It’s late April in the upper Lynn Canal, and that means the saak are coming! The snow is melting and spring winds kick up dust storms on the newly exposed flats of the lower Chilkat River. Many refer to these cold winds, dust storms, and the frequent passing of snow and rain squalls as “hooligan weather.”
Saak (also called “eulachon” in the scientific literature, and “hooligan” out on Main Street) are a small fish in the smelt family. They are anadromous, which means they spawn in fresh water, usually near the mouth of a glacial or snowmelt-fed stream. Hooligan don’t build redds like salmon, but instead release their eggs and milt into the water over clean sand or gravel substrates. Indigenous traditional knowledge tells us that hooligan “scouts” come up the river early to investigate conditions and to get the spawning areas ready for the rest of the schools that will follow. It is customary to leave these scouts unmolested–to not harvest them, swim in the river, or allow dogs to swim in the river–until after they have completed their work and the main body of the spawning population has arrived. After fertilization the eggs stick to the streambed and hatch in three to eight weeks, depending on the temperature. Warmer water means faster incubation. The hooligan larvae then drift out into the estuary where it is thought they spend the first year of their life, after which they spend the next one to four years out in the ocean, before eventually returning to spawn when they are six to ten inches in length and between two and five years old. It is not known whether or not they return to their natal streams to spawn, like salmon, or if they go wherever conditions are appropriate. It is thought that they probably return to the general vicinity of their birth, but we don’t know for sure.
Hooligan are considered an endangered species over the southern parts of their range from California through British Columbia, and many runs are now extinct. The hooligan run in the Unuk River near Ketchikan also may be struggling. Here in the Upper Lynn Canal, however, the population appears to be holding on, and we still get frequent large runs of hooligan in the Chilkoot and Chilkat Rivers, and sometimes also in other local rivers like the Ferebee and Katzehin. Chilkoot Indian Association and Takshanuk Watershed Council have been monitoring the Chilkoot River spawning population since 2010, and we started monitoring the Chilkat, Ferebee, and Katzehin rivers in 2017 using a newly-developed environmental DNA sampling method. The Skagway Traditional Council monitors the hooligan runs in the Taiya and Skagway rivers.
We have found that the strength of the spawning runs in the Chilkoot River can vary widely from year to year. This also corresponds with the traditional knowledge. The year 2019 saw a whopping 26 million fish, and the river was overflowing with streaming waves of iridescent blue and black. But in 2015, 2021, and 2022 there were very few fish at all in the Chilkoot River. However, in all three of these years there were relatively strong spawning runs in the Chilkat, and so it is now thought that if the hooligan show up to a river and the conditions aren’t to their liking, they may just go and spawn in another river near-by. Or alternatively, if they find good conditions elsewhere they may not even bother checking in on their natal stream. This certainly appeared to be the case in 2015 when large schools of hooligan appeared in Lutak Inlet but very few entered the Chilkoot River. Instead, the other rivers in the neighborhood–the Ferebee, Taiya, and Skagway–all hosted large runs that year.
For many centuries before the weekly barges and grocery stores, the saak run was the first large food resource to become available after the long winter, and it was sometimes called the “salvation fish.” The oil rendered from saak is highly nutritious and doesn’t spoil easily, and so it was one of the most valuable and important trade goods all up and down the northwest coast. Many grease trails over the mountains from the sea to the interior were built and maintained–and often jealously guarded, as was the case here in Jilḵáat Aaní and over the Chilkat Pass. According to Daax̱ ḵu dein (Tommy Jimmie, Jr.), “Saak have been called ‘the people of the light’ because they were present when the raven released the light back into the world. As people of Haines I believe we undervalue the good fortune hooligan has provided us. Aside from food and the oil, the hooligan provides the rich traditions that have made Haines a place set as an example of the importance of a positive attitude.”
So this year, if we are once again fortunate enough to see a big run of saak in our local rivers, let’s get out there to greet and harvest “the people of the light” with respect, and also with big smiles on our faces and love for this amazing place in our hearts.