Did Somone Say Salmon?

For several weeks between mid-August and late-September, this was a very common sight at the Goodyear Dam on Bowmanville Creek, just a short walk from Frank's place.


Dozens of Chinook salmon (intermingled with a few trout) wait near the base at the fish ladder as they regain some strength and determination to make their way upstream to spawn. I recently posted about the ladder here, and at that time, indicated that I would tell you about the salmon transfer that took place at the dam, this year.

Human intervention was required as so many of the Chinooks have outgrown the fish ladder which was originally constructed for significantly smaller trout. The hope was to transfer as many salmon as possible before the end of September (their final number of transferred fish totaled 5,540 which exceeded their goal of 5,000) and then start construction on the new, improved and larger ladders.

Funds and time have posed a problem, and now the new ladders will not be in place before next summer. That's okay as far as the spring trout run goes as they're still able to use the old ladders. Hopefully the new ones will be in place for next autumn's salmon.

You're probably wondering how it is that people go about sending 20 to 30 pound (9 - 14kg) salmon up a dam. I had no idea, myself and so I headed over to the creek to watch the volunteers at work. Lucky for you, I brought my camera with me. Did you honestly expect otherwise?


Along the way, I noticed that these men were transferring the salmon in a different way - home to the dinner table.





Others were not going to be allowed to transfer them anywhere. They were caught fishing without a proper license and their vehicles and fishing equipment might well have been confiscated because of it.

But back to the transfer.



Dozens of volunteers came out on various days to help with the process. Before school began in September, many of those helpers were kids. They worked tirelessly to net, hold and carry fish that probably weighed about twenty to thirty percent of their own body weight. This photo was snapped in late August when the air and water were considerable warmer.





It was a much easier catch for this guy than for the young girls. He seemed to be having a pretty good time.





Another one nabbed.





Volunteers worked together to transfer the fish from the net into a sack.





Frank guesstimates this one to be at least 25 pounds (11kg)





Once the salmon is bagged, it's hooked onto a pulley to make its way to the top of the dam. Now you know what the bird seed sack was all about in the previous post.





Volunteers at the top of the dam are there to receive the fish, record the numbers and to weigh the ones they feel are particularly large.





The salmon is carefully removed from the bag, placed into a basket and passed over to waiting hands in the water at the top of the dam. The fish is held in the water for a while as it regains its equilibrium - necessary after being suspended upside down for the trip up the pulley system.

One after the other, fish are handled in this fashion and then released. I witnessed many of them eventually slide right back down the dam. Perhaps some of those had already completed the business of spawning. Perhaps they were just too exhausted to make it. I hope that most of them did though.

Sadly, these numbers only represent a fraction of the fish which were trying to make it over the dam, this year. There are simply far too many salmon - more every year. They are probably putting a dent in the trout population, which is disappointing to many - especially the trout.



And speaking of trout, the amber globes seen in the previous post was a close up of salmon eggs. The roe is often collected and kept as bait for trout fishing. When anglers are walking back to their cars with the salmon in tow, the roe will often spill out along the path behind them.

This less than two minute video shows the transfer process for one salmon from start to finish. Please keep in mind that I had a large, heavy lens on the camera, and when switched to video mode, it does not allow me to hold the camera close to observe through the viewfinder (my preferred means of snapping shots). I had to extend the camera and lens out in front of me to look through the live capture window instead. Therefore, there are a few portions which are quite blurry while I struggled to maintain focus and avoid the shakes. I apologize for that and hope you enjoy the video anyway.



More photos coming up in a few days.

Spawn-taneous Salmon

Frank lives across the road from a swift-running creek that pours into Lake Ontario. Every year, around this time, Chinook salmon make their way from the lake, up the creek and over the dam's fish ladder to spawn. The ladder was built for trout which travel the same route each year - many of those in spring. Salmon are considerably larger than trout and these guys, some weighing close to 30 pounds, are simply becoming too big to make it up the existing ladder.

The community raised funds to build a bypass channel. and work was to get underway earlier this summer. As with many well-intentioned plans, the work was delayed for one reason or another and before they had a chance to begin, the salmon began making their way to the ladders to jump. This was in late July - much earlier than their usual run.

Since so many of the salmon are unable to make their way through the ladder, plans were made to net the larger fish, and lift them over the dam, into the channel above. The hope is to transport up to 5,000 fish in this manner over the next few weeks.

Of course, many of them are small enough to keep on trying their way through the ladder. I snapped these photos when the crew was still setting up their station, but not yet actively transporting salmon.



In the days preceding their approach at the dam, dozens of salmon were working their way upstream. Those tails can really propel them against the current.





Fins and tail are all over the creek - almost giving them the appearance of sharks.





Every now and then you can see one of them flip up in the air. Frank took a look at this photo and pointed out that there's a lamprey eel also seen in the above photo. And here, I thought it was a piece of pipe sticking out of the cement wall.



The next few photos will illustrate how difficult it is currently for these fish to find their way up to and through either of the two ladders.



This one made it up onto the concrete dam in between ladders.





Most of them will eventually right themselves and work their way back into the water. Others will perish on this platform.





This one overestimated his jump and landed above the ladder with a sickening thud. He was back in the water in just a few seconds to rest and then try again.





There are occasional mid-air collisions.





Some of the time they get it right. Here's a very short (12 seconds) video of some jumps.





This one made it.





As did this one.





And this one.


Of course not everyone is there to watch and photograph the salmon. Some are there to catch them. Many of those will also release their catch.



I watched as this young boy caught and released this Chinook.





He carefully removed the hook and lifted the salmon over deeper water.





He held onto it for a few moments to allow it to regain its strength and equilibrium, and then released it back to its freedom.


Now the downside of all of this, is that not every fisherman is as caring and conscientious as this boy. Some leave the carcass on the shore after removing her eggs (to be used for trout fishing). And many salmon simply do not make it to their desired destination. The result is a very smelly walk alongside the creek. And as much as I don't care for the scent of decomposing fish, Benny kind of feels the opposite way about it.

While I was busy photographing some of the above images, Benny was busy getting up close and personal with a dear, departed fish. And by that, I mean that he took great delight and pride in rolling in it.



It's a good thing Benny likes to be in the creek. He needed to rinse off some of the excess Eau de Poisson.





And when he got home, a much needed shower was in order.


I hope you enjoyed watching the salmon with us. Before too long, I'll have some photos of the salmon transfer for you.

Gone Fishin'

Thank you to everyone who left such kind comments for my son, Jeffrey on my last blog post. Your good wishes, kind words and prayers are all very much appreciated.

Below are a few random photos taken over the past couple of weeks. They're accompanied by lyrics to which I thought they were suited. Please remember to click on each photo to enlarge.

A couple of weeks ago, Frank and I went fishing, not too far from his home. We drove along lovely, hilly roads to get there.

"May the trail rise up to meet you. May your heart rejoice in song. May the skies be fair above you as you journey ever on."
(Ever On ~ Dan Fogelberg)

Along the way, we happened upon a small herd of donkeys. We stopped so that I could take a few photos.

"Ill never be your beast of burden. My back is broad but its a hurting"
(Beast of Burden ~ The Rolling Stones)

We caught a few trout and a couple of perch, some of which we kept for dinner. This trout would have ordinarily been deemed too small to keep but it was already injured and bleeding so it became part of that night's dinner.

" Yes, you've been fishin' all the time. I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too. I bet your life, your lovin' wife, catch more fish than you. Any fish bite, got good bait. Here's a little somethin' I would like to relate. Any fish bite, you've got good bait. I'm a-goin' a-fishin', yes, I'm goin' a-fishin', I'm a-goin' a-fishin' too."
(Fishing Blues ~ Henry Thomas)

We stood on a narrow, rocky shore. Occasionally, we waded into the water to steer clear of brush while casting.

"I want to feel myself go under, baby, wWhere the deepest river bleeds. I want to feel it pull me under, darlin' until it drops me to my knees. I want to know that I can find you when there's no more eyes to see. In this cool, clear water runnin' you'll come runnin' to me"
(Cool, Clear Water ~ Bonnie Riatt)

As the day wore on, I decided to wander up the road to see what was around. The sun was dropping low in the sky, casting lovely, golden light on all that it touched.

"Like a tree in the meadow wind, she will bend to take you in now. Makes no difference where you been. That's the way she feels about you. That's the way she feels about you."
(Sunlight ~ The Youngbloods)

A chorus of honking led me to a flock of geese, which gathered in the sparkling sunlit water.

"When we arrived on Gillis Mountain you could see for miles in the light. The whitecaps on the sea of blue sparkled like diamonds in the night."
(Gillis Mountain ~ The Rankin Family)

A couple of Canada Geese took to flight.

"Smell the sea and feel the sky. Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic."
(Into the Mystic ~ Van Morrison)

Along the shoreline, where trees meet the water, golden sunlight dazzled my eyes from behind the trees.

"Silent sunlight, welcome in There is work I must now begin."
(Silent Sunlight ~ Cat Stevens )

Across the road, I found this fence, charming it its pastoral setting.

"Let me be by myself in the evenin' breeze, and listen to the murmur of the cottonwood trees. Send me off forever but I ask you please, don't fence me in." (Don't Fence Me In ~ Bing Crosby)

Once back home, it was time to take Benny for his second walk of the day. Here he is being his usual, adorable self.

"Obedient and true-loyal through and through. A fuzzy reflection of you. If you are hurt, I will lick it. If you feed me, I won't forget it. If I mess up, just rub my nose in it. You let me out to sniff around, do my business and stretch out, and I always come running for you. I look cute at the end of your leash - your adorable beast." (Your Adorable Beast ~ Bobby Bare Jr.)

The fresh spring water rushes along the rock-strewn creek, babbling and bubbling as it does.

" Like a rock, I was strong as I could be. Like a rock, nothin ever got to me. Like a rock, I was something to see. Like a rock."
(Like A Rock ~ Bob Seger)

Much of our walk hugged the edge of the creek. At that magical hour, when the sun was low in the sky, this tree marked the edge of enchantment.

"And it goes on and on, watching the river run. Further and further from things that we've done, leaving them one by one. And we have just begun watching the river run. Listening, learning and yearning to run, river, run."
(Watching the River Run ~ Kenny Loggins"

Taken from beneath the limb of a cedar, these branches appeared to be gnarly figures dancing to the music of the wind.

"There's a world far away from the one we see. There's a dream I will never let go. One thing is certainly true. This moment's for me and for you. So while there's not a thing that we can do, let's dance."
(Chris Rea ~ Let's Dance)

These tiny, yellow Trout Lilies were growing along the pathway. The flower gets its name from the similarity between its mottled leaves and the markings of the Speckled Trout.

"And yesterday I saw you kissing tiny flowers, but all that lives is born to die. And so I say to you that nothing really matters, and all you do is stand and cry." (That's the Way ~ Led Zeppelin)

✿

A Sun Track Mind

It's almost spring in Southern Ontario. This means that in the past week we've had temperatures ranging from -20C (-4F) up to a lovely high of 16C (61F) on Friday. We've experienced rain, snow, quick thaws, floods and glorious, golden sunshine. We've also welcomed a revisit from Daylight Saving Time.

Before too long, the snow and ice will be completely gone and signs of new growth will be apparent. Despite a return to colder temperatures this week, it's encouraging to be on this precipice between winter and spring.

Last week, I took one of my semi-regular trips to visit Frank at his neck of the woods. It takes me three hours by bus and train, but it's a relaxing trip as long as I have a good book to read, and I usually do. My camera is typically on my lap throughout the trip, just in case something catches my eye.




Not far from my departure point, the tracks cross the Credit River. In summer, its waters are dotted with boats and wind surfers, but throughout the winter, its icy surface takes on many patterns, whether snow-covered or in semi-thaw conditions. (please click to enlarge)




As we pull out of Toronto's Union Station, a peek through the window across the aisle allows me to capture a shot of the St. Lawrence Market. (please click to enlarge)




The tracks hug the shoreline of Lake Ontario for much of the trip. (please click to enlarge)




The railroad tracks are shared by both commuter trains and cross-country railroads. The green GO Transit car where I sit, is reflected in the window of the VIA Rail train as it zooms by. (please click to enlarge)




Once I've settled in at Frank's place, the excitement begins. We'll usually grab some lunch, get a bit of shopping done, play a game of cribbage and before you know it, Frank is ready for a nap. Oh yes, I just exhaust him! Once he awakens, Benny is ready for his late afternoon walk. It's my favourite time of day, this time of year because the sunlight offers beautiful visuals like this gateway to the magical south cedar grove. (please click to enlarge)




At this bend in the creek, a beautiful tree bows to meet the rushing, swirling waters below. The frigid air weaves lacy patches of ice close to the water's surface. (please click to enlarge)




A closer look at the ice-covered twigs. (please click to enlarge)




This tree has a tiny wooden ledge nailed into it. It's one of the many spots where Frank leaves a peanut for the squirrels throughout the winter. One day, finding himself without a supply of peanuts, he added a nickel instead. This of course was left unappreciated and untouched by the woodland critters. Sometime after that, just for fun, I added a dime to his coin but it disappeared shortly afterward. The snow has recently thawed considerably, and as we approached the tree, I asked Frank if he'd ever found the dime on the ground nearby. As I asked, I looked down and saw it shining back up at me. It's now repositioned on the ledge beside the nickel. (please click to enlarge)




I've photographed this grove of cedars before, but I find it irresistible when the golden sunlight hits it just so. (please click to enlarge)




Along the shoreline, the golden tree trunks shimmer in the icy waters of the creek below. (please click to enlarge)




On our way back out of the grove, the sun glows from behind these kissing cedars. (please click to enlarge)




Just outside of the grove, the full setting sun brightens the path ahead of us, transforming icy patches into gold. (please click to enlarge)

In a few days, I'll post some photos of the results of last month's flood which carried great chunks of ice out over the morning walking path.