![]() |
| Whose waters? Whose crawfish? Crawfisherman Jody Meche plies the waters of Louisiana's Atchafalaya Basin, which he's fished for decades. Mary Know Merrill - staff |
In bayou, whose water is it?
A legal battle brews over whether fishermen are trespassing when they fish in the flooded bottomlands.
from the July 23, 2007 edition
Page 3 of 3
Not only are such bottomlands the best fishing grounds, he argues, but he plans to cite both state and federal laws dating back to America's founding that support a citizen's right to traverse "navigable waters," however they may occur, and use them for subsistence and commerce.
"Every once in a while we have to reaffirm ... common rights for citizens," says Mr. Hurd.
The issue is complicated by the intersection of US law and historically marginalized Acadian, or Cajun, culture, says Barry Jean Ancelet, a folklorist at the University of Louisiana in Lafayette. In these parts, Acadian ideals of communal property often clash with the capitalistic – and divisive – potential of delta resources. "This is Cajuns with money fighting Cajuns without a whole lot of money," says Mr. Ancelet.
Fishermen: Need to earn a living
Yet many people believe this standoff is bigger than a few Cajuns getting hot under their flannel collars, says Mike Bienvenu, president of Louisiana Crawfish Producers Association-West.
He portrays the scattered communities of fishermen – numbering 2,000 – who earn their living in these tupelo bottoms as a small platoon of Davids challenging the corporate Goliaths who want the timber, seafood, and energy resources of the Atchafalaya for themselves.
Crawfisherman Jody Meche, an outspoken town councilor in the basin town of Henderson, La., knows the stakes. While fishing several years ago, he claims that he and his son were fired upon by a landowner. Mr. Meche filed a lawsuit against the man, which is expected to go to court later this year.
As Meche floats his flat-bottomed boat past the "no trespassing" signs, he points to where fishermen have hung wooden bait boxes on stumps in protest. The contested water spreads out in all directions, the silence punctuated by screeching ospreys and loudly burping bullfrogs.
"[Landowners] don't have clear title to this area, only a claim," he says. "This water connects to the waters of the world."











