That’s big news for someone who grew up on the banks of the Columbia River. By moving forward with the Columbia Basin Restoration Initiative (CBRI), we finally have a comprehensive roadmap to rebuild imperiled fish populations, honor Tribal treaty rights, and restore healthy ecosystems. We are now one step closer to a future where abundant salmon populations and energy can coexist.
Salmon have defined my connection to the Northwest. Yet, across the decades, I’ve come to know an uncomfortable truth. Salmon, steelhead and other native fish species of the Columbia River Basin have been going extinct my whole life. Now, as a father with my own children, my work focused on recovering these fish, a national treasure, is more meaningful than ever.

Why the urgency? We’ve just witnessed the hottest decade on record. The shift in our climate is real: for wildlife, for people, and for our hydroelectric system. Our snowpack is diminishing, our forests are burning, and our rivers are running dry. This begs another question: How do we continue to power the Northwest with hydro? The short answer is that we can’t. We’ll see a large increase in summer peaks as climate change drives people to turn up the AC and when river flows are at their lowest. And the shifts in rainfall and snow pack are pushing river flows even lower, draining the power from the regional energy system.
With summers to become our fastest-growing reliability stress period, we must keep in mind that the Northwest is expected to see an increase of electricity demand—about 50% more by 2050 as we electrify transportation and buildings. Dams will not be able to increase their generation much, if at all, to meet this demand. How long will it be before they fail the stress periods?
While dams have powered our success in the Northwest across the decades, we need to rethink our relationship with hydroelectricity. Energy from the lower Snake River has come at a high cost to wildlife. The fish aren’t coming back as they did before, and fishing season gets shorter every year. Given these dams only supply 4% of the region’s electricity, they do more damage than good. Outdated and expensive to maintain, they also have an outsize negative impact on salmon and steelhead runs—heating reservoirs to fatal temperatures to cold-water fish. Therefore, of the dams in the Columbia River Basin, we must acknowledge that not all dams are equal. The Columbia River Basin Initiative is a long-needed action plan that does just this. It separates out the good dams from the bad.
For Northwest communities that depend on and are often defined by these fish, the Columbia River Basin Initiative represents a tremendous victory in salmon conservation and recovery. It’s also a victory for much-needed upgrades across sectors, including transportation, farming and irrigation. And of course, it provides a blueprint to meet our growing clean energy demands.

I was moved by the words of Jeremy Takala, Chair of the Yakama Nation Tribal Council’s Fish and Wildlife Committee. In his recent testimony to Congress he stated: “As the U.S. Supreme Court recently affirmed, Treaty fishing rights include the right to actually catch fish, not just to dip our nets in empty waters without salmon.”
Extinction is forever, dams are replaceable. Northwest communities and the ecosystem that sustains us cannot afford to lose our iconic salmon. And on this point, we cannot get it wrong and the science is irrefutable: Almost half of Snake River spring chinook salmon populations have reached near-extinction thresholds. In a 2022 report, NOAA specifically highlights that removing these dams would be our best hope to recover Columbia River salmon.
I’ve met with the energy experts who are at the forefront of our shifting energy landscape. It’s clear that a clean energy transition is already underway in the Northwest—and it is poised to rapidly accelerate. The energy benefits of the four lower Snake River dams can readily be replaced with little or no increase in utility customer rates. With smart investments, we can decarbonize our future and conserve and recover wildlife.
These fish are our national treasure. The opportunity is within our grasp, and it must be seized.
As a father, as a Northwest native, and as someone who loves the salmon that define our mighty rivers, I couldn’t be more excited. Together, we are moving toward a future where energy and salmon can truly coexist.
The miserable effects of the heat lasted for a few days, but the long-term impacts, to regional residents and wildlife, are still unfolding.
The extreme heat came from two pressure systems—one from the Aleutian Islands in Alaska, and another from James and Hudson Bay in Canada. The Pacific Northwest became trapped in what is described as a “heat dome,” defined by the Columbia Riverkeeper’s community organizer Kate Murphy as “an area of high pressure that traps heat beneath it.”
“Essentially,” Murphy said, “the area of high pressure acts like the lid on a pot.”
In a place like the Pacific Northwest, where ecosystems rely on cooler temperatures, such extreme heat can have severe, cascading impacts, some of which we have yet to fully understand.

The Columbia River Basin, a watershed that stretches from Canada through Washington, Oregon, Idaho, and Montana, was on the receiving end of the heat dome’s immediate impacts.
A video released by the Columbia Riverkeeper in mid-July shows sockeye salmon with dramatic lesions and fungus in the Columbia River.
Salmon can become stressed in water temperatures around 65 degrees Fahrenheit and above. The water temperature reached above 72 degrees in parts of Lake Washington Ship Canal for over a week following the heat dome.

Hoping to help the Snake River sockeye salmon in the last 300 miles of their migration journey, the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration intervened in July of this past summer. A group of scientists manually removed the fish from the hot water and drove them to the hatchery in Eagle, Idaho.
The heat from the summer is a reminder of a tragedy in 2015 when a heat wave and drought led to 1.5 million juvenile fish deaths that year.
Salmon weren’t the only wildlife animals directly affected by the 2021 summer heat.
According to Megan Kernan, water policy manager for the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife, a drought that began in the spring of last year and continued through summer increased the prevalence of viruses such as epizootic hemorrhagic disease, which is often fatal to white-tailed deer. The dryness limited their watering holes to just a few drinkable areas, where deer congregated in large numbers—perfect conditions for the spread of this infectious disease, as more deer are exposed to the infected gnats that transmit the disease.
It was a difficult summer for the entire region. Many are wondering if the ripple effects will end there, or if the heat dome’s impacts will have long-lasting repercussions.
While the answer demands more research, experts in the field are able to provide us with some opinions.
“Our natural systems are generally resilient,” said the Columbia Riverkeeper’s community organizer Kate Murphy. “However, there are a number of significant stressors on our critical forests at the moment. I certainly hope the forests will recover brilliantly, but we cannot continue adding more pressure and expect the outcome to be a good one.”
In a recent analysis, climate scientists estimated that this heat wave was made 150 times more likely by human-induced climate change.
Kernan says that this hot summer is just the beginning of a pattern we’ll continue to see with the changing climate.
“This issue and these risks aren’t going away. I think it’s important for resource managers around the state to start thinking about how we can build more drought resilient ecosystems.”
An event like this, which is currently estimated to occur once every 1,000 years, is predicted to begin happening every 5 to 10 years if the world continues to warm at the rate that it is.
This likely won’t be the only heat dome we’ll witness during our lifetimes. Jacklyn Hancock, hydrogeologist and drought coordinator for the Washington State Department of Agriculture, believes that the state needs to make some structural changes to allow for easier research regarding long term impacts.
“This is something we’re talking a lot about at the state level,” Hancock said. “I hope that in Washington and throughout this country, we begin to put a little bit more weight on collecting research about (long-term impacts) so we can be better informed when we’re faced with this type of event in the future.”
“There is no time to waste,” Murphy said. “What we do now matters.”
I made it to the Pacific and this is my home for the next 2 to 3 years. The last stretch of my epic swim was through the Columbia River Basin…But few people understand how big this river basin really is.
Let me tell you more, because this is the biggest adventure I’ve ever taken!
Before it meets the rush of the Pacific Ocean, the Columbia River travels 1,200 miles from its headwaters in British Columbia, Canada. The Columbia River Basin is one of the largest watersheds in the United States, draining an area approximately the size of France. That’s positively HUGE.
Its long and winding banks connect communities in Washington, Oregon, Idaho and Montana, and are surrounded by majestic mountain peaks like those of the Rocky and Cascade mountain ranges.

But I’m leaving it all behind. I’m onto the next thing and that’s the Pacific Ocean. This will be my home for the next few years. Here’s a glimpse of what’s to come.
I’ll enter the ocean from the coast of Oregon, testing out my new skills as a saltwater fish, truly living the anadromous life! Then I’ll eat and swim and eat and swim my way all the way up to Alaska. I’ll put a fair amount of energy into dodging the hungry apex predators who would like to make me their lunch. Fortunately for me, the orcas like my cousin the chinook best.
River and ocean conditions are fluctuating all the time, but it’s not just salmon who are feeling it. So are our favorite foods. Sockeye salmon like me eat other fish, like herring, along with tiny ocean crustaceans. But as the ocean water has been getting warmer due to climate change, there haven’t been as many of these tiny crustaceans for me, or the fish I eat, to consume. What could this teach us about the food chain?
Everything is connected.
Migrating fish face lots of challenges, some that can’t be fixed right away, some that can. Some in the ocean, and some in the rivers–and scientists agree that restoring the health of the rivers is critical. Salmon hatch and reproduce in the river, which makes ita very important part of our life cycle. Scientists also agree that the best way to make the rivers healthy for Columbia River salmon is to take out the lower Snake River dams, as they did on the Elwha River.
The salmon recovery on the Elwha River is a happy story of success. But before the removal of dams, it was a sad story of extinction. For a century, the Glines Canyon and Elwha Dam blocked steelhead behind a cement wall and limited salmon spawning habitat to 5 miles. It led to the extinction of the Elwha chinook, a fish that could weigh up to an impressive 100 pounds.
After around 100 years, the dams were finally removed. Salmon and steelhead numbers, previously at perilous lows, rebounded. But it didn’t stop there: the American dipper returned to the area, habitat for crabs, clams, shorebirds, insects and willows, alders, maple, and cottonwood trees was restored.. It’s proof positive that removing dams and restoring a free-flowing river is good for fish and other wildlife.


Left image: Elwha Dam removal work on October 20, 2011. Right image: Former Elwha Dam site on May 1, 2012. Credit: NPS
River restoration will be on my mind after three years in the ocean. I’ll have my fill of herring and start heading back toward the Columbia River to take on the awe-inspiring 900-mile journey. I’ll be fighting the current, seeking cool waters, dodging more predators and fighting my way up the lower Snake River, so I can find my way back into Redfish Lake.
Lucky for me, I won’t be meeting these guys along the way. But I’ll need help from people if I’m not going to be another Larry, all alone on the biggest day of my life. Will you take the pledge?
What did my journey teach you?

Little Larry is a tiny fish on a big journey—swimming 900-miles from Idaho to the Pacific—tail first! His journey is a reminder that salmon could become extinct.
Follow his story and cheer him on as he swims to beat the odds!
Little Larry Swims: A Small Salmon on a Big Journey
Little Larry Swims: Every Salmon Has Superpowers
Little Larry Swims: High Tailin’ Salmon
Little Larry Swims: Salmon in the Trees?
Little Larry Swims: Some Like it Hot! Salmon Like it Cold.
Little Larry Swims: Whoop Whoop! Living the Anadromous Life
Meet some kids who are speaking up for salmon.
Why? Because I’m a coldwater fish. In the spring, I’m swimming through snowmelt, and that icy, crisp water flowing out of the mountains toward the Pacific is my idea of heaven.

It’s not all smooth sailing, though! Did you know that several dams along the way turn the river into a big hot tub? They slow the flow of the river and turn cold streams into a series of hot water reservoirs. Yikes! Let’s cool it down, people! I’m a cold-water fish and I’m sweating it down here…
Just like the air temperature rises, so does water temperature. Water stores heat, especially if it’s still or shallow. If you’ve ever been swimming in a little pond in August, you know what I’m talking about.
And that’s what the reservoirs behind the dams are like, turning my little slice of heavenly habitat into something dangerously different. It’s not a fun swim anymore when I’m soaking in a hot tub and the temperature is going up, up, up.
Salmon have superpowers, but they don’t do well when water gets hotter than about 68 degrees—it’s our kryptonite. Imagine running a marathon. Now imagine running that same marathon in the desert. No fun, right? Right! It’s a killer.
The same goes for salmon on their return journey, migrating up to 900 miles back to their spawning grounds. Salmon are weaker in hot water, it takes more energy for us to swim. And heading back to our natal streams, we’re also swimming on an empty stomach. Hotter water short-wires our system in so many ways. It scrambles our ability as anadromous fish, to transition from fresh to saltwater and back.
The last few summers have been scorchers! In 2020, water behind three of the four lower Snake River dams got up to 71-73 degrees for at least two weeks. Then that hot water started moving through the whole river system, heating it to a temperature way too hot for salmon. We start seeking cold water so desperately, we may even swim in the wrong direction during migration time just to cool down.
Another big problem for salmon are the diseases and parasites that thrive in hot water. That makes beating the odds to get home to Redfish Lake even harder.
Climate change is making it worse. The warming summer temperatures are getting hotter than they’ve ever been. In 2021, we had a “heat dome” which pushed the temperatures higher than ever recorded in the Northwest.
People often say: “Fish need a river.” True that! But, we not only need a river, we need a cool, free flowing river. And so do many other wildlife and plant species.
Scientists agree. They say that taking down the dams and restoring the lower Snake River is essential for salmon like me to survive. It’s our best chance—and it’s the best chance for people and the 130 different wildlife species that depend on me.
Will you help restore my river, and help me make it home to Redfish Lake? Take the pledge
Little Larry is a tiny fish on a big journey—swimming 900-miles from Idaho to the Pacific—tail first! His journey is a reminder that salmon could become extinct.
Follow his story and cheer him on as he swims to beat the odds!
Little Larry Swims: A Small Salmon on a Big Journey
Little Larry Swims: Every Salmon Has Superpowers
Little Larry Swims: High Tailin’ Salmon
Little Larry Swims: Salmon in the Trees?
Little Larry Swims: Some Like it Hot! Salmon Like it Cold.
Little Larry Swims: Whoop Whoop! Living the Anadromous Life
Meet some kids who are speaking up for salmon.
When you are a salmon, you are a big part of it. 130 different plant and animal species depend on me. And so do people. I make for a great salmon bake. The restaurant chefs love me and I have been central to the diet culture and lifeways of Northwest Tribes for time immemorial.
An important role in the ecosystem
In the complex ecological food web—and my role in it—there’s a lot to learn, and some unexpected surprises. So while I’m pretty small and insignificant looking now, don’t be fooled. I’m actually a keystone species. It’s an honor but it’s also a big responsibility because so many species count on me to survive and thrive.

Keystone species: A species on which other species largely depend upon, and without their presence other species might be negatively impacted or cease to exist at all.
Back to the food chain. Let’s start at the top. You might have heard of the apex predator: bears, sharks, orca whales, and well, people…
When I grow bigger, I’ll have a high food value to the apex predator. And without me, they start to get “hangry.” There are fewer and fewer salmon around, so they have been getting really, really hungry. Orcas are particularly hungry for salmon, they aren’t getting enough and it’s putting their populations in danger.



My lifecycle is full of transitions, from my start in the river, out to the ocean, and back to the river to spawn…and that’s when some really weird stuff starts to happen. Basically, I have a very important afterlife. Just check this out!
The U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service describes the freakish transformation of my fellow salmon up north in “Life After Death: Your Ultimate Guide to Zombie Salmon”.
“Just as they feed the masses when they’re alive, salmon continue to give life long after they’re dead. When the bears are satiated and the fisherfolk have gone home, others partake. Eyeballs, a sumptuous morsel for beaked scavengers, are often the first to go. Depending where the carcasses lay, they’re fodder for fly larvae and aquatic grazers like caddisflies. In an odd twist of fate, these same insects will feed the new generation of salmon incubating beneath the gravel.”
So even after I’ve died and passed on, I’ll still be feeding the ecological food web as a “zombie salmon.” Feeling brave? Check out these crazy pictures!
At the end of my journey, after meeting up with the other salmon who made their way back to Redfish, I’ll pass on the nutrients I picked up in the ocean to other wildlife and even the trees!

A salmon carcass goes on to nourish the watershed with the nutrients—nitrogen and phosphorus—from the ocean. These fuel the growth of red cedars and the health of riparian corridors. Researchers found that trees on the banks of salmon-stocked rivers grow more than three times faster than their counterparts along salmon-free rivers.
Here’s a really fun fact: Scientists have long known that nitrogen content in a tree can be measured from its growth rings, which in turn, can be used to reconstruct historic salmon returns.
So when you are looking for salmon, there are a number of places you’ll find me. I’m in the river, I’m in the ocean…but I’m also in the trees!
Will you help me reach home, back to my river, back to Redfish Lake? Take the pledge
Little Larry is a tiny fish on a big journey—swimming 900-miles from Idaho to the Pacific—tail first! His journey is a reminder that salmon could become extinct.
Follow his story and cheer him on as he swims to beat the odds!
Little Larry Swims: A Small Salmon on a Big Journey
Little Larry Swims: Every Salmon Has Superpowers
Little Larry Swims: High Tailin’ Salmon
Little Larry Swims: Salmon in the Trees?
Little Larry Swims: Some Like it Hot! Salmon Like it Cold.
Little Larry Swims: Whoop Whoop! Living the Anadromous Life
Meet some kids who are speaking up for salmon.
In my case, and for all the salmon runs in these parts, the opposite is true. The odds are against us. On average, around 98% of us from Redfish Lake don’t survive the outmigration to the ocean to return to spawn in the river.
That means I have just one job: To beat the odds.
Why are the odds so tough? Think of the wild kingdom. It’s full of hungry animals, like birds and fish. I’m a wonderful snack to many of them. And then, a new challenge: our journey to the ocean has changed drastically since the 1930s.
Salmon evolved in a free-flowing river. We used to high-tail it—literally tail first!—out to the ocean in the flush of water and gravity, which carries the snowmelt all the way to the ocean. It was like sliding down a mountain slope, a rollicking ride on a rush of white water and waterfalls tugging you all the way.
The 900 miles—backwards!—would speed by. In a week, it was over! But fast forward to my journey today, and the week-long free-ride now can take us as many as 40 days.
So what’s the slowdown? Imagine a watery river highway that has turned into a sandtrap. That’s what it looks like for super-swimmers like me. We now have to navigate past many obstacles, including a series of dams on the lower Snake River. Dams slow the rush of water and turn swift-moving rapids into slow, shallow reservoirs, robbing the river of the strong current needed to carry salmon smolts like me out to sea.
That slowdown in the river, which now looks like a series of reservoirs, invites trouble, deadly trouble. We become fish food to the many predators that surround us. We keep the food web humming, and without us, many species go hungry. But we salmon have our own work to do to survive. We want to return to the river as adults so we can spawn and reproduce.
The hardest part of beating these odds is the dams. Imagine swimming along, weightless in the water, and suddenly you are diving off a towering cliff. The river below is a solid wall and it will knock you silly.

I don’t mean to burst your innertube, but the numbers say it all: Life as a salmon is no fun float down the river. Our journey is full of challenges and adventure. Remember the 10-kilometer marathon swim at the Olympics? That’s a distance sockeye salmon eat for breakfast. But we need a free-flowing river if we want to reach the finish line. Will you help me reach the finish line? Take the pledge
Little Larry is a tiny fish on a big journey—swimming 900-miles from Idaho to the Pacific—tail first! His journey is a reminder that salmon could become extinct.
Follow his story and cheer him on as he swims to beat the odds!
Little Larry Swims: A Small Salmon on a Big Journey
Little Larry Swims: Every Salmon Has Superpowers
Little Larry Swims: High Tailin’ Salmon
Little Larry Swims: Salmon in the Trees?
Little Larry Swims: Some Like it Hot! Salmon Like it Cold.
Little Larry Swims: Whoop Whoop! Living the Anadromous Life
Meet some kids who are speaking up for salmon.
The increased amounts of spill were ordered by federal district court Judge Michael Simon as an interim measure while federal river agencies work through a five year process to look at how wild salmon and steelhead runs in the Columbia and Snake can be restored. Specifically on the table is the option of breaching the four dams on the lower Snake River. Not content with the collaborative agreement for interim spill that was signed off on by federal biologists, the Corps is seeking immediate review form the Ninth Circuit in yet another attack on restored threatened and endangered runs of fish.
To highlight both the progress that has been made and the big challenges that remain for restoring wild salmon and steelhead, the Save our Wildlife Salmon Coalition, which includes the National Wildlife Federation, decided it was time to talk to the public.
The groups invited two reporters well versed in all things salmon to talk about the Snake, which flows through Idaho into the Columbia, and the Elwha River on Washington’s Olympic Peninsula.
Rocky Barker of the Idaho Statesman, and Lynda Mapes, reporter for The Seattle Times, did double duty the week of January 21, presenting “A Tale of Two Rivers” to standing room crowds in Seattle and Spokane.
Barker spent 2017 reporting and writing a series of stories on the Columbia River, salmon and power. He was the lead researcher on editorials that called for breaching four Snake River dams to save salmon. He is the author of the book “Scorched Earth: How the Fires of Yellowstone Changed America.”
Mapes covered the removal of two dams on the Elwha and has written about what has happened to the river and the land around it since the dams were breached. Her book, “The Elwha, A River Reborn,” grew out of her reporting.
“Now you can stand in the former reservoir and there are trees over your head,” Mapes told the Seattle audience. Two dams blocked the river for 100 years, until the Elwha dam came down in 2011 and the Glines Canyon Dam followed in 2014.
Natural recovery behind the former dams is going to take 20 years, she said, and the salmon recovery won’t be a steady one. The number of fish returning to the river this year and next will be down from the first few years after the dams were breached. That’s because the fish returning now traveled down river when sediment built up behind the dams was being flushed from the river.
The recovery is about more than salmon though, Mapes said. As the habitat is restored, other species – from insects to elk – are thriving.
In 2010, the Elwha dams came up for license renewal and were found to be operating below current power production efficiency standards, which led to their removal.
That won’t be the case with the dams on the lower Snake River. Construction on the four dams lasted from 1962 to 1978, and they still provide power, Barker said, although they are not as important to the power grid as they were 20 years ago.
They also provide water to irrigate wheat and make it possible for barge traffic to carry it away.
But Barker said the river “doesn’t produce the goods and services like it did 20 years ago.” There are fewer farms pumping water out of the river and less barge traffic. As for power, these dams were always the lesser lights in the Columbia-Snake power system.
Barker said that Idaho, unlike on the Elwha, has habitat that doesn’t need to be restored.
“We still have water. We still have habitat. We have to decide what we’re going to do with them.”
The process of deciding has been going on in federal court since 2001 when the National Wildlife Federation and other plaintiffs brought a lawsuit against federal agencies to force them to abide by the Endangered Species Act and protect salmon in the Columbia River basin. That was not quite 10 years after Snake River sockeye were listed as endangered.
In April 2017, Judge Simon ordered plaintiff and defendants in the lawsuit to work together on a plan for how much water could be spilled over four dams on the Snake and four dams on the Columbia to improve the survival rate of young salmon heading downriver. The result is a plan to start in April for flows to be as large as they can be under Washington and Oregon’s limits on dissolved gas. High concentrations of dissolved gas can be harmful to young salmon.
“Every time spill is increased, salmon returns also increase,” said Tom France, Executive Director of the National Wildlife Federation’s Northern Rockies, Prairies, and Pacific Regional Center. “The increased spill order by the Court should lead to this same positive result.”
But it won’t happen if government attorneys get their way. They have appealed the judge’s order that resulted in the increased spill operation.
“It is truly unfortunate that the Corps of Engineers continues to fight real progress for fish even when their experts participated in the solution,” France wrote in an email.
Beyond the immediate increases spill ordered for this spring, Judge Simon has also directed the federal agencies to come up with a new biological opinion and analysis on how they’re going to protect and recovery endangered fish. Under the Judge’s order, the agencies must consider breaching the four lower Snake River dams in this process and reach a new decision by 2021.
Since 2000, the federal river management agencies has issued four different biological opinions on how salmon and steelhead can be protected. Four times, federal judges have determined these proposals to be wholly inadequate. As one judicial opinion described it, the federal agencies continue to offer “relatively small steps, minor improvements and adjustments” when drastic action was called for.
“Nature is going to talk,” Mapes said. “I wonder if we are going to listen.”
“Your Power is Turning Our Darkness to Dawn…”
Today our attitudes about dams have changed; while we still use and enjoy the power that comes from hydroelectric dams we regret other changes that dams have wrought, especially decreased salmon runs.
The Seattle Times just published an Op-ed about bringing salmon back to the Cle Elum in the Yakima River Basin by Virgil Lewis, titled “Celebrating and supporting the return of the Cle Elum Sockeye.” Check out National Wildlife Federation’s work with American Rivers and other conservation groups on the Yakima River Basin here.
So while we still need electricity and stored water, agencies and non-profits are working to bring back salmon runs and healthier river ecosystems, whether it’s by tearing down dams or by improving fish passages around dams.
Meanwhile, in Alaska, plans are underway to build new hydroelectric projects such as one planned on the Susitna River. You can learn more about this project here.
Our questions about “A River Lost: The life and Death of the Columbia” from last month are repeated here, and in addition to the questions posed last month, we’d like to request some thoughts from you, the reader, about hydroelectric power and irrigation projects in the Northwest and around the world.
Discussion Questions (please join the discussion in the comments below):
“Forget CSI—this is the real deal, tracking down the greediest kinds of criminals as they plunder the planet’s future.” – Bill McKibben
While the big bust in September was focused on poachers of game like deer and elk, and even the restaurants buying and serving the game, poachers go after all types and sizes of fish and wildlife, as long as there’s a market. Even clams.
Apparently, geoduck poaching is a problem here in Puget Sound, and “Shell Games” features the story of undercover operatives who try to catch these shellfish poachers. (Geoducks are a type of clam.)
As long as there is a market for illegal fish and wildlife products, this battle is likely to continue, but government agencies and non-profits are doing what they can to educate the public about this growing problem, here and around the world.
Please add your support today with a message to decision-makers. Tell the Administration to Act Now to Save Columbia-Snake River Salmon!
With thirteen salmon and steelhead populations—and thousands of salmon-related jobs—at risk, twenty years of litigation over failed federal salmon plans, and more than $10 billion spent, the governor is proposing a different path forward. He is advocating a stakeholder-driven process to develop a plan that restores salmon and steelhead, creates jobs, invests in regional communities, and reduces the persistent uncertainty facing many businesses in Oregon and the Pacific Northwest.
Governor Kitzhaber thinks that the establishment of an inclusive stakeholder process may be the best way to craft a comprehensive, long-term salmon plan that works for both salmon and people. And he is asking other elected leaders in the Northwest and in Washington, D.C., to join him in making it a reality.
The governor published an op-ed on Sept 22nd in which he said, “By gathering the parties around a table, and working in good faith to reach common ground on a fisheries plan that is supported by sound science, we can come to the 2014 [court-ordered] deadline with a historic agreement that ends the 20-year chapter of salmon wars in the Columbia basin, an agreement that protects fish while maintaining our supply of clean and affordable energy.
While Governor Kitzhaber’s recent push is highly visible, he is not alone in seeking a new path forward. Tens of thousands of citizens, more than a thousand businesses, and scores of state and federal lawmakers have expressed similar support for a new approach that brings together the affected interests in the region to work together on an effective, science-based plan that restores Columbia Basin salmon and invests in Northwest communities and the economy.
Learn more about this “solutions table” for Columbia-Snake salmon.
For many years, efforts to restore salmon to this important watershed have proven both elusive and contentious. National Wildlife Federation initiated litigation in the early 1990s, following the listing of Snake River sockeye salmon under the Endangered Species Act (ESA). Since then, twelve additional stocks of salmon and steelhead in the Columbia Basin have been listed as threatened or endangered, and four of five federal plans developed by the federal government have been rejected as inadequate by the courts, most recently in 2011.
Commercial, sport, and tribal fishing communities and outdoor retail companies have been hit particularly hard by constrained fisheries and limited recreational opportunities and the loss of jobs and income caused by salmon population declines. Recovering salmon and steelhead to healthy, harvestable populations will restore thousands of jobs in the region’s salmon economy that have been lost in the last several decades. The development of an effective, science-based plan that has the support of the region’s leaders and stakeholders will increase certainty and help Northwest businesses and communities plan successfully for the future.
The question of whether to remove the lower Snake River dams in order to protect an irreplaceable Northwest icon has long been at the center of the debate on restoring salmon. Hundreds of fisheries biologists, including the Western Division of the American Fisheries Society (AFS), and dozens of studies have concluded that the removal of the lower Snake River dams in eastern Washington must be part of any effective Columbia Basin restoration plan. Today, all remaining stocks in the Snake River—sockeye, steelhead, fall Chinook, and spring-summer Chinook—are listed under the ESA.
Steadily rising water temperatures in the Columbia and Snake Rivers as a result of a warming climate and dam-restricted flow are increasing the scrutiny of these dams. Water temperatures in the lower Snake and lower Columbia exceeded 70 degrees for much of this summer—frequently violating Clean Water Act standards and harming salmon and steelhead migrating to and from the ocean.
A free-flowing lower Snake River would significantly lower water temperatures in both the Snake and Columbia rivers, and reconnect Snake River fish to pristine habitat in the mountains of central Idaho, in places like the Salmon River and Redfish Lake. Many of these high elevation refuges—though largely inaccessible for salmon today—are being called the Noah’s Ark for salmon in a world of climate change. Many of these areas remain cold and snowy for much of the year, and thus provide salmon the cold, clear water that they depend upon.
Restoring wild salmon and steelhead in the Columbia and Snake Rivers remains an essential job and shared goal for the people of the Northwest and the nation. These fish represent critical threads in the Northwest’s economic, ecological, and cultural fabric: feeding ecosystems and people, sustaining jobs and ways of life.
With so much at stake, salmon and fishing advocates enthusiastically welcome Governor Kitzhaber’s call for a new approach, for a coming together of both allies and adversaries, to begin repairing what is broken in the Columbia Basin, in a manner that works for both salmon and people.
You can add your voice by taking action today: Tell the Administration to Act Now to Save Columbia-Snake River Salmon!
The new report makes a strong case that these port proposals will have a negative impact on fish and wildlife and that the Army Corps of Engineers should conduct a programmatic EIS on all projects to gather hard science on potential fish impacts.
Some of these concerns include:
The report, “The True Cost of Coal” represents some of the very first vocal concerns from the sportsmen community regarding the proposed coal export terminals.
The Association of NW Steelheaders is one of Oregon and Washington’s most well respected sportsmen voices with a mission dedicated to enhancing and protecting fisheries and their habitats for today and into the future.
Urge the Army Corps of Engineers to thoroughly review the risks to Northwest fish and wildlife from proposed coal export terminals.