How many times have I stood on the banks of a stream, casting a line to salmon that may or may not even be there … wiping my runny nose and wondered what the heck I was doing standing there trying – hoping – to catch but a glimpse, a momentary glint of silver moving through the runs and riffles of a holding pool?
How many times have I tried to convince myself that this is what salmon fishing is all about?
All I know for sure is that when I’m standing knee-deep in the fast-flowing waters of a river or stream somewhere, casting my two-handed spey rod to a salmon, I’ve always felt happy and content.
Whenever I did get a fish on, the whole world stopped for a few brief moments while I was fighting the fish. I have spent many an hour casting to little more than shadows, to little more than a glimmer of hope, and, upon occasion, have set my hook into the power and fury of what felt like a runaway locomotive. I have lost as many, if not more, battles than I have won and I have enjoyed each and every moment spent fishing for the ever more elusive trout and salmon of our rivers and streams.
The salmon runs seem to be happening and the fall salmon fishing season is now well underway. However, the very fact that sometimes half a dozen or more anglers, in relatively close proximity to each other along a river bank, can cast for hours without so much as a single strike among them, would seem to indicate, at least to me, that the fish are no longer there in the numbers they used to be.
The politicians, the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, the commercial fishery, the First Nations fishery and the sport fishery can put whatever spin on things they want, but it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that the continuously declining runs of the past 10 or so years are a definite indication the salmon runs are in serious trouble – very serious trouble – everything from climate change and global warming to pollution, over-fishing and poaching is affecting salmon stocks and neither the politicians, the DFO, the commercial fishery, First Nations or the sport fishery have the will or inclination to do anything other than continue to put more and more pressure on declining fish stocks.
What does it take to make people understand?
It should be obvious to everyone involved in the commercial, First Nations and sport fisheries that they must take it upon themselves to curtail their fishing – before it’s too late.
Things have to change. But I’m not so sure that we can rely on the federal government to make any changes for the better.
They slipped a lot through the Bill C-38 Omnibus Bill and now they are trying to put through more legislation in the House.
If nothing else, I know that something inside of me has changed.
I can no longer, in good conscience, cast my line for fall-run salmon that are already under too much pressure.
Not until I know for sure, at some point in the hopefully near future, that the salmon are returning in numbers large enough to absolutely guarantee that there will always be salmon returning to the spawning grounds of the rivers and streams of our province.
It has been three years now since I asked myself what the heck I was doing trying to catch salmon that already had the cards stacked against their even making it to their spawning grounds — never mind making it there in numbers significant enough to ensure their survival as a species.
No, I won’t be going back any time soon, not until the salmon have come back.
