I’m from Lac Seul First Nation and live with my husband and sons at Neyaashiinigmiing. I am a fisherman’s wife, and this is our story about fishing on Georgian Bay, Lake Huron, and how climate change has forced us to give up our way of life.
Many mornings I would wake up knowing my husband was already on the water. I would lay in bed and listen for the wind. Is the house creaking? Are the trees outside our windows swaying?
I would get dressed, get my coffee, check the marine forecast on the computer and head out to the barn to tend to the animals: some horses, chickens, ducks and goats. Again, I would listen and feel for the wind. If the wind was to pick up, I knew it would do so around 11am.
I would imagine my husband going from one net to another. I could picture him just past the community dock, up by the dead cedar or near the green rock. Fishers know these landmarks. I knew he should be off the water by 10am for he normally was out on the water by 6am. I was always aware of the time when he was on the water. It was my only way of knowing if something was wrong. I would be worried but I trusted his knowledge of the winds and water. Many days I would be thankful when I’d see him pulling to the dock.
Winds and climate change are entwined. The worse climate change gets, the higher winds are for us. For fishers that means less days fishing, less income, taking more risks or being caught in a storm that wasn’t in the forecast. It is very stressful for the fishers and their families.
Climate change is also causing our target fish – lake whitefish, a cold water fish – to decline. The waters are warming, and whitefish spawn on shoals; they need ice coverage to protect their babies so they don’t get smashed along the bottom. Warming waters are also welcoming to invasive species.
The day we decided to leave our business was one of our hardest days, walking away from something we loved and something we raised our family on. But the situation we were handed only gave us two options. Option one was to keep pushing through and return to fishing. The second one was to walk away and bring attention to the decline of the whitefish and climate change. It was not easy and I still feel a lump in my chest when I talk about it. Bagida’waad Alliance was already in operation and I funneled my passion into it 100% knowing what we did was the right thing. Not the easy thing - but the right thing.
Story by Natasha Akiwenzie Natasha is an experienced business owner and manager, running a successful provincially regulated fish processing plant and community supported fishery, including selling at Toronto Farmers Markets for 15 years.
Art by Romina Lardies @lufie.nesse. Luise is an art director, illustrator, and graphic designer located in Buenos Aires, Argentina.
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