Photo By: Camille Egdorf

As I walked across the asphault towards the Dillingham airport terminal I took a deep breath and couldn’t help but notice how good it felt to be back for another summer. Spring hadn’t sprung yet so everything was a brown and dreary color with low clouds threatening to spit rain on the bay. My mother and I were greeted by two of Dillingham’s best young bucks who offered to give us a ride to Aleknagik (a small native village about 20 miles from Dilly). Bubba and Chad have been my close friends for several years and always manage to find “fun”. As we were loading up the truck, I was tapped on the shoulder. I turned around to see Kevin Layland, a kid I have been friends with my entire life. It had been a couple years since I had seen him and was surprised to see that he had the makings of a small beard and was wearing Carhartts that would make a hobo fit for candle lit dinner. We all stood around and visited for several minutes and then decided to head for the lake. I couldn’t have thought of a better “welcome back” then to have some of my closest friends meet me at the airport.

The next few days were spent getting the cabin cleaned up and livable. Bubba and Chad stopped by late one evening for a visit. Bubba is a pilot and his dad had left his small supercub on the North shore of the lake and had asked Bubba to fly it to Dillingham for him. I knew what plane he was talking about, it happened to be the red cub sitting by the airstrip that looked as though it had been through hell and back. All the instruments on the inside were nearly torn out, had “Fuck” very faintly painted on the side and seats that looked as though mice had made little homes inside them. Not so sure I would want to fly around in that thing. But Bubba was determined. We all stood to the side as we watched Bubba try to start the little cub. Nothing happened. Then he jumped out and motioned for Chad to come over. I waltzed over too because I knew that, whatever would happen, would be good and I didn’t want to miss it.

“Chad, I need you to sit in the plane and hold the break and throttle,” instructs Bubba. “Why?” asks Chad. “I have to prop start this son of a bitch.” (Prop starting means someone must manually turn the prop in order for it to fire and start. All the while avoiding the prop).

“Oh, shit” was written all over Chad’s face as Bubba went to the front of the plane and grabbed the prop blade.

“CRANK….WOOOSH.” Nothing. “CRANK….WOOOSH.” Nothing. “CRANK….WOOOSH.” Nothing. This probably went on for like 10 minutes. I was convinced that it wasn’t going to start when “BOOM”. Bubba staggers back and nearly falls over. Black exhaust swirls in the air and birds fly from the trees in fright. It had backfired.

“Holy cows,” giggles Bubba as he goes back to the prop. “CRANK……VERRRROOOOM! The plane fires right up. Chad, who’s still sitting in the plane brings the throttle down to an idyle while Bubba jumps in. “Chad, I want to do a couple touch and goes solo before you fly with me.” So Chad joins my mother and I as we watch Bubba taxi onto the runway and take off. He did a few “not so perfect touch and goes” and then comes and picks up Chad. As they flew off I couldn’t help but wish I was in that plane with them.

A few short days later, my dad showed up in his Cessna 185 from Anchorage. Our crew for the season was already in town so we all had dinner together before my dad flew them out to camp. There was Dan, Ross, Seth, and Nick. Dan was from Michigan who had a degree in International Business and Spanish. Ross was a fish bum/guide from Redding, California. Seth was a fish bum/guide from Montana and Nick was from Washington who had a fetish for Jeeps and guns. That night, my dad made two trips to camp in order to get all the guys out. My mom and I would be going out in a couple days so she could get the kitchen ready and I could help train the new guys. Our first week was fast approaching and we had a lot to do. 

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

Photo By: Camille Egdorf

The next day my dad and I went to Dillingham to get some supplies and attend a town meeting with the EPA regarding the proposed Pebble mine. This past spring, the EPA announced that it would become involved in and research possible affects the mine would have on communities and natural habitats. A huge advantage for the anti-pebble folks. The meeting was held in the Dillingham middle school gym and I was delighted to see how many people showed up. Commercial, sportfishing and subsitence fisherman were all there to express their concerns and thanks for the EPA’s involvement. My dad was one of the last people to stand up and shed a little light on what was a stake. He spoke with emotion, determination and frankness that would make Bill O’Reilly feel like a pinhead. It was exactly what the EPA needed to hear.

Dillingham meeting with EPA. Photo By: Camille Egdorf

Our first week began with 6. The weather was a balmy 50 degrees, the river was in mint condition and the trout were abundant. The first week is always a bit tense as it’s the beginning of a long and arduous season of endless fishing. It’s always nice to start the season with good clients and get things off on the right foot. Our worries were soon dissolved as the first three clients walked up the steps carrying a pirate flag saying, “Surrender the Booty”.

Photo By: Camille Egdorf

More to come! -Camille

It’s no question that most of us have a lust and need for things that are propelled by adventure and built by two inspiring words, ‘what if’. We seek out places that have been lost to history, pursue the unknown, and even fantasize about embarking on adventures that closely resemble Narnia or Harry Potter. If you’re one of the lucky people that get to search for Atlantis or catch Bigfoot, kudos to you, that’s awesome, but if you’re anything like me then you’re dreaming of remote and wild places free of a plague I call civilization.

Alaska is the harbinger of remote places. Rivers rich in life snake through the tundra the same today as they did when humans chased saber-tooth tigers with sticks. In today’s world of politics, machines, cities, news, and straight up noise, it’s difficult to find a place where nothing but the faint ringing in your ear is all you hear when all else is silent. I’ve experienced that ringing while sitting atop a hill overlooking a vast expanse of wilderness void of human influence and thought how shameful it would be to allow such a rarity to be degraded simply for copper and gold.

I’ve always said that I would stand up for what I love and believe in. That I would do my best to protect what I hold dear to my heart; whether it is family, friends and even a place. In this case, I’m working to protect a place. Bristol Bay, Alaska is currently the ant in which a kid with a magnifying glass is studying. Two foreign mining companies are looking to build the world’s largest open pit copper and gold mine at the headwaters of the richest salmon harboring rivers on the planet. This mine could potentially ruin a resource that has given Alaskan’s their identity and way of life for centuries, a resource that gives life to an ecosystem in which millions of people journey to experience every year. Alaska’s salmon are its footprint, its blood, and without salmon Alaska will forever be changed and human beings will forever be to blame.

When I’m not playing the role of “student” at Montana State University in Bozeman, I’m busy fishing, working with MSU’s fly fishing club Gallatin FlyCasters and finding ways to educate folks on the proposed pebble mine in Alaska. Recently, I and Gallatin FlyCasters teamed up with the Madison-Gallatin Trout Unlimited on doing a showing of Red Gold (an award winning documentary by Ben Knight and Travis Rummel of Felt Soul Media) which focuses on Bristol Bay, its salmon and the issues surrounding the development. After several weeks of planning and advertising, the 23rd of March was suddenly upon us and I was beginning to feel the sting of anticipation and worry in hopes of having a good turnout.

The show was to start at 7pm. I, along with a friend, showed up at 6 to help set up and get things ready. I was in charge of the anti-pebble table and asking for signatures on a petition going to the EPA while Mark Peterson and Travis Morris (guys from TU) sold tickets. I was surprised to see several people already filing through the door. “Wow,” I thought to myself. “People are actually coming!” As 7 rolled around Curt “Ole” Olson (commercial fisherman from film) and my folks (Dave and Kim Egdorf) came through the door. Without hesitation, Ole grabs the microphone and starts talking about Bristol Bay and how important it is that we stop this mine. I watched the crowd of nearly 200 as he spoke and I saw nothing but intent and awe stricken gazes. Ole has a knack for captivating his audience. As the film was about to start I stood up and made my short speech. First off, I’m not the best public speaker, I do the classic stutter, forget what I was going to say and fidget like I have a colony of termites in my pants. I was surprised to find that this was not going to be one of those embarrassing moments for me. Words just flowed easily from my mouth (almost like word diarrhea). I guess when you speak from the heart everything just falls into place.

After the film Ole stood up once again and provided an informative and moving speech. He talked about his life on Nushagak Point, his family, and his fellow fisherman. If his stories about Bristol Bay couldn’t convince you that it’s a place worth saving then I don’t know what could because there was nothing but truth in his words. The same goes for my dad, Dave Egdorf. He’s been a pilot in Alaska for over 30 years and has experienced things that most of us will only read about. He also stood up and enveloped the crowd in stories that spawned (no pun intended) goose bumps. Once the speeches came to an end, it was time for our raffle drawing. I pulled several tickets from the hat and gave away prizes ranging from fly boxes to a rod, line and reel kit from The Fly Shop in Redding, California. As I walked out of the theater headed to my table to start asking for signatures, I was shocked to see the table flooded with folks signing the petition. Pages were being grabbed at like kids scrambling for candy after a piñata had been beaten with a bat. People were endlessly coming to me with questions, thank yous and inquiring about ways they could help. I was beaming with happiness just because I didn’t have to ask people for anything, they just willingly signed, grabbed stickers and asked questions. It was the most refreshing and rewarding feeling ever!

Once everyone had emptied the old theater, a few of us stayed behind, drank a beer and reflected on the night. After some number crunching we estimated that we would be able to donate over $1000 to an organization heavily involved in the fight against pebble and had exposed the issue to the entire city of Bozeman through radio broadcasts and an article in the Bozeman Chronicle. I truly feel that it was a successful event and it couldn’t have been pulled off without the support of our sponsors and Trout Unlimited. I’d like to thank Sportsman’s Alliance for Alaska, Felt Soul Media, The Fly Shop, Gallatin River Lodge, Simms, and many others for their support and generous donations. Without these folks, events such as this would not be possible and protecting resources like Bristol Bay would be nearly impossible.

A few days later I was driving to class dreading an exam that had consumed my life for the past week, when I pulled up behind a rusted out truck with a single sticker on its bumper. A smile spread across my face as I stared at the No Pebble mine sticker. In that single moment I had this over-whelming feeling that we were going to beat this mine. Bristol Bay is a rare, invigorating, and beautiful place that is the last stronghold for wild Sockeye salmon. It’s one of the few places where someone can truly live an adventure free of human technology and experience the world through nature’s eyes and see pulses of salmon bring the region to life. It’s without question, a jewel worth fighting for.

-Camille

Prizes include:
- Up’North Hat & Decals
- LLBean Streamlight Ultra 14ft 9wt Spey Rod (Two Handed)
- Roughfisher’s Trout Nymph Assortment (tied just for this contest!)
- Cliff Outdoors “Super Days Worth” Fly Box
- Leland Fly Fishing Outfitters: C&F Bonefish Waterproof Fly Box w/assortment of warm/salt flies
- Life on the Fly Outfitters-10% off any Saltwater Trip

Visit his site:
http://www.maineflycastings.com
to view the rules & regulations for the contest.

So get out there, grab your camera, and submit some photos for a chance to win some great swag!

A few weeks ago, I was contacted by the director of Sportsman’s Alliance  for Alaska, Scott Hed, asking me to run their booth at the Great Rockies Sports Show here in Bozeman the weekend of January 28-30th.  Sportsman’s Alliance for Alaska is a non-profit organization dedicated to preserving natural resources and habitats in our country’s last frontier. For the past 3-4 years Bristol Bay, Alaska has been an X on the treasure map of two foriegn mining companies. Anglo-American, a London based mining corporation and Northern Dynasty, a Canadian mining corporation have partnered in a proposed open pit copper, gold, and molybdemum mine at the headwaters of the most prolific sockeye salmon run on the planet. It would be the world’s largest open pit mine with an earthen dam that would dwarf the Three Gorges Dam in China. It’s name? The Pebble Mine.

Proposed Pebble footprint. -Trout Unlimited

The show ran from Friday afternoon until Sunday evening. The show itself wasn’t of great size but it was able to draw people in from all over the valley. On Friday my mom came to town. She decided to take a break from substitute teaching and come spend the weekend in Bozeman. She, along with a few of my buddies, helped me set up the booth and start reeling in people in an effort to collect signatures (we had a petition going to the EPA). Although it was slow the first day, anyone who saw our booth (which was pretty sweet looking) came over and asked, “What’s the pebble mine?”  After a brief over-view most signed the petition and walked away genuinly concerned. I even had a little girl come up and grab a sticker from the table and stick it on her shirt. Even though she was probably too young to understand what it meant, it still put a grin on my face and made me believe even more that we can stop this mine.  

For the next two days myself, my mom, and a couple buddies worked the booth. Ian Majszak who is a close friend of mine, is an accomplished videographer and was kind enough to not only help with the booth, but to also take some great photos of the weekend event. Thanks for all your help Ian!

Photo by: Ian Majszak

Photo by: Ian Majszak

Photo by: Ian Majszak

Overall, I was  able to get over 130 signatures and educated twice as many on the issue. Most people seemed fairly concerned and as usual there were those who were less than interested in the topic. I had the opportunity to visit with some local miners who offered some good insight on the potential of Pebble. Even though I understood where they were coming from, I still believe that a mine of this size and type should not be developed in such a fragile and rare enviornment.

Not more than a week after the show, I recieved an email from Sportsman’s Alliance announcing that the EPA is making plans to study Bristol Bay’s fish & wildlife resources and how pebble could impact the watershed. This is major leverage in the fight to stop pebble and great news for Bristol Bay.

For more information please visit:

http://yosemite.epa.gov/opa/admpress.nsf/48f0fa7dd51f9e9885257359003f5342/8c1e5dd5d170ad99852578300067d3b3!OpenDocument

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

On the evening of September 10th my dad shot a moose. That night I was fishing upriver from camp when I heard this faint grunt coming from the alder trees behind me. I immediately knew that it was a bull moose and took off running for camp (which I regret now because I made everyone believe I was being chased by a bear). Anyway, I informed my dad who inturn grabbed his gun and we walked about 100 yards behind camp when we saw the bull standing in some bushes. He was looking right at us. “Is he big enough?” asked my dad. “He looks pretty big to me,” I replied. One shot was all it took for the old bull to go down. He ran about 50 yards only to expire in a small pond (slew). I was sure that we would be out there all night cutting up moose and fighting off bears, but with six people working together we had that moose in camp within 3 hours. The rest of the night was spent sitting around the campfire, drinking beer and telling stories. It was a good way to end the hunting season and what kept creeping into my mind was the fact that 2 years ago to that day was when I shot my moose. The season of 2010 was a great one and it’s hard to believe it’s already come and gone. Such is life I suppose: the bad news is time flys, but the good news is…your the pilot!

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

I returned to Montana in early October and two weeks later I was off to British Columbia to chase steelhead. My dad and I left Montana eager for that first swing and first ever BC steelhead. The drive was long but the senery was unbelievable. After 3 days of driving we reached New Hazelton and met up with a steelhead master by the name of Paul Miller (aka, Paulito). He and his wife were kind enough to let us stay in his B-E-A-UTIFUL home and offer us some much needed (and appreciated) instruction on the Kispiox river. Paul took us to several of his favorite runs (all of which will remain un-named) and after a brief lesson on where to cast and “what not to do” we began our 2010 steelhead extravaganza.

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

The next 8 days was spent beating the water and battling the elements. I’ve never been to a place where mother nature was so prominent (I know that sounds dumb but go to BC and you”ll know what I mean). It rained nearly everyday and if it wasn’t, it was colder then a snowman’s nose. I was constantly “doing a little jig” to get the blood flowing through my viens again. Even though the weather threatened to take every little bit of sanity I had left, I was loving every minute, and when I brought in my first ever wild BC steelhead I remembered why I was there and whyI loved fishing so much. It was a good feeling to hold that 15lb hen in my hands, then watch her swim back to the waters in which she was born. Steelhead truly are……god’s dime.

Photo by: Dave Egdorf

Photo by: Dave Egdorf

Photo by: Camille Egdorf

Photo by: Dave Egdorf

Throughout our 8 days of fishing, my dad and I caught and released 3 wild steelhead. Some would say that’s terrible fishing, but we couldn’t have been happier. Steelhead are tough, elusive, stubborn and picky. Anglers can go weeks without even moving one, and the fact that we got 3 was more than satisfactory. The time spent with my dad was icing on the cake and will be something I look back on for the rest of my life. British Columbia steelhead are now in my blood and if one thing is for sure, I’ll be back for round 2….soon!

The rest of my fall was spent in Montana. Hunting season was in full swing when we got back so I endulged myself in some duck and pheasant hunting. In November, I turned 21. Some friends were kind enough to show me the ropes to ‘bar hopping’ even though we only went to 2. I’ve never been one for singing and always said that I’d never sing karaoke, but on this particular night, Jenn and I sang “Fishin in the Dark” which we totally rocked. I think I may have a future in karaoke! Snowboarding season is also upon Montana and I have been taking full advantage of it. Red Lodge is the closest mountian and although small, is a great hill to spend a day on. On Christmas eve, I was lucky enough to snowboard a full day with two good friends of mine. It’s one thing to be out snowboarding, but when your able to do it with good people, it makes a good day turn into an awesome day. I can’t wait for the next day of shredding the pow pow!

I’ll return to college in January. I’m looking forward to getting back into school again (I know, I’ll probably eat my words). I’ll try to be a better blogger and update this thing more than just once every 4 months. Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and I’ll see you all in the new year!!!

Best fishes and Happy Holidays, Camille <’))))><

Our first week started June 10th. We had 5 anglers in camp, all of which were great people and wonderful anglers. No salmon had come through the bay yet so, obviously there were no salmon upriver. Fishing was limited to streamers and mice, which produced no complaints. The rainbows were big and made the reel scream with every run. We fished cover hard (By cover I mean, logs, trees, cutbanks, etc), and inevitably lost quite a few flies. Bears were around but usually didn’t cause any problems. Although, we did have one try to join the campfire with us one night.

The following weeks were much the same. Throwing flies into death traps, and sometimes 15 feet up in the trees (those are always fun to try and get back). The weather was marginal. Rain somedays and sun the others. It’s been a very cold and wet summer for us this year. I would give anything to have just one day of sunshine. Anyway, the bugs were aweful as always. It was impossible to get away from them. They got so bad that I could hardly breath without snorting a mosquito….seriously. It was almost commical.

Salmon started showing up about the 30th of June. A chum here and there. Nothing to write home about, but it got us excited that the river would be coming to life soon. When the salmon show up they also bring other small fish with them. Like Dolly Varden, smaller Rainbows, and Grayling. All of which are hoping to benefit from the buffet of eggs that will soon be released by spawning salmon.

I had the opportunity to experience commercial fishing for the first time this summer. Dylan Braund and Ole Olson, from the movie Red Gold, invited me to go fishing with them for one week. So a packed my gear and off I went to Nushagak Point. I spent my first night on a tender. A tender is a 40 ft boat where fishermen sell and off load their fish. It was a real eye opener. I watched as the crew went about their business, working the cranes, and moving fish. I tried to stay out of the way but my curiosity got the best of me. I had to see what was going on. Anyway, sleeping on a boat out in Nushagak Bay was interesting. It took a while for me to get used to the constant rocking and the hum of the engine, but I relaxed and feel into a deep, fish smelling sleep.

The next day I woke up to Ole waiting for me in his skiff ready to go fishing. I look out the door to see a small fishing skiff and three people dressed in bright orange rain gear. It was howling out and I thought to myself, “I’m gonna be one of those people out in the pouring rain, wind and cold for 12 hours catching fish. HELL YES!!” Ole looked at me and asked, “You wanna go to the beach or go fishing?” I looked at him and said, ” I wanna go fishing.” So I threw on my waders and rain gear and went commercial fishing for the first time.

The next few days were undenyably awesome. I worked 12 hour shifts and had two 24 hour shifts. It’s amazing how mixed up your sense of time gets once you stay up for a couple days straight. The days just mesh together and become one long one. I spent time fishing one several different boats. I fished with Ole one day (the first day) then with Dylan for one, and after that I spent most of my time on Jordan’s boat, the Viken. Which was (no offense to Dylan or Ole) my favorite. Jordan, or Captian Crunch, was the skipper. Justin and Matt were the crewman and were great guys. We all got to know eachother fairly well after spending 12 hours on a small boat together. Justin was a fellow Bobcat (Montana State University in Bozeman, MT. Where I go to school.) who recently graduated. It’s amazing how small a world it really is.

The 4th was spent on the beach. Fishing had been slow so there was no reason to spend 12 hours freezing your butt off when you could be enjoying the company of fellow fishermen. Ole put together a big party, Peter Pan Cannery sent out hotdogs, beer and pop for the occasion, and some of the crewman built a bonfire. I guessed about 40+ people showed up, bringing home made food with them. I never ate so good at a potluck before….the cake was to die for. Being the mayor of Nushagak Point, Ole made a little speech and thanked everyone for coming. High tide was getting close so everyone started getting ready for the night shift. So did I.

I know this sounds crazy but, I prefered the night shift over the day shift. Time went by faster and the experience was that much neater. I was in Jordan’s boat that night and we decided to pick the nets quick and then head for a tender. A couple of the tenders provide hot chocolate and snacks for the fishermen when they came to sell fish. We were headed for the Thor that night. The Thor is an old wood boat, that pretty much looks like a house on water….almost. You wouldn’t think that it could float at first sight but it was by far the most comfortable. We tied the boat up and went inside. As you walked in the first thing you saw was the kitchen. Directly to the left is an ancient looking stove, a small counter, and coffee pot and a small sink. Then past that you’d see a small table. We took off our wet and stinky rain gear and made ourselves at home. The room had to have been over 90 degrees, and it felt wonderful. The candy bowl sitting on the table was immediately grabbed and raided of starburst and laffy taffeys, while everyone else reached for the coffee. Jordan and myself dove into the hot chocolate. It was there that I learned how to play 10,000. A dice game that required only good addition skills, something that was sometimes non-existant after so many hours without sleep. The game was easy and I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I had no luck and took last place every game.

About half way through the week, fishing the bay was closed due to low numbers on the Nush so Fish & Game opened the Wood River. This is something that happens very rarely. The last time Wood river was opened for commercial fishing was 10 years ago. The river is less than a mile wide, and over 200+ drifters and set netters rush to get the best spot for fishing. Dylan and Ole were lucky and got the four best spots on the Wood. We were the envy of every boat that went by. An hour before the opener, we were all scrambling to get everything ready. Once 7 am hit every set-netter dragged his net out and began catching fish. The drifter’s opener (which are those big fising boats you see in the harbor) was set one hour later. Once 8 am hit, the chaos began.

“WATCH OUT FOR MY BUOY!” yelled Ole, as a 40 foot drifter rolled by us less than 6 feet away. ”I’LL CUT YOUR NET IF YOU CATCH MY BUOY!” he yells. It was utter chaos. Over 20 boats trying to fish on spot right off our nets. It was like watching bumper boats. People were screaming four letter words at eachother, raming other boats, cutting nets, and running over nets. I’d never seen anything like it before so I was grinning and laughing from ear to ear. That is until the fish started to sink the net.

We had 6 crewman, including myself, picking the net. 6 people in one boat is a lot for a skiff, but we had so many fish in the net that every person was busy. Every boat that went by had all eyes on us. There were so many fish that we were standing almost knee deep in fish. I can honestly say that I caught more fish in just 1 hour than I have in my whole life. It was a trip! After the long day some of the guys took the last load of fish to the Thor to sell. I stayed behind and helped on the beach. The opener had closed and we were going to head home to Nush Point so catch a hot shower and tell stories to the night crew. I was thinking about hot chocolate and how good it would taste right about now. The long boat ride home wouldn’t be so bad with a cup of hot coco warming my tummy. Low and behold, one of the sweetest guys (you know who you are) brought me a cup of hot coco back from the Thor. It was the best hot coco I’d ever had.

My time at Nushagak Point went by too fast. It was one of the neatest most rewarding experiences I’d ever had. I will never forget the fish, the cold, the tides, and most of all, the people who I met and got to know.

That’s all for the moment. There will be more posts to come.

Salmon has been a major seafood commodity for people all over the world for decades. The fish has been served on salads, in pasta dishes, grilled to perfection, and stacked on crackers for appetizers. It’s complimented hot plates and set standards high for all other seafood delicates. However, most of America’s salmon dishes no longer fit the label of wild. Today, over 65% of the salmon consumed in the United States is farmed, and unfortunately this percent is rising. Fish hatcheries have been producing fish since the 1800′s, and have made some positive impacts. However it is obvious that farmed salmon are a negative substitute for wild salmon. 

The first Pacific Coast salmon hatchery was established in 1872 on the McCloud River in Northern California which was operated by the U.S. Fish Commission. Prior to that historic development that would change the face of fisheries world-wide, experiments with propagation started in 1862 by settlers and farmers. According to the Washington Department of Fish and Game, “Salmon hatcheries, through the use of controlled water flow, concrete, steel, and artificial diets, are a means of combating losses of fish life caused by environmental changes.” (“Salmon”) Fish are raised in holding ponds either made from net or concrete and are fed specific meals. By the year 1900, over 15 hatcheries were in operation in the state of Washington and 58,000,000 salmon fry had been released. All of which used the same methods of rearing. 

Salmon are raised in hatcheries until they are large enough to survive on their own in the wild. Until then, young fish are raised in large holding ponds and fed vitamin enriched meals. The meals consist of fish products such as tuna viscera, turbot, pasteurized salmon viscera, dogfish, and de-scaled pasteurized herring. Along with this meal there is a vitamin package. There are several different types of vitamins in this package such as ascorbic acid, Biotin, B12, E, folic acid, inosital menadine, niacin, pantothenic acid, thiamine, riboflavin, and several other chemicals. All of these vitamins and minerals allow each fish to grow and become strong enough to survive in the wild. It may seem beneficial to have healthy and strong fish released into the wild but in reality it’s detrimental. 

Even though these vitamins and chemicals are meant to help these fish grow and become fit enough to survive in the wild, there are some negative effects. Farmed salmon have a higher amount of PCB’s, known carcinogens, and other toxic chemicals in their flesh. These PCB’s are concentrated in the “ground up fish” that are fed to smolt, (baby salmon) in the holding pools. Once consumed the PCB’s are then stored in the salmon’s flesh, which in turn gives the meat a considerably different color than wild fish.  As a result, fish are given canthaxanthin, which gives the meat that bright orange color. According to Miriam Jacobs, a nutritionist and toxicologist at the University of Surrey claims that children and infants are more at risk when consuming these contaminants because their daily intake will be greater than an adult’s. Women who are pregnant and are considering breast-feeding should be careful because toxins tend to accumulate in breast milk. It is thought that if enough of these toxins are consumed, infants could have brain damage and also have trouble with vision. Ultimately, consuming farmed salmon has high risks, especially at a young age. It would take extreme amounts digested to really have an affect but these risks shouldn’t be over-looked and fish hatcheries need to take the initiative to find better and safer ways to raise fish. 

Human health is a small concern when it comes to farmed salmon. It’s the wild fish populations that shoulder the major effects. Farms are located in small bays and inlets, and typically support over 500,000 fish. These conditions provide perfect breeding grounds for the sea louse/lice. Sea lice are small parasites that attach themselves to salmon and feed on their blood. They’re similar to a tick feeding on a deer except, they feed on fish and thrive in the ocean. They’re a salt water organism, so freshwater rivers remain relatively lice free. Fish farms can harbor millions of sea lice at once. When smolt make their downstream run to the ocean they swim by these farms. It is then that they are bombarded by millions of lice. Smolt are usually the size of a triple-A battery when they reach the ocean, so just one sea lice can be deadly to a smolt. With these increased casualties, the numbers of returning salmon will be decreased dramatically. Before salmon farms, sea lice on salmon smolt had never before been documented. 

When farmed salmon are released from hatcheries, they go out to sea and then return with wild salmon to spawn. According to John Dentler and David Buchanan who wrote The Northwest Salmon Crisis, “Hatchery salmon are less genetically diverse than wild populations,”. Because of this inter-breeding between farmed and wild salmon causes off-spring to be more susceptible to diseases such as flexibacter columnaris. Inter-breeding also degrades the overall genetic purity of wild salmon. 

Because they are less “authentic” farmed salmon are bought and sold in greater numbers due to lower prices and easy access. As a result, they have dramatically impacted the wild salmon market in a negative way. Depending on which market, wild salmon is sold from $15-20/lb. A considerable amount more than farmed salmon which can be half that. It’s obvious which option consumers are going to choose. Bristol Bay, Alaska is home to the world’s largest wild Sockeye salmon run and a multi-million dollar commercial fishing industry. Today Bristol Bay’s fishery brings in over $325 million whereas in the late 80′s it was $800 million. In the 80′s farmed salmon supplied 2 percent of the world’s supply, then in 2004 it grew to 65 percent. Farmed salmon has caused several commercial fishermen to go out of business or has wiped out fisheries all together. The commercial fishery in Bristol Bay is the backbone for the people who live in that area. Without salmon, Bristol Bay would lose a major part of its identity. 

Commercial fishing boat in Bristol Bay, Alaska. Photo by: Camille Egdorf

Farmed salmon have helped wild fish numbers in different ways, but it’s obvious that the risks outweigh the benefits. Wild salmon genetics have been degraded, numbers have been decreased, sea lice infestations have been increased, diseases have gone rampant, markets have been corrupted, and problems with health are possible. The wild salmon populations in the lower forty eight have diminished to almost non-existent. It is important that the government and the citizens of the U.S. work together to protect one of the world’s natural wonders. According to Nick Jans, writer for USA Today, “Wild Alaska salmon remains one of the last abundant, relatively pure and wild foods available. Why on earth should we weaken our economy and threaten a precious natural resource-all so we can eat an imported, inferior substitute?” Those words should be considered by everyone regardless if they eat salmon or not. Instead of eating a chemical enhanced piece of trash, choose a pure and wild piece of goodness. Wild salmon are one of the world’s natural wonders because they return year after year to spawn in the same rivers in which they were born. They feed all the wildlife of the Pacific Northwest, such as bears, eagles, birds, and locals who rely on them for subsistence. To use and produce a substitute for these amazing creatures is foolish and will assist in the extinction of salmon all together. 

Photo by: Mike Caranci

Due to all these problems and current issues it is obvious that farmed salmon are a negative substitute for wild salmon. People should recognize these problems and do everything possible to support wild fisheries, which in the end would not only complement the plate but also benefit the commercial fisheries, the wild fish economy, subsistence living, and ultimately wild salmon themselves. When people go to the store to buy salmon, instead of grabbing the nearest package of salmon, people should check the label to make sure it’s wild, and if anything else just ask for it. Farmed salmon are a negative substitute for wild salmon and the more people who know this, the better off everyone will be in the end. 

Salmon and Salmon Hatcheies

Milstein, Michael. ” PCB test pits farmed salmon vs. wild.” Environmental Working Group. 29 July, 2003. 19 April, 2009. <http://www.ewg.org>. 

“The price of salmon.” PAN. March 2001. 19 April, 2009. <http://www.pan-uk.org>. 

” Purdue food expert: Benefits of farmed salmon outweigh risks.” Purdue News. January 2004. 27 April, 2009.<http://news.uns.purdue.edu>. 

. Olympia: Washington Department of Fisheries, 1977.  

Every fly fisherman shares a passion and obsession when it comes to catching fish. Both are portrayed in telling stories (along with a few lies), and when the hopeful fisherman steps into the brisk, clear water of a flowing river. ‘No Sports Allowed,’ is a humerous, passionate, and enthusiastic film about a group of Idaho fish hounds who all share the same love for a quiet sport. With plenty of bent rods, smiles, and of course hungry Idahoian trout, the film has a knack for sparking a “I want to fish now” mind set. Be prepared to experience great fish-catching action, some good humor, and a life style belonging to a group of goofy Idaho fly fishing guides. It’s how they do, and they do it well.