Schuyler (below), an elder and policy representative of the Upper Skagit Indian Tribe, walking near the Skagit River in Sedro-Woolley, Washington, in December 2025. Warming seas and increased flooding threaten a way of life for Native Americans who have called the Pacific Northwest coast their home for generations. — Grant Hindsley/The New York Times
FOR the tribal nations of the Pacific Northwest, water has been a through line, bringing spirituality and sustenance that have sustained communities for generations.
Now, as climate change drives rising sea levels and increasingly brings devastating floodwaters to native lands, that same water is forcing coastal villages in Washington state to adapt to protect their heritage.
The scope of the change needed was made clear by the flooding across the state in December, which forced 100,000 people to evacuate from low-lying areas, required 600 rescues and took at least one life.
Many of those who fled the rising waters were members of the indigenous fishing tribes positioned on the front lines of the storms, east of the Puget Sound.
“We hopefully never will see this magnitude again,” said Scott Schuyler, 61, an elder and policy representative of the Upper Skagit Indian Tribe.
During the flooding, Schuyler evacuated his home in Skagit County near the Gages Slough, which is in a 100-year floodplain.
That means the federal government estimates that every year, there is a 1% chance of a flood, a high enough risk that it requires homeowners to have flood insurance.
Schuyler’s mother, Doreen Maloney, chose not to leave her home, which sits atop a hill in Clear Lake, Washington. As the water rose, she found her home surrounded by water.
“Well, it’s a lake,” she said at the time. “No matter where you look, it’s a lake.”
Northwest Tribal Nations are widely recognised as leaders in climate adaptation, putting in place educational programmes, rebuilding reefs, moving to higher ground and rebuilding wastewater systems.
But the scale and the pace of change are overwhelming their ability to adjust.
And they say that more grant money from the federal government is needed to protect their communities from rising floodwaters.
Those who evacuated after Governor Bob Ferguson declared a statewide emergency on Dec 10 returned home to find varying degrees of damage.
They soon faced renewed emergency declarations, brought on by levee breaches and flash flood warnings in western Washington.
Around noon on Dec 15, the National Weather Service had urged residents: “Move to higher ground now. Act quickly to protect your life.”
Sandbags used to support a levee in Hamilton, Washington. — Grant Hindsley/The New York Times
Those types of warnings are a new phenomenon for the tribes, which have long had a symbiotic relationship with the water.
Less than 50 years ago, rising waters were not a concern for the coastal dwelling communities.
The rivers were “in great shape, water was abundant, there was not a rising sea level issue at all,” said W. Ron Allen, chair and CEO of the Jamestown S’Klallam Tribe on the North Olympic Peninsula.
There were no conversations about climate, he said, when he took over in the late 1970s. But as the pace of change accelerated, people began to ponder what future generations would inherit.
“I work for the future of our children,” Allen said. “We have high hopes and high expectations for them as we continue to teach them about what’s changing in our society, in our environment, and how do we find balance?”
When a flood occurs, the increased velocity and volume of water can disrupt the sediment at the bottom of rivers, making it difficult for salmon to spawn.
Salmon is a vital food source for local wildlife and the Native American communities.
Habitat restoration for salmon has been a long-standing priority in the Skagit River.
Work to increase the salmon population is ongoing, including ensuring cool and clean water, removing barriers that prevent the fish from migrating and restoring wetlands, according to the Skagit County Salmon Strategy.
Blending traditional knowledge with modern science, tribes have taken steps to slow the effects of climate change, including rebuilding reefs; restoring channels essential for salmon, shellfish and plant life; and educating members on climate-related health risks.
As such, many of the Northwest coastal tribes have published climate change vulnerability assessments and action plans, detailing persistent concerns about public health, species and habitat protection, and sea level rise.
To put those plans in action, tribal leaders say, more funding is needed.
A 2020 Bureau of Indian Affairs report estimated that US tribes would need US$1.9bil over the next 50 years to adapt their infrastructure for climate change.
Grant funding for climate resiliency projects intended to “benefit disadvantaged communities” was cut by the One Big Beautiful Bill Act, signed into law by President Donald Trump on July 4, 2025.
But some money has flowed to the tribes along the coast.
In 2022, the National Science Foundation awarded a US$20mil grant to Haskell Indian Nations University in Kansas to create a research hub for scientists from diverse coastal regions to study the effects of a warming planet on coastal indigenous communities. It was the largest grant ever given to a tribal college.
In 2024, the Bureau of Indian Affairs provided US$32mil to tribal nations and organisations to mitigate the continual effects of the climate crisis.
The funds went to projects aimed at relocating residents and facilities to higher ground, constructing new wastewater infrastructure and researching ocean acidification.
Last May, the Skokomish Indian Tribe, north of Olympia, received more than US$1mil from the Department of Housing and Urban Development for affordable housing.
The Skokomish have several projects under way, including river restoration and the relocation and elevation of infrastructure to mitigate flood risks. — ©2026 The New York Times Company
This article originally appeared in The New York Times
