My Story of Salmon
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For many years, part of our fall preparation has been getting salmon. We didn’t have a fish wheel or use nets ourselves, instead we’d contact either Gopher down in Nenana or Greg Taylor in Fairbanks, get on the list, and load the bed of the pickup with chum salmon for $1.00 a fish. In the earlier years, I remember males might even be just .75/fish while females with eggs were closer to $1.00. And these were no small fish. These were monster salmon, full of good nutrients and sliminess, just the way the dogs liked ‘em. We used the salmon to flavor morning broths or for snacks on the trail or for the dog named Fish when she was being picky, who ironically greatly preferred salmon to all other food. Salmon wasn’t necessarily the main part of our dogs’ diet, but it was an important component. Especially when the temperatures are warm (say 20-40F) the dogs prefer lean meats like salmon over fattier foods.
I first really noticed last year, that the salmon were hard to come by. I’d heard for years that salmon numbers (normally in the context of King salmon) were doing strange things, but when fall time came around, I could always find a cheap truck load of chum salmon for the dogs. But last year was different. The chum run on the Yukon was very low. We wouldn’t be getting any salmon from the Tanana River, which is a tributary of the mighty Yukon. Friends in Eagle who live on the Yukon and feed their dog team primarily with salmon were in a sticky situation. Go Fund Me’s were set up to pay for dog food and have it shipped out to dog teams in the “Bush,” meaning off the road system. Cody and Paige of Squid Acres Kennel hooked me up with a fisherman out of Valdez, and we purchased Coho salmon at about $4/salmon. Everyone said, oh it’s just a strange year. There are booms and declines to all cycles. The salmon will bounce back on the Yukon.
Well, now it’s 2021, and the summer and fall chum salmon runs in the Yukon were abysmal. Ready for some numbers?
At the Pilot Station Sonar there are two runs each year: summer and fall (on the Yukon River). Take note of the changes in summer runs from year to year as well as the fall runs from year to year:
2016- 1,921,748 summer chum; 994.760 fall chum
2017- 3,093,735 summer chum; 1,829,931 fall chum
2018- 1,612,688 summer chum; 928,664 fall chum
2019- 1,402,925 summer chum; 842,041 fall chum
2020- 692,602 summer chum; 262,439 fall chum
2021- 153,497 low summer RECORD LOW; 146,172 fall chum RECORD LOW
For many mushers in the Bush, salmon is the main part of their dogs’ diet. And even more importantly, it’s a large part of their diet. Since we live in Two Rivers, which is essentially a suburb of Fairbanks, we have access to all the big box stores, tons of dog food, and other town amenities. For folks off the road system, their stories of salmon are much more dire than mine. For me, it’s more of an inconvenience, a canary in a coal mine. But for the people and dog teams on the Yukon River, it’s like they’re in the coal mine. And the salmon that makes up a huge part of their culture and way of life is disappearing before our very eyes.
Not only were the chum and king salmon runs in the Yukon record-setting lows, but the coho runs near Valdez were also abysmal this year. The fisherman who was going to supply us with a couple hundred Coho’s was unable to fill our order, and he’s as baffled as we are. So as it currently stands, we have no fish for the dogs this winter.
Now I’m no biologist. I have no idea why this is happening. I’m under the impression that biologists don’t even know why. Climate change? Trawlers? Bycatch? Normal patterns? Whatever the reason, it’s scary and should be talked about, debated, and researched. Things are changing. And while my story of salmon isn’t the most dire situation in the world (I can just buy dog food for my team), for many, their salmon stories are dire. What will become of their way of life?
In an effort to not end on such a depressing note, I’ll share some of my favorite salmon memories (photos).
Dipnetting for Red Salmon with Cartel at Chitina in the Copper River
Catching my first (and biggest) King Salmon with the help of Allen Moore
Moving the Hall’s fish wheel on the Yukon River near Eagle, Alaska
Feel free to peruse escapement data: https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=commercialbyareayukon.salmon_escapement
Or if you’re interested, here’s some more great info about the salmon in general.
For those who don’t know a salmon’s life cycle or the different kinds in Alaska, I’m going to copy and paste some info from an Alaska Department of Fish and Game webpage https://www.adfg.alaska.gov/index.cfm?adfg=wildlifenews.view_article&articles_id=714:
“There’s an easy way to remember the names of each of Alaska’s five different species of Pacific salmon. It’s a method we often use when educating young kids about the different species and the salmon lifecycle. And it works.
We ask kids to hold one hand up and spread their fingers. We motion to the thumb and say, “Thumb rhymes with chum.” Then we ask them to use their pointer finger and point to their eye. “Point to your eye. Eye rhymes with sockeye.” The middle finger is the largest finger on the hand and, while there’s no catchy rhyme to remember, we say the largest of all of Alaska’s salmon is the king. Then we look at the ring finger and ask, “What color rings to some people wear?” Gold? No. What’s another color? Silver. Yes. The fourth species is a silver. And last but not least, there’s the pinky finger. Easy enough to remember that the fifth species of Alaska’s Pacific salmon is the pink.
Being able to name the five different species and knowing how to correctly identify all five is a little bit more complicated. And understanding how to tell an adult pink from a chum or a king from a coho begins with the salmon lifecycle.
A brief overview of the lifecycle of Pacific salmon
All of Alaska’s salmon begin their life as a fertilized egg in freshwater. Depending on the species and water temperature, the eggs incubate for a given length of time in the safety of the gravel in a river or lake. As the salmon develops within the egg, it undergoes certain physical changes like the development of eyes, a spine and a tail. Eventually, the egg will hatch, leading to the next life stage called the alevin. Alevin are small and can be identified by the large orange yolk sac attached to the body. Alevin remain in the gravel, protected from predators and receive nutrients from the yolk sac. At this stage, small tails are present. As the alevin grows, the nutrients in the yolk sac are depleted and the salmon begins to develop mouth parts, as well as small, ovular shapes along each side of its body. This is the point when the fish begins to leave the shelter of the gravel bed and swim around in search of food. This stage is called the fry stage.
Most, but not all, salmon fry have parr marks along each side of their body. Pink salmon fry do not have parr marks. Parr marks act as camouflage, protecting the juvenile salmon from predation. While fry are strong swimmers, they will seek out refuge in slower-moving water where they are protected from predators and where they can find food such as insect larvae and plankton.
Each species of salmon fry will remain in freshwater for a determined length of time. Some, like sockeye and silver salmon, will stay in freshwater for a year or two. Others, like pink and chum salmon migrate to sea soon after emergence. King (or Chinook) fry typically remain in freshwater for approximately a year.
As the salmon fry prepare to migrate to sea, they lose their parr marks and enter the next stage of their life, which is the smolt stage. Smolt vary in size by species and normally rear in brackish water where the sea meets freshwater. Smolt grow rapidly and when the salmon reaches a certain size, it will begin its open-ocean migration, and thus enter the adult stage of its life.
Adult salmon will remain in the ocean feeding for a given length of time depending on the species. Kings can stay in saltwater for up to 6 years, while pink salmon are on a two-year cycle, meaning they return to spawn in freshwater as two-year-old fish.
Upon returning to freshwater from the sea, salmon undergo significant physical changes. Some, like sockeye, kings and silvers develop a deep maroon or red coloration. In Southeast Alaska, spawning king salmon are more of a dark brown or blackish color. Chum salmon develop calico bands along each side of their body. Males of each species develop large, hooked jaws, called “kypes.” In addition to developing a kype, male pink and sockeye salmon develop pronounced humps on their back. Consequently, pink salmon are often referred to as “humpys.”
Salmon returning to freshwater to spawn are called “spawners,” which is the next stage of their life. Pacific salmon spawn in the stream or lake they were born in; some spawn in almost the same location where they emerged from their egg. Each species enters freshwater at different times of the year. In many river systems, kings are the first species to return, followed by sockeye, pinks, chums and lastly silvers. Like most naturally occurring events in nature, Pacific salmon run timing isn’t always consistent year-to-year, and pinpointing the day or week of any given month when a particular species of salmon will appear in freshwater is speculative at best.
In their natal stream, salmon begin the migration upriver to reach their spawning ground. The length a salmon will travel to reach the spawning grounds varies by river and by species. There are chum salmon in the Yukon River in Alaska that migrate well over 2,000 miles to reach their spawning grounds.
Once the salmon has reached its spawning grounds, the female and male pair up. The female digs a bed in the gravel called a “redd.” This is where she will deposit her eggs as the male fertilizes them with his milt. After spawning, all species of Pacific salmon die, completing their lifecycle.
