Thirty miles to the west from the town of Togiak within Southwest Alaska sits Round Island that is referred to by the name of Yugtun in Yugtun as Qayassiq. The island is surrounded by Bering Sea The island’s steep slopes are dotted with plants, lichens and wildflowers. They end with the rocky shores. Seabirds such as kittiwakes, murres and cormorants gather here in between the months of spring and summer. At this time the island also becomes the home of thousands of huge white-tusked Pacific whales, who go to the beaches to rest following the breeding season.
Frank Woods, who is Yup’ik’s hunter, first hunted the walrus in Qayassiq back in the year 1997 even though his family has hunted the walrus in Qayassiq for many generations. “It happened to be the year of an El Nino year, it was extremely warm in October. It was a beautiful day,” recalled Woods, who lives in Dillingham and is now employed by Bristol Bay Native Association. Bristol Bay Native Association.
Qayassiq was home to “the largest concentration of herds whales in the Bay which is why that’s where they hunted for the longest time,” Woods said. In that time fifteen walruses were killed and hunts did not interfere with haulouts in any way.
The indigenous people of Bristol Bay have harvested walrus at Qayassiq for a long time to eat, dress tools, art and other items. However, they were not always able to hunt in the area. Since early 1960s government banned hunting on the island in an effort to conserve the habitat of walrus. The state did this without consulting with tribes, despite the fact that laws in the state restricted access to traditional hunting areas. In the end, tribesmen had to fight for a long time to get back hunter access and, as a result, created a model for tribes to be equal partners in management, a model that still remains in place today.
Woods’ hunt of 1997 took place shortly after the ban was lifted. It was the first hunts in over 30 years. He had a desire to go due to the needs the family he was with.
“My family is still a fan of the walrus” he added. “And it was it was a spiritual experience to experience that – to go on a hunt and harvest it in a timely manner and then give off the meat to people in your community after you return.”
A place of refuge for the walrus
Over the last two decades, Alaska Native walrus hunting practices like those of Woods family have been subject to severe dangers. In the 1800s commercial hunting – particularly by non-Native whalers – devastated the population, which led to the federal government prohibited commercial hunting from 1941. When Alaska was declared an official state in 1959, it also took aggressive measures to preserve the walrus habitat but without distinguishing those responsible for the declining populations.
In 1960 In 1960, the Alaska legislature established the state-owned Walrus Island Game Sanctuary within Bristol Bay and took over the management of seven islands in the region. The state prohibited hunting in Qayassiq which is one of the major Walrus haulouts located in North America.
During the process the state didn’t conduct the hearing in Togiak as well as another Bristol Bay village before making the decision. This was in line with the state’s policies on conservation in the past and, as stated by State Lands and Refuges Manager Adam Dubour, who stepped into the position in 2022.
“I believe that attitudes, opinions and practices of the 1960s were quite different from the way they are now,” he said. “I would not be shocked to find that there was no formal meeting with these groups.”
Peter Lockuk Sr, who is on the Togiak Traditional Council, recalls the process of creating the sanctuary without any interaction between the state or the tribe.
“The people of Togiak didn’t know Qayassiq Island became a sanctuary. The public was unaware of the sanctuary and a few people were detained,” he said. “They were slapped because of it, so they had to take off and catch Walrus.”
The closure was in effect for more than 30 years.
Read more about: “The Round Island Walrus Hunt: Reviving the tradition of a Cultural Tradition
A collaborative effort
The hunt for walrus revolves around community – offering food, while also helping new hunters learn how to harvest efficiently and safely. Hunts are guided by cakarpeknaki, which means “with the respect of others and in a clean manner.”
Lockuk stated that if the crew hasn’t searched for a specific time and are excited to get out could be felt.
“You might notice that people start to get restless”When, when the hunting for walruses going to be going on?'” Lockuk said.
The people used to travel on skin-covered kayaks in order to hunt walrus Qayassiq meaning “a location where you can kayak” within Yugtun.
These days, skiffs of 18 feet are a common sight, and based on the area they’re located hunting, some hunters utilize 32-foot power boats to bring the walrus back to their home towns. Between five and 20 people could form an entire hunting group and they must determine ahead of time who will hunt and who will steer their boat and what exactly to handle the carcass of the walrus with a weight of two tons.
“You need to be prepared for us because it’s a huge aspect. It’s only a matter of time,” said Mickey Sharp who is a Twin Hills hunt captain and an official of the Qayassiq Walrus Commission. (Sharp hunts on another island within the sanctuary, but hasn’t hunted at Qayassiq as of yet, although the hunter hopes to return someday.)
It takes approximately two hours to travel to Qayassiq from Togiak and then riding out to the Bering Sea in open waters and calm waters. This means that peace and calm is the best.
Daryll Thompson, who has been part of Togiak’s community hunts both on and off for many years she believes it’s more beneficial to show novice hunters on how they can hunt in the open. It’s more convenient to choose the animals they want to hunt and then butcher quickly.
“It’s slightly more exciting when you’re all at sea” He said. “You must take your boat and stand up and take a good shot, after that, you need to take them to harpoon. With a harpoon, stop them from sinking and you are able to retrieve animals.”
Moving a walrus on the boat could be as if “dead heavy lifting” Sharp said. It is also crucial for the crew to begin cutting the walrus’s meat immediately. In the event that it is not done, the meat will get rotten. The crew is constantly working, and several members could butcher the walrus within a couple of hours.
“It’s simply a amount of work,” Sharp said. “Holy, yeah. It’s as easy as eating cake.”
After a successful hunt the hunter will transport food back in the villages where it will be used to feed the village throughout the throughout the year. “We assist each other to cut the meat to smaller bits. This way we can distribute first to elderly, and also to individuals who can’t go hunting,” explained Lockuk.
Fight for the kill
In the years following the closing of hunting in 1960 at Qayassiq and the Togiak Traditional Council and other tribes from Qayassiq had to navigate State’s regulation system as well as federal courts to gain the right to hunt walrus.
The state restricted hunting for walrus in the western Bristol Bay until 1972, at which point it was the time that federal legislation called for Marine Mammal Protection Act passed. This act recognized the rights of Alaska Natives to hunt walrus as well as other marine mammals for as long as their populations were healthy.
However, the state was able to regain management power over Pacific Walruses a few years later and also restricted hunting outside of the sanctuary in the western part of Bristol Bay. The residents from Togiak filed a lawsuit and challenged the authority of the state to restrict hunting. They prevailed in 1979 in which the court decided that federal law meant Alaska Native people must be permitted to hunt. Since the state argued that its constitution didn’t allow the exemptions required by law, management of walrus in Alaska was transferred in the hands of federal officials.
But, since Qayassiq was part of the state’s game sanctuary and was protected by the state, it was possible to close it to hunting.
In 1991, the Togiak elders asked for the state Board of Game for a restricted hunt in Qayassiq. They had to apply three times in order to get the hunt authorised. Larry Van Daele, who was an expert in regional biology at Bristol Bay at the time and said certain of his superiors had told that he should not collaborate with the people in Bristol Bay. However, he believed there was a way to compromise.
In a reference to the state’s hardline policy, Van Daele said his supervisors would tell him “they’re going to inform you that they need to hunt in Round Island, because that’s their usual hunting zone. You can’t get that. You can hunt anywhere you like However, don’t visit Round Island, because that’s illegal to visit to there.'”
Following the rejection of a plan to set up subsistence hunting on the island by the State Board of Game, two Togiak residents named Marie as well as Adam Arnariak – went out to the island and killed an elk in civil non-violence. This became called Arnariak Case. Arnariak Case, which challenged the authority of the state to regulate hunting for walruses in the sanctuary. The court case and the possibility of an illegal hunt being conducted on the island made it necessary for government agencies to enter into negotiations with hunters.
In 1995 tribal leaders from Togiak as well as other communities successfully pushed the state to reinstate hunts for subsistence. In the present, Alaska Native commissioners on the Qayassiq Walrus Commission manage a hunting season every fall, in a similar manner to federal and state agencies.
“Co-management meant that you had a similar input into what was going in the world,” Van Daele said. “That’s the way walrus’s was on Round Island ended up being and was a co-management system.”
A work in progress
At the last Qayassiq Walrus Commission meeting at the Bristol Bay Native Association in Dillingham the commissioners were seated at a conference with a table next to a big screen which displayed the names of co-management partners. The far corner in the space was a ziplock basket of herring eggs that was on the kelp which had been brought by someone from Togiak. A hunter had provided fresh beluga muktuks, and there were also soy sauce, crackers, and salmon dip.
Commission members were working on changing the dates for hunting to allow hunters to go for a hunt at Qayassiq early in September, in an effort to stay clear of the autumnal storms. Members also discussed re-upping resolutions to limit the trawl fishery close to Togiak to address the long-standing concern regarding the impact of the fleet on the clambeds that walrus graze on.
Being able to participate in of the decision-making process within co-management is essential, said Dillingham hunter Frank Woods, who sat at meetings in May.
“This kind of activity is equally important as activities that are subsistence outside of within the rooms,” he said in an interview following the meeting.
It is the Eskimo Walrus Commission is another Alaska Native organization pursuing that work. It was a part of the taskforce that looked into the possibility of reviving the hunt in Qayassiq in the early 1990s. It later signed the co-management contract in the process of reviving the hunt.
As communities adjust to changing climates and changing climate, the need of Alaska Native organizations to have enough support and resources is higher than ever. Sea glaciers are melting, which means that female walruses have to travel farther to have a calf on the ice floes. In addition to a shrinking habitat and less sea ice, it implies more shipping traffic.
“The challenges we’re confronting are growing more complex, as we’re also seeing the effects of climate change on our communities as well as the environment,” said Vera Metcalf as Director of Executive for the Eskimo Walrus Commission. The commission was in Nome after a visit in Washington, D.C. to discuss with the congressional delegation on funding for co-management agencies.
Read more: 2019 Marine Mammal Commission co-management report
The capacity to participate meaningfully in co-management activities – such as going to meetings, presenting public comments, or even conducting research is dependent on capacity, too. For instance, at times, Metcalf has been the sole full-time staff member. She said that the duties of co-management have to be shared equally among partners to ensure that they can best assist Alaska Native communities and the species they depend on.
“We’re experiencing hazardous algal blooms, shipping disruptions and other issues that affect us, and we’re trying to ensure that the population of walruses and other marine mammal resources are in good health,” she said. “If the ecosystem is healthy, then the communities will also be healthy.”
The future is ahead
At the age of 27, David Williams of Ekwok is the youngest member of the Qayassiq Walrus Commission. At the meeting in May the group discussed the possibility of organising an annual hunt for the Bristol Bay communities and involving more youngsters in hunting.
“If we could have 20 hunters in the region for a single jointly hunt and also get 20 walrus across all our communities, it would be a huge help to everyone here, particularly those with disabilities,” Williams said. “Personally I would like to own my first walrus and supply to my fellow citizens my my first ever walrus.”
Another important aspect of maintaining co-management is to teach and involve youngsters. In October of last year, The Eskimo Walrus Commission hosted The Young Hunters Walrus Summit, the first of this type.
Metcalf who is the executive director, said that the idea of the summit for hunters was triggered by an announcement about an event for young fishermen at the Alaska SeaGrant Advisory meeting.
In addition to focusing on co-management laws Metcalf added that she wanted to have discussions during the summit to assist in preparing young hunters to react to changes in the environment and take part in management.
The primary goal of the walrus commission Metcalf explained is to defend the right of walrus to be harvested to eat and ivory for art. She added that there are numerous customs associated with collecting and sharing of the harvested and that doing these things help to reinforce communities’ values that are traditional to them.
“One of our main goals is to have local self-regulation of the management of walrus harvests,” Metcalf said last year. “Helping to ensure that our Indigenous food security and sovereignty is ours for a long time, and well far into the future.”
The story made possible by an award for field reporting from the Institute for Journalism and Natural Resources.
