By Pat Hoglund

Leaning against the rail of a makeshift purse seiner, Joe Peone is confident and calm as if he knows what is about to happen. Looking back on the Columbia River, Peone watches a 750-foot net that's being stretched across the mouth of the Okanogan River. The white corks that keep the net from sinking are lined up in a row like fallen dominoes. In all likelihood when the net is drawn tight it will contain salmon. How many? Peone doesn't know but he's confident the set will yield something. For the past 20 days the 27-foot Dream Catcher and its three-person crew have regularly netted sockeye and chinook salmon as they migrate up the Columbia River. Today shouldn't be any different.

As the Director of Fish and Wildlife for the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation in Washington state, Peone is the lead biologist on this test fishery that's taken place the past two summers. He's also one of a dozen people aboard Dream Catcher, a research boat used by the Colville Tribes to purse seine salmon. It's mid-August and the soaring temperatures are in the 80s. Aboard are local politicians, biologists, members from the Colville Tribes, one media representative (Salmon & Steelhead Journal), commissioners from Washington's Department of Fish and Wildlife and the guest of honor, Congressman Norm Dicks from Washington state's 6th congressional district. From all appearances it is your classic dog and pony show. Media. Politicians. Commissioners. Biologists. Tribal members. Glad-handing. Photo opps.

When you pull back the layers of political posturing, it is more than just a staged event. It is an opportunity for the Colvilles to demonstrate to Dicks how they selectively harvest salmon with the use of an age-old commercial fishing tool: the purse seine net.

Used for centuries throughout the world, purse seining is a simple, yet effective method at harvesting fish. The net has weighted rings on the bottom and buoyant corks on the top. The 8-foot deep net is pulled from the purse seiner by a chase boat that circles the target area. In this case, the target area is at mouth of the Okanogan River. Once the chase boat surrounds the area the seiner pulls the net tight eventually creating an enclosed bag around the fish. The net is then lifted on board and the targeted fish are placed into holding boxes.

Instead of collecting everything in the net, as is the case with most purse seine operations, the Colvilles carefully separate the hatchery and wild fish. Crew members use long-handled dip nets to scoop up the unmarked wild salmon where they're released without ever leaving the water. If there is an adipose fin-clipped hatchery fish in the net, it is pulled aboard the larger boat and placed into a tub. It is a time consuming process, but one that's extremely effective. It is the most effective method known today to selectively harvest hatchery fish, at the same time allowing for the release of wild fish.

"When I heard this was being done I thought this was a model for the rest of the state and the rest of the region," Dicks told those assembled.

In today's world of salmon management 'selective harvest' is the buzzword. It's a term that everyone in the sport, tribal and commercial fishing industry is familiar with, but unfortunately not everyone practices the concept. Sport fishermen have led the charge in this arena. Throughout most parts of the West, sport fishermen release wild salmon and steelhead and are allowed to retain only hatchery fish. By practicing catch and release, sport fishermen are selectively harvesting only hatchery fish — those that have had their adipose fin removed in the hatchery.

Only a handful of Native American tribes voluntarily practice selective harvest, which is the case with the Colvilles. Voluntarily is the key word. Through their reserved fishing rights they could legally harvest wild fish and hatchery fish, much like the tribes do on the lower Columbia and in places like the Olympic Peninsula in Washington state. Instead they chose to lead.

"Someone has to take the first step," says Peone. "Why shouldn't it be us?"

The first step came four years ago when he first proposed his idea to the Bonneville Power Administration. According to Peone, BPA liked his idea, but it never ranked high enough to receive funding. He then presented his concept to the Confederated Tribes of the Colville Reservation business council where it was met with skepticism.

"It took some convincing," says Michael Finley, chairman of the Colville tribal business council. "We had a lot of questions."

For starters, how was he planning to get a purse seiner at the mouth of the Okanogan River? A typical purse seiner boat can be as long at 85 feet, too big to be hauled to eastern Washington. Second, who would skipper it? Purse seine captains aren't readily available in towns like Omak, Brewster and Okanogan. And finally, how did Peone know seining would work here? Peone did his homework and worked out the details and came back to the tribal business council with answers.

"In the end Joe convinced us it would work and we've been very pleased with the results so far," adds Finley.

The Colvilles purchased a 27-foot gillnet boat previously used on the lower Columbia. They hired John McKinley to skipper the boat. Using McKinley's knowledge (he fished commercially for 15 years in Alaska), the boat was retrofitted with a boom, and all the necessary nets. In effect they created a mini version of those massive purse seiners used in the Gulf of Alaska. It was small enough that it could be transported on a trailer, yet large enough to collect upwards of 500 salmon in a single set. Once the preliminary work was done there was one important question that needed to be addressed: would the fish survive the rigors of this style of fishing?

"We were real hesitant at first because we didn't know how the fish would respond," admits Peone.

In tests conducted by the Colville Tribes in 2008 there was a 100 percent direct survival rate of wild salmon released from a beach seine net, and a 99.9 percent survival rate of wild salmon released from a purse seine net (the Tribes are achieving the same high results in 2009).

"We were quite pleased the mortality rate is so low," says Peone.

Tangle nets had an 80 percent direct survival rate. With a survival rate of 20 percent higher it's no surprise that purse seining is now looked upon as a way to ensure the Tribes' ceremonial and subsistence harvest, and allow for escapement of wild salmon, or those fish listed under the Endangered Species Act.

"We were looking for a way to manage the stocks long term and at the same time harvest fish when the endangered species were present," Peone says.

Therein lies one of the biggest problems with salmon management today. Because many stocks of salmon are listed as threatened or endangered under the Endangered Species Act consideration must be given when fish managers set seasons and catch quotas. That is especially true when healthy stocks of fish overlap runs listed under the ESA. For example, during the Columbia River's spring chinook run there is a specific formula on how many fish can be harvested and when fishing is permissible. Depending on run forecasts only a specific number of salmon can be harvested to allocate for salmon returning to the Snake River and its tributaries. It becomes a nightmare for all parties involved. Both sport and commercial fishing seasons are shortened and quotas are cut to take into account the ESA. If a system like this were in operation on the lower Columbia, for example, it would eliminate many of the problems fishermen now face.

One would think it would be easy for the states to simply implement selective harvest practices with a simple vote by fish and wildlife commissioners. If only it was that easy. In order for the states to require such regulations, laws have to change at the state level. Given the nature of the commercial fishing industry and its lobbying efforts, change does not come easy. At this point it is illegal to commercially harvest salmon on the Columbia with anything but gillnets. Fortunately, there is movement to change those laws. Groups like the Coastal Conservation Association have been instrumental in making sure that has happened. For example, in the most recent legislative sessions in Washington and Oregon, lobbyists for CCA helped earmark $400,000 in federal funding for a one-year study to test the effectiveness of floating traps, beach seines and a purse seine test fishery. And were it not for the likes of Congressman Dicks this legislation never would've made it out of committee.

Using the same equipment as the Colvilles used on the upper river, tests were conducted throughout September on the lower Columbia below Bonneville Dam. The data haven't been finalized as this issue went to press, however preliminary indications show it was an equal success.

Using the lower river test fishery, as well as what the Colvilles accomplished the past two years, sport fishermen are hopeful that these simple acts will set in motion what many believe to be the beginning of change in how salmon are managed in the Pacific Northwest.

Water from the Okanogan River in August is hotter than the Columbia, which hovers at nearly 70 degrees. Salmon—both Chinook and sockeye—find refuge in the cooler Columbia River water and stage off the Okanogan mouth for short periods of time. The Okanogan River empties into the Columbia near the town of Brewster, Wash. This past summer the salmon run was especially strong. Over 150,000 sockeye returned to the upper Columbia tributaries including the Okanogan River. The summer chinook run peaked at 55,000 with most destined for tributaries like the Okanogan. If a skipper times it correctly he can find plenty of salmon here and that is exactly what McKinley is hoping for. As the black mesh net is slowly played out behind the boat anticipation is high. Both Peone and McKinley are hoping that salmon are in the net when it's drawn tight. Peone is quietly confident. McKinley isn't so sure.

Dicks, who spent two summers working on an Alaska purse seiner while he was in college, is asked to help coil the rope into a large bucket. The 67-year-old congressman steps in and performs the coiling task while McKinley begins to tighten the net's circle. Even though this set is for demonstration purposes McKinley is afraid it will be a "water haul."

"I'm afraid there might not be fish around," he says.

Dicks , meanwhile, isn't overly concerned with the day's results. "This is just to show us how it's done," he assures McKinley.

Peone, meanwhile, remains calm and cool. Deep down he knows. As the net draws tighter and the circle becomes small it's clear that the set is a success. There are several salmon in the net, including wild and hatchery fish. Relieved, McKinley places his long-handled net into the seine net and scoops up a wild chinook. It is then lifted over the corks and released back into the Columbia River. McKinley has his eye on the hatchery chinook in the net. His dip net scoops up a 30-pound summer chinook that is missing its adipose fin. It is hauled aboard and after a sharp hit on its head, Peone hands it to Dicks for a photo opp. The congressman holds it up and like paparazzi chasing a star; the camera flashes light up the muted silver colored salmon. When the last photo is taken the congressman places the salmon into a cooler of ice. The moment is not lost on Dicks.

"What we just witnessed," he says, "is a perfect example of selective harvest. We released the wild fish, and kept the hatchery fish."

While the ESA has proven to be a formidable hurdle for most everyone involved in salmon management, it's viewed as a mere detour by the Colville Tribes. For that they need to be applauded for their efforts. Moreover, they have a proven track record of leading the charge in fish conservation management.

"I think people will follow in time," says Peone. "We're not guilting anyone into it. We're just putting the science on the table. What others choose to do with it is up to them."