ESA listing
no
boon to sockeye
Idaho’s
endangered salmon
population continues to slip
By GREG
STAHL
Express Staff Writer
In the fall
of 1992, a lone, red-colored salmon arrived in the Sawtooth Valley near
Stanley after completing a 900-mile journey from the Pacific that forced
him to climb man-made fish ladders, skirt eight concrete dams and gain
7,000 feet in elevation.
Former
Idaho Gov. Cecil Andrus helps release Idaho’s first batch of
hatchery-raised sockeye salmon in 1993 at Redfish Lake. Express Photo:
Willy Cook
Lonesome
Larry, as the single sockeye salmon was dubbed, had heeded one of nature’s
strongest calls—that of spawning and perpetuating his species’
existence. But when he arrived in Central Idaho, he was the only sockeye
to complete the journey. Natural reproduction, that year, would have to
wait.
Ten years
ago this month since Northwest sockeye salmon were thrust into the nation’s
spotlight as an endangered species. And it’s been 10 years since a
myriad of mitigating regulations and programs were implemented by varying
state and federal agencies to at least help sustain sockeye populations
while more permanent solutions to the species’ decline are sought.
Annual
sockeye salmon migrations to Idaho from the Pacific once numbered in the
tens of thousands. By 1988, only four fish completed the 900-mile journey,
and in 1990, zero sockeye returned to Idaho.
Including
Lonesome Larry, just 11 sockeye salmon completed the 900-mile migration
from the Pacific Ocean to the Sawtooth Valley’s Redfish Lake between
1992 and 1997. Since 1997, another 291 returned.
"It’s
nowhere near recovery levels," said Idaho Department of Fish and Game’s
Sawtooth Hatchery manager, Brent Snider.
Fueled by
captive breeding and habitat preservation programs, sockeye have remained
on life support since their ESA listing. Captive breeding programs have
contributed to a handful of relatively encouraging returns, but most, if
not all, of the returning fish are hatchery-reared. Wild sockeye runs are
all but gone.
In 2000,
when 257 sockeye—all hatchery-born fish—returned to the Sawtooth
Valley, Fish and Game personnel were quick to qualify the success.
"To
treat this with a lot of optimism is not the way it should be
portrayed," said former Fish and Game fisheries biologist Dave
Cannamela. "We need lots of years of improved conditions, and we
cannot expect Mother Nature to improve conditions with these (Lower Snake
River and Columbia river) dams in place.
"The
real problem is still there. The artery still has the clogs in it. The
patient is still in the emergency room. When things go bad again, as we
know they will, we’ll be back to really bad—and even worse—shape."
Environmental
groups and many biologists are quick to point out that sockeye and other
anadromous fish declines are largely the result of four Lower Snake River
dams, which were built between 1961 and 1975. There are four more dams on
the lower Columbia River.
Sockeye
populations fluctuated considerably throughout the 20th
century, but took a sharp downward turn in the late-1970s, around the time
the Snake River dams were completed.
However,
the decline of sockeye, as well as chinook and choho salmon and steelhead
species in the Columbia and Salmon river basins, is due to a combination
of factors, according to a University of Washington report. In the
late-1800s and early 1900s, commercial fishermen took 80 percent of the
returning adult salmon. As a benchmark, in 1881 1,600 pounds of fresh
sockeye were harvested by prospectors at Alturas Lake in the Sawtooth
Valley.
Later silt
and other debris from over-grazing and logging operations began to clog up
spawning areas.
Finally,
the harnessing of hydroelectric power, considered a boon to the Pacific
Northwest’s economy, ultimately proved to be the last straw.
While
researchers estimate that between 5 and 10 percent of adult salmon heading
upriver die at each dam they must pass, it is the young salmon, called
smolts, that face the highest mortality rates as they drift on river
currents toward the Pacific in spring. An estimated 15 to 30 percent of
migrating smolts die at each dam they encounter, according to the Audubon
Society.
Also,
according to an extinction study released by Trout Unlimited last spring,
Snake and Columbia river salmon runs face genetic extinction in five to 31
years.
"The
findings of this study make clear that in spite of the recent high runs of
salmon, the future of the Snake River salmon is dim and is in fact fading
with every passing year, said Jeff Curtis, Western Conservation Director
for Trout Unlimited. "…Wild Snake River salmon are going to go
extinct in our lifetime if something doesn’t happen soon to turn around
their decline."
Meanwhile,
biologists are attempting to sustain the ailing population of sockeye
while more permanent fixes are sought.
Idaho Fish
and Game Biologist Paul Kline heads the state’s sockeye captive breeding
program.
"This
is still an ongoing experiment to see if captive brood stock can be used
to offset populations during horrible times, and we continue to learn new
things each year," he said. "We shouldn’t be trying to save
these fish right now. We can’t."
Kline said
the state’s captive breeding program is currently operating at capacity,
and shouldn’t increase in size quickly so the program doesn’t
overwhelm the numbers the natural system can support.
"We
could easily overwhelm the lakes if we weren’t careful," he said.
"The year we returned 257 adults, we actually exceeded our capacity.
We don’t plan to produce that many fish again."
Kline added
that his agency is struggling to maintain a healthy dose of genetic
diversity among sockeye populations. It’s a tall order in times when
wild fish returns are next to nothing.
"How
long can we keep this population closed in the hatchery without wild fish
coming back?," He asked. "I don’t know.
"It’s
an experiment. It’s not a full-fledged production-type program."