Casting For Shadows

At one time, spring was ushered in each year by anglers fishing for Atlantic salmon alongside the storied Penobscot Salmon Club. For generations, hardy fishermen braved shelf ice and numbing water temperatures in hopes their rods would bow and to witness an aerial display from a silver bullet fresh from the sea. The first salmon hooked and netted would be that year’s presidential salmon and was delivered to the White House—a tradition that first began in 1912.

That custom of the presidential salmon ended due to water pollution in 1954. It was reinstated in 1981, only to be terminated again in 1993 because of declining wild Atlantic salmon populations. Spring Atlantic salmon fishing ended completely in 1999.

Salmon fishermen are a hardworking and stubborn breed. They have organized, lobbied, raised money, and raised awareness in their concerted effort to restore the Atlantic salmon to the Penobscot, Narraguagas, Pleasant, Machias, East Machias, and Dennys Rivers. Yet the noble work by many individuals and entities, including a myriad of salmon clubs and the Maine Atlantic Salmon Commission, has had heartbreakingly dismal results.

Restoring Atlantic salmon has proven about as doable as navigating Class 6 rapids in a rowboat.

The truth is, the halcyon days of wild Atlantic salmon fishing in Maine are gone and will likely never return. All the money spent, all the stocking of hatchery-raised fish, all the dismantling of dams and restricted fishing and habitat improvement won’t bring them back to previous numbers. A truly wild Atlantic salmon may no longer even exist. Studies and DNA testing to determine what constitutes a wild salmon—and whether hatchery-raised fish have diluted the gene pool—have proved inconclusive.

It’s hard to be optimistic when you read the history books and discover that the decline of returning salmon started in the late 1800s. Today, all Maine rivers combined clock less than 2,000 salmon returning to spawn. Only 961 returning adult salmon were counted on the Penobscot River at the fish trap at the Veazie Dam in 2007—even after upwards of a million tiny fry and 600,000 six- to eight-inch smolts were stocked that year. Such a poor return for all that effort makes the chances of ever seeing a self-sustaining run of 7,000 returning adult salmon seem implausible.

My cold detachment may be because I only fished for Atlantic salmon on the Penobscot for one year. It was a somewhat somber affair, with only a few steadfast anglers on the river. My fishing companion insisted that there was nothing quite as electrifying as catching a sea-run Atlantic salmon­—and once hooked up, I would be hooked for life. So I stayed and cast my salmon fly into the current and mended the line back in over and over. I caught nothing, except the distinct feeling I was watching the end of an era tumbling downstream through the rapids and riffles and settling into the pools thin of salmon. Spring Atlantic salmon fishing was closed the next year, in 1999.

Yet Maine’s die-hard Atlantic salmon fishermen still haven’t given up. In 2006, despite continuing low runs of fish, an experimental fall fishing season was created in specific areas on the Penobscot. This is for fly-fishing only, using barbless hooks, and all salmon must be released having never left the water. A public hearing took place on January 24, 2008, to discuss replacing that fall season with a traditional spring season this May. The proposal states when a total of 50 salmon had been caught and released, the season would end. It’s a far cry from the days of the presidential salmon, but it is still something. There has been no decision about this proposal at the time I write this.

There are several ways to view this proposal. The Penobscot River has been stocked with hatchery-raised fry and smolts for over 100 years, so an argument could be made that the river is a “put and take” fishery, not unlike ponds and lakes in Maine stocked with trout, so a 50-fish season is certainly reasonable. Studies show the mortality rate of hooked and carefully released salmon is very low. But, many fishery biologists and others believe that long-term management goals would be compromised if just one salmon returning to spawn were to die due to fishing. Still others feel it’s time to reward those who have worked so hard for salmon conservation and recovery by allowing them to once again lean against the strong current while finessing a salmon fly, even if the chances of success are minimal.

I say, let the fishing begin. Chances are it won’t happen this spring, but hopefully someday casting into the swollen and rolling spring waters of the mighty Penobscot will become a reality once again. And maybe then I’ll finally get to experience the haul of a sea-run Atlantic salmon on the end of my fly line.

Brad Eden is an artist, writer, Registered Maine Master Guide, and owner/editor of the online magazine www.uplandjournal.com.