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The fish are still missing and the tradition disappears 30 years after N.L. Tara Moratorium

Looking back at the recent turbulent times of history in Newfoundland and Labrador, there are few wins and many defeats.

The hook and line system keeps fish lively and unharmed. (Brett Favaro, Institute of Oceanography)

John Williams hopes that the 1992 Tara Moratorium feels like yesterday.

But after losing his livelihood and reinventing himself several times, he felt all of his last thirty years.

Williams was one of about 30,000 people who quit their jobs when the federal government ended the cod fishery in the north of on July 2, 1992. A desperate chapter in the history of Newfoundland and Labrador.

"It was a pretty sad time to know that you weren't going fishing anymore," Williams said.

"At that time, I had three children, who had to eat, go to school, and get dressed. It was hard."

To help Williams always remind him of his small role in history, the one who urged former Fisheries Minister John Crosby to say some of his most famous words. Must not be.

John Williams (left) had an enthusiastic exchange with Fisheries Minister John Crosby at Babes on July 1, 1991. Connected to one of Crosby. The most famous phrase. (CBC)

On July 1, 1992, Crosby was hosting a Canadian Day celebration in Babels, a small fishing village near St. John's. celebrate.

Especially with Crosby, that wasn't the case when I knew what was coming the next day. At the beginning of the week, Crosby was giving the harvester a net to pull the net out of the water until July 2. 

Things quickly leveled off as a large crowd of angry fishermen and factory workers constantly heckled the minister. Crosby came down from the stage and faced the audience. Williams approached and shouted concern a few feet away from Crosby's face.

"Don't abuse me." Crosby snapped to Williams.

"I didn't abuse you," Williams replied.

"I didn't take the fish from the terrible water, so don't go to abuse me," Crosby replied.

John Williams has retired from his offshore oil and gas carrier today. He still lives in the Babes. (Dan Arsenault / CBC)

These words have become central to John Crosby's political heritage. But they followed John Williams for 30 years. Often used as a punch line and as a bitter reminder of what he lost.

Williams and other protesters knew they were destined. Fish have been small for several years and are difficult to find. However, they were angry with the lack of communication and planning, leaving fishermen and factory workers in the dark.

Thirty years later, Williams is still angry about talking about the sudden transition from Tara and the federal government's payment of a small relief of $ 225 a week.

"It's the same as going to pick blueberries," he said.

"It was ridiculous."

Loss of income, a way of life is still felt today

After the moratorium Workers in other fields A federal program was formed to retrain and escape the fishing industry. It worked for some people, including Williams, who found a career in offshore oil and gas, but the program was hit by resistance.

"What are they retraining us for?" Richard Clements, manager of the Petty Harbor Fish Plant, said in a 1993 interview, "I'm [almost] 50 years old. So what are they retraining me for? "

Richard Clements tells a CBC reporter in 1993 about retraining for another career. (CBC)

The largest program, the Atlantic Groundfish Strategy (TAGS), ran out of funds in 1997, a year earlier than expected. Ottawa expects 26,000 fish harvesters and plant workers to be eligible for the program, and 40,000 were caught unprepared when they applied. 

Canada's Audit President Denis Desautel said in 1997 that TAGS was unable to help people get out of the fishing industry and succeeded in creating a reliance on government support. Published the bitter report mentioned. Due to the overwhelming number of applicants and their dire financial situation, the money allocated for training was instead allocated for income support payments.

"It was desperate," Clements says today. "Petty Harbor has actually become almost a ghost town. Boats don't come and go. Nobody is working. I didn't feel good."

A man wearing a baseball cap and jacket stands on a wharf.
Richard Clements is still a staple of Petty Harbor piers and spends the summer processing fish. (Ryan Cooke / CBC)

Clements was fortunate to find a job within his skill set. He works for his family-owned supermarket, Viju's Fresh, and still cuts fish to live near the age of 80.

Many fish harvesters have switched species and found high-paying carriers for catching snow crabs and shrimp. Others weren't so lucky and had to go looking for new opportunities.

In the first decade after the Moratorium, about 10 percent of the state's population left.

Today, the population of the state is 58,000 less than in 1992. 

Exchange the past for the future

Moratorium sparks Resettlement. Communities like the Great Harbor Deep in an isolated pocket on the northern peninsula of Newfoundland have been forced to ask themselves difficult questions — does it make sense to stay alive in this town anymore? ..

Jobs at Great Harbor Deep were hard to come by and education was tough. The children started in grade 10 and had to take a ferry every September to go to school elsewhere and live away from their parents from the age of 15.

"Anyone who can see the future here at the 1993 Moratorium Anniversary Special, said resident Pamela Lopson. 

Pamela Ropson and her daughter Megan are shown here in a 1993 video. Ropson is home to the Great Harbor Deep after the Tara Moratorium a year ago. Said he felt that there was no future. (CBC)

During the interview there was a baby girl on her knees. She said she was afraid of her daughter's future.

Lopson lost his job at the fish factory and was not eligible for a program like TAGS. She faced a devastating decision to continue welfare to support her family. She voted to leave because she was waiting for the state to offer a third-country settlement package to residents.

This vote was 98 of 130 residents of Great Harbor Deep. Made in 2002, when% agreed to leave home.

See | Ryan Cook, three people whose lives were confused on July 2, 1992. Track: 

How N. L. Lost more than fishing: Looking back at Tara's moratorium 30 years later

CBC Ryan Cook found that the Tara fishery in New Fundland, which tracks people who caught up, was severely shut down and its impact far exceeded their lives
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Since 1992, seven other towns have resettled. Recently, in 2019, they became Little Bay Islands.

Positive things about the Moratorium If so, Ropson is a parent And said it was an opportunity for children who should have followed the unstable footprints of their grandparents.

"They grew up and had a great lifestyle, but that wasn't feasible," Ropson says today. "But it's always at home. Always."

A woman holding a university degree wears academic robs and leans against her mother.
Pamela Ropson and his daughter Megan settled in 2002, when the town resettled. I moved from Great Harbor Deep with my whole family. It was one of the places devastated by the Tara Moratorium 10 years ago. (Submitted by Megan Ropson)

The baby on his lap has grown to become a social worker and is now helping children with Fetal Alcohol Syndrome. Looking at her today, Ropson knows that she made her right choice in a vote to resettle.

"I'm very proud of her," Ropson says with tears in her eyes.

Never return to sight

John Williams says that Moratorium will be short-lived, despite claims by Crosby and other officials for a short period of two years. I always knew there wasn't. Williams was looking for cod fish for seven weeks in the early 90's summer, but he didn't sell any. He felt it would be at least 10 years.

Richard Clements says he also knew that the industry was destined well before 1992 and did not wait for the industry to revive.

See | From 2012, Azzo Rezori's documentary on the heritage of the Moratorium: Azzo Rezori is new 20 years after the Moratorium. Examine the myths of cod in Newfoundland and Labrador

In Newfoundland and Labrador, the future of northern cod remains bleak. Yes, the latest rating is well below the threshold for getting out of the critical zone established by the Ministry of Fisheries and Marines. Canada. 

However, when I ask Williams, Clements, or Ropson, it is said that the biggest impact of the collapse of cod fishing was not the loss of fish or money.

It was a lifestyle death.

"I don't know anything about [my daughter], like we tried to keep as a tradition," Ropson said.

"We now have another kind of culture. It's gone."

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