Maine NFC Posts First Tribe-Specific State Heritage Fish Signs on Tribal Land
NFC National Vice Chair and Maine Board member Bob Mallard along with volunteer Jeff Moore made a trip to the northern end of Franklin County in Maine to post the first tribe-specific State Heritage Fish signs on tribal-owned land. To say the trip was an enjoyable and memorable one would be an understatement.
The Backstory…
Jeff Moore, a friend from elementary school, was taken into one of the ponds on Penobscot Nation land by his father roughly 50 years ago. He hadn’t been back since. When he heard NFC had permission to post signs on Penobscot land, he adopted the pond, paid for the signs, and volunteered to post them.
The Day’s Events…
Pond #1
After a two-hour drive, the last 15 or so minutes of which was on an unmarked dirt road, we found ourselves blocked from the first pond by a locked gate. Determined to get the job done we climbed over the gate and hiked up a long hill to see if we could get to the water.
Unable to find anyone home at the three camps we encountered, we decided to post the sign on a post just outside a second gate that led to a member-only sporting camp. Unfortunately, I stripped the top screw and was unable to get it out or in. We secured the bottom screw and moved on.
When we got back to the truck we drove further west and found a second gate on a road that appeared to go into the opposite end of the pond. After passing a private camp we came to a small trail that led to the water where several boats were chained to trees. We posted another sign here.
Having determined that the second pond would require a long hike that we were not prepared to make, we headed back to the first gate to pick up the second truck. As we arrived at the gate, a truck was coming out. We stopped and introduced ourselves to its occupant.
The gentleman, a member of the Penobscot Nation, told us his Anglo name was Jerry Mason, and his Penobscot name, Lobster Daylight. According to our new friend he had trapped lobsters on an island off the Maine coast as a young man.
In Jerry’s truck was a rifle, traditional birch bark moose call, a coyote pelt fashioned to serve as a hat and cape, and a bunch of other personal belongings. Around his neck hung a large clam shell on a leather cord. His face had smudges of black paint below each eye.
Jerry asked us where we were from and why we were there. When we told him he seemed genuinely interested in what we were doing. He offered to fix the screw I stripped, I gave him the hardware, as well as see if he could get someone to post the sign on the second pond for us.
We talked sports and history, mostly Penobscot and Native American in general - a subject of personal interest to me. We talked about Old John Neptune, Thoreau’s native Penobscot guide Polis, and Orono whose namesake town is home to the University of Maine. We talked about Skowhegan, my home town, and the last town in Maine to let go of its “Indian” mascot and so-named sports team.
It was quite interesting and enjoyable to talk to a tribal member while posting signs on tribal land. He was a wealth of local knowledge and history, fun to talk to, and a pleasure to be with. Both Jeff and I were glad we got to meet Mr. Mason as it made the whole thing that much more meaningful.
Pond #3
After leaving Jerry we headed out of the woods and drove roughly 25 miles south. Having drizzled most of the day, the rain was now coming down pretty hard and the temperature was dropping. We also had more daylight behind us than in front of us.
Having very little information to work with, and unable to find the pond on the map, I called Maine NFC Chair Emily Bastian for some directions, mileage, and landmarks. While she was able to pull coordinates off our project tracking database, they were of no use to us as we had no GPS with us.
We soon ascertained that the pond in question was the one I thought it was, a small unnamed water west of the main road and roughly two miles into the woods. Unable to find the road, we passed it 3 or 4 times, shortening the distance each time and narrowing down the options.
Having finally figured out what road it was likely to be, we pulled off the pavement, Jeff climbed into my truck, and we started to push up the narrow alder-choked road, or more appropriately, ATV trail, unsure if we were heading in the right direction.
We soon met up with a couple in a UTV coming out. We asked them if there was a pond off the road and if so, what the name was. They said yes, but it was not the name I gave them. I then pulled out the map, pointed to where I thought we were and asked them, both locals, if we were where we thought we were.
We were where we thought, the pond was where it should be, but the name was not what we were looking for. But based on my discussion with Emily, I was sure we were at the right place and the issue was one of local naming only, not at all uncommon in regard to small ponds in Maine.
After asking for directions, mileage, and landmarks, the couple, Terri Trask and Ian Bexon, offered to escort us in. Two miles later after banging over large rocks, spinning on loose stones, and climbing a steep hill in four-wheel drive, they waved at us to pull over.
As we got out of our vehicle, our new friends pointed to a trail which would be easy to miss if you did not know where you were going. We asked if they wanted to walk in and post the sign with us, and even though Terri walked with a cane, they said they did.
We soon found ourselves on the shore of a beautiful remote undeveloped tiny tree-lined pond with a beaver house, old campfire ring, and caved in log bridge over the outlet. It was a peaceful place and somewhere I will come back to when I have time to fish.
Just 3 acres, per Maine Department of Inland Fisheries and Wildlife this never-stocked pond is only 8 feet deep with an average depth of only 3 feet. Our friends said it was deeper in one spot. It also has an FFO restriction and relatively strict bag and length limit.
A pond-side evergreen, unmissable from the trail, looked like the perfect place for a sign telling the masses they were at a special place, asking that they help protect it and the fish that live there, and honoring its tribal ownership.
I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride in posting the sign, more rewarding than had I just stopped to fish it. The pond is the epitome of the all-to-rare small remote wild native trout pond, and one with formal legal designation and protections, as well as regulatory protections.
Conclusion…
As I stated up front, to say the trip was an enjoyable and memorable one would be an understatement, and very much so. Not only was it quite rewarding to post our first tribe-specific State Heritage Fish signs, it was humbling to see the interest in what we were doing by locals and a tribal member.
People really care about Maine’s wild native brook trout lakes and ponds, people from all walks of life. They are a sense of pride for Mainers and something that is uniquely, and nearly solely, Maine. The State Heritage Fish sign project has brought people together like no other project I have been part of it.