October 12, 2022 — On a Wednesday afternoon last month, Sam Sewall snagged a lobster from a trap in York Harbor in Maine, and measured its carapace like a shoe salesman sizing a squirmy toddler’s foot. About 100 miles to the south, New England Aquarium marine scientist Sharon Hsu peered through the bubble windows of a small plane flying off Cape Cod, searching for whales. And in an alley behind Newbury Street in Boston’s Back Bay, chef Michael Serpa received a delivery of 20 pounds of fresh lobster tail, knuckle, and claw meat.
Out on the water, Sewall and his father, Mark, pulled up six traps in 90 minutes. After sizing and surveying each lobster, they tossed most back — they were too small, or breeders — and returned to dock with just a dozen lobsters. Sewall grimaced. New federal regulations on lobster fishing were likely coming, Sewall knew, and he worried about what they would mean for his livelihood.
Up in the air 15 miles off Nantucket, Hsu spotted the telltale heart-shaped blow of an endangered North Atlantic right whale. It swam slowly, with several rope lines trailing behind it.
Hsu had seen this whale before, similarly entangled in the Gulf of St. Lawrence. It was Snow Cone, and this was her fifth entanglement. Hsu knew Snow Cone would not likely survive.
“It was like a punch in the gut,” Hsu said, echoing a lobsterman she’s never met.
Meanwhile, Serpa took the lobster meat and began cleaning, chopping, and prepping it for that night’s dinner. There were lobster rolls and lobster spaghetti to prepare to fill the eager bellies of his guests. Demand has been so strong lately, he can practically name his price.