Sturgeon spearing science despite spectacle

[Spiel]

Sturgeon spearing science despite spectacle

 

 

WED., FEB 18, 2009

PATRICK DURKIN / Wisconsin State Journal

 

 

STOCKBRIDGE -- The waiting line behind the Harbor Bar in Stockbridge on Valentine's Day resembled curbside check-in at airports, but these were successful sturgeon spearers, not frazzled travelers, so they waited contentedly with cold beer in hand and prized fish at foot.

 

Success tends to inspire tolerance and brotherhood. It even offers a taste of celebrity on opening weekend of sturgeon season on the Winnebago System in east-central Wisconsin. That's because spearers often become centers of attention, surrounded as they are by curious onlookers. They talk and joke with well-wishers, pausing only to pull or nudge their fish toward the state's check-in station.

 

Their success even inspires respect and appreciation for the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, whose biologists scan each sturgeon for coded microchip tags, and then weigh the fish, determine its sex and remove caviar from females.

 

This agency might overestimate deer and underestimate wolves, but somehow it's all-knowing in managing lake sturgeon.

 

Imagine that. And imagine hundreds, perhaps thousands, of spectators showing up at 12 taverns around lakes Winnebago, Butte des Morts, Winneconne and Poygan just to see big, bloody fish registered and gutted.

 

Like it or not, most folks have no problem with fishing and hunting as long as the creatures killed end up as food. For me, there's no greater proof of this acceptance than sturgeon-registration stations. People stop on their way home from shopping on Saturdays or church on Sundays to ogle freshly killed fish.

 

Perhaps they stop because this process is a part of life. They certainly don't come for staged entertainment. Unlike bass or walleye tournaments, there's no grand prize, stage, bleachers, side shows, strobe lights or famous emcees.

 

Nope. Sturgeon are the sole, powerful attraction, however homely they might appear. Many spectators park a half-mile from the Stockbridge bar and then dodge bottlenecked traffic to reach its parking lot and impromptu tailgate party.

 

Everyone gathers to see these prehistoric fish, hear how they were speared from inside darkened shacks, and check the purple spear holes in their backs and sides. Young mothers hold babies and pose for family photos with leviathans speared by strangers. Pre-schoolers squat to pet and inspect each fish, flick the barbels under their snouts and prod the firehose-like mouth inches behind.

 

The only suspense might be guessing the fish's weight before the DNR's digital scale renders a verdict. After that, DNR staffers lift the fish onto a measuring table, slice its white belly and inspect its innards to determine its sex.

 

Whenever possible, biologists explain their work and its purpose to everyone within earshot.

"Who wants a science lesson?" asks Kendall Kamke, a DNR fisheries biologist from Oshkosh.

As Kamke slices open a female sturgeon atop a blood-stained snow bank, a student from the UW-Milwaukee's Great Lakes Water Institute opens a sturdy plastic bag to catch its eggs.

 

Kamke then plunges both hands into the fish's belly, excavates a mass of caviar and dumps it into the bag. He repeats the process while explaining that they'll weigh the eggs and match the weight to the fish's size. They hope to analyze enough data to judge how many eggs a female carries simply by knowing her weight and length.

 

Through all the blood, guts and slime, no man, woman or child winces or sets aside their drink or bratwurst. They're watching hardcore science — and they realize the more the biologists learn from these fish, the more the sturgeon and their own recreation benefits.

 

The onlookers come to see sturgeon and maybe learn more about the fish. And themselves.

 

It's not just morbid curiosity.

 

In April, many folks also drive to New London and beyond to watch sturgeon spawn in the Wolf River. Some even spend nights along the water to protect the fish from poachers.

 

Meanwhile, the Winnebago System's sturgeon population grows steadily stronger. These lakes and rivers hold about 60,000 adult sturgeon — and the DNR will allow about 1,600 to be speared before closing the scheduled 16-day season early, likely in the next few days.

 

What these folks witness at both ends of the sturgeon's life cycle — from Shawano to Stockbridge — is the overwhelming success of Wisconsin's most unique natural resource.

 

• Harvest caps on the Upriver Lakes were reached Tuesday, halting spearing there on Wednesday.

 

The season on Lake Winnebago, meanwhile, will be halted once caps are reached. Keep up with daily totals at www.madison.com/wsj/home/sports/outdoors.