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THE FUTURE OF FISHING IN CANADA - TWO PATHS CONVERGE IN THE FOREST - For the past half dozen years, the United Nations has voted Canada the best country in the world to live. The global body uses things like education, health care, and quality of life to make its decision. If it ever adds fishing opportunities to the list of criteria, it might as well award the distinction on a permanent basis. Canada is the second largest country on earth, behind only the new Russian Federation. It covers a staggering10 million square kilometers. The giant northern nation spans six time zones, and encompasses everything from warm, temperate, Carolinian landscapes in the south … at a latitude parallel to northern California … to treeless tundra in the far north. Within that massive dominion, Canada contains over one-seventh of all the fresh water on earth. |
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It is not surprising, then, with its rich and abundant natural resources combined with a relatively small population of some thirty million people, that many have speculated the twenty-first Century will belong to Canada. There would be little disagreement from anglers who have long, lovingly, looked north for some of the most accessible and spectacular fishing opportunities. Friendly, Foreign and Near … has been the nation's tourism slogan for much of the past decade. But will the catchphrase apply in the future? And will the fisheries be there … in the same quantity and quality? It all depends. Robert Frost, the great American writer, once remarked when he came upon two paths in the forest, he took the less traveled one. He said it made all the difference. Canada is at a crossroads in the use and management of its fisheries. How those fisheries will fare in the next century will depend on the path the country chooses. If it takes the traditional, well-traveled route, with liberal limits and seasons, based on scant or no scientific data, against a first-come-first served-tragedy-of-the-commons backdrop, with neither federal or provincial fisheries blueprints … let alone adequate funding … many managers believe it will fail miserably. Ironically, Canada's blessing … an over-abundance of resources … is also its curse. With so many lakes and rivers, it is as easy for politicians, promoters, and tourism agencies to sell, as it is for anglers to believe, that Canada's fisheries are inexhaustible. They are not. One needs only to look to the Atlantic Grand Banks to see a poignant reminder. They supported the single, greatest fishery the world has ever seen. When Jean Cabot explored this area shortly after Columbus discovered America, his crew had difficulty getting water in the wooden barrels they tossed overboard. They were so full of cod. Within living memory, cod schools were measured in miles long, wide, and deep. Today, the Canadian Federal Government is spending billions of dollars to pay east coast fisherman not to go to sea because so few cod remain. If we can deplete the single greatest stock of fish in the ocean, we can surely do the same to lakes and rivers. A uniquely Canadian problem is the length of time it takes to grow fish. In far northern Arctic waters, it's almost unimaginable. In magical places like Great Bear, Great Slave, and Kasba lakes, huge, trophy trout prowl the depths. Fish weigh 40, 50, 60 or more pounds. These fish were born when Babe Ruth was smacking home runs out of Yankee Stadium. They were adults when the Second World War was raging. When we kill one of those behemoths today, on purpose or inadvertently, In-Fisherman Magazine will be planning it's 22nd Century Special Edition, before a trout born this year will have a chance to replace it. Even much further south, it takes time to grow a Canadian trophy. In most lakes and rivers, it's laughable how many 12-inch smallmouth you can catch. Ten, twenty, thirty, or more a day. They pester you while you cast for bigger bass. These foot-long dinks weighing about 14 ounces, have yet to spawn for the first time; and in most tournaments, they're barely long enough to weigh in. Yet, these same smallmouth, had they been born in Tennessee or Kentucky, would weigh in excess of four-pounds. A typical Canadian lake trout lake grows trout and sustains harvests in the range of FOUR OUNCES an acre a year. Conservation officers routinely see an entire year's trout production lying beside ice fishermen in a single afternoon patrol. Even the most productive bass and walleye waters grow fish at rates of only one to three pounds an acre a year. That's a far cry from the double digit pace of warm, southern, American reservoirs where the fish prosper year round. Being blessed with an abundant resource … albeit an extremely slow growing one … carries another curse. When stocks are fished down, or collapsed, they typically take decades … if not centuries in the far north … to recover. The well-traveled-route-theory of fish management says we'll stock when problems occur. But stocking is rarely the answer. The west coast salmon fishery has proven that. The number and vitality of returning salmon has declined precipitously, in direct proportion to the number of wild fish that have not been allowed to spawn and the number of naïve, inferior, hatchery fish that have been planted in their place There are three other obstacles with the stocking-will-solve-our-problem hocus pocus. One is that a gullible angling public is usually only to eager to buy the simplistic dogma. The second is that as a management tool, stocking corrects problems of recruitment, not harvest and exploitation. Indeed, if hatchery's are the solution, then we should allow the forest industry to indiscriminately clear cut the forest as fast as they can saw … so long as they build tree nurseries and plant tiny seedling to replace the massive giants they cut down. See the folly. Finally, because Canada measures the number of her lakes, not in tens of thousands or even hundreds of thousands … but in millions … having enough money to ever stock or restore more than a handful of fisheries is fantasy. There is not enough money in the free world for an endeavor of that proportion. Let alone in a country where, as in most democracies, health care, education, welfare and even the military steal the political limelight … and the lion's share of the public purse. To be successful in the future, Canada will have to maintain and enhance the wild, natural fisheries with which she has been blessed. To adopt any other approach will be to court disaster. For these reasons, together with rapidly increasing leisure time, unsurpassed disposal incomes and angling technology unthought of even five years ago … not to mention industrial development, global warming and acid rain … many fisheries managers in Canada are wondering out loud if they are not simply monitoring the decline. One of the most vocal is Dr. David Schindler. Schindler is a Rhodes Scholar, recognized as one of the world's greatest living freshwater ecologists. He is the person singly most responsible for proving the harmful effects of phosphates in the 1970s and 80s, lobbying for their removal, and restoring lakes and fisheries like Lake Erie to their former glory. Schindler twice has been awarded the equivalent of the Nobel prize for ecology and he warns about the fate of the Boreal Forest … that huge swath of the Canadian Shield holding most of the productive walleye, muskie, northern pike, bass, and trout water. According to Schindler, Canada's boreal forest has functioned for over 65-million years like the Amazon basin, albeit with far fewer plants and animals. He predicts that this ecosystem will collapse within the next 50 years. For anglers, he says that means lakes without fish … or fish too poisonous to eat. For scientists like Schindler, the salvation of Canada's fisheries lies in choosing Whitman's less traveled route. Indeed, many fisheries managers believe it is the only hope. The less traveled route is the path of special regulations … minimum, maximum and slot limits … that allow for the controlled, selective harvest of smaller fish, while protecting the long-lived, prime, brood stock. The selective harvest principles that In-Fisherman magazine popularized years ago. Examples abound: the lake trout regulations found throughout much of the Northwest Territories, northern Manitoba, and in places like Whitefish Bay on Lake of the Woods; the catch and release channel cat regulations that protect the magnificent whiskered giants of Manitoba's Red River; and the high minimum muskie length limits on quality waters like Lake of the Woods, Eagle, and Lac Seul in Ontario. But the examples are too isolated. And for them to work, anglers have to cooperate. As soon as the muskie world discovered and descended on Lac Seul in the early 1990s, for instance … as it did a decade earlier on Wabigoon … the fishery appeared to change. Within a few years, it was taking twice as long to catch a muskie half the size. The fish are getting smarter, some folks say. Perhaps. But, I doubt it. For the past twenty-five years, I have lived and muskie fished on Lake of the Woods, and the number of fish I've seen with major facial wounds, blind eyes, and oozing sores around split fins … the result of improper netting and handling … has increased significantly in the past five years. Famed muskie angler, Dick Pearson has seen the same thing. For special regulations to work … and they do … good intentions aren't enough. The fish have to survive. That means using one treble hook … or preferably one or two singles … when you've casting and trolling for muskies. It means when you catch one, you cradle it in the water while you snap off the hook points, lickety split, with a pair of bolt cutters. And you don't drag the fish back to the resort to take ego shots, and prove to everyone that you're a hero before you "release" it. Similarly, when you find a school of big walleye in 40, 50, or 60 feet of water, you pull away and look for shallower fish. You don't jab needles into their swim bladders, fizz them, and honestly expect them to live. If only it were that simple. It's the same thing with giant crappies that suspend in deep water in the winter. One ice hut operator in the Sabaskong Bay area refused to drill any more ice holes last winter. Too many dead slabs … the result of uneducated or unethical anglers … were clogging them up. As the human population swells and fisheries deteriorate elsewhere, Canadian lakes and rivers will continue to feel the osmotic onslaught. Kevin Costner's character in the movie, The Field of Dreams, was right when he said … if you build it, they will come. In Canada's case, God already has. The pressure on many lakes far exceeds their capability to support it under normal rules and regulations. As more and more anglers flock to Canadian waters, tensions are also bound to rise. They're already apparent in some border areas. Resident Canadian anglers are exerting tremendous political pressure to protect and have formally allocated what they believe is their sovereign right. In areas like Northwestern Ontario, where non-resident visitors catch a disproportionate amount of fish, resident are digging in their heels. Their concern is that as harvest meets and exceeds sustainable levels, natural resource agencies will either cut seasons and limits … or worse yet, do nothing and let the fishery degrade. But since non-resident anglers harvest the majority of fish, residents view them as the problem. Differential seasons and limits, that favor residents over non-residents, as occurs across North America with hunting, is a reality looming on the horizon for fishing as well. Ironically, though, as the resident / non-resident issue heats up, the debate isn't being lost on Canadian First Nations. (Editor note: In Canada, Indian tribes are referred to as First Nations.) "Wait a second," First Nation leaders are saying. "You guys have got it all wrong. The fish don't belong to either one of you. They're ours." Unlike in the United States, where conquered Indian tribes were eventually forced to sign treaties following years of war, Canada's history of dealing with aboriginal people has been considerably more peaceful. Indeed, Canada never waged war with its aboriginal people. Instead, Canadian treaties are agreements of settlement and co-existence. For certain, they contain wording, negotiated as they were centuries ago that is as unclear and ambiguous today as treaties in the United States. But just as in America, the Supreme Court of Canada is rendering far more decisions in favor of the aboriginal interpretations than of the Federal or Provincial Governments. The results have been profound. As recently as this fall, the Supreme Court of Canada decided that the Mi'kmaq tribes in New Brunswick and Nova Scotia have a treaty right to lobster fish in the rich waters of the Canadian Atlantic without regard for Federal or Provincial seasons, limits, or quotas. The decision, coincidentally, was rendered when the lobster season was closed to protect the spawning crustaceans. When First Nation fishermen rushed out to exercise what they viewed as their re-established right, their boats and lobster traps were vandalized, buildings on First Nation reserves were burned, and violent confrontations between native and non-native fishermen flared. The scenes were reminiscent of the shield wielding, leather clad, riot police who protected Chippewa fishermen in Wisconsin while they speared spawning walleye in the spring. As Canada moves into the new millennium, more aboriginal court challenges and more uncertainty is certain. Already, legal notice of multi-billion dollar claims for compensation, as well as total control and management of some of Canada's most famous fisheries, have been filed by First Nations people. How it will all unfold is anyone's guess. If First Nation leaders, Federal and Provincial Governments, tourist operators, resident anglers, non-resident anglers, and industrial users can't park their vested self interests and cooperate … the resource will be sacked and pillaged … and everyone will lose. On the other hand, if those with a stake iwork together, the future could dawn brightly. To be certain, every one involved in Canada's fisheries in the next millennium will learn the meaning of the ancient Chinese curse … may you live in interesting times. Bassmaster classic winner, Guido Hibdon, stood on the stage at the annual Kenora Bass International tournament a few years ago, and told the thousands of spectators what it was like to fish on Lake of the Woods for the very first time with his son Dion. "Every time I came around the tip of an island," he said in a hushed voice, "I expected to meet God." For God's sake, let hope we get it right. Article printed in the In Fisherman March 2000. A note from the Boss's. Everyone who enjoys fishing in Northwestern Ontario should be thankful for the work of the Northwestern Regional Fisheries Advisory Committee completed in 2001. The committee was led by Gord Pyzer who was the district manager for Kenora at the time. I would go so far to say it would not have been accomplished if not for Gords perseverance. We all owe him a great deal of thanks. I am thankful that I was able to be a small part by working on that committee. For the most part the limit reductions were applauded by fisherman traveling to the area. Some bitched about them but if we want a quality fishery it is our only hope. The possession limits were reduced as follows Species 2000 2001 Walleye 6 4 with only 1 over 18.1” Northern 6 4 with non between 27.5’ to 34.4” Small Mouth 6 4 with no harvest between June 1-30. Crappie 50 25 Perch No limit 25 Muskie 1 48” 1 over 54” We have had phenomenal fishing on Lake of the Woods the last few years mainly because of very strong year classes. I am convinced the work of the advisory committee had a positive impact on the fishery. We must be aware that as more users fish the lake, we must be prepared to manage for a quality fishery. Betty and Jerry Fisher |