Watch these pages for a critter story by local resident Charles Clark. Story relates back to when the rattler, wolves and other creatures were roaming the area in the wild in the Lewiston & Porter areas.

Niagara Critter Encounters

By Mike Gillis
Click on Pictures

One April night back in 1986 a couple of guys whom I worked with and I decided to go smelting after the 3-11 shift. We arrived at Artpark at around midnight. The parking lot was empty so nobody else was there. We put our waders on and got the nets and buckets and lantern out of the back of the truck. As we proceeded towards the stairway we looked down over the bank to the shoreline. I shined my powerful flashlight to see if anything was down there. There was. I don’t know what it was, but it resembled a Black Panther. It was scavenging along the shoreline. Probably eating dead smelt. Suddenly it looked up at us with it’s glowing eyes. Then it let out this blood-curdling scream that echoed off the gorge walls. Then it ran northward down the river and out of our sight. We all looked at each other and almost in unison said, "“What the hell was that?" I know what you’re thinking. I’m sure that there aren’t any black panthers wandering the gorge. I didn’t hear of any escaping from any regional zoos. Probably the nearest thing to a panther that has been in the gorge in the past hundred years is a puma.

The nearest known wild puma around here inhabit the hilly woods in the southernmost southern tier and Pennsylvania . I thought maybe a wolverine? I think that wolverines let out a scream like that. And they are very clever and sly. They do predate at night. But I doubt that there is any known wolverine around the Niagara Area. I think the nearest wild wolverines are in the northern part of Ontario . It wasn’t a fox or a coyote, though there are several of these predating along the Niagara River , because it didn’t have a bushy tail. To this day, I don’t know what that creature was.

We filled our buckets with smelt that night. We stayed pretty close together. No one wanted to go wandering off into the quiet and mysterious darkness.

Another creature encounter I had was also back in the mid eighties. Daryl and Kevin Balcolm and I put Daryl’s boat in at Fort Niagara early one Sunday morning. As we headed out toward Lake Ontario , we noticed what seemed to be a huge tree branch floating in the middle of the river. Upon closer inspection we saw that it was a huge whitetail buck. It must have been an eight pointer. So if anyone questions whether deer swim across the river between the states and Canada , I can assure you that I have witnessed it.

One scary critter encounter I had was on a hot summer day back in the mid sixties. My family was having a picnic at Whirlpool State Park . I wandered off by myself to walk down and look at the gorge. I found a nice grassy spot down near the railing to sit down. As I leaned back to take in some sun I glanced over to the left of me. About five feet away there were two fat timber rattlesnakes coiled. They were taking in some sun too. Needless to say, I didn’t stick around there for very long. Of course, they probably disliked my company as much as I disliked theirs. I’ sure that there are still some rattlers and copperheads living in the more inaccessible parts of the gorge. They don’t like to be where people are. But there is plenty of food for them, including river rats.

When I was a kid I used to walk down to the Lewiston Sand dock to go fishing. I would take and old railroad lantern with me because the fish and eels bit really well after dark. My black dog Butch would accompany me. Back then the dock was quite eroded and the Coloured cartoon of irate rat paddling a canoe water had created chambers beneath the concrete. These chambers made ideal homes for rats. In the shadows created by my lantern along the shoreline I would notice these black creatures sneaking out from beneath the dock and grabbing dead shiners from the water’s edge. Some of these rats were as big as cats, and I’m not exaggerating. My dog was a pretty big dog and a hunter. I felt safe, fishing there, as my protective dog scared away any rats that got too close to me. I live near the lake now. One day my cat dragged a rat as big as itself up to my yard from the shoreline.

The Niagara River and gorge is a beautiful life filled natural phenomenon. There are many kinds of amazing critters along its waters. Possibly some that nobody has ever encountered live there, successfully avoiding any detection by man.

The Lake Sturgeon
Mike Gillis

There are 25 species of sturgeon. Some of these species reach a length of 13 feet. Occasionally rumors of even larger ones are heard. The Atlantic Sturgeon, found along the coasts and in the rivers of the northeastern USA have been known to weight as much as 500 lb. Fossil remains of this prehistoric fish have been found dating from 54 to 40 million years ago, some of these have been up to 25 feet long.

The Lake Sturgeon were once very abundant in the Great Lakes. During the 1880's, however, their population was severely diminished by the high demand of the market. Through the years dam construction and habitat degradation have also had a severe effect.

Thanks to the classification as a protected species by New York State, strong public support for endangered species and environmental improvement of water purity and habitat conditions, the sturgeon is now making a comeback in the Great Lakes. More and more frequently, over the past few yers, I hear of sturgeon sightings by shore fishermen along the Niagara River.

The sturgeon is a bony fish, its skeleton is made up of cartilage, like sharks, skates and lampreys. It's mouth is a sucker-like projectile structure which can be retracted when the fish is not feeding. The fish spawns in May and June in clean shallow water, such as along the rivershore. A fifty pound fish can lay between 200,000 and 300,000 eggs, a 300-pounder up to 2 million. The growth rate is quite slow, a 25 pound fish taking 19 or 20 years.

According to outdoor columnist Joe Ognibene, around the turn of the century, a common way to catch sturgeon was to place a trot-line of several baited hooks just off the river shore overnight. The next day the lines would frequently have to be towed out of the water by using mules, the fish were so heavy. Often, the fish were transported to the market in Buffalo to be sold. Ron, of Mark's Tackle in Niagara Falls.

An old River Rat tells of his grandfather spearing sturgeon six and seven feet long in the Niagara gorge years ago. Of course, there's the tale of the fisherman being pulled in and drowned by a sturgeon, as I wrote about in the story below.

More recently, Joe Ognibene told me of two sturgeon which were pulled from the trash racks of the Power Authority Niagara Reservoir, each five to six feet long, about 14 years ago. They were both then displayed at Mark's Tackle when Mark Daul had the store on Whirlpool Street. Most recently, in mid September of this year, John DeLorenzo of the Niagara River Guide Service caught and released a sturgeon at Devil's Hole estimated to weigh around 150 pounds.

Hopefully, we will continue to protect this magnificent fish and it's habitat and let it reestablish it's historic population so that in the future it will no longer be necessary to classify it as a protected species, and may be enjoyed by future generations as it once was by past generations.

References: "Methusaleh of Fresh Water Fishes-The Lake Sturgeon," The Conservationist, Nov-Dec., 1986; William A. Pierce

Strange Tales of the Niagara
Mike Gillis

Back in the 1940's and 50's, it was quite common for spear fishermen to catch sturgeon under what was the old Lewiston-Queenston Bridge.

The type of spear which the fishermen used consisted of a very long pole with a detachable pronged spearhead at the end. Part of the spearhead was an iron loop to which a strong line could be attached. The other end of the line would be tied to a rock or a tree. Upon spearing the fish, the spearhead would detach and as soon as the large fish tired, it could be retrieved by pulling in the hand line. [see spear note below]

There's a tale of a spear fisherman who went fishing down below the bridge one night. Instead of tying the line to a rock or a tree, he tied it around his waist. Well, he happened to spot a huge sturgeon coming along the shore. He jabbed his spear at it and hit his target. If the fisherman is accurate enough, he can spear the sturgeon at a spot where its spine will be injured and it will be paralyzed, thus disabling the fish from putting up a fight and making it easier for catching. This fisherman was not so fortunate. His spear stuck in the fish, but when the huge fish headed out for deeper water, it still had its full strength. It pulled the man in after it. The body of this unfortunate fisherman was found about a week later on the shoreline of Lake Ontario. The line and the spearhead was stilled attached to the fisherman, but the fish had managed to shake the spearhead loose.

Nobody knows if the sturgeon dragged him all the way down the river to the lake, or if the sturgeon shook him loose up in the river and the current took his body down to the lake.

This is one of many strange stories I've heard about our Niagara River. In future issues, I'll tell you some additional strange tales which I've heard about fishing on the Niagara River. For example, there's the one about John Long catching an alligator while fishing near the Wagon Wheel drift; or the one about Tony Mang being attacked by a llama while shorefishing near Four Mile Creek.

Spear Note: The spear picture above is typical of spear points used in the 40's & 50's. Most were handmade by fishermen at home or some were made in the local factories by the men at their jobs. The time was during and just after the Second World War.

The most popular spears were made at the old Bell-Aircraft plant on Niagara Falls Boulevard in Niagara Falls, NY. Some were fabricated at the old Hooker Chemical Company in Niagara Falls too.

Notice the barbs on this particular spear. They are stationary while the "Cadillac" of fish spears were made with what they called "fly-barbs" The fly barbs would fold in as the fish was hit, then the barb would embed itself and open in the flesh making it impossible for a huge fish to escape. These spears were made by skilled craftsmen and the worked great! Be sure to enlarge the spear picture.

Perhaps you have some strange tales about fishing on the Niagara which you'd like to tell. If so, give me a call or email your tale in writing to Mike or send to this website. You will be given full credit if we use your story.

I REMEMBER OLD CHARLIE
Mike Gillis

Where Artpark now sits in Lewiston , used to be Joe Kolano’s Dock. There was a wooden stairway going down to a wooden dock. Up at the top, Joe had a combination hot dog/bait and tackle stand. We kids used to ride our bikes down Fourth Street to go fishing there or just to hang out.

Just north of there, maybe a half of a mile, if you’re drifting by on the river you used to be able to see the remnants of what used to be that dock, and a broken down wooden tram-way going up the bank to the road above. That used to be Charlie Lonsdale’s dock. Those are the remnants of what used to be Charlie’s Boat Rental, bait and tackle business. When I was a kid, my friends and I used to spend a lot of time down there. The world was younger then and so were we, much, much younger.

We used to fish down there. We were occasionally obnoxious, but old Charlie never said a word. He would let us use a boat occasionally without charging us. We kids didn’t have much money, and Charlie knew that. Sometimes we would just hang out there, having an occasional verbal war with the Canadian kids on the Queenston Sand docks. Charlie, with his wise old eyes, behind which held a great wisdom of the lower river, and we were then too young to appreciate, just went on with his work.

From time to time, Charlie would take one of his boats and go off fishing by himself. He would leave us kids there to watch over the place. We never stole anything from his tackle shack. There was something sacred and wordless there which never would even allow us kids to think about stealing from Charlie. I think it was probably the fact that he trusted us, and we would never cross the line of that trust.

Almost every time that Charlie came back from one of his solo fishing trips, he would have at least one walleye. The other kids told me that he caught most of his fish in the Queenston drift. Souvenirs of his catches could be seen on the wall of his tackle shed on the north end of his dock. The shed no longer stands there. There were several of the heads of the many walleye that he caught nailed up there.

Charlie always used the rest of the fish for sustenance. As a kid, I didn’t think about it much, but Charlie couldn’t have made much money from that business down on the riverbank.

During the smelt season in April, some of the other kids and me would go up to Charlie’s two-room dwelling on South First Street , which has since been torn down and replaced by a large modern home. We would ask Charlie if we could borrow his smelt net. He never said no. That was back in the early sixties when you could catch a garbage can full of smelt in less than a half an hour. We would always bring Charlie back some smelt along with his net. We were in our early teens then. It was okay to stay out late at night next to a bonfire on the riverbank

I can remember his tough wrinkled hands, hands that had tied many a rig, and hauled in many a fish. I can remember Charlie’s wrinkled face, a face that had felt many a wind, both warm and cold, blowing across the lower Niagara . Mostly, I can remember Charlie Lonsdale’s eyes. They were eyes that had a great patience and tolerance, eyes that had some kind of great wisdom, eyes behind which held a great knowledge of river history and lore. Charlie had a calm voice. A voice, which I wish, could now, in these later years, tell me of some of his fishing and river knowledge.

The years passed. I grew older. My interests changed some, as they do with teenagers. Eventually I went away to college. I heard that Old Charlie died. I didn’t go to his funeral. I don’t know many people that did.

I was too young to fully appreciate Charlie back then, I don’t really know if he knew my name. Maybe I was just one of the kids’ who hung out at his dock. But all the kids, “River Rats” we were called, knew Charlie, wise, quiet, great lower river fisherman, Charlie.

If you’re down on the river someday when it’s not too crowded, sit still. If you listen very closely you may hear the ghostly echoes of kids yelling and having a good time. That’s the sound of my childhood. Through the seagulls’ yells and the currents whirlpools, and back eddies water splashing, you may hear the faint ghostly sound of a boat motor cruising towards the Queenston drift. That’s Charlie Lonsdale, his spirit still fishes the lower river.

I remember you Charlie.

VARMINTS AROUND OUR HOUSE
Mike Gillis

BE SURE TO CLICK THE PICTURES FOR AN ENLARGEMENT

Folklore is filled with stories of elves, pixies, trolls, ogres and mischievous gremlins. I will not contest there existence here. But I think that some of the true culprits behind these stories are varmints.

My wife and I and our infant daughter moved to Youngstown from the city in 1983. We bought a house a few hundred feet from the shore of Lake Ontario with woods behind it.

Little did we know that there were eyes upon us as we settled into our new home. Mischievous little eyes staring from the trees of the woods and the boulders of the lakeshore.

I enjoy feeding and identifying wild birds. In our bathroom, there was a window at the top of the wall that was located directly in front of the toilet. While sitting on the throne one could look up and out the window to see the sky. I placed a bird feeder there to improve the view while one was in the position of such solemn contemplation. It soon proved to attract all kinds of wild birds which could be observed. One evening I was sitting there and glanced up at the window. The light emanating from the room showed an interesting sight. There was a raccoon hanging upside down from the gutter feasting on the seed in the birdfeeder. That was one of the first indications of a population of little rascals living in our area.

We brought three cats with us when we moved into the house. Willis, Phyllis and Alice Gillis were there names. We have the laundry room in the back of the house. Between our kitchen and the laundry room is a door with a window in it. In the kitchen, just inside this door, is a switch which turns the light on and off in the laundry room. So one can look through the window from the kitchen into the laundry room and turn on the light to see in there. On the other side of the laundry room is a storm door going into the backyard. It is just held shut with a spring. We used to leave it unlocked so that the cats could go in and out of the house as they please. They would merely just have to push or pull the light door open and it would shut behind them.

We fed our cats in the laundry room. We kept there cat dishes with water and food on the floor in front of the sink between our washer and dryer.

I worked shift then. One evening when I got home from work at about midnight, I went into the kitchen and turned on the light to look into the back room. All three cats were sitting on top of the washing machine. They were looking down watching two huge raccoons devour their food. A cat knows better than to mess with a raccoon. An adult raccoon can weigh from seven to 35 pounds and be from 25 to 36 inches long. Northern raccoons tend to be larger than their smaller relatives down south. These two looked like 30 pounders. They can be quite vicious when challenged or cornered. The largest raccoon on record was 50 pounds.

I banged on the door and the not so little masked bandits went rushing out the back door.

The following summer, during the month of August was my daughter’s first birthday. I was still working shift so I was on the midnight shift that week. We liked to keep our storm windows open during the summer nights to get the lake breeze blowing through the screens and into the house. The evening before my daughter’s birthday, my wife, Janet, baked a birthday cake and left it on the kitchen table in front of the screen window to cool. In the middle of the night, she was awakened by a strange noise coming from the kitchen. She got out of bed and went into the kitchen to see a disturbing sight. There was a raccoon on the kitchen table eating the birthday cake. It had actually ripped the screen out of the storm window, climbed into the kitchen and jumped up on the table to get at the cake. Now this could have been a dangerous situation. A raccoon can be a nasty foe when cornered. The raccoon looked at my wife and bared its teeth with a nasty snarl. I guess my wife was thinking, “You aren’t going to mess with that cake that I worked so hard on and get away with it!” She grabbed a broom and swatted the intruder. Fortunately, it turned around and scooted off the table and back out the window. She had to discard the cake and make another one the next day. We didn’t want to eat any raccoon germs from our birthday cake.

One morning, before going to work, I took a bag of garbage out to throw into our garbage can. We had one of those big rubber cans and one of the old-fashioned metal galvanized garbage cans left over from the previous owner. When I went to put the bag of garbage in the big rubber can, I noticed that the lid was off and on the ground. I looked down into the can and there was a big ugly opossum staring up at me. I don’t know what your opinion is, but I think that opossums are really an ugly animal. I kicked over the garbage can and the creature went rolling out onto the grass. It laid there like it was dead. Opossums actually do ‘play possum.’ It is an involuntary physiological response when threatened or harmed. They will actually stiffen up and appear dead for minutes or even hours. Some will emit a foul odor to smell like they are dead. I went back into the house and had a cup of coffee. About twenty minutes later I went back outside and the opossum was gone.

Opossums are the only North American marsupial. They carry their young in a pouch like a kangaroo does.

When you live near the shoreline body of freshwater, like Lake Ontario , there are going to be varmints, and other wildlife living near you. A few years after moving into our home, my son was born. A few years after that, of course, we got a puppy. A black lab named Cubby. My two children adored, and still do adore, our dog.

One varmint, that I personally fear encountering the most, is the skunk. And yes, these potentially odorous fellows do inhabit the general area where I live. Some of you folks, I’m sure, know the feeling when your walking out to your deer hunting spot before the sun rises. It’s dark, you’re in the woods and alone, and what the hell do you do if you encounter a bear? Well, that’s how I feel sometimes during the summer when I’m walking down to the lake after dark. I know they’re around, I’ve seen them. Just beware if they raise that tail, believe me, that baby’s locked and loaded and ready to ruin your week.

Well, Cubby was still pretty much a puppy then. He didn’t beware and his week definitely got ruined. And it didn’t do much good for my week either. We had been up to Toronto all day with the kids having fun. We got home, exhausted from a busy day, at about ten in the evening. Cubby had been in the house all day. So we let him out to go water the trees. He encountered a skunk. Not knowing just what a skunk was, he went right after it. That skunk let him have it with both barrels. He came yelping back to the house and when we opened the door, he ran right through the whole house spreading that horrible odor behind him. Oh what to do now.

We had heard of the tomato juice remedy for skunk spray and we happened to have some cans of tomato juice on the shelf. We dragged our stinking puppy outside and gave him a tomato juice bath and sprayed him down with the garden hose. He still stunk, maybe 30% less, but he still stunk, and so did the house by that time. I went to my computer, got on Google, and searched for skunk odor remedies. About 10,000 websites popped up. I found what looked like a good recipe which included dilute peroxide and dish soap. I mixed up a batch of this and we proceeded to give Cubby another bath. This helped to eliminate about 95% of the odor. But, believe me, that other 5% still lingered for days and slowly faded away. If you ever use this recipe, go easy on the peroxide or you will turn your dog from being a black lab into a golden lab. We also boiled a pot of this concoction on the stove and with the help of some open windows and fans flushed most of the odor out of the house. Cubby learned a hard lesson that night: “Don’t go chasing the black kitty cat with the white stripes!”

Early on, we had had problems with varmints getting into our garbage cans and spreading the stuff all over the yard. I attached bungee cords to the tops of the cans to try to keep the raiders out. One day during a very hot week in July, I took a bag of garbage out to deposit in our large rubber garbage can. I removed the bungee cord from the top of the can and took the lid off. When I looked down into the garbage can there was a hot, exhausted raccoon staring up at me. It had actually managed to pry its way under the bungee held lid and into the can. I hadn’t opened the can in a few days so I don’t have any idea how long that poor creature had been suffering in that hotbox. I tipped the can over. Normally a raccoon would run away like a bat out of hell. This one just looked up at me with its weary eyes and stumbled off into the woods.

Elves, pixies, gremlins and trolls? There may be a few of those wandering around my yard too. However, so far I haven’t encountered any.

Fishing The River at Night
Mike Gillis

Make sure you read the "eel facts" at the end of this article.

I think that the best times to catch fish from shore are just before sunrise, and just after sunset. That is, for panfish, walleye, and bass. Of course, the best time for catching catfish is in the middle of the night.

When I was a boy, I used to hop on my bike just before sunset and head down to the Sand Docks in Lewiston. My big black dog, Butch, would accompany me. I took a kerosene railroad lantern with me. Armed with my fishing pole, a bucket and some worms I situated myself on the north corner of the dock for some night fishing.

Looking back, there were several reasons why I enjoyed fishing from the dock at night. One was the serenity. The occasional sound of gulls or a duck blended with the swishing of the rivers current. You could hear the occasional splash of a fish feeding on the surface.

As night gently spread its darkness across the scenery, an air of mystery would settle in. One by one, lights would go on along the rivers shoreline. One observation that I made was that when you're outdoors and its getting late, it still seems light out to you for quite awhile. But if you went into a lit room and looked out the window it would be totally dark out. Eventually, the darkness of the night would overcome the ability of my eyes to adjust and it would become dark. I would light my kerosene lantern.

There I would sit alone in the darkness, except for the company of my dog. Occasionally, I would see a river rat scurry between the shadows cast by my lantern. Rats thrive along the shorelines of any waterway where dead fish can be found. Dead fish are prime food for a river rat. That must be why they grow so big. Also, they are quite dark in color, they look black in the light cast by a lantern. I have no fondness for rats, they seem to epitomize filth and disease carrying rodents to me. While I was having a good time fishing, my dog was having a good time chasing these rats, keeping them away from me.

One of the things I really liked about it was the fact that you didn't know what you were going to catch next. There was this lady who lived down the street from us who just loved gardening. She had a little garden pool next to her house. She knew that I went fishing a lot. So she told me to put anything that I catch into her garden pool. That evening, Butch and I headed down to the Sand Docks. During the course of the evening I tied into something huge. Man did it put up a fight. I managed to land it. It was an American Eel. The biggest one I ever caught. That thing had to be at least three feet long. I put it in my bucket. I was around twelve years old then. I grabbed my fishing gear and my bucket with the huge eel in it and headed for the lady's house. After all, she said that she wanted me to put anything that I caught into her garden pool. It was between ten and eleven in the evening when I got to her house. I banged on the door, but neither she nor her husband were home. So I just went ahead and dumped the eel into her garden pool. It wasn't a very big pool. The size of it was really more appropriate for goldfish. The pool was situated right outside of their bedroom window. As her husband relates the story, after they arrived home late that night they went to bed. It was summer, so they kept their bedroom window open. In the middle of the night, she awoke to a strange splashing sound coming from her garden pool. She got up, put a robe on, and went outside to investigate. As she was standing, with her slippers on, next to her pool to see what was splashing, the eel popped out of the pool and wrapped around her ankle. She ran into the house screaming "There's a monster on me! There's a monster on me!"

Her husband heroically unwrapped the slimy beast from his distraught wife's ankle and slew it with a kitchen knife. She did not sleep well for the rest of the night, probably for fear of dreams about sea serpents. But there's a pleasant ending to that story.

The eel made great fertilizer for her garden. She made no further requests for fish for her garden pool.

Fishing the Niagara in the evening is a great way to pass the time. You never know just what you might catch.

AMERICAN EEL FACTS:

Every Autumn, American eels descend the St. Lawrence river on a journey toward the warm waters of the Sargasso Sea* to spawn and die, returning to a birthplace they left as many as 30 years earlier. We do not know their path nor do we understand how they navigate vast distances. The moon, stars, magnetism and an exceptional homing ability may guide them through the dark waters.

Eels have not revealed their spawning secrets; scientists do not know exactly where eels spawn, at what depth or how they behave when reunited at the spawning area. All eels from throughout their range, Greenland to Central America, converge on the spawning waters at about the same time. This is remarkable considering the vastly different distances they must travel. Northern fish leave much sooner to arrive “on time.” Despite the enormous geographic range of the species, all American eels comprise a single breeding population.

The American eel is a very unusual species:

There is only one spawning location (in the Atlantic Ocean) [Sargasso Sea]
Eel larvae are distributed by ocean currents along the eastern coast of North America
Young eel enter fresh waters (such as the St. Lawrence River) where they grow for up to 25 years
Mature eels migrate back to the ocean to spawn and die
American eel is often confused with lamprey because of its appearance. In fact, the lamprey is not an eel but a parasite fish that preys on other large-bodied fish.

From the Encyclopedia Wikipedia:

"The *Sargasso Sea is an elongated region in the middle of the North Atlantic Ocean, surrounded by ocean currents. On the west it is bounded by the Gulf Stream. On the north, by the North Atlantic Current; on the east, by the Canary Current; and on the south, by the North Atlantic Equatorial Current. It is roughly 700 statute miles wide and 2,000 statute miles long (1,100 km wide and 3,200 km long). It stretches from roughly 70 degrees west to 40 degrees west, and from 25 degrees north to 35 degrees north. Bermuda is near the western fringes of the sea. *The Sargasso Sea is the only sea without shores."

"The very salty Sargasso Sea is often regarded as being lifeless, though it is home to some seaweed of the genus Saragassum. This seaweed floats en masse on the surface there. The Sargasso Sea also plays a major role in the migration of the European eel and the American eel. The larvae of both species hatch there and go to Europe and/or the East Coast of North America. Later in life, they try to return to the Sargasso Sea to lay eggs"

ADVENTURES IN SMELTING

American Smelt

I got down to the river to try my luck several times but I didn't have much success this year. I figured that the warm winter and spring that we had might cause the smelt to run early this year. So I first went down to Artpark in the middle of March with my Tuscarora friend, Shorty. We didn't have any success. While we were fishing down there in the darkness (Shorty said that the lantern light would scare the fish away) we noticed the shadow of two large winged creatures flying up river directly in front of us. "What are those?" I asked Shorty. 'Pterodactyls!" he replied. We soon realized that what we were actually seeing was a pair of great blue herons. The moonlight was bright enough to allow us to see them land on a large rock on the shoreline. They too were trying their luck at smelting, in the middle of the night. I never realized until that night that blue herons fish at night. What amazing fishing creatures they are.

The next time I went was with Tony Mang about the 1st of April. It was wet and cold outside. We hiked through the woods down to the mouth of Four-Mile Creek. It had been raining so much that the creek was really high and the mouth was really wide, no success.

I drove down to the Lewiston sand docks about a week later, and there was some smelt running. I managed to put a few in my bucket. I went down there again a few days later and I could see the smelt running off and on.

A few days later Tony and I went down to Artpark with our waders. Several people were taking smelt. John Tromontano caught a 12-inch mud puppy in his smelt net. There were probably about forty or fifty down at the dock that night. I was standing on the south corner of the dock when someone yelled "Hey, what's that?" There was this black object floating in the water about the size of a medium sized dog. It swam right up close to me. It was a beaver swimming down river. I grew up near the river and this was the first time that I'd ever seen a beaver in the lower Niagara River.

When I was a kid, about 50 years ago, there were so many smelt that from the top of the river bank at what is now Artpark, and back then was Kolano's, you could see a thick black swaying line parallel to the river shore. There was no limit on the number of smelt you could take. People would actually fill garbage cans full of smelt to take home. On the cars of the smelters you could see many out of state license plates from places as far away as West Virginia. I actually saw pickup trucks with their backs loaded with smelt. I recall asking one guy what he planned to do with an entire load of smelt on his pickup truck. He told me that he used them to feed the mink on his mink farm down in the Finger Lakes region. We kids used to go over to Charlie Lonsdale's house and he would loan us a smelt net. We would go down to the shoreline and you could fill your net up in a matter of minutes.

Smelt is a quite an oily fish. Someone once told me that the Indians of this area dried the smelt and burned them for light, like candles. When they burned them they smelled really bad, and hence the word 'smelt'. (Please don't quote me on that].

What is a smelt? It's actually related to trout. I've never seen any more than eight or nine inches long. Around the beginning of April every year they run up the Niagara River and the tributaries of Lake Ontario to spawn. There used to be many more years ago than there are now.

So why aren't there as many now as there used to be? According to Bill Hilts Jr. one of the main reasons that there are fewer smelt is because there are fewer nutrients. The reason that there are now fewer nutrients is because of stringent environmental laws that resulted in lower concentrations of phosphorous in the water. This element is a basic part of the bottom of the food chain. The result is less plankton and thus fewer smelt.

Another reason is over fishing. Hilts relates the story of when a fisherman was telling him that he used to fill his boat with blue pike frequently. Then in the next breath asks, "Where did they all go?"

Of course, the Niagara Rivers history has its unfortunate periods of serious pollution. This didn't help any fish populations. Another big factor is the predators. Those big twenty to forty pound salmon and trout out there have to eat a lot of smelt, alewives and shad to get to be that big. Bill Hilts Sr. told me of a recently caught lake trout that had 99 smelt and alewives in its belly.

Unlike the blue pike, which are believed to be gone forever (See our articles on blue pike on this Outdoors Niagara website) we still have the smelt. Maybe the recent limit set by the DEC is a step in the right direction. Managed correctly, we can insure that future generations enjoy this fish us much as we have.

INDEX FOR MIKE GILLIS STORIES Email Mike Gillis
Niagara Critter Encounters	The Lake Sturgeon	Strange Tales of the Niagara	I Remember Old Charlie [Lonsdale]	Blue Pike Story A remnant from the past?
Niagara Coyote Story [Turn your speakers on]	Varmints Around our House	Fishing the Niagara River at Night NEW!	Adventures in Smelting

Niagara Critter Encounters

By Mike Gillis Click on Pictures

By Mike Gillis
Click on Pictures