Alaskans Are Divided Over Wolf Protection
Packs, Subsistence Hunters Compete for Food
By Kimberly Edds
Special to The Washington Post
Sunday, August 17, 2003; Page A03
TALKEETNA, Alaska — Willie Petruska came home from his annual hunt last
year without a moose, for the first time ever. For Petruska, whose family
depends on the meat a moose provides for the winter, it is no small matter
that restrictions on hunting gray wolves have led to a sharp decline in
the moose population.
“I’ve seen a lot of wolves killing the calves,” said Petruska, 64, who
lives in Nikolai, about 200 miles from here, and has been hunting in this
part of central Alaska for much of his life. “A lot of people never got
their moose last September.”
But subsistence hunters such as Petruska may soon benefit from a state law
that takes effect this fall. For the first time, private citizens will be
allowed to use airplanes to track and shoot wolves as part of a state-run
program to reduce the predator’s population. The initiative has sparked
renewed debate here over whether Alaska should try to actively manage its
wildlife in such fashion.
“Potentially, the impacts are huge. We have something now that we haven’t
had in the past: a political administration that is willing to push this
as far as it can go. Hundreds of wolves might be taken all over the
state,” said Vic Van Ballenberghe, a wolf biologist from Anchorage.
There was a time when control of the Alaskan wilderness had to be wrestled
from wolves and bears, but many Alaskans now see those as bygone days. No
lethal control programs have been carried out since 1994. And in just the
past seven years, voters have twice overturned legislative attempts to
reinstate “land-and-shoot” hunting, which allows hunters to track prey
from the air, then land and shoot them immediately without giving their
targets a chance to escape.
Those attitudes are now clashing with a powerful contingent of
traditionalists who want to preserve the Alaska institution of big game
hunting, a group that includes Gov. Frank H. Murkowski (R).
“It’s hard for people looking at this from different value systems to come
to a consensus on the best way to manage these resources,” said Matt
Robus, the Alaska Department of Fish and Game’s wildlife conservation
director.
Under current law, the Alaska Board of Game must determine that the moose
and caribou populations have fallen below certain levels before launching
a predator-control program. The new law, which takes effect in September,
allows the board to act regardless of population numbers and puts private
citizens, rather than state employees, in the driver’s seat.
Current hunting laws also require hunters to land and wait until 3 a.m.
the next day before opening fire, rules that will not apply in the
state-approved control program.
The effort, backed by Murkowski, allows residents to volunteer their time
and provide their own planes, fuel and equipment. Subsistence hunters such
as Petruska would take part in thinning the wolf population and would
benefit themselves as the moose herds grew.
So would big game hunters, who come to Alaska to bag those same moose and
caribou. Critics of wolf control have accused the board and the Murkowski
administration of launching an attack against Alaska’s wolves as a way of
preserving big game hunting and the money it generates. A single hunt can
net an experienced guide $10,000.
“They say this is really to benefit the poor native, but what they really
want to do is benefit the sport hunter,” said Joel Bennett, a former game
board member who is now a representative of Defenders of Wildlife. “It’s a
selfish purpose. It’s not that they’re ridding the universe of something
bad for the benefit of others. They basically want to knock out the
competition for themselves.”
The program’s supporters say only active predator management can level the
playing field for hunters. Board members and hunters claim that moose and
caribou populations have plummeted in many parts of the state. In one area
that covers nearly 24,000 square miles, biologists estimate the moose
population dropped from 7,400 in 1990 to 3,800 in 2001.
John Manly, a spokesman for Murkowski, said it is time for the state to
manage its wildlife, instead of sitting back and watching while nature
runs its course.
“It’s not going to make a whole hill of beans,” Manly said. “I think
people are overblown in their concern.”
Wildlife activists claim that wolves, not moose and caribou, are being
killed off at an alarming rate, and that further reduction could be
devastating. Of the estimated 11,000 wolves in Alaska, nearly 1,700 were
reported killed by hunters across the state last year, but the actual
number may be higher, said Karen Deatherage, a spokeswoman for Defenders
of Wildlife. Daily bag limits for wolves are as high as 10 in some areas,
and private bounties are being offered to cut down on the population.
Predator control has long been the subject of debate in the state. During
the 1940s and ’50s, widespread wolf control was conducted using poison,
bounties and aerial shooting by federal agents. The program was effective,
resulting in small predator populations and large numbers of moose and
caribou. Aerial permits were issued until 1972, when the Federal Airborne
Hunting Act was passed.
In 1992, the Alaska Board of Game approved a five-year aerial control
program that would have eliminated as much as 80 percent of the wolves in
three areas. Calls and letters from angry Alaskans flooded then-Gov.
Walter J. Hickel’s office, and a successful tourist boycott was organized.
The plan was dropped.
A 1996 state ballot initiative and a ballot referendum in 2000 banned
same-day aerial hunting of wolves. Supporters of those measures accuse the
current game board of trying to circumvent the will of the people and
effectively bring back land-and-shoot and aerial hunting.
Visitors spend more than a half-billion dollars a year on wildlife
viewing, with wolves being the species most want to see. But if the wolf
population is reduced, those dollars will start disappearing, too. There
is already talk of a tourism boycott.
State Sen. Ralph Seekins, a Republican from Fairbanks who authored the new
law, said he wants hunters to get a fair shake, as well. Hunting accounts
for 3 percent of the harvest of moose and caribou, said Seekins, who would
like hunters to get as much as a third of the annual take.
“Predators in this state are getting more than their share,” Seekins said.
“If someone wants to hunt to feed their families, they should have a
reasonable chance of success.”
Wildlife advocates worry that allowing aerial tracking by members of the
public instead of professional shooters employed by the state also will
lead to widespread abuses and the wounding and maiming of wolves by
unskilled shooters. Predator-control proponents argue the goal of game
management programs is to reduce the wolf population as quickly and
humanely as possible.
“The scenario that hundreds of airplanes are going to be flying
willy-nilly all over the state shooting at whatever moves is pretty
imaginative,” said Dick Bishop of the Alaska Outdoor Council, a
pro-hunting lobbying group.
The shooting could start as soon as the first snowfall, a necessity for
tracking wolves from the air and for safely landing airplanes.
In Nikolai, the decision is easy. Instead of the months-long supply of
moose to which they are accustomed, residents pay $4 a pound for frozen
hamburger and almost $15 for a steak, luxuries the majority of Nikolai’s
100 residents cannot afford. Hunting moose is how they survive.
“There’s too many people,” Nikolai resident Nick Dennis said. “One guy
gets one moose, and he shares it with lots of people. . . . I don’t know
what’s going to happen this fall.”