A battle of opposing views on fish farms threatens to boil over as the Coalition of First Nations for Finfish Stewardship (FNFFS) takes aim at a group of wild salmon advocates representing over 120 First Nations campaigning to remove fish farms from the ocean.
In the midst of this political skirmish, a disastrous fuel spill at an ocean-based fish farm is shining a spotlight on the risks posed by the industry.
Tensions erupted last fall as fish farm advocates and wild salmon protectors traded barbs at separate press conferences held on November 28, 2024 in Ottawa and December 4, 2024 in Vancouver.
In Ottawa, the BC Salmon Farmers Association and FNFFS joined forces to denounce the proposed 2029 phasing out of ocean-based open-net fish farms, citing fears of economic loss and condemning “activists” pushing for the ban.
Isaiah Robinson, FNFFS representative and Chief Councillor of Kitasoo Xai’Xais First Nation, told the media, “People [who] are anti-salmon farming do not run salmon farming in our territories and are actively impeding on the sovereignty of dozens of First Nations across the BC Coast.”
Indigenous backbone
In Vancouver, the First Nations Wild Salmon Alliance came together with the Gig̱a̱me’ (hereditary chiefs) to refute the FNFFS’ rhetoric. “We have representation from Musgamakw-Dzawada’enux̱w, Kwiḵwa̱sut̕inux̱w Ha̱x̱wa’mis, Gwawa̱’enux̱w, ‘Namgis, Mamalilikulla, Wuikinuxv, Tlowitsis, Liǧʷiłdaxʷ. We are here to squash some of the reports that we have been hearing – recent statements portraying our people as radicals,” said Gig̱a̱me’ K’odi Nelson, opening the press conference. “You can see our hearts and spirits come from a pure place that has been bestowed on us by our ancestors, to look after our salmon.”
Historically, many of the chiefs’ parents and grandparents fought against colonial control and assimilation tactics stemming from the implementation of destructive legislation such as the Fisheries Act and Indian Act. These Acts serve settler interests and industry while starving communities by restricting traditional harvesting and trading.
“The work we pursue is to protect wild salmon, not just for our people, but for all Canadians”
Holding the t̕łaḵwa (coppers) inherited from their forefathers, the Gig̱a̱me’ evoked grim parallels to their ancestors who stood in unity for Indigenous title and rights. The tłaḵwa symbolize the wealth and status of their family, upheld through generations of potlatch ceremonies and dictated through the unique name and history of each t̕łaḵwa. The government confiscated every copper it could find until the 1950s, but those that remain are powerful ceremonial and cultural treasures of the Kwakwaka’wakw people today.
Robert Chamberlain, chair of the First Nations Wild Salmon Alliance, explained, “There are coppers with our hereditary chiefs. They have fulfilled their obligations in the culture of our people to stand up and look after our territories for generations to come.”
Fish farm fuel spill
Days after the two competing press conferences, Norwegian fish farm giant Grieg Seafood reported nearly 8000 litres of diesel fuel spilled at its farm in Esperanza Inlet, Nuu-chah-nulth territory, near Zeballos, Vancouver Island. Grieg said the spill was caused by human error resulting from an unattended fuel line left flowing overnight. Clean-up efforts were hampered by large tidal swings, storms, and geographic challenges.
“I’m extremely upset that these fish farms are still even here despite our efforts to be rid of them. We are always force-fed these decisions to keep fish farms in our territory but we’re not going to tolerate that anymore,” says Tyee Ha’With (Chief) Jordan Michael of the Nuchatlaht First Nation. Grieg Seafood operates ten ocean-based open-net farms in the territories of the 14 Nuu-chah-nulth Nations.
“I fish out here regularly and I’m now afraid to eat anything,” says Nuchatlaht Guardian and Fisheries Technician Judae Smith. “I’m heartbroken thinking about our orca, Brave Little Hunter (kʷiisaḥiʔis), potentially swimming through this.”
Ehattesaht First Nation announced a clam-digging closure in response to the spill. “I am sure I will get angry next, but for right now, I am sad that all of this fuel is out there sloshing around our territory, washing up on our beaches,” says Tyee Ha’With John Simon. “Our people use these beaches continually and we have for thousands of years. It is where we get our food.”
Impacts of salmon farming
Human error is not the only threat posed by fish farms. Aquaculture causes nutrient pollution through waste from the fish such as feces, feed, and chemicals, leading to oxygen depletion and eutrophication (high nutrient density); which can cause dead zones and algae blooms.
Salmon pens are also a breeding ground for viruses such as piscine orthoreovirus and infectious hematopoietic virus, as well as sea lice. In 2018, farms introduced the Hydrolicer, following a study from DFO that indicated that farmed salmon were becoming resistant to the feed-based treatment. Hydrolicers have demonstrated a significant impact on wild aquatic life, with an estimated loss of over 800,000 wild fish in 2022.
Fish aren’t the only victims of mortality due to the farms. Klemtu, Tofino, and Nootka Sound farms are linked to the injuries and deaths of at least five humpback whales between 2013 and 2018. Between 1990 and 2022, nearly 8000 harbour seals, California sea lions, and Stellar sea lions either drowned or were gunned down by fish farmers. Mortality rates for birds and sharks are not reported; however, photo evidence indicates they, too, face widespread injury and death at fish farms.
Calls for reconciliation
At the Vancouver conference, Chamberlain announced a chance for “province-wide reconciliation, province-wide food security, an effort that will crystallize action on the Truth and Reconciliation Commission’s calls to action by restoring an opportunity for us to rebuild our culture, our traditions and the values and relationship we have with the lands.”
“To categorize [hereditary chiefs] as ‘activists’ is completely and utterly offensive.”
Chamberlain shared that the group is united in the fight against aquaculture, recognizing that the protection of wild salmon goes beyond the “nearly 130 First Nations” working to remove open-net pen fish farms from the coasts of BC. “The work we pursue is to protect wild salmon, not just for our people, but for all Canadians. We are not the only ones who have values, traditions, and culture relating to the catching and harvesting of salmon.”
Misleading information
Following the Vancouver conference, Tlowitsis Councillor Dallas Smith, a FNFFS spokesperson, took to social media to berate the Wild Salmon Alliance. “We can’t all feed our families off rich activists!” Smith wrote.
Chamberlain responded, “They [FNFFS] continue a narrative that First Nations that do not support the open-net pen fish farms are activists misled by millionaires. To categorize [hereditary chiefs] as ‘activists’ is completely and utterly offensive.”
The pro-fish farmers also raised concerns about loss of employment if BC fish farms were to shut down completely, rather than transitioning to land-based operations. Robinson declared, “Without salmon farming, our coastal communities will face generational trauma.”
Grieg Seafood won’t say how many Indigenous people it employs, if any, but Mowi West, a subsidiary of another Norwegian corporation, reports that out of an estimated 300 employees, “almost 25%” are Indigenous. Meanwhile, Cermaq, a billion-dollar multinational also based in Norway, reports 41 workers who identify as Indigenous out of “over 300 employees” on Vancouver Island.
Robinson invoked the spectres of suicide and addiction in First Nations communities as arguments for keeping fish farms in the ocean. But Chamberlain rejected his stance, saying, “We find it very distasteful to use that as a leverage point with the government to advance the open-net pen fish farms.”
New opportunities for the future
Chamberlain highlighted initiatives to facilitate the health and wellbeing of their communities, and to “reestablish connection to land, language, culture, and traditions.” One such initiative is the Nawalakw Healing Society, formed by the cumulative efforts of the four tribes of Kingcome Inlet. The society provides a culture and language camp and is developing a wellness centre, healing village, outdoor facilities, continued language and training certification, housing, and building retail space. Nawalakw provides hybrid long-term employment opportunities and seasonal employment for students and youth.
Chamberlain shared news of other upcoming economic opportunities for coastal First Nations such as land-based aquaculture and processing seaweed. “This allows a community that should participate in the growing, harvesting and processing [of seaweed] to realize the full value chain, the pharmaceuticals, the makeup, the collagen, the protein, and the iodine. This is what we have advanced to the task force as a solution for employment.”
Nelson added, “We’re going to be speaking about transferring tenures from fish farm operations to seaweed operations and find support to enable this emerging technology for the benefit of First Nation communities, primarily where we can see prosperity in the full value chain, realized in an industry that dominates the aquaculture industry globally. I have read that 50% of aquaculture across the globe is seaweed, and only 2% of that comes from North America. That, my friends, is opportunity.”
Watershed Sentinel reached out to FNFFS, BC Salmon Farmers Association and Mowi Canada, but did not receive a response.
Pa̱x̱a̱la, Desiree Mannila, is a proud member of the Da’naxda’xw/Awaetlala Nation and staff reporter for the Watershed Sentinel.