ANNUAL MIGRATION OF THE EELS

Dominion, Volume 32, Issue 143, 13 March 1939, Page 8

ANNUAL MIGRATION OF THE EELS

A Weird Phenomenon

SWIMMING IN COUNTLESS NUMBERS TO THE SEA

One of New Zealand's weirdest anil least-known spectacles, yet one to be seen every autumn within a few miles of Wellington, is the annual migration of the eels. On their way to the deep sea caverns where they breed, they descend the rivers and streams in thousands, and in places where they congregate near the river-mouths present th? extraordinary sight of almost solid squirming masses. The migration takes place between March and May, usually in a series of •Tun*.” These occur mostly on warm, line nights, preferably at the dark of the moon, and when there is a slight fresh in the streams. On such nights, fishermen taking advantage of the evening rise of trout to feed on aquatic insects, are often surprised by the apperance of shoals of eels, all swimming steadily in the same direction. The eels go down to the sea to breed. In spring the little elvers migrate back to the fresh water, in numbers just as great but in bulk less noticeable than the downstream migration in autumn. It is one of the. mysteries of the eel that the big eels are never seen making upstream in their thousands. Perhaps thev slink back one by one; perhaps they never come buck, but are replaced bv a new generation. At any rate, during the winter few eels are to be caught inland. Onlj - the huge eels, which, either from age or laziness, have lost the urge to wander, remain iu the streams. These are the giants which grow up to five or six feet in length, are thicker than a mans thigh, and weigh anything up to 401 b. 'or more. Almost Fabulous Eels. There are indeed records of eels up to astonishing sizes. The lute Mr. Elsdou Best states tliat a 701 b. eel was caught in Lake Wakatipu and quotes other authorities as having mentioned the taking of SOlb., 941 b. and 961 b. eels iu the South Island, and even oue of 1301 b. in Lake Wakatipu. While such eels tax the credulity of others than anglers, specimens of up to 401 b. ore well authenticated.

When the eels moved seaward, the Maori of the past was wont to catch them in enormous numbers. Even today in certain parts of the North Island tremendous catches are sometimes made. The old-style method was to build a weir, or brush fence, out into the stream, so as to block the progress of the army of eels. A gap was purposely left and below this a trap was set, into which the eels were swept by the current, and from which there was no escape.

Similar traps were used in conjunction with bait at other times of the year. The design met the approval of European fishermen, and only recently the Wellington Acclimatization Society made inquiries concerning eeltraps of this pattern to reduce the numbers of eels in Wellington trout streams. Another way the Maoris had ot trapping tire migrant eels was to dig a shallow ditch in the shingle bars near the river mouths. The current would flow into these ditches, and would eventually be lost in the shingle. The eels would swim into the ditches, seeking a short cut to the sea, and would be speared by the waiting Maoris. They caught them, too, iu less wholesale fashion, by "bobbing,” as children do, with a fourfoot stick, a hank of twine, and a worm. They caught them with nets and set-lines, spears and "jags.” But the best ways of catching them were when they were migrating, and could be taken a thousand at a time, dried in the sun, or over a smoky fire, or skinned by peeling the hide off like a glove and then fried in their own fat. They were a Maori delicacy. A Sinister Fish.

To the European the eel is a slightly sinister fish, on account of its snakelike movement and appearance, and its slimy skin. Even the Maori, to whom the eel was a familiar creature, was sensible to its repulsive appearance. He conjured up, among the other mythical beings with which he peopled forest and river, the gigantic image of a monster eel, called Tuna Tuoro, which dwelt in underground caverns and deep pools and emeiged onlv at night for the purpose of hunting' man. Sometimes lonely fishermen heard it barking, on windy nights when tlie rivers were rising. AVheii pursued, the only ■ escape was to set fire to the scrub. Tuna Tuoro coulduot cross hot ashes. But, apart from Maori legend, the cel is not a very formidable creature. Its teeth are minute. It seldom bites, even when trodden upon or grasped. When it does, however, its bite is the tenacious bite of the bulldog. It does not let go. Its scores of tiny needlelike teeth hold firmly rather than tightly, and it pulls backward with a violence calculated to tear flesh from bone.

Instances are recorded of men bein;; drowned in New Zealand rivers at the time of tlie migration of the eels. Their bodies were seldom recovered. Skeletons do not float. Though instances of eels attacking living men are few, they are known to be eaters of carrion, and when they are present in hundreds, it is only a matter of minutes to demolish a mail.