Fight or Flight

The Ganaraska River is a river of life or death. At the top lies a still water bed, a natal shrine for the Chinook salmon. Months after birth, the salmon swim to the North Atlantic Ocean, two thousand kilometers away, where they spend the next seven years splashing, playing, plumping up. One day, a homing beacon flips, beckoning them home. Every September, thousands of salmon return to the Ganaraska River.

As soon as they enter fresh water, an ancient power seizes control. Each salmon vehemently slams its tail against the current, propelling itself into the air and landing on the next cascade. Each cascade is like throwing a roundhouse kick. Every mis-timed kick is a blow to the gut. Those that don’t jump high enough get pushed back several meters, sometimes down to lower cascades. How long will this last? Hours? Days? All we know is they have to endure four kilometers. But to them - the end to their suffering - they know nothing.

Pale carcasses of fallen salmon scatter along the river bed. No time to mourn – Keep swimming, keep fighting.

Seen from the top of the shrine, a dark pool of salmon congregates before their final test. They have to jump into a 45 degree sloped tunnel, two feet above the water. One by one, they shoot out of the water like torpedoes. Some straight into the tunnel; others face-first into a concrete slab.

How many make it to the end? Only one or two out of every three thousand. But the ones that do perform one final act: mate.

Bells of liberation ring in the sky as the Chinook salmon float belly up above thousands of unborn eggs.