Day 300 – Seen Better Days

October 26, 2016 – This has occupied my last three days – helping with spawning Chinook salmon for both normal production, and for a genetic heritability study.

He may have seen better days, but at least his genes will be passed on, which is more than many others caught in fishing nets or removed by predators can say. His death, though brutal, was swift.

Do you see those teeth? They are small when compared to a mature chum male – those fellows are real snaggletoothed monsters and can easily put a hole in one’s waders. But they are large enough, and sharp enough, to cause damage and deserve some respect.

Funny story: When I was a little girl, my Dad would take me out in the canoe to go fishing out at our cabin at Summit Lake. Dad fished for rainbow trout and lake trout and while the rainbows were pretty small and only a few pounds, it wasn’t unusual for him to pull out some lunkers when he was fishing for lake trout. Although I suppose they weren’t really that big when compared against what they can get to, the largest ever caught on rod and reel was a 72 pounder pulled out of the Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories. But Dad pulled some 20+ pound fish out of that lake, and he always cut the cheeks out for me and cooked them on the BBQ with a little butter and lemon juice, they were my special treat.

But one day, when he took me out in the canoe, him with his big fishing rod, me with my little kiddie rod, he pulled in a big one. 25 pounds of spotted fish landed in the boat and he dispatched it quickly. I remember touching it and feeling its cold slippery surface, and then my little fingers slipped along its lower jaw and encountered those teeth – fangs to a child’s imagination!

I pulled my hand back sharply and can recall how my mental process went immediately from:

1. Sharp teeth
2. Fish underwater
3. Invisible creature
4. Swimming child
5. Fanged monster
6. MY TOES!!!!!

For some time after that, if Dad took me out fishing in the canoe, I would dread my rod receiving even a nibble, and if something bit, I would scream and throw my rod at Dad.

It’s a wonder I went into the field I did.

116 Photos in 2016 – 93. Seen Better Days