I love that this takes place in the Pacific Northwest and focuses on salmon, an iconic species, and one that has been central to my work.
Langdon Cook is a good writer, but not a great one, hence 4 stars and not 5. I still find him worth reading because I am interested in wild foods and I’m interested in understanding the impacts of my diet choices. This is his most recent book, published in 2017.
Below, I summarize and share passages of the book that helped me process what I learned and the main messages of the book, at least from my perspective.
Salmon are in trouble. On the east coast, there are no reasons for hope. Atlantic Salmon are all farmed. “Other than a stream or two in Maine, New England is no longer home to wild Atlantic salmon in any sort of meaningful way, and very few people alive today have ever even tasted one”(3%).
Yet there are some reasons for hope for west coast populations, which we learn about in this book, like Yuba River Chinook and Snake River sockeye migration to Redfish Lake, “the terminus of the longest salmon migration in the contiguous United States”(58%). You can also still catch wild salmon in Canada and Alaska. Unlikely in the US, though not impossible, where they are “pestered by fish ladders, tanker trucks, hypodermics, and hatchery complexes”(59%).
On the Yuba, our intervention is critical. “Natural processes have been so thoroughly manipulated by human beings, from mountains to coast, that it’s hard to tell where the human-engineered landscape ends and the wild—if it still exists—begins. Ditto the so-called wildlife. Herds of elk, once nearly exterminated, now roam campgrounds. Most Golden State salmon begin their lives in a temperature-controlled egg tray”(59%).
Wild salmon is too iconic to let go extinct. “…more than any other fish, the salmon occupies a singular, mythic place in human cultures around the globe. Two salmon bedeck the Glasgow coat of arms. Loki, the trickster of Norse mythology, transforms himself into a salmon to elude capture. In Native American art, the salmon is a symbol of abundance and renewal”(4%).
Salmon like fish have been around for 50 million years, around the time the of the first primates. How have to my survived numerous large scale environmental catastrophes (flood, fire, ice) yet they can’t survive the Anthropocene? The same could be asked for numerous species.
Cook talks about the racism between Tribes and non-Tribal fisherman, particularly where I live, which I have experienced first hand. “These days, many anglers in salmon country don’t think kindly toward the Native
American fishery. They see the Indians as competitors for a dwindling resource and decry the nets that catch endangered runs of wild fish. Tensions run high on a place like the Olympic Peninsula… The peninsula was once thought to be sheltered from the forces of civilization that have decimated salmon populations elsewhere, but its famous fish runs are in steady decline. Many blame the Indian nets, none more so than hook-and-line anglers hoping to put a fat salmon in the freezer”(12-13%). Here’s another example, but from the Columbia River. “Brigham remembered meeting a sport angler who said he’d rather have zero fish than share the catch with Indians. The comment made me think of white anglers I’ve met through the years who think nothing of maligning Indians for their fishing rights, anglers who would never utter disparaging words about African Americans or Asian Americans—“That’s racist”—yet somehow feel that the first Americans do not deserve the same consideration”(20%).
We learn about the impact of the dams on the Columbia River, which have reduced salmon runs to a fraction of what they once were. The dams have also desecrated sacred sites for native Tribes. The Dalles Dam is one example. “…the former Celilo Falls. Called Wy-am, which means “the echo of water upon the rocks,” the sound of these falls hasn’t been heard since March 10, 1957, when the Dalles Dam closed its gates for the first time and flooded the most sacred of all fishing sites in North America”(14%).
The tribes managed salmon populations much better than white settlers. The author hears it referred to as “Spiritual game management”(14%). “Evidence shows that many tribes had developed sophisticated fishing cultures using a variety of tools and techniques, from spears and weirs to dip nets and gill nets, and through a process of trial and error over the course of centuries had learned to exploit salmon runs to the fullest extent possible without depleting the resource”(15%).
Instead, white settlers overfished and constructed dams, among other land uses that lead to the crash of salmon populations. I love this eloquent but tragic summary of what white settlers and their non-native descendants have wrought: “TUMBLING RIVERS TURNED INTO reservoirs; spawning grounds replaced by hatcheries; the deep blue sea scaled down to a salmon farm”(17%).
He talks quite a bit about hatcheries. It’s such a complicated issue, but I feel like I have a greater appreciation for it now.
- [ ] “In a landscape that’s been homogenized, we’ve populated a tamed river with a domesticated run of salmon. But without them, the argument goes, there would hardly be any springers at all”(17%).
- [ ] “… hatchery salmon are an illusion. An illusion that everything is okay. The missing adipose is all too obvious. It signifies loss”(17%).
- [ ] Salmon and hatcheries that support those populations are critical to native tribe’s culture. “The fish have a higher purpose…The commercial part comes later, when enough salmon have been put away for the year and the many spiritual rites performed, like the First Foods ceremony in April”(18%). This is according to Kathryn Brigham, a well-known figure in the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla, a union of the Cayuse, Walla Walla, and Umatilla tribes. Hatcheries help keep that culture alive. “In recent years, to ensure an adequate supply of ceremonial and subsistence fish, the four main treaty tribes along the Columbia—the Yakama, Umatilla, Warm Springs, and Nez Perce—have actively pursued a strategy of building salmon hatcheries, much to the chagrin of environmentalists. This is one of the central ironies on the Columbia River. One might think the tribes and environmentalists would be natural allies, but it hasn’t turned out that way. “We work with the environmentalists, but at the same time we’re not environmentalists,” Brigham told me. “Because of the dams, these hatcheries have to mitigate for the losses. There will always be a need for hatcheries. As tribal leaders we’re willing to sit down and talk, but always in the back pocket is that treaty right. We stand on our treaty right. If we don’t, our kids’ children and their children won’t be able to fish.” “(20%)
- [ ] If there’s a commercial market for wild fish, hatcheries are necessary supplements to the wild populations.
- [ ] Hatcheries are weakening the genetic diversity that has helped salmon survive for 50 million years. “A chinook from a coastal rainforest isn’t the same as a chinook from the high-desert plateau. Though the same species, each possesses a site-specific set of adaptive genes that make it more fit for a certain sort of habitat or run timing. Even in the same river system, stocks from different tributaries have genetic makeups that give them an advantage in their particular niche. Hatcheries can’t possibly address all this genetic variation… with the advent and proliferation of hatcheries, the hereditary diversity that has made salmon such vigorous survivors up and down the Pacific Rim—through volcano, earthquake, and Ice Age, through drought and disease—is now dwindling, as stocks go extinct in little tributary after tributary, victims of dams, overfishing, and development”(25%).
- [ ] Hatchery fish compete with wild fish, and they sometimes breed with them too, which dilutes the genetics of wild stocks. Are there truly wild populations of salmon left? Yes, but it’s complicated. “Guido Rahr once told me that pinks and chums were Alaska’s “dirty little secret.” While most of the country’s so-called wild salmon harvest comes from Alaska, the word wild is slippery… a large percentage of Alaska’s salmon harvest is actually hatchery fish, with most of those fish being pinks and chums”(38%).
- [ ] According to Guido Rahr with the Wild Salmon Center, “the success of wild salmon in this part of the world depends on limiting the influence of hatcheries and promoting the influence of healthy forests”(23%). “He views the hatchery system as the most pernicious obstacle in the way of restoring wild fish runs”(27%).
- [ ] Most people believe the hatchery system is a problem. “Today, just about everyone committed to the idea of wild fish wants to see the hatchery system overhauled. The exceptions are commercial fishermen, who can’t make a living without the hatcheries, sport-fishing guides (same reason), and Native Americans, who depend on salmon for ceremonial and subsistence purposes… The hatchery system, at its heart, was designed to give people fish to catch, not to save or enhance native fish populations”(26%).
- [ ] Not all hatcheries have the same purpose. Some are mitigation hatcheries, created to allow environmental destruction like a dam, and some are for conservation, also called captive brood stock hatcheries. One example of a conservation hatchery is Eagle Fish Hatchery, which is the lifeline for Redfish Lake sockeye. “To be clear, the Eagle Fish Hatchery is not a mitigation hatchery, like the majority of hatcheries on the Columbia system and elsewhere. Rather than mass-producing fish to be caught in a net or on a hook, its mandate is to keep the genetics of the Redfish Lake sockeye alive, with as much variation and diversity as possible… In all, nearly fifteen hundred sockeye salmon will be trapped and sorted this year. These are wild fish making the full trip upriver, and this population will be supplemented, in turn, with Redfish Lake sockeye raised in the hatchery from a parentage of previously trapped wild fish. This is what is meant by the term “captive brood stock.” … these Redfish Lake sockeye, as the southernmost population in North America and with the longest, steepest migration, offer a suite of genetics that makes them special. To lose them would be a blow to the species”(60%). But the author isn’t so sure there’s a real distinction between the two. “Put a new label on it—conservation hatchery or captive brood-stock hatchery—and you’re still left with a hatchery, a man-made environment that can never reproduce the myriad life histories of wild salmon”(60%). And these brood stock/conservation hatcheries are not enough. “Similar brood-stock hatcheries are up and running for Russian River coho in California, North Puget Sound chinook, and Elwha River pink salmon. [Jim] Lichatowich still worries that these conservation-hatchery plans have neither end dates nor criteria for evaluating success. Furthermore, the reasons for the decline—habitat loss and so on—need to be addressed in tandem with the restoration efforts. Conservation hatcheries treat a symptom, not a cause… He paraphrased the philosopher and nature writer Gary Nabhan: Animals don’t go extinct because we shoot them all. They go extinct because of an unraveling ecosystem. They lose ecological companionship. Fish hatched from brood stock, though derived from wild parents, aren’t the same as those from the previous generation. “When you take a fish out of the river and put it in a hatchery, then release it, you’re depriving the fish of ecological relationships.” I turned the question around for Lichatowich: Is humanity busy depriving itself of those same ecological relationships? He sighed. The world is indeed becoming a lonelier place”(60%).
What is being done and what can be done?
- [ ] The Wild Salmon Center is focusing on strongholds, where wild populations are still healthy and viable.
- [ ] In California, there is a collaboration with rice farmers to “intentionally flood their fields in winter… It’s a process that’s good for rice production and good for salmon. Studies are revealing that young fish in these managed floods grow much faster than those confined to the river proper. Katz calls them “floodplain fatties,” and the program was christened “The Nigiri Project,” for a variety of rice used in sushi”(44%).
- [ ] Reef netting is the most sustainable and the only truly selective fishery. We learn a lot about this rare fishing technique, visiting Lummi Island. “This ancient way of catching salmon numbered less than a hundred devotees in its ranks globally. Here on Lummi Island there were a total of eight gears, which made Lummi the center of the reef-net universe. Half of those eight gears were owned and operated by a single entity, Lummi Island Wild, the co-op”(65%). If it’s possible for consumers to buy reef net caught fish, they should. Bycatch is hard to avoid with any other fishing technique.
- [ ] Sustainable sushi restaurants like Carson Trennor’s in San Francisco, the first of its kind. Instead of serving unagi, they serve “fauxnagi”, which is black cod, still a sustainable fishery. Eel is now severely threatened throughout its range, partly because of the sushi market.
- [ ] Don’t eat farmed salmon. “Unlike livestock, which eat grass, salmon are carnivores. To produce a pound of farmed salmon requires a minimum—even at the most efficient farms—of a pound and a half of fish down the food chain, fish that otherwise might be eaten by humans or other predators in the wild… In simple terms, you’re taking a potential food source away from poorer people to produce a luxury food item”(79-80%).
- [ ] An effort Rene Henery is calling “Fins, feathers, and floods forever” or “F/X” on the San Joaquin River, working with private landowners to change their management techniques and help them see that “Floodwaters provide seasonal habitat, fertilize soils, and allow groundwater recharge for badly depleted aquifers—the definition of a win–win… Programs like the Nigiri Project and F/X are using innovative approaches to reintegrate a semblance of the wild into an engineered landscape”(85%).
Parts of the book are reminiscent of Braiding Sweetgrass, which I finished recently.
- [ ] The support by the Tribes of hatcheries has upset a lot of environmentalists, but Rene Henery, the author’s ecologist friend in California, understands it. He says, “ “Well, something that conservationists need to wrap their heads around,” Rene continued, “is the connection between salmon and people. For thousands of years, Native Americans were the ultimate stewards of salmon populations. It may well be that we can’t have salmon recovery without the recovery of indigenous cultures.” “(20%)
- [ ] Here’s one particularly poignant example of this clash between science and traditional ecological knowledge. “The early years of co-management were difficult. The tribes didn’t have any scientists. The white technicians laughed, Kat Brigham recalled, when a tribal elder said the salmon were coming because the dogwoods were blooming. “How tribal people saw the world was not technical. It was based on Mother Nature’s signs. The non-Indians didn’t see it that way. Rather than try to understand it, they made fun of it.” “(20%)
- [ ] Rene Henery expresses the following, ““Let’s come into a new balance in which we’re part of the system, not fighting it. But first we have to change our relationship to place or we’re just continuing the invasive-species experience, which is essentially what colonialism is”(57). It’s all about the relationship to the land and those that call it home, human and non-human.
- [ ] Rene also refers to salmon carcasses as gifts. ““The whole point of these high-desert creeks is that they green up with a gift from the sea,” Rene said. Salmon and steelhead infuse these otherwise sterile places with ocean isotopes—nutrients from the cradle of existence—allowing life to thrive in a hard environment. The loss of these nutrients is bad for the fish and, ultimately, bad for the farmer”(57%).
- [ ] “Neither Rene nor Katz likes the word restoration. They prefer reconciliation, with its subtext of resolving long-simmering feuds. “The idea of restoration for most people is to put something back the way it was,” Rene said. “There’s a growing consensus that the land will never be as it was. We live in a dynamic space; things are always changing. The future is unknown. It’s not a fixed point.” In other words, the landscape isn’t a rusted ’65 Mustang waiting under a tarp for a new owner with deep pockets. The best we can do to heal old wounds is to reconcile the land with new uses that help to bring it into some sort of balance” (82%). Using the term reconciliation is another reference to needing to heal the relationship with the land.