First correct guess gets a sticker. May be two.

Don’t know how many folks will find this one interesting or applicable in their corners of the world, so if you’re not into reading more about the stupidity and greed happening here in the Northwest, we suggest you skip this and groove on some rather uplifting wordwork from the Gaper and our new mop-boy G_Smolt by scrolling down the page.

Here in our corner of North Oregon, however, we’ve been closely following a study that has found the sodium sulfites in cured eggs responsible for juvenile salmonid mortality rates as high as 35% for a number of reasons:

1. The social angle: To see whether egg guys will cling to proven-deadly sulfite cures as they bitch about dwindling salmon returns, or to see how serious they truly are about doing what they can, whatever they can and whatever it takes to make returns better, even if that means abandoning the reliance on sodium sulfites in their age-old, tried and true bait cures and catching a few less fish each season.

2. The economic angle: To see the ODFW, fishing industry and guide response to this; whether they’ll refute or dodge science (as has become quite popular out here in the Northwest with regard to wild fish policy) and if/how they’ll try to defend proven-deadly sulfites in the name of the whorish almighty dollar. Now, the industry and guides we have no faith in, really, because it’s business and we all know what happens on the greed-o-meter when you monetize something. in the case of the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, an public agency, we find their refusal to do anything more than simply recommend manufacturers stop using sulfites extremely telling about their relationship with the fishing industry (in a cock-down-throat sort of way).

Below is an article by Jeff Mishler (and you thought he was just a punk-ass Drake writer, right?) that’s worth a read, in my oh-so-humble opinion. Love to hear some thoughts from both non-egg guys, as well as egg guys who’ve stumbled over here and still fish sulfite-cured bait. And please, fight nice, kids. But do fight. I’d like to see this one get hashed out some.

CHEMICALLY CURED SALMON EGGS KILL JUVENILE SALMON AND STEELHEAD AT RATES AS HIGH AS 35%. NOW WHAT?

By Jeff Mishler

In April of 2008 I approached the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife with the framework for a study to determine whether chemicals in commercially made salmon egg cures were toxic to juvenile salmonids. The results of the study proved Sodium Sulfite, used pervasively as a preservative and bite enhancer in commercially available egg cures and cured eggs killed juveniles at rates up to 35%. Sodium Sulfite is listed as a regulated toxin by EPA and regulated under the Toxic Substance Control Act. In the wake of this study conducted by ODFW at an Oregon State University research facility, the staff at the fisheries department at Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife have only recommended that the use of sulfites cease and are not willing to regulate the use of Sodium Sulfites by adopting new rules. According to EPA, a toxin must only cause harm, not mortality, before regulation under TSCA guidelines must be enforced. As noted in the study’s summary, sodium sulfite present in cured salmon eggs and used as bait by sport anglers caused mortality on juvenile salmon and steelhead at rates as high as 35%.

See ODFW press release and study results:

BACKGROUND

Fisherman use cured salmon eggs 12 months a year on waterways and lakes from Alaska south to California and East to the Great Lakes, where the use of bait is allowed. Eggs are fished using a variety of methods; back bouncing, drift fishing, bobber or float fishing, diver and bait and plunking. Of the techniques used by egg fishermen, bobber fishing presents the bait for the long intervals in the slow water zones inhabited by juveniles. Back bouncing and diver techniques present the bait near the bottom at a very slow rate of downstream travel for long periods of time. Plunking presents the stationary bait very near the bottom indefinitely. Drift fishing presents the bait near the bottom traveling downstream at a rate slightly slower than the current for an interval of less than one minute per cast.

Anglers target spring Chinook, fall Chinook, Coho, late winter steelhead, summer steelhead and resident trout with chemically cured salmon eggs. These proprietary chemical cures contain powerful sulfites, formaldehydes and other toxic chemicals. Cured egg use in the spring and summer coincides with the out migration of young salmon and steelhead. It also coincides with increased consumption of food by all resident salmonids, driven by an increase in water temperatures, post spawning metabolism, and increases in the abundance of aquatic food sources. When presented a bait of chemically cured salmon eggs, juveniles can be observed feeding on it aggressively.

In a real world fishing situation, with an abundance of juveniles present, it is not uncommon to observe 100 or more juveniles of varying age classes attack an egg presentation when it is paused only momentarily at the side of the boat, before making another cast. I also witness discarded baits attacked voraciously by juveniles.

IMPACTS ON JUVENILES IN THE WILD

I worked with OSU and ODFW staff to design the framework of this study. In light of the results, I believe sport anglers are impacting populations of wild fry, out-migrating smolts, one and two year-old juvenile steelhead, resident and sea run cutthroat trout, and resident rainbow trout by choosing to fish with chemically cured salmon eggs.

The impacts on juvenile populations could be profound when one figures: (the physiological impact of one exposure on a quantity of juveniles) x (the number of chemically cured egg presentations made by one angler) x (the total number of anglers fishing chemically cured eggs on a given day) x (the number of angling days). Millions of juveniles are exposed to the toxin Sodium Sulfite daily during peak angling seasons.

NEXT STEP

How do we get the ball rolling towards an enforceable ban on the use of sulfites in baits?

1) Add two words to ORS 498.046 to include “fish and”.

Current rules state:

498.046 Making toxic substances accessible to wildlife prohibited. No person shall place any toxic substance where it is accessible to wildlife unless the substance used and the method of application is approved by the state governmental agencies having authority to prescribe or implement environmental control programs. [1973 c.723 §81]

Proposed change:

498.046 Making toxic substances accessible to wildlife prohibited. No person shall place any toxic substance where it is accessible to (fish and) wildlife unless the substance used and the method of application is approved by the state governmental agencies having authority to prescribe or implement environmental control programs. [1973 c.723 §81]

This is a simple fix that will in essence protect millions of juvenile salmon and steelhead, some stocks listed under the ESA as endangered or threatened, from unnecessary exposure to a known lethal toxin. We spend hundreds of millions of dollars a year trying to recover stocks on the Lower Columbia alone. Ethically, it’s wrong to place toxins in the water, ever. Fishing with chemically cured eggs and baits is voluntary and without a change in the language of law, there is no incentive for fishing guides who depend on catching salmon and steelhead, at all costs, to change behavior regardless of ODFW’s soft recommendations. Who could argue against the rule change? What, they support placing poisons in the river, though the voluntary actions of sport fisherman?

2) Ask the Oregon Fish and Wildlife Commission to reconsider ORS 498.208 in light of the ODFW/OSU study findings.

Currently, the Fish and Wildlife Commission allows the use of eggs as bait as an exception to the rule:
498.208 Use of electricity or foreign substances to take game fish prohibited; rules.
(1) Except as the State Fish and Wildlife Commission by rule may provide otherwise, no person shall:
(a) Use in any body of water any electric current that may attract, frighten, retard, stun, kill or obstruct the movement of any game fish.
(b) Place in any body of water any foreign substance such as blood or fish offal or any gas, chemical, drug or powder that may attract, frighten, retard, stun, kill or obstruct the movement of any game fish.
(c) Use in any body of water any explosive device for the purpose of taking game fish.
(2) No person shall possess any game fish that the person knows or has reason to know was taken in violation of subsection (1) of this section. [1973 c.723 §92]

In the light of the study results, they have not reconsidered this exception. I believe they should.

3) File a Citizen’s Petition with EPA to begin enforcement of Toxic Substance Control Act provisions.
EPA will be required to conduct additional studies to determine safe levels of Sodium Sulfite in commercial bait cures and enforce reporting from manufactures of such products.

CONCLUSION

Prohibiting the use of the preservative Sodium Sulfite in cured salmon/steelhead eggs (used as fish bait) is a common sense response in light of evidence proving exposure to the toxin is lethal to young salmonids. Unfortunately there are those who value angling opportunity and business profits more than the recovery or survival of stocks balanced on the brink of extinction. We don’t know whether salmon and steelhead adult populations experience net impacts after exposure to Sodium Sulfite as juveniles. Many of these stocks are struggling populations in freshwater environments where summertime flows are low and water temperatures high. The impacts of exposure could be profound where adult Spring Chinook and various age classes of juveniles share freshwater sanctuaries.

This is a no brainer to me. You’re either with the fish, or you’re not.

Jeff Mishler

Fly Tying Uber Geek Alert!!!

Our West Seattle neighbor P. Diddy pushes the envelope to the near genius level…

Cormac McCarthy’s Olivetti typer is going up for auction, so sayeth the NYTimes. They’re expecting to fetch 20K for the thing, which means we’d only have to sell 150,000 stickers… or something. Anyway, here’s the supa sweet money quote:

Glenn Horowitz, a rare-book dealer who is handling the auction for Mr. McCarthy, said: “When I grasped that some of the most complex, almost otherworldly fiction of the postwar era was composed on such a simple, functional, frail-looking machine, it conferred a sort of talismanic quality to Cormac’s typewriter. It’s as if Mount Rushmore was carved with a Swiss Army knife.”

thee mighty SUNN O))))  are currently on tour. bring earplugs, holmes.

“…I’ve come to realize that we love and venerate salmonids because they supposedly possess the traits that we’d like to ascribe to our own beings; sleekness, nobility, smarts, discernment and beauty. But the largemouth bass, with its pugnacity and straightforwardness, its big mouth, its lack of discrimination at the dinner table and the resultant bulge at the waist, just might be a more honest reflection…”

- Monte Burke, excerpted from his essay, “Bass Fishermen” in the Spring/Summer ‘09 issue of The Drake, now available at finer literary establishments. Git some.

this seems to be in super reduced ultra drunk-o-vision, but it still pretty cool…

and…

Caveat lector: fly fishing aphorisms make no sense whatever. An aphorism is a shotgun blast, a broken thought, a fragmented something or other. Fly fishing rambles on and on and on…

Mean? How can fly fishing mean anything? Do the rocks? Does the water? Any meaning radiates from the angler. Like throwing a handful of salt into the stream.

Inasmuch as the sun interrupts continuous night, these streams trespass across the earth, owning mere slips of territory, if any at all. It’s laughable, really.

The graceful, striving feral.

The stuttering, benighted pure.

Oh no! We have dematerialized! Fly fishing is now rivers of electrons flowing through ether. Soon we needn’t even bother getting our hands wet.

Enjoy thy stream, O harmless fish;
And when an angler for his dish,
Through gluttony’s vile sin,
Attempts, the wretch, to pull thee out,
God give thee strength, O gentle trout,
To pull the rascal in!
~John Wolcot

Dalliant. Evermost. Headlong. Fecund.

Jim Harrison: The head is a cloud anchor which the feet must follow.

Trout are not neither regal or noble. They are however vicious. A beautiful, efficient viciousness.

Vicious? Being owed nothing. Expecting nothing.

“A puncher’s chance”

Yes, vicious, but trout seem always to aspire to something more: more brawn, more ferocity, more guile — yet settle upon the subtle sheen of an arty reticence.

Unapproachable.

Proust: We must perish, but we have as hostages these divine captives who will share our fate. And death in their company is somehow less bitter, less inglorious, perhaps even less probable. “
…Willing to rise to the bait until “Less probable” !

Forget it. You cannot reinvent fly fishing. You cannot reinvent the nature of the fish. You cannot reinvent this joyous, hideous connection. We mumble some thanks to no real god for that connection, curse ourselves for doing so,  but still marvel: it is something.

The nature of the thing — the margins; the eddies; so close to the slack water. So close to the steep, steep drop off.

Silly. Fly fishing always seems more about the fly fisherman than the fish. Luckily, the fish do not give a fuck.

The guide who rowed for Dick Cheney.

Hope, the most gorgeous utterance in our language, defines our stumble- bumble lot.

Faith. Our rusting shackle, paints us in clown colors.

A slump buster’s mantra: “It ain’t like hell — it wont last forever.”

Damn you. Tamper your own enthusiasm? And do it willfully? Techniques that lead to negation yet serve to amplify your sense of… what is it? Suffering? Righteousness, Entitlement? Please Lord, no further trespassing upon our souls…

Still, those moments when glory surrounds.

Issac Walton digested 99 percent of everything he caught. Easily.

Ditto G.E.M. Skues.

And I do mean everything.

We are forced to stoicism… forced to zen… staring at that fucking knot.

When fishing, our other vices unfurl and march forth with such grace and sophistication. Oh! Every sense in bloom!

Who said life is fleeting? Did they fish?

Not to mention Hemingway.

No, don’t tell me that. Fish can’t possibly be your enemy.

And Teddy Roosevelt.

You were furious when you missed that fish? I am torn between admiration and pity.

Good Lord, let us once and for all refrain from defiling the river by calling it “sacred” or “holy”. It remains a blood sport, after all. It’s the blood that’s sacred.

Primitive? We can’t even scratch the surface. But there we go, off to our woodsy theater again.

Impermanant.

How quickly the color drains from a fish you’ve killed. How the scales tip almost imperceptibly up and away from the skin when the rigor sets the flesh. How many ways we perceive death when we ourselves deal it.

“Blessings upon all that hate contention, and love quietnesse, and vertue, and Angling.”  Izaak Walton said that. Our fishing souls, Ike, need no soothing. Our dozens of other souls… well…

Too proud. There is no such animal as luck, son. No fisherman really believes in such a beast.

Butcher, lift your thumb from the scale: Those who lie about their fishing. Those who we only suspect are lying. Our own lies.

Have we finally killed the formality? The pretense? The preening? Lordy, I hope there is but a thin smear of that blood upon my waders.

“To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day…”
Yes, Shakespeare, but we hold the key to this confounded lock! We have a secret passage! And our creep, creep, creeping deals death, too.

Call yourself whatever you wish, but one only becomes a fisherman when one almost dies upon the stream (drowning, heatstroke, snakebite) and then returns to it once again, happily. There should be some sort of badge for that.

A fisherman’s vanity: Gloriously fugitive; sniffing that matted, stinking mass of fur, bones, and teeth rotting in that fetid, muddy ditch. Ammonia, death, piss, history. Civilization, resting comfortably.

That vest, those old boots, that tin of worthless and rusted flies. We can’t throw them away. They have battled with us.  Our heroism held in tiny boxes, smelling of mud and cold.

Forced to be alone with ourselves. Who do we confront? Can we fish together?

In fishing, we can finally stop talking. We don’t have to talk. Silence is golden.

Desire is the inconvenience of its object. Lourdes isn’t Lourdes if you live in Lourdes.
–Don Patterson said that.

Do we come close to boredom or do we, instead, glimpse the giddy nothingness… all of that glorious nothingness? A fisherman doesn’t really need to think about it.

Siddartha in waders.

Set your watch by the tides. Better yet, chuck that fucker into the drink.

“Time is but the stream I go a-fishing in. I drink at it; but while I drink I see the sandy bottom and detect how shallow it is. Its thin current slides away, but eternity remains,” so claimed Henry David Thoreau

You get a trophy just for showing up!

Props to Scott B. in Milwaukie, OR for giving it a good try. He gets some stickers for the effort. May be one of the rest of you can make use of his mostly-right-but-incomplete puzzle answers and reach for the grand prize. Or may be I should just make it a word jumble next time, eh?

Email completed puzzles to banknote@busterwantstofish.com.

We don’t care how you send it–PDF, JPG, whatever–just some kind of image file and make it legible.

The first correct one to hit the inbox gets a couple steelhead flies from banknote’s vise, plus a set of “Corporate Fly Fishing Still Sucks” and “BWTF” stickers! The next two only get stickers.

And the rest of you, well, maybe the chicks at your local hipster coffee shop will still be impressed.