2005 news releases

It's time to save Quinsam steelhead
Courier-Islander (Campbell River)
Fri 30 Sep 2005
Page: C1 / Front
Section: Outdoors & Adventure
Byline: Neil Cameron
Column: Cameron's Plaid
Source: Courier-Islander

In the 1930s, a Conservation Officer looked over one of about four or five cascades in the Quinsam River and the salmon stacked up below it, unable to continue their journey upstream.

He recommended blasting a passageway of some kind which would allow the salmon to continue. It never happened and, since then, the annual migration of salmon and steelhead into the upper reaches of the Quinsam during low water events has been curtailed.

How deleterious that blockage was to the overall health of the river, surrounding flora and fauna and its salmonid stocks, is difficult to gauge completely. It wasn't good, surely, and several kilometers of prime spawning and rearing water went to waste.

In fact in the 1970s pink salmon returns to the Quinsam dropped from an annual range of 100,000 to a mere 5,000 and today winter steelhead numbers have dropped to about 100 fish.

The Quinsam River Hatchery was able to rebuild the pink salmon runs to about 100,000 but, because of the cascades - parts of the river that only have an inch or so of water flowing over the bedrock for several feet - those pinks were relegated to crowded conditions in the lower part of the river.
As for the steelhead, some of which used to traverse the Quinsam system and actually enter the Iron River, that is another story. It is safe to say that those stretches of river were vital to steelhead spawning but, without the nutrient input of the salmon carcasses, rearing for juvenile steelhead became precarious.

Then enter a consortium of sorts who could see the writing on the wall.
DFO, BC Hydro, TimberWest, the Pacific Salmon Foundation, the Haig-Brown Institute and others decided to do a study on the impacts of the cascades. In June of 2004 fisheries consultant Dave Burt, who did the study, echoed that conservation officer's thoughts of the upper river from the 1930s.

"There's tremendous production potential," he said. "It's excellent habitat, there's a lot of complexity, there's lots of wood debris in the river. There's pool habitat and riffles. Those are the prime locations that fish like to spawn in. The pools provide the holding habitat for the adults when they're waiting to spawn. There's lots and lots of potential."

In fact Burt was probably even more emphatic. Armed as he was with better data and technological equipment, he estimated that the 14 kilometers of river above the cascades could support 20,000 pairs of spawning pinks.
"The spawning habitat I'm seeing now is far superior to anything that's in the lower river where most of the fish spawn," he said. "We're seeing coho throughout, there's trout fry, there's good size cutthroats in the pools.
"You've got a long stretch of river with a high potential to support all species of fish."

And so the work was done. They carved out a slot around and through one cascade and then carved and built another downstream. And the fish came. Thousands of pinks found their way to the fishways and a helicopter check for distribution and numbers last week revealed pinks all though the upper area, starting to spawn on every riffle and gravel throughout about 30-some kilometers of river.

The plan had worked. But not only had it worked, it worked quickly, effectively and at what could only be described as nominal cost - about $60,000.

"Probably the best thing we've done for salmon in the whole watershed," said Dave Ewart, Hatchery Manager.

Actually the project could have even more benefits for the community than first thought. For instance, the extra spawners could help the hatchery save money.

"The way I look at it, if we can get 40,000 or 50,000 or a 100,000 pinks up here and we get seven million or eight million pink fry instead of one million every year, then we don't need to be doing as many pink fry at the hatchery," Ewart said. "We can let this do it for us."

That could be good, or that could be bad. With DFO's seeming penchant for continued budget cuts for hatcheries, one would hope the saved money and resources could be diverted to other programs instead of being relegated into future budget reductions.

Another plus for the project could be the positive effect it will have on steelhead stocks. The winter steelhead of the Quinsam were renowned and brought anglers from all over during the November-to-March main returns. It was a world-class fishery and Christmas or New Year's Day on the Quinsam was part of a Campbell River tradition that has been lost.

Sadly, with only 100 fish returning last year, it is unlikely the run can rebuild itself - no matter how much we improve the upstream sections of the river.
The problem undoubtedly revolves around funding and the propensity of the provincial and federal government to agree to disagree at the expense of the resource.

Steelhead are a provincial concern, the hatchery is a federal facility. So who pays and who makes the decision for a Quinsam steelhead enhancement program is sadly caught up in a bureaucratic tangle that only common sense, co-operation and a true passion to do what is right will fix.

Of course there are those who believe that running a steelhead enhancement program may prove fruitless because of poor ocean survival, especially for East Coast Vancouver Island streams.

But, following their thinking, how ridiculous is it to think that 100 fish are going to rebuild the stock if they too are threatened with poor ocean survival?

The time is now to save what is left of the Quinsam steelhead. It would probably take only $20,000 for an annual program - an amount that would be easily returned to the local economy through steelhead tags ($25 per), regular fresh water licences and the spin-off from visiting anglers.
And timing is crucial. With 100 fish returning, the genetic diversity available for a broodstock program is still there. But once these fish begin their final swim into oblivion those numbers will drop and so too will the chances of a healthy enhancement program.

So, in the end, who cares if you fix a river if there's nothing to fish for or the river is closed to fishing with the faint and foolish hope that some day, somehow, the fish will magically return?