It is long past time for me to conclude my three-part recap of the 2024 salmon year. After all, by this time of year, a fish person like me can almost smell the 2025 return. One reason I have delayed this recap is because I have been busy working with people who are readying their boats, gear, and businesses in preparation for the fishery. As usual, when it comes to fishing, I am too busy looking forward to look backward. It is likely a learned defensive mechanism to avoid thinking about what could have been the season before to embrace the season to come.

I recall arriving at the Cassiar cannery on the banks of the Skeena River in the late spring of 1980 after the long drive from Vancouver. I was tired, nervous, and far, far from home in more ways than the distance travelled. Walking the boardwalk and docks, trying to stay out of the way of trucks moving boats, the forklifts careening around taking nets in and out of the net loft, hordes of people disembarking from the train, families in tow; there was a sense of excitement and anticipation that I could not identify. Only later would I come to recognize it as sockeye fever. People could sense the natural rhythm of the salmon return. They, and soon me, were being swept up in something much larger than our limited human existence, bound to something much greater than ourselves.

I am still infected by sockeye fever as we move into late spring with salmon on the horizon. So it is a challenge to tear myself away to write about what was in 2024. But I think it is important to review what went on in 2024 because the world of salmon and salmon management is undergoing profound change due to the climate crisis, development, changes in fisheries, and new understandings of the relationships between them. As I said in the first section of my three-part recap, we need to avoid getting trapped by shifting baselines. We need to try to put each year in a larger historical context to understand where we have come from, and where we are going within our deep relationship with salmon.

The first part of my three-part recap discussed general themes in the management, catch, and conservation of B.C.’s salmon populations. The second took a close look at north and central south coast returns. This final recap looks at South Coast returns.

Before I begin, I want to address the fair criticism that I have failed to speak to the benefits that have come from the removal of salmon farms around northern Vancouver Island. The reason I have not is that it is still too early to say anything with confidence. We need to see several more years of wild returns. Having said this, there is a large body of peer-reviewed research documenting the negative impact of fish farms on wild salmon, and there are some very encouraging signs that removal of the farms is producing significant benefits, the amount of work that went into removing them was worth it, and the decision to remove them was correct. I will speak to this more when I review the mainland inlets.

It was a reasonable year for most of the east coast of Vancouver Island compared to the last fifteen or so years. As I explored in the first part of my 2024 recap, we need to guard against measuring recent years returns against the last couple of decades. We can fall into the trap of thinking everything is fine when the returns are very poor compared to sixty or seventy years (15 sockeye generations) ago, and terrible compared to pre-contact times.

Marina in Campbell River

There were dramatic improvements in pink salmon returns to the mainland inlets. I can hardly remember the last time I saw such large escapements to these systems. Was this due to the removal of the fish farms? While the mainland inlets saw strong returns, other northern Vancouver Island streams also did very well. Many saw two to three times, or more, of their average generational return in 2024. The Adam River saw a return of almost 600,000, nearly double the average return over the past three odd-numbered years. The Quinsam alone saw an escapement of over 1.2 million pink salmon. But in recent years, the mainland inlet streams did not respond to the same degree when environmental conditions favoured ECVI pinks. Something appears to have changed for the better. We may, indeed, be seeing the benefits of removing fish farms. It was also encouraging that the mainland inlets saw improved chum returns in 2024.

Chinook salmon returns on the north part of the island were mixed. These populations are wild as opposed to the largely hatchery-produced runs seen on the southern portions of the island. The Campbell/Quinsam indicator chinook stock was well below its biological target. These populations are encountered in the large guide-outfitter and public recreational fishery in the Salish Sea. The lack of verifiable monitoring of catches and releases, including identifying the stock composition of the catch, compounded by poor estimates of how many released chinook survive to spawn, makes it impossible to provide an accurate assessment of the status of these wild chinook populations, or whether harvest may be hampering their recovery.

Coho salmon

Coho returns varied between very good and disappointing. Keogh River and Black Creek are indicator stocks for wild coho. Keogh River had a disappointing return, while the return to Black Creek was significantly above average. Quinsam hatchery production was also well above average. These returns are consistent with reports of coho abundance in all marine areas.

The Salish Sea appears to be in a productive cycle, benefiting local coho production. Encounters in the guide/outfitter and public fisheries were the best since 1997, but still well behind what they were in the late mid-1980s to early 1990s. Coho fisheries in the Strait of Georgia are managed as mark-select fisheries: only hatchery-marked fish can be retained. It is unclear how effective this management strategy is for balancing the protection of wild coho while at the same time enhancing harvest opportunities for the guide/outfitter and public fisheries because there is little verifiable data on compliance, retained catch, releases, stock composition, and the proportion of releases that survive to spawn.

The reader will note I mention the lack of verifiable data in all guide/outfitter and public recreational fishers and might ask, ‘why isn’t it available?’ If it is available in other commercial troll salmon fisheries, as well as B.C.’s halibut and groundfish fisheries, why isn’t it available for what is now one of B.C.’s largest, and certainly most valuable, salmon fisheries? You will have to ask the Sport Fishing Institute or the Department of Oceans and Fisheries, as I have been unable to understand why they refuse to manage this fishery according to internationally accepted best practices that Canada has agreed to.

As in the northern parts of the east coast of Vancouver Island, pink salmon returns were very strong in southern parts of the island. The Oyster River saw 10 times its average return with 245,000 pink salmon returning to spawn. The Qualicum River saw a return of about 40,000 pink salmon; just over double its average odd-year return.

Coho returns to most of southern Vancouver Island appeared to be about average. Coho encounters (retained catch and reported releases) in guide/outfitter and public recreational fisheries were excellent again this year. Whatever is contributing to the salmon-friendly environment in the Salish Sea is clearly positive for coho. Wild coho caught in the Salish Sea belong to populations from the central coast to Washington. However, much of the abundance is due to hatchery production in B.C. and Washington.

Spawning pink salmon

Chinook escapements were about average compared to their recent averages. But this fails to capture the story for Cowichan chinook. They returned, as they have since about 2017, well above their escapement goal. Cowichan chinook benefit from being ‘ocean-type’ chinook in that they return to the ocean as fry not long after hatching in the spring.

Ocean-type chinook are, in general, doing much better throughout their range than are ‘stream-type’, which rear in fresh water for a year before going to sea. It is fascinating to note that ocean and stream-type chinook are thought to have evolved from different refugia during the last ice age. As the ice retreated, they became locally adapted. Most returns to Vancouver Island and coast areas are ocean-type, and are of Cascadia-Columbia origin, while most stream-types, such as those returning to the interior of B.C., are of Beringia origin. Their different origins may be contributing to their ability, or lack thereof, to adapt to climate change.

Back to the discussion of Cowichan chinook. Cowichan chinook face the same challenges as many other island chinook populations—development, pinniped predation, climate change, habitat degradation—but appear to be doing much better. It is not entirely clear why. Studies have shown they spend a lot of time in the estuary environment once they leave the river and the Cowichan Roundtable, along with local First Nations, have invested a lot of energy remediating this critical habitat. Another thing I have noticed in many populations of varied species around B.C. that appear to be doing better than their peers, is that they often spawn and rear in streams that have some form of flow control, be it natural or enhanced. This is purely an anecdotal observation, so don’t read too much into it. However, the one thing you can take away from this discussion on Cowichan chinook is we should all avoid the easy scapegoating when it comes to salmon. We are too quick to blame one fishery or another, seal predation, or some specific development. Or even worse, throw up our hands and say salmon are doomed due to climate change, when the issues—and solutions—are much more complex, requiring a deeper understanding of the limiting factors to recovery.

Chum salmon returns to the southern island were encouraging after several years of poor returns. All major systems saw improved returns, above both the forecast and what returned between 2017 and 2024. Except for the mixed-stock Johnstone Strait seine fishery, there were only modest catches in local fisheries such as Nanaimo, Cowichan, and Goldstream.

There were encouraging reports from diehard steelhead anglers that there were better numbers of steelhead in many areas of Vancouver Island than they had seen for many years.

Spawning sockeye salmon

The Somass (Barkley Sound) sockeye return was within its forecast range of 500,000-700,000. The total catch was about 290,000 sockeye, with an escapement of around 400,000. Most of the escapement was to Great Central Lake, followed by Sproat Lake and Henderson. The Henderson Lake return was poor: between its lower and upper biological benchmarks. I like flagging this as it is evidence of how progressive the Somass fishery is compared to most other B.C. fisheries. First Nations, DFO, and stakeholders have incorporated Wild Salmon Policy principles into the management of the fishery. This allows them to note the less than desirable return to Henderson in 2024, the well-above-target harvest rate for the stock, and hopefully be able to take advantage of this information in future management actions.

The status of other West Coast Vancouver Island sockeye stocks ranges from moderate to very depleted (e.g. Kennedy Lake).

WCVI hatchery chinook returns were mixed, with Robertson Creek returning above average (106,000 versus 90,000), Nitinat below average (21,000 versus 24,000), and Conuma with a well above average return of 62,000 compared to an average of 37,000.

Wild returns to WCVI differ by geography. The northern half of WCVI has seen improving returns since 2012 and these have remained above their lower biological benchmark since 2015. Wild returns to the southern half of WCVI have been below their lower biological benchmark for 30 years and show little sign of improvement. Please note how DFO and First Nations on WCVI, unlike most of the rest of B.C., actively incorporate Wild Salmon Policy principles within their management structure.

There are indications that chum stock status may be slowly improving after several poor years. It may be a sign that the improving ocean conditions are also helping WCVI chums.

Coho stock status was variable. Escapements have remained steady but this does not speak to their abundance. Current harvest rates are low compared to what they historically were. This suggests coho productivity remains poor even though escapements have remained somewhat steady. This is a reminder to avoid using escapements as the only indicator of stock status. It is important to have data on both escapements and catch to understand current abundance relative to longer-term trends.

It was another dismal year for Fraser sockeye. The chart below provides the minimum escapement objective for each run timing group, the final spawning estimates, what the Fraser Panel estimated the return would be pre-season and in-season, and how 2024 compares to the brood and cycle years. It is difficult not to be depressed over the status of Early Stuart and Late Summer sockeye.

The Heart of the Fraser

In-season water temperatures and flows were again challenging for Fraser sockeye. The Pacific Salmon Commission’s Fraser River Panel modified their in-season run size estimate to adjust for expected increased migratory mortality. I note that the long-term weather forecast suggests we might expect similar challenges for 2025 Fraser sockeye.

The 2025 Summer return was complicated by the Chilcotin River landslide. Just less than half the sockeye returning to the areas affected by the landslide survived to reach the spawning grounds. A high proportion of these were males. The area remains geomorphically unstable. There is the potential for additional slides in 2025 and beyond. Chilko sockeye are expected to contribute up to 50 per cent of the 2025 Fraser sockeye return. This uncertainty, I am sure, will weigh on the minds of managers who are charged with conducting mixed-stock fisheries on these populations weeks before the fish arrive, where any slide might, or might not, occur.

IUU (Illegal, Unreported, and Unregulated) fisheries on the lower Fraser remain a significant concern for chinook and sockeye stocks of concern. For chinook, the mortality is not only due to direct illegal harvest impacts but also from ‘drop-outs’ from smaller meshed gillnets used to illegally harvest sockeye. Researchers have called these drop-outs ‘dead fish swimming’ as a very high proportion do not survive to spawn. This is a politically charged issue that DFO appears unwilling to tackle. But I note, that after years of pressure, DFO is taking baby steps towards accounting for this mortality in their assessments.

Fraser River coho escapements have shown some improvement in recent years. However, catches remain poor, indicating only a modest improvement in overall status. Under the Pacific Salmon Treaty, limits on fishing mortalities can be increased by a significant amount. This is worrisome because, under the Treaty, the US is permitted a much larger increase in allowable catch than Canada. Further, Canada has little influence (unlike in domestic fisheries) on US management actions. This will complicate the management of Fraser River coho going forward.

Salmon carcasses piled on the side of a road along the Fraser.

Fraser River chum salmon is the largest chum salmon return in British Columbia. The 2024 chum return was 1.126 million, exceeding the 800,000 escapement goal. The Fraser River gillnet fishery for chums remains closed under the long-term Pacific Salmon Strategy Initiative (PSSI) closures. The seine fleet only sent out one boat and it did not fish due to the late timing of the opening.

Thompson/Chilcotin steelhead returns saw an uptick in spawner escapements in 2024. Thompson steelhead are in the lower echelons of the ‘Conservation Concern’ management zone, in contrast to the ‘Extreme Conservation Concern’ zone they have occupied in recent years. Chilcotin steelhead remain in the ‘Extreme Conservation Concern’ zone. Steelhead are known to be encountered in commercial chum fisheries. They may have benefitted from the absence of Fraser River chum gillnet fisheries in 2024.

You might think I am some sort of salmon guru to be able to provide my comprehensive recaps. I wish I could accept any praise. But all such thanks should go to DFO and First Nations’ managers, scientists, and researchers who provide annual post-season reports. Any mistakes, errors, or omissions land on my shoulders.