So Waterhouse took to the water. He spent two months in a canoe, dragging a water quality probe that collected data at five minute intervals.

Jon Waterhouse, a descendant of the S’Klallam , Chippewa-Cree and Cree tribes, set out in 2006 with a simple mission: a group of Native American Elders in the Yukon Watershed asked him to “go out and take the pulse of the river.” They had noticed a decline in their salmon population, which was central to the health of their tribe. But they didn’t know why.

As temperatures hit record highs around the world this summer, surpassing averages by 40 degrees in Northern Siberia, the Nenets traveled to the United States to join a long-standing inter-tribal gathering called Canoe Journey. Indigenous tribes from Alaska, British Columbia, and Washington embark on a journey through the Salish Sea that can last up to a month. The tribes share food, song, dance, and gifts along the way, in a tradition referred to as "protocol." The mission was to unite Indigenous Peoples in an effort to protect their cultures under duress from global warming.

Waterhouse’s work forged a connection between two tribes on seemingly opposite sides of the world—the Samish Indian Nation of Anacortes, Washington, and the Nenets of Siberia, an indigenous tribe from Arctic Russia—who nonetheless shared similar concerns about the rapidly warming northern Pacific. Joining forces with Waterhouse, the Samish organized a series of gatherings with the Nenets that spanned months and took place in the homelands of both tribes.

The results of his investigation were so much more detailed than what contemporary scientists were able to accomplish in the region, that he was soon compelled to travel to parts of South America, Russia, Greenland, Africa, and New Zealand to track similar trends in global watersheds.

In addition to the warming Arctic, expansion of fossil fuel extraction within and around the Nenets's territory threatens every aspect of their lives. “The rivers located near oil reserves get polluted. You can taste the difference in our water, which is no longer safe to drink or fish in,” said Yulia Taleeva of the Nenets through interpreter Mariana Markova. “There are abandoned rigs from where oil companies drilled years ago, and when reindeer cross these areas, they get trapped and entangled in wires from old rigs. Many of them die painful deaths because they’re helpless to defend themselves against animals and insects that eat them alive.”

The Nenets herd reindeer along ancient migration routes during winter months when ice is thick enough to traverse the arctic tundra. Their clothing, food, shelter, tools, transportation and sacred ceremonial objects all come from the animals. But temperatures are rising two and a half times faster in Russia than the global average, meaning longer summers and shorter winters and big challenges for the Nenets.

“Everything connected to the reindeer is sacred to the Nenets people,” tribal elder Pyotr Ledkov told VICE through interpreter Mariana Markova. “The word ‘life’ in our language is ‘ilebts,’ which also means ‘reindeer,’ so reindeer is life for our people.”

Like the Nenets, the Coast Salish tribes of the Pacific Northwest are no strangers to the devastation of fossil fuel extraction and global warming. “When I was a kid, it was nothing for me to catch a 40 pound salmon. There were so many I could just go to the river, hit one with a club, and bring it home. That doesn’t happen anymore,” Waterhouse said.

For Coast Salish tribes, dry seasons are longer and more severe, with wildfires surging along the entire west coast. Droughts and rising water temperatures have serious implications for wild salmon, which have declined to five percent of historic populations. The disappearance of salmon creates an ecological domino effect that devastates other species, like orcas and eagles, that rely on them for feeding.

“To the Salish Tribes and First Nations of the Pacific Northwest, the salmon is far more than a food item, it’s a core part of our cultural DNA,” Waterhouse said. “The Coast Salish people are spiritually and culturally connected to these living organisms that are dying out."