Don’t know why it happens, but every once in a while the folks who supposedly work for us — known in the realm as “public servants” — need to be reminded for whom they work.
Many times they need to be reminded about why they work, about how some well-intentioned passion steered them in their chosen direction, and how, just maybe, they have forgotten that first passionate spark that began their journey.
This month’s case in point is the Atchafalaya Basin, the “Spillway” as it’s called by most east of that East Guide Levee, that runs a hundred or so miles from Morganza to marshes south of Morgan City, Berwick and Patterson.
This basin is the largest overflow swamp in the United States — yep, our entire country. It’s there just in case a flood poses catastrophic consequences to the ports of Baton Rouge, New Orleans and points south on the last miles of the Mississippi River.
It’s a place of unmatched beauty, if you like swamps.
It’s a place of unmatched productivity for hunters, commercial and recreational fishermen and trappers — well, it used to be.
There’s no way us humans can account for the wealth the Atchafalaya Spillway has given our state, not when it comes to the commercial value of crawfish and finfish brought to markets, and certainly not when it comes to the intrinsic value it provides in the millions of recreational hours spent among its bayous, lakes, canals and backwater swamps.
That said, that’s not why this basin was built, and the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers stands squarely on the side of flood control and navigation, despite a battle waged a little more than 50 years ago to include recreational and economic values in any of its flooding and navigational plans.
“Dead” areas increasing
Today, this once productive basin is dying.
The Corps continues to dredge inside this basin, and instead of moving heavy sediment loads south, the dredges have piled spoil on banks to the point where the once vital sheet flow from spring floods cannot spread across and throughout backwater areas.
This sheet flow was, and still is, vital to the continued health of this swamp, and the increased channelization of spring floods inside the basin has left backwater areas devoid of dissolved oxygen — therefore nothing to provide a habitat for fish, reptiles and birds.
Even worse, these “dead” areas appear to be increasing annually.
What’s left in the wake of this continued flood control/navigation mantra are recreational fishermen wondering what’s happened to the bass and the other species they have spent hours upon hours, days upon days and years upon years pursuing.
What’s more, the folks who provide goods and services to these tens of thousands of anglers are wondering how long they have before their ability to earn a living for their families is as dead as those backwater areas.
In response to a plea from recreational anglers, new Louisiana Department of Wildlife and Fisheries (LDWF) secretary Madison Sheahan called for a public meeting about the basin’s problems.
The Baton Rouge gathering produced the main problem — bad water. No great surprise there, and the LDWF folks told of a sit-down with the Corps of Engineers and Coastal Protection and Restoration staff to solve this predicament. Problem is — and as we know only too well during the last 50 years — these federal planners move at what can only be called “a snail’s pace.”
Bass stocking
Another, and even more revealing piece, is LDWF’s Inland Fisheries staff hasn’t stocked a bass in the basin in years. None of the 4.2 million bass fingerlings produced in the latest effort, mostly from the Booker Fowler Fish Hatchery, were put in Atchafalaya waters. Nor were any placed in the nearby Verret Basin.
This is where a reminder is needed: the Booker Fowler Hatchery was funded in the wake of Hurricane Andrew’s devastation of both the Atchafalaya and Verret basins. Recalling those days in 1992, LDWF’s estimate was 175 million total fish — including 5 million bass — were killed in Andrew’s sweep across the Atchafalaya, and a few million more in the Verret Basin.
And, today, because state Inland Fisheries staff deems these areas incapable of producing “trophy bass,” the annual stocking of Florida-strain bass fingerlings goes elsewhere.
This happens all the while knowing most of the fingerlings go to northern Louisiana waters when most of the state’s fishing population lives in south Louisiana, and most of those folks live within a two-hour drive to both basins.
What’s more, comments center on there not being enough money in the budget to raise native largemouth bass to sufficient size to restock both basins.
Well, it’s like this: LDWF mostly survives on license fees and funds from federal disbursements divided among the states from the number of fishing and hunting licenses sold annually. Yes, there are other funding sources, but none of the agency’s funding comes from Louisiana’s General Fund.
Maybe it’s time to rethink that plan. Maybe from the more than $500 million in state taxes provided to Louisiana from programs under LDWF’s purview should go back to the agency to provide something like a hatchery which could provide more fish to the fishermen.
Maybe that could happen. Maybe.
