September Happenings Aboard FV Fairweather

Hello, seafood family! 🐟

 

And greetings from the coho salmon grounds! It's our eleventh week of coho salmon season, and (for better or worse) the end is very much in sight! Storms are rolling in with increasing frequency, and a few of the cohos we bring aboard are beginning to take on a rosy hue (also known as blush).

 

It's quite extraordinary: long before they return to their natal rivers (the final leg of their spawn-then-die journey), salmon begin undergoing pre-spawn changes out in the ocean.

 

Coho undergo one of the more subtle transformations: their cobalt blue backs give way to forest green, and shiny white bellies take on a rosy, pink appearance. The males become quite distinct from the females: their noses protrude out, and hook sharply downward. Other salmon species engage in even more impractical transformations: male chum salmon turn dark green, with deep purple stripes; while pink salmon form a distinct "hump" on their back, earning them the nickname "humpies".

 

It's aways amazed me that salmon are biologically preparing to spawn even before they re-enter freshwater. The changes are subtle all summer long, but show an experienced fisherman a few different salmon, and they'll be able to tell you what month they were harvested.

 

Though not quite as dramatic as salmon, we always look a little different at the end of the season, too. Caleb and crew's arms and back are hardened from the back-to-back 18 hour days on deck. Callouses are built up from constant knife work, and Caleb's earned a few fresh grey hairs, too.

 

My seasons look very different now than they did a handful of years ago -- days previously spent working hard on deck, have now been replaced with toddler snuggles and playing blocks on the top house floor. Unlike the rest of team Fairweather, I can't say I'm ending the season any physically stronger than I started -- but I am thankful for a body (and mind) that brings our son comfort, and keeps our family together, doing what we love.

 

Though coho salmon season doesn't technically close until September 20th, every day is precarious this time of year. Any given rain storm could signal to these salmon "time to go!" and they'll immediately stop eating, and beeline for the river. It really is like flipping switch.

 

So in the meantime, we'll seize each day, fish, and opportunity that the ocean gives us. The last few weeks have held great days of fishing, slow days of fishing, and everything in between. We are thankful for it all.