Tutuilla True Fish Brings Tribal Traditions to Portland Farmers Markets

On a chilly Friday morning in mid-June, Lamar Fairley-Minthorn stands on a fishing scaffold jutting over the Columbia River. This isn't a typical fishing dock. The impressive engineering feat extends at least 20 feet over a rocky riverbank, suspended from nearby trees and creating the sensation of levitating above the mighty Columbia.

Minutes later, he stands on a rocky cliff overlooking a different stretch of river — his fishing claim and a place where he envisions settling down and raising a family. He's planning to build his biggest scaffold yet here. Combined with scaffolds he's constructing at Eagle Creek Inlet a few minutes downriver, these will provide him a solid base for his subsistence and commercial fishing efforts.

At 32, Fairley-Minthorn stands at the intersection of ancient tradition and modern entrepreneurship. Through his company, Tutuilla True Fish, he sells salmon at Portland-area farmers markets from a fishery "intact for upwards of 10,000 years." But like scrambling over boulders to reach his fishing claims, getting here wasn't straightforward.

A member of the Umatilla Tribe, Fairley-Minthorn grew up on the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Indian Reservation outside Pendleton, Oregon — a few hours east of Cascade Locks.

"I'm half Black, half Native. On my Black side, everyone's fishermen," he explains. But his Native heritage gave deeper meaning to his commercial fishing journey. "At a young age, around 10, is when you do your first fish ceremony. When you get your first fish, you catch it, and you always give it away just to show semblance with nature, and also that it's reciprocity to give back."

That love for fishing and the sustenance salmon provide stuck with him into adulthood.

"After college, I was kind of bumbling around," Fairley-Minthorn recalls. "I had like 20 jobs. Every year I'd work for a while, then I'd quit and go fishing. It kept happening, so after about three or four years, I was like, 'I want to do this full-time.'"

He spent several years learning commercial fishing under the legendary Brigham family's tutelage before branching out independently. Success wasn't immediate — his first boat, bought in 2018, blew its engine during his first season. Another boat sank. But through setbacks, Fairley-Minthorn learned from tribal elders and innovated.

Four years ago, Fairley-Minthorn officially launched Tutuilla True Fish. Honoring the tribal tradition of using every part of the fish, he specializes in selling whole shares of freshly caught Columbia River salmon, cut and packaged ready to cook at home.

The business model emerged organically.

"A friend of mine is in a Japanese mom group, and we got probably 20 orders the first day," he remembers. "I was legitimately bringing whole uncut fish to these people's houses, delivering it."

Reality hit quickly: "I realized a lot of people don't know how to handle it — processing skills and whatnot."

He refined the concept into something revolutionary for farmers markets: whole fish broken down into 1- to 2-pound vacuum-sealed portions.

The value proposition is compelling. Customers save 30% compared to market prices while getting what Fairley-Minthorn confidently calls fish that "competes nationally at almost any level for wild-caught salmon."

For bulk buyers, savings are more dramatic. "Your cost per pound is $18 to $19. Wild, fresh salmon. Comparatively, you never really see chinook under $25 per pound."

What sets Tutuilla True Fish apart isn't just price — it's process.

"These fish are ikejime finished," Fairley-Minthorn explains, "which basically means they're bopped on their head, gilled immediately. They're bled out and iced immediately."

This traditional approach happens on boats and fishing scaffolds unique to the Nez Perce, Umatilla, Warm Springs and Yakama tribes who've fished this Columbia River stretch for thousands of years.

The scaffolds hang precariously along the Columbia's banks. Construction methods passed down through generations now incorporate modern touches — steel cabling enhances traditional methods for improved safety and stability.

Fairley-Minthorn is building scaffolds at Eagle Creek Inlet, having already deployed pylons for a sturdy base. When constructed, the scaffolds should stretch about 40 feet long.

The design allows fishermen to lower nets or fishing poles at prime locations where salmon rest or swim through. Unlike drift fishing from boats, tribal fishermen exercising treaty fishing rights can fish for subsistence from these platforms year-round.

For Fairley-Minthorn, Tutuilla True Fish isn't just business — it's cultural preservation.

"We're a traditionally caught, native-caught fishery," he says. "When we're out there selling fish, it's kind of a way to keep our culture alive."

The seasonal work connects customers to natural rhythms often lost in modern food systems. Spring brings ceremonial salmon, summer delivers oil-rich sockeye perfect for family barbecues, and fall produces the year's biggest run when customers stock freezers with chinook, steelhead and coho varieties.

Employing several people allows Fairley-Minthorn to pass knowledge to the next generation, keeping cultural traditions alive. His customer relationships spread traditional tribal appreciation of salmon to new audiences.

"With the markets, I'm 100% aware of who's with us, who keeps coming back and just being a part of what we're doing," he says.

Now operating in about 10 markets across the Portland metro area plus pop-ups in Boise, Fairley-Minthorn has staff handling most locations while he focuses on maintaining standards and developing systems.

When convincing skeptics, Fairley-Minthorn relies on product confidence rather than marketing speak.

"If you know, you know," he says simply. "Once you have it, that speaks for itself. I do give out samples. I'm like, 'Let me know what you think,' because I'm highly confident in my product. Once they taste it, they'll see the difference."

For newcomers nervous about handling whole fish, his advice is straightforward: "Start small. Don't be intimidated. But honestly, the best thing is just to try it. The flavor difference is so noticeable that once you have it, you'll understand why we do what we do."

As Fairley-Minthorn builds new scaffolds and develops shipping capabilities to reach customers beyond the Pacific Northwest, he's scaling a business model that honors both economic reality and cultural tradition. In a food system often disconnected from its sources, Tutuilla True Fish offers something increasingly rare: authenticity you can taste.

You can find Tutuilla True Fish at markets across the Portland metro area, from Beaverton, to Hillsdale, to Montavilla and more. 

Happy saving!

Bryan M. Vance,
Founder/Publisher,
Stumptown Savings