About two weeks ago it was raining hard. We had about 60 ml in a week. The inlet swelled with river-brown water from the massive system fed by three rivers. I was running out of firewood. This time of year always presents me with a sense of lack: crouching over a fire that will not thrive, like an animal trying to stay warm. Not enough sun to power the internet and my single lamp for more than an hour per day. As a casual worker, I'm out of a job for most of June and July, so when the income runs out, gas bottle runs out, my gas fridge stops and so does the hot water.
It sounds grim but it's a reality of living off grid in a remote location. 'I should organise myself for this time of year,' I think every year. This year I lined up a few writing jobs which are tiding me over for the moment. Anyway, with the fresh water pouring into the inlet over the last few weeks, regular visitors have noticed an anomaly.
The sudden influx created a mass fish kill event. At least I'm better off than your average herring. Brownie and Co were filletting mullet on an ironing board down on the beach. They'd set nets the previous night and not caught a single herring. 'They're all dead,' Brownie said, pointing to the dead fish lining the beach.
I walked along the beach for a few hundred metres and found 30 or 40 more dead herring. Shit. Later, other boaters told me there were dead fish on every beach on the inlet, stinking up the reed beds and the sandbars. I could only find herring on the beach, large, almost bull herring.
So I reported the fish kill to the authorities and warned Brownie to put his nets away. For the next 24 hours I stressed about Fisheries coming out to inspect our nets and hanging about the place. The main thing was that I thought it needed to be flagged. Water authorities got back to me to say it was a fresh water deoxygenation event.
So my issue now is my dog.
On the first day, I washed her in warm soapy water after she'd rolled in rotting fish, rubbed her dry with an old towel. She immediately went down to the beach and had another roll. I washed her with warm soapy water again.
Next time, she's getting the hose.
After the hose, threaten the power-washer. We have had many fish die this year in de-oxygenated waters. With us, it's the problem of the dumping of raw sewage in rivers and the sea by criminal water companies.
ReplyDeleteYes I'm done with benign warm soapy water.
DeleteThat's shocking re water pollution Tom. This inlet is reputed to be the cleanest in the southern hemisphere, thanks to all of its catchment being national parks, so even though the event was quite alarming, I was pretty sure it wasn't some kind of spill.
Neat way of saying the human race fizzled out, it was deoxygenised.
ReplyDeleteA good metaphor yes
DeleteThere is nothing worse than the smell of dead fish. In Maine, USA at the New Meadows Inn, I arrived for a meal at the restaurant to find dead fish lining the New Meadows river. I had never seen or heard of a fish die off until this experience. I wonder if this is becoming a more common event. I was told when the water rises the dead fish would wash away. I hope the same is true for you.
ReplyDeleteHi Susan, those poor restaurant owners! Not a great way to sell food.
DeleteAn old timer told me this has happened here before, due to a sudden influx of fresh water.
Fishy stink is one thing but something quite unpleasant is dealing with the human turds the dog has rubbed her neck (and collar) into because we have allowed her to stray too far out of the bush and close to the lay-by where some enterprising motorists unload their burdens, rather than driving another eight hundred metres to the public facility. Really, really revolting, The dog of course, has a very smug, power grin to show the world.
ReplyDeleteJust remembered that dead rabbit carcasses could be up there as well.
ReplyDeleteYes, the pup Digger rolled in fresh human poo when we were on our way to Margaret River - at that lay by near Pardelup. Thankfully we had a ute, not a sedan!
ReplyDelete