These grayling came from Bear Creek in 1890s. Bert Winnie, Traverse City.
The Michigan grayling were so plentiful 125 to 150 years ago that they were caught by the dozens to eat. Some timber companies of the 1880s fed these tasty game fish to the loggers who were cutting down trees nearby.
The fish with the overly large dorsal fin sustained the men who would ultimately destroy them. As large standing timber along streams were cut to allow more sunlight on the river surface, and the trees were rolled into the rivers to gouge out spawning gravel or clog it with sawdust, the beginning of the end was underway.
Over-fishing, timbering, warming of the stream water, and removal of spawning gravel made the inevitable demise of the Michigan grayling a certainty. Some Lower Peninsula streams held grayling until the early 1900s, and a few grayling were found in the Upper Peninsula, until the fish went extinct in the late 1930s.
Grayling were extinct in Michigan by the mid-1930s.
Waters such as the AuSable, AuGres, Black, Boardman, Boyne, Cheboygan, Hersey, Jordan, Manistee, Muskegon, Pine and Rifle rivers once held the majority of grayling in this state. Studying data from a book called Trout of Michigan, by Harold Hinsdill Smedley (books from me for $10 plus $3 postage <dave@daverichey.com>), and from a little monograph called The Grayling In Michigan by Charles W. and Edwin P. Creaser of Alma, it quickly becomes apparent that the Michigan grayling went extinct soon after logging ended.
The last holdout for the Michigan grayling was in Houghton County's Otter River where fair to good numbers of fish were still available in the early 1900s. Michigan tried to raise Otter River fish in downstate hatcheries, and many were planted (including some in the Cedar River near Gladwin) but all such plants soon died out.
Other planting efforts took place with the last major plantings of hatchery-reared fish from Alaska and Montana, were made in the 1980s. The fish were planted in the AuSable and Manistee rivers, and in a few small Upper Peninsula streams, and in a few select lakes in both peninsulas, but after three years they had vanished without a trace.
To the best of my knowledge, the Michigan grayling were gone again by the mid-1980s. The last recorded true Michigan grayling was caught in the Otter River in 1935, and the game fish was declared extinct soon after.
It’s doubtful that grayling could survive now in Michigan lakes and streams.
I've caught Arctic grayling in northern Saskatchewan, Canada's Northwest Territories, and in Alaska. I truly wanted to catch a Michigan grayling after the most recent plants 20-some years ago, but even though they had to be released alive if hooked, I didn't want to jeopardize the fish.
Apparently it wouldn't have made much difference because the fish soon disappeared. Grayling did live a bit longer in the cold inland lakes, but I suspect other game fish ate the small grayling for lunch.
The original grayling of this state averaged 8-11 inches with an occasional fish to 14 inches. By comparison, I landed a 4 1/2-pounder in Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories. It was mounted in all of its majestic colors, and some slob stole it from a display at the Outdoorama show at the State Fairgrounds in Detroit in the early 1980s.
The large sail-like dorsal fin allowed these fish to put up a good fight. It was like battling a big bluegill when the fish turns its side to the pull of the line. Grayling threw up that big dorsal fin, and the fight becane more difficult. They are wonderful to eat.
The two photos above are both old-timers taken when grayling still survived.
The b/w creel photo above was taken by a gentleman named Hanselman of Ann Arbor about 1886 and shows a nice catch of Michigan grayling from Bear Creek, a Manistee River tributary.
The other b/w photo is of the late Bert Winnie of Traverse City, and was taken about 1894, and may be one of the last photos that exist of a Boardman River grayling. The grayling is the second fish from Winnie's right hand. It has a big dorsal fin.
The grayling in this state are gone, and will probably never be seen in our waters again. However, the city of Grayling owes its name to this great game fish that, like the passenger pigeon, is now extirpated. And state residents are much poorer for that loss.
The Michigan grayling were so plentiful 125 to 150 years ago that they were caught by the dozens to eat. Some timber companies of the 1880s fed these tasty game fish to the loggers who were cutting down trees nearby.
The fish with the overly large dorsal fin sustained the men who would ultimately destroy them. As large standing timber along streams were cut to allow more sunlight on the river surface, and the trees were rolled into the rivers to gouge out spawning gravel or clog it with sawdust, the beginning of the end was underway.
Many factors conspired against Michigan grayling’s survival.
Over-fishing, timbering, warming of the stream water, and removal of spawning gravel made the inevitable demise of the Michigan grayling a certainty. Some Lower Peninsula streams held grayling until the early 1900s, and a few grayling were found in the Upper Peninsula, until the fish went extinct in the late 1930s.
Waters such as the AuSable, AuGres, Black, Boardman, Boyne, Cheboygan, Hersey, Jordan, Manistee, Muskegon, Pine and Rifle rivers once held the majority of grayling in this state. Studying data from a book called Trout of Michigan, by Harold Hinsdill Smedley (books from me for $10 plus $3 postage <dave@daverichey.com>), and from a little monograph called The Grayling In Michigan by Charles W. and Edwin P. Creaser of Alma, it quickly becomes apparent that the Michigan grayling went extinct soon after logging ended.
The last holdout for the Michigan grayling was in Houghton County's Otter River where fair to good numbers of fish were still available in the early 1900s. Michigan tried to raise Otter River fish in downstate hatcheries, and many were planted (including some in the Cedar River near Gladwin) but all such plants soon died out.
Other planting efforts took place with the last major plantings of hatchery-reared fish from Alaska and Montana, were made in the 1980s. The fish were planted in the AuSable and Manistee rivers, and in a few small Upper Peninsula streams, and in a few select lakes in both peninsulas, but after three years they had vanished without a trace.
To the best of my knowledge, the Michigan grayling were gone again by the mid-1980s. The last recorded true Michigan grayling was caught in the Otter River in 1935, and the game fish was declared extinct soon after.
I've caught Arctic grayling in northern Saskatchewan, Canada's Northwest Territories, and in Alaska. I truly wanted to catch a Michigan grayling after the most recent plants 20-some years ago, but even though they had to be released alive if hooked, I didn't want to jeopardize the fish.
Apparently it wouldn't have made much difference because the fish soon disappeared. Grayling did live a bit longer in the cold inland lakes, but I suspect other game fish ate the small grayling for lunch.
The original grayling of this state averaged 8-11 inches with an occasional fish to 14 inches. By comparison, I landed a 4 1/2-pounder in Great Bear Lake in the Northwest Territories. It was mounted in all of its majestic colors, and some slob stole it from a display at the Outdoorama show at the State Fairgrounds in Detroit in the early 1980s.
The large sail-like dorsal fin allowed these fish to put up a good fight. It was like battling a big bluegill when the fish turns its side to the pull of the line. Grayling threw up that big dorsal fin, and the fight becane more difficult. They are wonderful to eat.
A few details exist about the above photos.
The b/w creel photo was taken by a gentleman named Hanselman of Ann Arbor about 1886 and shows a nice catch of Michigan grayling from Bear Creek, a Manistee River tributary.
The other b/w photo is of the late Bert Winnie of Traverse City, and was taken about 1894, and may be one of the last photos taken of a Boardman River grayling. The grayling is the second fish from Winnie's right hand.
The grayling in this state are gone, and will probably never be seen in our waters again. However, the city of Grayling owes its name to this great game fish that, like the passenger pigeon, is now extirpated. And state residents are much poorer for that loss.
