BasicPatrick
04-11-2006, 08:24 AM
By Dan Shapley
Poughkeepsie Journal
For the last three years, the number of tiny transparent eels returning to Hudson River tributaries declined precipitously — dropping about 50 percent each year.
The trajectory was consistent with the grim reports of the American eel's apparent demise. After some 200 million years on Earth, during which eels sustained humans the world over, the snake-like fish were disappearing.
Commercial harvests dropped to a fraction of what they had been three decades ago. By some estimates, eel populations worldwide have declined between 80 and 99 percent.
So, scientist Tom Lake was understandably surprised when he peeked in his fyke net a week ago and pulled in about three dozen "glass eels" on a Wappinger Creek tributary. The spaghetti-like eels had migrated for six or eight months from spawning grounds near Bermuda.
"This year," Lake said, "for some reason, we're getting a lot of eels."
The observation may say less about the state of the world's eels than the dearth of knowledge scientists have about the species. Those four years of research have given scientists virtually their only set of data on eels in the Hudson River.
In 2001, alarmed by reports of eels' rapid decline, the Atlantic State Marine Fisheries Commission ordered states in its jurisdiction to start a crash course in eels. As it mandated "Eels 101," its experts suggested eels may need the protection of the Endangered Species Act — an extraordinary step for a fish found in the Americas from Brazil to Greenland, and as far inland as Kansas.
Two New England brothers took that step last year.
Timothy A. Watts of South Middleborough, Mass., and Douglas H. Watts of Augusta, Maine, filed a petition with the Fish and Wildlife Service requesting the American eel be protected as an endangered species. They identified evidence of the effects of habitat loss, dam blockage, pollution, parasites and other factors that might explain the eel's plight.
"Something needs to be done now, and the only thing big enough to figure this thing out and control it is the Endangered Species Act," Timothy Watts said. "Without it, nothing's going to get done."
The Fish and Wildlife Service has convened several panels of experts to discuss the state of knowledge about eels. The agency's mandate is to determine whether listing the species is warranted, based on the slim science available. It expects to make a recommendation this year.
A listing on the Endangered Species list could have its greatest impact on New England and Canadian hydroelectric dams, some of which block migrating young eels from reaching freshwater streams and turn adult eels to mincemeat before they can reach the ocean to spawn. A listing would also have effects on the Hudson River.
Until the 1970s, eels were a popular food and even sustained a small part of the commercial fishery. PCB pollution shut that down, but some still look forward to the day when eels are given a clean bill of health again.
"I never — ever — thought of eels as becoming an endangered species. But when I used to fish with my dad, we would catch some big ones. I'm talking up to 3 feet long and 3 inches round. Those were the best eating — very sweet and meaty," said Poughkeepsie resident Ed Carbone who, like many Italians, enjoys eels around Christmas.
"I still fish the Hudson today," he added. "I don't find the big ones anymore. I'm lucky if I catch a 1-foot long and 1-inch round."
Endangered species listing might also affect the multi-million dollar recreational striped bass fishery. Eels, between 6 and 14 inches long, are now sold live at local bait shops because they sometimes attract trophy bass.
"You hook the whole thing through the lower jaw and up through the nose, through the eye and fish on 'em," said Bill Emslie, a Wappingers Falls fisherman who organizes the annual Hudson River Striped Bass Derby the weekend of May 13. "They're one of the better baits."
Listing might also attract more federal money for environmental restoration projects on the Hudson River. The Hudson River Estuary Program has been identifying derelict dams that could be removed or bypassed to improve fish habitat.
Bard College Professor Catherine O'Reilly is leading one of the first such projects on the Saw Kill in Annandale. Expertise and money for the project also comes from Cornell University, the Fish and Wildlife Service and Simon's Rock College.
This month, experts will install a "fish ladder" to help glass eels get past a dam and grow to maturity in the Saw Kill. A new gentle slope will usher eels to a bucket, which scientists will empty upstream.
The Fish and Wildlife Service will determine this year whether eels need more-aggressive human intervention to prevent their extinction.
Lake, who is also an archaeologist, thinks about the eel plight in a sweeping historic perspective.
"We have American eel," Lake said, "one of the most ubiquitous fish on Earth for nearly 200 million years, surviving in the Americas despite what must have been an enormous annual harvest by native people for 10,000 years — until now."
Dan Shapley can be reached at dshapley@poughkeepsiejournal.com
Poughkeepsie Journal
For the last three years, the number of tiny transparent eels returning to Hudson River tributaries declined precipitously — dropping about 50 percent each year.
The trajectory was consistent with the grim reports of the American eel's apparent demise. After some 200 million years on Earth, during which eels sustained humans the world over, the snake-like fish were disappearing.
Commercial harvests dropped to a fraction of what they had been three decades ago. By some estimates, eel populations worldwide have declined between 80 and 99 percent.
So, scientist Tom Lake was understandably surprised when he peeked in his fyke net a week ago and pulled in about three dozen "glass eels" on a Wappinger Creek tributary. The spaghetti-like eels had migrated for six or eight months from spawning grounds near Bermuda.
"This year," Lake said, "for some reason, we're getting a lot of eels."
The observation may say less about the state of the world's eels than the dearth of knowledge scientists have about the species. Those four years of research have given scientists virtually their only set of data on eels in the Hudson River.
In 2001, alarmed by reports of eels' rapid decline, the Atlantic State Marine Fisheries Commission ordered states in its jurisdiction to start a crash course in eels. As it mandated "Eels 101," its experts suggested eels may need the protection of the Endangered Species Act — an extraordinary step for a fish found in the Americas from Brazil to Greenland, and as far inland as Kansas.
Two New England brothers took that step last year.
Timothy A. Watts of South Middleborough, Mass., and Douglas H. Watts of Augusta, Maine, filed a petition with the Fish and Wildlife Service requesting the American eel be protected as an endangered species. They identified evidence of the effects of habitat loss, dam blockage, pollution, parasites and other factors that might explain the eel's plight.
"Something needs to be done now, and the only thing big enough to figure this thing out and control it is the Endangered Species Act," Timothy Watts said. "Without it, nothing's going to get done."
The Fish and Wildlife Service has convened several panels of experts to discuss the state of knowledge about eels. The agency's mandate is to determine whether listing the species is warranted, based on the slim science available. It expects to make a recommendation this year.
A listing on the Endangered Species list could have its greatest impact on New England and Canadian hydroelectric dams, some of which block migrating young eels from reaching freshwater streams and turn adult eels to mincemeat before they can reach the ocean to spawn. A listing would also have effects on the Hudson River.
Until the 1970s, eels were a popular food and even sustained a small part of the commercial fishery. PCB pollution shut that down, but some still look forward to the day when eels are given a clean bill of health again.
"I never — ever — thought of eels as becoming an endangered species. But when I used to fish with my dad, we would catch some big ones. I'm talking up to 3 feet long and 3 inches round. Those were the best eating — very sweet and meaty," said Poughkeepsie resident Ed Carbone who, like many Italians, enjoys eels around Christmas.
"I still fish the Hudson today," he added. "I don't find the big ones anymore. I'm lucky if I catch a 1-foot long and 1-inch round."
Endangered species listing might also affect the multi-million dollar recreational striped bass fishery. Eels, between 6 and 14 inches long, are now sold live at local bait shops because they sometimes attract trophy bass.
"You hook the whole thing through the lower jaw and up through the nose, through the eye and fish on 'em," said Bill Emslie, a Wappingers Falls fisherman who organizes the annual Hudson River Striped Bass Derby the weekend of May 13. "They're one of the better baits."
Listing might also attract more federal money for environmental restoration projects on the Hudson River. The Hudson River Estuary Program has been identifying derelict dams that could be removed or bypassed to improve fish habitat.
Bard College Professor Catherine O'Reilly is leading one of the first such projects on the Saw Kill in Annandale. Expertise and money for the project also comes from Cornell University, the Fish and Wildlife Service and Simon's Rock College.
This month, experts will install a "fish ladder" to help glass eels get past a dam and grow to maturity in the Saw Kill. A new gentle slope will usher eels to a bucket, which scientists will empty upstream.
The Fish and Wildlife Service will determine this year whether eels need more-aggressive human intervention to prevent their extinction.
Lake, who is also an archaeologist, thinks about the eel plight in a sweeping historic perspective.
"We have American eel," Lake said, "one of the most ubiquitous fish on Earth for nearly 200 million years, surviving in the Americas despite what must have been an enormous annual harvest by native people for 10,000 years — until now."
Dan Shapley can be reached at dshapley@poughkeepsiejournal.com