The Case of the Vanishing Alewife Run
Eat. Run. Spawn.
Sure as the dandelion, every spring the river herring return from the ocean to the freshwater streams to spawn. In these regions, river herring are life for both humans and animals alike. Whether used to fertilize crops, bait fish traps, or eaten smoked or salted, on historical Cape Cod river herring were a source of food, and in turn money. While their economic importance has wained, it has been replaced with a growing appreciation of their ecological importance.
River herring are made up two closely related species of migratory fish - blueback herring and the more common alewife. Both species spend their lives in the open ocean consumed with two tasks - the first to eat and grow, and the second to keep from being eaten. And there’s a whole host of animals up the food chain that would love to eat the nutritious river herring including birds, mammals and other fish. The annual arrival of the Osprey and the Striped Bass to the Cape Cod coast are closely tied to the appearance of the river herring.
Come late winter and early spring, mature adults heed their calling and head to the estuaries and bays along the New England coast. Between the months of March and June, they will run by the thousands up their natal streams. There they will spawn a new generation of herring that will repeat the cycle. And so it goes, year after year, so long as there is free passage to their spawning grounds. Unlike the Blueback Herring which can spawn in the faster water of the rivers, Alewife need freshwater ponds. Without pond access, alewife can’t spawn and the run will perish.
In the shadow of ghosts
In the woods behind the house there is an old Alewife run. The waters of the very upper reaches of the Childs River no longer flow, and the Alewife don’t run. Today, this section of the river is little more than a dry ditch snaking through a cathedral-like white pine forest, though it once supported an active Alewife fishery that harvested upwards of 150 barrels of fish per year. While not a large run by any means, a run is a run. The Alewife run gradually succumbed to industry - first mill works and later cranberry harvesting.
A dry channel is all that remains of the upper Childs River. This section of the Childs River was artificially constructed in the 1800s to connect the upper river to John’s Pond, a half mile to the north.
John’s Pond, a 300-plus acre pond in Mashpee, once flowed due south through the wooded Childs River valley before emptying into Waquoit Bay in Falmouth. In the early 19th century, a woolen mill was built where present day Carriage Shop Road crosses Childs River. A small impoundment was constructed to power the mill. Through the years the mill site would house blacksmiths, wood framers, and wheelwrights (maker of wooden wheels and carriages).
In 1866 the Waquoit River Herring Company was formed to harvest the Alewife that swam up the Childs River to spawning grounds in John’s Pond. On the southeast side of the mill pond dam, the company constructed a fishway to allow passage around the dam. The company still operated the fish ladder as late as 1919, but by 1920 the river valley had given way to the cranberry industry:
“The stream, 3 to 4 miles long, is now used to flood cranberry bogs, and is obstructed by a number of dams. The outlet of John’s Pond is a boarded passageway controlled by flashboards. Below the pond the stream is little more than an artificial ditch lined with cranberry bogs. At the head of the Gona cranberry bog is an impassable fishway. Below this point there are nine cranberry bogs, and eight embankments, all but one of which are equipped with wooden flumes. A second fishway is situated at the last cranberry bog. Near Waquoit Village is the fish house and a third fishway. The alewife fishery in Childs River was started as a private enterprise by the Waquoit Herring River Company, and reached the maximum production of 180 barrels in 1872. The average catch is from 80 to 100 barrels. A larger fishery could have been maintained if it had not been for the cranberry bogs. Its future depends upon the maintenance of a suitable passage by the owners of the bogs from the salt water to John’s Pond.”
Historical map (1893) showing the Childs River system running from John’s Pond to Waquoit Bay (north is to the right).
While the mill pond and cranberry industry certainly played large roles in the demise of the Childs River Alewife run, an equally important factor was the diversion of the outflow of John’s Pond into the neighboring Quashnet River. The natural headwaters of the Quashnet actually lie in a swamp about an eighth of a mile east of John’s Pond, but in the late 19th century, a ditch was dug from the swamp to the pond to provide more water for the downstream cranberry bogs.
It’s not known exactly when Alewives first began to run the Quashnet, though it’s likely that the run was populated by the offspring of parents that had originally entered John’s Pond through the Childs River. The diversion of the pond’s outflow to the Quashnet reduced the Childs River—first to a stream, then a trickle, and eventually, nothing at all. And without access to a pond, there are no Childs River Alewives. The Quashnet stole the run.
The current start of the Quashnet River at the dam outlet of John’s Pond in Mashpee.
But Alewife runs can return. Across New England, river passage is being restored through the removal of dams and culverts, and by improving degraded river channels. Thanks to these efforts, river herring—both Bluebacks and Alewives—are finding their way back to native watersheds.
Still, restoring a run to the Childs River is complicated. For one, the river wasn’t a natural herring run to begin with. Like many places on Cape Cod, John’s Pond was artificially connected to the Childs River in the mid-1800s by a manmade ditch, specifically to develop a herring fishery. In truth, the Childs River’s headwaters lie about half a mile south of the pond, fed by natural springs.
The current headwaters of the Childs River - a small spring-fed pool about a half mile south of Johns Pond.
Re-establishing a run would require reconnecting John’s Pond to the Childs River, and that would almost certainly reduce flow to the Quashnet. That’s a problem. The Quashnet’s river herring run and sea-run Brook Trout fishery are thriving—and cherished. People expect them. They celebrate them. Whether the public would support bringing Alewives back to the Childs River at the possible expense of the Quashnet is an open question.
A reconnection with John’s Pond would also complicate the recently completed restoration project on the Upper Childs River. That effort, aimed at reviving native Brook Trout habitat, removed old cranberry bogs and the mill pond, and reestablished a more natural river channel. But it stopped short of reconnecting the river to John’s Pond.
A passive integrated transponder (PIT) array installed in the restored section of the lower Childs River to monitor Brook Trout populations.
Today, the Childs River is fed entirely by cold, clean groundwater—freshwater seeps trickling down from the leaf-littered slopes and bubbling up through the gravelly sediments of the riverbed. These spring-fed flows keep water temperatures cool, stable, and ideal for Brook Trout. Reintroducing the relatively warm surface water from John’s Pond would undo much of that progress. It would shift the thermal regime, and threaten the very habitat the restoration set out to protect.
There’s a certain poetry to a river herring run—both fleeting and enduring. The fish appear only for a few short weeks each spring, yet their return marks a rhythm older than any mill or bog, older than the roads or houses that now line the watershed. It’s a reminder that nature’s clock keeps ticking, even when we forget to wind it.
Here’s the thing about river herring: never count them out. They’re stubborn. Resilient. In rivers across Massachusetts and far beyond, they’re finding their way back—back to waters once dammed, drained, or dismissed. Their story isn’t over. And maybe, just maybe, neither is the story of the Childs River.
References
Belding, DL. 1920. A Report upon the Alewife Fisheries of Massachusetts. Department of Conservation, Division of Fisheries and Game.
https://apcc.org/wp-content/uploads/2022/08/Childs-River-Site-History.pdf
