On chilly spring nights along the Chippewa Flowage in northern Wisconsin, 15-year-old Gabe Bisonette quietly prepares his spear. With only a headlamp piercing the darkness, he scans the water for glowing reflections. The eye-shine of a walleye gives away its location. With one swift motion, Gabe thrusts his spear into the cold water, targeting the fish his ancestors have harvested for generations. He doesn’t speak—his bond with his father is strong enough that words aren’t needed during this sacred hunt. This age-old tradition of Ojibwe spearfishing remains a cornerstone of cultural identity and sustenance. Yet today, it faces mounting threats. Warmer water temperatures, erratic seasons, and lakefront development have begun to disrupt walleye populations. For Gabe and his family, losing this connection would be more than the disappearance of a food source—it would mean the erosion of sovereignty, spiritual practice, and generational knowledge.
Fighting for More Than Fish
Gabe’s uncle, Brian Bisonette, who serves as the conservation director for the Lac Courte Oreilles Conservation Department, has watched the climate shift over his lifetime. “What worries me,” he said, “is not just what I’ve seen change, but what my grandson will see.” For many Ojibwe, preserving access to the land and water is about far more than fishing—it’s about survival, tradition, and self-determination. The Ojibwe people secured the right to hunt, fish, and gather on their lands through treaties in the 1800s. Despite these legally binding agreements, Wisconsin officials once criminalized these traditional activities. For decades, tribal members endured harassment, arrests, and even violence for exercising rights guaranteed by federal law. It wasn’t until a landmark 1983 Supreme Court ruling reaffirmed their rights that these practices could continue openly, though opposition lingered.
Racism on the Water, Resilience in the Heart
Even now, hostility occasionally surfaces at public boat landings. While tribal wardens patrol to ensure safety, echoes of the past still haunt many Ojibwe families. “People yelled ‘go back to where you came from,’” Brian recalled. “We laugh it off sometimes, but it stays with you.” Still, community members refuse to let fear define them. Instead, they are strengthening the Ojibwe spearfishing tradition by teaching youth, engaging in conservation efforts, and collaborating with state and tribal agencies. Every fish speared, cleaned, and shared is a declaration: We are still here.
Modern Science Meets Indigenous Wisdom
Efforts to protect walleye populations combine traditional ecological knowledge with modern science. The Lac Courte Oreilles team works closely with the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources (DNR) and the Great Lakes Indian Fish and Wildlife Commission (GLIFWC) to monitor fish populations. Fisheries biologists like Max Wolter and regional team supervisor Angelena Sikora collect detailed data from lakes using nets and tagging methods. This collaborative research helps track changes in species health, size, and reproduction. Wolter explains that the issue isn’t that adult walleye are disappearing—it’s that fewer young fish are surviving. “Natural reproduction rates have dropped, particularly in certain lakes,” he said. Environmental changes are altering the conditions that once supported robust walleye spawning.
Climate Change Disrupts the Rhythm of the Water
The warming climate has introduced unpredictable shifts to Wisconsin’s inland lakes. The 2024 spearfishing season began earlier than expected due to the absence of ice. Lakes are becoming clearer during droughts, a result of slowed river inflows. Unfortunately, clearer water often creates a less favorable environment for walleye, who thrive in murkier conditions that protect their young. Kelly Martin, who has spear-fished for decades and carries the Ojibwe name “Giiwitaayaanimad,” meaning “wind blowing all around,” says these environmental changes have become impossible to ignore. As a roofing contractor, he also sees how lakeshore development has exploded since the pandemic, with new vacation homes sprouting along the water’s edge, adding further pressure to already fragile ecosystems.
Youth Carry the Torch
Despite the challenges, tribal members are investing heavily in the next generation. Youth like Gabe Bisonette are learning both the technical and spiritual aspects of spearfishing. On each trip, Gabe begins by offering tobacco to the water—a traditional practice that shows respect for nature and its gifts. Programs across Ojibwe territory now teach teenagers how to spear, identify fish, and understand the meaning behind their traditions. These moments create lasting connections between elders and youth, preserving not only the act of fishing but the stories, songs, and values that come with it.
Community, Culture, and Responsibility
Spearfishing provides more than sustenance; it fosters community. After the fish are speared, families spend hours cleaning and preparing them. Often, they distribute the catch to elders and others unable to fish. Kelly Martin describes this as a deeply fulfilling part of the process. “This is what life is about for some of our elders. I just hope I can be remembered for doing my part.” At lakeside gatherings, families share walleye fillets, stories, and laughter. Every fish fry is a celebration of endurance. Community members come together, building memories and reaffirming their identity in a world that often seeks to erase or commercialize it.
Tribes Lead the Way in Climate Adaptation
Ojibwe tribes are on the front lines of climate adaptation, not by choice but by necessity. Their traditional dependence on natural cycles has made them more sensitive to ecological changes. Recognizing this, the GLIFWC released a comprehensive Climate Change Vulnerability Assessment in 2023, integrating Indigenous knowledge with environmental science. As northern Wisconsin becomes a haven for climate migrants, Indigenous communities carry the burden of balancing cultural survival with external demand. Tourists and new residents enjoy the beauty of lakes like Chippewa Flowage but don’t share the same ancestral responsibility to care for them.
The Fight for the Future
The Ojibwe spearfishing tradition represents far more than a method of harvesting food. It is a living testament to Indigenous resilience, ingenuity, and reverence for nature. As Gabe Bisonette lifts his spear under the stars, he does more than catch fish—he honors his people’s history and ensures its survival. Brian Bisonette summed it up simply: “Adaptation is in our blood. We’ll keep fighting for our future.”
