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Sea, Sweat, and Tears A Collection of Salt Water Essays
By: Michael Wolfe, Edilsa Martinez, Matthew San Martino, and Argelia Alvarado
Table of Contents:
Pg. 1 – Title Page
Pg. 2 – Table of Contents
Pg. 3 - Letter from the editor’s
Pg. 4 - 8 - “A Hike That Will Last A Lifetime” - Michael Wolfe
Pg. 9 - 13 - “A Father’s influence” – Edilsa Martinez
Pg. 14-18 – “Ocean Trash” – Matthew San Martino
Pg. 19-21 - “My New Beginning” – Argelia Alvarado
Pg. 22-25 – “The plight of salmon in the Pacific Northwest” – Shelley Cornelsen
Letter From The Editor’s
Throughout this quarter we have been striving to hone our writing composition skills
through various worksheets and essays. In our attempt to showcase this work we have compiled
a spectrum of examples from the Kappa Editorial Team. The essays that follow cover many
different examples of salt water bodies including sweat, tears, and the sea. We have writings of a
personal nature which include a detailed description of an experience through
sweat. Comparatively we write about tears, and their effect within several different writings, as
well as how it relates to ourselves. Persuasively we have covered issues within the sea, finding
detailed sources with which to support our argument for or against a particular issue. Our goal is
to allow the reader to learn different composition techniques through the captivating selections
we have compiled, or if nothing else, to simply enjoy the writing that follows.
A Hike That Will Last a Lifetime By: Michael Wolfe
Almost a year ago I embarked on the beginning of a new, amazing chapter in my life. A
year of preparation and planning went into the details and logistics, and I was fully ready; there
was no avoiding it and I had no urge to do so. I was getting married to the love of my life, Sarah.
We said our vows on July 23rd
, 2011 and while both the sun shining on our ceremony and the
anxiety that Uncle Larry would say something embarrassing surely had me sweating profusely, it
was nothing when compared to the honeymoon we had planned.
Sarah and I got married on a Saturday, and planned to spend the next few spending time
with our family that had come from out of state before jetting off to the Hawaiian Islands. Our
flight on Wednesday couldn’t come soon enough. We had our bags packed and our itinerary set
a couple days in advance, and our plan was established. When we arrived in Kauai we would
stay in a hotel for the first night to collect ourselves, and we would leave first thing in the
morning on a three day hike along the Napali coast.
We sat by the beach near our hotel and waited for the taxi-van we had arranged for to
arrive. It was a brisk Thursday morning and the sun was just breaking the horizon, making the
sky a shade of pinkish purple, slowly turning more orange as the time went by, the cool ocean
breeze soothing our anxious excitement. Our taxi arrived and we loaded our things with the help
of “J” our driver: an extremely friendly Hawaiian native who was more of a tour guide than a
cabby. It was about an hour to Haena State Park where the trail head would launch us into to the
beginning of our journey. Winding along the coast we started talking with J about whether he
had ever done the hike we were attempting, or if he had ever planned to. His response was a
little unnerving, in his thick island accent he claimed he hadn’t done the hike nor would he
attempt to because it sounded too difficult and dangerous for his liking. Throughout the forty
mile drive it rained intermittently, and this came of no surprise to J who informed us this was
normal because “It rains every day, somewhere on the island.”
As we said our goodbyes to J and thanked him for what seemed more like sightseeing
than a taxi ride, we grabbed our packs and double checked that we had everything crucial, a tent,
full hydration packs, iodine tablets, clothes, food, headlamps, we were set. The trailhead was
located close to popular snorkeling beach and even though it was early morning, the place was
packed. The first part of the trailhead had seen a lot of action, and as we made our way through
two miles of well groomed trail, which was wide enough to fit five bodybuilders side by side, we
couldn’t help but question J’s judgment of it being such a treacherous trail. It was beautiful; with
every switch back from the ocean side you could see the sharp, green edges that define the
Napali coast, along with clear green-blue waters which outlined the cliffs. We came to a beach a
three miles into the trail, where there were still plenty of tourists hanging out in the white sand
and bathing in the cloudless sunny sky. This was when we branched off onto the trail less
traveled.
From the sand we walked a little bit further and found another trail head which would
eventually lead us to the beach we were searching for. Almost from the start this trail differed
greatly from where the journey had started. Immediately we were cutting up a steep incline
through brush that was overtaking the trail, branches that we had to duck and dive under while
avoiding others that were just waiting to strike us in the face. As we climbed I could only think
of how glad I was to not be wearing cotton. The amount of perspiration that accompanied this
climb had already soaked my hair and I looked as if I had gone through a torrential downpour,
however the sky still remained cloud free.
The incline had diminished to almost zero and it seemed like what remained of the trail
was an endless amount of switchbacks as the coast line continued. The trail had narrowed
further to the point that walking single file was the only sufficient way of navigating the path,
and the brush had not relented its attack upon the trail. Although I had drank three liters of water
so far in our journey I had not had to relieve myself once, which I could only assume from the
faucet that was my forehead, I was losing enough water in sweat to cover that part of water
disposal. After hours through this tropical rainforest with smelled of ripened fruit and the
occasional tropical flowers, along switchbacks that seemed never ending we came to a bit of a
clearing. The trail had abruptly changed from claustrophobic brush and emerald mountains to a
warning sign which told us to beware of steep rocky cliffs. We had come into a scene that
looked more like a home for wild goats than the green and lush trail we had come from.
Through this part of the trail I will admit I was a little nervous. Sarah stopped once so
that I could snap a picture, but as I did this she let me know I could never show her mother
because of the steep face that she was standing against might send her mom into a panic. The
trail had shrunk to 16 inches in width, and was cutting across a cliff so steep that on one side I
could lean against the rock and still be standing, and the other a vertigo-inducing sheer drop to
the water below. We were both very cautious along this rocky path which was a shame because
the ocean breeze felt so pleasant and the waters were so clear and green like none I had ever seen
before. I didn’t ever want to look away from the ocean but without watching where my feet
were being placed I would no doubt end up swimming in those waters rather than admiring them
from 100 feet above. After navigating along the cliffs my new bride and I stopped to take a rest
and eat some bars and beef jerky we had packed as trail snacks. Although not the most elegant
of cuisine it was some of the most delicious food I had ever had after hiking for hours on end, the
salt from the jerky replenishing the electrolytes I had lost through sweat.
As we continued the dirt and rock turned into more of the tropical brush we had
originally come from, a sure sign we were getting close. After wading through a couple more
streams and navigating more and more switchbacks we came to a spot in the trail where the dirt
had turned red. We remembered when reading about this trail that if you reach the red dirt hills
you are about to make your final decent and there is only about a mile until the beach. The day
had remained clear and no water had fallen except that which was coming from our brow. There
is a picture I took of Sarah at this point, her hair plastered with sweat against her forehead and
along the side of her face that always reminds me of that feeling I had when we had come to this
spot in the trail. It was such relief that we had done it. We stuck it out and were only a mile
away from what we had planned almost a year before. As we made our final climb down we
made up a song which basically was variations of the same lyric, “one more mile,” over and over
again.
When we came upon the beach that would mark our home for the next two nights it was
the most glorious thing I have ever come across. I don’t know if I was just in need of rest and
oxygen but I dropped my pack when we had decided on a good spot to put the tent and just lay
on the beach taking in the amazing green cliffs which were jagged and magical in their
appearance, and breathed what I still think today was the cleanest air, looking out to the ocean
and just wanting to be in that moment forever. All of the strain and sweat and moments where
my heart skipped a beat, along with moments I didn’t think my heart could beat any faster, led to
this moment. It was completely satisfying and worth every step it took to get to this place in my
life. I haven’t been back to Hawaii since our honeymoon but that moment on that beach will
never fade from my memory, and if it takes me another 25 years to make it back there I know it
will all be worth it.
A Father’s Influence
By: Edilsa Martinez
“My Father’s Tears” by John Updike, tells the story of Jim, a son remembering his father
and the impact he made in his life when on his way to college, his father cried. Jim doesn’t recall
having a close and affectionate relationship with his father for the first eighteen years of his life
and seeing him cry was something he never expected.
Come to think of it, I saw my father cry only once. It was at the Alton train station, back
when the trains still run. I was on my way to Philadelphia to catch the train that would
return me to Boston and college…I blamed it on our shaking hands: for eighteen years,
we had never had occasion for this ritual, this manly contact, and we had groped our way
into it only in the past few years (Updike 1).
I have never seen my father cry. I have seen plenty of my mom’s tears, but not my
father’s. When I was twenty, I made the decision to leave my home, family and friends,
everything I’ve known, to move to the United States. After graduating from high school in
Medellin, where my father had moved his family 6 years ago to send us to a private school he
wanted his kids to go to, he moved us again to Armenia, the state capital of the coffee growing
region in Colombia. My father has always been open to big changes if they are backed by a good
purpose. My decision didn’t come as a surprise since my older brother had moved to the US
about 3 years before I did. When my brother came to visit for the first time, he insisted that I
should come to the US with him. I never had any doubt that my plans would come to fruition.
I was happy and looking forward to a new life in a new country of which I have heard
and learned so much about, and just the excitement of the unknown. I didn’t know what to
expect. Three days before my trip, my brother called me and said “it is time for you come. It is
the middle of summer, the best time to be in Seattle.” My father bought my plane ticket, gathered
my documents necessary for my trip. On Saturday morning, my mom, dad, and sister took me to
the airport. My mother was up all night crying and worrying about what could happen to me and
how much she was going to miss me.
My father, as usual, was taking care of all the minute details to ensure nothing was
forgotten. He loved to travel, move to new places and start all over again if he sees the potential
benefits of the opportunity. To my father’s thinking, my adventure was the beginning of a new
chapter of my life, with many opportunities. My father looked forward to a reunion with me in
my new foreign surroundings. Both of my father’s parents had died when he was still a teenager,
followed by the death of his two older brothers in the next three years. My father’s dreams and
aspirations where put on hold, as my father had to support himself in order to survive. In that
moment, at the airport, seeing his daughter off, he could see part of his dreams being realized. He
was happy to be part of helping his children achieve their dreams.
“He had loved me; it came to me as never before. It was something that had not needed to
be said before, and now his tears were saying it.” (Updike 1).
Jim finally felt his father’s love, which his father has never demonstrated this clear to him
before. His father must have been very stoic and unemotional when Jim was growing up.
My father’s feelings toward his children were very demonstrative and his daily actions
reassured us how much he cared.
My daily routine to get ready for school since first grade included combing and braiding
my hair. That was my dad’s job. Three daughters, with hair all the way to their waist, was a
responsibility not many would want to tackle. My father loved long hair and since we often
complained about how hard it was to deal with our hair, he devoted his mornings to braid our
hair to ensure that we didn’t insist on cutting it. Whenever my father sat down to visit with
people at home or at church, my sisters and I would fight over who would sit on his lap.
My father planned weekly family events were we shared as a family which showed how
much he cared about us. He took us to our favorite places to eat and was always making sure we
did as much possible together. When he had to go on short trips somewhere, he made sure to
bring our favorite fruits or snacks, just loaded with stuff for everyone. It is something we all still
share. Every time either my parents or us(his children) go on trips, we always bring samples of
foods or trinkets we know the others would like.
“But my father did foresee, the glitter in his eyes told me, that time consumes us – that
the boy I had been was dying if not already dead, and we would have less and less to do
with each other” (Updike 2).
Jim’s father, by this quotation did not want to see his son growing up and leaving the
nest. His father interpreted his son’s growing up, as losing his reliance on his father and seeing
the bonds of their relationship, diminishing as times moved forward.
Leaving home for ever and realizing that we were not going to be apart for at least a year
or two was just that; being physically absent for a while. Moving thousands of miles away from
my parents didn’t make a huge difference. We continued to be in constant communication,
keeping each other informed on all the happening in both parts of the diverse world we lived in.
We felt each other’s presence over the vast distance we were separated by. Moving out of my
parent’s house and living my own life, doing my own thing, does not have to exclude my parents
and siblings. Over the next four years, I went to visit them a couple of times and they came to
visit me once for 3 months. I was happy to have them here, being able to take them to my work,
my school, my church, introduced them to my friends and my new favorite foods. During those
three months, I took them on short trips around the islands, mountains, lakes, and parks. We
enjoyed our conversations about new experiences and plans for our future which included the
desired to have my parents living here with us.
John Updike demonstrated how the father’s tears were the result of feeling the loss of his
son and specially knowing that as time will march forward, life would be taking him farther
away from him and he would have less and less impact on his son’s life.
The constant presence of my father in my life, helped develop and nourish the
relationship that my father and I still enjoy today. We have been able to live close by again for
many years and later, they have been spending months at a time between where we live and
Colombia. When we are together, we spent as much time together as possible; we at least get
together at my parent’s house on Saturdays after church for lunch. I believe that a close
relationship between parents and children early on in life sets the stage for what the future
relationship would be.
My father’s perspective is quite the opposite of Jim’s father. My father sees my growing
up as an opportunity to advance our relationship even farther. As time moves forward, we are
growing as equals (adults) in life, which opens up more horizons for both of us to explore and
enjoy. Jim’s father interprets growing up to adulthood as the end of their relationship as he
knows it, were my father interprets adulthood as the beginning of a new and productive chapter
in a sharing of life together.
References
Update, John, “My Father’s Tears”, The New Yorker, February 27, 2006 Edition.
Ocean Trash By: Matthew San Martino
The world is 70% salt water and close to half of the world population lives within 100
kilometers of the coast. This makes the health of our precious ocean a very important and
relevant issue pertaining to the entire world. We as humans have a responsibility to take care
and respect our environment. However, we tend to do whatever we feel like no matter what the
consequences may be. This kind of mentality has pushed earth to its limits and has created
problems that could very well be irreversible. If we continue to live in ignorance of these
concerns we could end up destroying everything we have ever known.
A living ocean is critically important to every one of us. It creates numerous jobs, fuels
prosperity and regulates our climate. It provides us with food to eat, water to drink, and oxygen
to breathe. Whether we live on a beach or far from the coastline, we all have a profound stake in
an ocean that is healthy and abundant. Yet, year after year we are trashing our planet’s life-
support system. We are polluting our seas that extend to the most remote corners of the globe,
choking economies, killing wildlife, and impacting communities and human health (About.com:
Geography 1). Ocean trash grows daily with no end in sight. Without the ocean people will
starve, animals will go extinct and the staple of human life will be destroyed. Without a healthy,
abundant and clean ocean the world will fall apart. We have recycling systems set up in America
but are they really enough to change the damage we have already created worldwide. Therefore,
we step up and make a change in the way we live to help preserve our ocean and the sea life
inside it.
After watching shark week this past week I have started to understand the affect that humans
have on fish and all marine life. It was incredible how quickly people began killing off the shark
population after the movie Jaws came out, which just goes to show how the masses are so easily
persuaded. We are so focused on ourselves and what we have been doing that we forget that
each and every one of us is a part of something bigger. We need to figure out and get a grasp on
the situation so we can start to solve this problem one step at a time. We have put nets down that
spread as far as entire beaches to try and keep sharks out but this also catches innocent fish. This
fear has caused more death for sea life but it hasn’t changed the fact that we are invading their
homes, not vice versa. It’s not going to happen overnight which is why everyone needs to pitch
in a little bit and we can make a big change together.
The website water encyclopedia goes into detail about what typically pollutes the ocean and
throughout the past decade beverage bottles, milk cartons and green bottles are the most common
products that are found on beaches. Many times these products turn into unintentional fishing
traps that get marine animals caught (Water Encyclopedia 1). There is a growing number of
abandoned plastic fishing nets and this is becoming one of the greatest dangers for marine life.
Commonly called “ghost fishing”, the nets entangle seals, sea turtles and other animals often
resulting in drowning them. All this trash confuses birds and fish into thinking that this waste is
edible and can have a deadly effect on these innocent animals just looking for their next meal.
This is killing endangered species of fish, birds and turtles which is changing the ecosystem of
the ocean.
All of this trash has begun collecting throughout the ocean and has started generating
massive garbage patches. This issue has slowly been collecting steam but now with the new
discovery of a North Atlantic garbage patch; there is more fuel for the fire. This means that we
now know that there are multiple trash islands that are in multiple oceans. Some scientists
believe that the garbage patch in the pacific is the size, if not larger, than Texas. This pushes this
issue from a small to global problem that can affect all our lives. These patches are still mostly a
mystery to us, but what we do know is that the majority of the trash is plastic. Unlike most other
trash, plastic isn’t biodegradable because the microbes that break down other substances don’t
recognize plastic as food which leaves them floating around the ocean forever. As much as 10
percent of the 260 million tons of plastic produced annually ends up in the oceans (National
Geographic 1). Sunlight does eventually photo degrade plastic, reducing it to smaller pieces, but
this just makes matters worse. Now, the plastic is small enough that tiny marine organisms are
eating it and then entering the food chain. This can affect every animal within the ocean. All
those plastics in the patches consist of items like water bottles, cups, bottle caps, plastic bags,
and fish netting. The items that make up these trash islands aren’t just plastic. Scientists have
also found billions of pounds of raw plastic pellets called nurdles. These pellets are a byproduct
of other plastics manufacturing (About.com: Geography 2).
Humankind has developed this sort of hubris that makes us think that we have control
over everything and that nothing can stop us from doing what we want. Through our progression
and advancement in technology we believe that we have everything figured out. We have lost
sight on what is truly important for the future of our species. Throughout this past week while I
was observing shark week, like a lot of other people, I noticed how little we actually know about
the ocean. The ocean is so vast, yet we have managed to damage sea life, endanger marine
animals, and pollute its waters more in the past century than in all past centuries combined. We
need to stop this problem at the source and that’s with everyone doing their one part to keep the
earth clean. We have to learn to throw away our trash and to reuse things so we don’t have to
continue to plastic materials. Each and every one of us has a responsibility to care and respect
our ocean by preserving it to maintain a healthy environment.
Works Cited
Briney, Amanda.“Trash Islands.” About.com: Geography. Updated March 24, 2009.Web.
August 14, 2012. (About.com: Geography)
Handwerk, Brian. “Giant Ocean: Trash Vortex Attracts Explorers.” National Geographic
News.Updated July 31, 2009.Web. August 14, 2012. (National Geographic)
“Pollution of the Ocean by Plastic and Trash.”Water Encyclopedia: Science and issues.Copyright
2012.Web. August 14, 2012. (Water Encyclopedia)
My New Beginning
Traveling the world is a beautiful thing. By traveling, you experience new experiences
that you haven’t been through ever. Before it is life changing, meeting new people, and learning
more about this so called world we live in. Six years ago I made the decision that would change
my life forever. This small traveling trip of mine impacted my life. By coming to the United
States, I left my home town, experienced new things, and called this place my new home.
First of all, I came from a country, which has very good schooling, wonderful food, and
beautiful landscapes such a green big mountains and where you can feel that you are in top of the
world. My home country is Honduras. Honduras is located on almost near the middle of the
equator, and is in Central America between El Salvador and Guatemala. I was born in my first
house, which was in Puerto Cortes, I also spent my childhood, and teenage life in this city until I
moved to the United States. A normal day in Puerto Cortes for a child/teen female would be to
arrive to school. You would ether go to public or private like in the United States but I was
fortunate enough that I was in a private school while growing up. Private school in Honduras is
very different then here in the United States, in Honduras if you go to private school there are a
lot of rules as, if you don’t pass a class basically you can’t pass at all because you have already
been given the choice to take the responsibility, required meetings every morning in a recreation
room with everyone from all grade levels and prayed, the uniforms were very strict your skirt
had to be five fingers under your knee and your uniform has to always be clean, and girls cannot
wear makeup the Teachers will make you wash your face. I always remember in the morning the
security would check bags and backpacks for drugs, illegal firearms, and other things that would
not be permitted into a school yard. We had more than seven classes during only one day with
different teachers but in the same room so basically the teachers would switch out during break
and you would have all the same class mates every year until you graduate. In the mornings once
we were back from recreation room, in our class room we would line up in a line to do uniform
check, if your uniform wasn’t to the right satisfaction then you were sent to the office and filed a
report against, if you get three reports you get suspended. We started school at 7am and got out
at 3pm we had a break 10:30 for a half an hour and second break at 1:00 for another 30 minutes.
We had school Monday – Saturday. Saturday was our extra curriculum day we would do music
and English. Everyone gets very excited when the New Year starts. Why is that? Is because we
get a new uniform and all new classes with different teachers. The school year for started
January until November, and I got a two month break during that December, and January. My
school was big and it had three large department buildings, it was white, I remember the first
thing you could see while entering was the principle office so they could see everyone, and they
had attendance check at the door while entering. It was located next to a big soccer stadium
which we would sometimes have Physical Education in the stadium with their permission. I
always had my class rooms on the second floor, and there were a lot of windows from what I
remember so we could always see the different grade levels be outside while we were inside.
There was also another high school next to us that we could see through the window, and we
used to throw stuff to them such as papers, notes, pencil, or whatever we could find that could
fly. School was some of the best years of my life, and I could keep going on and on about the
memories I made.
The food is so wonderful in Honduras I miss it so much. I just need to smell the food, and it
makes me so hungry as if it’s my alarm in the morning. My most favorite category of food down
there is soups, it is always so fresh and delicious, for example seafood soup it is prepared with all
seafood such as shrimps, clams, oysters, muscles, snail, octopus, lobster, and cod fish it was
cooked in coconut milk, with green banana and a serving on the side of white rice I love this a lot
it makes my stomach feel so warm inside, and didn’t make me full but made me satisfied. There
are a lot of different foods and ways to prepare them but this is my all-time favorite meal.
The landscapes are so beautiful in Honduras from the beaches to the mountains to the normal
streets I love everything about it. The beaches have mostly light colored sand, and when you
walk on the sand it feels you were to get a foot massage with warm hands, the sky is always blue
and connects to the horizon so perfectly in the distant view the water is sky blue, and see-
through. When you walk on the beaches of some areas, local people with carts sell merchandise
to the public and sometime food carts come by. Honduras beaches there are magnificent,
relaxing, place to relax, fun, with loud music and drinks, parties, awesome is a place to get busy
having fun ,exploring ,enjoying from the moment the sun rises until it drops below the horizon
there are countless things to do and places to visit so have fun at any time day or night The
mountains are breath taking sight, when you a driving past the mountains you see the peaks
sticking into the clouds, all the mountains have a jungle-like look and are green and hilly.
The normal streets are always filled with people on feet, because a lot of people don’t drive,
there are a lot of stray dogs that walk along the street and like on the beaches, people with carts
of food or who offer merchandise walk along the streets.
I miss my home country a lot, I have a lot of memories of school, the food, and the landscapes
still in my head from the last time I’ve gone back, I will never forget my home and is so hard to
be away from it.
The plight of salmon in the Pacific Northwest
By Shelley Cornelsen
The salmon are disappearing at an astonishing rate. They once were abundant, but we as humans, overuse
and abuse everything this planet has to offer. You can see it everywhere you look. We are a gluttonous
race with an ego that is much too large. We have lost our ability to be in touch with Mother Nature,
probably due to the fact that we are surrounded by concrete and smog, and have no empathy for the very
things that we should be protecting. The four biggest reasons that the salmon population is dwindling are
habitat degradation, hatchery operations, dams, and water diversions. We are killing a species that has
been around for millions of years. They were on this earth before we were, and that alone should grant
them our respect. For thousands of years they have supplied us with food, nourishment, and jobs. How
have we paid them back for all they have done for us? We have destroyed their habitats, blocked their
natural paths, played god by manipulating their offspring, and in some places, almost fished them to
extinction.
Urban development and encroachment of rivers takes away much from the native salmon. We have over
populated and every year we take more and more away from the animals that used to live where we plop
down new developments. As we push further into the woods, and forest, and closer to every river, lake,
creek, and sea, we don’t give a thought to the creatures that live there or what their needs might be. They
need the trees to shade the water and keep it cool, the shrubs and branches along the bank to keep the
banks stable. When these banks become unstable floods are more likely which can wash away eggs and
young salmon. Salmon cover their eggs in gravel to keep them safe from light, ducks, gulls, and trout.
When the river has been severely disrupted they cannot find the gravel to keep their eggs safe.
Dams have been a problem for salmon from the beginning. They were thoughtlessly built with only the
human’s needs to consider. They block the salmon’s natural passage and many do not have fish ladders.
Added to that, they are tremendously dangerous for the salmon. It may be that people were uneducated,
but according to what author Julie Crandall proposed in her book, The Story of Pacific Salmon, that
juvenile salmon and steelhead are too small to be injured by turbines: “If the turbine does not turn faster
than seventy-five times per minute practically no harm is done to the fish, since they are so small and can
dart through so swiftly.” This is one of the most foolish and heartless statements I have seen. The
Northwest Councils states that “Juvenile fish that are drawn into the turbine pits by the current can be
killed or injured. Usually these mortalities or injuries are caused when the fish strike the spinning blades
or the concrete walls. The intense water pressure also can kill the fish. Biologists estimate that if turbine
passage is the only way past a dam, 10 to 15 percent of the fish that are drawn through the turbines will
die. With that much mortality at least possible at each dam, fish that pass multiple dams, such as fish from
central Washington or the Snake River, have a statistically high probability of dying before they pass the
last dam, Bonneville.” If they go through five dams and ten percent die through each dam, that is an
astonishing rate. Half of the time and money spent raising these fish has been a waste. They need a safe
and natural passage through. Salmon are tuned to the waters ebb and flow, the push and pull rhythm helps
them stay their course to their destination. The dams alter habitats by creating reservoirs and raising the
temperature of the water. Dams change the natural instincts of the salmon. They no longer have their
natural route, which they have travelled for millions of years. If and when the dam is ever removed, the
salmon try to swim their old path they can no longer find their way. It forever changes their ability to
migrate and get to where they need and want to be. The same thing would happen to the birds that fly
south for the winter if you put a big wall in front of them. It changes them at a fundamental level.
There was a time that I thought hatcheries were a wonderful thing and it never entered my mind that they
could be doing harm to the very species they were trying to protect and grow. I, like most people, never
gave hatcheries much of a thought. They are there, they hatch fish and release them into the wild. When I
started to realize that there were real problems and dangers with hatcheries, I started to look into them
more. While I still think that hatcheries are a necessary part of life, my opinions on them are forever
changed. Hatcheries have operated in Washington State for over a hundred years. The Kalama river
hatchery opened in 1895. They have provided many jobs and have helped to keep the salmon population
numbers up. According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife(WDFW) they now operate 87
hatcheries and 75-80% are dedicated to producing salmon. Although these hatcheries are very expensive
to run, they are vital to out economy in the Northwest. Most of the salmon caught in the Puget Sound are
from these very hatcheries. In recent years hatcheries have taken on a new vital role in preserving our
salmon, they are trying to recover and conserve the natural salmon populations. However, they have some
very high risks that must be considered.
The Northwest Fisheries Science Center says ”Inbreeding can occur when the population for a hatchery
comes from a small percentage of the total wild and/or hatchery fish stock (for example, 100 adults are
used out of a population of 1 million). If only a small number of individuals are used to create the new
hatchery stock, genetic diversity within a population can be reduced. Inbreeding can affect the survival,
growth and reproduction of salmon..” The people who work at hatcheries often choose the largest salmon,
or the most colorful instead of letting the fish naturally select their partners. If hatchery salmon are bigger
than the wild salmon, they can eat their smaller counterparts. Additionally, if the number of hatchery fish
released into an area is bigger than the number of wild salmon, the hatchery fish are more likely to be
aggressive and disrupt the natural interactions. Hatchery fish are raised in circular tanks and have no
understanding of underwater structure, natural food supply, foraging, of predator avoidance. The most
heartbreaking thing of all to happen is disease outbreak. When the diseased fish are let out into the wild
they infect the other fish. Salmon cover amazing distances and can infect many fish in several areas,
which in turn those newly infected fish infect other fish. It’s a vicious and long reaching cycle. I’m not
sure the salmon could survive, as a species, with out us, and I’m quite sure we can’t live without them.
There are so many problems with the hatcheries, but we’re stuck between a rock and a hard place with
them.
We need to help the salmon as much as possible without interfering in their lives too much. We need to
try to get them back to their natural state. All it will take from us is a little bit of thought, foresight, and
consideration. We cannot undo all of the damage that we have done, but we can prevent further damage
and destruction to a creature that does so much for us.
References:
http://www.nwcouncil.org/history/DamsImpacts.asp,
http://wdfw.wa.gov/hatcheries/overview.html,
http://www.nwfsc.noaa.gov/resources/search_faq.cfm?faqmaincatid=3