Killer lice

A parasite the size of a thumbtack is flourishing in B.C.'s fish farms - and wiping out the wild salmon, writes Taras Grescoe
Wild salmon are virtually extinct in the Atlantic Ocean, yet tens of millions of Atlantic salmon are being raised in farms in the Pacific; the U.S.-based Safeway supermarket chain has announced that it is curtailing purchases of disease-ridden farmed salmon from Chile; and returns of wild salmon on the British Columbia coast seem to be declining from year to year.

Choosing farmed salmon, some people will tell you, means consuming some of the most toxic chemicals known to humanity. Opting for wild-caught salmon, others insist, could make you complicit in driving already fragile salmon stocks to local extinction. No wonder so many people end up settling for chopped cucumber in their maki rolls at the sushi bar.

Yet there really is no need for confusion. Where you stand on the wild-or-farmed-salmon issue should come down to what you think about a thumbtack-sized crustacean that survives by eating the scales and skin off the same fish that we love to eat - an ugly, creeping, little beastie known as the sea louse.

I was first shown sea lice on salmon smolts by Alexandra Morton, an American-born marine biologist who has lived in a floathouse in Echo Bay, in the Broughton Archipelago, for more than 20 years. The Broughton, a jumbled jigsaw puzzle of islands scattered off B.C.'s mid-coast, is home to sea otters, great blue herons and, until recently, a resident population of killer whales. It is considered one of the richest pockets of biodiversity on the coast - or at least it was until the salmon farms came along.

Aboard her boat one afternoon, Ms. Morton told me how she had welcomed the first net cages when they were towed into local bays in the late 1980s: She hoped that they would provide employment for local people. But then the killer whales were driven away by the acoustic devices the farms used to discourage them and other predators, fishermen started pulling up prawn traps and clams dripping with rotting pellets and salmon feces, and the wild salmon began to disappear.

In the late 1990s, a Scottish tourist at a fishing lodge near Ms. Morton's floathouse asked, "Do you have the scourge of the sea lice yet?" The visitor explained that after the salmon-farming industry came to Scotland, sea lice started appearing in great quantities on wild fish; he had seen the same parasites on the salmon he had just caught in the Broughton.

Alarmed, Ms. Morton took out a dip net and pulled up dozens of wild juvenile pink salmon. They were bleeding from the eyeballs and the base of the fins. Most of them were covered with brown flecks - juvenile sea lice. As they grow, changing their body shape every few days, these parasitic copepods strip mucus, scales and skin from the growing fish. While a full-grown salmon has an armour coating of scales and can survive an infestation, the parasites exhaust the young fish and quickly kill them off.

Using hand seine nets to sample local waters, Ms. Morton established that the salmon farmers were raising millions of adult farmed Atlantic salmon along the migration routes of wild Pacific salmon - in exactly those inlets and estuaries where juvenile wild Pacific fattened up before going to sea. Suddenly, the decline of wild salmon populations did not seem like such a mystery: The 27 farms in the Broughton, had, by crowding normally nomadic fish into tightly packed nets, become ranches for sea lice, concentrating and fatally passing on parasites to wild salmon when they were at their most vulnerable.

In 2002, government scientists predicted that 3.6 million pink salmon would return to the Broughton. Fewer than 150,000 did - a 97-per cent-population crash.

Though the salmon farming industry has done its best to muddy the waters, Ms. Morton has science, as well as some of the leading fisheries scientists in the world, on her side. Analyzing data from Ireland, Scotland and Atlantic Canada, the late Ransom Myers of Dalhousie University showed that disease and parasites spread by farmed salmon reduced the survival of local populations of wild salmon and sea trout by more than 50 per cent per generation. In December, 2007, Ms. Morton and colleagues from the University of Alberta and Dalhousie published a paper in Science, one of the world's most prestigious peer-reviewed science journals, projecting the complete collapse of pink salmon in the Broughton by 2011 if the sea lice continue to infest fish.

The evidence is on their side: Everywhere salmon farms have appeared, from Norway to Chile, they have spread disease and parasites to local fish. This year, Ms. Morton told me, sea lice have for the first time shown up on juvenile herring and sockeye in the Strait of Georgia; she found large numbers of them near a fish farm in Clayoquot Sound (a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve where the multinational Mainstream, which is 45-per-cent owned by the Norwegian government, has been allowed to operate 14 salmon farms).

This spring, thousands of newborn pink salmon are leaving the Broughton Archipelago's Ahta River and schooling near the 600,000 adult Atlantic salmon awaiting harvest at the Glacier Falls farm. Employees have already treated fish in the farm with a pesticide called Slice, a potent neurotoxin that kills not only sea lice, but also affects lobsters and other sea creatures we eat. (Though Slice has never been officially approved in Canada, "emergency" permits are routinely granted to salmon farmers by veterinarians, and Health Canada now allows trace amounts of Slice in the flesh of farmed salmon in our supermarkets.) But even this heavy-duty poison has not killed off all the sea lice this year. Samples taken by Ms. Morton show that 17 per cent of the juvenile fish next to the Glacier Falls site are already infested with the parasites.

In March, she announced plans to "medevac" the fish to safety. Using a technique that is standard in hatcheries, she would net the juveniles, put them in a tank full of ocean water and ferry them past the Glacier Falls farm and back to their migration route. On the day of the proposed operation, a seaplane touched down beside her boat, and she was handed a letter, informing her that the federal Department of Fisheries and Oceans had refused to give her permission to transport the fry.

"The department rejected the idea," Ted Perry of the DFO's Pacific Biology Station in Nanaimo told CBC Radio, "because we think it's the best thing for the fish. There's a lot of handling that goes on with the proposed moving. ... It's a very stressful process for young fish."

For Ms. Morton, the DFO's contention that it rejected her plea purely in the interests of the fish is just so much spin. She points out that the department currently has a team in the Broughton netting and killing thousands of juvenile salmon for scientific purposes.

"The government is still trying to make this sound like it's a really complicated issue," she says. "It's not. It's simple: Industrial salmon farms in British Columbia are spreading sea lice to wild salmon. Where political will is behind the wild fish and the salmon farms have been banned, the fish are doing just fine."

She points out that Alaska, whose economy depends on the wild catch and where salmon farms are strictly prohibited, had two of its biggest harvests in history for pink and sockeye salmon last year.

The salmon farmers have accused Ms. Morton of engineering a publicity stunt, using photogenic baby fish to draw attention to their industry.

She and her colleagues counter that their concern is genuine: These may be among the last generations of pink salmon in the Broughton Archipelago. (Ms. Morton's funding comes in dribs and drabs from B.C. fishermen sympathetic to her cause. She is trying to raise money to challenge the government's decision at http://www.adopt-a-fry.org.)

Meanwhile, what is a consumer who is inclined to eat ethically to do? Oddly, the best way to save the wild salmon of the Pacific may be to eat them (in moderation, of course, and paying close attention to which species and stocks are abundant; pink salmon runs from other parts of B.C. are healthy, and Nass River sockeye and most Alaskan salmon stocks are in good shape).

Eating farmed salmon, in contrast, encourages an industry that is insidiously undermining wild stocks around the world. The industry could clean up its act by switching to land-based, closed-containment systems that don't spread parasites and pollutants to the wild. Until then, however, supporting well-managed sport and commercial fisheries, and subsidizing habitat restoration, is the only way to ensure that wild salmon will survive into the future. We need to look at salmon the way we used to: not as the cheap protein in a million in-flight meals, but an occasional luxury - one that is well worth paying more for.

When Robert Burns wrote To a Louse in 1785, the rivers of Scotland - and those of much of Europe - supported healthy populations of wild salmon. Generations of overfishing and habitat destruction in the fjords and firths effectively dug a mass grave for the wild fish; the disease, pollution and parasites that arrived with industrial salmon farms spread the final layer of quicklime on their corpses. In the Atlantic, wild salmon are now considered commercially extinct.

The salmon of the Pacific still stand a chance. Yet when Irish and Scottish scientists and fisheries managers came to B.C. last year to testify before the province's Special Committee on Sustainable Aquaculture about how sea lice had killed off their native salmon and sea trout populations, they were shocked. Why, they wondered, would Canadians risk endangering one of the planet's last great salmon populations to profit a few Norwegian companies?

I have been wondering the same thing myself. The great mystery is what we as Canadians stand to gain from salmon farming. Of the 149 sites in B.C., 130 are fully owned by Norwegian companies, while only 11 are wholly Canadian-owned. The profits go to bank accounts in Oslo, licensing fees are laughably low and companies are allowed to continue operating farms even after their leases have expired. Local employment is minimal and rarely long-term - as I witnessed on my visit to several farms, the staff is mostly college-aged - and as the industry becomes increasingly automated, the ratio of jobs to kilograms of fillet produced constantly decreases.

The province's marine sports fishery, which one day may disappear because of sea lice, employs 4,200 and brings $158-million of revenue to the province. Salmon farming provides only 1,800 full-time jobs and, according to B.C.'s Ministry of Environment, contributes just $61-million to the gross domestic product.

As Canadians, citizens of a country that once had a worldwide reputation for its forward-thinking environmental policies, we should be mortified by our elected officials' shortsightedness. (This month, the B.C. government announced a moratorium on new permits north of Klemtu - a village 275 kilometres south of the border with Alaska. Meanwhile, they quietly approved two new farm permits on the south coast.)

Like the most parochial banana republic of old, we've leased out our natural riches to a handful of distant head offices. They reap the profits, and we pay the environmental price - in the form of ever lousier and increasingly scarcer wild salmon.

Robson Bight's worrying lessons

We've criticized Environment Minister Barry Penner for the sluggish response after a barge loaded with logging equipment -- including a tanker truck full of diesel fuel -- dumped its cargo in Robson Bight last year.

So it's fair to praise both Penner and federal Fisheries Minister Loyola Hearn for launching a salvage effort to recover the equipment, particularly the tanker truck with 10,000 litres of fuel. The operation, expected to cost $750,000 to $1 million, is critical to protect killer whales in the ecological reserve.

The challenge now is to drive the recovery process forward as rapidly as possible, with the maximum safeguards in place for the inherently risky operation.

The migratory whales will return to Robson Bight in late June or July. The recovery work needs to be completed before they arrive, given the risks, or it might have to wait until next spring.

That kind of delay would create new dangers; each month beneath the surface means more corrosion and potentially catastrophic failure of the fuel tanks on the vehicles.

While we applaud the decision, the federal and provincial governments should launch a proper review of this debacle and their slow response. The list of questions requiring answers is long.

- Why was the barge being towed through the reserve in the first place? The area is supposed to be off limits to shipping. (Initial government reports wrongly claimed the barge capsized outside the reserve boundaries.)

- Why did the Canadian Coast Guard say there was no need to inspect the wreckage, arguing -- again wrongly -- that the diesel truck would have imploded under the pressure on the seabed?

- And why did the coast guard claim that underwater inspection would be too costly, citing an exaggerated estimate?

- Why did it take the federal and provincial government two critical months to agree to pay for the underwater inspection, then almost another two months to arrange the mission?

- And why did it take eight months from the time of the incident for the government agencies to make a decision on raising the threatening seabed debris, increasing both the continuing risk and the challenge of raising the equipment?

Of course, care must be taken to ensure the correct choices are made. But these delays are extraordinary, especially when the public would expect protocols and plans to be in place for just such predictable occurrences on our heavily travelled coast.

Given the federal and provincial government's interest in increased tanker traffic and offshore oil and gas development, it's critical that they learn from the poor response to this disaster..

Orca Stranded on Sandwood Bay

A stranded Orca has been found at Sandwood Bay on the John Muir Trust’s Sandwood Estate in Sutherland. The eight and a half metre long adult is thought to be a male and has been stranded for too long to establish a cause of death.

According to Hebridean Whale and Dolphin Trust(2) this is an unusual find. ‘Since 1992 there have been only 11 killer whale stranding incidents in Scotland, so this is quite an unusual occurrence. The last reported killer whale stranding in Scotland was a juvenile in the Firth of Forth in May 2007,’ commented Susannah Calderan, the Biodiversity Officer for the Trust.

In the past month large groups of killer whales have been seen around the northern coasts of Scotland and the Isle of North Rona, some of which have been seen taking seals. It is possible that the Cape Wrath animal was a member of one of these groups, although currents in the area are quite strong, so it could equally have been carried in from offshore. The other possibility is that it could be one of a small population thought to be resident in Scotland’s Hebridean waters.

Orcas are one of the ocean's top predators. Different pods tend to specialise in what they eat, but diets can range from fish, octopus and squid, to birds, seals, sharks and large whales. Males are much larger than females, and it is easy to tell adults apart, males having a tall straight dorsal fin measuring up to 6 foot high, whilst females have a more dolphin-shaped fin. Despite the name ‘killer whale’ orcas are in fact the largest member of the dolphin family.

Orcas have been hunted in the past for commercial whaling, and are still captured for public display, although there are no captive dolphins in the UK. At the top of the food chain, they have no natural predators, and are at risk only from man's activities. The natural life span of a wild orca is up to 60 years for males and 90 years for females.

Salvaging of wreckage at Robson Bight OK'd

A fuel tanker and other logging equipment containing pollutants will be recovered from the ocean floor near Robson Bight, the provincial and federal governments announced yesterday.

But the salvage operation might not happen before the annual visit of orcas in June, Environment Minister Barry Penner said.

"We'll try to avoid the time when we know they'll be there, just in case something went wrong," Penner said, adding it's possible the operation will be delayed until after the migration.

"My preference is to do it first, but for the last week or two, my ministry staff have been canvassing various salvage operators to check on their availability and interest ... and it's going to be a real challenge to marshal enough equipment and resources to do this before mid-June."

Eleven pieces of equipment tumbled off a barge when it tipped on Aug. 20, 2007. The gear went into water that's 350 metres deep and is in an area designated as an environmental reserve. The equipment, belonging to Ted LeRoy Trucking of Chemainus, contained an estimated 19,000 litres of petroleum, some of which immediately started leaking into the famed killer whale habitat, where threatened northern resident killer whales rub themselves on pebble beaches.

Penner and federal Minister of Fisheries and Oceans Loyola Hearn made the joint announcement to split the cost of the operation, which could be between $750,000 to $1 million.

The chances of recovering the costs from Ted LeRoy Trucking are slim, since the firm has filed for bankruptcy.

The cost "is very dependent on weather conditions," Penner said. The cost will also depend on the number of pieces of equipment recovered, and the priority will be those that pose the greatest risk of pollution, he said.

"The price tag will go up as you try to recover additional pieces, which are more dispersed," Penner said.

The government wants to minimize potential impacts on orcas and other wildlife.

"We think this is great news," said Jennifer Lash of Living Oceans Society. "Hopefully, they'll be able to move on it really quickly and they'll get that equipment removed before the whales come back in June."

Paul Spong, director of OrcaLab, a whale research station on Hanson Island, was jubilant upon hearing the news.

"I'm very relieved, I have to say. We're right on the brink on the time where a decision needed to be made in order to do the job before the orcas return this summer," he said.

The orcas could pass through in late June or even early July, Spong said, so "they need to aim for getting that tanker out of there by the middle of June."

Spong said the salvage operator could use a shroud that would go over the tanker "and if there's leakage as the tanker came up, it would be contained."

Recent video footage of the sunken equipment shows the vehicles are mostly upright and relatively undamaged. The tanker, which carries 10,000 litres, doesn't appear to be leaking.

Great care must be taken in the salvage operation, Lash said.

"We need to make sure we're working with salvage experts who will not just get the equipment to the surface but will minimize the amount of oil leaking out of the equipment, because [a major spill] would be a disaster," she said.

Lessons can be learned from this experience, Lash said.

"We want to know why a barge with logging equipment was even in Robson Bight in the first place. The amount of traffic going up and down the coast is increasing every day," she said.

"We'd like to see the government have a plan for this area that manages the traffic and looks after the environment."

Transient killer whale hunt captured on film by researchers

Two researchers from the Center for Whale Research, Dave Ellifrit and Adam U., were out in a boat Wednesday when they encountered a group of seven transient killer whales near Edwards Point off the west side of San Juan Island.

They noticed some action in the distance, then observed a chase involving a Dall's porpoise and her calf, both of which probably got eaten. The whales then moved south of Eagle Point and took a harbor seal quite close to the two researchers, Adam reports.

For the first dramatic photos, go to the Center for Whale Research. Webmaster Kelley Balcomb-Bartok told me he hopes to post more photos once they get processed.

Speaking of the Center for Whale Research, you've got to check out the new "OrcaCam," which provides a clear view from the deck of the center. The most impressive feature is the ability for anyone to operate the camera -- pan and zoom -- with only an Internet connection and a browser with JAVA.

Please read the instructions carefully and practice if you have the intent of operating the camera when whales are present. Otherwise, I hope folks will give up control to someone else when whales are moving through the area.