The Cry of the Salmon - A History of our Betrayal

To understand the salmon's modern crisis, we must look backward to a time when its numbers were so staggering they were a fact of everyday life, not a conservation project. The Atlantic salmon was not merely a fish; it was a pillar of the ecosystem, a cultural icon, and a source of sustenance that shaped societies. Its demise is a testament to human determination, not to save it, but to consume it into oblivion. 

For centuries, the rivers of Europe, from the smallest streams in England to the great waterways of France and Germany, were highways for an unimaginable biomass of juvenile salmon. The ocean ecosystem relied on this colossal output. Think of the millions upon millions of salmon smolts, a silvery, shimmering feast for larger fish, birds, and marine mammals. This was the "normal" situation. Today, that number has collapsed, a ghost of its former self, representing a pitiful fraction of that historical abundance. The ripple effect of this loss, in both freshwater and marine environments, is a void we are only beginning to comprehend. 

Spey Superintendent Jimmy Grey on his retirment, with myself and Phones Ghillie, Sandy Smith

The historical accounts are chillingly prescient. As early as the 1860s, the great writer Charles Dickens sounded an alarm. In his works, he spoke of the once-plentiful salmon becoming "extinct" from English rivers—a prophecy that would tragically come true in many places. The Industrial Revolution had begun its grim work, and with it, the relentless persecution of the species intensified. Historical records show salmon fry and parr were not just a food source but a commodity, harvested by the bushel to be sold as "sprats" or even used as fertiliser, such was their abundance. This was not a local practice; it reflected a mindset that saw the natural world as an endless resource for human exploitation. The stories of my youth, of people catching dozens of juvenile sea trout in an evening to dig into their rose beds, were not isolated anecdotes—they were the dying echo of a destructive tradition that had been commonplace for generations. 

The salmon's resilience was built on abundance, on the sheer power of its numbers. Once this biomass dropped below a critical threshold, the doom of the population was sealed. This pattern is not theoretical; it is etched into the history of nearly every European country. In the 18th and 19th centuries, salmon were so prolific in Spain, France, and Germany that they were a significant part of the culture. They were the food of the serf, so common that apprentices famously demanded contracts specifying they wouldn’t be fed salmon more than a few times a week. Yet, within two generations of Europeans, this culturally important fish became nothing more than a memory. It was no longer politically important; thus, the species lost its once powerful voice. Think of present-day Scotland and how important the iconic King of Fish now is to the everyday Scot? More than anything else, this has sealed its fate.  

The causes have all been man-made, a relentless assault on the species from all angles: 

• Dams and Pollution - The Industrial Revolution brought with it impassable dams and poisoned rivers, suffocating the salmon's lifecycle. 

• Water Abstraction - As populations grew, so did the need for water, diverting essential river flow and leaving salmon stranded. 

• Over-Exploitation - As the salmon became scarcer, its value rose. It transitioned from the food of the poor to a luxury item, making it an even more desirable target for netting and poaching. The last salmon caught in London's River Thames in the 1820s was bought by the King for a Guinea per pound—a stark illustration of this shift. 

• Decreasing Political Support 

Today, we are left with a legacy of well-intentioned but often misguided conservation efforts. The discussion is filled with talk of beavers and tree planting, while the historical causes—the dams, the pollution, abstraction, over population and relentless over-exploitation, still, are allowed to persist. We spend vast resources on finding "answers" that have been staring us in the face for centuries. The truth is that the king of fish has been demoted in the public consciousness. To the average person, it is a wild, iconic creature of the river, that jumps out of the river arriving in the Supermarket as a cellophane-wrapped fillet. This is the sad reality. No amount of stocking or localised protection can reverse the tide of history. We are watching the final act of a slow-motion extinction [certainly commercially] that began hundreds of years ago, a story of man's fatal determination to exterminate a species that was, for a time, a symbol of everything wild and abundant. 

The Unthinkable Question - Will the Salmon Ever Go Extinct? 

Given the stark historical data and the current state of Europe's rivers, a critical question hangs in the air - Will the Atlantic salmon ever truly disappear? 

The short answer is likely no. Despite centuries of human pressure, salmon populations have shown a remarkable resilience. Even in rivers across France, Spain, and Germany where they were once abundant and are now functionally absent from a commercial standpoint, a few fish still manage to survive. This suggests that even at incredibly low numbers, the species can cling to existence. 

However, this is not a cause for celebration. We have successfully decimated the salmon as a natural food source. The historical biomass of juveniles leaving Europe’s rivers—once incalculably vast—is now estimated at only 1-2% of what it once was. The salmon has gone from a culturally important, staple diet of millions, to something only valuable as a sport fishery. How sad is this.? The most amazing source of protein, extremely healthy, to a plaything. However, without this sport fishery we may already have none.  

But for how long can this last?  

The story of England's River Tyne offers a glimmer of hope. In the mid-20th century, the Tyne was a polluted, lifeless river, and its once-prolific salmon run was commercially extinct. Through a concerted effort to clean up pollutants and a well-managed hatchery program to mitigate the loss of natural spawning habitat, the river was reborn. The salmon run, which had dwindled to nothing, rebounded so dramatically that the Tyne became England's top salmon sport fishing river, with adult numbers topping 6000 salmon caught by rod and line. A far cry from the 130,000 present in that river during pre-industrial times, but nevertheless, something positive with the potential to provide many rural jobs and lots of tourism income.  

This success story proves a vital point; with the right management and a genuine commitment to conservation, we can bring salmon populations back to levels that are viable as sport fisheries. While we will never see the incomprehensible numbers of salmon that existed before the Industrial Revolution, we can restore them to many rivers that are now devoid of the species. The byproduct of such a monumental effort would be a significant increase in the number of juvenile salmon returning to the sea, a small but crucial step toward restoring the balance we so carelessly disrupted.  

The Atlantic salmon isn't just a fish for kings and lords; it's the fish of the people. Its story isn't one of luxury, but of survival—a tale that belongs to all of us. For generations, this iconic creature has been a symbol of our shared rivers and our shared heritage. But we've allowed that story to fade, just as it has in so many other parts of Europe. 

It's time to remember who the salmon truly belongs to. We have failed this magnificent creature. We have polluted its waters, blocked its paths, and pushed it to the brink of extinction. Now, in its hour of greatest need, it is our duty to act. The fate of the Atlantic salmon rests not in the hands of a few, but in the hearts of us all. Let's reclaim its story and give this king of the waters the chance it deserves to reclaim its home.