Loyal readers will recall that a few years ago, my good friend Chuck -Larson started a specialized bait concession, Chuck’s Organic Canadian Night Crawlers—Better Tasting Worms Catch More Fish, sold exclusively from a cooler in a back room at the Lake View Inn. Like Chuck’s Organic Firewood Bundles, these wiggly worms are appealing to your visiting urban-angler types, who don’t flinch at paying $8 for a cup of vigorous bait, because if it’s organic, it must be better.
Chuck is hoping to expand his business to a few more locations in its third -season but has discovered that even a lowly worm monger is not immune to the influence of current events.
“I can’t take the uncertainty,” Chuck said. “How can any businessperson plan ahead when the price of raw materials keeps fluctuating?”
“Is the worm market in a state of volatility?” I asked as we shared a pizza at the Lake View bar.
“They call them Canadian crawlers for a reason,” Chuck replied. “They come from Canada. Which means they have been subject to these on-and-off tariffs. A worm tax!”
“Of course, Lumbricus terrestris is not native to Canada,” offered always wise Wally from behind the bar. “They are invasive, brought to North America from Europe in the late 19th century. They thrive in southwestern Ontario, which offers the perfect combination of cool weather and soil conditions. Today, the region between -Toronto and Windsor is known as worm alley.”
“You mean you can’t raise Lumbricus terrestris in a box in the basement?” I asked.
“No, no. They grow too slowly,” Chuck replied. “It takes up to eight years for a Canadian crawler to reach market size. The industry relies on an army of worm pickers who go out at night with coffee cans strapped to their shins and pluck the worms by hand from the surface of leased pastures in Ontario. Brokers then meet in Toronto at a worm exchange and set the wholesale price. I swear I am not making this up. My worm source, Chris at Best Bait in Ohio, says that he sells 10 to 15 million Canadian crawlers a year, each one plucked off the ground at midnight in Ontario. And he’s not even the biggest wholesaler in the country.
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“So, slap a 25 percent tariff on worms crossing the border, and I’ll have to raise my price to $10 a cup,” Chuck continued. “Even sucker tourists won’t pay that price. The alternatives are limited. I can eat some of that cost or resort to the black market. I know a guy in Buffalo who’s working with a First Nation crew to smuggle worms by boat across the St. Lawrence River.”
Last week, Chuck disappeared for a few days—we fear on a road trip to New York. Let’s hope that border patrol hasn’t deployed worm-sniffing dogs. Chuck wouldn’t last long in prison.
