‘We Are Known As the Salmon People’

How Indigenous people and their partners are working to recover wild salmon in New Brunswick, Canada

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‘We Are Known As the Salmon People’
Four people stand on a muddy riverbank around a folding table. Two of those people are measuring and tagging young salmon.
On the banks of the Nepisiguit River in New Brunswick, Canada, Atlantic Salmon Federation’s Kris Hunter, Pew’s Leah Baumwell, and two employees of Pabineau First Nation’s Natural Resources Division weigh, measure, and tag salmon that were captured in a newly installed wheel submerged in the river.
The Pew Charitable Trusts

The people of Pabineau First Nation (PFN) have lived along the banks of the Nepisiguit River since time immemorial—as they say—in what is now the province of New Brunswick, Canada. And this year, PFN launched a joint project with the New Brunswick-based nongovernmental organization Atlantic Salmon Federation (ASF) to improve research aimed at rebuilding the local wild salmon population, including tagging (and then releasing) young salmon that are leaving the river for the ocean for the first time. The Pew Charitable Trusts’ conservation Canada project partners with in-country organizations such as ASF, which assists Indigenous communities such as PFN to further shared conservation goals. Earlier this year, PFN and ASF invited Pew’s Leah Baumwell to join them in tagging and releasing salmon.

This interview with Robert Kryszko, special research and programs coordinator with Pabineau First Nation, and Kris Hunter, regional director of wild salmon watersheds with the Atlantic Salmon Federation, has been edited for length and clarity.

A map showing the location of New Brunswick within Canada, as well as the locations of the Nepisiguit River and Pabineau First Nation within that province.

What do salmon in the Nepisiguit River mean to Pabineau First Nation?

Kryszko: Pabineau First Nation is a small community—we have about 400 members, not all of whom live here—and we are known as the salmon people. It’s a fish we use for our powwows and moon ceremonies; our elders pray over the salmon before the feast. We also use salmon for other ceremonies on national holidays that recognize our history, such as Indigenous days and the National Day for Truth and Reconciliation, which honors children who never returned home and survivors of residential schools. We’ve always had the right to our natural resources, a right that was recognized federally in Canada in 1999 in what’s known as the Marshall Decision—which stated that the first allocation of this salmon fishery is for our food, social, and ceremonial usage.

What have you noticed about the salmon populations in the Nepisiguit River?

At the rocky edge of a river, a man is crouched down, opening an orange bucket.
Robert Kryszko, special research and programs coordinator with Pabineau First Nation, prepares to release tagged salmon back into the Nepisiguit River, upstream of the salmon smolt wheel.
The Pew Charitable Trusts

Kryszko: When we first noticed declines in the salmon population, such as when toxic runoff from nearby mines destroyed the population in 1969, Pabineau First Nation began to conserve, protect, and repopulate salmon in the river. So now we collect eggs from mature female salmon in the winter, fertilize them in the spring, and then release baby salmon into their home river. And over the last 40 years, we’ve helped the population recover in the Nepisiguit River. But we have new concerns now, like climate change. A few years ago, there were several feet of thick ice during winter in the Bathurst Lake, at the start of the Nepisiguit River, and we used to walk across it. Now, you’d need a canoe to cross it. We know that when the ice melts in the spring, it transports aquatic life to the river, which in turn becomes fish food. So less ice means less food for our salmon. The warmer water is also affecting our salmon—we’re starting to see more disease. We’re monitoring and working on a plan to mitigate and adapt to these issues.

How do Pabineau First Nation and the Atlantic Salmon Federation work together?

Hunter: The Atlantic Salmon Federation is focused on the conservation and preservation of wild salmon populations. A mantra from ASF is: “If we look back in 100 years, what will we say we wish we did? Let’s do that now.” A few years ago, we launched a watershed program with an ecosystem perspective and partnered with Indigenous communities like Pabineau First Nation to understand the warning signs we’re seeing and to build solutions. There are multiple ways of knowing and seeing, and we need to value all those ways. I’m a biologist, and Western science is my tendency, but Western science doesn’t answer everything.

A man in an orange hat and knee-high waders carries an orange bucket containing young salmon as he walks through shallow water along a riverbank.
ASF’s Hunter carries a bucket with smolt retrieved from the wheel to the banks of the Nepisiguit River.
The Pew Charitable Trusts

Kryszko: Pabineau First Nation looks ahead seven generations—something our ancestors have always done—to make sure they’ll have the same things we have today. ASF came and discussed with the chief, council, and me their watershed perspective to protect, conserve, and enhance salmon. After a few meetings with ASF, we talked with our members and the community. The council and chief had open arms, so we created a protocol with ASF and launched the joint program in January of 2024. By working with ASF, we now have more people and better capacity for a mitigation and adaptation plan for the river, to make sure salmon are there for future generations.

Can you describe the salmon smolt wheel project you’re doing together?

Kryszko: We had 43 years of data from our salmon stocking program, but in that time, we’ve never collected data about the smolt—basically, the teenager salmon that transition from the river to the ocean. ASF said they wanted to help us fill this data gap. A smolt wheel is essentially a large funnel that floats in the river and is rotated by the current. A portion of young salmon are captured and held safely in it as they migrate downstream to the ocean. Once they are collected, measured, and tagged, they are released upstream. The number recaptured in the wheel can be used to estimate the total number of smolt migrating to the ocean, which in turn helps scientists gauge the health of the river ecosystem. This stage is a big, stressful, and important change in the salmon life cycle. The smolt are only about 12 centimeters long when they leave, and when they return in two or more years, they’ve grown five times as long and can weigh up to seven pounds. If you catch and mark them as they leave, which the smolt wheel allows us to do, you can learn about what our watershed is producing. And when they return, we can learn not only how many make it back from the ocean, but which ones. Were they the bigger ones, the smaller ones, ones with certain genetic traits? We can use that knowledge to improve our recovery program.

Two people in a canoe paddle toward a floating device called a smolt wheel that captures a portion of migrating young salmon so that they can be tagged for scientific purposes. A forest fills up the background.
Pew’s Baumwell and ASF’s Hunter approach the newly installed salmon smolt wheel on the Nepisiguit River in New Brunswick, Canada. Smolt—young salmon—are captured by the wheel so they can be tagged before they continue making their way downstream to the ocean for the first time.
The Pew Charitable Trusts

Hunter: The first time you do something, it’s a steep learning curve; this is our learning year, and it’s been good and productive. We’ll soon be able to share a summary report of what we caught, and we’re aiming to collect five years of data. We see salmon as a lens to understand what is happening in the entire ecosystem.

What’s your hope for the future?

A woman swabs the underside of a young salmon, which is held steady by the hands of another person.
Pew’s Baumwell disinfects and closes a small incision after inserting a tag into the gut cavity of a smolt retrieved from the salmon smolt wheel.
The Pew Charitable Trusts

Hunter: I’m a realist and I know there’s a long, hard road ahead of us, but I have hope. Rebuilding the wild salmon population isn’t going to happen overnight, but we’re making progress. In September, PFN played a major role in hosting a once-a-year gathering to talk, share, and collaborate across the whole network of ASF’s Wild Salmon Watersheds program. And I’m inspired by the excitement we’re seeing at PFN and the broader community; I’m hearing both Indigenous and non-Indigenous partners in other places saying they like what we’re doing and want to do it too.

Kryszko: My hope is for the salmon’s survival; I’d like to see my kids’ kids’ kids have the same opportunity with salmon that I have. There’s a big team behind the goal of having the salmon coming out shining, like it was when we had thousands and thousands of healthy fish that could support our social and ceremonial uses.

A woman walks on large flat rocks on the edge of a river.
Pew’s Baumwell walks along the rocky edge of the swiftly flowing Nepisiguit River in New Brunswick, Canada.
The Pew Charitable Trusts