Why not?
OK, I'm not really suggesting the city should change its name -- not even by one letter -- because I just don't think the city needs to reinvent itself that badly. Ismay, Montana, may have changed its name to Joe because it needed to fix its fire truck, but Ellsworth is not in danger of fading away.
But I am serious about the city claiming the title "The Eel Capital of America." For starters, no other place in the country has done it yet, and Ellsworth has a better claim on the honorific than most other places I can think of.
Maine fishermen easily catch more live eels, in the form of elvers (yearling eels), than any other state (and generate millions of dollars each year in fishing revenue). The state has an annual catch quota of 9,688 pounds, which is believed to account for more than 19 million individual elvers, roughly 2,000 of which add up to one pound. South Carolina, which is the only other state where elver fishing is allowed, issues only 10 licenses a year and produces annual harvests that amount to a few hundred pounds.
The Union River, which flows directly through Ellsworth, is one of the most productive elver rivers in Maine. It consistently ranks in the top five for elver landings, along with the Medomak, Penobscot and Presumpscot rivers. The buyers who show up in Ellsworth during fishing season each spring set up shop along Water Street and other side streets, amplifying the visibility of the fishery beyond the dozens of fyke nets that typically are set up along either bank of the river on the mile-long section from Indian Point to the Leonard Lake dam.
So why should Ellsworth do this? Well, it would help promote the city and could help draw more visitors to Ellsworth -- or at least get Acadia-bound tourists to stop in Ellsworth on their way to Mount Desert Island. More specifically, the self-proclaimed title could help boost interest in an annual elver festival, or some such event that would raise the city's profile both in and outside Maine.
On Saturday, the first-ever Union River Festival, geared toward raising awareness about the health and ecological importance of the river, was held at the city's waterfront park. It was a nice gathering that did not attract a big crowd (gotta start somewhere), but it could easily be brought back next year as an eel-themed event.
Eels are weird, and therefore intriguing, and the notoriety of the fishery (which has largely subsided since the "glass rush" years of 2012 and 2013) likely would add to the public's interest in attending the event. And the more people show up, the more money they would spend in the city and the more they would learn about how protecting the river helps to protect the eels (and alewives, seals, cormorants, ospreys, bald eagles, elver fishermen, kayakers, and others) who rely on it.
