I excitedly waited for the parade to start. My arm hung out of the side of our “float”, a pickup truck adorned with two wooden side panels depicting Alaska wildlife. I fiddled with a kit-kat while discussing strategy with Travis, a fellow intern. As the “kids” of the refuge, we were tasked with the honor of hurling as much candy as possible to the parade-goers. We took this duty very seriously.

Suddenly it was go-time. The truck started up, and we joined the line of other decorated vehicles. Some had restored military trucks, others had banners draped out of their windows. Another person tied a sled to the top of their car, where a husky and his handler sat proudly. Everyone seemed to be just as into it as we were, which made sense- because Bristol Bay’s fishing season overlaps with 4^th of July, Fishtival was the biggest event of the summer.

The next five minutes or so was a commotion of cheering, waving, and throwing handfuls of candy at the smiling crowd. Of course, the kids loved it- but the parents and fishermen were happily surprised to have Reese’s and skittles flying at them too. The parade met up at the community center, where the bazaar would take place.  Most people were selling things - fragrant foods, soft furs, and vibrant art. I, instead, unloaded boxes of flyers, calendars, and coloring books. I placed a stuffed walrus - who we jokingly put sunglasses on and named “Walt" - as the centerpiece. I got to meet locals, tourists, and fishermen alike and talk about their experiences with marine wildlife. I was even able to inform someone of the proper tagging procedures of his walrus skull. My favorite visitor was a dog, who wandered from table to table as if he was no different from the rest of us.

Fishtival was my final sendoff from King Salmon. The next week, I drove to my favorite café to say goodbye to the workers I had gotten to know after quite a few visits (seriously, Heart O’ the Shire has some of the best coffee and sandwiches I have ever eaten). On the drive back, it had hit me that I had been at King Salmon for seven weeks. Seven weeks of walrus watching, coffee drinking, fishing, and finding new ways to entertain myself in such a remote place. While I missed hustle and bustle, Bristol Bay was just beginning to feel like home.

Once again, I found myself in the air. Instead of venturing into the flat, pond-speckled tundra to see the walruses, we headed in the opposite direction. Upon landing, I felt like I time traveled or left the twilight zone. There were highways, bikes whizzing by, and people. So many people. I forgot how loud the world could be. I’ll admit, the first thing I did after work was get fast food.

Despite the change in setting, my actual workday did not change much. I was still working with the walruses. On my time off, I explored Anchorage, which is rather easy considering their extensive bike path system. I went downtown, visited the zoo, and went sightseeing on the shore. Anything I wanted to do was simply a bike ride away. 

The final weeks of my fellowship were approaching quickly. On August 6^th, I met with other wildlife enforcement workers, Alaska-based FWS members, and fellow DFPs to discuss my findings on the project. It was the first time I had ever pulled up a PowerPoint and had been excited instead of nervous. Not only did the presentation have a positive reception, but it made others aware of haul-out disturbance. It opened up new doors for communication within and across federal agencies.

With the walrus project wrapping up, I had the opportunity to branch out and work with the wildlife inspectors. For reference, the walrus investigative work I have been involved in falls under the duties of a special agent. Wildlife inspectors, on the other hand, are responsible for documenting instances of illegal trade that may later become cases for the special agents to handle.

I spent a total of three days working with Officer Chad Hornbaker and K-9 Dock. A typical day began with walking Dock through the cargo area of Ted Stevens International Airport. He is trained to identify the scent of various wildlife. We even tossed a “test box” in among the boxes to watch him excitedly paw at it for a treat. The rest of the day was spent in the office, where Dock took a well-deserved nap while we searched through shipment databases and tagged packages to inspect. Then, we went out to the warehouse, opened the boxes, and inspected their contents for wildlife. 

Before I knew it, I was headed back to Jersey. The summer had gone by so fast. While I am sad to have left Alaska and all of the amazing people I met, I am excited to push myself towards my goals even further than before.

- Allison

Agency: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Program: US Fish & Wildlife Service - DFP

Location: Alaska Office of Law Enforcement

Just after recovering from my jetlag, it was time to board another plane. Instead of going through TSA and waiting at my gate, I stood in front of a FWS-owned Cessna that had four seats and just enough room for our luggage. Kurt explained the flight safety procedures- I was given a noise cancelling headset and an inflatable safety vest equipped with survival gear. As I put my seatbelt on, the reasoning behind the headphones was clear- the loud rumbling let me know that we were ready to go.

On the plane’s GPS, I could see that it would take us two hours to glide over the wilderness. We would arrive in King Salmon, a small fishing town nestled in Bristol Bay. The drive to the airstrip was comically slow, but my heart jumped as we sped up and the tires lifted off the ground. Within seconds Anchorage was shrinking behind us.  About halfway through the trip, we coasted at 1,200 feet high not above, but through the mountains. On my right side It was lush and green, reminiscent of scenery from Jurassic Park. To my left, it was snowing, with glacial mountains so covered that you could hardly see the rock. What blew me away the most was the dotting of civilization- massive stretches of wilderness with a cabin here, a plane parked there, the occasional lonely boat, and so on.

After what only felt like minutes, we landed and took a short break to rest at the refuge.

The geography of Bristol Bay is rather different from that of Anchorage. It is flat, comprised of tundra and dwarfed boreal forest. This time of year, the land blooms with cotton grass so dense that it is reminiscent of the past winter’s snow. To the east, white-tipped mountains line the horizon, a reminder to how isolated from the rest of the world this community is. King Salmon is bordered by a river that leads into Naknek and spills into the sea, with water so clear that small fish can be seen darting in and out of the riverbed.
Before I knew it, it was time to hop into the plane again. This flight was much shorter- only a half hour to Gape Greig, a popular walrus viewing area. We hiked through the tundra on a beachside cliff that looked as though it was cut by a knife. We replaced the storage in the wildlife cameras, pocketing the previous pictures to view later. For the first time, I saw the walruses- they were at sea, heads bobbing in and out of the surf as they grunted at one another in contentment.      

A few weeks later, we traveled to cape Seniavin in a two-person plane that formed a glass box around us. Beneath us, we spotted caribou, moose, and even a whale. It took us much longer to navigate this site. Thick vegetation came up to my waist. The hike feel like wading through water.  We treaded carefully, as the narrow trails we followed were created by bears who like to rest in the meadow.

The long hike was worth it- we were able to install a new camera and adjust the previous ones to be less effected by wind. As we worked on the cameras, the walruses were hauled out beneath us. Watching them interact with each other in the wild was fascinating. My favorite walrus was one who laid on its back, moving its giant body back and forth like a dog trying to scratch an itch.

Aside from trips to the Haulout sites, most of my time in King Salmon has been spent at the office. I am responsible for documenting camera activity and making information accessible to other FWS employees or partnering organizations.

The wildlife cameras take one image per minute over several months- therefore, it takes hours to look through every picture for activity.

People walking along the beach, planes going by, and even the occasional surprise from a fox or bear were fun to observe. Sorting tens of thousands of photos into small, easy-to-understand chunks is a long but satisfying process.

Office life here is anything but monotonous. I often receive a knock on my door from other employees to ask how my day has been, or to chat about projects happening around the refuge. Last week, I was called in to witness the registering of a beach-found walrus skull. The refuge’s biologist drilled a hole into the back of the tusk and helped its new owner fill out a form. This is how I learned that Alaska is one of the few places worldwide where the collection and sale of ivory is legal. Here are some resources if it's something you would like to try yourself:

• https://www.fws.gov/r7/fisheries/mmm/mtrp/pdf/factsheets/walrus_ivory_do_dont.pdf
• https://www.fws.gov/alaska/pages/marine-mammals/pacific-walrus/approach-viewing-guidelines

By far, the most exciting detour was a call to rescue a Bald Eagle.It had broken its wing and had been stranded on the beach for multiple days. A few other FWS refuge members and I loaded up a very large pet carrier and some blankets into the refuge manager’s car and drove onto the beach. The eagle was too hurt to fly away as we shrouded it in blankets and gently guided it into the carrier- it was a good thing we sized up, as the bird was bigger than some dogs.

I was appointed “eaglesitter” and let the bird rest in my garage for the night. The next morning, eagle-sitting duties were handed to Alaska Airlines, who gave the eagle the fastest flight of its life to a sanctuary in Anchorage.

I have spent my weekends enjoying rural Alaska life and the culture of Bristol Bay. The summer is its busiest time as commercial fishermen flock her to catch plentiful salmon. I have spent evenings walking on the beach, where the vessels look like a city of their own. I have also tried my luck at some fishing myself. The pike I managed to catch slipped out of my hands when I stopped to take a photo. Oh well.

Until next time,

Allison

Agency: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Program: Directorate Fellows Program

Location: Alaska Office of Law Enforcement

 I push my head into my neck pillow, squeeze my eyes closed, and groan. I open them, and the woman next to me passes a look of sympathy. My headache makes it difficult to look at my phone, but I check anyway – it was 11:30 pm, somehow still June 3rd despite having been traveled for ten hours. I shift my gaze to the plane window as we land. That first view - the view of the midnight sun lazily hovering over the sparkling ocean, divided by patches of wetlands and mountains somehow still snow-capped – assured me that the flight was worth it.  

I pushed my jetlag aside and got dressed for my first day – a simple flannel and shirt with hiking boots. Kurt, my supervisor, arrived at the hotel, and we introduced each other and chatted about the job. As we turned the first corner, I stopped talking out of complete shock – the largest mountain I had ever seen, easily dwarfing those of New Jersey and Pennsylvania – was in direct view from the car’s windshield. We arrived at the office, where I was greeted by happy faces, warm welcomes, stories, and of course, lots of names to remember. I was handed a walrus tusk, about the length of my forearm – apparently “medium size”. 

My assignment for the summer is to contribute to the Fish and Wildlife’s Office of Law Enforcement as we investigate the unlawful harassment of walruses. Harassment of any species is defined as human activity that causes the animal to behave differently than it would in its natural environment. Due to changing climate resulting in less sea ice, migrating walruses rely more on terrestrial haulouts. These herds can number in the thousands and these land haulouts are closer to the activities of humans. After being disturbed, the walruses can stampede as they return to the safety of the ocean. This may result in the death of young or weak individuals. My primary work will occur in a remote area where I will be monitoring and streamlining wildlife cameras. While in Anchorage, I have had the pleasure of reading the inner workings of an ongoing case from 2018 and participating in a meeting about public outreach.

On Saturday, I took a “People Mover,” an affordable and easy-to-use bus that promotes sustainability by reducing car traffic in Anchorage. The bus dropped me off downtown near Delaney park – a quaint clearing where kite flyers, dog owners, and picnic-goers enjoyed themselves while the mountain watched overhead. I explored the shops downtown and ended my night at a rooftop restaurant, where I ate a crab grilled cheese as cargo ships floated by.  

The next day I was set for “Beluga Point”, a scenic stop along the Seward Highway. I drove closer and closer to the mountains I saw yesterday, and after ten minutes Anchorage was behind me. As I approached Beluga Point, my jaw dropped. One side was lush, green, and covered with mountains that sloped down as mud flats into the sea. Each side of the highway looked like a different country.  

I then took the scenic highway to the Alaska Wildlife Conservation Center to familiarize myself with creatures I may meet in the field. My favorite exhibit was the porcupine, who I observed feeding and climbing up close. Fun fact: no matter how big you think a moose is, I promise that they are larger than that.

What fascinates me the most about Alaska is its residents' intense bond to nature. Restaurants thrive off mountain and lake views. My hotel is overflowing with brochures for outdoor excursions.Conversations with shopkeepers always concluded with a discussion of our favorite hiking spots. When entering a gift shop, it’s clear – bear t-shirts, moose mugs, a plethora of stuffed animals (I bought the walrus, of course), and seasonings for game – people come here for the wildlife. I have never been in a community so intertwined with its ecosystem services. 

I will have to say goodbye to Anchorage for now – come Thursday I am off to King Salmon, a sleepy fishing town on where walruses outnumber people.

Until then,

Allison

Agency: U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service

Program: US Fish & Wildlife Service - DFP

Location: Alaska Office of Law Enforcement

Alexander Silva is a graduate student at Indiana University pursing a Master of Science in Environmental Science and a Master of Public Affairs. In 2019, he co-authored a publication in the Journal of Mammalogy on the reproduction of white-tailed deer in Coast Rica. Prior to graduate school, he worked for over two years as a Wildlife Technician with Stantec Environmental Consulting, where he conducted bird and bat fatality surveys, wetland delineation, and vernal pool surveys. He also worked on recovery and pollution mitigation efforts in Puerto Rico following Hurricane Maria. He is a certified Associate Wildlife Biologist through The Wildlife Society.