Wayne Andersen, president of the Hamlin Lake Preservation Society, ready for a paddle to the manoomin bed on the northeast arm of Hamlin Lake. Photo by Stewart A. McFerran.
By Stewart A. McFerran
“Old man turtle ambles along the deerpath, seeking breakfast. A strand of wild rice grass dangles from his pincer-like beak.”
-Edward Abbey, “Hayduke Lives!”
Chewy, nutty and nutritious when cooked, wild rice is sought after for its texture, flavor and heartiness. Traditionally, wild rice growing in lake beds is harvested by Native Americans in late August and early September. In fact, the Menominee Tribe of Michigan’s Upper Peninsula and elsewhere was named after “manoomin,” the Native American name for the wild rice growing there.
First Peoples living in the Upper Midwest use canoes or slow-moving boats to approach wild rice stands. They carry short sticks to gently prod the plants, dislodging the seeds (rice). Some land in the water to reseed next season, and some fall in their watercraft to be prepared and eaten later or stored.
In Mason County, a large stand of wild rice growing in Hamlin Lake is managed by the Little River Band of Ottawa Indians (LRBOI). The stand attracts birds and piques the curiosity of area visitors.
Wild rice history
There are a lot of “ists,” such as botanists, conservationists and geneticists, who study wild rice. Add the “ologists” ⸺ the ethnologist, ecologist, limnologist, sociologist and biologist ⸺ to the league of experts studying this plant. Wild rice, a type of grass, still grows in the shallow lakes of Michigan and other Great Lake states, such as Minnesota.
The story of wild rice is intertwined with the story of Indigenous peoples. The Anishinaabek continue to be guided by a prophecy of a homeland where food grows on the water. The rice blooms atop a long-stemmed grass waving above the surface.
Manoomin ⸺ “good berry” or “harvesting berry,” as Native populations call wild rice ⸺ has been tended in shallow water for millennia. Historically, care was taken by the Anishinaabek to see that it spread and thrived in watery stands. In that way, this tasty crop of grain was cultivated, making the name “wild” a bit of a misnomer.
The Anishinaabek recognize the central role manoomin plays in their lives. The traditions of gathering have been reestablished and celebrated, affirming that the process of gathering from a canoe result both in the reseeding of the plants and collection of the grain. The traditions have helped the bands of Ojibwa, Odawa and Potawatomi to retain a degree of food sovereignty. Including this high protein grain in their diet, sometimes cooked a traditional way in deer broth or maple syrup and sometimes roasted, is a healthy way to respect and carry on the traditions of their people.
A LRBOI Tribal citizen and current Tribal Tax Officer, Valerie Chandler is also a former Historic Preservation Coordinator.
“Historically, as legends or tales have been told through generations, the Three Fires (Ottawa, Chippewa, Potawatomi) people were told to settle ‘where food grows on water,’” Chandler explained. “This food is wild rice in the Great Lakes area and has sustained our people for centuries. It was (and for some, still is) a significant staple to the traditional diet because it could be stored for long periods, especially when fresh food was not available.
“It’s a truly natural and healthy grain that our ancestors harvested in the local waters, where the villages and camps were located. It provided for social interaction because of the laborious process involved in harvesting and processing the rice. Because it was a traditional staple food, it was often incorporated into many dishes, and today at feasts and ceremonies, it can be found as a way to remember our ancestors and given as offerings.”
Hamlin Lake’s stand
I recently took a boat ride through one of the largest stands of wild rice in Michigan. Wayne Andersen, president of the Hamlin Lake Preservation Society, launched his boat on the northeast arm of Hamlin Lake, and I rode along. At the boat launch there is a sign indicating the presence of manoomin. We climbed in his boat and paddled through tall fronds of rice. He pointed out the public access used by people living in subdivisions on the south side of Hamlin Lake. The sign reminds boaters to be careful not to disturb the manoomin that grows all the way across the lake.
Alexis DeGabriele, a LRBOI aquatic biologist, weighed in on the longevity of the wild rice stand in Hamlin Lake.
“There are a lot of factors that play into whether or not wild rice still grows in an area that it historically grew in,” she began. “One of the things about Hamlin Lake is the fact that where the Big Sable (River) comes in is a lot of Forest Service land; it provides protection from development. That really helps that stand (of rice) to be there.”
The rice grows in shallow water. Water levels can change, affecting the growth of the rice. The ownership of these areas on the margins of land and water was and still is marginal. For the Anishinaabek, it may have been a question of who was allowed to harvest, rather than who owned the bottomlands or where the highwater mark is located.
Michigan’s two varieties
Manoomin is the name the Anishinaabek use to refer to “Zizania.” The botanists tell us there are four species, two found in Michigan: Zizania aquatica and Zizania palustris. The wild rice on Hamlin Lake is Z. palustris (northern lake rice). Z. aquatica is found near riverbanks, where currents move slowly.
In Barbara Barton’s book “Manoomin: The Story of Wild Rice in Michigan,” the author tells us that Z. palustris is more abundant in Michigan. Z. aquatica is only found in small stands in limited areas and is considered a threatened species. A permit must be obtained to harvest Z. aquatica. Both types of wild rice are susceptible to changing water levels and disturbances in shallow water areas. Each needs good water quality to thrive.
Allison Smart, project manager for the LRBOI wild rice stand, said that Z. aquatica is more affected by poor water quality and water levels than Z. palustris. This may account for Z. aquatica’s limited range.
“It’s a complex history that’s difficult to (explain),” Smart said. “It is also a species that needs very specific parameters to grow. If the water quality is off, you’ll see issues in your wild rice beds. A lot of different species that are not plants ⸺ ducks, different types of birds, a lot of different types of fish ⸺ are using wild rice beds for different life stages, so it’s got a lot of ecological value.”
Monitoring wild rice locally
According to DeGabriele, the Little River Band has intensively monitored the local wild rice beds “since the early 2000s.” LRBOI also partnered with Central Michigan University prior to 2016 to conduct a survey of both types of wild rice in the state’s streams and lakes. The team sampled 20 wild rice habitats to try to determine the ecological requirements for a hardy stand.
“Hamlin has had a really healthy population since we started doing the intensive monitoring,” DeGabriele explained. “We’ve also been able to find a lot of other locations in the area that have wild rice, whether it is Z. aquatica or Z. palustris.”
Threats to wild rice
German carp were introduced into Sandusky Bay in Lake Huron in 1888. The species has since spread throughout the Great Lakes.
“They were notorious for spoiling wetland areas, streams and rivers because they uprooted vegetation and left muddy, murky water in their wake. They liked wild rice most …,” wrote Margaret B. Bogue, in her historical account of damage to fisheries called, “Fishing the Great Lakes.”
Draining wetlands and damming rivers are actions that cause changes in water levels. Those changes historically led to the loss of large stands of wild rice.
Smart and DeGabriele have experienced some ups and downs.
“One of the really cool restorations was up in Arcadia Marsh,” DeGabriele said. “As the recanalization of Bowens Creek happened, Z. aquatica population there increased by quite a bit.
“Our efforts to restore Z. palustris in Manistee Lake also (were) impacted by the high-water levels in the Great Lakes.”
The monitoring and study of manoomin continues and gives the Natural Resources personnel at LRBOI the information they need to protect stands of this remarkable plant.
Science and Culture of Wild Rice
By Stewart A. McFerran
Science does not operate in a vacuum. The exception may be deep space, but even there the gadgets traveling through the vacuum of space are guided by teams of our fellow humans. Decisions those teams make can have repercussions back on Earth. Similarly, decisions to pursue genetic modifications of manoomin have had repercussions.
Alexis DeGabriele, aquatic biologist for the LRBOI, said the University of Minnesota-Twin Cities worked hard to reestablish relationships with tribal communities in their state and the region after trying to genetically modify wild rice seeds in the 1990s for the “big seed companies.”
“So, I think it’s a two-fold kind of interest,” she said. “One is (that) tribal natural resources departments, governments and citizens are interested in protecting and preserving manoomin, which allows natural resources departments to work with universities to fund and co-lead research.
“The other piece of it is the dark side of wild rice, and that is the history at University of Minnesota at Twin Cities, the industry trying to create rice that was easily harvestable (that) didn’t shatter all of those issues of genetic modification of a culturally sacred plant to the Indigenous communities of the Upper Great Lakes region.”
According to DeGabriele, “true” genetic modification wasn’t successful, but some places use a kind of rice like those grown in rice paddies, a cultivated variety of Z. palustris grown in California, Canada and, to a lesser extent, Minnesota.
