April 10, 1998

      The Disappearance and Return of The Pilchards to Barclay Sound as predicted in 1940 By A Nuu-Cha-Nulth Elder

A recent news item reported that the pilchards had returned to Barclay Sound. This story tells something of their importance to the local fishing industry and the disappearance some fifty years ago, and an old Native Elder at Clo-Oose who predicted their disappearance and their return after fifty years It was another trip on the Department of Fisheries patrol boat, the "Egret's Plume" and the mission was to assess the annual salmon spawning run into Nitinaht Lake. At the wheel of the small fisheries patrol boat was the DOF patrol officer E.P. (Nighty) Nightingale. His helper was Jim Spencer, who spent a year working for the DOF after his discharge from the Canadian army after the end of world war two.

It was early in the morning when the little ship rounded Pachena Point on its way to Clo--Oose. The sea was calm, hardly a ripple to be seen when Nightingale, looking out from the wheel house was amazed to see the surface of the water practically covered with the little jelly fish known as :”Portuguese Man-o-War" as far as the eye could see. They had their little sails up and were tacking in the slight breeze similar to the way in which a sailboat operates in such a breeze when sailing along.
Jim was down in the galley making breakfast when Nighty called him up to see the spectacle. Jim climbed up to the wheel house and there they were, thousands of them all sailing merrily along. Nighty and Jim discussed this phenomenon for a few minutes and then they decided to put a bucket over the side and pick up few of them to send to the department labs for an analysis. This they did and Jim put then into a saucer in the forecastle. They then continued on their way to Clo-Oose. When they checked the little jelly fish they had practically disintegrated in the saucer, turning into a little blob of blue colored goo by the time they reached their destination at Clo--Oose.

Upon arriving at the little Native village, they found one of the elders busy on the beach making a dugout canoe out of a cedar log. They told him about their discovery of this multitude of jelly fish with their little sails' whereupon the old Native Elder said in his inimitable way, "too bad,'(' "too bad.") Jimmie was puzzled by this answer and asked, Why? why is it too bad? "Pilchards gone for fifty years." was the reply. Upon further discussion and questions they were able to get the old gentleman to explain that in the Native folklore as he had heard it told by his grandparents, it was known that for a long time in the ancient past - the appearance of such a hoard of Portuguese Man-o-War jellyfish signaled the departure of the pilchards; and that when this happened, it would be fifty years before they would return. This phenomenon, caused by ocean currents and changing water temperatures is explained in a department of fisheries analysis further on in the story. So here we are in 1998, fifty two years later and the pilchards which disappeared in 1947, are now back again in 1998. So it is clear that the old Native Elder had rightly predicted both the disappearance and the return of these schools of Pilchards which had provided so much bounty of the sea for so long in the area of the southern coast and Barclay Sound. Details of this bonanza and its effect upon the economy of Barclay Sound and the West Coast follow in the story.

I remember when I fist worked at Alberni Plywoods in the early 1940's, schools of pilchards would come up the inlet, come tight under the south end of the mill when the tide was high and be gathered in schools along the beach in front of the Polly Point Reservation. They would be so thick in the water that the little native children would run down from the houses and pick them up right out of the water and go running up to the houses. There were so many pilchards crowded along the beach they couldn't get away and could be caught by picking them right out of the water by hand. Other old-timers tell of catching them by the dozens right along the beach between the APD mill and present Harbour Quay for many years. The pilchard harvesting provided an opportunity for many people in the Barclay Sound area to make a living through the hard times in the thirties snd up until their disappearance in the 1940's.

A great deal of the pilchard harvest went into reduction plants at Ecoole, Kildonan, Toquart Bay, SanMateo Bay, Grappler Creek. Ucluelet, Sarita and other places in Barclay Sound. and other areas on the south coast of B.C. The oil was extracted, and the rest of the fish was made into fish meal and shipped out in sacks for fertilizer, animal feed and other uses.. The oil was used in many products, such as paint, soap, salad dressing, etc. A considerable amount of the fish was canned and sold for human consumption, but it was never very popular probably because it was so extremely oily, and the market for it was rather restricted. During the hungry thirties it was packed in cans and was available in grocery stores all over the country. "Snow Cap" pilchards was one of the popular brands and I believe it was produced at Ecoole by Nelson Brothers who, with "B. C. Packers," owners of the cannery and reduction plant at Kildonan operated the two biggest cannery and reduction plant installations on the coast. The two companies finally merged, with B.C. Packers absorbing Nelson Brothers and still operating under the B.C. Packers name. Pilchard was a staple diet in our home north of Kamloops and used regularly. We usually ate it with mashed potatoes which absorbed the oil and made it quite delicious, at least to my taste as a growing teenager. It was the cheapest fish we could buy in those days.

Old timers tell of two big steel tanks which were installed on pilings beside the old CPR dock just south of the present Harbour Quay where the oil was received from the reduction plants and stored. When sufficient quantity had been accumulated it would be taken to the markets in tank cars on the railway. This was an important by product of the pilchard industry. The pilchards had been very important to the Nuu-Cha-Nulth people living along the west coast for thousands of years.. Very rich in oil they could be burned like a candle for lighting, if one could stand the smell, but evidently they were used for this purpose by the natives if no alternative was available. Checking with the extensive archives of the Alberni District Historical Society I was fortunate to find valuable materials and records of the pilchard industry on the west coast of Vancouver Island. Among these materials was an article by Mr. T. W. Paterson which had been printed in the Victoria Daily Colonist magazine section of Sunday, March 12th 1967. This article was headlined:

What Became of the Pilchards?
Star of the marine mystery is the pilchard (sardinops caerules). "A moderate sized fish of the herring family, "says a department of fisheries fact sheet, "it can be told from herring by its rounded body form (it is nearly round in cross-section whereas a herring is considerably flattened), by the dark spots on the back and sides, by the fine radiating ridges on the gill cover, and by the small flaps on the tail. The article goes on to say:

Pilchards are dark steely blue above and silvery below, with a yellowish sheen around the head in fresh specimens. In general, the pilchards taken by the Canadian fishery are larger than herrings. Nearly all pilchards taken in Canada are more than nine inches long and individuals over 11 inches are not uncommon.

"Feeding principally on diatoms (small plants which float freely in the sea) and copepods (small shrimp like crustaceans) which they sieve from the water through numerous long, gill-like rakers, the pilchard is a wanderer. From the former spawning grounds 200 miles off southern California, each summer young pilchards make short migrations north - and south again in the autumn. Older ones make longer trips and the oldest and largest pilchards travel north to B.C. in the summer and back to California in the autumn. A pilchard would be for or five years old when he paid his maiden voyage to our   waters.   
Pilchards first appeared in abundance off B.C. in 1925. (This needs to be understood in light of the long history of the First Nations people going back thousands of years, during which there were many such migrations) sparking the greatest boom in the Pacific fishing industry ever experienced. As early as 1917, at least one cannery had experimentally packed several thousand cases, only to become discouraged when the new product failed to sell. "Suddenly" writes George Nicholson in "Vancouver Island's West Coast" "the waters adjacent to the west coast of Vancouver Island appeared to be live with them; schools acres in extent were frequently observed.For years previously2the sardine industry in southern California had been in full swing. A percentage of the catch by US law, had to be canned for human consumption, the balance processed into meal and oil. Coincidentally with ~ increased demand for these latter a-n products for agriculture and manufacturing purposes, it was discovered that the pilchard found off our coast was the same fish, only considerable larger. Also, that grown to maturity, its oil content was far greater in proportion to its size than when caught further south as a sardine.

B.C. fishermen needed no prompting to get into the act. The next three years were reminiscent of the gold stampedes which opened up B.C.'s hinterland Almost a century      before. 26 pilchard reduction plants - costing up to $250,000.00 each - blossomed in the hundred odd miles between Kyuquot and Barclay Sound. A thousand men operated the busy plants and more than 200 seiners, tugs and scows during the 41/2 month season. Sites for the reduction plants had been at a premium, Major Nicholson recalled Prime requisites were good penetration for pile driving, shelter for boats and docks, and above all a plentiful fresh water supply. Construction crews could ask any price for their hire.  Victoria and Vancouver shipyards worked night and day building seine boats and scows while fishing companies vied with one another in a mad scramble to show up with greater capacities and in greater bulk. Shipping companies cashed in on the boom, profiting from a swelling need for coastal freighters and tankers to handle the products and supply the mushrooming settlements. California canning interests made their pile by supplying the expensive processing equipment.

The Harvesting Methods:
Usually a 70 foot seiner would operate in company of a tender, the former carrying seven men, the latter five. Once a school of pilchard had been sighted by a "discoloured area on the surface with occasional flipping individuals. (There was no modern radio and echo sounding equipment available in those days) The seiner would encircle the school with its net, 1200 feet long and 120 feet deep. The purse seine would have one edge supported by floats, the other weighted by lead. A cable running along the lead edge would draw the net closed underneath the school, then the catch would be dumped into the tender's yawning hold. The biggest catches were made in mid August. Millions of valuable pilchards were hauled into the seiner's nets, to be hauled ashore to the reduction plants by scows. Then this unusual visitor from the south offered his first surprise: From his favourite sheltered waters Kyuquot, Nootka, Clayoquot and Barclay Sound, the pilchard moved out to sea - a long way out. This dramatic change in habit caused the fishermen no little confusion at first-not to mention expense. The smaller seiners which had reaped such rich harvests in the inlets could not brave the heavy swells of the open sea. Nor could the flat bottomed scows . This meant bigger seiners and modern 100 ton packers.

Consequently, the smaller plants could not compete and in less than then 15 years, 16 of them had closed shop. The surviving giants had a few years left. The fishermen then turned their attention to herring, which were also processed into meal and oil in addition to being canned. A single catch or (“set” in fishermen's language) by one boat usually averaged from 50 to 200 tons, but sets of 500 tons were sometimes made by one boat. In the latter case several other boats would go to her assistance, sharing the catch. One boat's catch for the season averaged about 2,500 tons. When all 25 plants were in operation considerably more than 100,000 tons of pilchards would be the average season's catch. Fishermen were paid on a tonnage basis, shared equally by the various crews, with the skippers receiving an additional bonus. With the fish in good condition, 45 gallons of oil was obtained from one ton of fish. Then suddenly the pilchard was gone! Where did the Pilchards go?

After a light harvest of 15,000 tons in 1944,rhermen returned to port again and again, having traveled as far south as Oregon, with light or empty holds. In 1949 only 67 tons of meal were produced, it was not enough. The $2 million dollar industry was dead. California. Ghost fleets lay sadly at their moorings, never to sail again after the identifying splash of the pilchard.
Biologists have come up with several theories, but few solid answers after years of extensive study. It is known that he is to be found today (1961) in the warm waters off Mexico, Japan, China Australia, South Africa and France. Is B.C.'s continental shelf too cold for him?

His annual appearance in these waters so many years ago coincided with above normal temperatures and an abundant supply of his favourite morsel. diatoms. His arrival closely coincided with another southern visit to the jellyfish, Pongees Man-o-War. Although these conditions have been met in past summers, still no pilchards.  Subsequent study supports this charge, while offering hope - faint hope - to Canadian Another observation was his reluctance to visit here during seasons when the local small fish population was high, as during the years 1936, 1940/42. B.C. fishermen consoled themselves with bitter denunciations of the California sardiners, accusing them of having fished the pilchard to extinction.

The decline in Canadian landings resulted from a failure of the pilchards to have really successful spawning since 1939. Few or none of the relatively small numbers of fish which were produced in later years survived to be old enough to make the migration to Canadian fishing grounds.

It now appears that the Canadian pilchard fleet will not have satisfactory fishing until there has been one satisfactory spawning or a sequence of satisfactory spawnings successful enough to survive the intensive California fishery in sufficient numbers. Enforced conservation regulations by American authorities in recent years may yet allow pilchards to reach B.C. Waters.
In December, 1966, the Federal fisheries department halted all herring fishing off Vancouver Island, due to an alarming decrease in spawning. Will B.C.'s second most important fish, 4.I million in 1964, follow its southern cousin the pilchard into oblivion?

The First Nations, Nuu-Cha-Nuth people who lived for many generations along the west coast of the Island had none of the modern means of communication or the modern sciences at their disposal. They relied, on the observation of natural rhythms and such phenomena to indicate such occurrences as the appearance or disappearance of the various species of fish' which were so important to their livelihood. These observances became part of the folklore which was handed down through the generations as a sort of folklore which embodied lessons to their descendants.

To them, such events as the appearance of the Portuguese Man-o-War were the signals they used to guide their activities and expectations. The appearance and disappearance of the pilchard specie and the coincidental appearance of the Portuguese Man-o-War. These natural phenomena become a legend, handed down through the generations as part of the folklore of the people who had lived along the coast and who made their living from the sea. It appears these events become associated and served as indicators for the guidance in understanding of the environment from which they obtained their livelihood.

One might wonder why, in our modern day, with all our modern science we see such calamities as the collapse of the Newfoundland fishery and all the hardship involved and locally, the threatened disappearance of the Coho salmon. We might be better off if we followed the ways of the natives leaving the natural rhythms and cycles of nature intact. All our science is worthless, even dangerous, unless we use it intelligently and creatively instead of grabbing every nickel in profit and destroying the resources in the process.

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