Lögberg-Heimskringla - 03.06.1988, Qupperneq 4

4-LÖGBERG CENTENNIAL YEAR, FÖSTUDAGUR 3. JÚNÍ 1988
Editorial
During this past year, we the Ice-
landic community have ex-
perienced a change with the depar-
ture of Professor Haraldur Bessason
for Iceland. After more than three
decades, we have grown accus-
tomed to his presence and probably
unconciously looked upon him as a
part of our community, in a sort of
forever way. Now he is gone and
Dr.Kristin Wolf will arrive to take
up his duties on July 1.
Perhaps there was an unrealistic
hope that Haraldur's replacement
would be another Haraldur. This is
not the case, and it behooves us as
individuals to welcome Dr. Wolf
and give her all the support we can,
in her position as head of the
Department of Icelandic Language
and Literature. It is the success of
the department which is of primary
concern. The university in making
its selection undoubtedly had this as
a primary objective.
It is not really the perogative of a
lowly editor to suggest how the
university should set up its studies
but, as a longtime citizen of both the
Icelandic and broader Canadian
community certain aspects come to
mind. Those of us who are descend-
ed directly from parents born in Ice-
land and came here during the
emigration years, have a heritage
which reaches back into Iceland as
it was before the turn of the centu-
ry. The present younger generation
has a heritage which relates to the
Icelandic element which is born
here. Many have lost the Icelandic
language and are of a mixed
heritage. The interesting fact today
is, that our Icelandic organizations
are growing rapidly in numbers, in-
stead of fading away as so many of
us expected. One of the factors has
to be a pride in the Icelandic
heritage. The high regard in which
Icelanders have been held over the
years as Canadians is very signifi-
cant. The achievements of our peo-
ple has been outstanding. Wherever
one goes in the wider community of
this province the Icelandic in-
fluence is high in proportion to
numbers.
Looking back over the years, the
history of the Icelanders their
thoughts and achievements from
the early days are largely locked
into the Icelandic language. Their
early ethnic organizations, their
literary acumen at the time equalled
that of Iceland. The early academic
success of Icelandic students is note
worthy, and is no less today when
one looks around.
Perhaps the Western Icelandic
heritage and culture is a subject
matter, worthy of consideration as
a course of studies for present
generations interested in their Ice-
landic heritage.
Possibly the chair of Icelandic
could raise its sights towards a more
active role on the International lev-
el, when conferences occur, dealing
with the Nordic languages. Is their
room for a third element in addition
to the ancient and modem literature
of Iceland by introducing literary
achievements of the Western Ice-
landers and how it affected them as
a people, including Iceland?
Our heritage is very much alive
and the Department of Icelandic
Language and Literature is a pres-
tigeous part of our heritage and
worthy of our sincere support.
E.A.
Productive summer poaching sturgeon
It was early morning towards the
end of July. The sun was about to
come over the horizon in the east.
The sky was a clear blue and the stars
were no longer visible, as the rays of
the sun wiped out the darkness of the
previous night. It was time to stir and
break camp.
For nigh onto two months, Bill and
Chris had lived in the wilderness, in-
land on the banks of the Poplar River
which flowed westward into Lake
Winnipeg, the northern body of this
mighty inland freshwater lake. In the
distance they could hear the water as
it tumbled over the rocky boulder
strewn ledge forming a series of tum-
bling water cascades, generally
referred to as Sturgeon Falls. The
sound of a loon echoed across the
water, the screech of gulls came from
above, flitting about ever-hungry
ready to dive down and streak away
in the sky with any morsel of food
these two stalwart humans happened
to accidentally drop or leave unat-
tended. The bellow of a bull moose
could be heard faintly in the distance
interrupting the cheerful chirps of
small birds that made up the wild en-
vironment. These were the sounds
which make up the symphony of na-
ture, little changed over the centuries
of time. It had been their home for
almost two months, a fleeting mo-
ment in the timeless age of nature's
undisturbed balance, free from dis-
ruptions of modern man. Only the
odd Indian hunter had ever interrupt-
ed this remote area of nature's
wilderness as he travelled his trap
lines or in search of game, which
placed food on the table and allayed
the hunger pangs of a life wholly de-
pendent on nature's bounty. From
this peaceful remote spot in the vast
Canadian north, they were about to
leave and return to civilization in the
southern areas of farms, villages,
towns and cities. Nature had called
them into her bosom, but like birds
in a nest they had become restless
and looked forward to returning
home.
It had been a productive summer
poaching sturgeon in the swift rapids
below the falls. While their operation
was illegal, they enjoyed the excite-
ment of outwitting the law. It was a
challenge they felt comfortable with.
It was not as if they were committing
violence against fellow man, but
rather helping themselves to nature's
storehouse. They in their own mind
could not rationalize the dictates of
law which chose to protect sturgeon,
which they knew would die through
aging, and to them this was a waste
of a highly prized fish species. Any-
way these were man-made laws by
governments in Ottawa, and who
were they to decide what could be
done? They resented the enforce-
ment officers, better known as fish
inspectors paid a salary to perform a
cushy job for Ottawa. It was not pos-
sible for them to understand conser-
vation measures, when the river
teemed with sturgeon. They had long
dismissed any serious thoughts about
their actions, it was exciting and they
were not the direct cause of harm to
their fellow man.
In terms of time it was the mid-
twenties, some five years prior to the
handing over of natural resources to
the provinces. At that time fisheries
regulations, forest fire protection
along with other natural resources
were under the administration of the
federal government in Ottawa.
The only fear to Bill and Chris was
the government patrol vessel S.S.
Bradbury, a steel hull ship, shaped to
act as an icebreaker ready to assist
lake shipping enmeshed in ice form-
ing during fall freeze-up. Driven by
twin steam engines with coal fired
boilers, her black smoke could be
seen long before she appeared on the
horizon. It seemed to send a message:
Here we are, boys, hide your illegal
nets, take cover, we see only that
which is legal. Onboard the fish in-
spectors were invariably of Icelandic
descent, the captain and crew of In-
dian and Scotch ancestry, descen-
dants of the original Selkirk settlers.
Only the cook would be of English
stock, descended from Ontario pi-
oneers of the late 18th and early 19th
centuries.
It was time to strike camp and load
the large freighter canoe, driven by
an outboard motor with a speed
range of five to seven miles per hour.
Loading the tent, fishing gear, and
tools, such as an axe, shovel, and
hammer, etc., they pulled out of the
river. The tethered sturgeon
were tapped on the head. This
stunned them, and being unable to
breathe they gradually succumbed
through the lack of oxygen.
Last on board were the two small
black bear cubs, several weeks old,
about the size of a small dog. They
were cute, playful fellows, ready to
be rough if their ire was roused. The
partners had found them playing up
river. By offering them bits of fish,
they soon lost their fear, for as with
all wild animals, hunger was a cons-
tant companion. These little fellows
had been allayed by sustenance,
which outweighed their initial fear.
The pártners quickly tethered them
to the gunwales of the canoe and beat
a hasty retreat, before mother bear
came back from searching blueber-
ries in the precambrian hinterland.
Completing the loading of the ca-
noe, they headed downstream for the
river mouth. The sun had risen from
behind giving a feeling of warmth as
the morning progressed.
The summer had been a pleasant
diversion not too strenuous, a short
interlude in time with nature in the
Canadian wilderness. They felt they
had become part of it, almost as if
they had become nature's children.
Coming to the river mouth, they
had three concerns to contend with.
Care had to be taken not to flounder
on one of the hidden rocks of the
precambrian shield, which forms the
terrain of the éastern Lake Winnipeg
shoreline. Their second concern had
to be the black smoke of the S.S.
Bradbury, the only coal fired vessel
on the lake. All other steamboats
were fueled with cordwood. The
third and last concern were sudden
squalls. These could be dangerous
though shortlived. They could whip
up dangerous wave motion, and belt-
ing rain of cascade proportions. This
had to be the greatest concern.
Continued on Page 5
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