I’m so far behind on, well, practically everything. I want to write. I want to use my cameras. I want to process the photos that are sitting on my cameras. But I haven’t done any of that. I’ve only spent time thinking about it and then being too exhausted to do any of it at the end of the day.
I’ve been feeling completely overwhelmed lately, and the stress ended up causing bunched muscles in my back and pulled muscles all the way around to my chest. I honestly was worried that there was something significant wrong and spent far too much time trying to find anything different between one side of my body and another. I even went so far as to cause a bit of light bruising across part of my lower ribs. In the end, I realized it was stress mediated and managed to get to a chiropractor, after many years absence from any chiropractic care, for one adjustment before heading out on the road.
Why all the stress? At one point I was performing four jobs at once. I was acting as the Section Heads for two different areas, and one of those people was doing a bit of work for the third who was also away, so I ended up doing that work as well. All that while there was no one to backfill for me, because….. I guess the powers that be above just think that things will magically get done.
I was had this trip booked months ago; I pretty much always fly up around the 10th of September for a few days, but this year I extended the trip because an all-day sockeye recovery meeting had been set for the Monday, which also meant I had to get in there on the Sunday prior. So I was up in the Bella Coola Valley from Sunday the 8th until Friday the 13th.
There are site trips that wind me up a bit, this is never one of those. Visiting this particular facility for a few days is always a bit of a gift and tends to reset me, remind me what this program can be all about. The people, the fish, the community, the environment, and all the connections within. It’s not like I slow down when I am here. I used to have time to spend a few hours at the end of each day and go for a drive and take some photos of the magnificence of the valley. I didn’t even have time for that this year, and I was here for a full week. That’s not a bad thing, it just highlights the fact that there is either more to do, or I’ve become more deeply entwined in both work and in a bit more after work activity.
Case in point. Most years, when the staff vacates the facility, I would have some dinner and curl up with my computer, or maybe go for a drive and take some photos until it was getting dark, and then curl up on the couch and process photos. This year, after a full day meeting I, and two others, grabbed our waders and joined one of the staff on an after-dinner walk up a river and to a set of falls. It had a purpose within the framework of work (could the falls be made passable to allow fish to access potential spawning habitat above?), but was also a few hours enjoying the environment, talking, trying not to fall in the often fast moving water and on the slippery rock within and fill one’s waders, and appreciating life in general. Whenever I follow Chris on a creek walk I have to constantly remind myself that he has 9″ in height on me, so when he stands comfortably in deep water, I will fill my waders. And today he had the advantage of being in a drysuit.
Saloompt Creek is one of the systems the hatchery enhances for Chinook and chum salmon. Although I’d fished for chum with the crew, that was down on the lower section and I’d never been to the first falls, a barrier to salmon passage. It was an absolutely magical little canyon and most of it was walked in the water itself, since the sides are so steep. Just lovely, and it set the tone for the rest of the week. Leaving the rest of the world behind while in this wonderful little corner of the province. (click on any image to view in lightbox)
I usually arrive sometime midweek and leave on a Friday or Saturday. But this trip I cam in on a Sunday and it also happened to be the annual Fall Fair. I didn’t intend to go, I didn’t think I’d know anyone. But I stopped along the highway and walked to the gate before turning back to my vehicle. Before I’d reached the car I heard my name called out, Marie, taking a break before heading back in. We chatted for a bit and I ended up walking back to the fair with her and paying the entry feel And I was glad I did. There were a number of people I’d not have seen otherwise; several retired hatchery staff as well as a retired community advisor, a current community advisor, and a resource engineer, all three of which were at the meeting the next day, but it was a nice opportunity to catch up for a bit outside of work.
I hung around for a bit before leaving to take what eded up being my only opportunity to drive down into Bella Coola proper and visiting the estuary for a few photos. I love this area, but I was sad to see the burned pilings where once an old abandoned net loft used to provide photo opportunities for me every visit. Arson, I hear.
After those two days, it was time for some physical work, three days on the river. Tuesday on the Upper Atnarko, Wednesday on the Lower, then back to the Upper for Thursday, and three quarters of a day at the hatchery on Friday before heading for the airport and hopefully a flight out instead of a bus ride.
The Upper Atnarko usually means a very long day, and a big chunk of it is travel time. It takes almost two hours before we are on the river. After driving the entire length of the Valley, we turn off onto the Tote Road, a track that is driven at extremely low speed because it is filled with holes and boulders and much of it cuts across a scree slide. It’s an interesting drive. Halfway up, one of the trucks is parked and everyone piles into the second truck with all gear, nets, raft, coolers, sampling equipment, shotgun, and so on. Then we drive another 20 minute or so and leave the second truck at the old line cabin. The raft and all equipment is carried to the river’s edge and we walk to the first set.
After the first set we raft to various points along the river and one or two divers drift the net down to the next set spot where we sort through what gets hung up in the net. We kill ripe females and one ripe male for each ripe male, and extra ripe males for the egg takes back at the hatchery. The day is filled with hard work, good conversation, jokes and laughter, a fair bit of net mending from snags, an uncomfortable number of grizzly bears, seven in all that first day.
Most of the bears we saw were while we were pulling nets or moving down the river, so, since fish always come first, I only managed one bear shot this first day on the river. It’s not a great shot, but it came with some creepiness. We yelled at these three bears trying to cross the river where we were pulling a net of fish in, and they eventually moved off an out of site. But about 20 minutes later, as we were finishing up, I heard a sound. We were on the edge of the river, on a narrow strip of gravel. A sand bank cut straight up, about three feet, and immediately on top of that, and going back about 8-10 feet, was tall grass. In other words, we were completely blind to anything against our backs. I thought I was perhaps being hypersensitive to sound, but then a second small snap cause Blair’s head to jerk a little, and we looked at each other….yes, there was a bear somewhere out of sight, but too close for comfort. The four of us waiting for the sampling to be finished turned and yelled into the grasses while Blair pumped the shotgun barrel up and down, making metal clicks. We finished up and got out of there, and never saw the bear that was presumably watching us. I can only assume that it was the same three, though there were enough others that day that it may not have been.
We continued on, taking some green females and males and placed into tubes to float down the river with us, for holding back at the hatchery. When we finally reached the pull out point where the first truck was left, two of us went up to retrieve the second truck from upriver. When we returned, all of us hauled the gear up the steep slope, the fish in the tubes last; they were run up the slope and placed into the transport tank for a bumpy ride back to the hatchery. Two hours later we were back at the hatchery and putting the eggs to bed and finishing the day up at about 7:30pm. Eleven and a half hours, that’s a fairly long day in the field.
It’s a lot of work for a relatively few fish. But it’s rewarding work with dedicated and very hard working people.
Tomorrow is the Lower Atnarko, a slightly shorter and slightly less strenuous day.