As the sun comes up over the Restigouche River on a Wednesday morning, fishing boats leave the wharf at Listuguj First Nation one by one into the rough water.
Deven Condo-Mitchell gets his walkie-talkie, puts on a life jacket, and gets on a patrol boat. He is part of a team of rangers who make sure the fishing law and conservation plan of the Mi’kmaw community are followed.
“I love to work outdoors, I love the water, and I love the mountains,” he said. “We are people of the land. We live off the water and the land. We hunt and fish, and have done so for hundreds of years.”
The Listuguj Rangers drive quickly across the river that separates Quebec and New Brunswick. They watch as fishermen try to get their traps out of the water before 8 a.m. There are a lot of big salmon caught in the nets today, so the catch is better than usual.
Condo-Mitchell said that there are signs that a day will be good for fishing that have been passed down from generation to generation.
“It’s almost like you can smell the fish in the water. “When you see birds flying over the water, you know there are fish nearby,” he said.
WATCH | On the Restigouche River, Mi’kmaq fisherman catch salmon:
“Here, salmon is a way of life. It’s what we eat, and people need it to feed their families.”
Long fight to protect fisher
The Listuguj Rangers were formed after the community fought for a long time to protect its right to fish in the way it did in the past. The program is now growing, and it is being used as an example of how Indigenous people can manage fisheries.
Their start is tied to a violent conflict that many people in the area still remember.
On June 11, 1981, 500 police officers from the province of Quebec came to Listuguj to try to stop the salmon fishing. Fishermen were arrested and hurt, and their gear was destroyed. Nine days later, police officers came back, but this time they couldn’t get into the neighborhood, so they left.
At the beginning of the 1990s, Listuguj made its own fishing law and plan for how to run fishing. The Law on Fisheries and Fishing of the Listuguj Mi’gmaq First Nation also established the Listuguj Rangers.
Don Leo Arsenault, the program’s chief ranger, said the impact of the salmon raids continues to be felt by fishermen.
“The stigma will never leave,” he said.
‘Model’ for conservatio
In 2021, 40 years after the raids, the Department of Fisheries and Oceans reached an agreement with Listuguj officially recognizing the role of the rangers and upholding the treaty right for moderate livelihood fisheries.
Arsenault, who joined the rangers in 1998, said the agreement is a big step.
“For the fishermen from the reserve that are out there, they know that they’re going to be treated fairly and equally and with respect. Even to this day, from back in 1981 with the raids, people feel when they go and fish, they’re going to be given a bad hand,” he said.
From June through October, about 28 Rangers head out on boats, trucks and a canoe to patrol the area. The program recently expanded to include hunting conservation in the woods and members are now going through coursework to become fully qualified conservation officers.
Last fall, the rangers also played a new role — overseeing a moderate-livelihood lobster fishery. At the wharf in Carleton-sur-Mer on Quebec’s south shore, they counted and tracked lobsters, traps and boats.
Arsenault said the rangers prioritize safety and conservation in their work, trying to build a good rapport with the fishermen. When someone is found in violation of the rules, their net is seized but they can return to collect it at a later date.
Salmon fishermen are limited to casting their nets five nights a week, from June to late July. Certain parts of the river are off-limits and considered special protection zones.
The first catch of the season is given to elders.
Looking out at the river, Condo-Mitchell said Listuguj’s conservation measures are working.
“As First Nations people we don’t take in an abundance, we don’t take more than we need. Just to feed the people. So a lot of the fishermen out here today, they fish for people that can’t fish,” he said.
Condo-Mitchell said now that the rangers are going through formal training courses, other First Nations will have a model to turn to.
“As soon as we have the blueprint, we can outsource and give that plan to other communities so they can start to develop their own fisheries and look after their own land.”
