Fish passes

Many of the Yorkshire rivers have endured an industrial past that reduced their biological diversity. There are stories that during the industrial revolution the Aire was so heavily polluted on its course through Leeds that it's surface could be set on fire. Thankfully recent years has seen a more enlightened attitude and our rivers have see steady improvements, with some unhelpful dips after pollution events. There are still historic headaches that river managers have to tackle. All the Yorkshire rivers are dotted with weirs built to service the old mills. Whilst these have become a part of the aesthetic nature of riverscapes they pose problems for migratory species including lamprey, eels, salmon and trout that have to navigate their way upstream against barrier after barrier that impedes their rout. In low flows the fish can become trapped behind the smaller weirs. In some locations on the Wharfe, such as at Otley, the weirs effectively stop upstream migration of fish and have drastically altered the food webs of the upstream river system.



The Yorkshire Dales Rivers Trust have recently worked in partnership with the Environment Agency to develop a fish pass with photographic recording equipment at Boston Spa, on the river Wharfe. The pass is now up and running and it is hoped it will enable safe upstream migration for salmon, trout, eels and lamprey. The camera equipment will record each fish that navigates the pass to supply important data on fish movement. Ideally we would aim to provide all the significant unnatural barriers with similar passes but the cost is prohibitive so development of fish passes has to be very selective. In the meantime each fish pass is one more battle won to help improve the river ecosystem.

Redmire falls

Its been a gusty start to the weekend with long spells of swirling rain interspersed with the brightest of autumn sun. The beech and ash trees are vivid yellows and deep coppers. You can follow the track of the wind as it passes and moves down the river bank by the falling leaves. In the strongest gusts it feels as though someone has picked up this pocket of the world and given it a good shaking. One moment the air is empty the next tumbling, spinning, leaves fill it up. The copper leaves twist and turn catching the sun so that they flash like polished bronze.

The river is slowly rising. Ive tried to cross it four times and each time its overtopped my wellies. I get halfway, even further, but am forced to turn back all four times. I got to the tight cataract of water where the river Ure is forced by an upward tilting ledge of limestone down into a bottleneck. This is where the fish will navigate upstream. Here I'm nearly at the far bank and can see that the beech trees are tapped directly into massive beds of grey limestone. Its hard to believe but their roots will force these rocks open, prise them apart so that they tumble into the river. It wont happen here for sometime I think but it will happen.

I have sat and waited here on numerous occasions but still not seen a fish jumping. Today this doesn't bother me because I'm fascinated by the movement of the leaves in the water as they get caught in the current or in eddies. The water by my feet is moving fast and right next to my foot a scour hole holds masses of leaves, they spin in tight circles caught by a twisting current. Its easy to see how pebbles caught in the same place would scrape out a circular pit. In other places leaves are caught against rocks or tangled in mosses. Below the ledge the deep pool is smothered in them. They are massing in rafts in the slower waters of the surface and underneath they move faster caught in the quickest part of the river. It looks like they are sliding beneath the surface leaves.

I sit and wait for an hour or so but nothing happens so I return to the bank and then wade through the shallow edges of the river watching a dipper drop from rocks into the water. It appears to be whirring round, its back causing a rise in the surface so that I can follow its tracks. Everything is spinning and twisting today.

There is a little stream that joins the river on the north bank. I follow it upstream and watch two more dippers, their wings blur as they fly rapidly upstream. Some of the gravel seems to be newly turned and I suspect Ive found a redd. It seems the perfect place, just enough current to replenish the oxygen levels, the gravel is the right size and this spot would only dry out in the deepest, hottest of droughts. I walk round it not wanting to compress the gravel. I think I'll see if I can electro-fish here next spring to see if I'm right.

October rain

After a September with little rainfall October 6th finally brought a decent spell of wet. The rivers responded rapidly swelling up and turing peaty auburn for the first time in weeks. By the time it cleared the Wharfe and Ure where racing and gathering pace. After a dry night they began to drop back and it seemed a good time to look for fish jumping. I headed down to Redmire falls armed with camera and a little hope. A Dipper was sat on a rock beneath Apedale beck and a Heron stood in the shallow edges at the far bank. It reluctantly took to the air, slow wingbeats just managing to get it out the water and away. I headed over the limestone 'steps' and down to the first set of falls. Getting my feet wet I found a good place to sit and I waited there, legs dangling against a mossy boulder, for a couple of hours till dusk set in but nothing stirred, not even a noticeable rise in the pool beneath the falls.

On the way home I stopped at Ballowfields to see if any big trout had moved into the stream there. Too high and fast to see anything. It cant be long now before the fish head up this way so I plan to maintain the vigil in the spare time I get. In the meantime plenty of mapping and writing to be getting on with.