Sink or Swim

The nature of salmon recovery spans regions, cultures, geographies, and lifestyles. Because of this diversity of interests, efforts to restore salmon have become significantly disseminated. Small organizations and site-specific interest groups sprout up when existing organizations fail to align agendas, meet requests, or expand the scope of their projects. Unwilling to give up on the mission, energies are cleaved to form an organization in order to address the specific goals that were previously unattended.

At the agency level, workgroups are delegated to focus on particular issues affiliated with salmon restoration. Since taxpayer money is funding these types of restoration projects, advisory committees are formed for each region and/or project to ensure that the funding is being effectively utilized. It is common for each watershed to have their own council and some even have satellite organizations that while still associated, work on recovery issues in adjacent communities. Spanning the Pacific Northwest, there are thousands of NGO’s, community groups, industries, and governmental organizations working on one specific goal, salmon recovery, but do it in a way that fulfills a specific niche.

This diverse approach to salmon restoration can be beneficial by allowing each community to address and design projects to best fit their restoration needs. However, this has created a vast network of efforts that are detached from one another. Adding to this fragmentation is the competitive nature of applying for federal and private funding on which many organizations rely. As a result, communication and collaboration between groups hardly exists in most regions.

Maintaining status quo at this point is proving to be ineffective on the larger scale as the salmon populations continue to decline and the movement struggles to gain a political foothold. In order to truly create a strong and vibrant movement, organizations need to find a way to unite. This collaborative process can help eliminate redundant and overlapping projects which will then free up resources that can be redirected to areas of need. Personal agendas and small town politics inherent in this effort need to be reminded of the fundamental goal to restore salmon to our waterways. Organizations need to take the initiative to reach out to one another and start brainstorming ways to communicate, share ideas, and work together.

The timing is critical and the work is unprecedented to unify such an expansive and divergent movement, but the longer we wait the more we will lose. Uniting these energies will be advantageous by creating a lean, streamline, and efficient movement mimicking the very nature of the species it is fighting for.

Journey within a Journey

With kayaks weighed down with 5 weeks of food and gear, 13 of us set off to study ecology and policy of the Tongass National Forest in Southeast Alaska. One of our stops was Anan Bear Observatory operated by the U.S. Forest Service. It is accessible only by boat or float plane and requires very limited, difficult to get permits. The focal point is Anan Creek that supports the largest run of pink salmon in Southeast Alaska. It is estimated that 300,000 fish make their way up the creek to spawn and die from late June through September. And, where salmon are found, so are the bear that feed on them. Black and brown (brownies aka grizzles) in close proximity to each other with cubs, feeding on an endless bounty. This is the vantage of the observatory as we watched quietly with amazement.

The pink salmon that run here are also called Humpbacks or “Humpies” because of the pronounced hump that the males develop on their back after they begin spawning. They can weigh up to 12 pounds but more commonly weigh 3 to 5 pounds at maturity, and their two-year life cycle is the shortest of all the salmon species. Because they return to spawn after approximately 18 months at sea, each year’s pink salmon never mix with another’s, so runs in odd and even numbered years become genetically isolated and radically different in size.

Anan Creek is also an area of rich history. The Stikine Tlingit clans had summer fish camps here and used Anan Creek’s large salmon spawning run to catch and preserve salmon for their winter food supply. Anan was unique because the large amount of salmon available made it possible to have several clans sharing one fish camp.
The abundance of salmon also drew non-native people to Anan Creek. In 1901, Pilot Fish Packing Company set up a large fish trap at Anan that allowed few fish to make it up the creek. This lack of escapement was very destructive to the Anan salmon population. Commercial fish traps were outlawed shortly after Alaska became a state in 1959.

I was conflicted as I intruded into the Anan Creek ecosystem where I as a human, did not participate and only benefited anthropocentrically. However, it was there that I found a greater reverence for wilderness and an obligation to protect it. I had journeyed to Anan to observe the bear and I departed with a greater understanding of the complexity of nature that will always remain with me. Simply put, without salmon there will be no bear. Perhaps this was the inception of my personal responsibility for there to be a future for salmon.

Restructure our Structure

Change doesn’t come easy. I am starting to have a better understanding of this mantra as I look back on the historic efforts to preserve the salmon and their habitat. As the salmon population continues to decline and the environmental problems become seemingly more insurmountable, I am challenged by this track record.

This past week I have been brainstorming ways to engage various stakeholders, especially community members to create a more comprehensive and collaborative salmon recovery strategy. Through this process, it has occurred to me that our voices are mainly heard through agencies and organizations. Think about it, if you were interested in becoming involved or even voicing your opinion about something in which you feel passionately, you would either find a local organization to give money or volunteer time, contact a governmental agency to explain your position, or start your own movement. But what if you lived in area where such organization don’t exist, or time and money is not something you have to give, or you lack the resources to start your own organization? In fact, what if you don’t even have easy access to the internet to seek further information? Often these people are left behind and their voices and opinions are neglected.

Furthermore, organizations can often burn through volunteers because they are set up in a way that provides little to no return on investments made. Many organizations have agendas that shape the development of projects and the role of the volunteer then, most likely, becomes the implementation of such projects. Unless they are on the Board of Directors or the steering committee, volunteers have little to no say in the developmental process. It seems that some organizations, while trying to serve from the bottom up still employ the top down strategy.

Unfortunately time is becoming an increasingly important factor in solving our environmental problems, yet our ways of creating change seem slow and antiquated. Are we being constrained by our existing models of collaboration? Are our organizational models even set up to effectively serve all constituents? I think it is time to challenge our rules of engagement and our methods of organization to finds ways we can mobilize people faster, more efficiently, farther reaching, and on a broader more inclusive level.

If you would have told me that I would be spending time in graduate school investigating how to connect people interested in salmon recovery through internet tools like Twitter and blogging, I would have turned my nose up at you. In fact, I couldn’t even figure out how to post to this blog until today. You might be thinking that things aren’t really looking good for me considering I don’t even have a Facebook account and this is my first blog entry EVER (note the year). But alas, here I am wondering how to share information, tools, and ideas across regions, groups and cultures in order to build more a collaborative and cohesive strategy to restore wild salmon.

Needless to say, this seems like a daunting task and I am often wondering if it is even possible to bring such diverse interest groups together through something as abstract as the internet. This is definitely the road less traveled. However, the more I talk about it with people, the more momentum the idea gains and the more connections I make. Two months ago, I crossed paths with a woman who implements Kitsap County’s salmon restoration program and is a strong champion for strengthening the dialogue among salmon recovery participants. Just yesterday I was talking with one of the regulars at the coffee shop in which I work. She has been coming in before I started working there nine months ago, but never had I known what she did for a living. Turns out she works with social media to bring together communities around ideas or businesses and is interested in helping me get started using WordPress, anyone familiar?

So the lesson this week is a reiteration of the importance of community, whether it is on the internet or in the corner coffee shop. Often our best resources are right in front of us. I find comfort in the thought that even if my idea for an online dialogue centered on salmon restoration flops, I have built invaluable relationships with people I may never have otherwise.

More on the history of salmon restoration next time…

The End of the Line: A Paradox Within

After posting my accolades of the film screening, I had to take some time to reflect upon the panel discussion that followed. Index cards were circulated for the audience to write questions for the panelists. My question was: "Of the remaining fish (in the oceans), most are contaminated with PCB's, PAH's, dioxins and mercury. Why were toxics not mentioned in the film?"

The moderator, affiliated with the Seattle Chefs Collaborative, the Columbia Inter-Tribal Fish Commission and Marine Stewardship Council, read the question but omitted reading "PAH's".

(Polycyclic aromatic hydrocarbons, known for carcinogenic and mutagenic actions, significant in benthic fishes (i.e. sole and flounder) as well as transient salmon species in the Puget Sound.) This is supported by much scientific data and is deemed an ecological risk.

Once the "edited" version of my question was read, it was obviously a "hot potato" that no one was eager to address. One panelist, a fisherman, influential in the Food and Beverage industry to improve seafood quality and spearheaded the marketing of Copper River and Yukon River salmon, stated "recent testing had been conducted on Yukon River salmon and there was no contamination of mercury found". That was the entirety of his response.

Another panelist, representative of the Living Oceans Society in B.C. with a specialty in open net-cage aquaculture in promotion of sustainable seafood replied, "to avoid mercury, eat lower on the food chain...PCB's are found mostly in farmed fish due to a higher fat content". The two other panelists did not respond. One was a writer for Edible Seattle, chef and founder of Seasonal Cornucopia, and the other, an author, sustainable sushi guide, restaurateur and seafood advocate affiliated with Greenpeace.

That was it, end of discussion on toxics in seafood! My reaction was of disbelief that this question could be so readily be dismissed. While infuriated, I put my Antioch cap on to reflect on why there was a lack of response to an issue that is so grossly connected to seafood sustainability.

In conclusion, I believe my question was beyond the scope of the panelists knowledge base. And, if it was not, it undermined the industry that they served. It was a paradox for them, as an acknowledgement of toxics in the sustainable seafood they promote and serve is to reveal a contradiction in their livelihood. Bottomline: Everyone has an agenda in which too much information can become inconvenient.

The End of the Line Where have all the fish gone?

I attended the screening of this film last night that was followed by a panelist discussion. The production itself was informative, terrifying, disturbing and yet presented beauty and hope, - if we will it. The film presents a worldview of the plight marine life, documenting the procession of the denuding of the oceans for profit. Massive technological machines have declared war on the seas in which its inhabitants have no defense. The mission is to subvert for economic gain and it is escalating, seemingly immune to laws, regulations, policing and human consciousness. Viewers witness the slaughter of marine life that is barbaric and inconceivable. All the while avant-garde sushi restaurants flourish serving “designer” seafood to the wealthy, proudly labeling their delights as an endangered species despite the knowledge that the poor can no longer sustain themselves on the aquatic remnants left to them.

Anyone with an appreciation for life and the future of humanity will be changed after viewing this film. Whether one is a consumer of seafood or not, the ecological web of the oceans is the keystone to our existence on this planet. It is our responsibility to be stewards of our home and to demand that only sustainable seafood be sold and consumed. Ethical consumerism is a power we all have that can influence the demand on supply. Become educated in what you chose to eat. Question the source. Demand the truth.