PORTLAND, Ore. -The “thickest bellies and reddest meat, hands down.” That’s
what five Northwest fish sellers said about Columbia River spring chinook.
And it was a blind taste test that included Alaska’s prized Copper River
salmon.

If that’s the case, then why do consumers practically line up to buy Copper
River Salmon for $20 to $30 a pound in the groceries while Columbia River
tribal fishers only get from under a dollar to $4 a pound on river bank
sales?

Supply. Demand. Marketing. And ice – flaked ice. Even as these variables
figure in to a long history of disenfranchisement, they also point to a new
era, a tribal renaissance on the Columbia.

The ice, of course, is critical. And not hard-edged cubed ice that bruises
the fish. Buyers want the fishers to use nice flaked ice in which the catch
can hold without losing quality.

“Alaska trolls provide on-boat ice,” said Columbia River Inter-Tribal Fish
Commission’s (CRITFC) director of operation and finance, and member of the
Nez Perce tribe, Jon Matthews. “And we’re looking at what other fisheries
do and seeing where we can adapt. The idea is that from the time fishers
check their net or scaffold, that they handle the fish with care. Ice as
soon as possible. Don’t grab by the tails. Bleed the fish. Treat their
catches so that consumers feel safe. So that consumers can see we fish with
care.”

But it’s supply that’s really beginning to turn heads toward tribally
caught Columbia River salmon. Even before the dams went up on the Columbia
between the 1930s and 1970s, Indian fishers were elbowed out of their “in
common … usual and accustomed places.” And while they were brushing the
tribes aside, Anglo fishers practically strained the salmon from the river
with their fishwheels during the early 1900s in the heyday of the canned
salmon industry. To add insult to injury, most of the hatcheries built in
the Columbia Basin to compensate for losses to the fishery from the dams
were constructed on the lower river where most of the non-tribal fisheries
are. Finally, the last stronghold, Celilo Falls, was flooded by The Dalles
Dam in 1957. As the once great fishing and trading center slipped beneath
the water, so too did the hopes of Indian fishers on the Columbia.

But, the tribes never gave up on a lifeway that supported them since time
immemorial.

And in the 1970s when mainstream American society felt flush enough from
the post-World War II era to share, courts in the Northwest finally upheld
tribal access to fisheries. Since the revolutionary decisions, Columbia
River tribes have been coming back into their own. They have developed
professional fishery management capabilities and worked to get their fair
share of harvests, to influence hydropower management, to supplement runs
throughout the river’s tributaries with hatchery stocks and to restore
degraded fish habitat.

The upshot of past three decades is that tribal harvests have increased.
“Increases in spring chinook run sizes in the past four years have allowed
the re-establishment of commercial fishing opportunities for the tribes,”
CRITFC harvest management biologist, Stuart Ellis explained. “Prior to that
time the runs were so low that only ceremonial and subsistence harvests
were permitted.” All the court battles and studies and analyses are
beginning to point to a pay off. Beginning to point to a scenario in which
Indian fishers will no longer be reduced to poverty, but perhaps, instead
enjoy the vibrant quality of life once theirs as fishers on the Columbia.

“I think we’re moving in the right direction and am really excited about
it,” CRITFC business specialist and member of the Warm Springs tribe,
Kahseuss Jackson said. Jackson’s great grandfather, Charlie Jackson, fished
for salmon on the Columbia. “It’s kind of ironic that I’m in a position to
work with tribal fishers and be involved in this whole salmon marketing
thing,” Jackson added. “Since my great grandfather did that.”

So how will the Columbia tribes start improving the way they care for their
catch and developing marketing opportunities for the salmon? Certainly not
with the $12 million that the Alaska Seafood Marketing Institute uses, $2.6
million of which is appropriated by the U.S. Department of Agriculture
(USDA). Instead, CRITFC has a $39,000 grant from the USDA, money that
Matthews said the organization is using to “evaluate the feasibility of a
commercial processing center and develop marketing plans.”

CRITFC also envisions subsidized ice machines at central locations within
the tribal fishery. “If all goes well, we should have an ice machine in
place by spring near the The Dalles where all the fishers can access it,”
Matthews added. “And once the commercial processing center is built there
will be ice there too.

“One of the problems we’ve had is that we’ve been at the bottom of the
market chain and sold our fish to wholesalers. We’re trying to get more
involved in adding value to our fish so that we can get a larger share of
the dollars.”

Matthews refers to heading, gutting and icing the fish for buyers that go
out to the Columbia from Portland, Astoria and Seattle. He also noted that
the tribes are partnering with Ecotrust and Oregon State Food Innovation to
market their own specialty products including smoked salmon.

“We are definitely looking at high-end markets in Portland like New Seasons
and Zuppans and Wild Oats,” said Jackson. “It’s a matter of the fishers
developing the capacity to approach and offer quality product on a
consistent basis. Once they can do that, they should be able to take
advantage of this market, and it’s a great one.”

Indeed, high-end markets in Portland and around the Northwest are precisely
those where Copper River salmon is sought by consumers. But once the
educated, buy-local crowd finds out that the fish right outside their own
door is actually superior to the Alaskan variety, and that they’ve fallen
prey to a well-funded advertising campaign, purchasers are bound to pick up
the fish closer to home.

And that’s a point Matthews underscores. There’s a story behind the
Columbia River salmon. It’s a cultural story about the tribes and their
will to endure. Similarly, it’s a story about the fish and their fight
against formidable odds. It’s a story about a renaissance. About completing
a cycle and coming home to where you’ve always been.