Grimsby, once the world's largest fishing port, has seen its industry collapse, leaving locals with few job opportunities. At its peak, more than 700 trawlers were registered, employing 10,500 people at sea, with thousands more supporting the trade on land.
Glory Days of the Three-Day Millionaires
Former fishermen recall a bustling town where crews spent their earnings freely. Mike Walker, 73, who worked on ships for decades after leaving school, said: "They used to call us the three-day millionaires. God knows how many pubs there were down Freeman Street, and it was all packed."
Dennis Avery, 84, ex-skipper of the famous trawler Ross Tiger, explained: "When I left school, you either worked on the docks or you went to sea, because that's what Grimsby was. It was vitally important. Probably two-thirds of the town's population was involved in some way."
Fishing was dangerous, with more than 7,000 fishermen losing their lives from the port, according to the Fishing Heritage Centre. Despite the risks, Avery said he would return if he could, citing "the camaraderie and the chase."
Cod Wars and Quotas
Mike Walker said "everyone lost their jobs" in the 1970s as the Cod Wars escalated, when Britain progressively lost access to Icelandic fishing grounds. After Britain joined the European Economic Community (EEC) in 1973, EU vessels gained equal access to waters inside the shared 12-nautical-mile coastal limit, which many trawlermen resented.
Catch limits were introduced as scientists warned that North Sea cod and haddock stocks were becoming depleted. "The quota system that's there, it doesn't actually pay you to go out, because you're not catching enough to pay for your boat or your vessel," said Mike.
Decommissioning in the 1990s saw the Government offer fishermen "big money" to sell their boats, drastically reducing the British fishing industry. Fewer than 10 shellfish boats are understood to be registered in Grimsby now, and whitefish trawlers have been wiped out.
Modern Grimsby: Few Jobs, Little Hope
The only boats leaving Grimsby now are for crab and lobster, with white-fish boats not British. Haddock is brought in by container from Icelandic waters to Immingham, and the fish market sells within 20 minutes, compared to a two-and-a-half-hour round trip in the past.
Freeman Street, once "buzzing," is now quiet. Mike said: "You could say it's just vape shops and barbers. The market, to be honest, is going downhill very fast now." A young plumber, who chose to remain anonymous, said people turn to selling drugs, and he plans to move to Australia within 10 years.
Wind farms and green energy bring some jobs, but locals say only a small proportion of employees are needed to maintain them. The nearby oil refinery at Immingham has just closed, with hundreds losing their jobs. Emma Maskell, 49, working on a community garden, said: "It feels like we get opportunities that come in, but they don't actually employ the people who live here."
The Old Sea Dogs group meets weekly at Grimsby Market, where ex-trawlers gather to reminisce. While older generations are proud of their roots, younger ones grow up with reminders of what the town once was. The challenge now is finding an industry that gives the same sense of pride, but for better or worse, it is no longer fishing.
