Netflix's new Canadian thriller Below arrives globally on October 8, 2026, and it puts a very real Atlantic Canadian dilemma on screen: what happens to a family fishing enterprise when the man who built it is suddenly gone. Josh Hartnett stars as Calvin Penney, a hardworking but troubled fisherman in the remote Newfoundland town of Snooks Arm, carrying the pain of his father's mysterious death while trying to protect a vanishing way of life. Behind the sea-monster horror sits a question thousands of real Newfoundland and Labrador harvesting families face today — one that has less to do with tentacles and more to do with paperwork.
According to Netflix's Tudum, the six-part limited series was filmed on location in St. John's and centres on a community fighting to hold onto its livelihood. That livelihood, in the real world, is often a household's single most valuable asset: the fishing enterprise itself — the licences, the quota, the vessel and the gear. For families like the fictional Penneys, the death of an owner-operator is not just a personal tragedy. It is a financial and legal event that can quietly wipe out generations of accumulated value if no plan exists.
A licence is worth more than the boat
In inshore fisheries, the boat is rarely the prize. The real wealth sits in the commercial licences and quota attached to the enterprise. A single crab, lobster or groundfish licence in Atlantic Canada can be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars — sometimes more than a family home. Yet many harvesters treat these assets informally, holding them in a single person's name with no documented plan for what happens next.
That informality is where families get hurt. When the licence holder dies without a clear succession structure, the enterprise can stall. Crews go unpaid, seasons are missed, and the value that took a lifetime to build starts to erode the moment the wharf goes quiet.
The owner-operator rule changes everything
Here is the trap that surprises many families. Under Fisheries and Oceans Canada's policy for the inshore fleet — the framework known as PIIFCAF, meant to preserve the independence of the inshore fleet — Atlantic inshore licences must be held and used by independent, licensed owner-operators, not by companies or outside investors. You cannot simply will a fishing licence to a child the way you would a cottage or a bank account.
DFO does allow a defined path. Its Fisheries Licensing Policy for the Newfoundland and Labrador Region permits a licence to be re-issued from a parent or step-parent to an eligible child, a category that can include a son-in-law or daughter-in-law, provided the recipient meets the eligibility and certification requirements. But that transfer is a regulated process, not an automatic inheritance. The heir must already be a certified, registered fish harvester. If the next generation has not built up their sea time and certifications before the transfer is needed, the door can close.
DFO's own industry consultations have flagged the deeper risk: in some fleets there is little succession planning at all, and a lack of interest from younger people in becoming harvesters. That combination — valuable assets and no ready successor — is exactly how a family loses an enterprise it assumed would stay in the family forever.
Where a wealth advisor earns their keep
This is where a wealth manager or financial planner who understands the fishery becomes essential, long before anyone is grieving. The goal is to turn an informal, one-name operation into a documented plan that survives a sudden loss.
A good advisor working alongside a fisheries lawyer and an accountant will typically look at several things. First, valuation: getting a defensible market value for the licences and quota so the estate can be settled fairly, especially when some children fish and others do not. Second, liquidity: a licence cannot be split down the middle, so families often need life insurance or other funds to compensate the heirs who are not taking over the enterprise. Third, tax: the transfer or eventual sale of fishing assets carries capital-gains and estate consequences that can be softened with the right structure and timing.
Fourth, and most overlooked, is certification runway. If the plan is for a daughter or son to take the enterprise, the family needs a multi-year timeline to get that heir registered and sea-qualified while the current holder is still active. Wealth planning here is not only about money. It is about sequencing decisions so the DFO rules can actually be met when the time comes.
What to do now, not later
The lesson of Below — stripped of the monster — is that these communities are one bad season, or one sudden loss, away from a crisis. Real families do not need to wait for disaster.
Start by writing down what the enterprise actually contains: every licence, its species and its estimated value. Confirm who in the next generation intends to fish, and whether they hold, or can realistically obtain, harvester certification. Talk to a wealth advisor about liquidity and insurance so that no heir is forced to sell the enterprise just to pay out siblings or taxes. And review the current DFO rules directly, because licensing policy is updated regularly and the details decide whether a transfer succeeds or fails. The federal government publishes the framework through Fisheries and Oceans Canada's licensing policy for the Newfoundland and Labrador Region.
None of this makes for gripping television. But for the thousands of Canadian families whose way of life really is vanishing, a clear succession plan is the difference between passing down a legacy and watching it sink. An experienced wealth-management professional can help harvesting families protect what took generations to build — well before the next storm hits.
This article is general information, not legal, tax or financial advice. Fishing licence rules are set by Fisheries and Oceans Canada and change over time; consult a qualified wealth advisor, accountant and fisheries lawyer before making succession decisions.

Olivia Tremblay