From the New Bedford (Mass.) Standard Times.

April 2003

April brings alewives
Return of herring is rite of spring in South Coast


By TOM MASON, Standard-Times correspondent

April weather in New England is predictably unpredictable. At dawn, it may be sweater weather, but, by nighttime, it's liable to be so cold that you can't go outside without wearing an overcoat. But, once it's springtime, South Coast residents can always count on one thing: herring.

That's because, when it gets warm outside and the temperature of rivers and streams begins to climb above 45 degrees, the herring always run in South Coast.

Nobody knows when the dark silver fish first began to wriggle their way upstream to spawn in local ponds, but their journey has been a rite of spring for at least a thousand years.

Even before the Mayflower landed, Native Americans found a multitude of ways to use herring. For hundreds of years, people have eaten it, fed it to livestock and used it for bait. Some Southcoast farmers and gardeners still follow the Native American tradition, which was adopted by earlier settlers, of burying alewives -- a fish that resembles the herring -- when crops are planted to ensure an abundant harvest in the fall.

Colonists learned about herring from Native Americans and reaped the benefits. When the Massachusetts Bay Colony was founded, the herring may have been just as important to the local economy as the fish that made Massachusetts famous, the mighty cod.

Alewives, which are currently navigating through SouthCoast waterways, and other herring species have always been a vital link in nature's food chain. Other fish, whales and rare coastal birds, such as the roseate tern, an endangered species that resides in Buzzards Bay, and even eagles feast on fresh herring.

Herring helps support our local economy, too. Today, it's mostly used as bait for lobster and striped bass. But, some SouthCoast traditionalists still enjoy the taste of the foot-long creatures.

The SouthCoast has several large herring runs. The state's largest travels through Lakeville, Freetown and Rochester. New Bedford's water supply, in Assawompsett Pond, also serves as one of the most productive spawning grounds for herring in all of New England.

Every spring, more than 1 million alewives take the 40-mile circuitous route that starts in Fall River, continues through the Taunton River and into the Nemasket River. Eventually, the herring run finishes up in Lakeville. Assawompsett Pond, Big and Small Quitticus Ponds, and other local ponds are great spawning grounds for herring.

The Mattapoisett River is another long herring run. In most years, more than 100,000 herring make their way upstream, more than 20 miles, to enjoy the spring at Snipatuit Pond in Rochester. Another popular run is in Bournedale, where hundreds of tourists, on their way to the Cape, pull over on the Scenic Highway to view the great migration of herring on the north side of Buzzards Bay.

Through the years, due to overfishing, overdevelopment and pollution, the herring population has dwindled, but thanks to the efforts of our local communities, herring are holding their own in the SouthCoast. In some places, herring are actually making a comeback.

One of the key reasons for herring's survival is that local communities have recognized proper management of herring is necessary. Local herring fisheries are zealously protected and a source of community pride. There's a large network of herring ladders that need to be properly maintained so that spawning fish may migrate upstream and procreate.

Lakeville, Middleboro, Mattapoisett, Marion and Rochester, as they have for years, have their own herring inspectors who work with other towns to maintain the SouthCoast's great fisheries.

"We've never given up our rights. It's been a tradition since the formation of the country. Twenty-five thousand Native Americans, more than today's population of Middleboro, once thrived because of all the game and the herring in the area," said Jack Healy, Middleboro's town manager.

"The first natural run here was in the 1760s when people in Rochester created their own herring run. That's how old it is," said William D. Watling Jr., who, like his father before him, serves as Rochester's herring inspector.

"Here, the herring inspector has always been an elected position. At one time, the herring inspector had an important job in settling disputes and stopping poachers. Many years ago, the herring sales in town were enough to pay for our whole school budget. Every family was entitled to a barrel of herring. Widows also had their own share. It's not as economically important as it once was, but it's still important, as far as the food chain."

Herring inspectors are generally jacks-of-all-trades and wear many hats. One of their main duties is to be traffic cops -- keeping traffic, caused by the run, unsnarled and preventing unwanted visitors from disturbing the fish.

"Their job is to make sure there are no obstructions, an adequate flow of water, watch for poaching, and make sure that they get where they're supposed to go," said Mr. Healy.
Local inspectors serve double-duty as census takers -- conducting counts and collecting information used to estimate the current herring population.

"At the top of the ladder, we hold a clicker and count for 10 minutes at a time. If you have a clean board and put it on the ladder on the steps under water, it's pretty easy to count them," said Sargent Johnson, a volunteer inspector for the Lakeville-Middleboro Herring Commission.

Herring inspectors also may sometimes serve the whole community as fishermen. In many towns, herring inspectors are the only citizens who can catch the native fish. In Bourne, for example, individuals may not fish for herring themselves. The only way to get your hands on some herring is to buy a permit from the town, and purchase a town-appointed inspector's daily catch.

Every Saturday morning during herring season, inspectors from Mattapoisett, Rochester and Marion get together to go fishing at the ladder on River Road on Route 6 in Mattapoisett, and sell their catch to anglers, lobstermen or anyone else who wants to buy fresh herring.

"We've tried three weeks in a row to catch them, but we've only caught about a half a bushel of herring. I expect it will be wonderful as soon as the water is warm. Generally, they're used as lobster bait, but I've noticed that old-timers who grew up in the Depression still like to eat them. I don't like the taste, they're a bit oily for me," said Mr. Watling.

Sometimes, herring inspectors may even be culinary consultants, who advise local residents on how to cook and prepare the bony fish.

"Properly cooked, it's a nice tasting fish. For herring to be properly cooked or pickled, the herring bones need to dissolve," said Marion Herring Inspector James Gurney.

Maintaining a town's herring population isn't a one-person show and generally herring inspectors must make do on miniscule budget. So, organizations like Alewife Anonymous, a group of 70 local residents from Mattapoisett, Marion, and Rochester, are helping their towns to rebuild the local herring population.

"Alewife Anonymous got Mattapoisett River in good shape and made it navigable. We bought two electric fish counters that cost about $4,500 apiece. At one time, we were the only ones, besides the state, to have an electronic fish counter. We have cleared out the Sippican River, which has been clogged up with underbrush, so fish can run. And we supplied material, while the state supplied the expertise to build a new run into spawning grounds by Leonard's Pond. Lately, more people are helping out because more people understand ecology," said Mr. Watling, explaining the role of an active member of Alewife Anonymous.

Early on, the waters have been warmer in Lakeville and Middleboro, and the herring have been really running up north. At the Lakeville-Middleboro Run on Wareham Street right across the street from the Middleboro Public Works Department, about 600 herring an hour have been traveling down the Nemasket River through Middleboro Center.

"It's been loaded. Look at all the kids here. They're having a ball. You can practically reach in the water and catch them by hand. They like our river. There have been hundreds and hundreds of them this weekend," observed Mr. Johnson, who was carefully monitoring the Lakeville-Middleboro run on a busy April afternoon.

Last year, based upon an incomplete count, 76,000 were counted on Mattapoisett River. It takes three years for herring to multiply, so local officials are optimistic that this year's count will be better.

"They're always packed up there in Lakeville and Middleboro. We're hoping, if we continue to work, things will get better," said Mr. Watling.