Salmon Fishing Ban Considered
Dwindling runs on the Klamath prompt a proposal to put 700
miles of coast off limits.
By Eric Bailey, Times Staff Writer
March 4, 2006
SACRAMENTO — Federal regulators are considering an
unprecedented ocean fishing ban on Chinook salmon along 700 miles of
California and Oregon coast, threatening to spread distress from beleaguered
commercial fleets to family dinner tables.
The Pacific Fishery Management Council meets next week in Seattle to recommend
how the federal government should tackle a problem caused by plummeting
commercial salmon stocks on the troubled Klamath River.
Biologists have warned for years that a combination of warm and
low-flowing waters in the once mighty Klamath — at one time among the
nation's most productive salmon-producing rivers — would cause the highly
prized Chinook runs to plummet.
Commercial fishermen heaped blame Friday on the Bush administration for
managing the river in a way they contend favors farmers, dam operators and
timber companies at the expense of fish.
"The federal government has done absolutely nothing to help, and
fishermen are angry," said Zeke Grader, executive director of the Pacific
Coast Federation of Fishermen's Assns. "It's almost like they created
this Klamath situation to make them look competent on Katrina."
Jason Peltier, a U.S. Interior Department deputy assistant secretary, called
the potential fishing curtailment "devastating news" but defended
the Bush administration's stewardship of the Klamath.
"There're been an awful lot of mud thrown at us" over the Klamath
River, Peltier said, suggesting that a turnaround will not be produced by
"that sort of finger-pointing" and that U.S. officials remain
hopeful the river's ills can be healed.
During an average year, salmon fishing in California and Oregon is a
$150-million industry. The commercial mainstay is the silver-sided Chinook
that return each fall from the sea to spawn and are sold in supermarkets as
king salmon.
Experts say a commercial ban, one of three options that the Pacific Fishery
Management Council will weigh, could put hard-hit coastal fishing fleets
financially underwater and prompt consumer price jumps and scrawny
inventories.
The targeted area stretches from northern Oregon to California's historic
Point Sur lighthouse, just south of Carmel.
Fishermen, who normally fish for salmon six months of the year beginning in
the spring, say they expect at the very least to see their season shortened to
just a few weeks because of the latest troubles on the Klamath.
The river, which emerges from the snowmelt of the Cascade Range in Oregon and
dashes south into California before emptying in the sea north of Eureka, has
for several years been the trouble spot for salmon on the Pacific Coast.
While the Sacramento River last year rebounded to produce one of its biggest
salmon returns in decades, the Klamath has endured an epic drought and fiery
water war between farmers and environmentalists in 2001, and a massive die-off
of returning adult Chinook in fall 2002, when by some counts more than 70,000
fish rotted on the banks.
But an ecological tragedy that didn't hit the headlines has caused the current
rash of problems, biologists say. During spring 2002 and again the next year,
more than 80% of the juvenile fish returning to sea from the Klamath succumbed
to a parasite scientists blame on a combination of low river flows, pollution
and warmer water.
The parasite, C. shasta, thrives inside river-bottom worms. Of late,
scientists say, the worm populations have ballooned in the main reaches of the
Klamath.
Part of the problem is less springtime water because of upstream irrigation
diversions for farmers, biologists say.
But the biggest factor is a series of about half a dozen dams on the Klamath
that have so quieted the natural turbulence of springtime flows that
river-bottom gravels aren't being churned up, allowing the growth of algae
where the worms can thrive.
In addition, runoff from farming, ranching and logging have combined with
warmer water to fuel the algae proliferation — and thus produce more worms
and parasites.
Small fish pick up the parasites on their way out to sea, succumbing silently
in the ocean depths.
"When adult fish wash up on the beach, it's a strong visual. But when the
little fish struggle and die because of some parasite in the river, it's
harder to observe," said Chuck Tracy, the management council's salmon
expert. "But that is what happened."
Aside from spawning anger among fishermen, the potential ban
could spill over into ongoing discussions on the renewal of federal
hydropower licenses for the Klamath River dams.
Environmentalists, Indian tribes that depend on salmon, fishermen and others
are engaged in closed-door talks with power generators and the federal
government over the possibility of removing at least a few of the dams.
"I'm very optimistic something good is going to
emerge," said Ron Reed, a cultural biologist for the Karuk Tribe, whose
members fish the Klamath as their ancestors did, with nets made of hooped
tree boughs. "All the information being gathered would seem to support
dam removal."
Not even the most dramatic steps will help this year.
The fisheries council is expected next week to select three alternatives,
ranging from a restricted season to an outright ban, then hold hearings
later this month, and in April make a final recommendation to the National
Marine Fisheries Service.
A decision to ban fishing would have to be approved by U.S. Commerce
Secretary Carlos M. Gutierrez.
The Klamath's woes have in recent years put a black cloud over what should
have been a time of bountiful harvests from the sea, fishermen say.
The Sacramento River last year saw a run of about 400,000 fish, roughly 10
times the Klamath's production. The dwindling numbers returning to the
Klamath prompted regulators to cut the fishing season for California roughly
in half.
While salmon return dutifully to the stream where they were spawned, in the
ocean the fish commingle with salmon from countless other tributaries.
Despite the plentiful run in the Sacramento River, the possibility exists
that fishermen could snag Klamath salmon, which are virtually
indistinguishable from their southern cousins.
Biologists estimate the Klamath needs at least 35,000 returning fish each
year, but expect the total this year to barely reach 30,000.
Mike Becker, captain of a 47-foot commercial fishing boat out of Newport,
Ore., said many of his peers are already out looking for jobs on the land.
"There won't be enough of a season to break even," he lamented.
"If we get three or four weeks, which I think it'll come down to, you
can't make enough to pay your expenses."