Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign
And like in the song, they’re unhelpful signs.
July 19 - I had marked the Meziadin fishway on my map while researching the area at home. We found the road easily and turned onto it. Not knowing if we would have space to turn around later, we parked near the highway in a large gravel lot. There were two small buildings both well beyond repair. In the brush, there was a rusting boat trailer in the same condition as the buildings. I locked the Jeep.
We continued down the gravel road on foot. Four signs written on laminated typing paper along the road warned in legal terms of serving prison time for arson. We saw no signs of previous arson. The signs were odd, but we continued toward the river.
We came to another sign that said a video camera was in use. This made us feel unwelcome. But not as unwelcome as the next sign that said, “Authorized Vehicles Only.” A car passed us. Apparently it was authorized.
We continued down the road following the authorized car. At the bottom of the hill was a sign that said, “Welcome.” I suspected it was not intended for us. Just beyond it was a wide gravel lot and two giant size chairs under a plaque that said Meziadin Fish Ladder.
Beyond that was the Meziadin Rive, but access was blocked by a rusting chainlink fence. I saw a poster with information about the watershed and its importance to salmon.
I went over to read it. He went to a viewpoint along the fence to take photos of the salmon jumping at Victoria Falls.
Salmon Trying to Jump the Falls
As I turned away from the poster, I noticed a row of identical huts. These were the size of portable buildings, each had a small porch area and steps leading down to the gravel lot. A man in his late 20's set on the steps of one staring at the ground. He was wearing waders and a flotation jacket. No fishing gear was in sight.
Behind the poster was a small platform with picnic tables. It all looked new. I wondered what this place was. I walked to the viewpoint by the fence to watch the salmon jump. I felt sorry for them. Only a few lucky salmon would find their way to the fish ladder.
The fish ladder is to the right of the concrete wall and below the chainlink fence. That thing that looks like it might be a fish is just a leaf.
I looked around for the ladder that we had come to see. It was also behind the chainlink fence and in front of that several feet of thick brush. There would be no observation of the fish that would make it upstream.
As we turned to leave a woman came out of one of the huts. She walked toward us with purpose then, looking up, she spotted us. She stood akimbo watching as we made our way past the unwelcoming sign back to our car.
More than a week has passed, and I find myself wondering about the purpose of the huts, the intention of the woman, and why the man looked so dejected. Were they preparing for a festival. Perhaps it was a fishing camp. Were they preparing for tourist that didn't come? We had come to see the fish ladder that had no access. The fish only wanted to return upstream to spawn, but how many would actually reach their destination. There were lots of signs, but none that answered my questions.
Thanks to technology rather than the signs, we now know these people were tending the fish ladder. Their job is to count the fish and identify the species of salmon returning upstream. On average over 160,000 salmon return via the fishway annually. The man was most likely waiting to do more sampling or maybe he was just exhausted. There were 7,320 fish counted the day we were there. The lady was probably wondering what we were up to.
To learn more and see the daily fish count, see the links below.
https://www.historicplaces.ca/en/rep-reg/place-lieu.aspx?id=19436
https://www.pac.dfo-mpo.gc.ca/fm-gp/northcoast-cotenord/meziadin-eng.html