Its Really all About the Salmon

Once again this year, we are watching and wondering about the salmon returns to the Glendale River in Knight Inlet. According to the DFO weekly counts, the return is far below what the 2010 out migration of 20 million salmon fry should produce. Last count I heard was about 80 thousand adult pinks have returned to spawn. Early estimates hoped for up to a million returning pinks, even half that would be possible in good ocean conditions. That count may go up, but normally by this time of year all the fish are lying in the deep river pools. At the same time we are listening to reports from the Cohen Commission on the sockeye collapse of 2009 and wonder if anything will actually come out of spending millions of dollars on another exercise in futility. One company pointing blame fingers at the other, the environmentalists pointing at industry and the government pleading innocence, confusion, lack of funding, low staff numbers and muzzling of key scientists. One scientist disagrees with others, doctors of this and doctors of that who cannot or do not want to cooperate with each other for fear of tumbling their own house of cards in the gamble to appear to correct the apparent demise of wild salmon.

In the meantime, the time honoured struggle by the salmon to propagate their species continues in innumerable rivers along the west coast of North America. Everyday the salmon face more obstacles than we can count, both man made and natural. It is these challenges that make me pause to wonder at their unselfish determination. Everyday I stand along side the river observing salmon waiting patiently in the deep pools for their body's hormones to complete the metamorphosis from powerful, sleek, silver ocean fish to the dark, ragged and torn specimen, determined to spawn in the river of their birth. The females grow dark green with pink highlights as their eggs ripen once they hit the fresh river water. The males also grow dark green with yellow and pink highlights; their backs grow into a large hump and their jaws become more hooked with large canine teeth. These transformations happen relatively quickly, over about 6 weeks. I watched the first salmon female digging her redd the other day until she was chased off temporarily by an eagle looking for a fishy meal.

Some of our guests wonder why these fish turn so ugly as they prepare to spawn. I often equate our own pregnant female with the spawning salmon. I have never found them to be beautiful either. I do admire the dedication and the beauty that the salmon have for their mates, even though they are "ugly!" Beauty is in the eye of the beholder and I continue to understand and appreciate the beauty of the natural world.

I watch as the salmon finally leave the security of the deep, tannin stained pools, in a rush through the shallows to get to their final spawning site. Sometimes they go as a mob, rushing, splashing, scurrying through shallow riffles, hoping to confuse a waiting, predatory bear or eagle. It seems that there may be safety in numbers as the odds of getting "me" lessen, may motivate this rush, like a beach head attack on D-day. Occasionally they sneak up, one at a time, hoping nobody will notice their strategic advance.

Of course, every once in a while the bear wins. As cheerleaders, watching this age old contest, we often have mixed feelings about which team to cheer for. We know how crucial it is for the bear to get the maximum calories that it needs to have a fat cushion for the coming 5 months of fasting hibernation. On years when there is a large enough salmon return, it is not so difficult to cheer for the bears. During the bear feast, when they need 50 thousand or more calories per day, we know that it requires a lot of fish to satisfy this hyperphagia. ( I figure about 2000 calories per fish).

On years when there are few salmon our loyalties are challenged, understanding how important it is to the long term health of the environment that each salmon makes it to spawn, before getting eaten.

In the meantime, all we can do as interested spectators is to raise awareness and understanding of the plight of the salmon and bears. As the salmon are a "keystone" species and the bears are "top of the food chain" species, both of their secure, strong numbers will ensure that the whole environment around them will also be healthy. Irregardless of what Justice Cohen decides next year, the healthy wilderness still comes down to the courage, the determination and the wisdom of each animal to survive and continue the struggle to propagate their own species.

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Predator Conundrums

The last few weeks of the season at the lodge demonstrated to me how we as humans can let our emotions and meddling get in the way of Mother Nature's grand plans. As a demonstration project at the lodge, we have a fish hatchery. In this hatchery we raise coho salmon. Last fall we went out and caught a female and a male coho salmon from the river, stripped her eggs and fertilized them with his milt. All winter long they were incubated in the plastic incubator, safe from the ravages of predators and flooding rivers. This spring, once they were all "buttoned up" we placed them into the trough in the Interpretive Center where we fed them a large healthy diet of commercial fish food. By September they had grown to an average size of 4.5 grams, maybe 3 or 4 times the size of wild coho raised in their natural riverine environment.

Once we deemed the river had enough water after the dry season and the water temperature cooled down to be comfortable for the salmon, we began releasing them into a quiet pool in the Glendale river. 3200 coho fry were released with our best intentions and wishes for a safe journey to the Pacific Ocean and back in three years from now. This is our first instant of meddling with Mother Nature. Many people believe that hatchery raised fish should not be allowed as they have a very unfair advantage over naturally reared wild salmon fry due to their much larger size. The larger fry may have a bit of a setback until they learn where to find food in the river rather than having it dropped to them daily from above. They may also need to learn to watch for wild natural predators who are looking for a meal, especially large dumb fry. Once they become accustomed to their wild habitat, the large fry will begin to eat natural food such as insects, bugs and smaller salmon fry. That's right, they will be eating their smaller wild cousins who did not have the advantages that the large, human fed, fry have had. Humans first mistake even though we mean well. We believe that we are trying to help the river out by raising a few more fish who will grow up to be large coho, fun fish to catch on a rod and reel for our benefit. These fully grown coho also bring back nutrients from the ocean that will eventually feed the bears and the forest around the river. These are all valid, positive justifications for our interference, however we do not really know the true cost to the river. Are these behemoths eating more wild fry than we released, thereby resulting in a net loss of coho in the long run? We have no way of knowing for sure.

The next potential interference we noted was the predators of the wild coho fry. We watched as a Great Blue Heron sat in it's favorite fishing hole daily, snatching coho fry from their hiding spot in the shallows. Now I know that herons are having a rough time of surviving along the coast and are protected by law, but this murderous fish poacher was starting to bring my own style of western justice out of the self imposed mothballs. Henry would sit in front of we humans and brazenly catch wild coho salmon fry day after day, hour after hour.
He would only abandon his fishing hole if a grizzly approached too close for comfort, then he would croak his complaints about the injustices in his life, as he flew to safety in the alder trees above. Don't think I didn't wish I had a sling shot or a twelve gauge handy to protect the salmon fry. What was the use of all of our hard work raising fry only to be eaten by a fish poacher like Henry the Heron?
We got lots of discussion mileage out of this demonstration of the salmon's role in life. They are themselves predators put on earth to "eat and be eaten." It is their role in Nature's grand scheme: eat all they can and feed over 150 different species of predators during their short life. Along their epic odyssey, they will transfer their body weight of nutrients gathered from the open ocean back to their natal river where, they will procreate their species, then die, leaving their large rotting carcasses to feed the river, the bears and eagles and fertilize the forest.

Let us quit interfering in this perfect plan. Let us make it as easy as possible for the wild salmon to make their already dangerous journey, unimpeded by our meddling.

Season 2010 Begins

The 2010 season began on Feb 22 with a thrilling ride under the fog and just above the water in a helicopter. Knight Inlet Lodge looked sound and secure as the dogs greeted us when we landed safely.

We quickly got the water and the heater turned on in our quarters . Our luggage was safely stowed and we soon had lunch ready. We were here early to begin the annual salmon out migration count. After last falls tremendous migration of pink salmon from the Pacific we are expecting very large numbers of fry. In the next couple days we were busy setting up the fry splitter trap at the Glendale River spawning channel and the rotary screw trap in the river, about a half mile downstream. There had obviously been some major high water events over the winter as there were new log jams and more erosion along the river banks. Hopefully these floods did not do too much damage to the salmon redds as they waited for their precious eggs to hatch.

It was unusual to catch the first fry before the end of February, but we did this year. The winter was warmer than normal so the eggs would have hatched a bit sooner. We had between 50 and 100 pink fry in the 5% box everyday in Feb. 100 fry equals about 2000 fry leaving the spawning channel every day. As the season progresses the numbers get bigg daily. The peak that I saw and counted was on March 26, when there were 64838 grams of fish at 3.79 fry per gram translates to 245,736 fry in the 5% holding box. That is potentially 1,149.845 pinks went over the weir in the past 24 hours. Many days toward the end of March were over 1 million fish or close to it. When I left on April 5 we had counted over 13 million fry which had left the spawning channel. This is quite a sight to see when you open the box and can't see the bottom for fry swimming around. Every scoop of the net holds thousands of fish. You can stand at the end of the weir and watch the fry resting in a holding pool trying to avoid the rushing water that leads them to the trap. They are not hurt as the waters take them gently through this obstacle, one of thousands they will encounter on their long journey. The river will be much more hazardous for them.

Downstream sits the RST, anchored to the river bank. This trap floats on top of the water, trying to monitor the salmon fry run in the river. It is not nearly as accurate as the weir because there are too many other channels that the fish can use. This year there is a new log jam just upstream from this trap, so that effects where the fry go in the channel. The one notable fact we see this year is the total absence of chum salmon. Normally we would have about 15 to 20 percent of the fry caught in the RST be chum. This year it is very rare to see even one chum salmon.

I also monitor the bird life that hang around the estuary for the winter. The highlight for me are the Trumpeter swans. This year there are 19 swans living in the river mouth. That is the same count as the previous two years. Mallards, Canada geese and common mergansers are the largest flocks of birds. 13 different species in the end of Feb. Mar 14 that number increased to 19, but there were only 2 swans left. I even saw one pied bald robin for the first time. By the first of April I noticed the first Common loons and the Barrows Goldeneyes had replaced the common goldeneye.

Pacific White sided dolphins and harbor seals were common visitors. I watched the seals feeding on herring around the quiet waters of the lodge. A sudden splash as the herring ball jumped out of the water trying to avoid becoming a seal meal often stopped us to watch this dramatic action. In the clear water we often witnessed the chase underwater.

We also spend some time getting the lodge ready for the season. Busses and equipment all have to be serviced and started. Supplies have to be checked out and ordered, firewood is cut and chopped, meals are prepared and dishes washed by ourselves. We are all very capable cooks, so it is fun to do.

For the first time, we raised a batch of Coho eggs over the winter. The local coho were caught and eggs stripped and fertilized then installed into the incubator. Over the long winter it was the caretakers job to make sure they survived. April 2 we turned them loose into the cap trough in the interpretive center for the summer. They even began eating within a day or so.

In the evenings, I have been busy editing my latest book. The publisher edited it once, sent it back to me for a bit of rewriting, then I sent it back. Only a couple minor changes the second time around and it is ready for the design stage. The Wild Salmon Odysey should be out this summer. Seasons of the Grizzly continues to sell with the new assistance of a distributor Sandhill Books.

I have also been counting the days to when Fay and I will head out on our first major holiday. We are going to London, then Zambia for a month. We are counting our dollars, cruising the internet, buying cloths and gear in preparation for this event. We are both very excited to be able to have this opportunity. This is a guide exchange with a camp called Norman Carr Safaris, so we get the freedom of their camps and will bring one of their guides back here when we come home. I think Aubrey is as excited as we are.

The lodge will open for the season on May 15, and I am looking forward to my fourth season.