University Daily Kansan
Thursday, September 20, 1979
5
LEAVENWORTH-A vell of fot hanges
the early morning rays from the sun begin
to lighten the sky as a green 18-foot fishing
boat舷 in the swiftly moving currents of
the ocean.
As he does every day, Bernard Haddock will spend his morning on the river, checking the 25 meters he has placed along a 15-mile stretch of river bank.
"Yeah, we catch about everything sitting in the river," Haddock says. "Drum, carp, paddlefish, and sturgeon."
Lester, a friend of Hadock's who comes along to help him out, gives the starter on the motor a short, swift jerk and an abrupt roar breaks the stillness of the morning air.
Haddock positions himself at the front of the boat, like a proud captain on an old ship. He looks out not over the sea, but over a wide, brown river.
His gaze sweeps over the river, taking it in from Kansas to Missouri.
"The Missouri is just like the Kaw or Arkansas rivers," he says, beginning to smile, "except it's just about 50 times deeper."
Haddock says he's the only fisherman on the river now. In past years about 35 other fishermen worked the river.
"I ran them all off," he laughs. "Just one now—me."
Fishing is a hobby, Haddock says, but he also operates a salvage business.
"I might work 18 hours each day for two weeks," he said. "Then I paddle for the next two."
Several minutes after leaving the launching point, the fishing boat reaches the water. The net-foot net boats submerged in the muddy waters allow seven oak hoops in descending sizes, making a funnel-like form. A rope attaches the tow for a four-foot stake hammered into the water.
In the back of the net is a chunk of yellow bait, his special mixture, Haddock says with a wink.
The mixture ferments for a couple of days and produces an odor strong enough to attract the fish. Haddock saws.
Haddock plants the nets in different places every so often because, he says, fish change their swimming trails periodically.
The bait is made up of cotton seed cake, kernel corn, mule-horse feed and molasses to hold it all together.
Just how Haddock remembers where the nets are placed is something only he knows. He taps his forehead, winks and says, "Yeah, that's what a lot of people want to do. I too know the river, every creek, between attachment and Kansas City."
After inspecting the first few nets, Haddock has come up with what he considers a poor catch—about five carp, son and drum to name but two, all averaging about eight to nine pounds.
Haddock also has thrown several smaller fish back into the river.
"Don't believe in wasting anything," he says. "Like when I go hunting, I don't shoot what I won't eat.
"The fish are getting scarcer and scarer," he says, shaking his head. That may account for why there are so few fishermen on the river.
"I remember when the first barge was coming up the river," he says. "It'd leave a trail of blood behind, there were so many fish."
Haddock says that when he started fishing, about 35 years ago, he had only four nets and caught five times the amount of fish.
"I had to run the nets twice a day."
The low level of the river this summer has made fishing more difficult than in past years. And because the river runs faster, fish can be seen the river can see the fish, Haddock says.
As a result, many of the nets have been coming up empty.
"Straining water is what we're doing, just straining water," he say disgustedly. "Not catchen 'eighthough to grease a skillet."
When Haddock returns to shore, he puts catch in a cement water tank to keep it free from algae. After he buys a fish house down by the river. Before that, he operated out of the basement of his
"I have a person who comes down from Denver every year. And another person comes in from Chicago."
Haddock says he has about 2,000 customers from Lawrence, Kansas City, Toecka and many cities in Missouri.
This summer, he says, he hasn't been selling much because he did not catch enough fish.
But whether the fishing is good or bad, Haddock figures he'll be out on the river until he's 50, which means that for about 50 years he will probably sun up before the sun checks to his nuts.
"Yeah, I'm pretty tough," he says
As the boat makes its way back to the boat ramp, Haddock points out three cranes flying overhead.
"Now there's fishermen."
Bernard Haddock pulls a catfish from one of his 25 nets that are anchored along the Missouri River near Leavenworth.
At 6:30 in the morning, the river is a quiet and lonely place to be. As the boat cuts through the fog to inspect the nets upstream, a man uses the empty bridge to cross the river.
'I know the river,every nook and bend in this river between Atchison and Kansas City.'
For 35 years Haddock has been pulling nets and the fish in them out of the Missouri River. The cool mist of the early morning keeps the fish alive until he can get them to the concrete holding tank in his market.
After two hours on the river catching fish, Haddock comes back to his market beside the river and puts the day's catch in the holding tanks to revive them. he thenipes the sleep from his eyes and begins his 'real job' as a salvage broker.
At the bottom of the boat lies part of the catch for the day. The fish can survive between one and two hours after they land.
Story by Ellen Iwarmoto Photos by Jeff Harring