Abusing a resource
“It is the law of salmon, as of all fish life, that the mature salmon return to the place of their birth in order to perform the grandest act of their nature – the perpetuation of the species.
“The cradle of the salmon is the head-waters of some river or brook, often many miles from the ocean.”
This is just a small part of the coverage on our salmon as given in the 1883 Hatton and Harvey book “Newfoundland, its history, its present condition and its prospects in the future.” It’s a curious, almost poetic view of the salmon. And it continues:
“When at from one to two years of age the parr, the young of the salmon, change into smolt, they experience an irresistible longing to visit the ocean and, prompted by instinct, they start for the far-off sea, braving all the dangers of the journey.” The obligatory tour full of life-lessons for 19th-century youth, no doubt.
The authors’ poetry however, quickly drops away when they inform their readers of the abuses visited upon this “king of fish.” They were writing 135 years ago but the reckless disregard for nature as described in their example (sourced from the report of a fisheries protection officer some 10 years earlier) still shocks today.
The fisheries officer added, “I cannot conclude my report without referring to the state of the salmon fishery both in the rivers and in the bays and creeks of the island, which through the cupidity, selfishness and, I may add, ignorance on the part of the fishermen is slowly but very surely, becoming exterminated ...
“In the bays, fleets of nets are sometimes laid down, sometimes twenty and forty and even fifty at a time, and every inlet stopped; and if the fish should, by any chance be able to escape the first barriers, the rivers are so obstructed by weirs, traps, chains and nets (the latter frequently stretched right across, and at close intervals) that it is a wonder the fishery has not long since come to an end.”
Not enough sense
The rapacious fishermen described clearly did not have sense enough to see that, if nothing else, they were endangering their own good fortune in being able to have access to such a resource — such a nutritious food item — as the salmon. Yet, in other respects, those were wily guys. Let me give you one more comment from the abovereferenced fisheries officer: “Some of the river obstructions are generally removed before the anticipated arrival of a man-of-war (that would be a British naval vessel on fisheries patrol duty) only to be replaced when she leaves the neighbourhood.”
Horrendous methods
C.H. Palmer’s well-known 1928 book “The Salmon Rivers of Newfoundland” was directed to the angler. It is full of enthusiasm for the sport and was packed with essential information on rivers, guides, licences, season and more. At the back of the book, Palmer included an extract from the colony’s game laws. Merely citing one small portion of that extract will give you an idea of what kinds of river vandalism must have been out there:
— “Unlawful to take salmon, trout or other inland water fish (except eels) by means other than rod, hook and line; spearing, hooking, sweeping, jigging or raking and hauling with any net or seine prohibited in inland waters, as is also the use of lime, explosives or other deleterious compounds for killing or catching fish of any description in inland or coastal waters.” Lime? How dastardly does that sound!
Back to the Hatton and Harvey book. The authors also quote a well-known sports-angler of the day as saying that “notwithstanding local laws and proclamations the rivers of this country are disgracefully abused by nets set across their mouths till the wretched fish are almost exterminated ... all the large breeding fish are captured and only a few grilse escape” ...
There is an amusing little reference to our trout which H-and-h gleaned from Cormack (he of the 1822 crossisland hike): “So unsophisticated were the trout from their being unacquainted with man that they took the artificial fly merely by holding out the line in the hand without a rod.” Clearly, proper introductions had been overlooked.
This demi-paradise
With the first (but doomed to fail) railway project underway on this island when the abovementioned book was published, wild and virginal Newfoundland was about to be happily introduced to the world: “Here is a new and boundless hunting-ground for sportsmen when the railway has pierced these solitudes and rendered this savanna country, with its abundance of game, accessible.”
Sweetness and light
Patrick Mcgrath was a journalist and on the occasion of the accession of King George V, he authored a book, “Newfoundland in 1911”. As it was this colony’s contribution to the literal flowering of the empire’s component parts on such an august occasion, it was largely what we today would call “sweetness and light”.
Of the salmon, Mcgrath wrote in part, “The best salmon fishing is to be had directly the salmon start going up the rivers, generally about the second week in July. A good catch ... can be depended upon, given favourable weather and no east winds in the middle of July. Grilse weighing from five to six pounds are even more plentiful and afford good sport. Next come the sea-trout ... an ordinary catch is five to ten dozen, scaling from one pound to five pounds.”
“In the bays, fleets of nets are sometimes laid down, sometimes twenty and forty and even fifty at a time, and every inlet stopped; and if the fish should, by any chance be able to escape the first barriers, the rivers are so obstructed by weirs, traps, chains and nets (the latter frequently stretched right across, and at close intervals) that it is a wonder the fishery has not long since come to an end.”
— Excerpt from a fisheries officer’s report from the 1800s