildlife, surface water and ground water, but the public right to access land for hunting and fishing is enshrined in the Vermont Constitution on lands that are “unenclosed.”
In order for private land to be considered enclosed—or inaccessible to the public—the property must be legally posted. To meet this threshold, signs must be posted no more than 400 feet apart and registered with the town clerk—every year. As you might
imagine, plenty of landowners just don’t want to deal with that burden and leave their legally unposted land accessible.
In Arizona, by contrast, anglers cannot even float through private property unless the water is considered “navigable.” That category of what’s considered navigable only includes the Colorado River. Everything else is off limits, unless permission is given by the landowner.
Regardless of location, public access for fishing is becoming increasingly threatened. Often this threat comes from wealthy landowners who don’t want to see their property defiled by the mere presence of the angling public. It’s an ongoing battle which should capture the attention of the fly fishing community, because along with the protection and restoration of habitat, loss of public access is the single biggest threat to our collective ability to go fishing.
A History of Advocacy
This issue of Flyfisher features prime examples of challenges to access, what’s at stake, and what we can do about it. Along with these stories, you’ll find a message right up front from Land Tawny, the President and CEO of Backcountry Hunters and Anglers (BHA). Public access has always been an important issue to FFI, and we are grateful for partner organizations such as BHA whose mission is to preserve North America’s outdoor heritage of hunting and fishing through public education and advocacy. A key element of BHA’s efforts is protecting and fighting for public access.
Along with countless other organizations focusing on hunting, fishing, and conservation, FFI stands shoulder to shoulder with BHA, fighting for our right to enjoy the natural resources all around us. Without public access, most of us would have to give up fly fishing for other passions and pursuits. It’s just that simple. What’s also cut and dry is that I will continue to battle for access to places where I—and the rest of the fly fishing community— can still wet a line.
Patrick Berry
Patrick H. Berry is FFI President and CEO. Berry brings over 27 years of experience within the environmental conservation field, having come to FFI from the Vermont Community Foundation where he served as vice president of philanthropy. A former commissioner of the Vermont Fish & Wildlife Department, Berry is recognized as a visionary conservationist and is widely respected by his peers.