LOWER RUSSIAN LAKE -- What the heck's a weir, anyway?
"It's French for fence," explained Alaska Department of Fish and Game Area Management Biologist Robert Begich.
Put simply, the fish weirs used by the department are typically long aluminum dam-like grates that extend the width of a river or creek to impede fish passage. Salmon migrating upstream to spawn are trapped behind the structure, which includes a small door through which technicians can allow fish to move through one at a time. This lets workers click off each fish on hand counters as the salmon pass.
Because individual fish can be counted, measured and observed for species and sex, the weirs give the department an extremely clear picture of what's happening with Alaska salmon runs. Although Fish and Game also uses sonar to count fish on large rivers such as the Kenai, Begich said the department's ability to enumerate salmon runs would be almost nil without the weirs.
"We wouldn't have it without them," he said.
Although the concept of a weir is rather simple, the operation of the structures requires constant attention. At the weir across Lower Russian Lake where it empties into the Russian River, two Fish and Game employees spend the summer staffing a log cabin next to the clear lake nestled in the Kenai Mountains. The technicians make several fish counts each day, and once a week they take scale samples from individual fish and do a survey of age, sex and length of the returning fish.
Technician Tom Rhyner explained that as the fish move upstream, they begin to stack up against the weir, bumping into the aluminum fencing with a pinging sound. If there's a lot of fish hitting the structure it can make quite a racket.
"If there's 3,000 fish in there they'll wake me up," said Rhyner, who has been working at the Russian River weir for 15 summers.
Rhyner – who constantly carries both a shotgun and bear spray while working – said the fish come in spurts. Sometimes there's thousands of fish waiting to pass through the structure while other days it's slow. Whether fish move upstream can be affected by a number of factors, including how high the water level is downstream at the Russian River Falls and whether or not there's been a moose or bear standing in the water.
"They're kind of finicky," he explained.
The weir goes in each spring, and fish counting begins June 5. In addition to counting fish, technicians also record the water level in the lake each day. If the water gets too high, the department will open a fish pass alongside the falls that allows salmon to get upstream more easily.
After 15 seasons of counting fish, Rhyner has seen some interesting fish behavior. He's watched salmon with as many as four fish hooks in their backs move through, and he's seen eyeless salmon migrate upstream with some help from their friends.
"The other ones will help the blind ones sometimes, they'll flick them with their tails," he said.
Each morning at 9 a.m., technicians call Fish and Game's office in Soldotna with a sideband radio to pass along fish count data. That data is then put online, where the public can see how the run is progressing. As of June 14, 3,319 sockeye salmon had been counted with the bulk of the run expected to arrive in the next couple weeks. There's an early run and late run on the Russian, with a cut-off date of July 15. The department's escapement goal for the early run is 22,000 to 42,000 fish.
The department operates some 40 weirs across the state, including structures at the Russian, Crooked Creek, and the Ninilchik and Anchor Rivers. Begich said they're extremely useful tools because they give the most accurate count possible.
Before fish weirs, biologists or technicians would stand atop high towers to watch fish move upstream. On the Russian, those towers were used 1962-68. In 1969, the cabin was built and the first weir was installed.
Other than counting fish, weir workers must also keep a wary eye on the wildlife. The weir at the Russian River includes an electric fence that deters bears, but bruins still stop by frequently to check things out. Over the years Rhyner said he's had plenty of bear encounters, including one brown bear that woke him up by peering into the window beside Rhyner's bunk. He now blocks off that area with a couple saw horses. There's also a porcupine or two that cause trouble, gnawing on the outside of the facility's outhouse and gas storage buildings.
"I think they like the stain," he said.
Rhyner said the job is rewarding because he's able to work outside all summer. An avid outdoorsman, he and his wife have spent the past couple autumns hiking the Appalachain Trail – where he earned the moniker "Weir Man."
"I'd say about one person in 10 knew what a weir was," he said.
The weir is located a short hike from the Russian River Falls trail, one of the most scenic in Alaska. Just up the lake from the cabin, there's a view of the lake that stretches all the way to Skilak Glacier.
Standing in the bright sunshine of an unseasonably warm June day, Rhyner said the job of being a human fish counter is about as good as it gets.
"On days like this, it's pretty hard to beat."
Contact Matt Tunseth at 257-4335 or mtunseth@alaskadispatch.com