Stocking without protecting: what's the point of producing salmon only to lose them afterwards?

Stocking will never replace natural reproduction. But when certain populations collapse, refusing even to study this tool is not a conservation policy either. Above all, however, we must begin by properly protecting the salmon that are already managing to return naturally to our rivers.

We're going to have to stop talking about stocking as if simply uttering the word will transform our rivers into fish farms. Every time we dare to ask if it isn't time to use incubation, conservation stocking, or some form of temporary assistance for certain struggling populations, we're immediately told that it won't solve the problem at sea. Of course it won't solve the problem at sea. No one in their right mind claims that. But since when do we have to solve 100% of a problem before we have the right to act on the part we can control? While we debate doctrine, management philosophy, and whether human intervention is sufficiently "natural," some of our rivers are counting their salmon by the dozens or even a few hundred. At that level, every spawner counts. Every female counts. Every cohort counts. And every lost year counts even more. I'm not asking that all the rivers in Quebec be stocked like trout ponds. I'm asking that we finally have enough judgment to recognize that between doing nothing and completely artificializing everything, there's a vast area where science, caution, and targeted intervention can work together.

Before sowing seeds, let's begin by protecting those who return.

But before we even talk about stocking, we need to start by addressing the problems we can solve here, right now, in our own rivers . Because we can build all the hatcheries we want, produce all the fry we want, and pour millions into restoration programs: if we can't even properly protect the adult salmon that are already managing to return naturally, we're doing everything wrong. We'll never do better than nature. Our first responsibility should therefore be to ensure that as many returning salmon as possible can spawn naturally and in the best possible conditions . That starts with a proper temperature protocol, not one that waits until the fish are already in distress. I've long been calling for intervention starting at 20°C , with real monitoring of temperatures, flow rates, and the state of the populations. When the water warms up, when flow rates drop, and when salmon concentrate in a few cold areas, we have to know when to stop. Not tomorrow. Not after three days. When conditions become dangerous. Because at that point, continuing to fish simply because the river is still legally open is no longer management: it's the status quo .

We also need to conduct a proper inventory of thermal refuges . We must identify them, map them, protect them, and above all, prevent them from becoming areas where fishing pressure is concentrated precisely because salmon congregate there. When a salmon is seeking a few degrees cooler to survive a warm spell, it's not the time to dangle a fly in front of its nose hundreds of times a day and then claim to be practicing conservation because it's released. A thermal refuge must be a refuge. Period. We must also protect cold-water inlets, tributaries, shaded areas, and riparian zones. Yes, planting trees and restoring riparian zones can help in the long term. Yes, it must be done. But let's be realistic: we won't cool down an entire river next summer by planting a few thousand trees this spring. The major benefits of some interventions will take years, sometimes decades. In the meantime, there are decisions we can make now , without waiting twenty years.

The harvest should also be part of the conversation

I also want us to have the courage to talk about harvesting. When populations are at such low levels, the priority must be to maximize the number of spawners that reach the spawning grounds . This means being able to suspend harvesting, including food, ritual, and social harvesting, when the biological status of a population warrants it, while respecting applicable rights and legal frameworks. Biological conservation, however, doesn't change depending on who's holding the net or the rod. A dead spawning salmon won't spawn. If we truly want to put salmon first, we must be able to sit down together and reduce all preventable mortalities when a population approaches a critical level.

And if we continue fishing certain populations, then let's do it with the most protective rules possible: single barbless hooks, short fights, keeping the fish in the water, minimal handling, no photo shoots, no videos of salmon being tossed in the air to feed social media. At some point, we have to choose what we truly want to protect: the salmon or the culture of salmon photography. I've been fishing long enough to know that you can love fishing and still recognize that there's a time to stop. When the water is too warm, when the fish are concentrated, when the river is low and each fight adds unnecessary stress, a responsible angler should understand that their day is over. It should be obvious. Yet, even today, we too often continue as if everything is fine as long as a regulation doesn't officially prohibit us from casting a fly. That's the free-for-all I'm denouncing. That's it, the status quo I refuse to get used to.

Table 1 — What we can do immediately

Otherwise, what's the point of sowing seeds?

This is precisely where the issue of stocking becomes serious. Because if we don't clean up our act here, what's the point of stocking? What's the point of spending money to produce young salmon if, a few years later, those that manage the miracle of returning to our rivers are still exposed to the same avoidable pressures? We must start by maximizing natural reproduction. Then, if some populations remain so weak that they need a temporary boost, then yes, incubation and conservation stocking can become additional tools. But not tools that allow us to continue exactly as before. Stocking should never become the price we pay to maintain our bad habits. It must come after a genuine reassessment of our management practices.

The Trinity shows us how serious the problem is.

The Trinity River offers a stark lesson that we should face head-on instead of turning a blind eye. It is one of our best monitoring rivers because we can estimate the number of smolts that leave for the sea and then measure how many return as adults. The figures are stark. For smolts that left for the sea in 2020 , the total return rate was 2.55% . For the 2021 cohort, it fell to 0.78% . And for the 2022 smolts, we arrive at a catastrophic 0.16% , the lowest return rate observed in the Trinity monitoring series. [1]

Table 2 — Trinity River: Recent marine survival

Important: The years correspond to the year the smolts leave the river. The provisional rate of 0.43% for the 2024 cohort currently only includes Magdalen smolts returning in 2025. The Dibermarines of this cohort return in 2026.

Figure 1 — Smolt → adult return rate, Trinity River. The 2022 cohort reached only 0.16% , compared to a historical average of approximately 2.02% . Source: MELCCFP. [1]

Think about it carefully: in 2020, 100,000 smolts would have produced approximately 2,550 adults if the same rate had been applied. Two cohorts later, the same 100,000 smolts would have produced only about 160. That's a drop of roughly 94% between the 2020 and 2022 cohorts. This isn't a minor statistical variation that can be glossed over in a report. It's a warning sign. And when you consider that the historical average for Trinidad is around 2.02%, the 0.16% recorded in 2022 demonstrates just how drastically survival after leaving for the sea can plummet.

Table 3 — Theoretically, what 100,000 smolts yield

Figure 2 — Theoretical adults produced per 100,000 smolts based on return rates observed in Trinidad. This graph illustrates the enormous impact of marine survival on the final result. It is not a prediction of a future cohort.

Even 16 adults can count

So yes, we absolutely must understand what's happening at sea. But while we're searching for the answer, what do we do with the populations that are already on their knees? Saying that marine survival is poor doesn't mean that increasing smolt production is necessarily pointless. It means we need to understand the true value of each additional smolt. At the catastrophic rate of 0.16%, 10,000 additional smolts would theoretically represent about 16 additional adults . Does 16 salmon represent a lot on a river where 5,000 return? Perhaps not. But on a population where only 50, 75, or 100 return, sixteen additional adults suddenly take on a whole new significance. This is what some refuse to see when they talk about stocking as an ideological debate. Conservation isn't achieved with universal slogans. It happens river by river, population by population, cohort by cohort .

But be warned: 10,000 fry do not produce 10,000 smolts. This is a crucial distinction. The 0.16% of the Trinity refers to survival from the smolt stage to adulthood. Before that, the fish must survive from egg to fry, from fry to parr, and from parr to smolt. This is why a serious program cannot simply report how many eggs were incubated or how many fry were released. I want to know how many actually become smolts and how many return as adults. Putting 200,000 eggs in a facility is not a success in itself. Neither is producing 150,000 fry. Success is the number of additional breeders that the intervention ultimately adds to the river.

2025: Better, perhaps. Recovered? Certainly not.

The first returns from the cohort that went to sea in 2024 show why we must remain rigorous. Approximately 22,042 smolts left Trinidad in 2024, and 94 grilse were counted upon their return in 2025, representing an initial rate of about 0.43% . [1][2] This is better than the 0.08% observed in the grilse of the 2022 cohort, but it is not yet the final rate. The fish from this cohort that spent two winters at sea will return in 2026. So we wait before declaring a recovery. The same applies to 2023: if the data needed to accurately calculate the rate are not available, we don't fabricate a figure to fill a box. When the data exists, we use it. When it is provisional, we say so. When it is missing, we acknowledge it. That's the kind of rigor I expect from those who speak on behalf of salmon conservation.

That's why I reject both extremes. I reject those who would solve the problem by stocking millions of fish everywhere without considering the consequences. But I equally reject those who answer "no" before even examining the specific situation of the river. Stocking isn't a religion. Nor is it a sin. It's a tool. A tool that can be harmful when used haphazardly and potentially invaluable when used in the right place, at the right time, with the right breeders, and with rigorous scientific monitoring. If a population naturally reaches its conservation thresholds, let's protect its habitat and let it do its work. If a population declines for several years, loses several cohorts, and approaches the point where its reproductive capacity is compromised, then I want us to be able to consider all options. Not in twenty years. Not once the river is practically empty. Before.

Because we can plant trees, restore riverbanks, improve culverts, and repair habitats, and we must do so. But some of these measures take time. A lot of time. What we can do immediately, however, is stop putting unnecessary pressure on the remaining fish. A serious thermal protocol. Closures when conditions demand it. Real protection of thermal refuges. Single barbless hooks. Fish in the water. Minimal handling. Reducing catches when the population can no longer sustain them. And a simple idea that sometimes seems revolutionary: accepting not to fish when we know it's no longer good for the salmon. This isn't killing salmon fishing. It's exactly the opposite. It's trying to ensure that there will still be something to fish in twenty years.

My position is simple: salmon before doctrines. Salmon before habits. Salmon before our need for another photo, video, or catch. We can never do better than nature. So let's start by giving every returning wild salmon the best possible chance to spawn naturally. Then, if some populations still need help, let's use incubation, stocking, or other restoration tools intelligently. But let's do things in the right order. It would be completely absurd to try to create more salmon while we still refuse to properly protect those that nature is already managing to bring back.

While we debate, the salmon doesn't wait.

Salmon above all.

Sources

[1] MELCCFP — Monitoring of Atlantic salmon reference populations in Quebec, 2024 scientific report. Data from the Rivière de la Trinité on smolts and marine return rates. Smolt cohorts: 2020, total return rate of 2.55%; 2021, 0.78%; 2022, 0.16%; historical average, 2.02%. The report identifies the 2022 cohort as having the lowest return rate observed in this series.

[2] MELCCFP — Salmon Exploitation in Quebec — 2025 Report. Government of Quebec, 2026. For the Trinité River: 151 salmon at the run in 2023, 65 in 2024 and 109 in 2025; the 2025 run includes 94 grilse and 15 red eel.

[3] Government of Quebec — Atlantic Salmon Management Plan 2016-2026. Quebec framework for the management of spawning stocks, conservation thresholds and restoration interventions.

[4] North Atlantic Salmon Conservation Organization (NASCO) — Guidelines for Stocking Atlantic Salmon , CNL(24)61, 2024. Recommendations concerning genetic and ecological risks, the use of local broodstock, the temporary nature of interventions and the importance of measurable monitoring.

[5] Gray, RW & Cameron, JD — A Deep-Substrate Streamside Incubation Box for Atlantic Salmon Eggs , The Progressive Fish-Culturist, 49(2), 1987, p. 124-129. Work on the incubation of Atlantic salmon eggs on the riverbank.