Scientists already know that climate change is pushing species into unfamiliar territory.

While the movement of plants and terrestrial life is visible, what about those changes that take place under the surface?

Using the technique of gene sequencing, scientists are now able to paint a much fuller picture of which marine species are where, simply by testing the water.

The capture of eDNA or ‘environmental DNA’ is a new technique already being employed by Canada’s Department of Fisheries and Oceans to keep track of species, both native and invasive.

The practice, used in Canada since around 2013, is helping environmental managers get a more accurate sense of what species live in or migrate through a specific region and — rather than relying on difficult, expensive and, at-times, flawed use of by-catch or radar techniques — the capture of eDNA is as simple as tipping a cup off the side of your boat.

Because of this, eDNA represents a potential boon for the practice of citizen science. Anyone with a little instruction and a clean plastic vessel can technically collect samples representing major research value to scientists back at the lab.

In the fall of 2017 I had the opportunity to photograph scientists traveling with the C3 expedition as they gathered water samples for eDNA analysis along the B.C. coast.

As the team gathers samples, scientist Amy Tabata notes the boat’s GPS coordinates. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

The collection of eDNA allows laboratories to study marine life in a laboratory setting without killing animals for research purposes and without removing (most) creatures from the water. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

DNA gathered from marine environments can be used to determine biodiversity within a specific region, including information on terrestrial animals interaction with the water’s edge nearby. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Scientist Brian Hunt collects samples in the rainy Broughton. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Samples collected during the C3 expedition are a part of one of the largest eDNA surveys undertaken in Canada’s history. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Scientists with the C3 mission gathered water samples from nearly 100 sites along the Atlantic, Arctic and Pacific coasts. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Peter Van Buren, a member of the C3 expedition and an oceanographic technician at the Institute of Ocean Sciences in Sidney, B.C., conducts water sampling. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Amy Tabata uses molecular genetics in her work at the Pacific Biological Station for Fisheries and Oceans Canada, where she studies the impacts of disease and the environment on salmon and other fish. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Participants in the C3 eDNA sampling effort are compiling important baseline data on biodiversity along the Canadian coast. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

A look at one water sample gathered in the Broughton through a microscope. The gathering of eDNA can be used to identify species shift due to climate change, the presence of predators and prey in a region and the introduction of invasive species. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Capture of an organism found in a water sample gathered in the Broughton. This photo was taken using a iPhone and a microscope. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Water samples gathered from along B.C.’s coastline may be used to further understand the impact of fish farming on wild salmon stocks. The Broughton Archipelago is home to numerous operations where Atlantic salmon — considered an invasive species on the Pacific coast — are farmed. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Oceanographic technician Peter Van Buren strikes a pose at the famed Lacey Falls of Tribune Channel. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Scientists Brian Hunt and Peter Van Buren. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

Scientists say a robust catalogue of what species belong where in Canadian waters is long overdue. Baseline data on species can aid Canada’s marine science community in understanding how invasive species are being introduced into new regions, where they persist and what effect they’re having. Photo: Taylor Roades / C3

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.

For the first time in 11,000 years there’s nobody living in Namu, British Columbia.

But when Heiltsuk hereditary chief Harvey Humchitt steps ashore, he’s greeted within a minute by a hardhat-wearing site supervisor.

“Did you see the sign?” he asks the group, haughtily. Visitors are prohibited due to safety concerns, and large signs warning trespassers away loom over the landing sites.

Chief Humchitt simply smiles genially as he is introduced to the man — this is, after all, his traditional territory. He is free to do as he pleases here, a site where he grew up as his father fished the waters nearby.

Located on British Columbia’s central coast about 35 kilometres southeast of Bella Bella, in the Great Bear Rainforest, Namu has been a place of cultural significance for local First Nations people for as long as records, memories and oral histories reach back.

But now Namu sits abandoned with buildings full of asbestos sagging, rusting fuel tanks sitting askew on rotting plank floors, old batteries and engine parts spilling out of an engineering shed into the water below.

The first fish cannery opened in Namu in 1893. By 1923 the facility had been purchased by B.C. Packers, one of the most dominant fishing companies in the province, and Namu was transformed into a complex of salmon and herring processing plants, warehouses, a power plant and three distinct camps dividing Indigenous, white and Japanese workers and their families.

Men, women and children navigated the maze of structures along boardwalks interconnecting daily life with one of B.C.’s most bustling aquaculture hubs.

Diminishing salmon stocks led to the Namu cannery being closed in 1970 and the remote town has long since fallen into disrepair. Yet a more proactive approach to revitalizing salmon runs has renewed interest in Namu and what can be done to eliminate the hazardous waste that sits at the mouth of a productive salmon spawning river.

Humchitt worked in Namu in the 1960s alongside many other Heiltsuk people and today, he and his nation are working with the provincial and federal governments to clean up Namu and re-establish a community there.  

Humchitt said Namu, left in the wake of a boom and bust mentality, contains a lesson.

“Any type of developments that take place should include local people,” he said, “and it should be in a sustainable manner. That way it would ensure that the community of a place like Namu would be revitalized and it would ensure continuous community development.”

All photos by Taylor Roades / Canada C3

The Narwhal’s reporters are telling environment stories you won’t read about anywhere else. Stay in the loop by signing up for our free weekly dose of independent journalism.