(Conversation with Bob Mallard starts at 42 minutes)
As sort of a rebuttal to the recent podcast with Kirk Deeter that I recently highlighted, Tom Rosenbauer had Native Fish Coalition's own Bob Mallard on to discuss the objectives of the native fish movement. I'll let the discussion speak for itself.
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| Native lake chubsucker, Florida |
Recently, Tom Rosenbauer hosted esteemed writer, angler, TU higher up, and "conservationist" Kirk Deeter on The Orvis Fly Fishing Podcast, for a conversation that aired under the title "Have we gone too far with native species?".
My immediate thought was, well, what the f***?
I have long been fans of both Rosenbauer and Deeter both. But the conversation that they had was wrongheaded, inaccurate, and inflammatory. It also shows why anglers can be horrible conservationists. Anglers, without fail, have preferential views about the fish they target. These views can get in the way of conservation when the fish an angler likes to catch the most is a non-native species. In the podcast, Deeter talks about his love of brown trout. I think we all get that here, I adore brown trout. They're one of my favorite fish to pursue. But Deeter goes on to propose that they are not an invasive species because "they didn't swim across the ocean, themselves, and climb into these rivers".
Apparently Kirk Deeter is completely unfamiliar with what scientifically defines an invasive species, because if brown trout had in fact swam across the ocean and colonized American water on their own, they would in fact not be invasive at all- that would be a natural range expansion. If what Deeter says were taken at face value, no species considered invasive today would actually be invasive. Cane toads in Australia, cichlids in Florida, wild pigs throughout the world... these are invasive species, the poster children for the concept. None of them got there on their own. We put them where they are. Brown trout are invasive too and for the same reasons. Let's get that fact straight. Connotations and feelings aside, brown trout are invasive. In many cases they have huge negative impacts on the ecosystems they've been introduced to.
This lead to the insinuation that native fish advocates support the complete, wholesale eradication of brown trout. Some individuals may believe that, sure. I'm not one of those. I've never even met someone that espouses that. That's the straw-man that has been hoisted by those scared to lose their (insert favorite non-native fish). We know that eradicating all non-natives is unrealistic and unnecessary. I am currently among the leadership of the Connecticut Chapter of Native Fish Coalition. NFC is sort of the rising stare of fish conservation in this country, certainly on the East Coast, with growing membership and new state chapters rising up. If we are the face of native fish conservation today, then take our stance as the example. We don't advocate for the removal of brown trout or other invasive species where it is unlikely to result in successful restoration (i.e. the damage is already done), or where they are too socially and economically important. That frankly leaves most places nonnative fish currently exist, so is it really too much to ask to have a handful of fisheries set aside to remove non-natives and restore native fish? I don't think so.
Apparently that's too much for Deeter and Rosenbauer, who go on to cast doubt on the use of rotenone in native fish restoration. Rotenone is a classic issue that shouldn't be an issue. If you are unfamiliar with the topic, please read Ted William's thorough examination here. In a comment on the podcast, Williams gave a list of success stories tied to the use of rotenone: "Saved by rotenone from certain extinction was the rarest trout in the U.S., the Paiute cutthroat, native to only 11 miles of California’s Silver King Creek in the Carson-Iceberg Wilderness of the high Sierras. In fact, that rotenone project has been the only restoration effort that returned a native salmonid to 100 percent of its native habitat. Rotenone has safely and successfully slowed loss of Gila topminnows, steelhead, all five species of Pacific salmon, kokanee salmon, Yellowstone cutthroat trout, westslope cutthroats, Bonneville cutthroats, Lahontan cutthroats, Colorado River cutthroats, fluvial Arctic grayling, landlocked Arctic char, redband trout, rainbow trout and brook trout, to mention just a few. And it has prevented extinction of desert pupfish, golden trout, Volcano Creek golden trout, Gila trout, Apache trout, greenback cutthroat trout and Paiute cutthroat trout."
Deeter dismisses the idea of attempting to reintroduce native grayling to Michigan, something that would only be attempted in select waters and would hardly impact trout fishing in the state at all, per the state's plans. Rosenbauer then brings up the National Park Service's use of rotenone on the Upper Gibbon in a tone dismissive of the strategy. Lacking any familiarity, Deeter deflected to the use of gillnets to remove lake trout from Yellowstone Lake, an action which he commended. He then stated that "it's really a case by case basis".
Mr. Kirk Deeter... I have no expectation at all that you will ever read this, but I'd like to address you directly anyway. That is how it is for us! It is and always will be a case by case basis, for all of us involved in native fish conservation. This idea that native fish advocacy has any sort of absolutes is absurd. That accusation gets levied at NFC all the time, and yet we routinely steer away from addressing watersheds with established wild non-native fish populations because they are already either too messed up to save or too socially important. The Farmington, the Swift, the Deerfield, The Upper Deleware, the Ausable, the Manistee, the Madison, the Green... on and on goes the list of rivers nary a serious native fish advocate would bother even bringing up because we know there is no point. You've created a strawman, a charicature of us, a lie, and it hurts what we are all trying to accomplish. This is anti-conservation.
To answer the question posed by the podcast: clearly, no. We have not gone far enough with native species. And that is made more clear by the ignorance espoused in this podcast by two respected individuals that should know better. For angler "conservationists" still not to know these facts, about what makes a species invasive, about rotenone, about reintroduction projects- that's all a problem.
I'm a fishing guide. I'm a fishing writer. I make a big chunk of my living off of fish and quite often non-native fish. But I recognize that in my role as a conservationist, I routinely need to separate my enjoyment and my business from that work. Having carp, pike, huge largemouth, big browns, and all manor of other fish not native to CT around is good for business and fun for me but when it comes down to it, if it makes sense and is feasible to wipe out non natives from a stream or pond to save or restore and at-risk native species, I'm going to say yes to that because that's the right thing to do as a conservationist. I think that thought process is lost on most anglers. That isn't necessarily their fault, a lot of this is still very new and it hasn't made it in front of everyone yet. Unfortunately Deeter and Rosenbauer were no help at all in this podcast. NFC's own Bob Mallard will be on the podcast soon for a rebutal, and I will post the podcast here when that happens.
Until next time,
Perched culverts are a hot topic in fish conservation and for good reason. Culverts are a problem. In many cases they prevent fish passage, cutting off populations from substantial segments of historic habitat and limiting genetic exchange within and between streams. Fish passage is the most well known and talked about issue with culverts, so I don't feel there's much I can add to it that you haven't heard trot out at least once already. Instead, I would like to offer my opinions and some of the facts on why perched culverts and other small, man-made fish passage barriers, might actually be a good thing..
Nonnative fish benefit from restored fish passage just as much as native fish do, sometimes to the detriment of those native fish. There are some clear examples, particularly in Western US native trout populations. Barriers both natural and man made have either saved or allowed for the reintroduction of Gila trout in Arizona and New Mexico and have prevented the loss of native golden trout in the upper Kern basin in California. Matthew Miller discusses one such example in his fantastic book, Fishing Through the Apocalypse, a case in which ash from a wildfire lead to the extirpation of brown trout in a stream, allowing for the reintroduction of native Gila trout. Non-native species were still present further down the watershed, so a dam was built in order to stop them re-colonizing waters that were soon filled with the fish that had evolved there in the first place.
The question becomes; is the trade-off of an artificial barrier being created or simply being allowed to remain present in a stream a justifiable conservation strategy. This is something Miller ponders, and he and I both come to the same conclusion. "The lines become blurry, but I’ll take the native fish. I want there to be as little human influence as possible in the Gila wildernesses, but we’re going to have to make decisions..."
How much of an issue is this in Connecticut, though? Well, things get muddy here as it is genuinely very hard to find an example of water that isn't inhabited by nonnative fish. But there are some examples. A tributary of the Farmington River where a perched culvert separates brown trout from an allopatric brook trout population, a barrier on another small stream that separates slimy sculpins from brown trout, and a dam that keeps largemouth bass and bluegills out of brook trout and redfin pickerel habitat are all examples I've personally seen. There are lots of small culverts and dams in CT, and each should be looked at as its own case. Is it worth maintaining a barrier to separate non-native from native, or will the benefit removal or re-construction outweigh that? Those questions need to be asked every time a barrier is under question to be removed or rebuilt.
Another point came to me a couple months ago as I surveyed potential wild trout streams in Northeastern CT. One stream I came across that had a confirmed brook trout population as recently as 2012 was simply so small I had a hard time imagining how they could persist there. It was clearly very intermittent, as most of the longer, slower pools were filled with leaf litter and sediment and no more than a few inches deep- the flow was not substantial enough to clear out sediments. I walked a long length of it without seeing brook trout or any particularly ideal brook trout habitat, at least not permanently habitable brook trout habitat.
Then I came to a culvert pool. Though not perched, this culvert featured an angled concrete floor that created sheet flow, only about 1/3 of an inch deep. This isn't good fish passage, though in the right conditions a brook trout might successfully make it above. More notably, like many culvert pools this one featured a deep, round pool, the only one I'd seen so far that would certainly persist through the sort of droughts we've experienced here in CT in recent years. Unsurprisingly, I found the pool to be loaded with brook trout. Apparently the stream's entire population or at least most of it was occupying this hole.
Until next time,
There's a stream in Eastern Connecticut that I've fished a handful of times. It's character intrigued me from the first visit. This stream's gradient is very steep, and though it is a very tiny drainage, years have given it the time to cut itself a deep and treacherous ravine. Moss covered ledge encapsulate the stream's course, sheltering it from intruders. Fishing this stream requires rock climbing and squeezing around boulders. Remaining stealthy is paramount, because the species that dominate this ravine are shy and easily disturbed. Connecticut's last surviving native salmonid finds this dark and secluded habitat to their liking. This is brook trout habitat. Because Salvelinus fontinalis are the dominant of the three fish species found in this stretch of tumbling water (blacknose and longnose dace being the other two), I chose to name this place Char's Ravine.
Salvelinus: char
fontinalis: living in springs
In need of tranquility one mild December afternoon, I found myself scrambling into Char's Ravine with a fly rod in my hand and just one small fly box in my bag. This was all I needed to catch a brook trout here and most other places brook trout live. The fly on the end of my tippet was predictable... the Ausable Ugly would get down into the deep plunges where the brook trout here hold. It's undulating grizzly hackle and muskrat tail also provide an attraction factor that fish feeding on macroinvertebrates and small fish find very appealing.
As I made my way upstream fishing each plunge pool, the place seemed dead. I wasn't spooking any fish that I could see, and certainly not catching any. I'd almost forgotten that this was normal here, that I'd never caught anything below a certain small water fall. These fish exist in genetic isolation. There is little opportunity for new fish to enter the gene pool from another stream in the watershed. This could be a problem over an extended period of time.
I was starting to get worried that this stream's population could have disappeared when I finally caught one. Small but vibrantly colored, this little char will live its whole short life in the ravine. It may never exceed 8 inches, and if it were to attain that size it would likely be in its fifth or sixth and final year of life. In such a stream, 8 to 10 inch brook trout are rarer than a 20 inch brown trout in the Farmington.
I continued fishing up the ravine until I'd brought my third brookie to hand. I was satisfied with that number and had potential snake habitat to scout out in the area, so I waved goodbye to Char's Ravine.
As this winter has progressed, I've been getting back to my roots a bit. I'm taking the chance to explore new small streams and visit old ones that I haven't been to in a while. It feels good to get back to basics... small water, small gear, small wild fish. This embodies so much of what got me into fly fishing. I've still not fished even a tenth of the small streams with wild trout potential in this state. Let's see how many I can get to before year's end.
