Mike Cox fills Tillett in on success of new aerator in peeler-crab trough 



and pollution have seeped steadily into 

 the coastal area in recent years, taxing 

 the region's resources and the patience 

 of its natives. To keep up with the in- 

 flux, Tillett attends meetings and con- 

 ferences, asking what, if anything, can 

 be done to protect the fishermen and 

 the resources on which they depend. 



If you're looking for a calm, private 

 lunch, don't go out to eat with Hughes 

 Tillett in Manteo. No matter which 

 joint he takes you to, it seems as if he 

 knows everybody with a sunburn more 

 than three weeks deep. The restaurant 

 owner's son comes by the table to say 

 he's bought a new trawler. A brace of 

 tanned fishermen report on the scallop 

 catch. In return, everybody hears 

 about the "Captain Male" and its new 

 freezer. 



Before long, it's pretty obvious that 

 he intends to work right through lunch. 

 But that's part of his style — work 

 tucked away in a large measure of 

 socializing. 



"Hello here," he calls, "what are you 

 up to, you old lazy so-and-so?" 



The fisherman grins, returns the 

 compliment, and by the time the 

 waitress comes for the order, the mis- 

 eries of this year's shrimp season have 

 been compared to the worst in 

 memory. 



Tillett gives the waitress a hard time 

 about the menu, which is written to 

 catch the tourist's eye. 



"The special is popcorn shrimp," he 

 reads. "Now what in the world are 

 popcorn shrimp? I never heard of that 

 species." 



Maybe the obvious question to ask 

 him is this: Do we really need Hughes 

 Tillett, marine advisory agent? Why 

 not let the fishermen and coastal resi- 

 dents look out for themselves? 



The question makes him grin. 



"That's what those fishermen are 

 always riding me about," he says. 

 "Some days, I'll go down to see some of 

 them, and they say, 'Are you down 

 here loafin' on our tax money again?' 

 But let a little time pass before I go 

 back, and the next time I'm down 

 there, they're saying, 'Hey, Hughes, 

 what good are you, if you don't come 

 around to help us?' It's just their way 

 of kidding me." 



But the question has occurred to him 

 before, and he sums up his answer this 



way: 



"Fishing just isn't as simple as it 

 used to be," he says. "And unless the 

 fishermen get some help, they're going 

 to have a hard time making it." 



A few years ago, he explains, fishing 

 in North Carolina was stalled back 

 where agriculture was in the first part 

 of the century: dwindling resources, 

 antiquated methods, and youngsters 

 who tended to desert the family 

 business for more promising careers. 

 Extension work made the new methods 

 and technology available to farmers. 

 Tillett thinks Sea Grant is, at last, 

 providing that service for fishermen. 



But he thinks no advice at all is bet- 

 ter than the wrong kind, or the right 

 kind from the wrong person. The idea 

 of an outsider coming down to the 

 docks, set on changing things over- 

 night, is enough to make him chuckle. 



"If they don't know you, they're not 

 going to have a damn thing to do with 

 you," he says. "It's hard enough when 

 they know you." 



They all know Captain Hughes. He 

 grew up in Wanchese, helping his 

 father work long-net trawlers, and has 

 never stayed away from the area any 

 longer than he had to. 



"I enjoy working with fishermen 

 because I've been one," he says. "I 



came here in the first place because I 

 saw a chance to help fishermen." 



He also came, he adds, because 

 fishing is just too tough on both body 

 and soul. Murderously tough. He 

 believes that one way he can help 

 fishermen is by replacing some of the 

 back-breaking, hand labor with 

 modern equipment that saves time and 

 muscle. When he came to work as Sea 

 Grant's second advisory agent in 1974, 

 hydraulic and electric pot-pullers and 

 net-winders were rare. Now, they are 

 common. 



"Fishermen have changed a lot from 

 the way they used to be," he says. 

 "When I first started working with 

 those pot pullers, fishermen were real 

 slow to try it. They were slow to put 

 their hard-earned dollars into things 

 like that. You just have to keep chip- 

 ping away. You get one to try it, and 

 maybe help him put it on his boat, and 

 then he saves himself some trouble, 

 and the others start asking, 'How can I 

 get one of those?' " 



Back at the office, Diann Jones, the 

 secretary and inboard motor of the Sea 

 Grant office in the Center, has a fistful 



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