By Bruce Davidson
If fish could smile, I think there would be some pretty wide grins being seen in the Bay this year. And a good piece of the piscatorial mirth can be attributed to one single factor—the recovery of water levels since the disastrous lows of 2013.
Having canoed and paddled among the various inlets and inland lakes of southern Franklin Island every summer for about sixty years, I have seen some mighty changes in the fishery, some produced by the hand of man and others caused by fluctuating water levels. Concerning the hand of man, when I was a kid, not only was the entirety of Franklin Island a fish sanctuary, but the prohibition against fishing extended for a fair piece offshore as well, something like a quarter of a mile. The idea was to invigorate the larger fishery in the Georgian Bay by protecting the spawning habitat locally. Needless to say it worked miraculously and it was quite a treat to encounter vast schools of fish swimming in and out of the channels that connected the back bays to the larger fiords.
Which leaves us with the other key variable: fluctuating water levels. To understand why a meter of water makes such a huge difference, it is necessary to visit some of the spawning sites of Franklin to fully appreciate how shallow the connecting channels are at the best of times. One great example is the chain of lakes emptying at the southeast corner of Franklin, unimaginatively called Little Lakes on some maps. Five years ago these lakes were totally cut off from the Georgian Bay, virtually devoid of fish, dark brown and stagnant. In early June this summer in contrast, I managed to slide a small aluminum boat fairly easily through two constrictions that had been dry for about a decade to witness northern pike, longnose gar pike and smallmouth bass happily cavorting with their mates in fairly clear waters. At another location on southern Franklin where field grasses, shrubs and even small trees had grown up in historical marshland, Mother Nature had completely turned the tables and re-established the swamps so critical to certain species of fish. What a delight to see that the mere presence of a couple of feet of water could kill the herbaceous invaders so effectively.
When water levels go well below their historic norms, habitat is not generally just shifted…it’s lost. Just try to go out into the open Georgian Bay and shove a rowing oar a meter or two into the mud, the way you can in some of the interior lakes. (By the way, it’s always fun trying this demonstration with visitors on board to hear their gasps of surprise at the vast bubbles of swamp gas that are released from the mud.) There is also the water temperature issue. Waters in shallow inland bays warm up quickly in the spring to coincide with optimal spawning cycles. It’s been 12,000 years since the glaciers retreated and all those sediments and nutrients are an integral part of the ecosystem. Reproduction strategies are impacted when water levels get out of whack.
So if you’re really into nature, get into your kayak or canoe and drift over the spawning habitat of the back bays next spring and see if you can just spot that subtle little smile from the big fat smallmouth bass cruising around its nest. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve got nothing against bivalves. It’s just that they get undeserved credit for happiness while the really entertaining beasties generally get none.
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