Up and down the coast in numerous blogs, Facebook posts and activist demonstrations outside various offices, there has been an assertive and angry outcry from sport fishers protesting the new chinook salmon regulations to involve, only partly we should note, catch and release [“North Island-Powell River MP prepares report on state of chinook fishery,” May 8].
Let’s just let that sink in for a moment. Grown adults, allegedly concerned for the welfare of the salmon stocks, are bent out of shape because they now are expected to release the fish that they are still so lucky to catch, and even then only some of the time.
Still not getting it? Okay, try this for context: Nearly any other recreational fishery known to humanity is not just familiar with catch and release, they are now so accustomed and welcoming that catch and release is a proud cultural imperative. Literally, they will scorn and ridicule those who fail to live up to that very minor standard of ecological stewardship.
Which reminds me. If I recall correctly, chinook sport fishers had many years to read the writing on the wall so obvious going clear back to derby days. They could have, if they had ever thought of it, voluntarily lobbied Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) to create a catch and release rule for their own fishery, thus demonstrating their stewardship bona fides in selecting the tenuous health of the fishery over their own open-season interests, for future generations, such as their very own children.
They didn’t do that did they? They waited, bonking fish heads like there is no tomorrow, and complaining of course about the DFO, first nations, sea lions and just about everyone else but themselves.
Perhaps this should be a topic of discussion around the dining table. “So, Daddy, explain to me one more time how you bravely protested at the DFO office. And for what again? I see, yes, we see right through you, Daddy.”