Frank Thompson, a high-line, fifth-generation lobsterman from Vinalhaven, Maine, brought his 3-year-old Cadillac of a lobster boat, Freedom, and its crew — son Murray Thompson, 27, and Bob Jackomino, 43, both from Vinalhaven — to Gloucester last May to trap slime eels rather than lobsters. Why did the 53-year-old senior Thompson make this choice, and has it been a good one?

One big reason for the switch was "the money isn't there any more in lobstering," said Thompson.

He, like many of his peers, did better on bigger trap numbers, boats and engines prior to the on-going global recession when lobsters were generally worth double what they are today and bait and fuel were reasonable. He added his new 48-foot Duffy-built Freedom, powered by a 1,000-horsepower Cat, to his lobster operation in 2006. "I've got two boats and did fish 1600 traps between the two of them," Thompson explained. His other boat, Independence, is a 42-foot Cape Dory design. Maine law previously allowed each boat to be licensed and fish a max of 800 traps, even though the vessels were owned by one person.

"I lobster from 5 fathoms down to 130 fathoms (in the Vinalhaven zone of lobster management Area I). On a typical day, we (including regular stern man Jackomino) leave the dock at 4 a.m., fish 400 traps (set as mainly triples — three traps to a buoy inside and later as 25 pot trawls outside) and return by 1 or 2 p.m.," said Thompson.

That daily routine typically burns 150 gallons of fuel and uses up six barrels of bait at $105 a barrel. The Freedom's big diesel burns 56 gallons an hour steaming to and from the fishing grounds. Thompson has since throttled back the engine during these runs to save fuel.

"This year there's a lot more lobsters, but no price," said Thompson, who still works lobster traps with his Independence between eel trips. Boat prices for new-shellers along parts of the Maine coast are already around $2 a pound.

New state, interstate and federal lobster laws that have taken away many of Thompson's freedoms in the lobster fishery, and the independence of its lifestyle also persuaded him to trap eels. The rules have already made him give up his Area 3 (offshore Gulf of Maine and Georges Bank) lobster permit as well as declare a lobster zone off the Maine coast and primarily remain in it for the fishing year. If he wants to lobster in another of the seven zones, he can only fish 49 percent of his gear there.

"The zoning has made a lot of enemies (among the lobstermen); everyone has become very territorial," said Kenny Johnson, a lobsterman from Harpswell, Maine, who has also brought his 44-foot boat, McKenzie Marie, to Gloucester to trap eels because of the lobstering situation off Maine. State law there now further prohibits multiple boat and permit owners like Thompson from fishing more than 800 traps.

Thompson also fears many lobstermen will get ugly among themselves as frustrations over their ebbing incomes and flowing restrictions build.

"One of Frank's buddies goes slime eeling. Early this year he told Frank that's something he should try," said Jackomino, who has crewed with Thompson the last 15 years.

"I contacted George (Ingersol, Gloucester's unofficial waterfront mayor and the Freedom's current shore captain) and Jack (Reegan, foreman at the time at Yang Cho's New England Marine Resources Inc. in Gloucester), and we later met," Thompson explained.

The very small slime eel fishery is one of the last open-access ones in the Northeast. About four eel buyers exist in the country, including Yang Cho, who has four vessels supply him in Gloucester. The main demand for eels comes from South Korea as food.

Freedom uses much of her lobstering equipment and set-up to go eeling. Eel traps made out of plastic barrels fitted with entry cones, weights, and screw-on lids have since replaced his wire lobster traps. The eel traps are fished in strings of 25 with a buoy at each end. The same hydraulic pot hauler yanks up the eel traps, and the eels are also stored below deck in tanks with circulating sea water. "The tanks can hold about 15,000 pounds of eels," said Thompson. A vacuum pump at New England Marine Resources Inc.'s dock quickly sucks the catch out of those tanks at trip's end. The Freedom's fishing trips out to the Gulf of Maine, which largely involve going through the gear once and emptying, re-baiting and re-setting it, are also quick - usually less than 24 hours.

"This is the cleanest fishery I've ever been in. There's no bycatch," said Thompson.

The traps have holes drilled in them to let both the water in and the little eels escape. The Freedom's crew have learned "that the longer you let the traps set, the more little eels escape through the holes," said the senior Thompson.

"We have only been at this nearly two months, and we still have a lot to learn, especially about keeping the eels alive and dealing with their slime. Hauling in rough weather has been one of our biggest headaches. The (up-coming) barrels banging on the side of the boat irritates the eels, and they instantly fill the barrels with slime," said Thompson. He added, "I've learned one thing so far in this fishery. Do just the opposite of what anyone tells you about it."

Unfortunately for the Freedom's crew, the slime eel market now "... is very bad. The price has dropped 5 cents per pound; this is the first time in 15 years that has happened," said Cho, who is sitting on a lot of frozen eel inventory. The price for fresh eels (as opposed to frozen) is 50 cents a pound. Some eel vessels also process and freeze their catches at sea. Naturally, doing so yields the boats a higher price. The majority of the approximately 20-strong slime eel fleet in the Northeast is lobster boat-size and does land fresh eels.

"I got into this fishery hoping to go seven days a week. Mr. Cho has cut me and his other boats down to two days (or trips) per week, and we can each land no more than 20,000 pounds a week," Thompson explained. His twice weekly, 51âÑ2-hour commute from Vinalhaven to Gloucester and vice versa also involves a 11âÑ2-hour ferry ride from Vinalhaven to Rockland, Maine.

"I don't want to lose Frank. He catches big eels, and they're alive," said Cho.

"If we weren't catching the big eels and bringing them in alive, we wouldn't be here," Thompson said. "All I want to do is work. We will just play this out."

Peter K. Prybot writes weekly for the Times about the fishing industry and related issues.