On the road in Alaska: The Secretary’s travel journal
Click to read the first, second and third installments of the Alaska journal.
May 25-26, St. Lawrence Island, Alaska
The sale of Alaska to the United States by Russia in 1867 included not only the mainland but also dozens of islands. Among these was St. Lawrence Island, about 100 miles long and 20 miles wide. Located in the Bering Sea, it is closer to Russia than the United States—the western tip of the island is only 40 miles from Russia’s Chukotka Peninsula, while Nome, Alaska, is 100 miles away. The island was sighted and named by Vitus Bering in 1728, but has been occupied by Native people for at least 2000 years. The island’s residents are Siberian Yupik, a hardy people who have learned to survive the rigors of Arctic winters and a life of subsistence based on the hunting of whales, walrus, polar bears, seals, sea birds and migratory waterfowl. There are two main villages on the island, Gambell and Savoonga, each with a population of around 700.
The original Native name for Gambell was Sivuqaq. Its English name derives from a Presbyterian missionary, the Reverend Vene Gambell, who spent three years on the island with his wife, Nellie. In 1897, Nellie became ill after the birth of a daughter, and the family returned to the states for recuperation. As they were returning to St. Lawrence in 1898, their ship sank and the Gambells were among those who drowned. Shortly afterwards, Sivuqaq was renamed in Gambell’s memory.
Smithsonian scientists have had a longstanding interest in St. Lawrence Island and Gambell, beginning with ethnologists Edward W. Nelson and Riley Moore and followed by the pioneering work of Henry Collins, who published his magnum opus, Archaeology of St. Lawrence Island, Alaska, in 1937. Collins was passionate about Alaska’s far north and continued his work there into the 1980’s; he helped launch the careers of our own Bill Fitzhugh and Aron Crowell. St. Lawrence is of particular interest to archaeologists and anthropologists because of its location at the crossroads of two continents and its remoteness, which has minimized the impact of modern society.
Gambell, Alaska (Photo by Wayne Clough)
Our trip to St. Lawrence Island has a special fascination for me given the historic dimensions of the Smithsonian’s involvement and the ongoing research being done there. It also will allow me to see firsthand the town of Gambell. We heard from a teacher in Gambell during one of the Smithsonian’s recent online educational webinars. She told us, “This is my third year of teaching writing in this Native village. My students are all Siberian Yupik….Please think of us out here in the Arctic wilderness. These kids are on the front line of the (climate change) issue and are quite concerned.” The reach and value of Smithsonian online education is illustrated by her comments, and I am glad to be able to see for myself what she was telling us.
Anne and Wayne Clough get a ride on one of the ubiquitous All-Terrain Vehicles used as transportation in Gambell. (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
Along on this trip are my expert companions, Bill Fitzhugh and Aron Crowell, as well as Jim Pepper Henry of the Anchorage Museum and my wife, Anne. We depart from Anchorage for Nome, the closest mainland airport to St. Lawrence. Nome today is a town of about 4,000 residents, and is a hub for much of the work that goes on near the Arctic Circle and its environs. It was made famous by a gold strike in 1899 that led to a rush of miners and adventure seekers that peaked around 1910 when Nome’s population is estimated to have reached 20,000. After we land at the airport and venture into town for lunch, our cab driver points out a boat headed out to the beach with modern-day gold miners aboard. Some miners are apparently still able to make a go of it, but the gold rush boom is long over. It is distinctly colder in Nome than in Anchorage and there is abundant sea ice along the coast.
We lift off from Nome in a Bering Air plane that holds about 10 people, mostly Yupik women and children. Flying in over the dark ocean, St. Lawrence Island appears through the clouds as a treeless, low-lying land mass covered with snow. It is a small remnant of the once massive Bering Land Bridge that connected Asia to North America, prior to the end of the Pleistocene ice age and the rising seas that accompanied that earlier era of global warming. Gambell lies on the westernmost tip of the island. The land is largely of volcanic origin although the village and 2,000 years of predecessor settlements were founded on a flat gravel bar that the sea is actively depositing along the shore. Volcanic hills rise behind the flats and form a habitation for migrating birds. Earlier human populations may once have lived in the hills before the emergence of the gravel bar, although no archaeological evidence of these migrating ancestors has yet been found. Isolated ice floes and stranded small icebergs dot the coast.
The frame of a traditional whaling boat used to hunt whales in the open sea. (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
We disembark into a cold cloudy day with snow showers, and are greeted by the taxis of St. Lawrence, the ubiquitous motorized four-wheelers used for transportation across the island. Our taxi ride takes us to a lodge, which is typical of the construction in Gambell: a pre-fabricated building designed to be functional, not fashionable. Somewhat surprisingly, the lodge is bustling with tourists, who are here for one thing and one thing only: bird watching. This is the time of year when thousands of migrating birds fly north to find a safe place to breed and raise a new generation. Some of the birds seen over St. Lawrence are “overshoots” who were flying across Siberia and missed their landing sites. Sightings of these birds are especially sought after by the birders. Over the course of our short stay I attempt to strike up a conversation with the birders, but not much comes of it. They are intent on their mission and when they come in from a cold watch at one of several points around the island, they huddle over coffee in the lodge to discuss and record their sightings.
Wayne Clough listens attentively as members of the Gambell community describe how climate change is affecting their traditional culture.
Our schedule, too, is packed with activity. Shortly after our arrival, we walk to the local school where we will meet with tribal and Native corporation leaders, followed by a potluck dinner along with singing and dancing. Meeting these community leaders, who include elders, whaling captains and important men in their clans, is an honor for those of us from the Smithsonian. Many are relatively young and are actively engaged in the day-to-day business of the village and in the work driven by subsistence living. This is a busy time for them: hunting is critical to optimize the yield from the migrations of whales, walrus, seals and birds passing by the island. The elders have lived long lives and can offer guidance and perspective on the differences between former times and today.
Our meeting revolves around the challenges that Alaska Native people face in maintaining their traditions and hunting as a way of life in the face of changing environmental and societal conditions.
Subsistence hunting is the traditional way of life for the Siberian Yupik people of St. Lawrence Island. (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
The bottom line for the residents of Gambell is that their survival depends on being able to hunt marine animals and birds. While many of their hunting techniques incorporate modern technologies, the hunters must still go to sea in small open boats and be able to rely on weather and ice conditions that are reasonably predictable in order to make the hunt worthwhile and feasible. For these people, climate change is not a theoretical exercise, but stark reality. And change is definitely taking place.
Rising temperatures are reducing the amount of sea ice around St. Lawrence Island, threatening the ability of the Native population to hunt the walrus and seals upon which they depend. (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
The sea waters are warming and there is reduced formation of the sea ice that allows hunters to track and kill walruses and seals that normally would “haul out” on the ice. The warming of the seas has also brought with it sightings of temperate-zone Pacific species including large sharks. Summers have been cold with storms coming more frequently, carrying with them winds that drive the ice away from the island, making hunting trips longer, more difficult and sometimes, impossible. The permafrost is melting, causing lakes to disappear as the water drains away into the underlying soil. The migration patterns of geese are changing since the lakes to the north now freeze later and become free of ice earlier, giving less time for hunting as the birds pass the island. Finally, the high-tide line is higher on the beach, which when combined with the stronger storms, is resulting in significant erosion of the land.
The observations about the changing climate are made by men with many years of experience and they express a genuine concern about the future of their way of life. We discuss ways in which they might adapt in order to improve their circumstances. They might put a greater emphasis on fishing, but there is no port from which to launch the larger boats that are needed for this. Another possibility would be to mine mineral resources. It is believed that valuable minerals lie at depth on the island, but a systematic exploration has not been done. However, neither of these options is immediately realistic and both would require a significant investment before any returns could be assured.
From left, John Pepper Henry, Aron Crowell, Wayne Clough and Virgil Soonagrook.
We conclude the meeting with our pledge that the Smithsonian will maintain its work with the people of St. Lawrence Island. Through our activities we will highlight the challenges they face to maintain their way of life. I also noted that we will continue to offer our online educational seminars in the future and that we would make sure the teachers and students of St. Lawrence Island are aware of them and can participate.
The meeting was concluded as Virgil Soonagrook, on behalf of the Sivuqaq Corporation, presented me with a “totem pole” he had carved in walrus ivory. This remarkable work of art depicts the pillars of the subsistence way of life: the walrus, a bowhead whale, a polar bear, the Yupik hunter and at the top, a delicate snow goose. Needless to say I was deeply honored by this gift and grateful to Virgil and all those who had taken part in our discussions. I assured him I would see that the carving would find a place of honor in my office in the Castle Building on the Mall.
From left, Winfred James, Bill Fitzhugh and Wayne Clough.
The social activities lightened the somber tone of our climate change discussions as a potluck dinner was served for the large crowd that had gathered at the school. We shared in a meal that ranged from traditional food, including whale skin, blubber (mungtuk), walrus and seal meat to old-fashioned potato salad and delicious homemade cake. While I gave all of the entrees a try, I will have to admit that mungtuk is an acquired taste—one that I am still working on.
A treat during the meal was a chance meeting with Winfred James. Long in years and alert in mind, Winfred worked with Smithsonian archaeologist Henry Collins in 1934-1935 helping to transport Collins and his assistant, James Ford, to their excavations on the Punuk Islands. Winfred told us he is the oldest man on St. Lawrence Island.
Men reenact a hunt in a traditional Siberian Yupik dance. (Photo by John Henry Pepper)
The dinner was followed by Yupik dances and singing. The men formed a drum ensemble with instruments made by stretching walrus stomachs over frames carved and bent from pieces of driftwood. The drums were played by hitting upwards on the skins with the rounded parts of curved sticks that look like small scythes. They played with great skill and changed sounds by the level of the strike or the pace. Women in traditional costumes began the program with a series of dances to honor different aspects of the Yupik culture. Later, the men took their turns with dances that related stories about hunting walrus and whales.
As the audience joins the dancers, Aron Crowell (right, gray shirt) and Bill Fitzhugh (back to camera, green shirt) can be seen dancing an enthusiastic version of “The Iceberg Bump.”
The dancers expressed their joy and pride through their performances and received an enthusiastic response from the crowd, many of whom often spontaneously joined the dancers on the floor. There was more than a little humor as well, with dances called “The Iceberg Bump” and “The Archaeologist’s Limp.”
On our way back to the lodge after the events of the day we visited with Estelle Oozevaseuk, who has lived a remarkable life and became a renowned storyteller and teacher. At 89, Estelle is still spry of mind and was especially pleased to see both Bill and Aron, who know her well.
Estelle Oozevaseuk (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
Estelle came to the Smithsonian with Aron in 2001 as a part of a group that helped to select and document the heritage objects that now appear in the new Anchorage Museum exhibit. Her father, Paul Silook, worked with Henry Collins on his visits to St. Lawrence Island and became a scholar in his own right with writings that are being edited for publication today.
Our last day on St. Lawrence was abbreviated because of the need to catch the not-too-frequent flights between the island and Nome and to make it back to Anchorage to prepare for our departure from Alaska. We arose early only to find that our birder friends were already out looking for the early birds. Our goal was to see visit the shore, see the birds ourselves and to be on the lookout for whales. The redoubtable Chris Koonooka was our guide as Anne and I rode on the back of his four-wheeler with Bill, Aron and Jim on another. The weather was cold and bracing with a steady wind blowing off the sea. We passed racks that supported the traditional angyaq, or whaling boat, made from driftwood and split walrus skins. A concession to modernity can be found in the internal well that allows for an outboard motor to power the boat.
Five bowhead whales were taken in the spring hunt. (Photo by John Pepper Henry)
Birds in abundance were flying along the coast, including semi-palmated plovers, longtail ducks, common murres, pelagic cormorants and raven. The spouts of many grey whales were in evidence out to sea. Back from the shore were the remains of the five bowhead whales captured in this year’s spring hunt, which concluded only two weeks ago. Three had been killed by the sons of Anders Apassingok, including a 25-foot yearling and a 45-foot adult. The other two were taken by Lloyd Apatiki, a 28-year-old captain admired for his skill and courage. The meat of whales is always widely shared in the community, with portions going to the elders, women and teachers of the village as well as those who are unable to hunt.
Our time comes to an end too soon, but we have to catch our return flight on Bering Air. We give thanks to our hosts and load up the bags on the four-wheelers to meet the plane which has landed and is very soon ready to leave. Our send-off crew swells with some of the folks we met last night, including my friend, Virgil Soonagrook. We make our farewells and the Bering Air crew closes the doors and taxies out on the small runway. Gambell drifts out of sight, but not out of mind. We leave an ancient way of life behind and head for the modern one we know. Hopefully, the two can co-exist.
Related posts:
Posted: 7 July 2010
- Categories:
