BY WILL SALAVERRY
How does the way salmon dig their redds (nests) into the riverbed affect the flow of water downstream toward the sea? How does this, in turn, affect the health of the forest, laced by the rushing water that the salmon have guided through the underbrush? How does that ancient engineering influence the growth pattern of spruces, pines, and Devil’s Club that color the river banks lush green? Beyond that, how do these processes connect to public health and cohesion of our communities? Finally, how can we recognize our part to play in this beautiful drama?
These aren’t just pastoral musings, they are important questions that I have been asking since moving up to Sheet’ka, Lingít Aaní (Sitka, Alaska) after graduation. This rural fishing community, nestled safely in Sitka Sound on the western coast of Baranof Island, is rich in cultural history, natural beauty, and contemporary challenges. The headwinds facing this community run the gamut from insufficient housing and health resources to increased inflationary economic pressures. Here, I have been shown that answering these short-term social challenges requires a larger and longer term reckoning with these questions of interconnectedness.
Those concerned with public health and climate easily recognize relationships between social and ecological decay. Often less acknowledged is the positive correlation that occurs when we decide to care for the natural world. The effects of this virtuous side of the spiral can range from clean air and water, leading to decreased instances of communicable disease, to regenerative farming resulting in more robust diets and immune systems. These are stories that are starting to be told more as communities around the world look through the lens of health at the urgent crisis we are all living through. It is, however, crucial to recognize that powerful examples like these only tell part of the story. It is not only the result that public health experts should focus on. In these cases where ecosystems and holistic ecological health are put first, it can be just as much about the journey as the destination. All the way from the first planning meeting in someone’s living room to the un-damming of a river, there are important public health and climate stories to be told.
In the case of Sitka, one such saga to pay attention to is the millennia-long relationship between native peoples and Pacific Herring. Since time immemorial, the indigenous peoples of what is now called the western coast of the United States, British Columbia, and Alaska’s Coast (as far north as the Bering Sea) have had important relationships with Herring. These nutrient rich forage fish returned yearly to bays and rivers along this vast stretch of coastline to spawn in the millions, ringing in the springtime for coastal populations. The Herring were harvested in cautious plenty, they’re meat, oil, and eggs were and still are an important source of protein, omega 3 fatty-acids, and iron. These qualities established herring as a dietary mainstay for Alaska Native groups in particular who depended on the nutritional boost after harsh winters2. In return for this bounty, native people watchfully steward and even augment the kelp forests that herring require for spawning by regulating community harvesting of seaweeds3.
This reciprocity was threatened to the point of extinction in the centuries following contact with Europeans and their descendants. As governance violently shifted away from tribes in the colonial and post-independence periods the recorded biodiversity of coastal ecosystems became increasingly degraded4. The Herring were very much a victim of this ecological loss and so too were the people that relied on their predictable return. While declining salmon runs grab the headlines in northwestern fisheries circles, the Herring are a vital part of the broader story of this region.
Today, herring still spawn along the western coasts of Alaska and British Columbia but in greatly reduced numbers and in the lower 48 states the situation is even worse. Sitka Sound is one of the last robust areas for Herring spawn in Southeast Alaska 1. While the unique geography of Sitka and the surrounding waters contribute to this last safe haven, much of the resiliency is due, as it has been for many generations, to the tireless work of native people.
Along with their allies, Lingít people hailing from across Southeast Alaska formed the Herring Protectors, a group whose mission is to safeguard this final intact habitat and promote a sustainable, yearly harvest of the forage fish and their prized eggs. For the past nine years, this grassroots collective has organized traditional ceremonies, community harvesting, and political action in order to protect new generations of the environmentally vital ocean dwellers.
The Kaxhatjaashaa, which translates to Herring ladies in English, are indigenous culture and knowledge bearers who serve as the engine behind this unceasing effort to protect the Sitka sound as a refuge for the Yaaw (Pacific Herring). Every spring, as the weather welcomes the glistening silver schools of fish back from deep waters, the work kicks into high gear. This year is no exception and, as I write this, the group’s efforts are actively underway.
The Herring Protectors are important political activists, making sure the voices of native peoples are heard. On February 4th, 2025, the Alaska Board of Fisheries had a meeting in Ketchikan, which is a short plane ride from Sitka, on policy regarding the harvest of fin fish and shellfish in the entire Southeast region. While much debate was focused on the decline of salmon, the most famous and commercially valuable fish in Alaska, the Herring Protectors made sure that their urgent message was not lost.
Over the course of the public comment period, multiple members of the organization as well as other Lingít people came forward to advocate on behalf of the group’s mission. “My family has been in Southeast Alaska since the last Ice Age and have been harvesting Herring for that long,” Kh’asheechtlaa, Louise Brady reminded the panel. Kh’asheechtlaa has been an instrumental leader throughout the movement’s history and spoke up at the meeting for the long history of reciprocity her people have with the Herring. “Oral history is thought of as less than written history but we still have strict rules around Herring.” They pointed to the modern scarcity of the fish as well as the historical and cultural meanings behind the Herring harvest. Alex Johnson-Rice, a fisherman and seasoned harvester also spoke. He emphasized the intergenerational connection bred out of this sacred relationship. “The eggs are so important that in our language we have four different names for them… I bring this to you because this is our way of life we’re talking about, haa kusteeyi (“our culture” in Lingít). It is taught to me by my uncles, it is my responsibility to carry it on and teach my nephew.” Paulette Moreno, another powerful advocate, cautioned the Fisheries Board to heed the warnings of her people. She reminded them that, despite favorable yearly predictions, the egg harvests have continued to suffer. “We hope that what we say, our words, will not land on the ground. The people of our nation should be heeded to in the strongest possible way.”
Outside of their vital political advocacy, the Herring Protectors have brought their cultural knowledge and passion to bear in the community. Each Sunday, the group invites Sitkans to join them at the Alaska Native Brotherhood Hall for gift-making nights. Participants come to lend hands and learn traditional crafting from elders. These nights don’t just spread awareness of the constant fight to protect the Yaaw, they help the group prepare for the biggest event of the season.
After the eggs have been harvested and the fish have returned to deep waters the Herring Protectors commemorate the season with a Ku.éex’, often referred to as a “potlatch” in English. These ceremonies often follow important events in the collective life of Lingít communities such as marriages, deaths, or the raising of a totem pole. They often consist of dancing, speeches, gift giving, and honoring traditional lifeways and ancestors. The Yaaw Ku.éex’ marks another beautiful year of being in relationship with Herring and all of the gifts that community members have spent months making are given away at this time. This ceremony socially balances and unites the community around common cause, celebrating and reinvigorating the fight for continuous reciprocity with the natural world.
The last major piece of the Herring Protectors’ work is the harvest itself. In late March and early April, traditional harvesters start the important work of preparing for the herring to return. The Herring Protectors and the Sitka Tribe of Alaska assist harvesters in the necessary activities to promote a sustainable yield. First, harvesters hike into the forest to fell and trim Hemlock trees for bundles of branches that will be used to augment the spawning ground of the depleted kelp beds and be the tool with which they harvest. Next, harvesters get in their boats and place the branches in the water, preparing to receive the shore-bound Herring. As the multitudes of fish leave shining mounds of eggs, traditional fishermen harvest a certain number of Hemlock branches. There are always eggs that are given back to the water to become herring. Many of the community’s harvesters generously donate their eggs to the Herring Protectors who rally volunteers to process, package and freeze the eggs until the ceremony in May. During the ceremony, these donated eggs are distributed to members of the community as well as Lingít people living all over Southeast Alaska. This preserves the relationship between the people and the fish in places where the fisheries no longer exist. Eggs are even sent to community members outside the state.
This movement is not just focused on preserving the ecological well-being of the Pacific Herring and the broader marine food web. It is not just focused on supporting traditional harvesting and cultural patrimony for Lingít people. Southeast Alaska is not an easy place to live. Lately, as the climate crisis and anthropogenic overuse of resources continue to advance, it is becoming even harder. There are acute mental health challenges throughout these communities, especially in the winter months. High cost of living and scarcity of traditional resources compounds these problems. Furthermore, small town sizes greatly limit robust access to healthcare. Gathering as a community to pass on knowledge, get active, and steward the natural world contributes to robust public health. From supplementing diets to giving struggling community members somewhere to go and re-engage with neighbors and friends, this group protects more than just the Herring. The Ku.éex marks not just the significance of the fish, but also the people who labor to protect them and, in the process, one another.
Not every geography has Herring and not every community has Kaxhatjaashaa and Herring Protectors. As the pace of the climate crisis accelerates, however, all of us do have something to fight for. Something that, should it fade from our world, will have invisible and visible negative impacts on our public health. We should rightfully recognize the task ahead as daunting. In the same breath, I hope the work of the Herring Protectors shows that we do not have to lose sight of the regenerative correlation awaiting us on the path to climate action. As Kh’asheechtlaa told the Alaska Board of Fisheries in that dimly-lit conference room “I asked the elders why they care about Herring so much, they said that It’s the joy, it’s the love, it’s the community that is built around our food.” Whether a traditional food or the forest down the road, may we all learn from the leaders of Lingít Aaní (Tlingít Country) how to find that love, that joy, and that community on our path towards a healthy and sustainable world.
Will Salaverry is a recent graduate of Silliman College.
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References
- Cunningham, M. & Still, L. A. The Subsistence Harvest of Pacific Herring in Sitka Sound, Alaska, 2021. Alaska Department of Fish and Game: Division of Subsistence, Technical Paper No. 486 (2021).
- Moss, M. L. The nutritional value of Pacific herring: An ancient cultural keystone species on the Northwest Coast of North America. J. Archaeol. Sci. Rep. 5, 649–655 (2016).
- Moss, M., Rodrigues, A., Speller, C. F. & Yang, D. Y. The historical ecology of Pacific herring: Tracing Alaska Native use of a forage fish. J. Archaeol. Sci. Rep. 8, 504–512 (2016).
- Okamoto, D. K., Pang, G. H., Quinlan, A. E., Salomon, A. K. & Vasquez-Vera, L. Measuring social-ecological resilience reveals opportunities for transforming environmental governance. Ecol. Soc. 24, 1–16 (2019).
Yale Global Health Review 