Kings of the Yukon: An Alaskan River Journey

by Adam Weymouth

One man's thrilling and transporting journey by canoe across Alaska in search of the king salmon

The Yukon river is 2,000 miles long, the longest stretch of free-flowing river in the United States. In this riveting examination of one of the last wild places on earth, Adam Weymouth canoes along the river's length, from Canada's Yukon Territory, through Alaska, to the Bering Sea. The result is a book that shows how even the most remote wilderness is affected by the same forces reshaping the rest of the planet.

Every summer, hundreds of thousands of king salmon migrate the distance of the Yukon to their spawning grounds, where they breed and die, in what is the longest salmon run in the world. For the communities that live along the river, salmon was once the lifeblood of the economy and local culture. But climate change and a globalized economy have fundamentally altered the balance between man and nature; the health and numbers of king salmon are in question, as is the fate of the communities that depend on them.

Traveling along the Yukon as the salmon migrate, a four-month journey through untrammeled landscape, Adam Weymouth traces the fundamental interconnectedness of people and fish through searing and unforgettable portraits of the individuals he encounters. He offers a powerful, nuanced glimpse into indigenous cultures, and into our ever-complicated relationship with the natural world. Weaving in the rich history of salmon across time as well as the science behind their mysterious life cycle, Kings of the Yukon is extraordinary adventure and nature writing at its most urgent and poetic.

Genres: Nonfiction, Travel, Nature, Adventure, Environment, Memoir, Canada

288 pages, Paperback

First published May 15, 2018

Reviews

[Diane S ☔ · Rating 4 out of 5]

King Salmon, tied to the culture of the people of the First nation, now making it's last stand in the Yukon. Everything one ever wanted to know about this king of salmon, the days when they thrived, and now their decline. The author sets out on a 2000 mile journey, mostly by canoe, down the Yukon River, starting in Canada and continuing on into Alaska. Along the way he stops, visits villages, talks to natives who have depended on the salmon, as a staple to get them through the long Winters, but also as a way of life, tradition. He talks to homesteaders, some reality TV stars, from the various shows now on our television. He contrasts past information, with present day reality. Although climate change is s certainty in its effect on the salmon numbers, he finds it is much more complicated than that.

I enjoyed this book immensely, he is a great fact purveyor, but also an interesting story teller. His description of the river, the fauna, the different cultures and ways of life those he encounters I found engrossing. It is to be expected that those living in what is called the last fronteir, the last wilderness, would be hardy and a different type of character. He takes us back in time to Gold Rush days, when so much of where he passes, was in it's heydey, showing us know how changed, different things are, though the effects still linger. We even get to visit England, where salmon was once do plentiful, it was hunted by dogs. We even get to hear from Charles Dickens, his viewpoint of their diminishing numbers.

Regulations. Salmon farms, a shorter fishing season, now in place to try to conserve and multiply these Salmon, reversing the current trend. Alaska is the last place where it may, of should I say must, get it right, or we humans will have managed to eliminate another once plentiful species. My only regret while reading this book was that photographs were not included. Did appreciate the map in the front, where I could follow his journey on the river, and the towns, villages where he stopped.

[Candi · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5 stars

"The life of a fish and a river, as I have learned, is astonishingly complex."

This isn’t the type of book I imagined myself picking up. But then, I do enjoy an excellent travelogue. However, I was just the tiniest bit hesitant to read about salmon; and I knew that the plight of the King, as it is called in Alaska (or the Chinook in Canada), was going to play a major role here. Enjoying a piece of salmon grilled to perfection or biting into a bagel with cream cheese and lox don’t necessarily equate to being a fisherman, an ecologist, a salmon biologist, or an ichthyologist (love this word). Yet, I found this piece to be extremely fascinating!

Freelance journalist Adam Weymouth spent four months paddling up the Yukon River from its source in the Yukon Territory of Canada to the mouth at the Bering Sea in Alaska. This 2,000 mile journey is mostly spent on the river, with various stops along the way where Weymouth speaks to those who depend on the salmon for their livelihood and nourishment, mostly indigenous peoples, fishermen and other locals. With stopovers in places like Dawson City and Fort Yukon, the history is rich and always interesting. "The river carries the echoes of the generations, a poem to a place. I have never felt history so tangible. People know where they belong here."

The alarming decline in the number of salmon runs as well as in the size of the fish is something not to be ignored. Weymouth attempts to put together the pieces of a puzzle by eliciting theories from the people working first-hand along the river along with the studies conducted by biologists and officials from the Alaska Department of Fish and Game. Climate change, economic effects, commercial versus subsistence fishing, and fishing methods all play a role in the changes seen in these numbers. What is currently being done to reverse the decline is quite educational, and hopefully these are steps that will allow the salmon to once more thrive rather than join the ranks of other migratory species that are extinct or near the brink of extinction.

All of this information may point to ‘eyes glazing over’ territory, but I found this to be an unfounded assumption. The author writes with an engaging style, mixing historical elements, biology and other easy to grasp scientific details, indigenous cultures and beliefs, economic facts, nature, and a splash of adventure. He vividly conveys the splendor of the landscape through which he travels, and one can easily see why Alaska is aptly named “The Last Frontier.” I’ve had the opportunity to travel through a portion of Alaska by train as well as along the coast by cruise ship and it is not to be missed! Nothing could compare to the way in which Weymouth ventured through this magnificent land though. Being able to speak to the people and truly experience the river and the vastness all around would be on a higher level altogether. I was pleased to be able to take this journey with him and learn so much about the King of Fish. I know I certainly will think much differently when I next sit down to a salmon dinner. Perhaps I will view it with a sense of reverence, much like the native people of Alaska. Highly recommended to those that enjoy engaging nature and animal writing, as well as environmental concerns.

"It is noble, doomed, regal, wild. An animal with an intimate connection to its homeland, and with the resilience and determination for great journeys; an animal that goes to embrace its death with the open arms of a Zen master."

[Jennifer ~ TarHeelReader · Rating 5 out of 5]

5 King Salmon stars to Kings of the Yukon! 🐟 🐟 🐟 🐟 🐟

We traveled to Alaska and the Yukon Territory on our honeymoon, and I must say, I have never seen anything more majestic, pristinely beautiful, and untouched, as the Yukon, its waters, the land, the mountains.

In Kings of the Yukon, Adam Weymouth weaves a tale of adventure, his own in fact, as he travels the Yukon River by canoe in order to study the migration patterns of the king salmon, also including the history of the fish.

But this book isn’t just about salmon...Weymouth shows the connection between the people of Alaska and fish by painting descriptive vignettes of the characters he meets along his journey.

I found the writing to be as stunning, intriguing, and pristine as the Yukon. Well-done, Adam Weymouth!

Thank you to Adam Weymouth, Little, Brown and Company, and Netgalley. Kings of the Yukon will be available on May 15, 2018.

My reviews can now also be found on my shiny new blog! www.jennifertarheelreader.com

[Dianne · Rating 5 out of 5]

Hey! This totally amazing book is on sale for $3.99 on Amazon for Kindle for a limited time. This is so good!

Absolutely stellar portrait of the remote north and the precipice on which it teeters. The heart of the novel is a 2000+ mile canoe trip undertaken by the author. Weymouth traverses the Yukon River, from Canada’s Yukon Territory, through Alaska, to the Bering Sea. His purpose is to trace the longest salmon run in the world during the four months the salmon migrate from the ocean back upriver to their spawning grounds. As he journeys through the vast and haunting wilderness, he weaves a spellbinding tale about the connection of the salmon to the people who live along the river.

A combination of travelogue, natural history, adventure and cautionary tale, I was absolutely “hooked” from the beginning (sorry, bad salmon pun). If you had told me my favorite book of the year would be a book about salmon, I would have laughed in your face.

Just stunning and worthy of all of the accolades. I can promise this will hold you spellbound and move you deeply. Loved it! ❤️🐟

[Paul Haspel · Rating 4 out of 5]

The king salmon, it is called in the United States of America; the chinook, in Canada. By any name, it is pre-eminent among the species of salmon that swim down the Yukon River as small fry, and then swim back up the river years later to spawn and die. Author Adam Weymouth undertook to honour the long journey of the chinook, and to chronicle the economic impact and cultural influence of the fish, by canoeing all the way down the Yukon - a travel adventure that he recalls in his 2018 book Kings of the Yukon.

Weymouth, a freelance journalist from London, is clearly taken with these fish, marveling that “They can distinguish a single drop from their home river among two million gallons of seawater” (p. 3). In his efforts to chronicle One Summer Paddling Across the Far North (the book’s subtitle), Weymouth takes pains to acquaint the reader with the fine points of salmon as a piscine family: “There are five species of Pacific salmon in North America: the chum, the coho, the sockeye, the pink, and the Chinook. Each has its own diminutive: the chum is the dog or the keta, the coho the silver, the sockeye the red, the pink the humpy, and the Chinook is the king” (p. 7).

I was also glad that Weymouth took such pains to explain the Yukon as a river system, as it was not familiar to me. As a helpful map near the beginning of the book makes clear, the Yukon River has its beginnings in the Yukon Territory of Canada; from its source, the Yukon flows north and west into the U.S. state of Alaska, before reaching its end at the Bering Sea.

Weymouth’s fascination with this great northern river is evident. He explains that “The Yukon River is the longest salmon run in the world. Where exactly the Yukon has its source will never be resolved, because there is no single answer, with countless tributaries rising across western Canada” (p. 8), and adds that “‘Yukon’ is a contraction of the Gwich’in phrase chu-u-ga-i-i-han, which translates as ‘river of white water’” (p. 33).

It has become almost a convention of travel writing that the travel writer not only records what they see that is new and different for them, but also describes how the experience of travel has changed them. Convention or no, Weymouth describes in an engaging manner how the experience of canoeing the Yukon changes his Londoner’s city perspective:

My awareness is changing. It is becoming increasingly easy to read shapes into the landscape, to see a pair of moose antlers in a distant piece of driftwood, or a man, waiting for me, in a stunted birch: with my mind left to wander, I am inventing curiosities, and I imagine that it will not be long before I start weaving them into stories. I am noticing irregularities, too, so that I am able to focus in on a fleck of white from half a mile away, and spot a bald eagle sitting motionless, scarcely aware how I have done it. I find that I can tell a species of tree by how it is moving in the wind, how the aspen leaves twinkle but the birch’s quiver. I have never noticed this before. It is the same with birdsong. I had always thought that learning birdsong was beyond my capabilities, but out here the songs are starting to stick: the dark-eyed junco, which sounds like a telephone ringing; the white-crowned sparrow; the raucous kingfisher. Despite my many years of city living, I think perhaps I might not be a lost cause after all. (p. 54)

Weymouth’s changing perspective also emerges in his reflections regarding hunter-gatherer cultures like those that he will encounter among the Indigenous people of both Yukon and Alaska – “There is a distinction to be made between nomadism and restlessness, and it is restlessness that drives one farther, beyond the lands one knows. It was city-dwellers who went to the moon” (p. 43). He seems to question the “restlessness” that has driven him through much of his life as a Londoner.

Once he has crossed the international border from Canada into the United States of America – proceeding into a stretch of the river where he will encounter individuals and communities more often – Weymouth seizes the opportunity to provide engaging items of historical trivia – “Alaska, from the ancient Aleut alaxsxaq, ‘the object toward which the action of the sea is directed’, or, in another translation, ‘the shore where the sea breaks its back’” (p. 55) – and to capture interesting elements of the state’s cultural life, as when he shares “a joke Alaskans like to tell” about Anchorage, the state’s largest city: “the good thing about Anchorage, they say, is that it’s only twenty minutes from Alaska” (p. 60).

With the Alaskan portion of the trip, Weymouth also starts to focus on the threats facing the salmon. As if their long, end-of-life spawning journey, across the wide sea and up a fast-flowing river, wasn’t tough enough, their populations have been decimated by overfishing and climate change. Across the American West, the numbers tell a sad and worrisome story: “In 1900, 45 million salmon swam up the rivers of Washington and Oregon and California. Today, that number is 2 million” (p. 110). Attempts to counter overfishing through “fish farming” have their own impact: “Up until the 1960’s, the salmon was an exclusively wild fish. Today, 70 percent of it is farmed” (p. 128).

Andy Bassich, an Alaska Fish & Game manager, tells Weymouth how deeply concerned he is about the impact of overfishing. “Andy believes that to redress the altered genetics of the run will take eight to ten cycles of fish – that is to say, at least fifty years” (p. 67). One also hears calls to make a ban on fishing for king salmon permanent.

Such proposals do not sit well with the Indigenous people of the region – people for whom the salmon exist as part of a cooperative cycle, giving themselves to be eaten by the people so that the people and the salmon can coexist on the land. When the taking of salmon is a sacred form of communion, then the visit of a young Ph.D.-wielding scientist from Vancouver or San Diego, with charts and graphs showing why a fishing embargo is necessary, is not likely to be helpful. A rather off-colour story shows how different the perspectives of scientists from the outside, on the one hand, and Indigenous people who are lifelong residents of the region, on the other:

I hear about a Yup’ik man down on the coast who harpooned a beluga and found three chum salmon in its stomach. This was unusual enough that he mentioned it to a biologist. But beluga don’t eat chum, said the biologist. Well, then, said the man, they must’ve had a real hard time swimming up his asshole. (p. 215)

At Fort Yukon, Weymouth witnesses the moment when Fish & Game announce that the king salmon season is on:

Everyone has heard Fish and Game’s announcement, and the place is absolutely buzzing….Skiffs are racing back and forth, or are aligned along the waterfront, Alwelds and Applebys and Wooldridges. Outboards cocked out of the water, Honda 90’s and Yamaha 4-stroke 115’s. Windshields made from ply and Perspex, or ripped from trucks, are bolted onto prows. Blistering paintwork, seats exploding foam, barge poles for the shallows. Men stand in small groups on the beach, talking fish and mesh. Someone is fixing a fish wheel to the back of a truck with a complicated web of ratchets and hitches. We watch as they haul it across the dirt, the men milling about and shouting, laughing, offering advice. It is the work of men who have never had to rely on other men for anything, men with the belief that any difficulty can and must be overcome by themselves alone, that there is no other help forthcoming. The wheel shivers about. They edge it down toward the water. There is a great cheer as it floats. (pp. 106-07)

Later in the trip, Weymouth recalls a visit he made to a salmon hatchery in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, before he began paddling his canoe down the Yukon River. One of the biologists working at the hatchery describes the team’s attempts to restock four creeks at the far end of the Chinook salmon’s range and says, “There is a holding capacity to every stream. That’s what humans haven’t really grasped. We just keep on expanding, chewing stuff up. These salmon can’t do that” (p. 149). When Weymouth assists with the fertilization process for a new group of salmon eggs, the same biologist adds, more jocosely, “You’re gonna be the dad of five thousand salmon….Better start shopping. Better get another job. Writing won’t support you now” (p. 151).

His visit to the fish camp of an Indigenous woman named Mary Dementieff shows how the complex array of rules and regulations governing when and how one can fish for salmon – rules and regulations crafted in far-away places like Juneau and Anchorage – affect people far away from where the rules are made. As she looks out at a river that once teemed with king salmon, Mary reflects that “She hadn’t even bothered fishing for kings this year, the regulations were so complicated. Do this, do that. By the time you got the net in, you had to get it out again. It’s so sad. There’s other fish, of course, and she should be grateful for that. But there’s nothing like a king. Everything changes” (p. 203).

Weymouth concludes Kings of the Yukon by suggesting that the prospect for the king salmon is not altogether bleak, that there is reason for hope:

Salmon can be brought back from the brink….[T]he future of the Yukon king does not seem hopeless…if reconciliation can be achieved. A reconciliation between commercial and subsistence, between those who live at the mouth and those who live at the source, between those who see their entitlement to food and wealth and culture swimming past them up the river, and those who want a conservative approach, if not an outright ban, forever. The life of a fish and a river, as I have learned, is astonishingly complex. (pp. 259-60)

I read Kings of the Yukon on a visit to Alaska and the Yukon Territory; and now that I have read it, I don’t think I’ll ever look at the salmon on the seafood counter at my local Giant Food store in Manassas, Virginia, quite the same way again. This book is a thoughtful look back at a thought-provoking river voyage.

[Jeanette · Rating 4 out of 5]

King Salmon of North American and Pacific Ocean Chinook history and lifespan tale told inside out and back to front. And also front to back again- or with the fingerlings going back downstream tail first.

Others have said it better and also more lyrically, it's good. It was an intense Alaskan read. I agree that there are more reality tv stars out of Alaska than anywhere else. And the differences of people and nature, are only a few of the reasons why that is so.

But to be honest, after 180 pages I got just a bit bogged down by the sadness and the preaching/ lecturing qualities coming across more than the finale they consistently dominated.

Worth the essence all the way though. 3.5 stars rounded up. And I think doing a majority of this solo was rather foolhardy, but also intrepid. Quite like the place and the "norms".

Loved the First People characters and the animals to a full 4 star. Or more.

Why no photos when he actually describes some of former seasons?

[Jenny (Reading Envy) · Rating 3 out of 5]

I squeezed in another book for my year of reading Canada and Alaska (and this book travels to both since the Yukon River extends through Alaska and Western Canada.) I was expecting more of a travel narrative about the author's canoe trip(s) up and down the Yukon River in 2016 and 2017, but this is almost exclusively about the king/Chinook salmon. It reminded me a lot of another book entirely about fish that I read, never expecting I'd read another: Cod by Mark Kurlansky.

To be fair, is there any other area so closely tied to a single species for its livelihood?

I felt the author was strongest in his reporting of facts (economics and trends of fish, history of fishing in the region and worldwide), not very good at describing the landscape, and started to make connections I wish he'd spent more time on (identity without fish, regulation as a form of cultural erasure, etc.) It is decent and current but not the best non-fiction Yukon account I read this year.

[Claire Fuller]

Beautiful nature writing about a canoe journey Weymouth takes down the two thousand miles of the Yukon from Canada into Alaska. It's a river that the King salmon migrate up to spawn, and as well as describing the scenery, Weymouth stops at various towns, villages and fishing camps along the way to meet people all of whom have an interest in the salmon and opinions on how much fishing should be allowed. There is no simple answer to this question of the salmon, and it was fascinating to gain a little understanding of the differing views which weren't always as expected. There were some sections where Weymouth tells the story from the point of view of someone he meets, and although this was also beautifully written, it made the non fiction / fiction boundary a little muddy for me. Recommended.

[Joy D · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book provides just about everything a person would want to know about the King Salmon (aka Chinook). In the process the author provides a history of their heyday and reasons behind their decline. In telling the story, Weymouth traveled two thousand miles by raft and canoe down the Yukon River, starting in Canada and continuing to Alaska where it empties into the Bering Sea. He speaks with First Nations people about the role these salmon play in their culture and traditions. The author seems to be a natural storyteller, his description of the journey kept my interest. He describes the villages, landscapes, people, and wide variety of wildlife he encounters. He weaves together personal stories of the people he meets and their relationship to the river. He includes historic vignettes of Alaska, the Last Frontier (or Seward’s Folly). He takes the reader back in time to the Gold Rush days. He relates stories of different types of salmon from other parts of the world. It is a fabulous combination of science, history, travel, and storytelling. I enjoyed it immensely.

[Elizabeth☮ · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book takes us on a journey up the Yukon River until it breaks into the ocean. Weymouth spent two seasons canoeing up the river. He speaks to native persons and locals and people in the fishing industry to gain a better understanding of what is happening to the biggest salmon in the river, the King.

We get a good handle of the indigenous cultures and how the government has done wrong by them (no surprise there). We also get a better understanding of the effects of over fishing. There are also many detailed descriptions of the environment and the unique character it takes to live in such an unforgiving terrain.

All in all, I enjoyed the journey down the river and all of the moments Weymouth shares with us. If you are concerned about the environment and the state of our animals, I would highly recommend this one.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

There are very few areas left in the world that haven't had some interference from mankind, but one of the true wilderness areas left is in Alaska. It is through this part of Canada and America that the Yukon River snakes its way to the coast and it is this 2000 mile river that Adam Weymouth is intending to canoe along. Even this remote wilderness is showing the signs of climate change and the results of our ruining the planet.

Weymouth is also there to track the King salmon, or chinook as they are known in Canada, as they head upstream from the Bearing Sea to carry out their last act before dying; spawning. They have been away in the Pacific and no one knows exactly where they go, or indeed how they find their way back to the same river and the exact pool where they were spawned themselves. When they have committed this last act, they die. The return of the salmon brought food for the various predators and economic activity along the river for the people that choose to live in this part of the world. However the thousands and thousands of salmon that used to almost clog the river up in their desire to reproduce are no longer there, changes wrought by us and climate change hade decimated the populations.

His account of his four-month journey was in reality split over two years as the river was impossible to canoe down during the winter. That doesn't lessen his desire to find the people with the stories to tell, and what stories they are. This part of the world attracts those that wanted to drop out of normal society. He meets the indigenous people too who have relied on the king salmon as an intrinsic part of their culture for thousands of years and who until recently have only lightly touched the earth. Weymouth takes time to talk to those he meets, tease out the stories and understand the shocking effects we have been causing on this otherwise unspoilt wilderness and the way that people who have depended on this natural resource are trying to change to reverse some of the changes. For a debut travel writer,  he is pretty accomplished. This is a really enjoyable travel book with a sharp focus and I am looking forward to reading what he does next.

[Mike · Rating 5 out of 5]

I just won a giveaway for this book! Yay! I'm so excited to read this one. Sounds like it will be a book I'll really enjoy. Review coming ASAP!

Update: just received my goodreads giveaway copy in the mail! Hopefully review coming soon.

Well, I finally finished this book and can happily say that I loved it!
a beautiful mixture of nature, adventure, history, natural science, sociology and politics. The author shows how all of these things are intertwined with the history of the Chinook and has clearly done some extensive research. I found the book to be very informative and interesting while still providing that rustic, out in the woods, river voyage adventure feeling that I was so hoping for.

I'm honestly putting this book right up there beside Walden as my favourite nature (but this book is so much more) related book of all time.

[Rebecca · Rating 4 out of 5]

Alaska is a place that attracts outsiders and nonconformists. During the summer of 2016, Weymouth undertook a voyage by canoe down the nearly 2,000 miles of the Yukon River – the same epic journey made by king/Chinook salmon. He camps alongside the river bank in a tent, often with his partner, Ulli. He also visits a fish farm, meets reality TV stars and native Yup’ik people, and eats plenty of salmon. “I do occasionally consider the ethics of investigating a fish’s decline whilst stuffing my face with it.” Charting the effects of climate change without forcing the issue, he paints a somewhat bleak picture. But his descriptive writing is so lyrical, and his scenes and dialogue so natural, that he kept me eagerly riding along in the canoe with him.

[JMM · Rating 5 out of 5]

Author Adam Weymouth paddled thousands of miles in a four-month journey down the Yukon River in an effort to puzzle out the status and patterns of the king salmon migration. Here, he offers a fascinating account of his experiences, of the life cycle and current state of these magnificent creatures, of the people who have historically fished for them, and of the agencies that study and manage them. This is a thoughtful and powerful book, one that presents the complex forces and issues of this country clearly while bringing the people and the animals of the North to life for the reader. Look forward to reading this one on its publication date of May 15, 2018.

[Victoria (Eve's Alexandria) · Rating 5 out of 5]

It took me half a year to read this, reading in short fierce intense bursts, but I was determined to finish it before the end of 2019, so that I could claim it as one of my best books of the year.

It’s an extraordinary bit of writing - Weymouth works in a startling and ingenious prose, especially when he’s writing about the natural world - which is often breathtaking and always interesting. He’s a sharp eyed observer of human nature, a collector of people, experiences and places of the first order. As he canoes the 2000 miles down the Yukon, from source to sea, he covers a vast thematic as well as geographic territory. The king salmon, which swims up river in its annual pilgrimage at the same time as Weymouth paddles down it, provides an opportunity to reflect on environmentalism, capitalism, sustainability, indigenous rights, patriotism and family.

It’s a brilliant, brilliant book and, whatever your level of interest in salmon (mine being relatively low), you should read it.

[Danny Jacobs · Rating 4 out of 5]

Een aangrijpend non-fictie boek uit het laatste Wilde westen van het noordelijk halfrond, Alaska en Canada. De auteur, Adam Weymouth, volgde maandenlang met zijn kano het duizenden kilometers lange spoor van de zalm over de rivier de Yukon, van de bron tot aan de zee, om een wereld vast te leggen die op het punt staat te verdwijnen, een wereld van mensen en vissen die leven dit het laatste restje wildernis. De zalm kent een uitzonderlijke en fascinerende levenswandel: hij verlaat het zoete water om duizenden kilometers naar open zee af te leggen, en daarna terug te keren naar zijn geboortewateren. Maar het bestaan van de zalm en van de mensen die generaties lang van de vis hebben geleefd staat onder druk. Klimaatverandering, overbevissing en industrialisering eisen hun tol.

[Booknblues · Rating 4 out of 5]

Those who are familiar with my reading are aware that I am concerned about the environment and the impact of climate change and that I love a slow travel book. When these subjects can be combined as Adam Weymouth's book Kings of the Yukon: One Summer Paddling Across the Far North, I am delighted.

Weymouth traveled down the Yukon River by canoe following the journey of a King Salmon and stopping by indigenous communities to understand their position on fishing, the decline in numbers of King Salmon and how salmon impacted their lives.

He begins his journey on the Nisutlin, a tributary of the Yukon with traveling mate Hector MacKenzie who will raft with him down through a very trying rapids to get to the Yukon. Weymouth was not a skilled rafter or canoeist as he says " I have spent perhaps a week in a canoe, on British rivers that look, to Canadian eyes, like trickles—the Medway, the Dart, the Wye."

He was lucky enough to spot a fingerling when camping at the start of the journey.
I am scrubbing porridge from out the pot when I see the dart of little fish emerging from the shadows, pecking at the oats. And I gasp because it was as easy as that to find them. They are exactly where they were supposed to be. These are king salmon, a few months old, the first I have ever seen. I watch them as they feed on our breakfast.

As he travels we encounter many animals and meet people in the community who have had life experiences with salmon. Weymouth is greatly impressed by the generosity of the people he meets.

I found myself, loving this journey and the way in which Weymouth told it by giving information about the flora and fauna, the salmon and the people along the Yukon. I appreciated that he didn't get in his own head too much the way some travel writers do but really provided insight and understanding to the land, people and animals he encountered.

My one tiny quibble is I wish that he provided chapters in the book to break it down a bit. I found that it jumped a bit without my being prepared for it.

Overall it is an excellent book and I'm looking forward to reading another by him. I believe he has Lone Wolf: Walking the Line Between Civilization and Wildness which has just been released.

[Paul · Rating 5 out of 5]

The travelogue is a type of writing that attracts the fellow adventurer and the envious spectator. My hope is that this book will create awareness of this cause and commit both parties to action. Kings of the Yukon serves as a homage to the animals, the people, the land, and the journey. The paddle is the only way this story could have been written. Excellent job Mr. Weymouth.

Thank you to NetGalley, Little, Brown, and Co., and Adam Weymouth for the advanced copy for review.

Full review can be found here: https://paulspicks.blog/2018/05/03/ki...

Please check out all my reviews: https://paulspicks.blog

[Donna · Rating 5 out of 5]

Visited Alaska and the Yukon last summer. To be able to read about the places that we visited was a delightful experience, able to remember the scenery and people who make their homes along the Yukon. If you are planning a trip, read the book as you travel, you won't regret it. Well written book.

[Shannon · Rating 3 out of 5]

This was such a unique and moving read. Kings of the Yukon is part travel memoir, part ecological reflection, and part quiet meditation on the passage of time—all set against the backdrop of one of North America’s most storied rivers. Adam Weymouth’s writing really transported me; I felt like I was paddling right alongside him through the Yukon, watching the landscape shift and listening to the stories of the people who still live along the river today.

At the heart of the journey is the Chinook salmon, whose epic migration mirrors so many of the book’s deeper themes—endurance, change, and connection to place. I learned so much about the salmon’s life cycle, the cultural importance they hold, and the environmental challenges they face.

This is definitely one of those books that makes you reflect on the wild world and how we interact with it. Quietly powerful, beautifully written, and full of heart.

[Federico · Rating 3 out of 5]

Quite interesting but enough about salmons for me

[Irene Bn · Rating 4 out of 5]

Belle lecture, j'ai aimé le style documentaire de l'auteur, le mélange entre récit de voyage très descriptif et les parties informatives sur les saumons et les lieux visités. J'en lirais d'autres du même auteur.

[Stef Mell · Rating 4 out of 5]

4.5!

[Michael Gray · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love a bit of travel writing. Learned a lot about the Yukon, and salmon (didn't realise the book was about salmon until I started it, turns out Kings are salmon).

[Vera · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is such a beautiful read. Both travel writing and an exploration of the relationship between fish and man, oddly enough both aspects just as captivating. I was very fond of reading about all the people Adam meets on his trip, their habits, their ways and traditions - it's also a very sensual account, whereby you can almost smell the fish and feel the wind and taste the clear water. Just beautiful.

There is the odd trail-off into imagined (or are they real?) scenarios which to me felt a little odd and out of place (even switching narrators) and I would have liked a bit more of the conversations that took place. But that doesn't make the book any less enjoyable, and I would recommend it to anyone!

[Sondra Brooks · Rating 4 out of 5]

I mistakenly thought this was a memoir about a canoe ride up the Yukon. Since I love adventure stories, it seemed a perfect choice for me. Little did I know, I would learn more about King Salmon than I ever thought possible. I was pleasantly surprised, however, with the author's beautifully descriptive voice, and I felt I was right there with him in that canoe. His writing about the plight of the salmon could have stood alone as an interesting nonfiction in its own right, but what really kept me interested were the accounts of the people he met along the way. Not a boring life story in the entire bunch. And just when I thought I had learned enough about salmon to last me a lifetime, I found myself tearing up at the end of the book. The ending really drove home what these poor creatures are up against, as well as so much of the natural world, which is obviously under assault by humans.

[Adam · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is a book that's mainly about salmon, and the fate of the cultures that traditionally depended on the salmon runs in and around the Yukon river. But it took me a while to realize that. At first I thought it was about a canoe trip, but I really didn't get much of a sense of what it was like to paddle for hundreds of miles through a largely unpopulated and more-or-less pristine landscape. I don't think Adam Weymouth succeeds as a nature or adventure writer. His work comes more to life when he meets characters on land, but even then it's a bit confusing and a little haphazard. I got the feeling that he was trying to figure it all out as he went. He writes well, mostly, but sometimes it seems more like an intellectual exercise than an actual attempt to convey a feeling. It left me with a feeling of sadness for what appeared to be a devastated landscape. That's certainly the case when it comes to the decline of the king salmon themselves, and the indigenous groups who used to depend on them. But is that really what the author was going for? Nothing about the beauty and grandeur of nature in one of the last unspoiled wildernesses of the world? Maybe it's English understatement, or maybe it's me, but I would expect a bit more exhilaration and exuberance from such a spectacular journey.

[Alicia Damitsch · Rating 3 out of 5]

So, I read a book about fish. It's not the book's fault that I don't really care about salmon, that's why I give 3 instead of 2 stars. I actually learned some pretty interesting fish facts.
But I expected the story of a fascinating journey of a fascinating person. Sadly, I didn't get to know the author at all. He tells the reader nothing about his emotions, what happens to one if one spends hundreds of hours on a river, the lessons one learns, the fears one has. It is highly describtive and not at all evaluative or emotionally loaded. I didn't want to read a rational newspaper report, I wanted to read a memoir.
I normally would have loved the stories about all the interesting people the author meets on the journey. But if those stories are told by a stranger, you cannot really enjoy them.

[Literary Redhead · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was enthralled by the grand adventure described in “Kings of the Yukon: One Summer Paddling Across the Far North.”

Solo adventurer Adam Weymouth thrills us with his poetic narrative of journeying by canoe across Alaska along the entire 2,000-mile Yukon river, where he follows the migration of king salmon over a four-month period.

The author also reveals the connection of people and fish through moving portraits of the individuals he encounters, giving us a powerful look into indigenous cultures in this riveting account of one of the last wild places on earth. Highly recommended!

Pub Date 15 May 2018

Thanks to Little, Brown and Company and NetGalley for the review copy. Opinions are fully mine.

#KingsOfTheYukon #NetGalley

[Ryan · Rating 5 out of 5]

Amazing descriptions of Alaskan/Yukon Territory landscapes, Native ways of life, Western-Native interactions, commercial fishing processes, and how all these things affect the life cycle and future viability of King salmon populations. In turn, effects on the salmon disturb traditional and modern ways of life throughout the Yukon watershed.