Fire and Ice
Perched at the edge of frozen rivers, ice-fishing and smelt shacks are celebratory signs of Maine winters.
Fire and Ice
Perched at the edge of frozen rivers, ice-fishing and smelt shacks are celebratory signs of Maine winters.
Issue: January 2020
Text and photography by: Susan Metzger
I photograph the elements of Maine that reveal a strong sense of place and authenticity, and I find these elements in historic architecture and in traditional ways of working that have spanned generations. I’ve been photographing smelt camps and ice fishing for several years on and around the Kennebec and Medomak Rivers. I love following the circular fishing seasons the way smelt fishing gives way to elver fishing, and elver fishing gives way to alewife fishing, bait fishing, lobstering, and so forth. I am compelled to document the seasonal fishing for many personal reasons (my father was a fanatical fisherman), but it’s the climate crisis that is front and center for me.
I live close to where the Medomak River branches and splits and becomes Muscongus Bay. Here the river ice is similar to the tidal action of the North Atlantic: it shifts and collides, causing rifts and cracks and layers as if it were a tectonic plate. I’m amazed at the vulnerability I see in the little camps on the big, moving rivers. There is a rope secured to the shore of the Medomak that goes out to the camps, and large sections of it are often swallowed by ice. It’s a lifeline back to safety—something to hold onto. On the Kennebec the ice seems more stable, far away from the tidal action. But when spring comes, the entire river breaks into pieces. In the coldest winter months, you find dense little villages of camps, all connected to each other with a multitude of extension cords and duct tape. As night falls, these camps come alive and glow in the dark. There’s the smell of woodsmoke and frying fish. There’s music and laughter—a block party on ice. It’s a reunion and convention of sorts, all celebrating the fish, the river, the winter, and the warm companionship around a wood stove in a canvas shelter with a strong current of very cold, black water flowing right beneath your feet.
A veteran smelt fisher Cody York told me, “The best part of smelting is being out on the ice with friends and family. Catching the smelt is just extra to me. Being able to make memories that will last a lifetime is something you can’t put a price tag on.” On a freezing cold Saturday night, it’s the best party in the state.
A fisherman pulls a sled through rough tidal ice on the Medomak River. 
Shacks at Riverbend Smelt Camps sit on frozen waters in Bowdoinham.
A fisherman drags a dinghy to cross open waters. 
In the background, the former button factory in Waldoboro looms over the Medomak River. 
After dark at Worthing’s Smelt Camp.
Changing tidelines in the river ice. 
Fisherman Cody York catches a smelt on his birthday. 
Before dark at Worthing’s Smelt Camp in Randolph.
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