Chapter 15
Fishing
Through the Years
History of Fishing in the Mohawk Valley Part I
Fish to Catch - Species Identification & Prefered Habitat
Fishing Tips and Techniques
| Spin Fishing the Headwaters and Tributaries |
Discovery Trips
| Mohawk River (Complete) | Tributaries |
| Jack's First Trout Fishing Adventure Was a Big Deal |
History of Fishing in the Mohawk Valley
Glaciers are tough on fish. They kill or drive them away. So there were
no ancient species in the Mohawk Valley when the glacier melted 10,000
years ago. However, after the glacier receded, and the glacial lakes and
rivers that covered much of the valley started warming up, fish started
moving in. No one knows what kind of fish arrived first or what species
were here when man first arrived, but archaeological sites in the Mohawk
Valley contained the bones of brook trout, suckers, eels, perch, walleye,
bullheads and catfish.
Early accounts from Europeans indicated there were salmon in the Mohawk River. Turns out the nearest salmon waters were Wood Creek and Fish Creek: tributaries of Oneida Lake. The only salmon in the Mohawk Valley were dead when they arrived; brought here to trade by the Indians that lived near Oneida Lake. Even if salmon came up the Hudson River---and there is no evidence they did---they couldn't get over the 70-foot falls at Cohoes.
. . . and at the mouths of tributaries.
Plenty of Fish for the Taking
Although
the Mohawk River was not a major fishery like the Hudson River where spawning
shad and stripers were taken by the thousands, there were still plenty
of fish for the taking. The most abundant, and apparently preferred fish
by the earliest inhabitants, were suckers. They traveled up the river and
tributaries during spring spawning runs and congregated at the mouths of
tributaries, and near riffs, rapids and below waterfalls. In addition to
the Mohawk itself, such tributaries as Schoharie Creek, Cayadutta Creek,
Caroga Creek, East Canada Creek, West Canada Creek, Sauquoit Creek and
Oriskany Creek were productive fisheries. These and such fish gathering
waters as Cohoes Falls and Little Falls were the locations of some of the
earliest villages. Most were seasonal villages that date back thousands
of years. 
From earliest times fish were taken with nets,
weir-baskets, set-lines and spears. Woven hemp fiber was used to make cord
for nets and lines. Nets were placed across streams or pulled through the
water. The bottom of the net was weighted with stones; the top supported
by floats made from goldenrod pods (galls).
Rock V dams were constructed across riffs.
Migrating fish followed the outstretched arms of the dam into a woven weir
basket placed at the apex of the dam. Although these weirs were used
to catch a variety of fish they were especially effective for taking American
eels. (So effective they are still in use today on the Delaware River.)
Set-lines baited with worms, fish, or chunks of
meat were strung across the river, at the mouths of tributaries,
and in pools below rapids and waterfalls. Bait was secured to the ends
of these multiple-line rigs with gorges and hooks carved from bone. A gorge
was made by sharpening both ends of a thin straight bone and tying the
line to the middle. The gorge was imbedded in a piece of fish or other
bait. When a fish swallowed the bait and tried to swim away the gorge turned
sideways and lodged in its gullet.
Hooks varied in size, depending of course,
on the size of the fish being sought. Hooks could be used for both live
bait and chunks of meat. Most of these ancient hooks were barbless, so
some live baits had to be tied on the hook.
Barbed spear points were also made from animal bone.
When attached to sturdy wooden shafts these "harpoons" were used to harvest
spawning fish concentrated below waterfalls and rapids.
Many of the fish-oriented villages and fishing methods were still in
use when Europeans came to the valley.
Europeans Changed Everything
After Europeans (or their descendants) removed forests to plant crops and
damned tributaries to run mills, everything changed. Cultivation runoff
filled many streams with silt that covered fish eggs or completely destroyed
spawning grounds. Removal of forests also increased water temperatures
for much of the year. Dams prevented the upstream migration of fish during
the spring and fall spawning runs, and restricted stream flow during the
summer. (Silt and dams also eradicated mussels and clams)
Dams prevented the upstream migration of fish and restricted stream flow during the summer.
During the summer months when the water level went
down and temperature went up, many of the tributaries and most of the river
was very poor habitat for trout. Brook trout survived below falls, in the
deepest pools and where springs and spring-fed tributary streams provided
cold water year round. Suckers, walleye, perch, eels and bullheads fared
better, but their habitat was also limited.
Villages grew up around mills on the tributaries
creating more human and animal waste, plus pollution from tanneries, sawmills,
fulling and carding mills, distilleries and in time cheese factories. Hundreds
of miles of streams that were once clean, cool and well oxygenated became
trickles of colored water between milldams, devoid of oxygen . . . and
fish.
Small Tribs Get Better - River
and Big Tribs Gets Worse
When the technology and funds became available to build dams and mills
on the river and larger tributaries, industry (and even some villages)
on many of the smaller tributaries ceased to exist These streams recovered
rapidly, and supported good populations of brook trout and suckers.
While the smaller tributaries became less polluted, the river
and larger tributaries became even more polluted. Soon after the Erie Canal
was completed in 1825, communities and industry grew at an exponential
rate in the Mohawk Valley, increasing pollution in the lower reaches of
the tributaries and in the Mohawk River. Around this time some new fish
moved into the valley.
New Fish on the Block
For thousands of years smallmouth and largemouth bass were present in the
Great Lakes and St. Lawrence Valley, but not in the Mohawk Valley. When
the Erie Canal connected Lake Erie to the Mohawk Valley, these big sunfish
started moving east. By the mid 1800s bass were being caught in the Mohawk
River and in some tributaries. .
Brown trout were brought to New York State from
Europe in 1883 and stocked in Mohawk Valley streams in the 1890s. Rainbow
trout were transported from the West Coast to New York in 1874 but weren't
stocked in the Mohawk Valley until the early 1900s. These imports could
tolerate warmer and more turbid water than brook trout, so they were stocked
in the upper reaches of the river and in the less polluted stretches of
tributaries. Many former brook trout streams became brown trout water;
a few supported rainbow trout.
Although Carp were accidentally "introduced"
into the Hudson River in the 1830s, they weren't stocked in the Mohawk
until the late 1800s. They flourished in all but the most polluted waters.
By the early 1900s, despite the introduction of
more tolerant species, all but the upper reaches of the river were practically
devoid of trout as were such polluted tributaries as Oriskany Creek,
Sauquoit Creek, West Canada Creek, Cayadutta Creek, and sections of East
Canada Creek and Schoharie Creek.
. . . . more to come
Jack's
First Trout Fishing Adventure Was a Big Deal
Like most grandparents we don't see enough of our grandkids. So, when they
come for a visit we try to make the moments memorable. We do a fair amount
of hiking and canoeing, and manage to spend a few hours fishing at our
neighbor's pond. I try to gear some of these activities to their age. Two
- first fishing trip to the pond. Three - ride in canoe. Four
- four-mile hike. Five - wade across river. Six - paddle
canoe. Seven - canoe-fishing. Eight - canoe through the rapids.
Nine?
What would a nine-year old think was cool?
The answer came while I was wading in cold, clean water and catching a
bunch of small rainbow trout in Steele Creek. This summer when nine-year
old grandson, Jack Nicholson came to visit, I would take him stream trout
fishing for the first time . . . and make it a big deal.
The night before the big day, we got our fishing
gear, clothes and wading shoes (sneakers) ready. I woke him up early the
next morning before anyone else was awake and we snuck out of the house.
We drove to Herkimer where we had breakfast at Denny's, and then drove
up to Ilion Gorge and waded into Steele Creek.
I had chosen a roadside pool that allowed plenty
of room to cast because this was also the first time Jack would be casting
with an open-faced spinning reel rather than a spincast outfit. Much to
my surprise, he learned to cast that ultralight spinning rig in just a
few minutes. After running a gold spoon through the pool a half-dozen times
without results, I told Jack it was time to get back in the car and go
upstream where I hoped we would have better luck.
As we walked out of the creek, Jack said,
"Grandpa, even if we don't catch fish, can we stay here for a couple hours.
This place is cool."
Was I on a roll or what?
Further upstream we fished a couple of pools where
I had caught a number of rainbow trout in the past. The first pool was
shielded by overhanging branches, but after a few side cast demonstrations,
Jack lobbed that lure right under the branches into the pool. No takers.
The next pool was below a waterfalls where I had caught an 11-inch rainbow
trout. A big fish for Steele Creek. With great form Jack dropped the lure
into the pool a half dozen times without results. There were a couple of
twisted loops on the reel, so I took the rod and cast the lure near a ledge
at the upper end of the pool and handed the rod to Jack. He cranked the
reel and a small rainbow trout took the lure. Jack reeled it in. He had
caught his first stream trout. I could see it in his face. His happiness
was tempered by the fact that he hadn't cast the lure that caught the fish.
When several more casts produced nothing we climbed up to the road and
walked back to the car.
Jack didn't want to leave. He was having fun walking
in the water, casting and watching minnows. I told him when the fish don't
bite in one place, we go somewhere else. Somewhere else was Moyer
Creek in Frankfort Gorge.
We parked at the first pull-off in the gorge and walked
down to the creek. Jack's second cast produced a 6-inch rainbow trout.
He was elated. He caught another fish in that pool and five more as we
waded up to the first bridge. None of them were over 7-inches. Didn't matter.
He caught them all by himself.
While Jack was tying the laces on his water-laden
sneakers, I made one cast and caught a minnow that was smaller than the
lure. Jack insisted we take a photo of that minnow. That was the only photo
we took of a fish that morning. (Fortunately, the photo was too dark for
anyone to see my catch of the day.)
Along the way I told Jack it was time to learn to
use the action of the rod to cast the lure. I demonstrated how the rod
tip bent back when the rod was raised sharply backward and how it snapped
forward when brought forward. His first attempts at using the rod action
to cast the lure went well, but as he tried to increase distance the lure,
more often than not, ended up in the trees overhead. As we approached the
pool beneath the bridge I told Jack to give me the rod. He looked disappointed
until I told him if he cast, he'd probably catch a car. We both laughed
at the thought of the fishing rod following a car down the road.
We called it quits at noon, and went back to Denny's
for a make-your-own kid's sundae. Like I said, I wanted to make his first
stream trout fishing trip a big deal.
Just for the record. During this same visit we took
a 5-mile hike in the woods, ran the rapids twice, went pond-fishing, canoe-fishing
and saw Star Wars - Attack of the Clones. When Jack's parents asked
him what he enjoyed most about his vacation he said, "Fishing for trout."
Then he added with a big grin, "You should have seen Grandpa's minnow."