Coho Salmon Show Signs of Recovery in San Geronimo Valley Tributaries — But the Fight Isn’t Over

For a species teetering on the edge of extinction, every fish counts. That’s the takeaway from this year’s spawning survey in San Geronimo Valley, where SPAWN documented a modest but meaningful uptick in returning coho salmon in San Geronimo tributaries — a sign of hope for a population that has spent decades fighting for survival.

What the Survey Found

The Salmon Protection And Watershed Network (SPAWN) has released its 2026 spawning survey report, covering six tributaries of San Geronimo Creek. Over roughly 3.4 miles of stream, surveyors counted:

• 28 coho redds (nests) and 4 steelhead redds, found in five of the six creeks surveyed
• 30 live coho salmon and 4 live steelhead trout observed directly

Redd counts by creek:

• Arroyo Creek: 12 coho redds, 2 steelhead redds — the most of any tributary
• Woodacre Creek: strong coho numbers, but no steelhead redds this year
• Montezuma Creek: 7 coho redds
• North Fork San Geronimo: 2 coho redds
• Larsen Creek: 1 coho redd
• Willis Evans Creek: no salmonids observed

It’s a small area doing outsized work. San Geronimo Creek’s sub-watershed makes up only about 9 percent of the 103-square-mile Lagunitas Creek Watershed, and the tributaries only a fraction of that– yet in strong years its tributaries have supported as much as half the spawning population within the San Geronimo sub-watershed — and up to 30 percent of all coho redds across the entire Lagunitas Creek Watershed.

A Reason for Hope, Not Complacency

“This year’s survey provides a reason for hope, but not complacency,” said Todd Steiner, founder of SPAWN. “Every returning coho is a remarkable achievement given how perilous their survival remains. The San Geronimo tributaries are small streams, but they can support a remarkably large share of the salmon returning to the Lagunitas Creek watershed. Protecting and restoring these streams is essential to giving coho salmon a future.”

Because coho salmon live for three years and die after spawning, each run represents a distinct “year class.” According to SPAWN, all three year classes have trended upward since the region pulled out of a two-year drought spanning 2018–19 and 2019–20 — a hopeful signal, even if the numbers remain far from historic norms. This year’s spawning run is still well below the strongest showing for this year class, recorded in 2004–05 at 110 fish, and almost certainly a fraction of population levels before coho were listed as an endangered species.

SPAWN is thankful for the majority of Creekside landowners who allow SPAWN onto their property to do the spawning counts.

The Culvert Problem

Much of the story here comes down to infrastructure. Rainfall timing and volume heavily influence spawning success in the tributaries because of undersized road culverts that act as barriers to fish passage. These culverts are often impassable except during brief windows right after significant storms, when water levels happen to be just right for coho to squeeze through. Miss that window, and the fish simply can’t reach the upstream habitat they need to spawn.

That dynamic helps explain this year’s pattern. “It’s not surprising that the highest spawning numbers are in Arroyo and Woodacre Creek, as old culverts have either been replaced or modified into more fish-friendly designs that do not restrict access,” Steiner said. “What is surprising is the tenacity and athletic ability of coho to jump through and swim through the culverts on Montezuma and Larsen Creeks, despite culvert obstacles.”

Habitat loss compounds the problem. Steiner noted that roughly 50 percent of historic spawning habitat has already been eliminated by Marin Municipal Water District dams, making it even more critical to open up and restore what remains in San Geronimo Valley. Without that, coho remain far from the population levels needed to be considered recovered and removed from the state and federal endangered species lists.

A Call to Action

SPAWN’s leadership is now pressing Marin County to reinvest in fixing the remaining barriers. “We urge Marin County to revitalize the San Geronimo culvert replacement program, which started strong with a few good years and appears to have gone dormant about a decade ago, and ensure the Stream Conservation Ordinance is enforced,” said Ken Bouley, executive director of Turtle Island Restoration Network.

Bouley also noted the Stream Conservation Ordinance, passed four years, ago needs to be strictly enforced by the County.

Unfortunately, the overall coho spawning numbers for the Lagunitas Watershed as a whole did not show an increase from three years ago low, diminishing the good news SPAWN found this year in San Geronimo tributaries.

The message from this year’s survey is a familiar one for endangered species recovery: progress is possible, but it’s fragile, and it depends on sustained investment — in this case, in fixing the culverts that stand between coho salmon and the streams they need to survive.

Article written by Communications Intern, Desmond de Jesus. 

Every meaningful movement begins with people deciding that change is possible.

Plastic Free July is no different. What started as a grassroots campaign has grown into a global movement, encouraging millions to rethink their relationship with single-use plastics—not because one reusable water bottle or grocery bag will solve the plastic crisis overnight, but because lasting change happens when communities act together.

It can be easy to look at the scale of plastic pollution and wonder if individual actions matter. After all, what difference does one less plastic bottle or one reusable shopping bag make? There’s a saying that puts this into perspective: “It’s just one bottle,” said seven billion people. If billions of small choices helped create today’s plastic problem, then billions of different choices can help create tomorrow’s solution. Jane Fonda reminds us, “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” Progress depends on millions moving in a similar direction, streamlining a foundational positive mindset, all while adapting and learning each other’s needs.

Plastic Free July is also an opportunity to look beyond daily habits and ask bigger questions about the systems producing so much plastic, and how those systems shape our scope on individuality. For decades, consumers have been misled to believe recycling alone would solve plastic pollution. Yet despite those promises, only a small fraction of plastic waste in the United States is recycled (About 5%), while plastic production continues to increase.

Many of the same industries producing plastic now promote another supposed solution: “chemical recycling,” sometimes called “advanced” or “molecular” recycling. While the name suggests innovation, many of these processes heat plastics into fuels and petrochemical feedstocks rather than creating new recyclable materials. Often, the process still depends on new fossil fuel-based plastic while generating greenhouse gas emissions, toxic waste, and hazardous pollutants. Rather than reducing plastic dependence, these technologies risk extending it, all while pushing an agenda centered around your individualism being the root of their negative impacts.

Progress against these large corporations who pull the strings behind today’s hyper-individualistic society will be defined by communities collectively reducing plastic consumption at its source. Investing in refill and reuse systems, supporting policies that hold polluters accountable, and demanding honest conversations from our leadership about what sustainability truly looks like before more damage is done is of utmost importance to mitigate consequences of plastic pollution that extend far beyond our own communities.

Every year, marine animals encounter plastic debris in the waters they depend on to survive. Sea turtles mistake floating plastic bags for jellyfish, seabirds feed plastic fragments to their chicks, marine mammals become entangled in discarded fishing gear, and microscopic plastics continue to move through ocean food webs in ways scientists are still working to understand. Protecting marine life begins long before plastic reaches the waterways. Check out our Gulf programs to combat marine debris here!

At Turtle Island Restoration Network, this belief guides our daily work; healthy oceans require more than cleanup efforts after the fact. They require preventing pollution before it begins, and advancing policies that prioritize wildlife, coastal communities, and long-term environmental health over short-term industry profits.

Plastic Free July reminds us that our hope is not passive but empowered through a collective consciousness. It grows when neighbors inspire neighbors, when communities organize around shared values, and when people choose to believe that their voices—and their actions—are part of something much larger than just themselves.

No single person will solve the plastic crisis alone, nor are you expected to. But together, we can use our choices, our advocacy, and our willingness to question false solutions to help ensure marine life is ethically monitored and future generations of humanity will inherit a cleaner and healthier Blue-Green planet.

Plastic Free July campaign graphics by Elsie Barcena.

Header photo of a Thick-legged Hover Fly, Syritta pipiens (family Syrphidae) is foraging on a flower of California Buckwheat. Photo credit: May Chen’s Pollinator Posts.  

Article written by SPAWN’s Nursery Manager, Kristen Hopper. 

Ever wonder what to do about that snake under the deck, or the leaf curl on your favorite perennial? When people ask me questions about pests, whether it be un-nerving reptiles, piercing insects or fungal infections, my thoughts usually turn to the idea of Integrated Pest Management. This framework for managing pests in the least toxic way possible begins with observation and monitoring. That is, understanding what you are seeing and deciding what is a tolerable threshold. How many snakes are too many? How much of this piercing insect can I tolerate?

In the larger context of recognizing our home gardens and landscapes as habitat for all of us biological organisms, we begin to see that there are important connections between organisms. Once we can identify the snake as non-venomous, we may decide that its services reducing the mouse population around the home may make it a tolerable addition to an outdoor space. On the other hand, if the home owner has a deep fear of snakes, maybe that garter or gopher snake and its family should be moved on – hopefully somewhere away from the home and possible harms from living close to the road.

As to the piercing insects such as aphids, pull up a chair and spend some time observing them, you will soon see some interesting interactions. Aphids are often tended by ants. The ants act as aphid bodyguards while benefiting from their apparently yummy (to an ant)  excretion known as ‘honeydew’. Watching this weird bit of animal husbandry for a while, you will then begin to notice that there are other insects making the rounds avoiding ant bodyguards and feeding on the aphids. These important predators of aphids (and other insects feeding on plant tissues) are called beneficial insects.

Beneficial insects are important in helping keep plant chomping insects at bay, but they are also in turn part of the food web, eaten by other larger insects or insectivorous birds and small mammals. If say the aphids seem to be getting the upper hand and the infected plant seems to be losing vigor, then choosing a least toxic control method would likely begin with a physical approach (e.g. the use of a garden hose to spray the plump little plant suckers off).

Physical removal to reduce the aphid population will help keep the other beneficial insects in business because there will still be plenty of food for them and you have avoided harming an important part of the ecosystem by choosing not to take control methods to the next level. Deploying chemical controls can have unintended effects. It may provide a reprieve for your favorite perennial but kill off the beneficial insects as well. Of course we need the beneficial insects. To support the beneficials including pollinators it is always important to ask if we can tolerate a bit of plant predation and the company of non-venomous snakes.

If you like the idea of pulling up a chair and watching the busy life of insects, check out May Chen’s Pollinator Posts here! To learn more about gardening for wildlife, dive in to SPAWN’s resources here.

By Stella Little, Communications Intern

Earlier this month, a man intentionally hurled a rock the size of a coconut at an endangered Hawaiian monk seal off the shores of Lahaina, Maui. When confronted by witnesses after the event, he expressed no remorse for his actions, instead boasting that he was rich enough to pay off any fines. Now he faces charges for violating both the Marine Mammal Protection Act and the Endangered Species Act, whose penalties include possible prison time and fines up to $70,000.

The victim “Lani” (as she is known dearly to locals), is one of an estimated 1,600 Monk seals that remain in the wild. Lani has been a frequent visitor to Lahaina’s coast, becoming a symbol of hope and healing to a community devastated by wildfires in 2023, as well as an ambassador for critically endangered species everywhere. 

Lani’s thoughtless attack is an all too common occurrence of human harassment and violence towards wildlife; a concern that in December of 1972 prompted leaders in conservation, science, and policy to pass the Marine Mammal Protection Act (MMPA), which bars attempts to harass, hunt, capture and kill any marine mammal. The act also established a moratorium on the import, export, and sale of any marine mammal, along with any marine mammal part or product within the United States (NOAA Fisheries). 

So why marine mammals and not all ocean species? Marine mammals are uniquely vulnerable to many threats because they have longer gestation periods, so their populations do not easily bounce back from decline. Their migratory patterns also take them through waters that cross political boundaries, leaving them vulnerable to different threats depending on the protections that exist within each country or state. Federal legislation was necessary in the US to allow for safe passage for marine mammals across state lines. 

The creation of the MMPA set the bar for global marine conservation, revolutionary in its ecosystem-level approach to wildlife protection (monitoring ecosystem health as a whole, rather than just the protection of one species). In just over 50 years of its existence, the act has significantly improved endangered sea life populations, including facilitating the recovery of humpback whales, gray whales, and California sea lions (NOAA Fisheries). The Hawaiian monk seals, who were nearly extinct due to hunting in the mid-19th century, have been on a trend of slow, steady, recovery thanks to the MMPA and protections under the state of Hawaii, although their numbers still remain a third of their historic size. 

Violators of the Marine Mammal Protection Act, such as the monk seal’s attacker, face strict regional and federal penalties if caught. These policies enforce the gravity of our conduct towards all living beings. You can’t pick up a rock at the beach and club another human, so why should you be able to pick up a rock and throw it at an animal? 

The reason we have strict penalties for violators of these protections is not just for the marine mammals’ benefit, but for ours as well. Marine mammals keep our ocean ecosystems healthy, supporting all life across the planet. Species such as whales cycle key nutrients from deep waters to surface level through their feeding and diving behaviors, helping to sustain the marine food web. Sea otters play a keystone role in their habitats, preying on urchin populations to maintain kelp forest health. Many of these mammals, like Hawaii’s cherished monk seal, hold great cultural significance in addition to their ecosystem services. 

As humans, we pose the greatest threat to marine mammal survival while simultaneously having the ability to be their greatest advocates. Let’s leave coconut-sized rocks where they lie, and instead raise arms for the protection of endangered animals. Now more than ever, it is essential to make our voices heard advocating for strong policy like the Marine Mammal Protection Act to insure the future of all species. 

Visit our Action Center here to speak up for the ESA, and become a TIRN Member here to stay in the know!

Resources:

• MMC.gov
• NOAA Fisheries: Monk Seal Species
• NOAA Fisheries: MMPA
• NBC News: Tourist Arrested article
• Justice.gov Press Release

By Stella Little, Communications Intern

To me, Earth Day has always been a reminder not to take things for granted. Whether that’s recognizing big things like the air we breathe, the water we drink, and the land we walk upon, or smaller joys like a visit to a local park or a cool dip in the ocean, Earth Day calls us into the present. 

In the same breath, Earth Day urges us to look beyond our day-to-day. Its origins mobilizing millions after the 1969 Santa Barbara oil spill remind us that it’s not just a single day of action, but an invitation to a larger movement. 

At first, this invitation can be an overwhelming letter to receive: “Dear human, please join us in the face of endless obstacles to sustain movement all year round that will foster the long-term changes we wish to see in the world.” At this point you may feel lost as to how you, one person, can impact climate change’s current trajectory. I myself have spent many days in this sorrow, a vastness filled not only with my ecological grief, but a sense of helplessness and loneliness that was just as potent. In time I opened my eyes, I reached out, and I connected, and it brought me to my first lesson: 

Step 1: Remember you are not in this work alone. 

Welcome to the first stage of your activation. By heeding Earth’s invitation, you are joining a network of leaders worldwide fighting for a just, resilient future for all beings. Lean on this community as you embrace all your emotions, fearful and fantastic, because they will fuel your activism fire. Challenges that once felt impossible as an individual, are invigorating and surmountable together. The environmental movement needs every mind, every skillset, and every pair of hands at its disposal. Let’s begin!

Step 2: Consistency > Quantity 

Whether this Earth Day marks years of your dedication and energy, or is just the beginning of your journey, let it be a reminder that your time and engagement matters, no matter how great or small. Sometimes over committing yourself too quickly leads to burnout which can dissuade future action. Seek balance and be mindful of times when you need to take care of yourself – humans need to be sustainable, too! 

Step 3: Speak up and speak out! 

As you nurture your activism, call in your community! Empower yourself and those around you to be Earth Day allies. Share this invitation, and with it your knowledge, your skills, your inspirations. Talk to your neighbors about composting, volunteer to lead an environmental justice workshop, donate to causes you feel strongly about. 

At TIRN, we believe in the power of our collective network. That’s why this Earth Day, we are launching our newest and most accessible membership – “Network Advocate” – an opportunity to join our community and be witness to the incredible impacts we create together.

I know I found my antidote to climate anxiety through action. This Earth Day is a reminder to keep showing up. Let’s accept Earth’s invitation and keep getting our hands dirty, knowing that we are a part of something much greater than any one person: a momentum that will carry forth to future generations, protecting the blue-green planet we all call home.

By Desmond de Jesus, TIRN Communications Intern

With Earth Day coming up, I’ve been reflecting on what it has meant to me, especially as my own path has changed. When I started college at Santa Barbara City College, I planned to study marine biology and pictured a future rooted in environmental work. Back then, environmentalism felt real and concrete—something you could study, measure, and protect.

Earth Day was always part of that journey, but its origins make one thing clear: protecting our blue-green planet was never meant to be passive. In 1970, Gaylord Nelson mobilized millions of Americans not for symbolism, but for action against visible environmental harm. He mobilized 20 million Americans, not because caring about the environment was a trend to be favored by others, but because the damage had become impossible to look away from. A few years before that, Rachel Carson had already done the hard work of telling the truth, forcing everyday people to reckon with something they had been conditioned to ignore.

That movement was birthed from the notion of disruption, not just awareness alone. They challenged the industries, the systems, and the quiet assumptions that had made environmental harm feel like an acceptable cost of modern life.

That perspective challenges how many of us engage with Earth Day now. In my life, it has sometimes looked like beach cleanups or picking up trash after events—actions that matter, but also reflect how easy it is to treat Earth Day as a single, convenient moment to give back.

But Earth Day didn’t start as a defensive gesture—it was an offensive push against the systems causing harm. If history teaches us anything, it’s that awareness was never the finish line—it was always just the door. But if Earth Day represents anything, it’s the idea that awareness is only the starting point. Real impact comes from consistent, sometimes uncomfortable engagement.

What would it look like to not just show up for one day, but to stay involved year-round?

Whether that means supporting organizations like TIRN, joining a member network, or contributing at a level that fits your capacity, the goal is the same: to turn a moment of awareness into sustained action. Earth Day should not just serve as a reminder of our planet’s importance, but as an entry point into something bigger, something ongoing, and something we choose to be part of together.

By Desmond de Jesus, TIRN Communications Intern

Something has shifted in the air—a collective weight that millions of us are carrying at the same time. We feel it at the gas pump and the grocery checkout, in a political climate that grows more volatile by the week, and in the quiet, grinding pressure of trying to build a future in a world that feels increasingly unaffordable, fractured, and environmentally imperiled. That pressure is not imaginary or random—it is the product of systems that prioritize profit over people. It is precisely this reality that has driven people across the country to join the No Kings protests on March 28, a national mobilization that rejects authoritarianism and demands people-powered democracy (No Kings, n.d.-a). That call to action is not just timely, it is necessary.

For many working-class people, this moment feels like survival. Every increase in rent, gas, or food costs forces harder decisions. Stability feels out of reach, and the expectation to keep pushing forward without pause can be exhausting. A quiet burnout is settling in across communities, where people are not just financially strained but emotionally depleted. And the truth is, it is okay to feel that weight. It is okay to feel overwhelmed, to feel frustrated, even to break down under the pressure of trying to keep up in a system that was not built to support everyone equally.

What stands out to me is that this is not just about one protest or one political figure. It is about the deeper reality many of us are living through. Young adults today are being asked to adapt to conditions that feel increasingly unsustainable. The cost of living continues to rise, and when oil and gas prices spike, the effects ripple through nearly every part of daily life, from transportation to food costs to household stability. At the same time, environmental protections are being weakened in favor of industry interests. That contradiction is hard to ignore: ordinary people are told to absorb the costs while powerful institutions continue to profit. Turtle Island Restoration Network’s recent blog post reflects this concern by questioning how political decisions tied to fossil fuel expansion and environmental rollback are shaping the future of the planet (Turtle Island Restoration Network, 2026).

I have also come to understand these issues through my own work with nonprofit and community-centered organizations. I have worked with groups such as the Inland Empire Reading Group for Political Education and Anakbayan USA, organizations that have supported disenfranchised neighboring communities through fundraising, political education, and awareness-raising efforts regarding the threats faced by individuals and families targeted by ICE.

Those experiences made one thing especially clear to me: political disengagement is a luxury that many vulnerable communities do not have. For them, policy is not abstract—it has immediate consequences for safety, stability, and dignity.That is why being politically engaged right now matters so much. The current administration does not represent the needs, values, or material realities of the majority of Americans, and staying silent only allows that disconnect to deepen. The No Kings movement frames this moment as a rejection of repression, cruelty, and corruption, while emphasizing nonviolent collective action to defend democracy and community (No Kings, n.d.-a, n.d.-b). That matters because it reminds us that public participation remains one of our strongest tools.

Still, this moment cannot be sustained by resistance alone; it also requires restoration.

Discernment in this time of urgency is key, stepping back to care for ourselves and reconnect with others is not a weakness—it is necessary. Rest, reflection, and emotional honesty are part of how we sustain long-term change. When people are constantly overwhelmed, disconnected, and exhausted, it becomes harder to show up for causes, for communities, and even for ourselves.

That is why rebuilding connection matters just as much as showing up to protest. Reconnecting with our communities, checking in on one another, and grounding ourselves in shared values of care, dignity, and responsibility allows us to realign with what actually sustains us—not just economically, but ethically and emotionally. Nourishment, in this sense, is not just about food or income—it is about stability, support, and a sense of belonging.

If we want to change society for the better, we have to use the tools available to us now: our voices, our skills, our time, our creativity, and our relationships with one another. For some, that means marching. For others, it means organizing, fundraising, educating, creating media, or supporting the work already being done on the ground. No one person can do everything, but everyone can do something.

To me, that is the deeper meaning of this political moment. We are being pushed to decide whether to continue adapting to a world shaped by fear, inequality, and environmental harm, or to help build something more humane. Rekindling our relationships with ourselves, our communities, and the environment is part of that work. A safer and more inhabitable future will not be handed to us by those in power—it has to be built by people who are willing to show up for one another and refuse to accept injustice as normal.

References:

• No Kings. (n.d.-a). No Kings. https://www.nokings.org/
• No Kings. (n.d.-b). About No Kings. https://www.nokings.org/about-nk
• Turtle Island Restoration Network. (2026). What in the world is Trump doing with our planet?
• https://seaturtles.org/what-in-the-world-is-trump-doing-with-our-planet/

By Stella Little, TIRN Communications Intern

This past month, fifty 5th graders from Mark Day School in southern Marin were welcomed to the SPAWN headquarters for a day of exploration and learning. Led by SPAWN staff and accompanied by teachers and parent chaperones, they were given a comprehensive overview of Turtle Island’s work and the opportunity to explore the beautiful Olema campus. 

Students participated in different activities throughout the morning. Ken Bouley, TIRN’s Executive Director, guided children along the restored flood plain completed by SPAWN off of Lagunitas Creek, where they participated in planting basket sedge along its lower elevations. 

Sierra LeTourneau, our Salmonid Monitoring Intern, presented on the life-cycle of the Pacific salmon, complete with mini models of the species in their various stages of development. The students learned much about a fish they may have formerly only recognized on their dinner plate, including how adult spawners become food for the entire creek ecosystem after they die, supporting the habitat and their descendants for many years to come. 

Students next visited the creekbed with Stella Little, Communications Intern, where they were led through a tree identifying exercise and had the chance to gleefully spot the orange bellies of California newts along the water’s edge. Returning from the creek, students made leaf pressings with paper and beeswax crayons from the trees they’d observed. 

Kristen Hopper, Nursery Manager, worked with the 5th graders to transplant the seedlings of redwoods and woodland strawberries, and as the warm day wore on, their labor was rewarded with a cool spray from the garden hose.

Many curiosities were explored that morning. A contingent of students visiting Mark Day School from South Africa, and courageously rallying against their jet leg to learn about California’s local flora and fauna, wanted to know if there were highly poisonous snakes on the trail. They were assured they were safe with us!

In times such as ours, a little bit of dirt, curiosity, and connection can go a long way in making one feel more whole again. Hopefully, this year will include many more exchanges with bright-eyed 5th graders, and continued opportunities for them to venture into the outdoor classroom!

By Sierra LeTourneau and John Weber

Coho salmon inherently prefer to travel all the way up the watershed into tributaries, small head water streams to spawn. This can be difficult for the species as tributaries are farther upstream than other salmonid spawning sites. The Coho native to Lagunitas watershed, travel through Lagunitas creek up the inkwells that stem into San Geronimo Creek and into the various tributaries that we monitor, most of which require passing through culverts under the roadways (the inkwells are a short cascade segment – like a stair step of pools where San Geronimo creek joins into Lagunitas creek, shown in map below). These culverts were created decades ago with little regard for spawning salmon, mostly having some form of a lip creating an obstacle both to spawning adults and emigrating smolts. These creeks are pictured in our sketched map of San Geronimo creek and its tributaries. 

Sketched Map of San Geronimo Creek and its Tributaries

The broken portion of the maps indicate seasonality of the tributaries.

Coho, though a more charismatic species, are on the endangered species list. Most concern for their endangered status originates from the degradation of their freshwater habitat. Marin is home to the largest population of historic Central California Coho, SPAWN is one of the organizations that monitors this region’s spawning activity, in collaboration with Marin Water and the National Park Service.

From its inception, SPAWN has worked to improve habitat through various restoration projects to encourage the increase in spawning activity and subsequently the Coho salmon population. Originally neglected, the San Geronimo tributaries have only been surveyed since 1997, since SPAWN has started monitoring them. Below is a graph that shows the amount of redds in San Geronimo creek and the tributaries, additionally included is a graph representing the percentage of redds observed in the tributaries specifically. This historically sits around 40% of the total redds counted. From our current findings this season we have identified 28 Coho redds throughout our tributary system. The numbers from the San Geronimo Creek have not yet been independently reported.

Historical Coho Spawning Data

The Coho life cycle in total is about 3 years; they spend around 9 to 12 months where they are spawned in the freshwater ecosystem, then go out to the ocean for 18 months to utilize the food and nutrients of the ocean and grow into mature adults, before they return to their nesting grounds to spawn and shortly after die. The life cycle of anadromous fish allows for nutrients that are carried out of the freshwater ecosystem and  into the ocean to be replenished once the previously ocean bound fish return and die. Which is vital for the entirety of the ecosystem supported by the creek. 

Aside from the expected adult female and adult male Coho, there is a third category of fish that returns for the spawning season, called a “jack” A jack is a juvenile male, every spawning season some of the salmon come back prematurely, mostly males, though jills have been sighted before. Their reason for their premature return is not always clear and can include factors such as genetic predisposition or faster growth due to a successful season at sea. Below we have charts indicating our Coho sightings broken down into individual creeks. You’ll notice from our numbers we did see a couple jacks this season!

As the season matures and spawning activity reduces, we plan to further analyze our results and historical data with hopes of learning more about spawning trends and factors that influence a successful spawning season in our tributaries. We are interested in further investigating the impact culverts place on spawning and successful smolt emigration and looking into rain events, and the impact of their presence or absence. Ideally we can use our findings to improve our restoration efforts moving forward. 

Pictures of Salmonid Monitoring featuring volunteer, John Weber (left) and (right) Montezuma Creek; Jack pictured above the female. Decay of back fin from digging identifies the larger Coho as female.