Also on board is Steve Ryan, a biology technician who is surveying the lobster catch as part of a study of the environmental effects of Confederation Bridge. But it also cuts right through MacDonald's lobstering grounds in Northumberland Strait. For five hours we've been hauling up lobster traps within sight of the bridge, which looks like a Roman aqueduct, its rounded arches disappearing into the fog. Every trap Charles hauls up on the hydraulic winch is coated with rock crabs, which scuttle off sideways across the deck. After a three-year ban on fishing in the construction zone around the bridge, MacDonald and others have been setting traps in its shadow with rewarding results.
Prices are high, and so far lobsters are plentiful.
Nevertheless MacDonald is dubious. Here in the strait the lobster population goes in cycles. We've had ups and downs in my lifetime and in my father's before me. It's too early to tell, MacDonald says, what, if any, effect the bridge will have on his livelihood. In 1997 the number swelled to 1.2 million-a direct consequence of the bridge, which can carry up to 4,000 vehicles an hour.