Now let's see, if she wanted to get revenge . . . what could the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration's Jane Lubchenco have done to stick it back to Gloucester, those darn fishermen and that really annoying newspaper that insisted on exposing her every move?
Imagine if she was still seething from her pet doberman, enforcer-guard dog Dale Jones being found out, and his and her laundry hung out on the rack for all to see in D.C. Would she have looked for a way to "get even"?
She was embarrassed into whisking Mr. Jones from the scene and into hiding, and, worse, she became subject to prying questions about accounting for money and travel perks.
Judges and inspector generals made her NOAA-It-All agency back off trumped-up legal charges as well as inflated, bogus fines. As Queen of the Seas, Ms. Jane, must have gotten pretty darn sick of Massachusetts senators, reps and residents asking more and more questions.
Didn't they realize who she was? She was the unofficial ruler of the oceans, along with the good folks at the Environmental Defense Fund, who had gone out of their way to save the world and satisfy their investors — oops, donors.
And those troublemakers continued to question the validity of her precious science, cataclysmic jellyfish and all.
Now, John Kerry and even Scott Brown were daring to wonder if the numbers were accurate? Didn't they know she was an EDF officer and a Pew fellow?
But wait! That was it! A stroke of genius might have come to her: Use your liabilities as assets, as the experts say.
Sure the numbers and fish surveys were beginning to crest upwards and that nasty "Trawlgate" situation had created some legitimate questions about the accuracy of NOAA science and "having your finger on the scale."
But why not take it to the limit? Why let the facts get in the way when they can pave the way! Yeah ... that's it ... the numbers could solve this little problem very nicely.
Why waste time arguing over the details of details. What if the next survey were to show that there were no fish!
Oops, hey! Where'd they all go? I thought there were cod out there because the boats were catching their quotas in a few days and the signs were looking up. But hey, the new survey says there aren't any fish out there — a complete failure.
Please ignore that day boat you saw two days ago steaming into Gloucester Harbor, so full of fish. Forget that its rail was almost under. Those were imaginary fish because there aren't any. Everybody knows that.
Could there possibly have been a moment when the good Dr. Jane began to hear the faintest of siren songs playing in her ear, asking the musical question if bad science had to be accidental?
In "Trawlgate," using the wrong net mesh size led to the first batch of bad science. Oops, that was a mistake by NOAA scientists, yes. And did that lead to lower quotas for Gloucester and other fishermen? Also yes.
But, hmmm . . . another survey offered new opportunities to . . . um, readjust the quotas. That could solve a whole bunch of problems. The numbers don't lie, right?
No, people do. Picture that old cartoon image of the good angel and the bad angel perched on Jellyfish Jane's shoulders. Not allowing any fishermen on the new survey boats might have added to the temptations our heroine faced. Who can possibly know what went on in her head?
One angel might have whispered: "Sooooo, those ungrateful Gloucester troublemakers didn't like the past three years, eh? Wait'll they see what's coming!"
The other might have cooed "You'll be sorrrrrrrry." Just like in the cartoons.
Possibly, she didn't know what all fuss was about. After all, the big-muscle enviro-groups had already declared the fish dead and soon to be replaced by ruling jellyfish. So, of course, no one would be put out or surprised by a survey that declared a total wipe-out of the cod.
And, oh yes, no "do-overs." The numbers stand. No additional surveys would be allowed. Science never lies, right?
No, people do.
So who knows what plans were hatched or not hatched. The new survey says the cod are all but gone — fallen off the edge of the world, I guess. So the quotas were slashed again by the Doc while the Conservation Law Foundation urges them even lower — fishing communities be damned.
That very night, we dined on a cod so thick and juicy, brought in that very day fresh from a Gloucester boat that again had sailed into the harbor with very little freeboard it was so low in the water.
Someone forgot to tell the fish that they had been wiped out. Around here, even the fish are causing trouble. But none of that matters to the Doctor of Doom.
The fish will just have to read the new NOAA surveys themselves and then, like the fishing communities, they can go drop dead. How very convenient.
Gordon Baird is a local actor and musician, co-founder of Musician magazine, and producer of the community access TV show "Gloucester Chicken Shack."
