I shot the following videos at Lake Azabache and in Bistrinsky Nature Park in central Kamchatka during a mid-July trip with my colleague Igor Goldfarb.
Here you can see a spawning stream filled with sockeye salmon as they complete the final leg of their journey to the spawning grounds. When I took this video, these fish had already traveled from the ocean, up two rivers, across a lake, and up several miles of this stream. The white fish have already spawned, and are beginning to die. The media portrays post-spawn salmon mortality as a romantic sacrifice, but the truth is far more gruesome: after completing their “duty,” the salmon literally begin to fall apart. The upshot is that the nutrients the salmon bring to Kamchatka’s rivers feed entire villages, an enormous population of bears, and even fertilizes the surrounding forest. (more…)
Back in July, Igor and I went to visit a partner who conducts anti-poaching patrols in the Nalichego Nature Park, not far from Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky. We had to take a boat to his home within the park and, after a day-long tour, rode back to the truck to head home. As we turned a corner we saw the following image:
Right there, in the middle of a federal park on waters where any fishing equipment beyond a spinning rod is banned, we caught two men stringing a net across the mouth of a key spawning river.
I realized just how complacent poachers can be on Kamchatka, but it also revealed how a little support in the right places can significantly ameliorate the problem. Our partner in this park will likely catch several similarly complacent poachers this season. And if we can find more committed partners like him to conduct similar work, we can show poachers that their illegal work will not be tolerated by the locals who care the most about healthy salmon populations.
On 16 November 2009 a panel of Kamchatkan activists from the Lach Ethno-Ecological Information Center awarded first, second, and third prizes in a photography contest held during this summer’s salmon spawning season. The panel selected 34 finalists from 70 entries addressing the topic “The salmon in the life of the native peoples of Kamchatka” before whittling the group down to three winners. The top three submissions are displayed after the jump. All 34 finalists can be viewed here.
David Gordon and I spent the last few days at the Wild Salmon Center’s annual “Sustainable Salmon Fisheries in the Russian Far East” conference in Portland. Still in my first month on the job, I boarded the plane last Sunday both excited and anxious. I was thrilled at the opportunity to meet my American and Russian colleagues and learn from their experience, but I was also nervous to be a neophyte among so many respected and experienced conservationists.
Sakhalin-II caused severe environmental and social damage
Posted by Rachel James and Leah Zimmerman.
On the morning of September 7, 2008, Exxon and Sakhalin Energy prepared to face off in a much-anticipated soccer match to celebrate Oil Workers’ Day. Meanwhile, we (Rachel and Leah, two Pacific Environment staffers) packed a vehicle and headed north on the island with two staffers from Sakhalin Environment Watch, including Dmitry Lisitsyn, a superstar of the Russian Far East environmental movement. We traveled with Dmitry and Katya for three days along the Sakhalin-II pipeline route, a several hundred mile gash running the length of the otherwise wild island.
Dmitry’s questions are relentless. Whether addressing us, shopkeepers on the side of the road, or construction workers on the pipeline route, Dmitry is able to disarm and charm, while extracting critical information with measured precision. For us, time with Dmitry is a lesson in the art of community organizing as well as a lesson about Sakhalin-II itself.
Now that construction of Sakhalin-II is nearing completion, Sakhalin Environment Watch predicts its next great battle will be poaching. We saw first-hand this week how Sakhalin’s rivers, like many on Kamchatka, are being raped by poachers who operate without fear of punishment from disempowered or corrupt government agencies. Imagine thousands of salmon returning to spawn in the river where they were born after years at sea. Now imagine a net stretched across the entire mouth of the river, preventing only a handful of fierce jumpers from among the thousands to return upstream to spawn. After a few years of this, we don’t understand why people are surprised that there are no fish left in the rivers. And so, Dmitry and SEW plot their next move …
In recent weeks, we have lost two shining stars of Russia’s conservation movement. On Thursday, Robert Savelievich Moiseev passed away, one day after his 70th birthday. Robert Savelievich was the director of the Kamchatka Branch of the Pacific Institute of Geography, part of the Russian Academy of Sciences.
Robert Savelievich’s vision of sustainable development for Kamchatka and the North Pacific was truly extraordinary. Meeting with Robert Savelievich was always a pleasure that would result in expanding my worldview. He had a deep and complex understanding of sustainable development, based on his background as an economist and a patriot of Kamchatka and the North Pacific. He immediately understood the value of international connections; his vision was truly North-Pacific wide, as he understood the ties between Kamchatka and Alaska. He was one of the primary drivers behind the ideas for the International Bering Sea Forum, which brought together community members from both sides of the Bering Sea.
Robert Savelievich believed that Kamchatka could prosper only if it could sustainably manage its renewable resources, particularly its fisheries. He worked with us to demonstrate the value of Kamchatka’s salmon economy. He thought that Kamchatka’s economic priorities – which now appear to favor oil over fisheries – were terribly misplaced. His vision, though, was always frustrated by government officials who failed to have the long-term vision that Robert Savelievich championed. It’s particularly tragic that proposals to drill for oil off of western Kamchatka are moving forward at the same time that Robert Savelievich has passed away.
Most of all, though, I will remember Robert Savelievich as a mentor with an incredibly keen wit, golden tongue, and sharp mind. I remember once attending a public hearing on mining issues in Kamchatka, at which Robert Savelievich spoke. He spoke directly after a representative from the mining company. Robert Savelievich had the amazing ability – well-developed through the Russian scientific dialectic – to “dress down” whoever had spoken immediately prior to him. With an amazing economy of words, he showed the gaping flaws in the arguments of the mining company and went on to offer a vision for Kamchatka far beyond what anyone could imagine. I remember thinking to myself that I never wanted to speak directly after Robert Savelievich!
Robert Savelievich’s vision and leadership will be sorely missed, but I am hopeful that his vision for Kamchatka and the North Pacific will live on through his writings, his colleagues, and his family – and through those of us who will continue to promote a vision of sustainable development for the North Pacific.
Another shining star of the Russian conservation movement who passed away in late November is Boris Konstantinovich Shibnev, at the amazing age of 89. Boris Konstantinovich led an incredible life, having been born just a year after the Russian Revolution. He had read the works of Arseniev (the Russian analogue of John Muir) who wrote about his travels through the amazing nature of the Russian Far East (for those interested in his work, I recommend the Akira Kurosawa film “Dersu Uzala”). After being demobilized from the Russian Navy in 1939, Boris Konstantinovich moved to the Bikin River watershed in northern Primorsky Region.
Boris Konstantinovich was a fierce defender of the Bikin, a roadless area of 3 million acres with an amazing collection of subtropical biodiversity that is rare to find in such a northern area. He led scientific expeditions, was a teacher who gained great respect among the indigenous Udege people, and led early non-governmental efforts. I met Boris Konstantinovich in 1992 during my first visit to the Russian Far East. He had created a natural history museum in his home in the village of Verkhny Pereval. His passion and commitment to the Bikin watershed was contagious. At the time, the Bikin was under threat from Hyundai Corporation, which wanted to log the upper headwaters. We helped launch an international campaign that helped protect these forests from loggers.
These two stars of the Russian conservation movement will be warmly remembered – and our partners will be working to continue their traditions by protecting Russia’s most important wilderness areas and by promoting a sustainable vision for the region.
Sakhalin’s economy depends on fishing. Take Aniva District, for example: one fish inspector told me that 70-80% of the local economy is tied to fishing. And most of that is for salmon.
So it’s no surprise that one of the major concerns for people on Sakhalin about oil and gas development is its impacts to salmon. Shell has been roundly criticized by environmentalists and even the Russian government for the impacts to salmon spawning streams from its pipeline construction.
Under Russian law, companies have to pay for damages to natural resources. So Shell provided $11 million to the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency as compensation for its damage to salmon. Regardless of the fact that this amount is too low, I was most amazed about how the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency then decided to use this money. The Fisheries Agency used the compensation to reconstruct an enormous fish hatchery on the Taranai River. The reconstruction included building a barrier that blocks fish from going upriver so that all the salmon can be taken at the hatchery. Essentially, this will destroy the fisheries in the upper part of the watershed.
Shell and the Sakhalin Fisheries Agency should know better. It’s much smarter to spend money to protect healthy wild salmon habitat than to build hatcheries that just lead to more threats to wild salmon. Instead, they’ve just doubled the damage to salmon from Sakhalin-II and oil and gas development. In the indigenous Ainu language, Taranai River means “Fish River.” Too bad this fish river is being killed.