The last chapter told of how as fish began to dwindle and there became more fishing effort on the river with commercial as well as sport fishermen took a larger and larger portion of the fish the state of Washington sought to regulate the Indian fishing on the river.
The battle went to the courts after Indian fisherman after Indian fisherman was jailed for regulation violations. The courts decided to give the authority to regulate the Indians fishing on the river and commercial fishing leaders pushed to have the treaty broken.
As pressure built, Indians families began fishing after dark, many times as husbands and fathers sat in jail. Nets were seized and fights erupted along the rivers.
Now as chapter five picks up, it is the mid-sixties and the fish wars are more and more publicized and the arrests continue and even become more prevalent. The issue of fishing rights are continually in the courts. Hank Adams, a closer friend of Billy Franks takes up the cause of fishing rights and the Washington Indians.
Then, the tribes happens upon Marlon Brando, who would bring his celebrity and the media with him as he stood with the Indians in the fight.
Chapter Five | Renegades
In January 1964, the threat of snow and rain loomed as Billy and treaty fishermen gathered on the banks of the Nisqually River at Frank’s Landing. They dug in their heels and craned their necks, eyeing a white flag of truce at the top of a pole. It once signaled a brief respite in the fishing wars.
But on this winter day, peace eroded and battle lines were redrawn between the state of Washington and Indian fishermen at the Landing. The Native American activists returned to the river in a show of protest. Bolstered by a recent state Supreme Court decision, Pierce County prohibited nets in the Nisqually River. “We are certain the Indians will not continue fishing after receiving copies of the restraining order,” Walter Neubrech of the Game Department said confidently, after the state secured the order.
But the fishers were not dissuaded. Still they would cast their nets and would risk personal freedom to fish. They lowered the white flag of truce and unfurled the American flag—a flag of pride they called it—and watched it snake its way up the pole. This particular flag was special. It once draped the coffin of Herman John Sr., Billy Frank’s brother-in-law. “We’re fishing under this flag and under the treaty signed in 1854 with the U.S. Government,” activists declared on a sign fastened to the pole.
“Right out here by the fish house, right here where Wa He Lut School stands today, saying we’re committed to this fight,” Hank Adams recalls of the atmosphere. “Our cousin, our brother, gave his life in World War II. This flag draped his coffin. We’re carrying on this fight.”
The Native Americans pledged their allegiance to the United States that day—both to serve the country and to fish its rivers. “Our people have fought and died for the United States and we have an agreement with it to fish these grounds. We plan to do so . . . and this flag will give us courage,” said Janet McCloud, a Tulalip Indian and activist. Then, in a gesture of their resolve, the fishermen cast their boats. Arrests followed.
“The court didn’t say we had to stop, but only that the Game Department could control our fishing,” Billy told the Daily Olympian. “We are catching mainly chum salmon, or dog salmon as some people call them, and a few steelhead. . . . We have no trouble with the Fisheries Department over catching chum salmon—only with sportsmen over the few steelhead we take. We’re not depleting the salmon!”
“They must think the steelhead swam over behind the Mayflower. With or without the Indians’ help, the white man is going to deplete the salmon runs just like the buffalo,” quipped McCloud.