27/04/2022
As part of the River Reflections project I have written a short story for children to raise awareness of the plight of the Atlantic Salmon and its hopeful return to Gargrave Pick up your free copy from Gargrave Library.
Sylvester’s Dream
By Alex Blakey
Sylvester began his life in a small dark place hidden below the pebbles in the River Aire, a place he would forever call home. Here was a place full of life, a home surrounded by grayling, minnows and eels. Sylvester remembered his great journey to the ocean, from hatching into an alvin to growing into a fry and then a parr. He remembered Gargrave. He remembered the stepping stones, the sounds of children playing; he remembered hiding in the rocks from the heron and the kingfisher catching insects for tea.
As Sylvester grew bigger and stronger gradually into a smolt, he remembered the scent of the river, a place to which he would someday return. As he made his way to sea, Sylvester battled through the night, avoiding many predators along the way. Once he reached the ocean Sylvester made the greatest journey yet, fighting his way through the ocean to find food far away in Greenland.
Now Sylvester was a big fish; he was a salmon. Sylvester loved the ocean. He enjoyed delicious meals of sprat, capelin and krill and for four whole years he grew and grew as happy as a salmon could be until one day, something was calling to him. That something was home. It was time for Sylvester to make the great journey back to Gargrave. It was time to fulfil his dream.
Sylvester battled the currents, dodging prey all the time, following his nose as he headed for home. He battled past a pod of dolphins and fought his way around huge mixed fishing nets, until finally he reached the river estuary. He could see seals lining the shore waiting for his return. He waited some more. As the tide rose high, he sped as fast as he could though the estuary and into the river. He reached a fork in the river; which way to go? He followed the scent, taking him up the river towards Leeds. As the Autumn leaves change so did he, his scales turning from silver to a beautiful pinky red. He was getting closer.
Something had changed. ‘This wasn’t here before’ thought Sylvester. In front of him stood a huge weir. Sylvester was determined, he leapt and he leapt but the water wasn’t deep enough and he just couldn’t make it. Many of the other fish were turning around, off to find new breeding grounds but Sylvester was determined. He had to make it home. As the rain kept falling the water level rose and for just a few hours it was deep enough for him to gather speed. Sylvester leapt and leapt until finally he made it over the weir. As he swam along he noticed something was wrong. The water was getting cloudy and there was an awful smell all around. Factories at the river’s edge belched smoke into the air and foul substances poured from their pipes and into the river. Sylvester noticed there were no longer lots of other fish in the river. Sylvester was alone. He had to turn back.
As Sylvester headed back towards the ocean he went in search of other salmon. Further downstream he found them and fertilised the eggs, producing a new generation of Atlantic salmon. Sylvester was tired. He had travelled such a long way. He only hoped that someday in the future his great, great grandchildren would finally make it home to where his story began. Over the next hundred years the river grew dirtier; invasive plants took over and more weirs were built. The Aire was unrecognisable. Less and less salmon returned, but somewhere deep inside, the dream of return lingered on until one year things began to change.
As mills shut down and the sewers were cleaned the water began to clear. A lone fish called Samuel made his way once more along the river. Sylvester’s dream had come true. As the fish swam and swam it came upon a weir, but this time something was different. The weir was surrounded by scaffolding and noises louder than anything Samuel had ever heard. In the pool below the weir the determined fish waited, until finally the noises died down and all became still once more. As he nervously approached the weir, he saw something not there before, a passage way made just for him. He swam and leapt and swam and leapt, taking a break half way in the specially built resting pool. He was through. He had made it.
Along the river he swam, past Bradford and Saltaire. He swam through fish passes, through deep pools and shallow waters until finally he reached somewhere once forgotten; now found. He was home. He was back in Gargrave. Once again, the waters were filled with fish of all shapes and sizes. He saw tiny crayfish and huge brown trout. Finally, Samuel found what he was looking for, a beautiful shimmering lady salmon. She was digging reds in the gravel. As Samuel drew close the two fish danced with joy and a new generation of Salmon found their home. Long after Samuel returned to the ocean, the eggs lay still, ready to hatch in a dark place bellow the pebbles in the River Aire, a place they too, would forever call home.
