Vanessa Castle - We Are River People
As a member of the Lower Elwha Klallam tribe and someone who is working to ensure indigenous voices are central to the restoration of the Klamath River, Vanessa Castle has felt the pain of indigenous people separated from their rivers as well as the joy when dam removals enable their reconnection to those rivers. Both enduring the separation and celebrating the restoration require strength. So, it is unsurprising that Castle’s traditional name is ʔiyə́m̕tən,
which means Strong Woman in her native language.
“They were just waiting for those dams to be removed so they could return to what they had always done”
Vanessa Castle
Castle grew up on her tribe’s reservation along the last three miles of the Elwha River, which flows for 45 miles from the headwaters in the Olympic mountains In Washington State to its mouth at the salt waters of Salish Sea (also called the Strait of Juan De Fuca). Two dams built at the beginning of the 20th century blocked all but 5 miles of the Elwha watershed to salmon and steelhead returning to the river to spawn from the ocean. Thus, despite having fished for salmon and steelhead since time immemorial and having entered treaties with the United States government guaranteeing their right to fish, the tribe’s fishing rights were severed by the dams as completely as the Elwha River itself was severed.
Castle felt the pain of this rupture personally. Her mother and grandmothers were fisherwomen. Unable to catch fish in the river any longer, her mother was forced to shift her fishing to the ocean waters of Salish Sea, precluding her from fishing in the way of their ancestors. In 1992, Castle’s grandmothers traveled to Washington, D.C. to testify before Congress in support of legislation to remove the dams on the Elwha. Thanks to their advocacy and that of other tribal members, the legislation was enacted. It took nearly two more decades of work by the tribe, a coalition of conservation groups, and state and federal natural resources agencies to remove the dams and set the Elwha free. As part of the agreements to bring about the river’s restoration, however, the Lower Elwha Klallam tribe agreed to forego its treaty fishing rights until the salmon and steelhead runs were strong enough to withstand some tribal subsistence fishing. While the Elwha once again flowed freely, the pain of separation from the river remained for tribal members, including Castle. So, she moved away for several years.
Castle worked at several jobs during this time, including as a social worker, helping return indigenous children to tribal homes under the Indian Child Welfare Act. Eventually, she made her way to Standing Rock, on the Lakota reservation in North Dakota, where she joined other indigenous people protesting the Dakota Access pipeline which was threatening tribal land and water. She was arrested during the protests, something Castle declares proudly. After the protests were over, she returned to the Lower Elwha Klallam reservation to reconnect with her family and the river.
”The river was severed by the dams. That means the people were severed too
Castle was hired as a fisheries technician by the tribe’s Department of Natural Resources. For five years, she traversed nearly every mile of the Elwha and its tributaries, conducting spawning sonar, and carcass surveys to assess how the fish were responding in the wake of the dam removals.
As the river healed, healing also began for Castle. Castle caught returning summer steelhead, fish that had not been seen in the river since the dams were built. “They were just waiting for those dams to be removed so they could return to what they had always done,” Castle says. Three years ago, subsistence fishing for the tribe was restored. Castle has caught returning salmon from the Elwha on the tribe’s reservation. Last year, Castle’s six-year-old son , Braven, caught his first salmon, an event caught on video and now shown as part of an exhibit entitled This is Native Land at the Washington State History Museum in Tacoma.
At a symposium held to mark the ten-year anniversary of the Elwha dam removals, Castle grew frustrated listening to glowing descriptions of the river’s recovery with no attention to the pain her tribe endured and continued to endure before the restoration of subsistence fishing. In keeping with her traditional name, Castle stood as a strong woman to object to this omission. Also in attendance were representatives of the Yurok tribe from California, who were there to learn about the Elwha’s restoration in preparation for the restoration of their ancestral river, the Klamath, where four large dams were about to be removed. Castle then was invited to continue meeting with people of the Klamath during the Salmon People gatherings in California. Where she met her new colleagues from Ridges to Riffles Indigenous Conservation Group. Her mission is to ensure that indigenous voices are heard and honored in the restoration of the Klamath River and surrounding lands. “My passion is to uplift tribal voices, the people of the land, Castle says. “The river was severed by the dams. That means the people were severed too.”
”I’m so thankful to be a guest on the Klamath
Castle is careful to point out that, while she can share her experiences from the Elwha restoration, she is learning from the experience of indigenous people along the Klamath. “I’m so thankful to be a guest on the Klamath,” Castle says.
While Castle continues to live on the Lower Elwha Klallam reservation, she travels to the Klamath several times a year. She took her son to see the Klamath dam removals so that he would know what the river looked like when it was trapped behind dams, something he was too young to have seen on the Elwha. This strong woman is making sure her son grows up strong too.
By Bob IrvinRetired President and CEO, American Rivers









