Salmon Find a Surprising Ally in the Rugged Far East of Russia



Dmitry Beliakov for The New York Times
Estimates of the salmon fisheries’ annual value reach $600 million,  
and the fish are a crucial source of employment for Russia and other  
nations.

By C. J. CHIVERS
Published: October 15, 2006
UTKHOLOK RIVER BIOLOGICAL STATION, Russia — The wild salmon still  
rush the dark Utkholok and other rivers here in Kamchatka, one of the  
last salmon strongholds on earth. They surge in spring and come in  
pulses for months, often side by side in run after run.






Dmitry Beliakov for The New York Times
The Wild Salmon Center works in Kamchatka, whose wild state is a  
nearly mythical destination for outdoor tourism, to conserve salmon.


Dmitry Beliakov for The New York Times
Dr. Jack A. Stanford says the Kol River has as many as five million  
returning salmon each year.
All six native species of Pacific salmon remain abundant on this  
eastern Russian peninsula, scientists say, appearing by the tens of  
millions to spawn in its free-running watersheds. Even in October’s  
chill they come: coho and a trickle of sockeye, mixed with sea-run  
trout and char.

Now, in a nation with a dreary environmental record that is engaged  
in a rush to extract its resources, the peninsula’s governments are  
at work on proposals that would designate seven sprawling tracts of  
wilderness as salmon-protected areas, a network of refuges for highly  
valuable fish that would be the first of its kind.

Encompassing nine entire rivers and more than six million acres, the  
protected watersheds would exceed the scale of many renowned  
preserved areas in the United States. Together they would be more  
than four times the size of the Everglades, nearly triple that of  
Yellowstone National Park and slightly larger than the Adirondack  
Park, which is often referred to as the largest protected area in the  
lower United States.

These areas would be protected from most development, the government  
of Kamchatka says. Their purpose would be to produce wild salmon —  
for food, profit, recreation and scientific study, and as a genetic  
reserve of one of the world’s most commercially and culturally  
important fish.

If approved, the plans would push Russia toward the center of  
international efforts to prevent the remaining wild Pacific salmon  
stocks from suffering the declines and population crashes that have  
beset sturgeon, bluefin tuna and the Atlantic Ocean’s salmon,  
halibut and cod.

“Having weighed everything from the perspective of the economy, I  
have convinced myself that we have to have a different future, and  
that salmon must be allowed to return to spawn,” said Aleksandr B.  
Chistyakov, Kamchatka’s first deputy governor, in an interview in  
Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky, the region’s capital.

Mr. Chistyakov said Kamchatka was selecting protection zones not to  
create wildlife reserves but because fish runs were the best  
foundation for the peninsula’s economy. Oil, gas and mining sectors  
will be developed, he said, but will provide a comparably brief  
revenue stream. Sustainable fishing, he said, can last generations.

The government’s position, set forth in documents in August, has  
surprised even the scientists and conservationists who have lobbied  
to protect habitat from the development pressures of post-Soviet  
Russia. They have rallied behind it.

“This initiative is magnificent,” said Dr. Dmitrij S. Pavlov,  
director of the A. N. Severtzov Institute of Ecology and Evolution at  
the Russian Academy of Sciences, in an interview here. “It is  
important not only for people who live today, for contemporary  
people, but for future generations.”

Andrei Klimenko, who directs programs on Kamchatka for the Wild  
Salmon Center, an Oregon-based organization working internationally  
to conserve salmon runs, said the proposal could become a milestone  
in the management of a beleaguered resource. “It will be a  
precedent,” he said. “There is nothing else like this anywhere  
else.”

Each year, Russian and American scientists say, a sixth to a quarter  
of the North Pacific’s salmon originate in Kamchatka, a peninsula  
about the size of California.

Its endurance as an engine of sea life is attributed to geography and  
politics. Until 15 years ago it was a closed Soviet military zone,  
untouched and almost without roads. Today, it remains a remote region  
of volcanoes and glaciers, ringed by forested slopes and tundra laced  
with aquatic habitats where salmon spawn and their young grow.

Since Soviet authority evaporated, however, Kamchatka has faced  
intensifying pressures.

Prospecting has begun, mines have been dug, roads have been cut and  
poaching — from subsistence harvests to industrial-scale egg- 
stripping of salmon for caviar — is nearly unchecked. There are  
plans to develop oil and gas wells offshore.

Twice in the last two months the authorities have seized shipments of  
red Kamchatka caviar — weighing 20 tons and 10 tons — from  
airplanes landing at a Moscow airport.

A few of the peninsula’s salmon rivers are already depleted; others  
are at risk. “We face a choice,” said Olga A. Chernyagina,  
president of the Kamchatka League of Independent Experts, a Russian  
conservation group. “Will there be salmon, or not?”

Ms. Chernyagina said much could be lost, economically and socially.  
Estimates of the salmon fisheries’ annual value range to $600  
million, and Kamchatka’s sea-run fish and their bright-red eggs are  
an important source of protein and employment for Russia and other  
nations.

The peninsula is also a nearly mythical destination for outdoor  
tourism, a northern Amazon for volcano touring, heli-skiing, hiking,  
fishing, bird-watching and hunting.

Mr. Chistyakov said that Kamchatka’s wild state was its best asset,  
and that the rivers slated for protection were among its richest in  
fish yield and diversity. Dr. Jack A. Stanford, an ecology professor  
at the University of Montana and an adviser to the Wild Salmon  
Center, who, with Moscow State University, has helped direct research  
at biological stations on Kamchatka, agreed.

One river, the Kol, he said, has as many as five million returning  
salmon each year. “It has fish coming in from ice to ice,” he  
said. “It’s an amazing place.”

A recent tour of two rivers selected for protection, and helicopter  
flights over five others, showed a verdant wilderness.

Rivers without dams fall from mountains and meander through tundra,  
creating networks of lakes and side-channels, dense plant communities  
and flood plains fertilized by decaying fish. Brown bears abound.  
Rare birds, including huge Steller’s sea eagles, are a daily sight.  
At the Kol’s mouth, where river meets surf, dozens of seals ambush  
passing fish.

But in places, the banks are trampled by poachers and their camps.  
Treads from their all-terrain vehicles have cut scars in the tundra.

The efforts to create salmon refuges formally began in 2001 when  
Kamchatka’s administration, which governs the southern part the  
peninsula, signed a memorandum of understanding with the Wild Fishes  
and Biodiversity Foundation, a local conservation group, proposing  
the contiguous Kol and Kekhta basins as a protected zone.

Later, the Koryak Autonomous Okrug, which governs the peninsula in  
the north, accepted a proposal to protect the contiguous Utkholok and  
Kvachina basins. After review and environmental assessment, Kamchatka  
designated the Kol and Kekhta in April — 544,000 acres in all.

Conservationists call the decision fresh thinking in a field in which  
huge sums have been spent on rivers, like the Columbia in the United  
States, trying to recover runs. The investments have had limited  
results.

“What makes this special is that these rivers are being protected  
while they are still amazing fish producers,” Mr. Klimenko said.  
“To preserve something that is not destroyed is much less expensive  
than restoring an ecosystem that is already broken.”

The plans accelerated in August, when Kamchatka’s administration  
wrote to the foundation unsolicited and proposed designating five  
more rivers. It asked the foundation to prepare surveys and assessments.

The new proposal includes the Oblukovina, Krutogorova, Kolpakova,  
Opala and Zhupanova rivers. Under the plans, these watersheds would  
be protected from habitat disruption, but traditional uses would  
continue, including regulated commercial and sport fishing, trapping  
and hunting. Each river would have a biological station to study the  
ecology of the river and the fish.

Vyacheslav Zvyagintsev, the foundation’s director, said his staff  
was rushing to complete the documents. “We have a fantastically  
difficult task,” he said. “But I always say: if not us, then who?”

Mr. Chistyakov said Kamchatka planned to designate all the rivers  
except the Zhupanova by July 2007, when the Kamchatka and Koryak  
governments will merge, as part of the Kremlin’s redistricting of  
Russia. The Zhupanova has more users and its designation needs more  
time, he said. (The Utkholok and Kvachina remain under review.)

Even if the rivers are protected, some conservation advocates warn,  
the fish runs could remain at risk. Mr. Chistyakov noted that many  
Russians might not recognize protected zones. “But I think this will  
change in time, and sooner rather than later,” he said.

The United Nations Development Program, which has a Kamchatka salmon  
conservation program, said poaching must also be reduced. It is  
drafting an antipoaching strategy it plans to release next year.  
Natalya Olofinskaya, a United Nations program officer, said the  
protected areas could help by putting scientists on the river who  
could deter and report poachers. “By expanding this presence we  
could do a lot,” she said.

Russia is often criticized for behavior that includes crackdowns on  
democracy and the use of trade and energy levers against its  
neighbors. Its laws often prove malleable, subject to the whims of  
politicians or those in their favor. But in Kamchatka, advocates for  
salmon say the proposed protected zones are an example in which  
Russia is ahead of the United States, where many salmon runs and  
habitats were lost long ago.

“Russia is getting it right,” Dr. Stanford said, on the bank of  
the Utkholok, a river of salmon bones and big, silver-sided fish.  
“And we got it wrong.”