It’s hard to nail down Dino Pertuit. I finally catch the Louisiana seafood legend early in the morning, and we chat while he drives back from a shrimping expedition, the phone call dropping at least three times along the way. His rich Cajun accent and the rumblings of his truck in the background make it hard for me to decipher everything he’s saying. But one sentence stands out crystal clear: “I’m going to do it until I die,” he says of shrimping. And at 57 years old, he’s one of the younger ones who keep it going.

A third-generation shrimper, Pertuit has watched as prices for his Gulf catch have stagnated, but the hard work of harvesting it has stayed the same. He says his shrimp commanded about $3.50 a pound in the 1980s and today they still hover around that price—while the costs for everything else, like fuel and boat insurance, have only gone up. His product remains highly coveted; he supplies shrimp to many of New Orleans’ top restaurants, including Herbsaint and Cochon. And he’s not the only one out on the water casting nets for this delicacy.

Taking Action

Louisiana native Lance Nacio has a slightly different approach to shrimping. He’s been in the industry full-time for over 25 years and grew up in a trapping camp on Grand Bayou, an area that’s accessible only by boat, where people spent winters capturing animals for fur and summers catching seafood.

His great-grandfather immigrated to the United States from the Philippines and landed in Manila Village, a historic Filipino fishing community in Jefferson Parish. Nacio follows in his family’s footsteps, alongside his son, David. “Shrimp is not just our industry—it’s a way of life,” reads his website. And this is clear immediately.

Although he is passionate about continuing that legacy, I can hear in his voice that he is slightly exasperated as he prepares to travel to a multistate meeting with the Federal Trade Commission to discuss shrimp-labeling regulations. Nacio has been fighting for this industry almost as long as he’s been in it.

While he wades through the bureaucracy, he has wasted no time, turning to technology to overcome some of the challenges facing Gulf shrimpers. He’s equipped his 55-foot boat with an onboard aluminum freezing plate that allows him to quickly preserve and package the thousands of shiny crustaceans his full nets dump on deck. He hand sorts the haul, picking out any finfish to be sold separately as well as the hidden soft-shell shrimp in the mix (that delicacy sells for $12 per pound).

The rapid freezing process helps preserve the quality of his seafood, so much so that the shrimp don’t look or taste like they’ve ever been frozen. To create a more sustainable business, he’s invested in specialized equipment like turtle-excluder devices to minimize the amount of bycatch he reels in.

Nacio has also turned to new marketing techniques to cut out the middleman, creating a distinctive brand for his product, Anna Marie Shrimp (referring to his boat, the Anna Marie, which is named after his daughters), and selling directly to consumers, stores, and chefs. These innovations have certainly helped, but it’s still not easy to compete, given the larger issues plaguing the industry.

Changing Tides

Seafood is foundational to not only the state’s cuisine but also its entire economy. Louisiana shrimp account for about a third of those caught in America. Due to having two consecutive seasons, the crustacean is available basically year-round, starting with brown shrimp from midspring through the summer and then white in the fall and winter.

One out of every 70 jobs in the state is tied to seafood, which also includes commercial crabbing and crawfish, and it brings in $2.4 billion annually. But shrimpers face multiple challenges. One major battle is cheaper imports that are undercutting market prices. About 94% of the shrimp in the United States come from other countries, including Indonesia, India, and Thailand.

These imports are often farmed in large industrial ponds, the building of which can contribute to the erosion of mangrove swamps and wetlands. Antibiotics and prohibited chemicals are frequently used to mitigate diseases promoted by these aquaculture systems. There’s also a human toll: A 2016 investigation by The Associated Press uncovered the widespread use of enslaved labor on these farms. “Consumers are eating it up without knowing [the source],” says Nacio.

Imports have become a cheap solution for insatiable appetites. The average American eats about 4 pounds of shrimp per year. Once a luxury item commanding high prices, shrimp are more available than ever, from all-you-can-eat buffets piled high with plump pink prawns to abundantly loaded seafood towers.

It’s hard for American shrimpers to keep up with the demand at such low market prices, especially when they’re at the mercy of the season. Severe weather also poses a huge threat—like Hurricanes Laura, Delta, Zeta, and Ida in 2020 and 2021. The damage that was caused by those storms cost the local seafood industry more than $570 million.

The Real Deal

Even when shrimpers like Nacio innovate to become more efficient, their product can still be undercut by false advertising. “We’re losing our market share, and a lot of the reason we are losing [it] is from deceptive marketing practices,” he says. It can be hard to discern whether that “authentic” New Orleans po’boy you eat contains Gulf shrimp, though a menu might lead you to believe so.

Many restaurants in Louisiana have been found to be selling an imported product labeled as local catch, whether knowingly or not. By June 2023, there had been more than 2,600 violations of a 2019 Louisiana law that mandated restaurants indicate if the shrimp or crawfish on their menus were imported. “The consumer should have the right to know what they’re putting in their body,” says Nacio.

The good news is that, after years of working to bring attention to the issue, a law that passed in May 2024 (which took effect earlier this year) is cracking down on false advertising. It requires restaurants to clearly label where their shrimp came from and to include a disclaimer on the menu if they are sourced from abroad. The health department will enforce the measure and also has the ability to issue hefty fines.

Dock to Plate

The best way to lend shrimpers support is with your dollar, which is where trusted purveyors like Porgy’s Seafood Market (in New Orleans’ Mid-City) come in. Named after an oft-neglected bycatch, Porgy’s offers lesser-known species of fish alongside shrimp, oysters, crabs, and seasonal delicacies like crawfish.

Customers can buy seafood straight from the case to cook at home or grab one of the mint green seats at the counter and enjoy it prepared by their kitchen. The Sicilian sashimi, a trio of sliced raw fish lightly dressed in lemon and olive oil, highlights the freshness of their selection, while the Monger’s BBQ Plate uses under-the-radar cuts, like grouper ribs, and coats the flaky flesh in a zesty sauce. Served with soft white bread, it rivals the best pulled pork. And there are plenty of shrimp options, from po’boys to ceviche.

The shop is run by restaurant veterans Caitlin Carney and Marcus Jacobs, who leveraged relationships built with local fishers (like Nacio and Pertuit) while working in New Orleans kitchens to bring the same high-quality catch to consumers, including those who utilize Supplemental Nutrition Assistance Program benefits. “The way we shop for groceries in America, particularly seafood, is not realistic or healthy for communities or individuals,” says Jacobs. “Having everything you want available at every moment means at some point you sacrifice quality.”

And in the case of local shrimp, there’s no hiding the flavor difference. “You can taste the salt of the marsh,” says Jacobs. “There’s something rugged, delicious, and very much of a place when you taste this shrimp.” Nowhere is that clearer than in their shrimp rémoulade, served with humble saltines. And as if the flavor weren’t a giveaway, you can watch as local shrimpers come in through the back and drop off their fresh catch in the kitchen while you dine.

Even if you’re nowhere near Louisiana, you can still order Nacio’s products online (and, increasingly, seafood from many other Gulf fishers too) and have them shipped frozen to your door. You’ll pay a little more for it than you would at the grocery, but as Jacobs notes, “With seafood, a little goes a long way.”