False attraction

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An Upstream Invitation: COME VISIT; THEN PLEASE SUE US!

Posted by on 21 May 2020 | Tagged as: American shad, bascule gates, Bellows Falls VT, blueback herring, Connecticut River, Connecticut River migratory fisheries restoration, Connecticut River shortnose sturgeon, Dead Reach, Deerfield River, Dr. Boyd Kynard, endangerd shortnose sturgeon, False attraction, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, FERC, FERC license, fish passage, Greenfield, Holyoke Fish Lift, MA Division of Fish and Wildlife, Massachusetts Division of Fish & Wildlife, migratory delay, New Hampshire, Rock Dam, shad fishing, The Dead Reach, Turners Falls, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, US Geological Survey's Conte Fish Lab

THIS GREAT AND BROKEN RIVER V

Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

Issue # 5, An Upstream Invitation: COME VISIT; THEN PLEASE SUE US!

Dear Vermont and New Hampshire (and northern MA):

Our Connecticut River–as grimly battered by diversions and reversing industrial currents as it is down here in Massachusetts, is way better than yours upstream. That’s not very neighborly to say, but it’s true. Your states probably should’ve sued our Commonwealth years back for depriving you of a living river. It’s what’s been owed you. Down here we have a spring river with at least a credible ocean connection stretching all the way from Long Island Sound to just past the mouth of the Deerfield River. It really isn’t fair you don’t…


Just a single bascule gate open with thin spill at Turners Falls Dam, May 20, 2020. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge, back arrow to return to text)

Case in point: as of May 20, 2020, Holyoke Dam had passed some 130,000 American shad upstream. Enough federal and state fisheries data from studies has been produced to safely estimate that as many as 100,000 may have arrived at Turners Falls, just 36 miles distant, still heading upstream. The only data from Turners Falls Dam was reported as of May 8, 2020, showing a total of 38 shad successfully passing that site…

In the interest of good relations, I’d like to invite you downstream to experience what you’re missing. After all, everyone has a right to a living Connecticut River. Some of us just have a little more right, while others—living upstream, have forever had almost none at all. Ironically, that none even includes Bay State residents living in the towns of Greenfield, Gill, Turners Falls, Erving, and Northfield. An ocean connection for them is barely perceptible as well.

But for the rest of you far northerners, whether you live in Vernon, Brattleboro, Dummerston, Putney, Westminster or Bellows Falls VT–or Walpole, Westmoreland, Chesterfield, or Hinsdale NH, please come visit your river where it at least still remains partly tethered to its ancient ocean connection. It’s worth the trip.

And, why not bring along fishing pole?—because, truth is, we’ve been hanging on to your fish here for decades. Most of the hundreds of thousands of migrating shad, blueback herring and sea lamprey here annually never get past the Turners Falls Dam—becoming mired in the 2-1/2 mile long Dead Reach and canal diversion leading up to that ponderous obstruction. Turners Falls is where your living river connection with the ocean, ends. Thus, including all three states, 15 towns have been robbed.

Really, come down and experience what us “haves”, have. Meet us at the cull de sac of the Connecticut here, and we’ll show you where your thousands of fish are foundering. They were promised you way back in 1967, but you never received them. This is a peek at the river your kids should be experiencing at up at home today, and the one that’s the birth right of their grand kids decades into the future. Somebody should’ve stood up long ago. There should have been a lawsuit.

BTW: there’s even a free fishing weekend down here on June 6 and 7, where you don’t even need a license to toss in a line. Come! There should still be good numbers of shad and lamprey fighting the good fight upstream–right up to the dead end dam in this largely impassible reach. You need not come far; your ocean connection ends abruptly here in Turners Falls.


The ponderous–difficult for shad to find and access, fish ladder below Turners Falls Dam, May 20, 2020. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge)

If you don’t feel like waiting, and want to catch the peak of the run here in the next week or so, just grab a short term fishing license at the MA Wildlife website. Honestly though, I’m not sure they deserve your business. Massachusetts Division of Fish & Wildlife was the only entity with specific rights to intervene over the last 50 years in the federal (FERC) license governing fish passage conditions at Turners Falls if conditions changed. In the first decade of this century, the long-paltry (6-7%) fish passage success beyond that dam evaporated down to less than 1% percent in some years. That plunge began right after Massachusetts deregulated its electricity generating markets. Those were your fish! That was your last remaining thread of an ocean connection. MDFW did nothing. Like I said, there should’ve been a lawsuit. They sat on their hands. We let you down.

For that reason alone, please come and visit. Come fish. Pop on a shad dart. We’ll be happy to social distance with you.Try your luck where your fish are stuck!

And if you don’t happen to be an angler–but just want to experience what the remains of an ocean- connected ecosystem look like, bring a folding chair and just enjoy the spectacle. A living river can be quite inspiring. And witnessing sleek, healthy fish that have travelled thousands of ocean-going miles and then 120 miles upstream here to their ancient spawning grounds, might just encourage you to take action. You deserve this. And, we know exactly where your lost fish are trapped today—the same places they’ve been spinning their upstream migratory wheels and energies for decades.

The best way to locate the nearest ocean connection on the Connecticut here is to go where the currents are—go where there is still flow in the riverbed. That’s where the agitated shad will be, trying to discover and fight their way through promising upstream currents. They want to go into the flow, but that’s the bit tricky down here–as the power company is constantly jacking the currents up, down, and all around. That’s why its the river’s dead-end. Those see-saw currents and flow diversions are tricking the shad into alien industrial flows producing endless streams of what’s called “false attraction.”

Some sites, as you will see at the company’s Station # 1 outflow into the river adjacent to the Turners Falls Power Canal, dump their industrial effluent, back into the river while creating just a few small amount of hydro power.. That false upstream signal to migrating shad essentially traps them there–for hours or days on end, spending energy in that false current as they await an open upstream path that never comes.

For anglers not tied to anything like a natural setting, the Station #1site teems with scores and scores of tricked shad, ripe for the hooking. It’s a supremely ironic dead end for the fish and run—nosing for hours into a nowhere current. But, for fish-in-a-barrel anglers, this sad site can be a slam dunk.

Other sites are rather more “scenic,” but the same waffling, insufficient flows ultimately lead to dead-end routes for the vast majority of the fish run. Less than 1 fish in 10 annually ever make emerge out of the Turners Falls Power Canal–which all must pass through before popping out beyond that dam toward your Vermont and New Hampshire doorsteps. Most just give up.

Anyway, here are some visit/witnessing recommendations from my personal investigations on May 20, 2020:

Ocean Dead End Stop # 1: Turners Falls Dam, Turners Falls. Take I-91 south to Rt. 2 East. Rt. 2 E to the second set of lights, where you turn left over the Turners Falls Bridge. Park just over the bridge near the Great Falls Discover Center and find your way across the little power canal bridge and down to the river. Note that the paltry flow is unlikely to be drawing any shad upstream to the dam and fish ladder.

Lone, disappointed shad angler in low flows below dam: look far left at center, adjacent to the bend in fish ladder. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge and view; then back arrow)

Ocean Dead End Stop # 2: Station # 1, your false attraction fishing hole. Follow the above directions—crossing the bridge into Turners Falls. Make an immediate right after passing the Great Falls Discover Center. Continue straight after the stop sign, and then make the second right, going over the SECOND, one-way bridge there. Continue along until you see the brick outline of Station # 1 on the right, adjacent to the river. If they are dumping good current here, the fish will be stacked up like sardines, nosing into the flow that will not allow them a path upstream. Anglers fish both sides of this outflow. You’ll find the paths. An exhausting dead end, for your share of the shad run. The two gents here landed 3 shad in the 10 minutes I lingered there.

Station # 1, exhausting attraction flow leading…nowhere. Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge and view; then back arrow)

Station # 1, fish-in-a-barrel fishing! Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge and view; then back arrow)

Station # 1, bring on the net! Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge and view; then back arrow)

Ocean Dead End Stop # 3: the Rock Dam. Continue with the above directions and go along past Station # 1, winding around until you come to G Street. Go right and continue south on G Street—do not recross the canal, or you’ll be off track. Continue down G Street to the end, where it becomes, rather ironically, “Migratory Way,” beyond the sign for the US Geological Services Silvio O. Conte Anadramous Fish Research Center. Follow this route down to the parking turnouts adjacent to the canal, and walk down the path there leading to Cabot Woods.

At the Cabot Woods site you will find a few picnic tables, but, most importantly, several severely eroded paths down to the Rock Dam. Flows to this site, critically important to endangered shortnose sturgeon, have already been tamped down enough to chase those ancient fish out of their spawning ground here. But, those same tamped-down flows weeks later here are keeping tricked shad into thinking the viable upstream flows through the notches here will somehow magically return, giving them a viable route. Sadly, they are not going anywhere. Again, some pretty good fishing here this day. These 5 anglers grabbed three in the 25 minutes I stayed along shore.

Fishing in the oft cul-de-sac attraction flow at the Rock Dam.
Photo Copyright © 2020 by Karl Meyer ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. (Click X 3 to enlarge and view; then back arrow)

Note: there are far more shad struggling just downstream–attracted by the outflow of the Cabot Station hydro site. But there’s no good fishing access to these flows, some of which are designed to lead the shad into what’s been described as the “world’s longest ladder for shad,” by fisheries biologist Dr. Boyd Kynard. It’s a brutal exercise–fishladder 66 steps to fight through, which dumps them into the alien flows and environments of the power canal…

So, that’s where your fish are. Down here, where the ocean connection breaks. Come and visit! Then, take us to court to get what you deserve. It’s your river too!

From the Rutland Herald: Where our fish are trapped

Posted by on 16 Nov 2015 | Tagged as: 5-year FERC licensing process, American shad, Bellows Falls, Connecticut River, Connecticut River migratory fisheries restoration, False attraction, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, FERC licensing process, New Hampshire, Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Project, Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station, Rutland Herald, shad, shad fishing, The Great Eddy, Turners Falls, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, US Fish & Wildlife Service, USFWS, Vermont Yankee, Vernon Dam Fishway


The following piece, with edits, appeared in the Rutland Herald on November 12, 2015.

Dear Vermont and New Hampshire:

Sorry, but your fish are down here in Massachusetts. With Vermont Yankee’s heated discharges no longer clouding issues, that’s become clear. We’re talking hundreds of thousands annually. This year a quarter million might’ve reached Vernon and Hinsdale had we not corralled them. A hundred thousand in the Great Eddy at Bellows Falls might’ve been a possibility.

And these aren’t small fry. These are free-swimming American shad straight from the briny Atlantic—wild fish that snap at lures and offer anglers an honest fight. Fresh caught and sweet, they’re a homegrown harvest for anyone taking the time to debone them or put them in the slow roaster. You could’ve been enjoying all that.

Actually you were promised them by the US Fish & Wildlife Service and state fisheries agencies back in 1967. They’d arrive in the 1980s–when much-touted fish passage facilities got built downstream. Each successive dam would pass 75% of the fish passed by the dam below it. Yet only excuses arrived. You weren’t told your fish got caught in a trap—that the Turners fish ladder diversion was a disaster; that your shad run dies in a muck-filled power canal. That’s where your bounty is still driven from the river today—where fish get diverted into a last-chance canal from which few emerge upstream.

We’ve now had the first spring where VY’s discharge has not intercepted spring runs. It appears the nuke played a smaller role than long-rumored concerning dismal fish passage at Turners. Heated effluent ain’t great for any species–but fish deprived of a river are an unending ecosystem disaster.

The 2-1/2 miles below Turners Falls Dam are that disaster. Down here government agencies don’t require anything approaching sustaining nature-like flows in the Connecticut’s bed. It’s either deluge or desert—much of it produced by the mega-flushing and pumping flows Northfield Mountain Pumped Storage Station sends downstream. Part of that blistering regime gets re-diverted into the power canal 5 miles south—a trap each upstream migrant is funneled into.

That canal is where a great migration dies—where fish get delayed; fatigued, entrapped and eviscerated. Not one in ten shad have made it beyond Turners Falls across the decades. It’s not rocket science to understand–in fact, the math just got a little simpler.

The years 2013 and 2014 were the final years Vermont Yankee was heating the river. Of the 393,000 American shad passing Holyoke Dam in 2013, just 9% or 35,000 fish made it past Turners. Yet of those 35,000 fish, 18,000 or 51% swam safely past Vernon–20 miles upstream. Similarly in 2014 of the 371,000 shad passing Holyoke, just 40,000 or 11% were able to get through the canal past TF Dam. But of the 40,000 that made it, a full 28,000 or 69%, swam beyond Vernon toward upstream destinations.

Turners’ fishways opened in 1980; Vernon’s in-river fishway in 1981. Across the decades the annual average of shad passing Holyoke that make it past Turners is 4%. In the same span, Vernon averaged passage of 40% of the shad arriving from Turners. Passage at Turners hovered near 1% for the decade beginning in 2000 when deregulation began allowing Northfield Mountain to pump and profit from the river according to price peaks on the electricity “spot market.” Those peaking pulses decimate river habitats below Turners Falls.

Which is why 2015 proved interesting. This spring, with VY silent, the Federal Energy Regulatory Commission ordered a series of nature-like test flows to be sent through the gates at Turners Falls Dam into the impoverished riverbed–to gauge their impact on the public’s fish runs. It’s part of the 5-year FERC licensing process for Northfield and Turners. At Holyoke 413,000 shad passed upstream, while at Turners just 14% or 58,000 shad passed the dam. Yet 20 miles north, 69% or 40,000 of those fish, swam past Vernon Dam—an all-time record for shad passage there.

So here’s some math: Turners passed 9% in 2013; 11% in 2014, and 14% in 2015. Vernon passed 51% of their shad in 2013, 69% in 2014, and 68% in 2015. The difference between a year with VY’s heated effluent, and one without—was insignificant, a 1% change with shad passage actually dropping a fraction with Yankee silenced. Yet they still set a new shad passage record.

It’s noteworthy the 34 year-old Vernon record was broken the first time more in-river flow was required below Turners Falls Dam, supplying a direct route upstream during FERC’s May-June test flows. It clearly spared some fish the energy costs of industrial entrapment and the dangers of weeks in a turbine-lined canal.

The problem is that canal, and a decimated river at Turners Falls. You’ve been owed fish totaling in the millions across the decades–and an ancient connection to the sea all kids should know. They’re not the power company’s fish, they’re yours. Demand federal and state fisheries directors sue for those fish—and for the Connecticut River refuge your grandkids deserve.

With apologies,
Karl Meyer, Greenfield, MA

Writer Karl Meyer is participating in the FERC hydro relicensing studies for MA facilities on the Connecticut River. He is a member of the Society of Environmental Journalists.

On “false attraction” at Turners Falls

Posted by on 24 May 2015 | Tagged as: American shad, canal shad, Connecticut River, Connecticut River ecosystem, False attraction, Federal Energy Regulatory Commission, FERC, FERC licensing process, FirstLight, Fish passage results, Holyoke Fish Lift, New Hampshire, Relicensing, Rock Dam, Rock Dam Pool, shad, shad fishing, Station 1, Test flows, Turners Falls, Turners Falls dam, Turners Falls power canal, Vermont

On “false attraction” at Turners Falls

No, this is not about sex—well OK, maybe a little. But it’s different than how you might see someone 200 yards up the trail and think, “Wow, looking good!”—only to discover on a closer pass that they are a different sex than the one that drives you, or they are decades older or younger than the person you were expecting to see. This is about spawning though—about squashing the spawning efforts of migratory fish.

False Attraction Flow is a phenomenon where migratory fish follow flows upstream that lead them to impassable barriers. These flows are created by flood and head gate releases at dam and canal sites, and they keep wild fish expending precious energy that would otherwise be used to swim to upstream river reaches to spawn.

5/24/2015 Today, FERC Relicensing Study test flow releases to the riverbed at Turners Falls Dam are set at 2,500 cubic feet per second. The weather is clear, warm.
P1000454

At 1p.m. I visit the ancient Rock Dam site on the Connecticut, where three people are fishing—a woman and two young men. The woman has just landed a shad. She has not been here long.

One young guy is just upstream. He says he’s been getting some hits, but nothing landed. He notes that he’s also a recent arrival.

I clamber up the cliff that looks down on the Rock Dam Pool. Shad are looping by in a constant stream, visible just to the outer edge of the bubbly rip. The light is so good I can see them almost straight down beneath me, as they are only five feet out from the cliff face at times. What is also apparent is that some turn back after making the approach to the whitewater that would take them through notches they must best to pass this natural falls. I see many turn in the current–cutting back against the school, then milling for a bit in the current.
(Below, is the flow downstream, away from Rock Dam–two people with fish poles are in kayaks)
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All the while, the stream of shad beneath me trying to find a way upstream is constant. Always a run of more fish—ten, twenty–hard to get a count as they spurt along. The spectacle is reminiscent of the old medieval representation of the ocean’s fish in constant circulation around the globe. Here, they simply keep appearing in an endless line. There is no telling if the 2,500 cfs is just too low for them to risk the rough, rocky edges of the Rock Dam’s clefts to move ahead. They get lost from view in the bubbly current. What it appears like, overall, is that these fish are stuck—streaming in, agitated to move upstream, but not finding a clear path forward at this flow.

I toss a question over to the furthest guy upstream near the headwaters over this basalt rock face. He says he’s seeing plenty of fish, but hasn’t brought in one yet.

On the way out I ask the woman if she’s going to cook up the good-sized shad she has laid out in the shallows. “Will you slow cook it?” I ask, “Or do you know how to dress them?” She is going to cook it up, but describes a method of cutting through center, just to get out some of those hundreds of delicate bones, and then toasting it up. “After it’s done, you can just get in there and get at the meat with a spoon.”

She asks me where my rod and reel are, and I tell her I’m really here to document flows—so that maybe someday we can all count on fish being here. I continue up the beach. “I’m hoping when I open this one there are some eggs in there,” she says, motioning over at her catch. She’d be delighted to fry up some roe. “Yea, that’s a pretty big fish,” I say, “I’m guessing it’s a female.” I bid her good luck for the day.

I get back on my bike and follow the Turners Falls Power Canal all the way upstream through The Patch section of Turners, and then down past Station 1–FirstLight’s small hydro generating site located on a dog-leg off the main canal. There’s a lone car down the paved drive that leads to the fishing access. When I scoot down to look over, the tailrace at Station 1 is charged with current. FirstLight is generating at this site, despite the test flow requirement that water only be released from the Turners Falls Dam at the 2,500 cfs level today. This will corrupt and skew fish passage study results.
P1000450

I walk down and meet the young guy fishing just off the edge of Station 1’s frothy spillway. James is from Greenfield, and “yup,” he fishes the site pretty regular. He’s just finished landing one. It’s unceremoniously laid out in the sandy silt. Smallish. “When there’s water here there are always fish,” he notes. I ask him if he wouldn’t mind my snapping a few photos and he’s fine with it, “You’re not in my way.” He points to the water, not a few feet out from where he is, “You see them all there?” I look, but don’t see much but shadowy, sun-dappled water. I stare a bit more, then start snapping pictures of the flows.
P1000448

When I come back down from near the tailrace I look again in the current. This time my angle to the sun is better. There are the shad. Dozens of them, stacked up in the current facing upstream into an endless, impassable sheet of water. “Now I see them,” I say, “Too bad they aren’t going anywhere.” “Yea,” James notes, “they are just stuck here.” I snap a photo of his dusty catch and wish him luck for the day.
P1000447
P1000449

As I come up to the road from Station 1 there are two young boys, maybe eleven or twelve years old, walking along with poles and fishing tackle. They appear to be headed further on, to try their luck in the canal dog-leg. “Hey, what are you guys going after, shad?” “Anything!” they both say in concert. “If you head just down there,” I say, pointing, “There’s a guy just caught one. There’s dozens of fish waiting in the current—you can look right down and see them.” A quick glimmer passes between them, and they say thanks, heading down the driveway. “There’s a bit of poison ivy on the path. Watch for it.” I call, riding away.

I continue up to the Turners Falls Dam, where the flow is still at 2,500 cfs, the lowest test flow setting. There were not supposed to be any other intervening flows confounding these tests all the way downstream to the end of the power canal. The only time Station 1 is supposed to be operating during test flows is when dam releases ramp up to 6,300 cfs. The Fisheries and Aquatics Studies Team had worked out the schedule with FERC, and FirstLight agreed to it. This appears to be a clear violation of study protocols, and it throws into question fish passage results here.
P1000456

I cross the road on the Turners Falls Bridge, and peer over the side just downstream of the dam. A few people are fishing in the flow next to the Spillway Fish Ladder. I yell down to the closest angler. He’s fairly close to where Bascule Gate 1 is pouring down those 2,500 cfs. He doesn’t hear me over the rush of water. I yell again; he looks all around—then, on the third time, he looks up. I’m maybe 80 feet above him and we can’t really converse. “How is it?” yell, mimicking with the thumbs up/thumbs down gesture. At first he doesn’t pick it up, but when I do it again, he gives the thumbs down.

I’m not surprised. With all the false attraction flow at the Rock Dam Pool from the added water released by FirstLight at Station 1, there is little flow here in the broad reach of the Connecticut that would temp fish away from treading water at those sites into these thin upstream currents. The fish are basically being tricked; they are expending precious energy that could be used to get upstream to Vermont and New Hampshire just running down their batteries downstream. Imagine treading water on an aquatic, industrial treadmill that’s trying to lure them into a power canal. If you are a Vermont or New Hampshire angler, just understand that these swam their little fins off trying to spawn up on your stretch of river. The lure of false attraction just got the better of them.
P1000451

When I take a look at the head gates at the head of the Turners Falls Canal they appear all but quiet, save for the bubbling attraction currents that help lead fish into the Gatehouse Fishway —the place where the public will see them passing. The main and only place where these fish are getting a substantial upstream current that leads to this site is…yup!—2-1/2 miles downstream at the tail end of the power canal at Cabot Station. That’s likely where these fish are really being attracted–and tallied, as some that are actually radio-tagged for these studies are being registered. Humn! That would certainly skew study results toward fish “preferring” the canal…

There’s a long tradition among American shad themselves–and the fisheries biologists that have studied fish passage at Turners Falls over the decades. Study results sometimes show a remarkable uptick in fish passage at the Turners Falls Fishway on holiday weekends when the public is most likely to visit. The fish just seem to just know exactly when it’s Memorial Day Weekend. Even in those years when passage is poor for most of the month of May, those shad seem to just love to appear in the fishway windows at the holiday weekend. It’s uncanny how the fish know. Ironic, really. Not like they are being manipulated…

What would also be uncanny would be if FirstLight had their “most successful canal passage year” ever–right at the time when the studies that impact relicensing flows are taking place. Last year, when 370,000 shad were lifted past Holyoke Dam, just 39,914 made it out of the canal and upstream past Turners Falls Dam. Not a great number. In 2013, when 381,436 shad were passed upstream at Holyoke, just 35,124 made it out of the canal and upstream past Turners Falls. A slightly worse number.

For the last 15 years the canal route for migratory fish has been studied and “improved” for fish passage. Today’s numbers are still pretty much junk.

As a final testament to the lack of progress let’s go back almost a quarter century: in 1991 the Holyoke Fish Lift passed 520,000 American shad upstream. Of those, 54,656 shad managed to emerge, alive, upstream of the Turners Falls Canal and dam, to swim toward Vermont and New Hampshire spawning site.

Thus, a quarter-century later, migrating American shad here are still “partying like its 1991.” False attraction–and false solutions, are very closely related here at Turners Falls. Study results are compromised.

Vermont, New Hampshire, sorry but as an ecosystem, we are still broken up. Just know this: “It’s not you, it’s US!”