Russian Mission Elder Alexandra Quak-aq Kozevnikoff said that she was prepared to face another season of total salmon fishing closures on the lower Yukon River.
Then the announcement came at the end of June: enough summer chum salmon had made their way back to the river. For the first time in two years, Yukon River communities would have a shot at putting some of the fish up in their smokehouses.
But to do that, families like Kozevnikoff’s aren’t allowed to unfurl their gill nets. The need to protect ailing chinook salmon stocks has left subsistence users with limited options, known as “alternative gear.”
On the lower river, dip nets have emerged as the most popular – an anomaly for areas where the nets have little historical precedent. The broad hoops are lowered down on lines to reach summer chum swimming in deep water.
Kozevnikoff said that the small opportunity holds huge significance for her.
KYUK’s Evan Erickson caught up with Kozevnikoff in Bethel to speak about the rare chance to harvest local salmon.
This interview has been edited for length and clarity.
Kozevnikoff: I'm here to say that this year, in our village, we had [an] opening of summer chum, and that's lasting until the 17th of [July]. We are so happy to do that. Our fish camps were looking so bare and pitiful. Even my own fish camp, when I passed it, I said, "Poor. Look at that camp, no life in it.”
Before this became open, I was going to go on my phone and listen to a fishing report and say something to please open us up for a little while. Even if we get 10 fish, it'll be good enough for us. But when I opened the radio and listened, brace myself to … my mind wasn't very happy and I was not feeling good about not fishing again. I heard something, and I said, "Wait a minute, you kids, listen! Help me listen to the announcement right now." And we all heard it that [fishing districts] Y1, Y2, and Y3 will be open for dip net fishing. I told the boys and the kids, my family members to go out, get ready their nets, go out on the river at 6 o'clock. You can throw them down and see how many you get.
We got down there the very first time, Mark, my son said, "Mom, are you coming?” I said, "Yeah. Are you going out now? He said, "Yes, we're waiting. All of them said, "We're waiting on you.” So I stood up and, I just grabbed my coat, and I'll be following you guys out. And my son goes, “Where's your uluaq, your cutting knives.” [I] got on the four-wheeler and I told my son, “This is how much we never fish. And I just was gonna go out with my coat.” They were laughing at me.
When we got there, there was the fish. We got to the camp. There was a little tote there filled. They go, “Ma, look. Ma, look. Fish, fish.” “Oh, good!” We all said a little prayer, and then I went back and I went to the tables. The cutting tables were there, but they were already occupied with my grandchildren. And one of them quietly said, "Ma, I forgot which way we go.” I said, "Oh, okay. Let me show you. So I show them. “They go this way, go around the gill, cut it here, and then open the front. The tummy, clean the inside, and put it to another place where they’ll clean it. “Oh, now we got it, yeah, we got it,” [they said].
I had no cutting things, so I went back to the camp, and I sat and I watched. And when we were getting hungry, I said, "Who will make tea?” And they said, "We have no equipment, Mama. No pots, no pans.” “Okay, let's throw fish, filet fish on the fire, and we'll all have some.” So we did that. Man, that tasted so good.
But when I ate my fish, I could feel that tingling from my stomach come out like [a] little quiver all the way around my body, even to the top of my head, and a big sigh of relief saying, "This is the fish I want to taste for years. I want to taste our Yukon fish. This is how they taste.” And before that, [a] doctor was here, [and] I went to her for my ailing body, and they're wondering how come the Native people are getting sick, more sickly. Right away, it came to my head that you know why, because we never eat our own Native food. My Native food, my first food that was given to me to nourish my body was the fish and the liver. Those were given to me. My parents didn't have baby food to feed me. Those are my food. Those are the ones that keep me healthy and normal. Now, we don't have that. We're getting weak and sick, but now I'm getting healthy.
KYUK (Evan Erickson): Are you really feeling more healthy since the last week and a half?
Kozevnikoff: Yeah, I can feel the strength coming to me. I could feel my strength coming back to me because we always know that there's lots of good stuff in the fish, bones and all, because we eat the whole fish. Those are my nurtures, and they help our body. When I go home […] they're still fishing, so when I go home, I want to go out and try to watch my grandchildren get that fish out of the water. But I see them, and the river looks happy. Our river is noisy with the boats or the dipping. Full of happiness. People aren't just staying at home. They're doing stuff. They're working again. Families are in camp working together again.
KYUK: What is your hope for the rest of this season and for next season?
Kozevnikoff: I hope that we start back again. Maybe this is the beginning of starting to … maybe we'll start to put our nets out, maybe. And I'm hoping [...] the fish come better and better every year.
KYUK: Do you have any words for people that are upriver and way upriver, any thoughts about all the communities?
Kozevnikoff: I hope the whole, whole river and the communities of the whole river work together and take things as they come. But please don't take it away from us again entirely. You know, zeroed out. I want us to have a little, little bit of our own Native food and from our own Native area.
