Puget Sound salmon have no chance unless we push for a bigger investment
There’s good news and bad news about the health of Puget Sound.
The good news, according to a report from the federal Environmental Protection Agency, is that the increase in the number marine species at risk between 2011 and 2015 was smaller than the increase documented between 2008 and 2011.
That’s pretty weak good news. And the bad news is: “Despite these improvements, the total number of marine species at risk in the Salish Sea has doubled from 2002 to 2015.”
There is even worse news: A 2021 State of the Salish Sea Report says bluntly: “When the effects of global change in our oceans are combined with the increasing disruption from local urbanization, the Salish Sea estuarine ecosystem will continue to degrade. Forecasting and planning related to these changes is a challenge for the coming decades.”
A seven-year, $40 million analysis of what happens to young salmon when they leave their rivers and enter Puget Sound found that the two biggest causes of mortality are changes in their food supply and a dramatic increase in predators such as seals, whose population has increased sevenfold in the last couple of decades. Next on the list are degraded river estuaries, nearshore marine habitats that don’t support fish survival, and toxic contamination near urban areas.
The EPA report piles on with news about more problems we don’t even understand yet: “Plastics, especially microplastics, are an emerging threat to the environment due to their prevalence, persistence and ability to transport and release other pollutants. More research is needed to fully understand the impact of plastics and other emerging chemical groups.”
This is alarming to all of us, but to local tribes, whose identity depends on their relationship with salmon, it is a matter of life and death.
The Nisqually Tribe and its allies have made great progress in restoring the health of their river and its tributaries, and they have the advantage of living in a non-urban watershed. But when Nisqually River fish enter Puget Sound, their survival rate plummets.
David Troutt, the Nisqually Tribe’s Natural Resources Director, says, “In 1987, we had 105 days of fishing. In 2015, we had eight.” This year, he says, “It will probably be nine, maybe 12; 15 max.”
Tribal chair Willie Frank III says, “It’s about our way of life. We need to get our nets in the water or lose our culture. Setting that net is like going to church for us.”
Frank worries that shrinking opportunities to fish are leading to more deaths of young tribal members from drugs and alcohol. Being cut off from the spiritual foundation of their heritage can be fatal.
Still, both Troutt and Frank are stubbornly optimistic.
“The energy and commitment of lots of dedicated people is remarkable,” Troutt says.
He’s right about that; there is a huge “recovery community” that spans the whole of Puget Sound and the rivers that flow into it. It includes an alphabet soup of federal, state, tribal and local government agencies, research institutions, scientists, nonprofits, and thousands of citizen volunteers.
The problems are speed and scale. For instance, a 2003 overhaul of the state Shoreline Management Act required the state Department of Ecology to rewrite its rules to achieve no net loss of shoreline integrity. Once that 100-page document was complete, it required local jurisdictions to rewrite local rules to be in compliance with it. Now, 18 years later, Ecology has approved local rules for 220 out of 260 local jurisdictions. Achieving net gains in ecological function remains voluntary; all this time and effort is directed at just keeping conditions from getting worse.
Lack of adequate funding also is a huge barrier to increasing the pace of restoration enough to outpace degradation. Washington’s State of the Salmon Report for 2020 says “The cost of implementing habitat-related elements identified in regional salmon recovery plans for 2010-2019 is $4.7 billion in capital costs. As of today, only $1 billion has been invested, or just under 22 percent of the need — a funding rate that will not achieve recovery.”
Funding was improved by the 2021 legislature, especially for removing culverts that block salmon habitat. This year’s budget was fattened with federal COVID-19 recovery money, and it remains to be seen if improvements can be sustained.
But funding also depends on what voters demand. How much do we care? How hard will we push? What are we willing to do to help?
Here in Thurston County, will we keep the health of Puget Sound and its estuaries in mind as we consider the future of Capitol Lake?
The current state of salmon and Puget Sound seems tragic and overwhelming. But as David Troutt says, “We can’t lose hope. If we lose hope, the salmon don’t have a chance.”