OCTOBER 2025

The Beauty of One Dead Fish

By Gerald Shaffer — Founder, West Coast Wildlife

I came across a dead salmon today on the beach.
Two feet of silver and crimson, curved softly in the sand. Some might see decay. I saw proof of life.

Because if the death of a salmon has reached the shore, then life in the ocean must be thriving. For every fish that completes its journey home to spawn, hundreds more have followed the scent of rivers and the pull of the moon. A carcass on the beach means the run was strong enough to send scouts inland, strong enough for eagles and bears to feed, strong enough that the tide can carry a few bodies back to us as a reminder that the system still works.

This one was a good-looking fish — thick through the middle, scales still bright. Probably a sockeye. And what it represents is more than a single life ending; it’s the renewal of the cycle we almost lost.

Thanks to the relentless work of scientists and advocates like Alexandra Morton, the coast is breathing again. Salmon farms have closed. Rivers once choked with parasites and waste are clearing. Orcas and humpbacks are returning in numbers I haven’t seen in decades. You can feel it when you stand near a spawning stream — the hum of life returning.

Out here, death is never the end. It’s nourishment. Eagles will lift from the trees. Crabs and gulls will finish what the tide began. The salmon’s body will feed the forest that shades the next generation of fry.

So when I find one dead fish on the beach, I don’t mourn it. I celebrate it. Because it means the run came home. It means the river is still alive enough to call them back.

And that’s the beauty of one dead fish.

West Coast Wildlife — Advocating for the Wild