A misty November chill hovered over Miller Bay as students split into two crews — one aboard the Suquamish Tribe’s support vessel Challacum, the other riding in a smaller aluminum skiff where Suquamish fisherwoman Shellene George mentored 11th-graders Luther Mills and Billy Jones on how to set and retrieve the long salmon net. From the deck of the Challacum, bundled students leaned over the railing, watching the sweep of the gear, listening for instructions carried over the water and then moving to the muddy shore to haul in the net.
After a few pulls, excitement rose when salmon finally appeared in the net — not many, but enough to learn from and celebrate. The small catch wasn’t enough to carry the class through every stage of processing and smoking, but rather than view it as a setback, it became a teaching moment: salmon work is governed by tides, seasons, luck, and patience, not controlled conditions or schedules.
That’s when tribal fishermen stepped in, supplementing the student catch with additional salmon — not simply to fill the freezers, but to reinforce a message that harvesting, sharing, and preparing food is a communal responsibility, one carried together so knowledge can continue.
“There’s no shame in a light catch,” George said. “That’s fishing. Some days you fill the net, some days you don’t. What mattered was that the kids were out there learning, trying, and working together — and then our community did what it always does and supported them.”
A multi-week cultural learning experience
A multi-week cultural learning experience Ocean to Table is not a field trip or a cooking demonstration — it is a multi-week fall learning experience at Chief Kitsap Academy designed to pass on intergenerational Coast Salish teachings about harvesting, honoring, and preserving salmon. Now in its ninth year, the program is guided by Suquamish culture bearers, fishermen, and food knowledge holders, alongside teachers who connect lessons to science, health, and land-based learning.
Students learn every step of traditional salmon preservation, from harvesting to canning. These are not demonstrations for students to watch — they are responsibilities for students to perform, with mentorship and guidance throughout.
This year, eighth-grade life science students and 10th-grade biology students participated. The project is intentionally tied to curriculum so that academic learning connects to real-world meaning. While most biology students learn about anatomy from a printed diagram, these students discuss how form and function relate while holding a salmon gill in their hand. “My biology students were already in a three-week salmon unit,” said CKA science teacher Scottie Von Rees. “So we talked about surface area and how gills bring in oxygen, then we were able to see it in real life. It’s so cool to make those connections.”
From bay to processing table
After returning from Miller Bay, students moved to the Suquamish Seafoods processing facility, where George works as acquisition manager, buying clams, crabs, salmon, and other seafood directly from Suquamish fishers before distributing it to markets and buyers.
She taught students how to bleed, chill, and fillet salmon safely and respectfully, focusing on steady hands, sharp tools, clean cuts, and minimizing waste.
“They cut it, stripped it, handled icy fish, made mistakes, fixed them, and learned,” George said. “Those aren’t just skills — that’s character. That’s confidence.”
George, who fished commercially from Alaska to California before returning home to raise her family and exercise treaty-protected fishing rights locally, said the program passes down something much deeper than technique.
“What we’re teaching is survival knowledge,” she said. “If something catastrophic happened, these kids would know how to get food, prepare it, and preserve it. That’s real education.”
Teaching inside the smokehouse
Students then moved to the new CKA smokehouse, where they rinsed brine from fillets, sorted cuts by thickness, and learned how to pierce each piece with precise “eye holes” so cedar sticks could be threaded through without tearing the meat. Timing and technique were essential — and different cuts required different smoke durations.
“You can’t mix the backs and the bellies,” said Jay Mills, Tribal Elder, Tribal Council member, and one of the community’s most trusted experts on salmon smoking and preservation. “Bellies can stay in for five to six days, the backs maybe only two or three. Once they’re hung, you don’t take them down and rearrange them.”
Mills said the entire program echoes teachings passed down directly through his family line.
“I learned these teachings from my great-greatgrandmother and my great uncle,” he said. “She lived to be 103, and she passed it down in our family. That’s what we’re doing here — making sure our young people get the same teachings our grandparents gave us.”
Growing student leaders
Both George and Mills emphasized that the most important product is not smoked salmon, but future leadership. Older students serve as crew leads on the water and in the smokehouse, arriving early, staying late, and modeling the work ethic required to complete the project from beginning to end.
“I could have taken over and done it myself,” George said. “But that’s not the point. You give them responsibility so they can rise. And they did.”
George believes the experience opened a door that cannot be closed.
“I guarantee some of them are going to go try clam digging now,” she said. “Some will join fishing crews. Some will teach their own kids one day.”
Mills agreed. “We talk about seven generations,” he said. “We’re almost there. These teachings don’t live if we don’t use them. The kids showed they’re ready.”
Soon, the smoked salmon will be canned and shared, just as families have done for generations Because at Ocean to Table, the goal isn’t just to make food — it’s to make knowledge live.
New CKA smokehouse designed for teaching and tradition
A new smokehouse now stands near the herb and vegetable garden at Chief Kitsap Academy, built to support hands-on learning for Ocean to Table students, among other traditional culinary classwork.
The design was developed by Suquamish Tribal Elder Jay Mills, who has spent decades building and tending smokehouses for his family, using earth-floor structures where the fire burns directly inside. His experience with traditional methods guided the layout and size, but this version includes new features adapted for school use.
The biggest innovation is the external wood-burning stove, which pushes smoke into the chamber rather than generating heat and smoke directly on the floor. Mills researched a variety of designs and cold-smoke systems, combining multiple ideas to find a model that was safer, cleaner, and easier for students to work around.
A second cold-smoke line, with a fire placed farther away to maintain lower temperatures, will also be connected to the smokehouse, giving students the option to explore different preservation methods.
After sketching his concept in a notebook, Mills worked with a friend who turned the drawings into buildable plans. The smokehouse was then constructed with a concrete foundation, cedar siding, and a vented roof system intended to draw smoke evenly. Mills expects adjustments as students learn how it behaves across seasons, weather, airflow, and fish loads.
“Our teachings are alive,” he said. “You build it, you learn from it, then you make it better.”
