UNLESS they enjoy fishing, I doubt many motorists on the A1 give the brown slick of tidal water stretching west from the bridge separating Gateshead from Newcastle upon Tyne a second glance. The river is a much grander sight a mile downstream where the parabolic arch of the famous Tyne bridge – built in 1928 – spans waters that have always been synonymous with a great northern city, epitomised by Lindisfarne’s 1971 hit single Fog on the Tyne. The image of fog is redolent of the shipbuilding and heavy engineering that brought prosperity to Newcastle during the Industrial Revolution in the 19th century, but this progress marked the beginning of the end for the Tyne’s migratory fish. By 1959 the situation was so dire that salmon were prevented in their entirety from accessing hereditary spawning grounds by an insurmountable barrier of filth, and not one was caught that year.
Since that lamentable nadir, the Tyne’s gradual return to past glories is a gripping story of revival and restoration that began with the improvement of estuary waterform Europe’s largest artificial lake in 1981 could have set progress back to the 1950s – only it didn’t, thanks in no small part to Peter Gray, who was the grandson of a Tweed boatman. Under Gray’s direction the salmon hatchery established at Kielder Water to compensate for the catastrophic loss of habitat flourished to such an extent that when he retired in 2005 the annual rod catch stood at more than 4,000 salmon, and the Tyne’s phoenix-like rise from the ashes was complete. Gray’s illuminating story was published in 2011, and the hatchery he founded continues to return many thousands of fry to the system each year.
