The old saw, “They’re not making any new shorefront” cuts in several directions. With limited waterfront land, and increased development pressure, the value and cost go up. And value and cost are not the same things.

Here in Maine, we are blessed with 3,000-plus miles of shorefront, thanks to the long, finger-like peninsulas that reach into the ocean from north of Portland to just east of Machias. If you include the islands in your count, Maine has about 5,000 miles of coast.

The peninsulas and islands have meant that locals, tourists and summer residents have access to the sea, a universal, primal draw. This is good. Maine’s tourism industry, the state’s largest, cashes in on this asset.

Our coastal and island villages, towns and cities also are laden with that hard to explain, but easy to notice “quality of life” in large part because of that salty water near by. That, too, blesses us economically.

A challenge that will be renewed with the next real estate boom is the struggle to keep coastal residential property affordable for middle class folks. Efforts on behalf of an affordable coast will struggle to avoid being eclipsed by market forces.

The relativity of value vs. cost comes into play when particular uses of the waterfront—fishing, shipping, boatbuilding—can’t compete in the market arena. This is where the hand of government can and should tip the scales.

There is historical precedent for understanding the coast in terms not tied to “for sale” signs. For centuries, Maine’s native people were aware of the working waterfront concept, in that they camped along the shore in summer to fish and dig shellfish.

In 2005, Mainers amended the state constitution to allow tax relief for commercial fishing properties and they funded a $2 million bond to acquire permanent access for future fisheries.

In Portland, a well-intentioned municipal attempt to protect the working waterfront—that is, to give fishing and shipping endeavors and the businesses that cater to them a leg up on real estate near the harbor—may no longer be the right helping hand.

Portland was an early battleground in the effort to save Maine’s working waterfront. When a fishing pier was converted to condominiums in the late 1980s, the public was outraged and zoning was changed.

A regulation requiring 100 percent of first floor space in the wharf area be set aside for marine-use businesses was adopted. But wharf owners couldn’t fill those spaces. Three years ago, the city altered the zoning to allow up to 45 percent of first floor space to be used for non-marine business, provided building owners could prove they couldn’t find marine-related tenants. A recent survey is expected to show that vacancy rates for marine-use space remains high.

Portland is clearly a Maine success story. It is produces disproportionate amounts of state tax revenue and jobs. It’s a place where our young adults can go to find work, culture and other young folks.  Restaurant, pubs and shops—and call centers and law offices—are paying high rents, glad to be near the water in the Old Port.

It would be risky and wrong to assume fishing and shipping commercial activity will decline further along the city’s waterfront. Both may very well rebound in the coming years, which is why city leaders should listen to fishermen and other mariners and the business owners rely on them and ensure that their needs are considered. But a balanced, and maybe a more creative approach to keep buildings full is the best course forward.