A community copes with record low salmon returns

In the southwest corner of British Columbia the Lower Fraser River flows from a canyon in Hope. The river runs along rich floodplains, through metro Vancouver, and, ultimately, into the Salish Sea.

Brian Grandbois is a Stó:lō elder. Canada’s coastal first nations have relied on the salmon of the Fraser River for more than 10,000 years, but the fish and indigenous sovereignty are now threatened.

Vancouver’s skyline reflects through the glass windows of a processing room at Canfisco cannery. Canneries once dominated the industry in the Vancouver metro area, with wild salmon accounting for around 60 percent of fishery profits. Salmon now account for closer to 20 percent, according to one Canfisco VP. Since then, companies like Canfisco have had to shift to multi-seasonal products like crab, halibut, groundfish and smoked varieties.

A man sells salmon at the Granville Island Public Market in Vancouver. In 2014, commercial salmon fisheries in B.C. accounted just $74 million in revenue, compared to more than $250 million in the mid 1980’s. Despite the drop in abundance, salmon remain a crucial part of the local economy.

A fisherman casts his line at Wellington Point Park in suburban Vancouver. Recreational fishing in the main stem and throughout tributaries of the Lower Fraser is also a significant industry in the region.

Indigenous children play along the Tsawwassen shoreline of the delta at the mouth of the Fraser with the Tsawwassen Ferry Terminal looming in the background. Shrinking habitat due to industrial development is the biggest threat to salmon survival.

Misty MacDuffee, a biologist with the Raincoast Conservation Foundation, holds up a juvenile chum salmon caught during a seining session in the marsh on the south side of Westham Island. The conservation organization is tracking the numbers and health of fry and smolts in the delta.

Charlie Clark (left), an intern with Raincoast Conservation Foundation, uses a sein net in a marsh to capture juvenile salmon in a marsh as part of the group’s Fraser Estuary Juvenile Salmon Project.

Steve Stark, a member of the Tsawwassen First Nation, says 20 years ago salmon nets used to be full, but now his small fleet of fishing boats targets mostly crab. Stark guides scientists on seining and data collection missions.

Officers (left to right) Raquel Crosier, Ralph Downes and Taylor Kimball of the Washington State Department of Fish and Wildlife patrol for illegal fishing. Commercial fishermen often say catch limits are too restrictive, and that too many fish have been allocated for the First Nations. But declining populations of salmon have put the First Nations communities further upstream in a difficult position. The risk of arrest to catch a ceremonial fish has caused deep-seated distrust of many officials.

For the past three years, First Nations communities and their supporters across British Columbia have worked to educate residents of the area on the challenges of restoring wild salmon in the Fraser Basin and Salish Sea corridor. The group has traveled caravan-style along the length of the river, performing ancient song, dance and salmon ceremonies.

Audrey Siegl looks out across the water in on the shores of Crab Park, Vancouver, commercial docks at her back. Siegl joined the caravan as a member of the Musqueam First Nation.