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.

Mockingbird

I had about three hours to kill last week - the time spent on the city bus and subsequent train ride traveling eastward to visit Frank. I usually pack a book to read and this time was no exception. Having recently returned one to the library, I looked around my own bookshelves for something to bring with me, and settled on the classic To Kill A Mockingbird. I had recently promised my son, Jeffrey that I'd reread it soon, so it was an easy choice. I'd have well-written entertainment for my trip and I'd fulfill a promise to my son. I settled into the first chapter when a little girl and her mother stepped up into the bus and took their seats near the front.

The child, no older than four, had a scowl on her
round, little face and when glancing up at her mom, I could see that it mirrored her own features and expression. The girl whined loudly, and demanded something from her mother. The parent outdid her child with volume, telling her that she could not have any chocolate until after the bus ride. Something in her tone and in her child's immediate growled response told me that the chocolate would be making an appearance soon. A few more growls, and half-hearted refusals on the mother's part and the little girl was presented with a large cream-filled chocolate egg. She continued to hold the angry expression on her face while unwrapping the candy, and it stayed with her well into eating it.

A few minutes into gobbling up her treat, the child caught my eye. Her angry expression never left her face as she watched me. I feigned a scowl in response, and her own scowl deepened. My eyes narrowed, and as I turned my face away from her slowly, I shot one more quick look at her and then smiled. She continued to frown as she watched closely for what I might do next. I dealt her a series of smiles and winks, and as her face began to soften, she returned the smile. Suddenly, she was quite lovely.

I continued making faces at her from across the aisle and several rows of seats, and she continued trying to return whichever expression I tossed her way. When I winked, she blinked and eventually resorted to holding one eye open with her fingers, allowing the other to blink a wink in return. I hid my face behind my hands and reappeared with a smile. She did likewise. I blew her a kiss and she obliged with one of her own. Occasionally she'd do something different, and I'd imitate her instead. We continued to interact like this off and on during the course of the trip. Her loud, raucous laughter was quite infectious and several passengers were watching and enjoying her amusement. Occasionally I'd get back to Jem and Scout who waited patiently for me within the pages of my book, but it wasn't long before I'd look up, and we'd continue our own little mockingbird game.

Eventually the mother nudged the little girl to let her know that their stop was coming up. The child continued to wave, make faces and blow kisses at me as she stood and waited for the bus to stop. She yelled a series of loud "good-byes" to me and she kept looking back at me as she descended the steps and exited the vehicle. The child left feeling cheerful - she skipped as she headed to their next destination.

I was pleased with the encounter which made the trip pass more quickly, but one nagging awareness disturbed me about the child's and my engagement. During the full hour trip, her mother never once looked over to see who was occupying her child's attention. Not once. She never looked at me while her child laughed out loud, blew kisses, waved and shouted her good byes. Unless the mother stole a sideways glance while I was catching snippets of my book, she had no idea who was holding her child's interest. As a mom, I found that troubling on a couple of levels.

Safety alone would dictate that a parent would want to see who is attracting her child's attention. Was I some potential child molester, or just an innocuous mother of long-grown children, out to acquire her child fix for the day? I would have expected to catch a glimpse of the smile that a mom can't usually hide, when her child delights in a silly game with a stranger. Mostly, I was concerned about why this mother would not show the sense of pride that most of us tend to feel when someone is clearly enjoying one of our offspring. Why didn't she show her little one that she took delight in her playfulness, her improved mood and her interest with some unknown stranger on the bus? I tried not to speculate about the relationship between mother and daughter. I hoped that perhaps the mom was just having a rough day, and therefore lost in her own thoughts. I tried not to entertain conjecture about the kind of mother she might be to her daughter, or what kind of person the girl might be twenty years from now. I do know that despite the smile on the child's face, I felt sad after they left.

Over the next several chapters of my book, I began to think of this little mimic along with Harper Lee's symbolic mockingbird. I hope that her songs generally evoke pride and affection in her mother. I hope that she feels cherished, and her innocence protected. And I hope she grows up to remember her childhood joyfully.

"Mockingbirds don’t do one thing but make music for us to enjoy. They don’t eat up people’s gardens, don’t nest in corncribs, they don’t do one thing but sing their hearts out for us. That’s why it’s a sin to kill a mockingbird."


These photos were all taken in the wooded area just a few steps away from Frank's place. Please remember to click on them to enlarge.

When we go walking in the evening, we ease our way along the banks of this creek. The ice and snow that covered the land just days before, yielded to the warm spring sunshine causing the water to rush by rapidly.



Further along the creek, we enter the area that leads to the cedar grove. The area is beautiful and its approach always feels to me, to be the edge of enchantment.



Early the next day, our morning walk brings us to a calmer part of the creek, every bit as beautiful.



We soon arrived at the dam and fish ladder, where we paused to see if the trout were jumping their way upstream. Every now and then we'd see a quick flash of movement as one of them made its approach. I focused the camera where I had already seen a couple of fish splashing about. Frank warned me that it would take a lot of luck and patience to catch one of them. He then launched into a story about how he had spent many hours with his own camera over the years, in hopes of getting a shot at a jumping trout without ever having had any luck. "It takes luck and a lot more time than we have right now, Hil. Let's keep going. Benny is getting impatient" His voice droned on in the background...



By the time he finished his first sentence, I had already snapped this one. I suppose I had the luck. I didn't need much time. ;)




Here it is up close.




Moving along, the spring melt revealed some of last year's growth. Here's some Queen Anne's Lace, long gone to seed.




Close to the water's edge, we happened upon this natural wooden sculpture, being examined closely by one of the season's first flies.




Clearly beavers had been hard at work.

I'll post some more photos in a few days.