Every spring, the shad come back.
They’ve been making the same trip for thousands of years – hatching in the Delaware River, disappearing into the Atlantic, then returning years later to spawn in the same freshwater they came from. The Lenape fished them here. Colonial settlers built their livelihoods on them. And for one Lambertville family, they’ve been the whole point since 1888.
ShadFest kicks off April 25–26, 2026 on Lambertville’s waterfront for its 43rd year. But before you go, it’s worth knowing what you’re actually celebrating.
American shad are remarkable fish — and weirdly underrated.
They’re anadromous, which means they’re born in freshwater, spend most of their adult lives in the ocean, then return to the exact river they came from to spawn. An individual shad might travel 12,000 miles over its lifetime. It’s one of the longest migration cycles of any fish on the Atlantic coast.
In the Delaware River, the shad run kicks off when water temperatures hit the mid-60s — typically mid-April through late May. When it happens, it happens fast. The river fills up. Striped bass follow them in. Bears and raptors and cormorants show up for the feast. It’s a full ecosystem event.
At peak production in the late 1800s, the Delaware was pulling in 3 to 4 million shad per year. Not catches — fish. It was one of the most productive commercial fisheries on the entire Atlantic coast. Communities on both sides of the river depended on it. Shad was working-class food — cheap, abundant, caught right here.
Then it started collapsing.
Overfishing. Industrial pollution. Factories up and down both banks. The Delaware got bad enough that older generations remember being warned not to go near the water, let alone swim in it. By 1953, the total shad catch on the Delaware was zero. Not low. Zero.
The Clean Water Act changed things. Conservation efforts followed. Slowly — very slowly — the river came back. And the shad came back with it. When they did, Lambertville threw a party.
That party is now 43 years old.
William Lewis started his fishery on the Delaware in Lambertville in 1888. Back then, it was a good business. By the mid-20th century, it was more of a commitment than a livelihood.
The Lewis family kept fishing through the bad decades. Through zero-catch years. Through the systematic closure of every other commercial shad operation on the river. Everyone else eventually quit.
The Lewis Fishery didn’t.
Today it’s the only remaining commercial shad operation on the non-tidal Delaware River. Steve Meserve — fourth generation, grandson of Fred Lewis — still runs it. He hauls seine nets the same way they’ve always done it, by hand, from the same stretch of river. The catch is a fraction of what it once was. He does it anyway.
The Lewis Fishery holds a live demonstration of the haul seine — the same net-pulling technique they’ve used since 1888. It’s one of the most genuinely interesting things at the whole festival, and most people walk right past it. Don’t.
It’s the kind of story that should probably be a documentary, hint hint Netflix.
Here’s the thing nobody’s going to tell you in a press release: shad does not taste great.
It’s bony, oily, and — depending on who you ask — somewhere between “acquired taste” and “tastes like old sneakers.” The local consensus, delivered with a lot of affection, is that the best way to prepare shad is to cook it on a cedar plank, and when it’s done, throw the fish away and eat the plank.
That said — shad roe is a different story. The eggs are considered a genuine delicacy. More delicate, more nuanced. If you want to say you actually ate the shad, the roe is the move.
And if you just want to eat something good? There are plenty of other food vendors. The shad chowder is worth a try for the experience alone. The kettle corn is excellent. Wild Bill’s old-fashioned sodas are a crowd favorite.
Nobody’s going home hungry.
The fish is the reason for the Shadfest festival, but the festival is really about the town.
Think of it as Lambertville’s biggest block party — both sides of the river, all weekend. Music on multiple stages. Vendors spilling down Bridge Street and along the waterfront. The restaurants are packed. The brewery is packed. Kids are doing arts and crafts at the Station lot. Someone’s always dancing somewhere.
You’ll find:
- 75+ local artists and makers — jewelry, ceramics, furniture, apparel, hand-crafted goods all along Bridge Street and the waterfront
- Live music all weekend long
- A poster auction at the white church on North Union Street — original artwork from local and regional artists, with proceeds going to student scholarships. Seriously, don’t miss this one.
- Kids’ activities— canvas printing, candle making, carnival rides
- A very good reason to walk across the bridge to New Hope and spend an hour browsing before coming back for music and food
It runs Saturday and Sunday, April 25–26, 11am–5pm both days, rain or shine. Free to attend.
Below are some insider tips from people who have been there to help you plan accordingly.
- Parking is a blood sport. Locals will tell you: if you can get a spot Friday, don’t move your car until Sunday night. For the rest of us — get there early, or park across the river in New Hope and walk the bridge back into town. It’s a nicer approach anyway.
- The waterfront is where you want to be. Bridge Street is fun, but the atmosphere along the Delaware is what makes ShadFest feel like ShadFest.
- Saturday at 1pm: Lewis Fishery demonstration. Already said it, saying it again — this is the most historically interesting thing at the whole event. Go watch.
- Stay for the evening. Things loosen up after 5pm. The town doesn’t exactly shut down when the vendors do.
Here’s the less cheerful part: the shad aren’t doing great.
Numbers have declined across nearly every Atlantic river system. Climate shifts, predation pressure, habitat loss — it’s a complicated picture. The Delaware has had better restoration results than some rivers, but the run is still a shadow of what it once was.
The Lewis Fishery still goes out every spring. They still pull nets. Some years are better than others.
Which is exactly why ShadFest has meaning beyond craft vendors and kettle corn. It’s a 43-year-old community acknowledgment that this river, this fish, and this family are worth showing up for.
The shad came back. That deserves a party.
Event Details
- When: Saturday–Sunday, April 25–26, 2026 | 11am–5pm
- Where: Lambertville waterfront and Bridge Street, Lambertville, NJ
- Cost: Free admission
- Parking: Extremely limited — arrive early, or park in New Hope and walk the bridge
- Don’t miss: Lewis Fishery haul seine demo, Saturday 1pm | Poster auction at the white church on North Union St.
Check the Wander Jersey event calendar for more things happening in Hunterdon County.
Sources:
https://www.nj.gov/drbc/basin/living/american-shad.html
https://www.pewtrusts.org/en/research-and-analysis/articles/2017/05/15/shad-fisherman-carries-on-family-tradition-as-catch-dwindles
