This story is published courtesy of the Guardian as part of the ongoing series This Land is Your Land.

First Nations and conservationists are warning that Pacific herring populations are “collapsing” off Canada’s western coast, and are appealing for a moratorium on commercial fishing until the critical species can rebuild.

Emmie Page, a marine campaigner with the organization Pacific Wild, said in the past, five large commercial herring fisheries opened each year on the coast.

“Four have since closed because they have very little to no spawn,” she said.

A recent report by Pacific Wild concludes that the Pacific herring fishery is unsustainable and warns that if the government continues to allow fishing at the current level, “herring along Canada’s west coast will teeter on the edge of complete collapse.”

“Currently, we are managing herring to economic and biological decimation,” the report argued.

The small, oily fish are a key food source for various species along the coast including chinook salmon, which are in turn the main food source for endangered southern resident killer whales. According to Pacific Wild, up to 88 per cent of the commercial catch is reduced to meal and oil to feed farmed Atlantic salmon. Herring roe, equaling about 12 per cent of the catch, is sold, but declining in value, the group’s analysis states.

The Tsawout hereditary chief, Eric Pelkey, said his community enjoyed a healthy herring fishery for generations, and it was a staple food in his community as well as a valued trading item. He added that his nation hasn’t been able to fish for herring for about two decades because the stocks have been decimated.

“There’s no availability to us in our area, our people haven’t been accessing the fishery, there’s been very little herring in our territory,” he said in an interview.

“It is pretty apparent to everybody that it’s collapsing.”

Pacific herring play a crucial role in the ecosystem off the coast of B.C. The small fish are a key food source chinook salmon and other coastal species. They are also a staple food for many First Nations. Photo: Ian McAllister / Pacific Wild

The W̱SÁNEĆ Leadership Council, which represents Pelkey’s nation and two others, has written letters to the fisheries minister asking for a moratorium on commercial Pacific herring fishing since February 2020, but has never received a response, Pelkey said.

The fisheries department said it was committed to responsibly managing the commercial Pacific herring fisheries to ensure the sustainability of the stock. It says that herring populations have long been stable in the remaining major fishery, which opened this year at a 20 per cent harvest rate.

Read more: B.C.’s last great herring fishery

“Herring populations naturally fluctuate from year to year,” it said. “The department’s management approach is designed to respond to a varying abundance of herring by adjusting fishing opportunities accordingly to protect the stock.”

Another First Nation, the Gwa’sala-’Nakwaxda’xw Nations, recently filed an injunction application in federal court seeking to stop the fisheries department from granting a smaller commercial herring fishing license in its territories. It was denied.

Seine net fishing boats harvesting herring in the Strait of Georgia, the location of B.C.’s last commercial herring harvest. Photo: Ian McAllister / Pacific Wild

The nation said in a statement that for the third year in a row, community members will need to purchase herring roe from other nations instead of harvesting it themselves, out of concern for dwindling herring numbers.

“We continue to be surprised by the way the Department of Fisheries and Oceans ignores our input and concerns,” said Patty Walkus, elected chief.

“We have been fishing these waters for thousands of years … We are extremely disappointed that, once again, our traditional laws and knowledge have not been taken into account.”

Pacific herring is a coastal schooling species that can be found from Alaska to Mexico. In the U.S., scientists have also marked declines in certain Pacific herring populations, but did not consider them significant enough to warrant listing herring under the Endangered Species Act, according to the U.S. National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration.

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 least a quarter of major fish stocks in Canada are in decline, but efforts to rebuild them  — such as closing fisheries or setting catch limits — are often met with strong opposition due to negative socioeconomic effects. Now a new study by University of British Columbia researchers shows the short-term financial pain can lead to long-term gain — and that pain can be eased by providing fishers with social and economic assistance.

The study, published in the September 2020 issue of Ocean & Coastal Management, found the most optimistic rebuilding scenario would lead to economic gains of up to 10 times above the status quo after 30 years for five of the six studied species. The analysis also found the gains would continue to climb over 50 and 100 years.

“If you look at societal, national or provincial problems, the struggle between the short term and the long term is huge. Most of us think of today, today, today,” co-author and professor of bioeconomics Rashid Sumaila said in an interview. 

Sumaila said the First Nations concept of creating sustainability over multiple generations inspired his work. 

“We shouldn’t discount the fish of our grandchildren.” 

University of British Columbia professor of bioeconomics Rashid Sumaila says it’s important to look far into the future when deciding how to manage decline fish stocks today. Photo: Martin Dee / UBC

Rebuilding would result in gains for Pacific herring, losses for yelloweye rockfish

In the study, the researchers looked at six Canadian fish stocks — Pacific and Atlantic herring, Atlantic cod, Atlantic redfish, west coast Vancouver Island chinook and Vancouver Island yelloweye rockfish — under six scenarios. 

The species were selected for their role in commercial and recreational fisheries as well as their importance to First Nations. Apart from Pacific herring, they are all in decline, according to Fisheries and Oceans Canada. (However, groups such as Pacific Wild claim there is insufficient data to say Pacific herring is not in decline.)

The researchers considered if the fisheries were closed or if a low level of catch was permitted and if the fish had fast, slow or expected biological responses. The length of the closures and restriction periods depended on the species and speed of recovery, ranging from a few years to several decades. The researchers then projected the catch for each stock under each scenario for 30, 50 and 100 years and calculated the net benefit. 

The study showed that in most cases, closing a fishery would result in higher economic gains than setting low-catch limits. While closing a fishery leads to higher economic losses at the outset than reducing the catch, when the species rebounds fishers can resume harvesting at higher levels than they could if the fishery was left open to a low catch. 

The Pacific herring fishery showed significant gains in every scenario. Costs associated with fishing for herring are extremely high, so any increase in the population will correspondingly increase profits. 

Chinook, on the other hand, saw negligible economic gains or losses under the different scenarios because the species is slow to rebound and the fishery fetches an estimated $57.5 million per year. Closing the chinook fishery, even for just a few years, means those losses would have to be made up by increased harvests as the population rebuilds. 

“If you leave nature alone, nature will come back … except if you destroy it completely.”

Rockfish showed losses under all of the scenarios. This is because the species has a significantly longer life cycle — about 18 years — than the other species studied. But Sumaila said that “given enough time and patience,” rockfish could recover enough to yield a positive economic benefit. 

“When you have slow recovery, economists will tell you it’s not worthwhile. I really struggle with this,” he said. “If you leave nature alone, nature will come back … except if you destroy it completely.”

Sumaila points to the Norwegian spring spawning herring. In the 1980s, he said the fish population was reduced to “almost zero,” despite a 1970 moratorium being placed on harvesting the species during the spawning season. It took over 20 years for the population to begin to bounce back and now, 50 years later, the fishery is thriving once again. 

Conservation scientist Michael Price said it’s hard to get people to look far into the future but agrees it’s necessary. “You do need to look at these longer timeframes.”

Price studied over 100 years of historical Skeena sockeye salmon data to build a better understanding of how a species responds over time. “There was a sockeye crash in the mid-1950s,” he said, “and 65 years later we’re seeing signs they have increased in abundance, but they’re nowhere near what they were in the 1940s.”

Conservation scientist Michael Price reviewed a century of Skeena sockeye salmon data, some of it contained in these old journals, to better understand how the species responds over time. Photo: Michael Price

Price is now studying salmon populations in Wet’suwet’en territory in northwest B.C., incorporating economics into the study in hopes it will have more impact with decision-makers. He said applying economic analysis to a conservation issue is “a step in the right direction.”

Economic modelling isn’t without limitations, Sumaila admitted, adding that there could be additional losses not accounted for, such as the loss of processing facilities and markets for species that aren’t harvested. 

Fish stocks in urgent need of rebuilding 

The six species in the study are all vitally important for supporting socioeconomic well-being in Canadian Pacific and Atlantic communities, according to the authors. The three Pacific fish species are particularly important as they play a key role in the social, cultural and food practices of First Nations. 

However, they all face a range of threats. While the analysis assumed that fishing is the primary factor driving exploitation of fish stock populations, climate change, plastic pollution in oceans and industrial development both upstream in watersheds and on the coast are responsible for additional pressures on numerous fish species. As The Narwhal recently reported, Fraser River sockeye are currently experiencing one of the lowest returns on record. 

The importance of starting to rebuild Canadian fisheries now can’t be overstated, Price said. 

“We’re having a hard time making a dramatic shift and saying enough is enough,” he said. “It’s almost like we’re waiting for the final blow to make that call. And then what else are you going to do except say there’s no fishing because there’s no fish?”

Fisheries and Oceans Canada slow to implement rebuilding plans

In June 2019, Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO) made a suite of changes to the Fisheries Act, including mandating that depleted fish stocks require rebuilding plans. 

According to the federal agency’s 2018 Fisheries Sustainability Survey, only 58 of 177 major stocks assessed were at healthy levels.  

In an emailed statement, the federal agency told The Narwhal its focus is on rebuilding stocks for the 19 species listed as critical on the survey, including Pacific and Atlantic herring, Atlantic cod and yelloweye rockfish.

Yelloweye rockfish was listed as critical on Fisheries and Oceans Canada’s 2018 Fisheries Sustainability Survey. Photo: California Department of Fish and Wildlife

Since the 2018 survey, Fisheries and Oceans Canada has completed rebuilding plans for six species, and a further two have improved to the point where they are no longer in the critical zone. 

“For the remaining priority stocks without rebuilding plans, DFO has specific fishery management measures in place, based on the best available science,” the statement said. “These measures will ensure that the limited fishing of the stocks does not compromise their rebuilding.”

In advance of the changes to the Fisheries Act, the federal government committed $107 million to support the rebuilding efforts. “To contribute to better managed fisheries, these resources will increase scientific capacity for stock assessment of Canada’s fish stocks,” the statement said.

This is important because 41 per cent of major fish stocks in Canada are classified as uncertain, which means experts don’t know enough about them to gauge whether their populations are healthy or threatened. Without additional scientific data, these species will continue to be harvested, albeit on a cautious basis. 

Critics say the rebuilding plans that have been developed fall short, pointing in particular to an absence of legally binding requirements and a lack of specific management strategies.

Sumaila hopes people in the fishing sector can use the information from his study to pressure the government to implement the rebuilding plans that have been mandated. 

He explained that it can be a hard sell to close an entire fishery for an extended period of time, but new organizations like the B.C.Young Fishermen’s Network are willing to listen. 

“A lot of young people say, ‘Look, we want to be able to fish but in this smart, intelligent, sustainable way.’ It meets societal and food needs without wrecking the fisheries.”

Social and economic support for fishers key to rebuilding stocks 

More than 5,000 fishers — about 12 per cent of all Canadian harvesters — are involved in the six stocks examined in the study and closing fisheries or setting catch limits can have a range of negative effects on them, from wiping out their income to harming their physical and mental health by eliminating an important food source and cultural practice. 

Both Price and Sumaila warned that continuing to commercially harvest a declining fishery doesn’t ultimately help the fishers in the long term. 

“Are we really doing people any favours by helping them limp along?” Price asked. “For salmon, some years there’s a commercial fishery, some years there isn’t — people are kind of just hanging on life support.” 

Fishing is a vital part of the food security, health, livelihoods and cultural practices of thousands of Indigenous people in Canada. Here, Troy Jack stands in a salmon smoke house in Bella Bella, B.C. Photo: Louis Whitehouse / The Narwhal

But both also agree there needs to be support for the industry. 

To mitigate negative effects, Sumaila suggested the federal government implement economic and social assistance programs to help fishers transition out of fishing or provide them with alternative sources of income during the rebuilding period.

Sumaila said he was involved in a study of Hong Kong fisheries struggling with overfishing and over 75 per cent of the fishers surveyed said they would be happy to transition out of the industry given sufficient support. In that study, the transition model included supporting fishers to launch ecotourism operations and become whale- and dolphin-watching guides. 

“If we could help people to find alternative jobs, this could lead to an amazing change, socially and ecologically. Meanwhile, we’re giving out subsidies to help them go farther and deeper,” he said, referring to subsidizing fuel costs for large-scale commercial fisheries. 

Sumaila said closing a fishery for several years or decades will always be challenging, but the rewards are there waiting. “The ultimate goal is to stop harming the fish and their habitat and their ecosystem so they can regenerate year in and year out.” 

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.

Fisheries and Oceans Canada’s decision to cancel underwater surveys of the declining herring population near Haida Gwaii is raising alarm among those concerned for the survival of the species. 

Pacific herring stocks have declined an estimated 60 per cent over the past four years, according to biomass surveys done by Fisheries and Oceans Canada (DFO), which is responsible for monitoring the health of the species and setting quotas for fishing licences.

Due to COVID-19 safety concerns, dive surveys, in which divers count the number of eggs in an area to estimate the number of fish that will spawn, are being replaced with surface measurements to make biomass forecasts. Surface surveys involve mapping and measuring herring spawn from the land, boats or, at times, airplanes. 

Ian McAllister, executive director of conservation group Pacific Wild, said surface measurements don’t paint an accurate portrait of the spring herring spawn, which is used to determine responsible harvest quotas.

“If they’re not actually going down and looking at the survivorship of eggs, the thickness of the eggs and the distribution and abundance of them, which can only be done underwater, then it puts the forecast in significant question,” he said.

Each spring herring bring a unique spawning ritual to the B.C. coast. Thousands of tonnes of herring migrate to the shoreline to fill the water with eggs, usually deposited on seaweed and other plantlife, and milt, which turns the water a milky white for stretches that can be kilometres long. 

Seine net fishing boats harvesting herring in the Strait of Georgia, the location of B.C.’s last commercial herring harvest. Photo: Ian McAllister / Pacific Wild

The white waters are a telltale sign of the herring spawn, but only so much can be seen from the surface, said McAllister, who is working on a herring conservation campaign with Pacific Wild that aims to close the last herring commercial fishery in the Strait of Georgia. 

Predators can consume an enormous amount of the eggs, which can also be dislodged by storms, he said. 

“All that’s unknown unless you’re down below.” 

Fisheries and Oceans Canada did not respond to The Narwhal’s request for comment after 11 days. It’s unknown whether dive surveys will return next year. 

‘What is the harm of leaving too much in the ocean?’

Herring stock surveys — and the harvest quotas based upon them — have been a subject of roiling controversy in recent years. 

In the Strait of Georgia, home to B.C.’s last commercial herring fishery, harvest quotas are based on a 20 per cent take of the estimated biomass. 

In 2019, the quota was set based on a predicted return of 122,000 tonnes of herring, but fewer than 86,000 tonnes returned. As a result, an estimated 15 per cent of the season’s biomass was harvested. 

Since then, calls have resounded for Fisheries and Oceans Canada to close the Strait of Georgia fishery.

Herring spawning regions in B.C. Commercial herring harvest has been unpermitted in all spawning regions aside from the Strait of Georgia due to population declines. Map: Carol Linnitt / The Narwhal

Andrew Trites, a professor and director of the marine mammal research unit at the University of British Columbia, warns that without herring in our waters, there will be bigger problems.

“In B.C., herring is one of the most important species — it’s key prey for seabirds and for humpback whales, dolphins, harbor seals, for salmon and other fish,” he said, referring to herring as the “butter sticks of the sea.”

“They’re just full of fat. The key to life if you’re living in the ocean is having lots of fat in your diet, so the more calories, the better your chances are of surviving.”

Because many at-risk species depend on herring, including endangered chinook salmon and, in turn, orcas, Trites said careful stock assessments are crucial to ensure there’s an abundance to justify harvest.

“If you’re only looking at half a page of information … you have to be [cautious] of being too confident that you got it right,” he said.

“And what is the harm of leaving too much in the ocean?”

Herring, unlike salmon, are able to spawn for years throughout their lifespan. Female fish are harvested for their roe, while the male fish are ground up for pet food and are used in slurry to feed farmed salmon. 

“They’re the last of the buffalo … the foundation of our whole coast,” McAllister said.

“And we’re just harvesting them to be grounded up into fish farm feed and garden fertilizer — that’s the real tragedy.”

Lack of data going forward a concern

McAllister said a dive survey could have easily been conducted within the bounds of social distancing protocols.

When herring fisheries initially shut down, Fisheries and Oceans Canada started conducting dive surveys to help with their recovery. He added he is concerned the absence of data will have negative effects going forward. 

“Once they start eliminating all of these research projects and assessment projects, they rarely ever come back.” 

“I think that having no information is powerful for DFO. … If the public no longer has access to that data and we have no way of assessing the health of these stocks, that’s in the DFO’s best interest because they just continue to deny that there’s a problem,” McAllister explained. 

McAllister said he is worried Fisheries and Oceans Canada is “giving up on what once was one of the most productive herring locations on the B.C. coasts” if it permanently cancels the dive survey.

“Instead of the DFO being embarrassed every year for mismanaging the stock, they probably prefer to walk away from it.”

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.

Conservation groups are calling for the immediate closure of the herring fishery in the Strait of Georgia following the release of new federal government data showing a four-year population biomass decline of almost 60 per cent.

“We’ve been systematically overfishing these stocks and the Gulf of Georgia fishery is the last one left,” Pacific Wild co-founder Ian McAllister told The Narwhal.

“Now we’re finding out that it’s already in a state of collapse.”

Herring once spawned en masse in bays and inlets along the B.C. coast, turning waters chalky with eggs and milt in one of nature’s spectacular events.

Today, largely due to overfishing, the only remaining area of spawn is between Qualicum Beach and Comox. 

B.C.’s last great herring fishery

“The entire B.C. fishing fleet is now directing all of its efforts on this one population in the Strait of Georgia,” said McAllister, whose organization has been sounding the alarm bell about herring decline for years.

Herring are a primary food source for endangered Chinook salmon, which in turn comprise 80 per cent of the diet of highly endangered southern resident killer whales. 

“What we can’t understand is why they [the federal government] are spending hundreds of millions of dollars in recovery efforts for both salmon and whales while they’re liquidating their main food supply,” McAllister said.

The Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) data revealed the herring population biomass in the Strait of Georgia dwindled from about 130,000 metric tonnes in 2016 to about 86,000 metric tonnes in 2019. DFO predicts the population biomass will drop to just 54,200 tonnes in 2020. 

The new data also discloses that the returning herring population will consist of smaller and younger fish with lower reproductive capacity.

Herring fishing boats in the Strait of Georgia. Photo: Pacific Wild

Last year’s herring quota was about 21,000 tonnes, noted McAllister.

“People don’t really understand how much fish is taken out,” he said. “That’s the equivalent in weight of the largest class of B.C. ferry, full of fuel, oil and cars. That’s how much fish is taken out of the Strait of Georgia in just a one-week period.” 

The seine and gill net fishery, which begins at the end of February or early March, usually lasts one week to 10 days. 

Herring, a silvery fish that typically grow to just over 30 centimetres in length, spawn repeatedly  — unlike salmon, which spawn only once.

“That’s one of the reasons why the fishery is so unsustainable,” McAllister noted. 

“They’re killing the fish and extracting the roe [for sushi] and the rest of it is going to feed farmed salmon, feed lots and garden fertilizer. But the fish never gets to spawn again. It’s hugely unsustainable in that regard.” 

Herring during the 2018 spawning season in British Columbia. Photo: Pacific Wild

McAllister said the new data contrasts sharply with federal Fisheries Minister Jonathan Wilkinson’s assurance earlier this year in the House of Commons that decisions about the commercial herring fishery are based on the “abundance of the stock that exists there” and grounded in science. 

“And then we find out months later that they’ve had to reassess their estimates dramatically and we find out that, even when they didn’t reach their entire quota, they still over-fished the stock.” 

Pacific Wild, along with Conservancy Hornby Island, the Association for Denman Island Marine Stewards and the Sea Shepherd Conservation Society, is also asking the federal government to create a Pacific herring recovery program for the Strait of Georgia. 

“If we allow them to rebuild, it would have a profound impact on the recovery efforts of wild salmon groundfish, bottom fish, whales, dolphins, so many species that are literally starving right now,” McAllister said.

Grant Scott, chair of Conservancy Hornby Island, said if the herring fishery isn’t closed it “could be a disaster for other species,” whose numbers are already greatly reduced from historic populations.

“This is the time to shut this thing down,” Scott told The Narwhal. “Let it recover.” 

“All the other creatures that live around the whole Gulf of Georgia, the seabirds, the salmon, the cod, the halibut, the humpback whales, everybody out there in the whole ecosystem relies one way or another on herring.” 

Wolves on the B.C. coast feed on herring roe. Photo: Pacific Wild

Female herring can lay up to 10,000 eggs, each the size of a grain of sand. Photo: Pacific Wild

According to the four conservation groups, the herring population in the Strait of Georgia has suffered from years of excessive quotas based on biomass calculated using a post-industrial fishing baseline. 

The 2019 quota was set based on a predicted return of 122,000 tonnes, but the groups say they were told by DFO that fewer than 86,000 tonnes returned.

“Fisheries ended up catching 25 per cent of the population — exceeding the 20 per cent harvest quota once again,” the groups said in a joint press release. 

According to McAllister, B.C. business magnate Jimmy Pattison owns the majority of the herring fishing fleet and the majority of processing facilities.

“So Pattison might lose a few million dollars but I don’t know how much sympathy there would really be for that considering how endangered these whale and salmon populations are.” 

The Pattison-owned Canadian Fishing Company did not return a call by press time.

A herring fishing boat in the Strait of Georgia. Photo: Pacific Wild

McAllister said the groups are meeting with DFO and “imploring them” to pursue a precautionary approach to herring management. They are hopeful DFO will initiate a closure for next year to allow stocks to rebuild, he said.

“There is money that could go to fishers for mitigation and transition out of this industry. It’s simply not sustainable to be harvesting so many tonnes of a foundation fish, of a critically important forage fish.” 

The federal government is expected to release its plan for the herring roe fishery in early December, following consultation with herring industry representatives and some First Nations. 

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.

Gord Johns is not a popular man at French Creek harbour.

On a windy March morning, fishermen are mobilizing to greet millions of herring that have migrated to the shallow water near Parksville, B.C., to spawn.

A group of men smoking in the parking lot do a double-take and glare at Johns as he walks to the dock, recognizing the squat politician in his gumboots and rain gear.

Johns has been an MP for Courtenay-Alberni since 2015, but this is the first year he has come out against the herring fishery in the Strait of Georgia — one of five herring populations on the coast of B.C., and the last relatively healthy stock left.

Despite a campaign to close this commercial fishery, Fisheries and Oceans Canada has allowed it to move forward: on the day Johns came to visit (March 12), about 15 big seiners were hovering offshore.

Gord Johns with herring spawn activity visible in the background. Photo: Chris Pollon

Herring boats in the Georgia Strait spring of 2018. Photo: Pacific Wild

By many accounts, Georgia Strait herring are coming back in “near historic” numbers this year, but it’s hardly something to celebrate.

Coast-wide, herring have become so depleted, they no longer can support commercial  fisheries at all. And historic runs in places like Haida Gwaii, the West Coast of Vancouver Island, and the Central coast have failed to rebound, despite a cessation of commercial fishing pressure.

Which leaves the fishery on the east coast of Vancouver Island as one of the last industrial herring fisheries on the entire North American Pacific coast.

“This is like our Atlantic cod story, everything that happened there is now happening here,” says Johns of Pacific herring.

“What I’m hearing from my constituents, and coastal people overwhelmingly, is that they oppose the opening of this fishery.”

Catching 20 per cent of the biomass

To come back in the afterlife as a herring is a curse, an old saying goes, because almost everything out there wants to eat you.

Herring are the dominant forage fish in British Columbia waters — meaning they are the critical prey base, serving as an intermediary between plankton at one end and all the seabirds, chinook salmon, humpback whales (and much more) on the other.

The “sac-roe” fishery that started on March 9 uses seine and gill nets to catch female herring for their eggs, which are sold as “kazunoko” in Japan. This is the highest value product of the fishery.

All the rest, including all the males, will be turned into slurry to feed pets and farmed salmon.

Herring fishing boats on the Georgia Strait. Photo: Pacific Wild

DFO has estimated that catching 20 per cent of the returning biomass of Georgia Strait herring is sustainable (see how they do it here), which means that for the sac-roe fishery alone, fishermen can catch up to about 20,000 tonnes of herring.

It sounds like a lot, but it’s a pittance compared to 1959, when over three times that amount was taken from the Strait of Georgia alone.

Herring harvest at Butedale, B.C., 1946. Photo: Campbell River Museum

Repeat spawners

Herring are invisible to humans for most of the year, except during a brief window in spring when they migrate to coastal shallows to spawn.

According to Caroline Fox, a coastal ecologist and conservation scientist who has investigated the contribution of herring nutrients to health of coastal ecosystems, this movement is not so much a migration as a “pulse” of biomass that nourishes coastal waters and land.

The milky white waters off the B.C. coast during the herring spawn in 2018. Photo: Pacific Wild

Fox grew up in Lantzville near Parksville, and never forgot the big annual spawns. The herring would be “very cryptic” in the days leading up to the spawn; they would appear suddenly, sometimes overnight.

Each female lays up to 10,000 adhesive eggs that stick onto kelp, blades of eelgrass, boulders and even gravel. The males then “milk the water” releasing milt to fertilize the eggs, creating great white and aquamarine clouds that can stretch for tens of km for days on end. When the eggs ripen and hatch, a secondary pulse of nutrients nourishes the coast.

These young herring don’t become spawning adults until they reach three or four years old (some live up to 10 years), and unlike salmon, they live to spawn repeatedly.  

Provided they aren’t eaten or caught first.

Female herring can lay up to 10,000 eggs, each the size of a grain of sand. Photo: Ian McAllister / Pacific Wild

Herring during the 2018 spawning season. Photo: Pacific Wild

A return to ‘historic abundance’

On March 12, Gordon Johns boarded a sea taxi to visit the fishing grounds. Less than a kilometre offshore, with Mount Arrowsmith looming to the west, big seiners are sounding the depths in search of the fish.

A single set by one of these big boats like The Western Investor or Snow Queen, can scoop up over 100 tonnes of herring in a single set.

Timing is critical for this roe fishery — the seiners are constantly tracking the fish, because they have to time their catch before the females deposit their eggs. The water is rough with big swells, forcing the herring to hold in deeper water.  

For now, it’s a waiting game.

The taxi arrives and disgorges Johns and a few journalists and NGO types onto The Habitat — the temporary home of author, photographer and Pacific Wild executive director Ian McAllister, who is coordinating the campaign amid the fishing boats.

Sitting in the cabin in a baseball cap and ripped jacket mended with duct tape, McAllister looks exhausted. He’s been on the fishing grounds for about a week, coordinating the campaign with the support of groups like SeaLegacy, which are taking the campaign to a global audience via social media.

McAllister says there should be no industrial herring fishery, and the goal should be to return herring to a state of “historical abundance” along the coast.

The question of what historical abundance is, in terms of hard numbers, is open to interpretation.

Ian McAllister. Photo: Christopher Pollon

Herring harvest in the Georgia Strait, spring of 2018. Photo: Pacific Wild

Part of the reason DFO stock assessment is so out of whack, McAllister insists, is that DFO bases its quota on a baseline snapshot of herring abundance from the early 1950s — the earliest point that standardized population estimates exist.  

But Pacific herring were already depleted by industrial fisheries by this time: he says using this compromised historical baseline to gauge sustainable levels of harvest is “deceitful.”

Instead, McAllister looks to First Nations oral history and archaeological studies to gauge historical abundance — the latter suggesting that herring were far more numerous and widespread between 2,500 and 10,700 years ago than they are today.

Fisheries and Oceans did not provide an interview in time for this story.

Herring harvested for roe and dumped at the University of British Columbia farm for fertilizer, 1966. Photo: Museum at Campbell River

Herring feed chinook

Johns opposes the fishery because herring feeds chinook salmon and the wider $1 billion tourism industry, including sports fishing and whale watching, that sustains his riding.

He is mystified that DFO talks about curtailing high-value B.C. chinook fisheries to protect killer whales, but allows a low-dollar value herring fishery that will mostly become animal feed.

“What happens if the food source for chinook salmon collapses?”

As he does throughout the day, MP Johns steers the conversation back to working fishermen, a constituency he is painfully conscious of alienating.

Regular working fishermen are the ones really feeling the squeeze here, he says.

Herring fishing boats out on the Georgia Strait in March 2019. Photo: Pacific Wild

Most of the herring quota is owned by absentee “arm-chair fishermen” who then hire local crews to catch the fish. For the latter it’s an important “stop-gap” fishery — a spring-opening at a time when there is nothing else happening commercially.  

“People keep asking us ‘why aren’t you guys going after Pattison instead?’ “

The reference is to Jimmy Pattison, the billionaire who owns the Canadian Fishing Company (Canfisco), which in 2016 reported owning about a third of seine and more than 10 per cent of gillnet licenses for herring roe, and 30 per cent of the facilities that process the catch.

The Narwhal asked Phil Young, Canfisco’s vice president of fisheries and corporate affairs, what he thought about calls to close the fishery.

“There are people saying we shouldn’t fish salmon, and shouldn’t fish anything. Is it on [our] radar? Absolutely. But we’ve lived by the science for 30-plus years in this fishery. If an area of the coast has not had good recruitment [meaning the fish survive to a certain size or reproductive stage], we don’t fish. We haven’t argued with DFO on that.”

Young says Georgia Strait herring are at near record levels this year.

“You just have to look at the number of seals, sea lions, and whales coming back into that area [to see] it’s healthy in there, it says there’s lots of herring, as they feed a lot of those.”

Herring sperm or ‘milt’ whitens the water during the 2018 spawning season. Photo: Pacific Wild

Coastal wolves, often referred to as seawolves, feed on herring roe. Photo: Pacific Wild

A black bear feasts on herring roe. Photo: Pacific Wild

The angry crew of the Golden Chalice

Hours later the water is still too rough for fishing, so the taxi departs back to the marina.

By now many of the fishermen waiting in docked boats know the taxi (and Johns) by sight, and as the boat lands, there are loud catcalls coming from a large fishing boat called The Golden Chalice.

The words are not audible, but the tone is not friendly.

“Emotions run high on both sides, between the environmental [sector] and the fishermen,” said Chris Wick, who is coordinating fishing activity on the herring grounds for North Delta Seafoods, a family business that has been involved with B.C. herring fishing for over 80 years.

“This should be about science.”

For Johns, our arrival to the dock is just the latest unpleasant moment for a man who has lived his whole life on Vancouver Island. It’s also become personal.

“My cousin is out there fishing right now,” he says. “He’s really pissed off at me.”

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.