A court challenge is moving ahead that could potentially halt a proposal to double the size of Canada’s biggest container port, which sits on top of a sensitive estuary in Metro Vancouver.

Ecojustice, representing David Suzuki Foundation, Georgia Strait Alliance, Raincoast Conservation Foundation and the Wilderness Committee, will go to court later this year arguing the federal government contravened the Species at Risk Act in its approval of Roberts Bank Terminal 2 — a $3.5-billion proposed expansion of the existing Port of Vancouver in Delta, B.C. It operates in the Fraser estuary, which is integral for orcas and salmon.

Throughout a decade in the environmental assessment process, Roberts Bank Terminal 2 has faced opposition from municipalities, scientists, First Nations, community members, conservation groups, unions and even one of the port’s own tenants. 

The Vancouver Fraser Port Authority, a federal Crown corporation, received federal and provincial approval last year for the proposed expansion, which was a major milestone for the port authority in seeing Terminal 2 built. But the federal approval was swiftly met with two court challenges — one from Lummi Nation south of the Canada-U.S. border, pushing to be part of the assessment process, and the call by B.C. conservation groups for a judicial review. The challenges are expected to go to court back-to-back as early as June.

In response to the court challenge, the government and port authority called on the court to reject the conservation groups’ case and dismiss the application with costs.

With the future of the ecologically and economically significant estuary in the balance, here’s what you need to know.

Remind me, what does the Roberts Bank Terminal 2 expansion entail?

The Port of Vancouver currently sees $275 billion of trade pass through every year. The port is used to import goods like clothing, electronics and manufacturing parts from abroad, while exporting goods like pulp, lumber, coal and crops. The port includes four other sectors — cruise, automobiles, breakbulk and bulk — but the expansion only affects the container terminal.

The Vancouver Fraser Port Authority says its forecasts show more container capacity is needed. To meet the projected demand, it plans to build Roberts Bank Terminal 2. The project will widen the rail causeway leading to the port and build an artificial island about the size of 330 football fields to house three new berths, increasing container capacity on the West Coast by about 30 per cent and increasing the port’s container capacity by nearly 50 per cent. Put another way, it could handle an additional 2.4 million 20-foot shipping containers each year.

All of this work is planned for the Fraser River, which is the largest sockeye producing river in the world. 

Many First Nations, conservation groups and locals have long raised concerns about the environmental impact of the expansion. The Fraser River estuary is a biodiversity hotspot. Millions of birds stop at the estuary to rest and replenish partway through their journeys along the Pacific flyway, a migration route that extends from Alaska to Peru. Juvenile salmon also rely on the estuary in their migration.

The port authority has made agreements with 26 of the 48 First Nations it consulted with. The port authority told The Narwhal it pursued agreements with 28 nations total, and “positive” conversations on mutual benefits agreements continue with the remaining two communities. 

The port authority received the approvals it needed from the feds and the province to move ahead — but it has almost 400 conditions to meet, along with finding an operator for the new berths. 

It anticipates construction will begin in 2027 and will take about six years to build, and be operational in the early- to mid-2030s. It projects the terminal will add $3 billion to the economy every year. 

So what impacts are people concerned about?

At the heart of the debate around the Roberts Bank Terminal 2 is whether the port authority can fully offset the impacts of its concrete footprint in a sensitive and internationally recognized habitat that has already been degraded due to industry. 

One major concern is salmon. The Fraser River estuary is an integral stage in the salmon lifecycle, but has already lost 85 per cent of its salmon habitat, and the proposed project would deplete an additional 177 hectares. The already weakened habitat is far from its previous ability to sustain life. A 2022 study found 102 species in the Fraser estuary are at risk of local extinction between now and 2045.

Young salmon leaving the river need to stay in the estuary to feed, hide from predators, rest and adjust to salt water before heading out to the ocean. They’re already forced to leave the shallow eelgrass bed to swim around the existing terminal, and scientists are concerned the expansion would make it even harder for them to get back to safer waters.

“Because of these structures, they just get punted right out into Georgia Straight, and because they’re so small, and they haven’t osmoregulated yet and there’s too many predators out there that they just get eaten,” Misty MacDuffee, biologist with Raincoast Conservation Foundation, said in an interview. 

Salmon are essential food for endangered southern resident killer whales, of which only about 74 whales remain (the number is in flux. The Centre for Whale Research counted 75 whales last summer, but observers believe a calf died between December and January). Any decline in Chinook salmon impacts the critically endangered whales. 

Western sandpipers, a small shorebird that stops to refuel in the Fraser delta on its 10,000-kilometre migration, rely on the mudflats of Roberts Bank for biofilm, a layer of diatoms and bacteria. There is concern the port expansion could affect biofilm production that provides vital fatty acids for the birds.

What does the port authority say?

Danielle Jang, manager of external issues management and communications for the port authority, told The Narwhal in an email “our plan to protect the environment has been shaped by input from First Nations, Indigenous Knowledge holders, federal agencies, technical experts and the public.”

Jang said they use an “avoid, mitigate and offset” approach, and the port authority is developing a “comprehensive monitoring program in consultation with First Nations and regulatory agencies.”

“This includes a long-term follow-up program to ensure our predictions on the environmental effects are accurate, check whether our mitigations are working as planned and undertake an adaptive management process if measures are not working as intended,” Jang said.

MacDuffee said industrial changes don’t happen in isolation, and more and more development on the estuary piles up to wider degradation of the area — known as cumulative effects. MacDuffee points out the Trans Mountain pipeline expansion will also increase tanker traffic to 408 tankers per year, up from 60 per year. The compounding pollution, light, noise, dredging and physical obstacles “starve the estuary” and impact the entire ecosystem’s function, MacDuffee said.

The port has taken some measures to slow down ships and reduce noise, but those measures are “not enough to mitigate the increased noise” from Terminal 2 and the Trans Mountain expansion, MacDuffee argued. Marine traffic noise and lights impact the whales’ abilities to hunt and communicate through echolocation. The passage of a large container ship can reduce a southern resident killer whale’s echolocation range from 400 metres in quiet conditions to just 60 metres.

“We are not advancing the recovery of southern resident killer whales. And we continue to make decisions that degrade their critical habitat,” she said.

The port authority has committed to restoring 86 hectares of salmon habitat (compared to the 177 hectare imprint of the new terminal) but MacDuffee and other critics have pointed out this is planned for other areas that don’t make up for the impact on juvenile salmon in the estuary, an integral place for them to grow and develop.

“You can’t tell wildlife where they should live,” Charlotte Dawe, conservation and policy campaigner for the Wilderness Committee, said in an interview.

“You can’t destroy their critical habitat that they rely on and hope that they use another area that you create.”

Why do conservation groups say the federal government’s approval of Roberts Bank Terminal 2 was unlawful?

First, we have to understand the environmental review process. 

The federal impact assessment process found the expansion would impact many species including endangered southern resident killer whales, which are listed under Canada’s federal Species At Risk Act.

The assessment process also found there would be impacts on salmon, Dungeness crab, barn owls, western sandpipers and other species. The final report outlined impacts on the ability of First Nations to fulfill their harvesting and access the water, and broader human health impacts due to light, noise and pollution. 

The assessment process also does not consider the need for a project — so, in this case, whether container capacity is actually an issue.

After the impact assessment, it was up to Minister of Environment and Climate Change Steven Guilbeault to review the federal impact assessment report and conclude whether the project was likely to have significant environmental effects, and pass that conclusion on to cabinet.

Despite Guilbeault’s conclusion the project would have significant adverse effects, cabinet approved the terminal expansion — subject to an unprecedented 370 conditions. Cabinet argued the public interest superseded the impacts, and therefore the project was justified.

On behalf of the conservation groups, Ecojustice argues the cabinet could not deem the project as “justified” when that decision was not in line with the Species At Risk Act. The act prohibits the killing or harming of listed species or destroying critical habitat that is likely to result in harming the species.

This could be a potentially precedent-setting case, Dyna Tuytel, a lawyer with Ecojustice, said in an interview. She hopes the case will have a long-term impact on “taking the Species At Risk Act seriously and not treating it as an afterthought.”

The act leaves ultimate decisions up to cabinet — so the act is “only as strong as the will of the government in power,” Dawe said.

Winning this case would mean “the laws we have to protect wildlife that are faced with extinction can actually hold up against governments who continue to greenlight harm,” she added.

The respondents — the minister of environment and climate change, the attorney general of Canada and the port authority — dismissed the conservation groups’ arguments as “incorrect” and rebutted that the environment minister met his obligations under the act. They argued cabinet was within its rights when it decided the mitigation measures were satisfactory to “avoid or lessen the likely adverse effects” on species listed under the act.

What about the Lummi Nation court challenge?

This challenge would require Canada to consult with the Lummi Nation south of the border, which alleges Canada failed its obligations and demands inclusion in the consultation process.

The nation references the precedent-settling 2021 case R v. Desautel, in which the Supreme Court of Canada recognized the Sinixt have inherent Indigenous Rights to hunt and harvest on their traditional territory in Canada, despite being considered an ‘American’ tribe.

“The claim is … Lummi had a right to be consulted in this case, given the proximity of the project to areas that they’ve historically exercised rights, both marine and terrestrial,” the nation’s lawyer John Gailus told Cascadia Daily News.

This could add further delay, but cannot ultimately halt the project.

And you mentioned some First Nations are on board?

This is also a mixed bag. The project impacts nations close to the terminal itself, like Tsawwassen and Musqueam First Nations, while the shipping route has far-ranging impacts, including Pacheedaht and Ditidaht First Nations on Vancouver Island. Some First Nations governments support the project, some don’t. Many expressed concern early on in the process with the impact on harvesting, water quality and human health due to light, noise and air quality.

While 26 First Nations governments have signed onto the project, not all individuals in those nations agree with those decisions. 

Tsawwassen First Nation cited significant concerns with the project, and eventually signed a relationship agreement in 2021. The nation “will rely on this agreement to continue to ensure Tsawwassen Treaty Rights are protected,” sxʷamisaat Chief Laura Cassidy said in a statement when the feds approved the project last year. 

Cassidy said the 370 federal conditions give Tsawwassen “a significant oversight role” in the construction and implementation of the expansion, as well as the nation’s agreements with the port authority. “We intend to exercise that authority to ensure that the port authority is held to the highest standards at all times,” she said.

“We are satisfied with how far we were able to push the mitigation and accommodation measures for addressing impacts to Tsawwassen’s Treaty Rights. On that basis, we have provided consent for the project, however, we are not advocating for it,” she continued.

Musqueam also signed a relationship agreement with the port authority in 2021. Snuneymuxw First Nation requested the province either deny the approval or require the regulators and port authority to work with the nation to collect information on the expansion’s impact on Snuneymuxw.

Where is B.C. in all of this?

In September, the province also issued an environmental certificate. The ministers of environment and transportation cited environmental concerns, but said the province could not practically do anything to stop the project. 

In a statement of decision from the provincial Minister of Environment and Climate Change Strategy George Heyman and Minister of Transportation and Infrastructure Rob Fleming agreed “there will likely be significant adverse environmental effects from Roberts Bank Terminal 2” and “not all effects would be fully mitigated,” including impacts on wetlands, human health, salmon and greenhouse gas emissions.

The B.C. ministers said they had no practical way to halt the project since the project is mostly on federal Crown land under the jurisdiction of a federal Crown corporation. The B.C. environmental assessment is limited to matters of provincial jurisdiction and B.C.’s assessment act “cannot be used to prohibit the development of the project,” the ministers wrote in their statement of decision. 

“If we chose to decline the project it would have no practical effect other than to prevent us from imposing conditions that address matters of provincial interest,” they explained.

B.C. imposed 16 conditions including a wetland management plan and a greenhouse-gas reduction plan.

That means the federal and provincial environmental impact assessments both concluded the project was likely to have significant adverse effects that could not be mitigated, and both the federal and environment ministers agreed with those findings, but the project was approved anyways.

OK … so is it a done deal if Canada wins the court case? What happens next?

The port authority has to meet the 16 legally binding provincial conditions and 370 conditions set out by the feds, including consulting with Indigenous Peoples, developing greenhouse gas management plans, mitigating atmospheric noise, vibration and light pollution. It must also investigate the feasibility of opening a breach in the causeway to allow fish to pass through closer to shore, instead of swimming around the entire port.

It also needs Fisheries Act permits and Species At Risk Act permits. Tuytel said it’s rare for those permits to be denied, though Fisheries and Oceans Canada did flag during the review process it may not be possible to admit the permit if the project would jeopardize a species’ survival or recovery. 

Provided it meets all of these requirements and the court case doesn’t block Canada’s approval, the project goes ahead.

The port authority declined an interview, but in an emailed statement to The Narwhal, senior communications advisor Alex Munro said it expects its focus in 2024 “to be on submitting a Fisheries Act authorization and continuing First Nation consultation and collaboration.”

MacDuffee argued the federal conditions don’t outline the rigour needed to mitigate harm. For example, she pointed to the condition to look at the feasibility of breaching a hole beneath the causeway.

“If they deem that it’s not technically or economically feasible, then it doesn’t have to be done,” she said.

“It doesn’t say ‘You will build breaches, you will once and for all solve this problem.’ ”

Updated Feb. 21, 2024, at 5:18 p.m. PT: This article was updated to correct a statement that the expansion project would “double the port’s capacity by 50 per cent,” which is incorrect. It would double the physical footprint of the current container port, and increase the port’s container capacity by 50 per cent. It was also edited to clarify the expansion will increase container capacity specifically by 50 per cent — not the general capacity of the port as a whole, which also includes four other business sectors (cruise, automobiles, breakbulk and bulk).

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Environment and Climate Change Canada Minister Jonathan Wilkinson has given the Vancouver Fraser Port Authority more homework to do before he’ll decide on the fate of Roberts Bank Terminal 2.

In a six-page letter to Robin Silvester, CEO of the port authority, Wilkinson flagged “gaps in information” on the project’s risks to vital salmon habitat, critically endangered southern resident killer whales, migratory birds, human health and First Nations’ use of the area for traditional practices — as well as the port authority’s plans to minimize those harms. 

Wilkinson’s Aug. 24 order came days before the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency flagged concerns about the project’s impacts on Indigenous communities south of the border, as well as effects on orcas and migratory birds. 

The minister’s request, welcomed by some opponents of the port expansion, is expected to delay a decision on whether the project should be allowed to proceed until next year.

“I’m really encouraged that he is asking very pertinent questions and requesting specific, detailed information about mitigation … and the implications of the project,” said Misty MacDuffee, a biologist and wild salmon program director with Raincoast Conservation Foundation.

Her concern is that the port may not be able to collect all the information Wilkinson requested — including on potential impacts on southern resident killer whales — within a reasonable timeframe. 

If that’s the case, there will continue to be uncertainty about how effective proposed mitigation measures will be, MacDuffee said.

“Things cannot get worse for these whales if we have any hope of recovering them,” she said. “And this project … is going to make it worse for whales.”

In a statement to The Narwhal, Duncan Wilson, the port authority’s vice-president of environment, community and government affairs, said: “We believe much of the information we have been asked to provide will, on top of our existing proposed mitigation measures, demonstrate how we will further reduce project-related effects.”

Expansion would impact 177 hectares of the Fraser River estuary

The Roberts Bank expansion involves building a new three-berth container terminal and expanding the existing causeway and tug basin across 177 hectares of the Fraser River estuary, which serves as critical habitat for salmon, orcas and migratory birds. 

The project, which would double the size of the existing terminal, would be immediately next to Tsawwassen First Nation’s lands and would add to existing industrial pressures in the area, further impacting the nation’s food security and access to the land and water.

According to Wilson, Terminal 2, which would see a jump from 329 vessels last year to 468 by 2035 if the project proceeds, “is needed to facilitate Canada’s growing trade with Asian markets beyond the mid- to late-2030s.” 

Roberts Bank Terminal 2 would make Fraser River estuary a ‘giant parking lot,’ observers warn

Wilkinson asks for more details on threats to salmon, orcas before deciding project’s fate

Citing the findings of a federally appointed review panel, Wilkinson said the expansion would likely have “significant adverse effects,” even with the port authority’s existing mitigation measures. The minister said he needs more details to determine whether those mitigation measures are feasible.

Wilkinson asked how the project would affect the abundance and accessibility of crabs and how that, in turn, could impact First Nations food security. 

He also requested a description of planned offsets to replace fish habitat that would be destroyed by the expansion and asked the port authority to summarize the effectiveness of its past offsetting projects.

Environment and Climate Change Canada Minister Jonathan Wilkinson has raised concerns about the port expansion’s potential impacts on fish habitat and Indigenous ways of life. Photo: Michael Snyder / Raincoast Conservation Foundation

Wilkinson said he wants a plan that times construction work for periods when southern resident killer whales aren’t in the area, as well as an exclusion zone, ways to detect the orcas’ presence in the exclusion zone and a plan to stop activities when they enter the area to minimize the impact of noise on the endangered population.

He asked for updated estimates of the sound levels orcas would be exposed to from port operations and increased marine shipping as well as confirmation of projected vessel traffic, including traffic levels beyond 2035.

As well, Wilkinson asked the port authority to reassess how much the southern residents’ echolocation would be masked by noise associated with the project and to provide a plan to mitigate underwater noise from operations and, where possible, marine shipping. 

A key issue Wilkinson raised concerns about was the southern residents’ behavioural response to continuous noise.

But addressing the scientific uncertainty around that question will be a “big job,” MacDuffee said.

“What we assume now is that these effects of noise can only be mitigated by lowering the number of vessels and the sound of these vessels — that slowing them down is potentially just a trade-off for longer exposure,” she said. 

Along with noise, the project has the potential to cause further harm to chinook salmon, a key food source for the southern residents.

“We cannot say that we are going to try and save and recover salmon populations in the Fraser and go ahead with this project,” MacDuffee said.

Questions remain on risks to migratory birds

James Casey, the Fraser River estuary specialist with Birds Canada, said he was disappointed with the lack of additional information Wilkinson requested on impacts to migratory birds. 

The Fraser River estuary is globally significant habitat for migratory birds, including western sandpipers, a small shorebird that stops to refuel in the Fraser delta on its 10,000-kilometre migration from Peru to Alaska. These birds rely on biofilm, a layer of diatoms and bacteria, on the mudflats at Roberts Bank for vital fatty acids, and there is concern the port expansion could affect biofilm production. 

Sandhill cranes are seen along the Fraser River Delta, a vital feeding area for migratory birds. Photo: Jerry McFarland / Flickr

Given that the federal review panel was unable to determine whether the port expansion would impact the population levels of western sandpipers, the request for additional information was an opportunity to address that uncertainty, Casey said.

“But the minister decided not to take that approach,” he said. 

Wilkinson asked the port for additional modelling related to potential impacts on shorebirds in the event that different on-site design options were being considered.

Casey said he believes the federal government should reject the project given the risks to a broad suite of species, including migratory birds, and launch an estuary planning process.

“We have responsibilities, yes to the birds and the biodiversity of the region, but also to the people along the flyways from countries such as Peru and Mexico and the U.S. to make sure that we do our part to protect these bird species, and I think that’s an obligation that we are dropping the ball on right now,” he said.

U.S. EPA weighs in, urging adoption of mitigation measures

Organizations on the other side of the border have also raised concerns about the terminal expansion. The U.S. Environmental Protection Agency wrote to the Impact Assessment Agency of Canada on Aug. 27 in support of concerns that had already been raised by the Suquamish Tribe, the Lummi Nation, the National Audubon Society and the Washington State Department of Ecology. 

“Consistent with this input, EPA recognizes that salmon, shellfish and other marine life are the foundation of many of the Pacific Northwest tribes’ subsistence, economy, culture, spiritual life and day-to-day existence,” the agency wrote.

“EPA encourages decisions — and, where appropriate, measures and practices — that ensure that the significance and integrity of way-of-life activities will be maintained during the proposed activities,” the letter continued.

The agency called for measures to reduce harms to the southern residents and urged the Vancouver Fraser Port Authority to “firmly commit to developing biofilm habitat in the Fraser River estuary to offset the potential impacts” to migratory birds, including the western sandpiper.

Roberts Bank Terminal 2 decision likely delayed to next year

The port authority has requested an extension of the timeline for a federal decision on the project, given the additional information sought by the minister and requests from some Indigenous groups for further consultation.

In his statement, Wilson noted the report from the federal review panel was released in the midst of a global pandemic, which posed challenges for in-person consultation.

Minister Jonathan Wilkinson has asked the port authority for more details on its planned mitigation measures to offset the impacts of its proposed expansion project. Photo: Michael Snyder / Raincoast Conservation Foundation

“During our remote consultation with Indigenous groups over the last few months, groups have asked for more time to support their participation and their own internal community process, and we want to support and respect these requests,” he said.

“We believe that meaningful consultation and engagement with Indigenous groups is key to building this project in the right way,” he said.

In its letter requesting the extension, the port authority noted that while “a delay could have some implications for the project commencement date should all approvals be obtained, we believe that such implications would be manageable, and it is preferable to take the time necessary to support the above noted activities.”

Wilson said the port authority is aiming to provide the requested information by early next year and hopes a final decision on the project will be made before the summer of 2021. 

— With files from Stephanie Wood

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Scientists at the Pacific Salmon Commission knew 2020 wouldn’t be a great year for Fraser River sockeye salmon — but they didn’t know it would be this bad.

Returns of adult sockeye averaged 9.6 million between 1980 and 2014, ranging from two million to 28 million per year. The commission predicted just 941,000 salmon would return this year. 

But returns have been so low this summer, the commission had to update that projection in early August. It now expects only 283,000 adults will return, which would be the lowest return ever recorded. 

Fraser River sockeye salmon return to spawn in the river where they were born, sometimes within a few metres of where they hatched. Most spend two years in freshwater and two years in the Pacific Ocean. They typically return between late June and October. 

Scientists base return estimates on the number of salmon that were born four years earlier. That means when returns are lower than expected, salmon went missing somewhere during their four years in the ocean.  

Tyrone McNeil, vice-president of Stó:lō Tribal Council, said he thinks 283,000 is still a high estimate. He’s disappointed by what he sees as a lack of proper response from Fisheries and Oceans Canada Canada.

“I’m really disillusioned,” he said. “[Fisheries and Oceans] doesn’t seem to be alarmed in any sense.”

Chief Wayne Sparrow of Musqueam Indian Band echoed his disappointment in the federal department’s response to suffering salmon populations.

“I’m hoping the department will do something. Or else, we will be telling our grandkids that there used to be salmon in the Fraser River,” he said.

“I don’t think it’s too late, but we’re at five minutes to midnight.”

Salmon are at the centre of many First Nations’ ceremonies and histories, and are integral to their food security. Children have inherited fishing practices from their parents and grandparents for millenia. But when there are no fish, they lose that opportunity.

Sockeye have been suffering due to a multitude of factors, including overfishing and climate change, which has caused warmer waters than the salmon are used to. Including the Pacific Salmon Commission’s latest expected return for 2020, three of the last five years will have had record-breaking low returns for Fraser River sockeye. 

Chart: Arik Ligeti / The Narwhal

Fisheries and Oceans Canada has taken actions to protect salmon, including implementing a new Fisheries Act that reinstated some protections stripped by the Harper government and launching a salmon restoration and innovation fund that commits $142 million over five years to restoration projects in B.C. 

But salmon advocates are calling for bolder action like tougher restrictions on harvesting salmon, better monitoring of fisheries and recognition of Indigenous fishing rights.

“We’ve recommended so many things to [Fisheries and Oceans] over time and they’ve never been implemented,” said Tracy Wimbush from Siska Nation, who is fisheries program manager for Scw’exmx Tribal Council. 

“These threats have all accumulated and here we are today with a collapse of our fisheries,” she said. “How many years do we have to hear this is the lowest number we’ve seen up to this point?”

Here are some of the challenges experts say Fraser River sockeye salmon are facing.

1. Lice and salmon farms

Migrating salmon pass fish farms, and those fish farms are often infested with sea lice, which can latch onto the migrating salmon. Sea lice suction onto the fish and damage their fins and scales, inflicting wounds and causing bleeding.

For juvenile salmon just a few inches long, a few lice can mean “they’re dead,” McNeil said.

Biologist Alexandra Morton, who has been studying the impact of sea lice on wild salmon for years, has found higher death-rates in salmon infected by sea lice. In one of Morton’s trials, almost 98 per cent of juvenile pink salmon with a mature louse died.

War on the waters: salmon farms losing battle with sea lice as wild fish pay the price

Craig Orr, founding member and conservation advisor for Watershed Watch, has been researching the impact of sea lice on fish since 2001. He worked on the Cohen Commission, an inquiry into the decline of Fraser sockeye that was completed in 2013. He said the inquiry identified three major drivers of sockeye decline: climate change, competition with hatchery pink salmon and salmon farms, which he called “lice factories.”

The Cohen Commission issued 75 recommendations, one of which called for the Minister of Fisheries and Oceans to prohibit net-pen salmon farming in the Discovery Islands of B.C. this fall, unless they are “satisfied that such farms pose at most a minimal risk of serious harm to the health of migrating Fraser River sockeye salmon.”

The Fisheries and Oceans website claims the department has met 100 per cent of the Cohen recommendations, and notes the department will complete a disease risk assessment process on salmon farms this year. If it finds farms pose “more than a minimal risk,” the department promises “salmon farms in the Discovery Islands will be required to cease operations.”

Earlier this year, the federal Liberal government backed away from its campaign promise to phase out open net pen salmon on the West Coast by 2025.

Orr called the department’s claim to have met all of the Cohen recommendations “fiction.”

“If [Fisheries and Oceans] were serious about protecting wild fish, they would … get the farms out of migration routes,” he said. Orr advocates for farms to be moved on land.

2. Climate change

Climate change has led to warmer river and ocean temperatures, which have many negative impacts on salmon. Warmer waters mean more California sea lions on B.C.’s coast which, along with a booming seal population, means salmon are facing more predators, Sparrow said.

The warming sea also means less of the zooplankton that salmon rely on for food.

Catherine Michielsens, the Pacific Salmon Commission’s chief of fisheries management sciences, said salmon at lower latitudes in B.C. will have “difficulty remaining viable” because of increasing water temperatures. 

High temperatures in the river cause stress in fish and salmon can die before reaching spawning grounds. Changes in precipitation, causing periods of drought followed by heavy rain, can trigger events like landslides, which damage freshwater habitat. Michielsens said habitat restoration and banning salmon harvest still wouldn’t be enough to save salmon in the face of climate change.

“How much we will be able to change their downhill trajectory will depend on how successful we are in curbing greenhouse gas emissions,” she said.

“Even in low-emissions scenarios, it’s not likely that all salmon populations will remain viable.”

Salmon are also losing habitat due to industrial activity. The Fraser estuary has lost 70 per cent of its salmon habitat, which juvenile salmon rely on as they adapt from fresh to saltwater. Conservationists are concerned about a number of industrial projects proposed for the lower river, including the Trans Mountain pipeline expansion, the expansion of the Tilbury LNG plant, and Roberts Bank Terminal 2,  a container terminal that will destroy 177 hectares of salmon habitat.

3. Government inaction on fisheries practices

Fisheries and Oceans Canada forecasts salmon returns every year in order to develop fishing plans prior to the season, according to the department. As salmon return, data from test fisheries, hydro acoustic counters and environmental information are factored in to adjust fishing plans.

The department said it does not expect a Fraser River sockeye fishery this year.

But McNeil and others think large-scale, long-term pauses on fishing will be necessary to save salmon and understand how they are doing year-to-year without the stress of harvesting.

“If we don’t know the numbers, we shouldn’t be fishing them,” McNeil said.

“Everyone will have to bite the bullet, at least for a little while,” Sparrow agreed. Allowing salmon populations to recover, he said, could mean pausing harvesting for three to four years. Others have advocated to only allow harvesting near spawning grounds rather than at sea, to ensure enough fish make it back to spawn.

Amid Closure of B.C. Salmon Fisheries, Study Finds Feds Failed to Monitor Stocks

Conservationists have advocated for more selective harvesting practices to be introduced, like fish traps and live capture, so fishers can focus on stocks in greater abundance and not catch fish from struggling stocks. They’ve also called for better monitoring of fisheries to enforce best practices, including the use of surveillance cameras.

Orr wants to see the government fulfill all recommendations of the Cohen Commission, and stop acting as a salmon farming regulator and promoter “at the same time.”

Last year, the federal government signed the Fraser Salmon Collaborative Agreement with 76 First Nations in B.C., promising to include First Nations in conservation and management decisions. But Wimbush said First Nations are still experiencing “parental oversight” from Fisheries and Oceans Canada and haven’t been involved in any decision-making.

“Fisheries and Oceans was set up to push out First Nations from the fisheries and allow the colonizers more access to the fisheries, and it has worked really well over time,” she said.

4. Big Bar landslide

The Big Bar landslide, discovered in June 2019 but thought to have happened in 2018, “blocked virtually all of the natural migration of the Fraser sockeye” until late August 2019, according to a study by Fisheries and Oceans Canada. The slide devastated the early Stuart sockeye stock, the first run every year, that spawn above the slide in July and August. Fisheries and Oceans Canada reported that 99 per cent of early Stuart didn’t make it past the landslide.

But Michielsens said “the tragedy is that the returns had been so low already” before Big Bar.

Only 493,000 sockeye returned in 2019 when 4.8 million had been forecast.

“Big bar slide was a complication on top of that,” Wimbush said. “Fraser River people [north] of Lillooet are definitely in dire straits in regards to all their salmon stocks.”

Wimbush said there should be a ten-year hold on harvesting, if that’s what it takes to save sockeye.

“The decisions we make today will affect our children in 150 years because the decisions made 150 years ago are affecting us today.”

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Some folks call flood pump stations “meat grinders.”

These pumps are common along B.C.’s Fraser River, where they remove water from nearby streams when levels get high and pump it into the river to prevent flooding.

But fish and amphibians can get sucked in with the water, said Lina Azeez, campaign manager for Watershed Watch Salmon Society.

“They grind them up in the machinery,” she said. “That’s a huge problem.”

Other flood infrastructure — such as dikes, floodgates and pumps — blocks fish passageways and makes potential spawning areas unreachable. As part of an ongoing mapping project, Watershed Watch has found 1,500 kilometres of current or potential fish habitat in the lower Fraser and its tributaries is blocked by flood infrastructure.

“It’s the biggest habitat issue that you’ve never heard of,” said Aaron Hill, executive director of Watershed Watch.

Many of these flood structures are due to be upgraded in response to sea level rise, increased seasonal flooding or aging. Hill said governments now have a chance to build innovative, fish-friendly structures such as pump stations that don’t catch fish or floodgates that open and close with the tide unlike older models that remain closed most of the time.

Natural infrastructure can also be harnessed to provide flood protection without disrupting wildlife. Lakes and ponds can help absorb freshet, while wetlands and vegetated areas absorb water and stabilize soil. A 2018 Insurance Bureau of Canada report found that natural infrastructure is “cost effective” by design but “underutilized.”

“There’s this tremendous opportunity to open up a whole bunch of habitat by putting in flood control structures that are better for salmon and also keep our communities as safe or even safer from flooding,” Hill said.

Cities continue to choose cheaper, non-fish-friendly options

The reality of flood risk has been looming over B.C. after above-average spring snowmelt in May caused the biggest flood in Williams Lake in approximately 200 years, triggering a state of emergency. A recent analysis by the World Resources Institute found that without major investments in flood protection, the number of people affected by coastal and river flooding each year could more than double by 2030. 

About 350,000 people live in the Fraser floodplain and are at risk of floods. The Fraser Basin Council estimates a major flood could cost up to $30 billion in damages. 

The NDP government committed $519 million to wildfire and flood preparation and response in its 2020 budget. But Hill said flood mitigation money keeps going to projects that block habitat and potentially harm fish. 

Hill pointed to Pitt Meadows, about 40 kilometres east of Vancouver, where community members have seen hundreds of dead fish at the McKechnie pump station. Despite this, the city has received one government grant and applied for another to replace two other pump stations with models that are just as harmful to fish. 

Watershed Watch Salmon Society is calling for fish-friendly flood infrastructure to replace old infrastructure along the lower Fraser River. Photo: Collette Rooney / Watershed Watch Salmon Society

Meghan Rooney, a field coordinator with Watershed Watch Salmon Society, conducts a habitat assessment at a side channel of the Coquitlam River. Photo: Collette Rooney / Watershed Watch Salmon Society

“Fish-friendly pumps are not requirements of these grant applications, but they were carefully considered,” the city said in a March 5 statement. The city added that it consulted with the B.C. Ministry of Environment and Climate Change Strategy and Fisheries and Oceans Canada and found that fish-friendly pumps would spread invasive species and affect native species, including salmon. Fish-friendly infrastructure allows the free movement of fish — invasive and non-invasive species — whereas traditional infrastructure can kill them.

“We have our federal aquatic species regulation, which prevents us from moving or transporting invasive species, which we know we have in our water courses,” Samanatha Maki, director of engineering and operations services at the City of Pitt Meadows, said at a council meeting in February. 

Azeez said both invasive and non-invasive fish have been killed by pumps in Pitt Meadows. She said the city is relying on the assumption that federal regulation allows for the killing of native species so long as invasive species are killed as well. But, she said, this is “not necessarily accurate.” 

The Fisheries Act prohibits human activities and projects that result in the “death of fish by means other than fishing” and the “harmful alteration, disruption or destruction of fish habitat.”

The Aquatic Invasive Species Regulations prohibits the release of invasive species and allows eradication of those species, but “the prohibition on harm to non-invasive species under the Fisheries Act continues to apply,” Azeez said.

She added there are more efficient ways to address the impacts invasive species can have on non-invasive fish, such as protecting and restoring habitat and improving water quality.

Another big obstacle for many municipalities is the cost of fish-friendly infrastructure, which can be more expensive up front than existing designs, Azeez said. 

At the council meeting, Maki conceded this was a major factor in the recommendation to go with standard pumps. “One of the biggest drivers is cost, with fish-friendly pumps being twice the cost,” she said in reference to the capital cost. She added that the maintenance cost is “a bit of an unknown,” while the existing pumps are “reliable technology.” 

Azeez and Hill want the government to adjust infrastructure funding requirements to advance fish-friendly options in collaboration with local governments and First Nations. 

A spokesperson from the Ministry of Forests, Lands, Natural Resource Operations and Rural Development told The Narwhal by email the province “encourages” fish-friendly infrastructure, but local authorities are responsible for developing that infrastructure.

Councillor calls for regional plan to bring back fish habitat to the Fraser 

While municipalities use provincial money to build more non-fish-friendly infrastructure, the province and the federal government are investing in habitat restoration through the salmon restoration and innovation fund, which supports projects to protect and revitalize salmon populations. The almost $150-million fund will be distributed over five years.

In 2019, MakeWay (formerly Tides Canada) received almost $600,000 from the fund to identify priority sites and fund infrastructure upgrades at those sites that would also make way for fish. In one of those projects, Watershed Watch is helping Port Coquitlam upgrade its pump station and floodgate at Maple Creek.

“It’s been on Port Coquitlam’s to-do list for a while, but they never really had the money to do it,” Azeez said.

Maple Creek supports all seven species of salmon, as well as steelhead and cutthroat trout. But spawning grounds are blocked by a floodgate, a “big metal door” that blocks out aquatic life, said Laura Dupont, a Port Coquitlam city councillor. While the old floodgate remains closed most of the time, the new gate would remain open at low tide.

Flood infrastructure blocks 1,500 kilometres of current or potential salmon habitat in the lower Fraser River, including important spawning habitat. Photo: Eiko Jones / Watershed Watch Salmon Society

Dupont believes the payoffs will be fast.

“Life comes back so quickly. Nature is so resilient,” she said.

“I would expect within one spawning season, we should see salmon returning and being able to spawn, and just letting life back into a waterway that’s been deprived of it for too long.”

In 2018, Dupont brought a resolution forward to the Union of B.C. Municipalities to prioritize fish-friendly flood infrastructure. The resolution passed and was presented to the province as a recommendation to consider for future decision-making. She said there needs to be a regional plan to bring back fish habitat in the Fraser.

“Municipality by municipality is so piecemeal,” she said, adding that she’d like to see enough funding to update all floodgates along the lower Fraser.

Innovative fish-friendly infrastructure can restore habitat and protect land

While fish-friendly infrastructure may be more expensive, the payoffs can be huge.

In Washington state, public-private partnership Floodplains by Design issues grants for projects that reduce flood risk and restore habitat. Between 2013 and 2018, it funded 36 projects on 13 major floodplains thanks to US$115 million from the Washington legislature. The projects have removed 700 residences from high-risk floodplain areas, restored 40 kilometres of salmon habitat and protected 200 hectares of agricultural land.  

In the Netherlands, severe flooding in the 1990s forced more than 250,000 people to evacuate and prompted the government to develop a more innovative approach to flood management. The Room for the River project, launched in 2007 and completed in 2018, lowered floodplains, created water buffers, relocated levees, increased the depth of side channels and built flood bypasses. 

As part of the Netherland’s Room for the River project, a new channel was dug for the Waal river, creating an island in the city of Nijmegen. Photo: Richard Brunsveld / Unsplash

Azeez also pointed to the living dike project, a collaboration between the cities of Delta and Surrey and Semiahmoo First Nation. Instead of building an existing concrete dike higher to protect communities from sea level rise, which would mean encroaching on more land and vital salmon habitat, the coalition has launched a project to gradually increase the elevation of the foreshore over 30 years in hopes of providing natural protection and preserving the salt marsh habitat.

Looking at innovations that have taken place around the world and close to home, Hill said the fact that the Fraser River lacks an innovative flood management plan amounts to “government inertia.”

“There’s a lot of fear around moving away from the status quo,” he said. “But it really hasn’t served us very well.”

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When Tsawwassen Chief Ken Baird, whose ancestral name is swənnəset, looks at where the Fraser River meets the ocean, he worries about the effects of industry on the water that is a life source for his people. 

“It’s a real challenge to protect our land given all that is happening on the Fraser,” he said. 

“It’s becoming harder to be stewards of the Salish Sea.”

Baird said industry is impacting the nation’s food security as salmon, eulachon and sturgeon populations decline. As a result, the community has become more reliant on Dungeness crab. Now, all these species face a new threat: the proposed expansion of the Port of Vancouver’s container terminal at the mouth of the Fraser River. 

The existing terminal at Roberts Bank, Deltaport, juts across an eelgrass bed that provides shelter for migrating juvenile salmon. The Roberts Bank Terminal 2 project would double the size of Deltaport, creating an artificial island about the size of 150 football fields. The Fraser estuary has already lost 70 per cent of its salmon habitat, and the proposed project would deplete an additional 177 hectares. 

Deltaport transects an eelgrass bed that provides vital habitat for juvenile salmon. Photo: Vancouver Fraser Port Authority

Cliff Stewart, vice-president of infrastructure at the Vancouver Fraser Port Authority, told The Narwhal by email that the proposed location poses the least impact on the environment and nearby communities.

“We are confident that we can proceed with this project in a way that protects the environment,” he added.

The federal government has until November to make its decision on whether or not to approve the project. In the meantime, the port is pursuing environmental and regulatory permits.  

Project would further endanger chinook salmon, impede nation’s ability to access its aquatic ‘front yard’ 

Baird doesn’t see the project in isolation but situated within widespread degradation of the Fraser River. The lower Fraser is already a centre of industrial activity, lined with warehouses and manufacturers, the BC Ferries Tsawwassen terminal and other marine terminals like the Fraser Surrey Docks. In addition to Terminal 2, several other industrial projects are proposed along the lower river, including the Trans Mountain pipeline expansion, a jet fuel storage facility, an LNG export terminal and a coal export terminal. 

A federally appointed review panel concluded the Terminal 2 project would have “significant and adverse cumulative effects” on two populations of chinook salmon, including a threatened population in the lower Fraser River, southern resident killer whales, Dungeness crab and the ability of people from Tsawwassen First Nation to access the water, which has already been impeded by industry.

“Members indicated they could no longer walk along their foreshore or gather marine resources for communal activities … [and] stated that the ability to play in the ‘front yard’ of the nation had been taken from their youth and future generations,” reads the panel’s report, which was released in March.

Baird said the health of Tsawwassen culture and language relies on the health of the land and water. In hən̓q̓əmin̓əm̓, the word sc̓əwaθən, or Tsawwassen, means “the land facing the sea.” 

Tsawwassen First Nation reserve lands are very close to Roberts Bank and residents face risks associated with increased pollution and noise. Already, Baird said, “the light and noise from the existing port is constant.”

“When it’s high tide, you can hear things clear as day. They’re about five kilometres from us out there. But on a clear night, when the water is high, it sounds like they’re just a few hundred feet away,” he said.

The noise and lights from Deltaport already disrupt life on Tsawwassen First Nation reserve lands. Photo: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

The panel found the project would result in significant adverse effects on human health due to exposure to nitrogen dioxide and particulate matter (PM2.5), which can lead to heart disease and respiratory infections. A 2019 study led by a researcher the University of British Columbia looked at particulate matter and found a higher rate of deaths among Canadians who lived in high-pollution areas compared to low-pollution areas.

On its website, the Port of Vancouver lists the “environmental benefits” of the project, including a plan to offset the effects of development with “the potential to make a meaningful contribution to the future health and recovery” of chinook salmon and southern resident killer whales.

But the review panel said the port’s proposed offsetting plan is “not sufficient,” since it offsets about 27 hectares while the project would destroy 177 hectares.

Baird said he’d like to see more efforts to enhance the environment on the Fraser, not just mitigate damage.

“[Industries] have an obligation to do enhancement to make up for their projects,” he said.

Tsawwassen First Nation recommended to the review panel that the Port of Vancouver prioritize the restoration of the foreshore and deteriorated marshland and put aside the necessary funds for the restoration in escrow prior to the project’s approval.

The nation signed a memorandum of agreement with the port in 2004 regarding development at Roberts Bank, but it is negotiating an addendum to the agreement because it says the proposal has changed “significantly” in the years since the agreement was signed. The memorandum is separate from the federal approval process.

The panel issued its report to the federal government in March with 71 recommendations, including ways to address negative impacts on wildlife, air quality and the ability of Tsawwassen First Nation and Musqueam Indian Band to harvest.

Stewart said the port authority takes the panel’s concerns seriously, but since the west coast is expected to run out of container capacity by the end of the decade, the project “is of paramount value to Canada’s trade.”

‘Frontier mentality’ fails to consider cumulative effects

David Scott, a biologist with Raincoast Conservation Foundation, wrote about the need to consider the cumulative effects of industrial development along the Fraser in a recent report called Toward a Vision for Salmon Habitat in the Lower Fraser River.

“There’s a push to increase infrastructure, but that infrastructure is already responsible for disconnecting over 1,000 kilometres of salmon habitat,” he told The Narwhal.

“It’s really just turning the estuary into a giant parking lot.”

In the report, Scott and two co-authors said if several proposed projects on the Fraser are approved, there will be a “cumulative increase in container and tanker traffic” and underwater noise. This poses a more significant risk for marine life, like salmon and southern resident killer whales, than a single, isolated project. 

The proposed Roberts Bank Terminal 2 would make southern resident killer whales more vulnerable to underwater noise, ship strikes and the reduced availability of chinook salmon. Photo: Thomas Lipke / Unsplash

Stewart said the port authority has plans to mitigate noise during construction and once the terminal is operational. For instance, the port will enlist marine mammal observers to identify when a mammal is in the area and stop construction accordingly and do long-term monitoring.

The expansion would further obstruct young salmon that already have to leave the safety of the eelgrass bed to swim around the existing causeway, forcing them into deeper, more saline waters when they are young and still adapting to salt water. Scott is concerned this will further weaken struggling chinook populations and the southern resident killer whales that rely on them for food. Southern residents are listed as endangered under the Species at Risk Act with just 73 whales left.

Misty MacDuffee, a biologist with Raincoast Conservation Foundation and co-author of the Vision for Salmon report, said noise from increased traffic would further impact the whales’ ability to hunt. The passage of a large container ship can reduce a southern resident killer whale’s echolocation range from 400 metres in quiet conditions to just 60 metres.

“This project is significantly worse than Trans Mountain in terms of an increase in traffic,” she said. 

The Trans Mountain pipeline expansion would increase tanker traffic in the Burrard Inlet from five to 34 tankers a month, or 408 tankers a year. With Terminal 2, the port authority estimates annual traffic at Roberts Bank will increase from 329 vessels in 2019 to 468 vessels by 2035. But those increases aren’t often examined side by side, said MacDuffee.

The proposed Deltaport expansion would provide an additional 2.4 million 20-foot equivalent units of container capacity per year, doubling the Port of Vancouver’s current capacity. Photo: Vancouver Fraser Port Authority

“The cumulative effects piece doesn’t get considered,” she said. “As if everything else is just fine, it’s just one project. But the stressors on salmon or southern resident killer whales are huge.”

She called it a “frontier mentality” of exploitation even as species inch closer to extinction.

“We have a crisis. It’s not like we don’t know,” she said. “I don’t know why we continue to go down this road. Priority continues to be economic development at any cost.”

While many are concerned the terminal will lead to increased traffic, Stewart said the total number of ships coming through the Port of Vancouver is not expected to change, but the ships will be bigger and more will dock at Roberts Bank instead of other terminals.

“What will change is the size of the ships, which will be slightly larger on average if the project proceeds, and the amount of cargo loaded and unloaded in Vancouver, which will increase by approximately 33 per cent,” he said.

Time for ‘bold and disruptive ideas’ to save salmon

In the Vision for Salmon report, Scott and his co-authors sought solutions to restore salmon habitat. They said Terminal 2 needs to be reviewed in the context of dredging and water pollution by industry, flood infrastructure that also obstructs salmon and climate change. 

They recommended all levels of government enact “fish-first policies” for land and water use by prioritizing fish-friendly infrastructure and preventing development in key habitats.

“Our vision is to really try to reconnect the estuary,” Scott said. “One of the key pieces is not to do any more damage.”

They held workshops with First Nations, communities and organizations about what future they wanted for the river. Ideas included better collaboration between governments, more nature-based solutions and more funding for Indigenous guardians programs.

Another idea was to reflood Sumas Lake, which was drained by settlers in the 1920s to drive away mosquitos and create more farmland. The lake played an important role in absorbing freshet and providing habitat for salmon and game. Flooding the lake would require extensive planning and moving residents who occupy the land, now called Sumas Prairie.

Raincoast Conservation Foundation is calling for fish-friendly policies such as prohibiting development in key habitat areas like Roberts Bank. Photo: Fernando Lessa

As salmon populations dwindle, Dixon said it’s time for this kind of “bold and disruptive idea” that puts value in habitat restoration not financial payoff.

Murray Ned from the Semá:th (Sumas) First Nation said reclaiming the lake could also be a more cost-effective solution for flood control than dikes and pump stations which constantly need to be maintained.

“The reality of continuing to build these man-made infrastructure may not be the way to go,” he said. “Maybe [we] need to start reclaiming some of the lake to provide some flood relief.”

Another idea that’s been shown to work is knocking holes through infrastructure that blocks salmon migration paths. Raincoast partnered with Fisheries and Oceans Canada to breach three holes through the Steveston jetty in Richmond, B.C., to make way for juvenile salmon.

Like the terminal, jetties force small salmon that typically stay close to the shoreline out into deep, salty, predator-filled waters. MacDuffee said they’ve seen all five species of salmon using the breaches to get to a marsh blocked by the jetty.

“It’s amazing,” she said. “They haven’t been able to get to that marsh for 100 years.”

She said that after a century of habitat degradation, she didn’t think they’d see the benefits so quickly. It gave her hope that removing infrastructure and halting development can lead to salmon recovery.

“It shows that if we remove it, they will come,” she said.

But MacDuffee said there is little use in local restoration projects if they are constantly being “outpaced” by new developments like Roberts Bank.

“The first thing in recovery is to stop doing the harm,” she said.

“We can keep going down this road with making really bad decisions that have implications for species that many people rely on, or we can say no to projects and really double down and invest in the recovery of these wild populations.”

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Biologist Eric Balke was biking through Richmond, B.C., a few years ago when something caught his eye. He stopped at the dike and looked over to the other side — and saw a huge salt marsh expanding in front of him. He was surprised he’d never known it was there.

“I’m a biologist. I should have known better,” he mused. “It’s like you build a dike and that’s the end of the world, that’s the end of the area we care about.” 

“But these marshes are truly the gem of the Fraser estuary.” 

Salt marshes — coastal wetlands flooded and drained by salt water — can be found butting up against dikes throughout the Fraser River estuary, an internationally recognized centre of biodiversity with 17,000 hectares of wetlands. The sandy banks of salt marshes are filled with seagrass and low brush. Eagles fly overhead, eyeing sturgeon stranded on the bank. Packs of coyotes howl at nightfall.

But sea level rise caused by climate change threatens these rich ecosystems, which support migratory birds, salmon, seals and other marine life. Dikes, built to prevent flooding, make them even more vulnerable. When the sea level rises, salt marshes can migrate landward — but not if they’re blocked by structures like dikes. This phenomenon is called coastal squeeze. Communities behind those dikes are also at risk of catastrophic flooding if the ocean breaches the dikes.

The salt marshes in Boundary Bay are being conscripted in a novel fight against climate change-induced sea level rise as part of a ‘living dike’ solution. Photo: City of Surrey

Coastal squeeze is threatening Boundary Bay, home to another salt marsh in the estuary. But making the existing dike taller would also mean making it wider, encroaching on the salt marsh on one side or agricultural land on the other.

To protect the salt marsh and nearby communities, a coalition — which includes the City of Surrey, the City of Delta and the Semiahmoo First Nation — has formed to try an innovative solution.

It is creating a “living dike.”

In a pilot project at Boundary Bay, a 250-kilometre stretch of seashore that spans the three jurisdictions, the partners plan to deposit sediment in the marsh over three decades to raise its elevation and create a natural dike that can survive sea level rise. The gradual pace will allow plant life to adapt. Adding sediment too fast could bury plants and affect animals that use those plants for food or shelter. 

The hope is the marsh will survive and continue to provide wave protection for the people living nearby. Salt marshes in front of coastal dikes can reduce wave heights near the shore by as much as 40 per cent, slowing down wave energy and reducing the risk of flooding. They can also attenuate rainwater. Balke said eelgrass, which is abundant in salt marshes, can stabilize sediment, reduce erosion and further cushion wave action. 

Ducks fly along the waters of Boundary Bay. Photo: Tim Fitzgerald / Ducks Unlimited Canada

Biologist Eric Balke is working on a pilot project to turn the salt marsh in B.C.’s Boundary Bay into a living dike. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Wild horsetail along McNeeleys Trail in Boundary Bay. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

The vision is: homes will remain, the salt marsh will remain, the dike will remain. While it will take decades of work and hundreds of millions of dollars, if the project is a success, no one will notice a thing.

This is drastically different from the notable concrete, human-made infrastructure to mitigate flooding, which has disrupted natural processes in the Fraser estuary such as salmon migration. This pilot project aims to strengthen the built-in protection of this ecosystem. 

“These ecosystems are infrastructure. The whole point of the living dike is harnessing that power,” said Balke, who is coordinator of the South Coast Conservation Land Management Program and part of the Boundary Bay Living Dike Roundtable, a group providing input and guidance for the project.

West Coast Environmental Law estimates the cost for the living dike will be $175 to $250 million. For the pilot phase, Delta and Surrey have committed just under $3.5 million combined. The federal government pledged more than $76 million to mitigate coastal flooding in Delta, Surrey and the Semiahmoo First Nation, which includes funding for the project. Some costs will be covered by the province.

Design work is set to start later this year.

A map of the Fraser estuary. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

Using ‘the most important ecosystems in B.C.’ to prevent flooding

Flooding has always happened in the Fraser delta, but intense spring thaws and storm surges have put more people at risk. According to the Insurance Bureau of Canada, 1.7 million Canadian households — or 19 per cent of Canada’s population — are at risk of river and surface water flooding. 

A 2016 report by the Fraser Basin Council said a major flood in the Lower Mainland could be the most costly disaster in Canadian history. The report predicts a coastal flood would result in losses of $19 billion and a Fraser River flood would lead to losses of almost $23 billion. 

In another study, the council found that dikes in B.C. “generally do not meet current provincial standards and none fully meet or exceed the standards.”

Salt marshes remain an often-underrated ecosystem, even though they have a role to play in mitigating the impacts of sea level rise, which the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change predicts will likely exceed one metre globally by 2100 (though predictions vary). 

Over the next three decades, sediment will slowly be deposited in the salt marsh in Boundary Bay to turn it into a living dike. Photo: City of Surrey

Balke said these marshes are “arguably the most important ecosystems in B.C.” since they support millions of migratory birds and provide critical habitat for juvenile salmon on their journey from the Fraser River to the ocean. 

The marshes provide space for salmon to grow, eat, rest and adapt to saltwater life. When the tide is high, the marshes are filled with invertebrates for salmon to feed on. When the tide goes out, the sand is picked over by small mammals and birds hunting for molluscs. 

Boundary Bay is home to a salt marsh that’s at the heart of an ambitious plan to protect nearby communities from sea level rise. Photo: City of Surrey

A eagle flies over the water near Boundary Bay, a 250-kilometre stretch of seashore that provides important habitat to bird species. Photo: City of Surrey

The rich soils support microbial life and can absorb as much atmospheric carbon per unit area as soils in tropical rainforests. 

Human-made infrastructure gets in the way of salt marshes doing their job. For instance, jetties and dikes disrupt natural sediment deposit processes and restrict salmon movement. 

Concrete versus natural infrastructure

Sumas Lake in Abbotsford once absorbed freshet from the Fraser River in the spring, mitigating flooding. But settlers disliked the mosquitos and drained the lake in 1924, building an artificial canal and pump station to control water flow. 

Murray Ned, councillor for Semá:th (Sumas) First Nation, said the lake was their “livelihood” and was home to salmon, wolves and elk.

“It was probably the biggest impact on our community at the time, and even today, because we now no longer have that resource at our front door, so to speak,” said Ned, whose ancestral name is Kwilosintun. 

The living dike provides an opportunity to return to a more harmonious approach to working with nature as communities adapt to climate change, said Deborah Carlson, a staff lawyer at West Coast Environmental Law, who is also part of the living dike roundtable.

“It’s having a relationship with that coastal ecosystem,” she said. “A relationship that acknowledges that salt marsh is taking care of us, and [we’re] taking care of it.”

She said it can be complicated to experiment in areas with “complex, overlapping jurisdictions” like Boundary Bay but collaborative projects like this will be needed to adapt to climate change. 

Semá:th (Sumas) First Nation Councillor Murray Ned said it’s imperative that First Nations work with all levels of government on flood mitigation. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Juvenile fish swim in an Abbotsford waterway during an interview with Semá:th (Sumas) First Nation Councillor Murray Ned. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Matt Osler, Surrey’s program manager for disaster mitigation, agreed.

“Flooding doesn’t get held back by jurisdictional boundaries,” he told The Narwhal. 

Compared to all the dikes, jetties and pump stations, Osler said the living dike will be more “adaptable and resilient” — able to migrate or grow. He has high hopes for what this project could mean for the communities involved.

“We know we just have to try it and see if it works,” he said. “Maybe with climate change, we have to do things differently. We at least have to be asking the question of how we can do it differently.”

The Semiahmoo First Nation was not available for comment before publication.

A butterfly in the wild grasses along the Boundary Bay dike. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Boundary Bay marsh in a part of the coastal wetlands that are flooded and drained by salt water. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Horseback riders enjoy the Boundary Bay Dike Trail on May 18, 2020 in the territory of the Semiahmoo First Nation. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Climate change adaptation must be ‘collaborative effort’ with First Nations

The living dike project also provides an example of working in equal partnership with First Nations on flood management instead of working around them, Ned said.

In 2014, the City of Abbotsford undertook emergency flood work without consulting the First Nation and destroyed a Semá:th fishing site in the process. Last year, Abbotsford and the province signed a memorandum of understanding with the Semá:th agreeing to consult with the nation on flood response from now on.

“That was a major crisis in our community, the loss of that fishing site,” Ned said.

In addition to being on council for the Semá:th First Nation, Ned is part of the Emergency Planning Secretariat, an Indigenous organization that works with First Nations to help them build capacity to respond to floods. The secretariat wants to facilitate a coordinated flood management strategy across Coast Salish communities along the Fraser River. The secretariat is also participating in discussions around the living dike.

The Serpentine Fen is a part of the larger wetland supported by a system of dikes in the Fraser estuary and is protected as a nature reserve. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

Agricultural land adjacent to the Serpentine Fen. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

He said it’s integral for First Nations to work on equal footing with other jurisdictions.

“This work we’re talking about can’t be done solely by First Nations or solely by the provincial or federal governments,” Ned said. “It has to be a collaborative effort.”

First Nations are often in low-lying areas at risk of floods and have little protection, largely due to colonization. 

“When the Indian Act came into effect and constrained them to these small areas, they happened to be at their fish camps at the time, so that’s why a lot of reserves are near the river,” said Gillian Fuss, project coordinator for the secretariat. 

First Nations are at risk of losing fishing sites, cultural sites and graveyards to flooding. But band councils are often too overstretched to have an employee dedicated to emergency planning. The secretariat works with First Nations to increase that capacity.

Tyrone McNeil is also on the secretariat and is vice-president of the Stó:lō Tribal Council. He said his community, the Seabird Island Band, has lost 600 hectares of land to erosion and has been struggling to build up infrastructure that also protects salmon habitat. 

Boundary Bay’s West Dike Trail is home to a large marsh area. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

A duck takes off in the wetland of Beach Grove, an important part of the Fraser estuary marsh system. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

He said planning is much more difficult due to climate change.

“Say, 40 years ago, we had a pretty good idea of what to expect for freshet,” he said. “Now, with climate change, you can take every predictive modelling and toss it out.”

Richmond’s West Dike Trail looking toward the Fraser River and, beyond that, the North Shore mountains. Photo: Jennifer Osborne / The Narwhal

McNeil wants to prepare for a two-metre sea level rise.

He said another challenge that hasn’t been talked about enough is the probability of needing to move reserves to higher elevations due to flooding and sea level rise, something that would take years to complete. He said this will also take collaboration between First Nations and federal and provincial governments to find new reserves and start building as soon as 2040.

“[First Nations] need that long-term planning ability. We’re at the earliest stages of developing that,” he said.

Without that capacity, “We’re going to be losing a whole lot more land,” he warned.

And the solution for that, without major impacts on the ecosystem, won’t be found in concrete.

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By Silke Nebel, VP conservation and science, Birds Canada, and Gauri Sreenivasan, director of policy, Nature Canada.

COVID-19 has put us in reactive mode. Our government’s immediate focus is on mobilizing short-term measures to secure the health and well-being of Canadians. When the time comes for our country to chart its recovery, these same principles must guide the response to projects that could harm the environment and human health.

The chance to demonstrate leadership could come following the late March release of a long-awaited report from an independent federal review panel. The panel was assessing the viability and impact of the Roberts Bank Terminal 2 project — a massive container terminal proposed for British Columbia’s Fraser River Delta.

The report concluded the project would have significant adverse environmental effects on wildlife, human health, and for First Nations’ traditional use of their territories. At the same time, the federal panel said the project would support “competitiveness for Canadian markets” as it would increase marine shipping and contribute to business opportunities and economic development.

Given the impacts of COVID-19, the government has understandably extended the decision-making period on the project until November. When that time comes, the Canadian government will find itself staring down diverging pathways. The first is the path of the past: a nature-damaging infrastructure project that was conceived in the very-different economic circumstances of yesteryear. The other is a forward-looking path that incorporates the critical role of natural ecosystems in economic development and our health. This positioning requires a rethinking of how transport, industry and nature’s needs can be best harmonized within this vital marine gateway.

Nature Canada and Birds Canada urge the government to take the latter path, rather than approving the project for the sake of uncertain and costly economic gain. Roberts Bank is an opportunity for the Canadian government to chart economic recovery in a way that respects the interconnectedness between planetary health and a thriving economy. 

The environmental stakes are high. The area impacted by the proposed Terminal 2 project is home to more than 100 at-risk wildlife species. The delta has been designated as an internationally significant wetland as well as an important bird and biodiversity area.

It’s also a wildlife superhighway for pods of whales and endangered orcas, and our country’s largest migration of wild salmon. Even while human air travel is on hold, millions of migratory birds can be found flying along this corridor — including nearly the entire global population of western sandpipers and other shorebirds that rely on this vital feeding area when migrating between Alaska and Panama. 

Recent weeks have focused on humans as the at-risk species. Natural areas like the Fraser River Delta are critical for human health. Wetlands clean our water and air and provide a destination where we can seek solace in nature. Further, these territories are central to the tradition and identity of local First Nations, and any additional destruction of land risks health, culture and well-being. But there is no legal framework in place to protect the Fraser River Delta’s ecological health — and, in turn, the health of the people who depend on it.

Sandhill cranes are seen along the Fraser River Delta, a vital feeding area for migratory birds. Photo: Jerry McFarland / Flickr

The federal panel recommends developing a long-term intergovernmental environmental management plan for the Fraser River Delta and the Salish Sea. This makes eminent sense. This plan requires consultation and must be co-developed with local First Nations. Done well, the plan could chart a new future for the delta and demonstrate the government leadership needed to address not only COVID-19 recovery, but the world’s climate change and biodiversity crises, too.

The Canadian government has signalled its commitment to address the unfolding biodiversity crisis. Acting on an election promise, the government made historic commitments to safeguard habitat by protecting at least 25 per cent of land and ocean by 2025. 

We applaud this leadership, and it’s a critical step toward larger-scale protections for nature. But Canada is only about halfway to its targets. We need to make the right decisions today to conserve wildlife, invest in protected areas, and ensure nature thrives as a foundation for economic and social well-being.

Cabinet should say no to the Roberts Bank Terminal 2 project. The more we learn about the origins of this pandemic and its links to the destruction of natural habitat, the more apparent it becomes that biodiversity and natural ecosystems are integral to the survival of our future generations. 

There is no better or more important time to re-centre our commitment to nature and the health and well-being of our communities. This balance must include the places we have earmarked for intense economic development.

Canada has some of the world’s last wild places. Are we keeping our promise to protect them?

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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.

The University of British Columbia, which takes pride in promoting environmental responsibility and sustainability, is appealing a conviction for dumping fish-killing ammonia into a tributary of the Fraser River and, if the conviction is upheld, UBC will also appeal the $1.2 million fine that was designated for habitat restoration, arguing for a much-reduced fine.

The appeal has been heard in B.C. Supreme Court by Justice Neena Sharma, but no ruling has been made.

UBC spokesman Matthew Ramsey said, as the matter has not yet been settled, he cannot answer questions from The Narwhal on the reason for the appeal, who made the decision, the amount it is costing in legal fees and whether the case is being funded by public money.

“We are not commenting because the case is before the courts,” he said.

Last year the university was fined $1.15 million for releasing ammonia-laden water into a storm sewer and ditch connected to Booming Ground Creek, a fish-bearing stream that drains into the Fraser Estuary, in violation of the Fisheries Act. The university was fined a further $50,000 for failing to report the incident, which killed 70 fish, in a timely manner.

UBC did not report the spill to Environment Canada until three days later and argued at the Provincial Court trial that the delay amounted to a “technical breach.”

However, Justice Bonnie Craig, in her reasons for judgment, wrote: “Even this report was not initiated by UBC. It was a response to a request by Environment Canada for a report of the incident.”

“There was no evidence that UBC had a system in place to ensure employees understood their obligations to report under the Fisheries Act and followed through with those obligations,” she wrote.

CIMCO Refrigeration, a contractor working with UBC staff on the refrigeration plant at UBC’s Thunderbird Arena, pleaded guilty to depositing a deleterious substance into water that may be frequented by fish and was separately fined $800,000.

The university was ordered to conduct five years of electronic monitoring of storm-water quality in the area where the ammonia release occurred and the names of both the university and CIMCO have been added to the federal environmental offenders registry.

The ammonia-containing solution was released after Michael Paulson, a CIMCO mechanic, and Jeff Harley, chief engineer at the arena, worked on the ice rink refrigeration system. The discharge was described by Harley as “heavy-duty ammonia vapour going down the storm drain for about 15 to 30 minutes. Yet he permitted it to continue,” Craig wrote.

Harley also turned off ammonia alarms in the arena so they would not go off while the system was being worked on while there were members of the public in the arena.

“Mr. Harley told Mr. Paulson he did not want him to discharge the solution in the sanitary drain in the plant because he was concerned with ammonia vapours setting off the alarms in the arena. As a result, Mr. Paulson discharged the solution into a storm sewer drain located outside the building,” Craig wrote.

During the Provincial Court trial lawyers for UBC argued that Harley’s role in releasing the ammonia was “a mistake or a lapse in judgement.”

Three years later CIMCO was involved in a fatal ammonia leak at a municipal hockey rink in Fernie that killed two arena workers and a repairman.

The ammonia from the UBC arena killed fish in the creek, which runs through Pacific Spirit Park, and the strong smell of ammonia was reported by passersby.

A team with the Raincoast Conservation Foundation surveys juvenile salmon in the Lower Fraser where the organization has been improving fish access to Sturgeon Bank, a brackish marsh important for young salmon transitioning to salt water. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

Fines would help in much-needed restoration in Lower Fraser

All the fines resulting from the incident are intended to go to the federal government’s Environmental Damages Fund and are expected to be used to help organizations involved in Fraser River fish habitat restoration, such as Raincoast Conservation Foundation, Rivershed Society of B.C. and the Pacific Salmon Foundation.

But UBC is fighting the conviction and seeking a reduction in fines.

The decision to appeal is puzzling, Fin Donnelly, Rivershed Society founder and chair, told The Narwhal.

“I don’t know why they are appealing. I think the judge was very clear in his ruling, saying that the award needs to go to restoration and remediation — although you can never really fully remediate what happens in terms of the damage it caused to the environment,” he said.

“Obviously we know that, especially where this happened — in the Lower Fraser, in the estuary — there’s a significant threat to the ecosystem, so looking at restoration is one way to make amends,” said Donnelly, former NDP MP for Port Moody-Coquitlam.

The uncertain fate of the lower Fraser River’s last salmon island strongholds

UBC has very publicly focused on becoming a sustainable university, Donnelly noted.

“So I would encourage them to aspire to what they are trying to teach to their students and to the world. I think we can all improve our practices,” he said.

A change that has been made since the 2014 ammonia dump is that staff at UBC’s athletics department have undergone extensive training in procedures to prevent pollution entering storm water drains and sanitary sewers.

The procedure requires approval from UBC’s Environment Management Services before any effluent is discharged down a storm drain and was in place before the ammonia incident, but had not been implemented in the athletics department.

“Had this procedure been in place in the arena on Sept. 12, 2014, it would have prevented the discharge of the ammonia solution into the storm drain,” Craig wrote.

The discharge was into one of the most heavily polluted areas of the Fraser River system, where huge amounts of habitat has been lost and the ammonia release “certainly didn’t help,” said Donnelly, who is heading an effort to raise $500 million over 10 years for habitat restoration in the watershed.

Donnelly said his organization has already secured a philanthropic contribution of $50 million and is proposing the province contribute $150 million and the federal government $300 million to the effort spread out over the next decade.

The Rivershed Society of B.C. and the Pacific Salmon Foundation have talked to representatives from the Environmental Damages Fund and put in a proposal for a restoration project in the estuary, with an education proponent, but have not yet heard back, Donnelly said.

How scientists are giving Fraser River salmon a fresh chance

David Scott, a biologist with Raincoast Conservation and a PhD student at UBC, said Raincoast is specifically eyeing the fines for potential restoration projects in the Fraser.

“If they do pay the fine it should go into the Environmental Damages Fund and then be available for restoration projects in the vicinity where the offence occurred. … I’m not sure of the grounds for appealing, but it’s a pretty big fine … we could definitely use it,” Scott said.

The creek where the ammonia killed fish meets the the north arm of the Fraser just before the river meets the ocean and Raincoast is interested in doing restoration in that area, Scott said.

“There’s been a lot of loss of habitat and impacts to connectivity because, in that area of the river, there are a couple of jetties and causeways that really disconnect all the habitats,” he said.

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.

At 1,375 kilometres, the Fraser River is the longest in British Columbia. Much of the province’s population is situated along the river’s meandering basin. 

Its waters are home to countless species, including the prehistoric white sturgeon. 

The 80-kilometre stretch between Mission and Hope, known as ‘the heart of the Fraser,’ is one of the most productive river channels in the world.

Yet the small islands in the heart of the Fraser, known as island nurseries for juvenile fish, are being logged and developed for agriculture in a manner scientists fear could be the undoing of this unique and fragile ecosystem. 

This collection of photos is curated from the newly released book, The Heart of the Fraser, by Ken Ashley, director of the BCIT Rivers Institute. 

The book, which includes a collection of essays, outlines the importance of this stretch of river for locals residents and Indigenous communities who are already witnessing the impact of climate change in its waters.

Pink salmon (Oncorhynchus gorbuscha) are also known as ‘humpies’ due to the big hump they develop during the spawning season. Photo: Fernando Lessa

The ever-changing Fraser River landscape. Flood zones surrounding the river’s islands provide important fish nurseries. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Fin Donnelly, a member of Parliament representing Port Moody-Coquitla, is a long-time Fraser River advocate and swimmer. Photo: Fernando Lessa

A female pink salmon (Oncorhynchus gorbuscha) digs in the Fraser’s gravel to bury her eggs. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Only a few side channels along the 80-kilometre stretch known as ‘the heart of the Fraser’ still have their original vegetation. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Eddie Gardner, a member of Skwah First Nation and long-time wild salmon advocate, is a contributor to The Heart of the Fraser. Photo: Fernando Lessa

A school of pink salmon using the coveted gravel of Herrling Island to spawn. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Large, clear pools of water pools can become disconnected from the river’s main stem during winter months and serve as important spots for juvenile fish. This particular patch of water is hemmed in between a logged island and the TransCanada highway. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Autumn colours in the Fraser Valley. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Bald eagles are attracted to the rich ecosystem of the Fraser River. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Security diver, Rick Hurley. Photos published in The Heart of the Fraser will be the first photo documentation of the white sturgeon underwater in the Fraser River. Photo: Fernando Lessa

A female pink salmon (Oncorhynchus gorbuscha) protects her eggs in a small tributary on Herrling Island. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Dark sand offsets the soft pink of salmon eggs, visible in the centre of this image. At closer range, the eyes of the embryo are visible through the translucent sac. Photo: Fernando Lessa

A black bear paw print in the Fraser. Black bears are an essential species for a healthy ecosystem here. Photo: Fernando Lessa

A colourful spawning salmon in the waters of the lower Fraser. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Dead salmon decompose on the rocky bank of the Fraser. Decomposing fish fertilize the surrounding soils and waters for future generations. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Chinook salmon (Oncorhynchus tshawytscha) are the biggest species of Pacific salmon. The Fraser River watershed is known for being the largest producer of Chinook in Canada, but due to overfishing, habitat loss and climate change, their numbers are diminishing. Of the thirteen wild Fraser River Chinook salmon populations assessed by DFO, only one is not at risk. Photo: Fernando Lessa

Most species of salmonids use the side channels for juvenile rearing. Some species spend up to two years here before heading out to the ocean. Photo: Fernando Lessa

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The sight of dozens of tiny chum and chinook salmon funnelled into a trap by special nets sent biologists from Raincoast Conservation Foundation into an excited frenzy of high-fives as they squelched through the muddy waters of the Lower Fraser tidal marsh.

“We were in our waders, waving our nets and jumping up and down in the estuary,” said Misty MacDuffee, Raincoast’s wild salmon program director.

As the group was setting the nets in March, weeks after knocking holes in the Steveston jetty, it was difficult to see the fish because of cloudy water, but then it became apparent that juvenile salmon were moving through the newly created passages into the relative safety of the marsh, said Dave Scott, Raincoast’s Lower Fraser salmon program coordinator.

“We were ecstatic to see it was working. Seeing those fish made us realize that what we were doing was really necessary,” he said.

Dave Scott, Lower Fraser salmon program coordinator with a team from the Raincoast Conservation Foundation, nets juvenile salmon accessing Sturgeon Bank through the recently punctured Steveston jetty. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

The importance of estuaries

It is rare for a habitat restoration project to show such instant signs of success, but creating breaches in the eight-kilometre Steveston jetty, which controls the main arm of the Fraser River as it enters the estuary, offered an almost immediate payoff.

The jetty, constructed from rock rubble between 1911 and 1933, means juvenile salmon leaving their freshwater birthplaces are blocked from the calm side channels of the estuary. So, instead of spending time growing and feeding in the brackish marshes of Sturgeon Bank, they are likely to be whooshed out into the Strait of Georgia before they adjust to salt water living.

The fish, which are less than five centimetres long at that stage in their lives, must go through physiological changes before they head out to sea.

The lower Fraser River. The Steveston jetty prevents juvenile salmon from accessing the estuary zone in Sturgeon Bank. A habitat connectivity project managed by the Raincoast Conservation Project is changing that. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

As salmon move from freshwater, where they have been incubated as eggs, they are transformed through a smoltification process before they hit salt water, said Murray Manson, restoration biologist with Fisheries and Oceans Canada, which is funding the project through the federal government’s coastal restoration fund.

But that is not easy for small fish in the Fraser where jetties and dredging in the main channel are designed to move water to the ocean as fast as possible. The original aim was to help ships navigate their way quickly into the Strait of Georgia and stop sediment gathering in the main shipping channel.

There is one opportunity for the fish to make an exit and get into the marsh in front of Sturgeon Bank and, if they miss it, they are pushed out into the Salish Sea, MacDuffee said.

“If you are a tiny little fish who wants to stay in shallow, fresh protected water, Georgia Strait is not where you want to end up,” she said.

MacDuffee holds up juvenile salmon captured along the Steveston jetty in March. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

“They don’t want to go out there until they have been able to spend time acclimatizing and going through this physiological transformation. They are moving from freshwater, where they are always trying to keep their mineral balance and their salts held in, to going into salt water where they are always trying to keep salt from getting into their bodies. Everything has to reverse for them,” she said.

So, at a time when the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife in Canada (COSEWIC) is reporting that eight of B.C.’s chinook populations are endangered, four are threatened and one is considered of special concern, the sight of the young chinook and chum using breaches in the jetty to get to safer waters was inspiring.

“There they were, just moving through all the channels that had just been created. One of our engineers said that, if we just get all the rock and hard material that forms the jetty out of the way, nature will do the rest. Nature will carve the path through the marsh, behind the breaches,” MacDuffee said.

The initial work, researched by Raincoast biologists, saw a clamshell dredger chomping lumps out of the jetty and it is expected that when the Fraser is running high it will scour out the breaches, naturally helping the process.

A clamshell digger removes jetty materials used to modify flow of the Lower Fraser River since the early 20th century. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

The Raincoast team surveying for tiny juvenile salmon along the Steveston jetty. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

The Raincoast team in the lower Fraser River. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

Provided ongoing monitoring shows the plan is continuing to work, the 50-metre wide breaches will be deepened next year.

“The breaches are being cut in two phases. We will see how they behave over the next couple of months and then we will hopefully cut down a little deeper so (the jetty) is open over a broader range of tide cycles,” Manson said.

Development around the Lower Fraser estuary has meant dykes, fish-killing pump stations, dredging and infilling, Manson said.

“Sometimes people aren’t even aware that large areas of land used either for terminals or even neighbourhoods are built on infilled marshland that used to be tidal and used to have small channels that the juvenile chinook would move into,” he said.

“You couldn’t really plan out out a better way to try and remove a species.”

The breaches, while are unlikely to affect shipping, are likely to provide side benefits to areas such as Delta and Richmond as the changes are expected to improve the Sturgeon Bank ecosystem by washing fine sediment into the marsh instead of powering it out to sea.

“The area we are connecting the river to is really being starved of that sediment. It is being forced out into the middle of the Strait instead of helping build a healthy delta and a healthy marsh. We are hoping and expecting that by providing more fine sediment along Sturgeon Bank it will help the delta grow and the delta is the City of Richmond’s primary defence against sea-level rise,” Scott said.

A perforated Steveston jetty will provide connectivity for juvenile salmon needing to pass from the Lower Fraser River to Sturgeon Bank. Photo: Alex Harris / Raincoast

Hope for endangered killer whales

Hopes are running high that restoring parts of the Lower Fraser habitat to help struggling chinook populations will also provide more food for the dwindling population of southern resident killer whales, whose primary source of food is chinook.

“The best investment both for chinook salmon and for southern resident killer whales is in restoring wild salmon populations — getting away from hatcheries — and getting the habitat back so the salmon can come and spawn in the places they have spawned for thousands and thousands of years,” MacDuffee said.

“The recovery of wild salmon is the best hope for the southern resident killer whales.”

The three southern resident killer whale pods have been reduced to 74 animals and studies have established that the greatest threats faced by the whales are lack of prey, contaminants and noise disturbance. The whales will face additional threats from increased oil tanker traffic if the Trans Mountain pipeline expansion is approved by the federal government in June.

“When we thought about priorities for the (coastal restoration) fund, right at the forefront was trying to get chinook populations in better shape, not only for the chinook, but for the species that rely on them like southern resident killer whales,” Manson said.

The initial success of the project shows that small-scale habitat restoration projects can make a significant difference, Scott said.

While big dams on rivers such as the Snake in Washington State, which block adult spawners, are an obvious impediment to salmon population recovery, smaller scale projects can have a noticeable impact, he said.

“They may not be as obvious as those really big pieces of infrastructure but these smaller ones can be really important,” Scott said.

The aim of the $75-million coastal restoration fund — part of the federal five-year, $1.5-billion oceans protection plan — is to restore vulnerable coastline areas and protect marine life and ecosystems.

In addition to the five-year Raincoast project, which is receiving $2.7 million, other projects on the Lower Fraser include a similar effort by Ducks Unlimited Canada and a project in partnership with the Fraser Valley Watersheds Coalition, to reclaim a gravel pit near Hope that has become a killing ground for young salmon.

The Tom Berry Gravel Pit, which was used during construction of the Coquihalla Highway in the 1980s, is beside the Fraser River and floods every year during the spring freshet, trapping young salmon, which are then stranded when the water recedes.

The project is returning the gravel pit to natural floodplain habitat, so small fish will be able to return to the river instead of dying in the pit.

But more needs to be done, MacDuffee emphasized.

“The most important thing is we have to stop destroying what’s left of the habitat in the Lower Fraser. There are a lot of proposals in the works right now that would erode and degrade those remaining stretches of habitat that still function,” she said pointing to LNG storage and export proposals and the Terminal Two plan, now under review, to expand cargo handling capacity at Roberts Bank.

“We have got to stop making the mistakes of the past and making decisions to facilitate industry … At a time when we need to be going in the other direction and restoring lost habitat, we are still undercutting and undermining the habitat that we have,” she said.

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Three of the last un-diked islands on the lower Fraser River have been bought by developers and heavily logged, threatening the most productive habitat stronghold for salmon and white sturgeon left in the entire Fraser watershed.

Fisheries scientist Marvin Rosenau, an instructor in the British Columbia Institute of Technology’s fish, wildlife and recreation program, found out about it by accident. Back in June 2017, he was driving home to Abbotsford from a fishing trip in the interior, when he turned a bend just above Bridal Falls and looked down at Herrling Island.

“The whole landscape was bereft of trees,” he said of the 780-hectare island in the main stem of the Fraser River about 20 km northeast of Chilliwack. “It just ripped my guts out to see that.”

For Rosenau, a biologist and obsessive sports fisherman who has dedicated over 30 years to protecting the river, it was just the latest calamity for the Heart of the Fraser, one of the planet’s most productive networks of fish-friendly channels, islands and wetlands stretching 80 kilometres between Mission and the town of Hope.

For more than a decade he battled Fraser Valley developers who dug up large amounts of gravel from this stretch of river, under the guise of “flood protection” — resulting in massive salmon mortalities and, critics claim, permanent changes to the structure and flow of the river between Mission and the Harrison River confluence.

More than two years after the purchases were made, the fate of the islands remains uncertain, as a coalition of conservation groups and allies rally to raise funds in a last-hour attempt to buy and protect them in perpetuity.

The importance of saving these last island nurseries at this moment — in the wake of ongoing valley development, poor salmon marine survival, climate change and much more — cannot be understated, Rosenau says.

“This is life or death for an entire ecosystem.”

A logged section of Herrling Island in February 2018. The channel to the left is among the most important white sturgeon habitat left on the entire Fraser River, providing critical spawning habitat during spring freshet. Photo: Jayce Hawkins / The Narwhal

Why are the islands so important?

For all the Fraser salmon born in natal streams stretching from nearby Harrison Lake to the headwaters about 1,300 kilometres upstream, this lower Fraser habitat is a critical life-line for juveniles as they migrate to the estuary and into the Salish sea.

Today, 30 species of fish rear, spawn and migrate through this area — including the world’s biggest remaining run of pink salmon.

Then there’s the freshet. Each spring the islands are partially flooded, converting dry land into the perfect shallow-water habitat for rearing sturgeon and salmon. As the fish move onto these island shallows, they find food and protection from the fast-flowing floodwaters. In the case of Herrling Island, sturgeon spawn and rear in the narrow, long channel between the island and the mainland.

Such seasonally flooded habitats have become rare: most of the lower Fraser’s foreshore wetlands, marshes, islands and riparian forests have been logged, diked, drained and converted to farming since the arrival of settlers in the late 1800s.

Chinook stocks need this habitat

The situation is particularly dire for the Fraser chinook stocks that have collapsed or are approaching collapse. A late November 2018 assessment by the Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife In Canada (COSEWIC) found that seven stocks on the Fraser and the Thompson (a Fraser tributary) are endangered; four, including two on the lower Fraser, are threatened, and one is of special concern.

Mark Angelo, an advisory member on the board of the 100,000-member Outdoor Recreation Council of B.C., who has been named to both the Order of Canada and British Columbia for his river conservation work, says this island habitat is critical to the health of these fish if they are to recover.

“Pretty much every chinook that comes out of the Fraser spends time in and around these islands,” says Angelo, who is one of the leaders behind the push to organize an islands purchase. “From Herrling Island all the way down to Strawberry Island, you are talking hundreds of millions of juvenile salmon that rear within that space.”

The frozen back channel of Herrling Island, with the Cascade Mountains in the background. The new owners have applied to build a private bridge, which would destroy sturgeon habitat near this spot. Photo: Jayce Hawkins / The Narwhal

Fraser chinook feed endangered killer whales

The same chinook that rear on the lower Fraser, will eventually migrate into the ocean, where they will become the primary food source for endangered southern resident killer whales.

Misty MacDuffee, a biologist with Raincoast Conservation Foundation’s wild salmon program, says resident killer whales historically relied on Fraser chinook year-round, including during the spring, when more than 100,000 would return to the Fraser.

But in the last 20 years, the early-timed chinook runs from April to July have completely collapsed, she says. That’s why protecting the remnants of the lower Fraser’s critical floodplain habitat is now so critical.

“You can draw a straight line between the health of Fraser chinook and southern resident killer whales.”

How the islands ended up for sale

Back in summer 2017, Rosenau made inquiries and confirmed that Herrling and two other un-diked Fraser islands (nearby Carey island (500 hectares) and Strawberry Island (about 400 hectares, located near Mission) had been sold to three separate developers.

Prior to their sale, all three islands were owned by Krueger Products, a pulp and paper company, which operated super-fast-growing hybrid cottonwood plantations on Herrling, Carey and Strawberry islands.

From 1985 onwards, much of the land (then owned by Scott Paper) was mechanically cleared and later applied with as much as 30 tonnes per hectare of waste sludge from pulp mills and sewage treatment plants — including human “biosolid” fertilizer from Metro Vancouver’s Annacis Island wastewater plant — despite concerns about copper and endocrine-disrupting compounds in the waste. All of this in the name of growing pulp for toilet paper, manufactured at the New Westminster mill.

Impacted though they were, the plantation islands were never diked — meaning that the critical seasonal pulse of floodwater that creates such amazing fish habitat for months beginning around March remained intact.

When Krueger decided to sell the islands, there was an initial opportunity to purchase them for conservation, but when that fell through, Herrling was bought by a company run by the Klaassen family, a prominent Fraser Valley family that also owns Jake’s Gravel, one of the biggest gravel concerns in the valley. Carey Island was bought by members of the Guliker family, another valley family with large agricultural holdings. Strawberry is owned by a businessman with construction interests in Washington state and B.C.’s Lower Mainland. All three islands are now in the agricultural land reserve.

The challenges of building dikes and bridges

All three islands were heavily logged after purchase, especially the parcel on Strawberry Island, which has been scalped right to the banks.

The developers plan to convert each island into farmland to grow blueberries, livestock and other cash crops. But for this to happen, Rosenau says the next step will be to build bridges and dikes to enable year-round access.

Dikes do not come cheaply: at about $100,000 per metre, it could cost as much as $140 million to dike Herrling island alone — although the cost would be lower given the new owners’ existing construction and gravel companies.

Meanwhile the applications for permits to build private bridges to Herring and Carey islands continue to languish nearly two years after being filed with the province.

A spokesperson for the provincial Ministry of Forests, Lands, Natural Resource Operations and Rural Development said the two bridge applications remain undecided, and that time has been required to consult with local First Nations.

But an exchange in the legislature involving Environment Minister George Heyman indicated that the destruction of prized sturgeon habitat by bridge infrastructure is also an issue in the delay.

Much of un-diked Strawberry Island, near Mission, was clear-cut to the banks by the new owners. The island itself becomes important fish habitat for months on end during freshet; Nicomen Slough (in the foreground) also provides important rearing spots for juvenile chinook salmon and white sturgeon throughout the year. Photo: Jayce Hawkins / The Narwhal

Ottawa orders ‘corrective measures’

In late November of last year, the Department of Fisheries and Oceans ordered the new owners of Herrling and Carey islands to take “corrective measures” for unspecified damage on their respective islands.

In an e-mail to The Narwhal, the department would not confirm what specifically the owners were correcting, or whether a wider investigation is ongoing. The spokesperson also wouldn’t comment on whether the federal government would permit dikes to be built around Carey or Herrling islands.

Rosenau thinks that skirting federal law will be a problem for the developers.

“Destroying that island [Herrling] is ‘serious harm’ [under the federal Fisheries Act],” he says. “You can’t put a dike there. And if you can’t put a dike there, that property is worth nothing.”

Klaassen Farms’ Jake Klaassen was not available to answer questions.

The alternative: buying the islands for conservation

Another potential future for Herrling and Carey is to be bought for conservation. Angelo confirmed that efforts are now afoot (with the participation of the Nature Conservancy of Canada and environmental groups like Watershed Watch Salmon Society) to pull together funding through a “private-public consortium.”

(The Ministry of Forests, Lands, Natural Resource Operations and Rural Development would not confirm if it is involved in funding efforts to buy the islands, other than saying, “the focus of the province remains on conservation and protection of environmental values of the area, regardless of ownership.”)

If enough money can be raised, Angelo says the goal will be to purchase, secure, protect and restore the two islands. This could eventually also include Strawberry Island.

“We have no interest in holding title ourselves,” wrote Angelo by e-mail on February 14. “Rather, it would be most appropriate if title was jointly held by the Nature Conservancy of Canada, the Stó:lō and other First Nations.

Coming to such an arrangement will be a complex political undertaking. The Fraser Valley is home to the Stó:lō Nation — a Chilliwack-based, political amalgamation of eleven Stó:lō communities along the lower Fraser, each with its own independent voice. The same goes for another eight local First Nations under the banner of the Stó:lō Tribal Council. Some local First Nations are not members of either.

Complicating the situation is the past friction between conservationists and some First Nations over gravel mining in the Fraser Valley — for example, local First Nations like Cheam and Seabird Island have in the past had relationships with the construction and gravel interests of the Klaassen family, who now own Herrling island.

Cheam First Nation Chief Ernie Crey and representatives of the Stó:lō Nation did not reply to requests for comment by press time.

The un-diked coast of Carey Island stands in contrast to the heavily armoured coastline — and it’s this lack of flood control that makes it such amazing fish habitat. Photo: Supplied.

Seabird Island not on board

Seabird Island First Nation Chief Clem Seymour says he has not been approached by Angelo or conservation interests about the islands to date. “They need to talk to our people though, because [Herrling island] is right at our front door,” he said.

Herrling Island takes its name from Seabird Island band member Elizabeth Herrling, who lived on the island highlands for about 40 years before moving back to the mainland, Seymour says.

Habitat loss is an important issue on the lower Fraser, he says, but the biggest cause is the build-up of gravel in the Heart of the Fraser — the removal of which prominent conservationists have fought to limit.

Seymour doesn’t think the conversion of Herrling to agriculture is a problem. “All it’s going to be used for is a blueberry farm,” he said, adding he doesn’t think a dike will be necessary. Concerns about the impact of dikes on fish habitat are a “scare tactic,” he says, used by conservationists to raise money to buy the islands.

“And I don’t know if [the island owners] are going to make very much money on it, they’ll probably spend a lot of years paying [for] that bridge.”

The view from Sts’ailes

Willy Charlie, a former chief, councillor and the current chief administrator for the nearby Sts’ailes First Nation, says they have already talked with Angelo about protecting the islands.

Sts’ailes’ traditional territory includes parts of the lower Fraser and Harrison River watershed — the latter being among the largest and best chinook salmon spawning areas left in the entire Fraser system. Charlie says a lot of the Harrison chinook rely on the health of the main-stem Fraser for their survival as they “run the gauntlet” on their way to the estuary and sea.

He says that Sts’ailes support the idea of protecting the two islands for fish habitat, and of creating some kind of title-sharing arrangement involving the First Nations of the lower Fraser. (A call to Chief Ralph Leon Jr. of Sts’ailes First Nation was not returned by deadline).

“We think this kind of arrangement, where we come together as a collective to look after fish habitat can happen and should happen,” he says. “We all have the same interest.”

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