As we reported here Dennis Hinton, longtime volunteer with the Fauntleroy Watershed Council has been working with Council Project Manager, Judy Pickens, on overseeing the spawning coho salmon in Fauntleroy Creek this time of year.

Hinton, whose daughter Lori is a West Seattle Herald contributor and author of "West Seattle 101," would like to share his story with West Seattle Herald readers:

MY FACINATION WITH THE COHO RETURNING
TO SPAWN AT FAUNTLEROY CREEK
By Dennis Hinton
November 16, 2009

Several days ago a reporter from the West Seattle Herald asked me why I am so passionate about salmon returning to our little Fauntleroy Creek. I did not have a very good answer for him, but it got me to thinking.

In the big picture, I think it is an absolute miracle that they return at all. And proof that miracles can happen---for me a source of inspiration for overcoming long odds. When salmon mate and lay eggs in the creek, those eggs become fry, which can stay in the fresh water of the creek for nearly a year.

Then they head down the creek to the salt. Only 1 to 2% ever make it back to their native stream. They can hang around the mouth in Fauntleroy Cove for a while, growing from smolt to adult. From there they may just circulate around Puget Sound (called residents) or head for the ocean---venturing as far as the Gulf of Alaska, like 2,000 miles away. No one knows for sure.

Think of what they have to overcome on the way---and the way back. Predators like birds, bigger fish, orcas, seals. Then there’s wildly varying climate and ocean conditions, floods, droughts, pollution, nets, fishers and disease.

Typically, three years later (sometimes two, for small jack salmon), the survivors journey back to their native creek. Why? Some say instinct calls Coho back to the smell of their birthplace, although hatchery fish have come up to spawn here as well. Some say it’s sex. Who really knows? Maybe it is the Call to the Salmon drumming and chanting event at the overlook. I believe it is more than science.

Once they’ve returned to the mouth of Fauntleroy Creek, they still need the 12-foot tides of November, a low barometer and rains to make the final push upstream. Even then, river otters and raccoons can end their quest. In the spawning stage the female Coho will dig out a nest (called a redd) with her tail and lay several hundred eggs. A suitable male accepted by the female (there’s competition, can be lots of fights) will then fertilize the eggs. Eggs are then covered by a thin layer of gravel. Even then flood waters could wash away the eggs.

I have been a fish watcher at Fauntleroy Creek for 10 years. In those years, the highest count was 220, the lowest two. So far this year 18 Coho spawners have been counted in Fauntleroy Creek. Whatever the number, imagine what these Coho have overcome to get back here.

That’s why I believe in miracles.