Out by the sixth bridge in Jasper National Park there鈥檚 a dilapidated, semi-torn down building that once was the park鈥檚 fish hatchery, warden offices, and more recently, staff housing for Parks Canada. It鈥檚 a beautiful, surreal site, with peaceful vistas, spacious views, and open meadows carpeted with native grasses. The whisper of rustling aspens and the murmur of the Maligne River are the only discernible sounds.
It was once recognized as a federal heritage building because of its historical, architectural and environmental values and it reflected aesthetics favoured by Parks Canada from the early-to mid-20th century. Despite these attributes, the once proud structure is being torn down and the site reclaimed.
In the 1920s and 1930s it was all about the fishing. In those years Parks was trying to attract more visitors and a preferred and popular activity was fishing. The native fish, such as whitefish, which had sustained the fur traders of the 1800s, were netted at Talbot Lake, just east of Jasper. But the anglers of the 1920s didn鈥檛 want whitefish, they wanted trout, and trout they eventually got.
By the early 1930s Parks established a makeshift fish hatchery in the basement of the Info Centre. To meet the growing demand, parks happily stocked lakes and streams throughout JNP with non-native species such as, eastern brook, speckled and rainbow trout, and a hybrid called splake.
The demand for fish was so great, that in 1942 a large fish hatchery was constructed near the sixth bridge on the Maligne River. Scientists that weren鈥檛 on the war effort payroll racked their brains to improve mountain park trout fisheries. The beautiful building and the outlying fishponds became a fish-producing factory. At the time, the Canadian Wildlife Service (CWS) encouraged JNP鈥檚 fish hatchery program to expand. In fact, during the fish hatchery bonanza of the mid-1960s, JNP was breeding over one million fry (young fish) to be let loose into lakes and streams in the western national parks.
With fishing, came the need for more trails to access many of the lakes and streams. The trail system around the town of Jasper was improved and expanded. Mina, Riley, Patricia, Cabin, Caledonia, Pyramid, Hibernia, Marjorie, Saturday Night, Minnow, Dorothy, Christine, Cutt and Golden are just some of the lakes that were stocked and required trails to access them.
The park wardens of that time were assigned to keep the fishing program running smoothly, duties included transporting the young fry from the hatchery to lakes and streams, enforcing fishing regulations, monitoring caches and the quality of fish in the lakes. For remote backcountry lakes, they transported the young fry in specially designed fish-carrying boxes. Apparently these aquarium boxes sloshed, jiggled, jostled and gurgled, which made the horses on edge. Many wardens in those days remarked that, 鈥渁 young trout learned how to fly before he learned how to swim.鈥�
According to historical records, everyone was having a good time; visitors and locals blitzed up the trails with fishing rods in hand, excited to angle for trout in the stocked lakes. What they didn鈥檛 realize was that something ecologically sinister was happening to the lakes. With the blessing and support of CWS artificial spawning beds for trout were created by dumping gravel on lake bottoms, weed control chemicals were dumped into Mildred Lake and starting in 1956, many lakes were poisoned. The goal was to kill all of the native fish before the trout fingerlings were released.
All of this might sound bizarre and outrageous, but it鈥檚 important to remember, this was the norm at that time, and thankfully Parks Canada, scientists and biologists have learned from their mistakes. The hatchery program continued until 1972, when CWS and Parks started to question why they were stocking lakes. In a twist of fate, a viral disease infected the fish-hatching mecca of JNP and by 1974, just like that, it was over. All fish hatchery operations ceased, anglers mourned, docks started to rot and trails started to grow in.
The once-federally recognized building is currently being demolished piece by piece. The concrete fishponds have been ripped up, filled in and native grasses planted. All outlying buildings, which housed Parks staff and hatchery operations are now gone. Once the final remnants of the building are gone the entire site will be reclaimed, rehabilitated and will be used as a cultural and spiritual site for aboriginal groups with historic ties to JNP.
The site is still surreal; long grasses bend with the slightest breeze and whim, the aspen leaves still seductively rustle, the Maligne River chats quietly away, but there is a collected sigh of closure. The lakes and streams have recovered, allowing anglers to cast their lines into the lakes catching a variety of fish. The trails have found new love, thanks to hikers and bikers, and the old fish hatchery site is welcoming back the first people who travelled these lands.
Loni Klettl
Special to the 51暗网
