The broodstocking efforts by volunteers (aided by the Chehalis Basin Fisheries Task Force) were very successful this year. On the Satsop River they went extremely well. A large number of volunteers led by Dave Hamilton and Herman Ohlde were able to capture enough wild chinook adults to meet the egg takes required for hatchery needs and also needed by the WDF&W research project on East Fork Satsop Wild Chinook. Utilizing block and tackle and a heavy seine net the volunteers perfected a system that efficient and safe for both fish and volunteers.

Normally, the Long Live the Kings/Mayr Facility can capture enough wild chinook to meet its needs by utilizing dip nets at the facility barrier dam. This years low flow, however, required Terry Baltzell to move up and down the Wishkah to capture his adults. Utilizing 4-wheel drive vehicles, his team was able to begin capturing adults before the rains and freshets made such actions impossible.

On the Chehalis, chinook broodstocking was somewhat short of expectations, but still reasonable. Unlike on the Wishkah, the fish moved early with the early fall rains and the usual four week run time was reduced to two weeks. Timing is everything when broodstocking this major stream, and the weather and the fish were very difficult to pin down. The up side is that the captured broodstock were larger and stronger than normal with some real beauties mixed into the crowd.

At press time, the Satsop Springs facility had over 5000 adult coho return. Coho returns, both wild and hatchery, have been larger than expected with the size of the individual fish being much above normal.

Volunteers from throughout the basin have pitched in to help the Elma Game Club folks keep from being overwhelmed.

Correction:
"In October we erroneously attributed sponsorship of the Peters Native Coho Project to the Washington Trollers Assoc. We apologize to the Grays Harbor Poggie Club, who are the actual sponsor of this project."

Real Fish Facts - here are the answers to last month's quiz:

Name	Scientific Name	Other Names	Size
chinook salmon	Oncorhynchus tshawytcha	king, tyee, blackmouth (immature)	10-15 lbs, up to 135 lbs
cutthroat trout (coastal subspecies)	Oncorhynchus clarki clarki	sea-run cutthroat, harvest trout, "blueback"	1-4 lbs, up to 6 lbs
steelhead	Oncorhynchus mykiss	steelhead trout, sea-run rainbow trout	8-11 lbs, up to 40 lbs
coho salmon	Oncorhynchus kisutch	silver	6-12 lbs, up to 31 lbs
chum salmon	Oncorhynchus keta	dog salmon, calico	10-15 lbs, up to 33 lbs
sockeye salmon	Oncorhynchus nerka	red salmon, blueback (Columbia and Quinault Rivers), kokanee or 'silver trout' (landlocked form)	5-8 lbs, up to 15 lbs
pink salmon	Oncorhynchus gorbuscha	humpie, humpback salmon	3-5 lbs, up to 12 lbs

1997 is upon us. What does the future hold? Thanks to a book loaned us by Donna Bickar, Oakville, here is a look back.

In 1942, Charles Scribner's Sons published: WASHINGTON The Evergreen State Yesterday - Today Tomorrow, written by John W. Goddard. These excerpts are from that book.

"Timber Endangered. Washington is now concerned about its timber resources. It is now known that for years the "cut" of timber, plus the loss through fires, insects, disease, and windstorms, exceeded the new growth. Surveys have been made and various estimates have been offered relative to the difference between the "drain" and the new growth. It is sufficient to say that there is a difference and that responsible persons are giving careful study to the problems of conservation as a guarantee that timber will continue to be an important asset of the state of Washington.

Some lumber companies adopted a policy of "cut out, get out." Their chief concern was an immediate profit. They erected mills and started to cut the near-by timber. A town sprang up. The timber was removed. The company then moved on to other territory, leaving a "ghost" town behind. The process was then repeated elsewhere.

Water Is Dependent Upon Timber. The conservation of our forests, especially in the mountainous areas, is important for another reason. It insures the conservation of another of our major resources, our water supply.

When rain falls on a sloping surface, its tendency is to move rapidly down the hillside, unless something is there to impede its progress. Trees, grass, and bushes impede the progress of fallen rain or melting snow. When the flow of water is checked, the water soaks into the ground and seeps away slowly.

Streams originate in these hilly and mountainous areas, and it is important that they flow steadily throughout the year. The place where the stream is born is known as a watershed. It is highly important that some vegetable growth - trees, grass, or bushes - be maintained in these watersheds, as this is the one and only assurance of a steady, year-round water supply.

Canneries Erected. Fishermen and cannery operators were enthusiastic about the new industry. They were impressed with the tremendous numbers of salmon that entered the fresh-water streams each year. They were pleased with the steady increase in the annual catch and pack. They gave little, if any, thought as to whether there might be a depletion in the number of salmon. They had forgotten the history of the bison herds that one time roamed in huge numbers over the great plains. They likewise had forgotten the history of the American wild pigeon, whose flocks were so enormous that their flights darkened the sun but whose numbers were lessening to the point of extinction.

Conservation Needed. They finally realized that the increase in the catch each year was not due to an increase in the number of salmon but to an increase in the number of fishermen and the improvement of the fishing gear. Perpetuation of the salmon industry finally became a topic of discussion and study which led to the passing of laws that eliminated some of the fishing gear. Water wheels and purse-seines were legislated out of the Columbia River several years ago. Later, an initiative measure was passed in Washington eliminating fish traps and drag-seines."

Today is the time to build the future for you, your family and those who follow you.

That is the question. As an oyster and fishing family, and a downstream user of Chehalis river waters, this is the question that is posed every day. To survive we live or die on the quality of our fresh and marine waters. As with all fishers eventually we have to answer this question. Are we valuable or are we going to allow ourselves to be sacrificial lambs to unrestricted development that leads to degraded waters? What do we add to the mix that is called quality of life?

To answer my own question, yes, fishers enhance those qualities that we all view as important to a rich and rewarding life style. Is it worth fighting for? You bet it is and that's what we are doing. Day in and day out fishers are in the trenches doing the dirty work. At times we are considered irreverent, at times just plain pig headed but we think healthy water is a right that all people should enjoy. It is the foundation of our very existence. If on the way to helping ourselves we help the public maintain a safe and healthy environment then that's a bonus. Yes, we are all in this together.

Who's at fault? Well, we are all at fault but some more than others. Just by the simple fact that we are here occupying space and breathing we contribute to the pollution load. This type of degradation is easier to correct, as when people are aware, they will generally change their habits and we can manage this through education. Thoughtless development is another matter. Laws, there are plenty of laws to address development problems but administration of these laws, is where it breaks down. There are those among us that see unrestrained development and growth as the cure-all for everything that ails us. Sure, in the short run this may be true but in the long run we are spending our children's options. Clean water presents opportunities and that should be passed on as a right of heritage.

What to do? To make thoughtful consideration out of chaos we need to get the attention of our elected officials, administrators and citizens alike. We need empower those that stand to loose the most and that's us folks. When the streams are dead, when you can no longer eat the shellfish in the estuaries and the vacationers don't come to visit any longer, then we have only ourselves to blame. We had the chance and we muffed it.

Hope springs eternal! Yes, we can turn this around and this is what we can do together. Be politically active. When you support a candidate make them be honest in their promises and hold their feet to the fire. When they attempt to trade away your future, let them know about it. Question the status quo, elected officials and administrators don't have all the good ideas, they just think they do. Support your local Watershed Council and if you don't have one, form one. Watershed Councils may not have all the answers but they can point you in the right direction for help. Read as many local papers as you can get your hands on, what's happening is in there. Be reasonable, courteous and press on but don't compromise on clean ,healthy water. It is your past, present and future.
Brady Engvall
Member Chehalis River Council

Thanks to Bill Yakes' for this contribtuion:

Scatter Creek

Whole glaciers fell here:
the barren clatter and crack of falling
ice echoed in a land too cold for spruce.
Warming, when it finally came, started
subtle as lichen, swelled to the din
of outwashed rubble. Scraped, imbedded,
torn racket and dark -- years on years of rain
falling relentless as twenty Novembers;
impenetrable, rattling water,
freight of worn stones roaring.

Ten thousand years have tipped
forward, fallen into our loose valley
sleeve filled with the tumbled cobble
that drapes this thin-armed stream.
Stream that ducks into shadow and is gone:
bright snake gone to a cool blind hiding
on a warm day. Pockets, passages, mole
and shrew runs. Pupae of bees -- damp,
slick-skinned, and brown -- stuck fast
beneath two-handed prairie stones.

In the hills voles nibble and startled
deer spring straight up from brambles.
The land is less for predator than prey.
More eyes below than stars.
A tangled country with ample room to hide.

The great old fish are dead. Old photos show
hungry children wrestling blackmouth
from the creek. They drag them home.
Lame dogs peer from their eyes.
Final and brooding fish collapse from pilgrimages.
They are like huge trees (wind-thrown hemlock)
dragged out -- shredded, pressed, and burned
in darkrooms to the platinum of their own demise.

Now in shades of stain and tan
we stand still, invisibly shaken and see
horsetails driving up insolent and green
through the archives of short memory

Bill Yake lived in the Scatter Creek drainage from 1979 to 1996. Although he's moved 20 miles north into the Green Cove/Eld Inlet drainage, the wide valley and larger aquifer has embedded itself in his imagination and affections. Bill has poems published in Wilderness Magazine, The Seattle Review, the Padilla Bay Poets Anthology, and the Duckabush Journal. "Scatter Creek" was published in Bill's first book of poetry: Confluence (Radiolarian Press) which is available at Four Seasons Books in Olympia.

The news that water flows downhill, and that fish depend on water, won't come as a shock to anyone.

Yet these statements add up to an often-ignored fact about the habitat needs of salmon (and everything else that depends on the river). Salmon don't just live in water--they live in watersheds. From the crest of the surrounding hills to the estuary at the mouth, a river's watershed is the entire basin from which it gathers its waters. As water percolates through the soil to the stream, down the stream to the river, and eventually out to sea, its quality and quantity is affected by everything it touches. Salmon are affected by anything that happens is the watershed, even though it may seemingly take place far from the river.

Salmon are affected by the water's temperature and nutrient content, by the amount of sediment and oxygen it carries, by the rate of its flow, and by other factors. All the natural systems in the watershed--forests, meadows, wetlands, rock outcroppings--contribute to the composition of the water.

The watershed determines the amount and force of the water in the river, and the material carried down by its flow from higher elevations. These factors shape the river bottom, which is another important aspect of salmon habitat. Here, behind a large log, the force of the stream may have dug a deep pool, where young salmon shelter in the summer and returning adults rest on their way to the spawning grounds. There, quiet eddies may have dropped their loads of silt, creating mud which supports a marsh. In another place, the river has deposited beds of gravel, which salmon need for spawning. Some species prefer to lay their eggs in pea-sized gravel, while other can use rocks as large as cantaloupes. The particular types of habitat provided by the river depend on the larger influence of the watershed.

Salmon evolved to cope with a sequence of habitats found in natural watersheds. In a typical river system, tributary streams in the upper reaches are heavily shaded by forests, which drop large quantities of leaf litter and other organic material into the water. Fallen trees in the stream trap spawning gravel on the upstream side, and create plunge pools below where young fish shelter and feed. Many of the aquatic insects available as prey in these areas belong to a group know as "shredders", which devour large bits of plant material floating in the water.

In the middle reaches of the river, the tree canopy opens up and more sunlight falls on the water, prompting algae growth. Here the prey species likely belong to groups know as "scrapers," which harvest algae from the rocks, and "collectors," such as net-spinning caddies fly larvae, which strain finer bits of organic material from the water.

At its lower end, the river may wander in many channels across its floodplain, providing a wealth of fish habitats in its wetlands, sloughs and oxbows. In these marshes and estuaries, ocean-bound salmon gorge on clouds of small crustaceans such as copepods and amphipods.

All human activity in the watershed affects salmon habitat. Timber-cutting, for instance, may remove shade and large streamside logs that once fell periodically into the stream. Road construction and agriculture often cause erosion, which in turn fills the water with sediment that can clog spawning gravel. Culverts can block fish passage and alter water flow. Removing creek meanders or beaver dams and filling wetlands eliminates feeding areas and the slow-water areas so important for sheltering young coho and other salmon from the raging winter currents. Dams can slow the force of the river's flow preventing it from cleansing sediment from its bed and moving gravel downstream.

Because human beings live in watersheds, we are part of the salmon's habitat. In many areas, small landowners, timber companies, fishermen, environmentalists, farmers, tribal members, agency representatives, and others are working together to restore watersheds and improve salmon habitat. Often called watershed, these coalitions are finding ways to put aside differences and pool resources to help the salmon. These groups work together to assess the health of their watershed, identify areas where restoration efforts can best help the salmon, and seek out willing landowners to implement habitat restoration projects.

Projects undertaken by watershed groups have included stream surveys, tree planting (to provide shade along stream banks), road and bank stabilization (to prevent erosion), culvert repair (to facilitate fish passage--for both young and adult fish), placing logs in streams (to create shelter and deep pools), side-channel construction (to provide slow water areas for winter shelter), and cattle watering and fencing (to keep cows and sheep out of streams). Participants have included loggers, fishermen, agency personnel, civic groups, environmentalists, and youth groups ...entire communities, taking responsibility for their watersheds.

To learn more about watershed groups in your area, or for more information on how you can assist salmon recovery efforts in the Pacific Northwest, please write the Pacific States Marine Fisheries Commission, 45 SE 82nd Drive, Suite 100, Gladstone, OR 97027-2522.

Beginning in 1990, the Department of Ecology studied the Upper Chehalis River basin as part of the Chehalis Total Maximum Daily Load (TMDL) project. In 1994, the Department of Ecology issued three TMDL reports that describe the water quality in the Upper Chehalis and Black Rivers. In a series of articles, Ecology researcher Paul Pickett will explore the Chehalis River as discovered through the TMDL study. The Winter Season was covered in the December issue.

Spring has come to the Chehalis Basin. Leaves are uncurling on the trees along the river bank. Winter rains have soaked the ground, filling the streams and keeping them cool and high.

The days are getting longer. In between drizzly spells, the sun shines high and bright, warming the air, the soil, and the water's surface. As the leaves on the trees grow and the ground drains, the streams and rivers slowly drop. The dramatic changes we watch above the ground are matched by changes beneath the water's surface.

From its headwaters, the Chehalis tumbles through the eastern edge of the Willapa Hills, to be joined by the waters of Elk Creek. After the South Fork flows in, the river begins to change, flowing through more pools and slow stretches.

Once the Newaukum River joins it, it drops into the flat valley where the cities of Centralia and Chehalis sit. The ice-age glacier that covered Puget Sound filled this basin between the hills with the rock and silt, carried from its melting face by the ancient outwash river. The river as it enters this valley becomes slow, meandering, and wide - almost a long, thin lake rather than a river.

Through the spring months, this stretch of the Chehalis (which we'll call the Centralia Reach) is slowly transforming from a more typical river to something quite unusual. As flows drop and the speed of the water slows, the river becomes less turbulent. Oxygen in the air enters the river more slowly, and mixes into deeper waters poorly. The water's surface begins to warm, which also allows less oxygen to enter the water.

Like any organism, the river breathes. It needs oxygen for the life within it. Some creatures, like the young salmon, do not like it stuffy and will leave or die if the oxygen drops too low. Others, like the bacteria and other microorganisms, will use as much oxygen as they need as fast as it can be replenished from the air, even until virtually no oxygen can be found. Some of these organisms live in the sediments on the bottom, feeding off the rich muck deposited there. Others feed on the materials that flow into the river, including the treated wastewater from a city or factory, or the animal waste washed off a field by the rain.

As the days pass through May, the river in the Centralia Reach finds it harder and harder to replenish the oxygen in the water, and the oxygen levels drop lower and lower. Wastewater from Chehalis entering the river just below the Newaukum uses oxygen as it flows downstream, resulting in lower levels as it reaches the Mellen Street bridge in Centralia. By the end of May, oxygen levels in the Centralia Reach are too low for many of the most sensitive creatures.

With the inflow of the Skookumchuck River, the Chehalis is refreshed. The river drops out of the valley and resumes its journey down towards the sea. Cold water from the Skookumchuck and the vigorous churning of riffles and rapids restore the oxygen levels of the river. Scatter Creek and the Black River join the Chehalis as it flows past, and finally the River enters the wide valley of the lower river.

The Black River is a branch of the Chehalis system that deserves a tale of its own. Beginning in the broad wetlands south of Black Lake, it flows slowly down a flat valley that skirts the eastern edge of the Black Hills. As the rains of winter soak into the marshes and drain into the river, the water carries a dark color from the rich organic materials of the marsh. These materials also pull some of the oxygen out of the water, a natural process found in most wetlands.

After meandering through the marshes, two creeks add to the flow of the Black River as it passes the town of Littlerock. Waddell Creek brings clear, pure water from the Black Hills. Beaver Creek, on the other hand, carries to the Black River the telltale pollutants - bacteria, silt, and nutrients - that result when mud from eroded stream banks and manure from livestock are washed off the land by the rains. These problems were observed in the TMDL work of 1991 and 1992, but since that time, local citizens have been working hard to fence the creek and its tributaries and to better manage the livestock. With time and more hard work, Beaver Creek should run as clear and unpolluted as Waddell.

The Black River below Littlerock enters a long, slow stretch. Some have compared this part of the river to a Louisiana bayou or an English country stream. Like the Centralia Reach, as the flows drop in the spring, oxygen is less easily replenished. But flows in the Black are lower than the Chehalis. Even in spring, the deepest waters of the middle Black are cold and depleted of oxygen.

Even more than the Centralia Reach, the middle Black River behaves like a lake. The wide water surface, lack of shade trees, and slow currents allow microscopic floating plants called algae (or "phytoplankton") to flourish. In lakes, the kind of algae present changes from spring to fall, as temperatures, sunlight, and the amount of nutrients that fertilize the algae change.

Like a lake, the Black River has changing cycles of algae over the dry season. The long sunny days of late spring allow green algae to bloom. But as the days begin to shorten and conditions in the river change, the greens die back and other species take over. Small phytoplankton with beautiful, intricate silica shells called diatoms are often most common. At other times, the dominant algae are cryptophytes - tiny phytoplankton that propel themselves by whipping their little tails.

Given the right set of conditions, these phytoplankton could multiply until the Black River looked like pea soup. It's even possible that blue-green algae could appear - an algae that is sometimes toxic to dogs, cats, and humans. Fortunately, the Black River is still relatively low in one of the key nutrients that the phytoplankton require - phosphorus. If population growth in the Black River basin caused more phosphorus to enter the river from septic systems, stormwater, or wastewater, then the situation could deteriorate.

Meanwhile, on a spring day, the Black is dark and murky, but not green and turbid. As the river moves downstream from the lake-like middle stretch, it begins to meander and grow shallower. As it passes the railroad trestle near Rochester the river drops and enters an area of small riffles and pools thick with water plants. Like plants on land, these plants are just beginning to grow in the spring, only hinting at the lush growths that will crowd the river in the summer.

Winding through the valley between Rochester and Oakville, the Black River finally joins the Chehalis. As summer approaches, flows will continue to drop and temperatures rise. Soon the Chehalis and Black Rivers will face their most difficult season - the hot dog- days of August and the false summers of September and October. But during these long spring days, the cool, swift waters disguise the changes that are occurring within them.