I knew something had changed when I wasn’t receiving my customary weekly US Fish and Wildlife Service anadromous fish-migration tallies from the Connecticut River Fish and Wildlife Conservation office at the Conte Lab in Montague City.

For nearly 50 years, these weekly reports have arrived like clockwork in my inbox from beginning to end of the annual spring spawning migrations of American shad, Atlantic salmon, alewife, blueback herring, lamprey eels, shortnose sturgeon, and in later years striped bass.

This year started as usual. On May 1, I received a press release announcing that the runs were underway. I didn’t ponder the unfamiliar name attached to the release, that of one “Corey Eddy, PhD, Fish Biologist/Field Dive Officer” from the Conte Lab.

Hmmmm? I was used to receiving these reports from Ken Sprankle, who I knew as the Connecticut River Coordinator, a lofty title that appears to have gone the way of the Wells Fargo Stage. Though I paused at the appearance of a new name, I didn’t pay much attention to it, assuming Sprankle was out of town or on vacation. I later discovered that he has retired.

So, there’s a new sheriff in town.

Maybe it was reported in the local newspaper. Maybe not. I wouldn’t know. Newspapers are no longer part of my daily routine, haven’t been for many years, despite being a 40-year newsroom veteran.

My first report from Mr. Eddy showed numbers from Day 1, April 30, at Holyoke’s Barrett Fish Lift and three largely insignificant fish passageways on dams in the State of Connecticut. That inaugural report also informed recipients that he would be out of the office “Wednesday, May 6th through Friday, May 16th, so regrettably there will be no weekly report until early in the week of May 18th.”

What that meant, in simple English, was that the reports would be unavailable to devoted anglers during the height of the shad run, when the riverbank is annually clogged with sportfishermen and women at the Holyoke Tailrace and other easily accessible migration channels along the river, such as Montague City’s Rock Dam. Oh well, looks like this season the fellas were on their own, forced to rely on word of mouth or trips to the river for news.

What they would have discovered was good news – that of a bountiful shad run that by now may have topped 500,000 through Holyoke, translating into better-than-usual Powertown fishing season compared to recent years.

The second report to reach me came indirectly, curiously enough, through my wife’s Gmail account, and not as promised, “early in the week of May 18^th, either. Dated June 5, it showed that a whopping seasonal total of 448,327 shad had passed Holyoke through the previous day.

Strapped in a regional drought with water temperatures ranging between the mid- and upper 60s Fahrenheit at the time, the run was obviously winding down. Shad stop running upstream and start establishing their spawning lairs once river temperatures level off between 65 and 70 degrees.

So, it’s probably a long shot that we’ll reach the half-million mark for the first time since 2017, when the total through Holyoke was 527,249. The only other figure over 400,000 since then was 437,553 in 2024, in keeping with but still a bit less than this year’s total.

The record also showed that 18,423 shad had passed Turners Falls through June 4, and 17,343 of them had made their way upriver of the dam in Vernon, Vermont.

Oh yeah, and how about this one? Through June 4, three lonely Atlantic salmon had passed Holyoke. They may be swimming today in a gravel-bedded tributary near you, such as the Deerfield or Green rivers, considering that none seemed to have passed Turners Falls.

Of course, we’re relying on old news. Perhaps a final report will arrive soon after the counting stations shut down. I won’t hold my breath. Sooner or later, it’ll arrive.

In passing, I wish all the best to my old friend Ken Sprankle. Hope he experiences the same retirement bliss I savor more with each passing day.