Yesterday was World Fisheries Day! In that spirit, Celeste Digiovanni, a PhD student in Environmental Geography studying marine governance in Canada wrote a post inspired from the point of view of an iconic species, the sockeye.
My eyes opened. There were thousands of others like me. I saw some emerging from their little jelly-like sacks amongst the gravel. I felt the cold, tasteless water on my scales for the first time. I gasped for my first breath and found it- was I alive? We started flapping our bits around and found rhythm, some of us more coordinated than others. I started to navigate this new underwater world beyond the sack that once confined me; slowly leaving, back to the gravel. New life.
We swam around the river as light turned into dark. We fed on the zooplankton that we could find. We outgrew our river, and as those before us, ventured into a much saltier and colder world. We encountered others that resembled us throughout our journey. Some were trapped in nets, but a few did escape; they were much bigger than I am, with little fish were feeding from their bodies. Other fish had big teeth and brilliantly coloured bodies, some even tried to eat us! I stayed close to my family to protect, and be protected, by others in our world that terrified me. We did a good job at keeping each other safe.
As the seasons changed, our bodies led us towards to the tasteless waters. We had grown to be an average of two feet! We were strong; or so I had thought. On our way home we reached a barrier- what was this? Rocks dammed our passage. A lot had changed since we had been home.
The panic set in. Members of my family thrashed their bodies against the rocks until the water was stained red; I watched them slowly leave me. The current was powerful, and we had to turn back, but few of us found the strength. We jumped over the current to change our direction when big furry beasts snatched my brothers and sisters from me, shaking their limp bodies until they were still. The few of us who were left trudged onwards- we had to find another route home.
We reached a patch of darkness on our alternate passage. There were bits of food hanging from the surface! I WAS STARVING. Before my family could stop me, I had leapt towards the surface to feed. OW- something pierced through my lip- I was levitating. I CANNOT BREATHE. I was tossed onto a hard surface, inspected. They called me a trophy fish. Suddenly, red lights surrounded us- “let the wild salmon go”- I was allowed to go home.
I found my family who were worried sick. We swam throughout the night and my lip began to heal. By morning we were finally home. There were brightly coloured hard things, netting, and a putrid film that transformed our natal grounds. What had happened in the past 6 years? I felt that my body was full and released the same jelly-like spheres that I once broke out of. As they fell to the gravel, so did I; slowly leaving, back to the gravel. New life.
~ celeste digiovanni, PhD candidate environmental geography