By Clive Tesar

The caribou is perhaps the iconic Canadian animal. Whilebeavers are credited with helping to build the country, itis difficult to get too attached to an aquatic rodent. Polarbears are also a candidate for archetypal Canadian animal, but they are scattered on the fringe of the coun-try; besides, it is not easy to harbour warm emotions fora creature that would happily add you to its menu, givenhalf a chance.

The caribou has much to recommend it as a national symbol. Although it is mostly found in the vast herds ofbarren-ground caribou that roam the territoriesand northern parts of some provinces, there arealso small populations of woodland caribou scattered across the country. It has a regal bearing and imposing appearance, but is a peaceful vegetarian. As already noted, it is pri-marily an animal of the north, and Canadians,although concentrated heavily in the southernsun-belt of the country, like to think of themselves as northern. There is, however, oneproblem with identifying too strongly with the caribouas a national symbol: its numbers appear to be dwindling.

Alarming figures have been reported on some of the northern herds and populations. The Peary caribou thatinhabit the northernmost part of the caribou range inCanada, on the islands of the High Arctic, are officiallydesignated as “Threatened” by the Committee on the Statusof Endangered Wildlife in Canada. Several years ago, government officials even put together a plan to establisha breeding herd in Calgary, in case the animals were todie out in the wild.

The barren-ground caribou herds are also on the decline.Some herds have undergone a shocking decrease.

Published by the Canadian Arctic Resources Committee Volume 31, Number 1, Spring 2007www.carc.org

The Cape Bathurst herd, which ranges around theMackenzie River delta, has gone from an estimated 17,500animals in 1992 to 2,400 in 2005. The Porcupine herd,which ranges between the Arctic coast of Yukon andAlaska, is down to about 110,000 animals accordingto recent official estimates, from a high of about 178,000in 1989.

What is driving the decreases is not clear, and the reasonsmay be different for different herds and populations. Thetraditional knowledge of local indigenous peoples, which

goes back much further than scientific moni-toring, suggests that there are natural cyclesin the growth and decline of herds, probablyconnected to changes in climate. While thoseclimate changes may have been cyclical, thecurrent climate change being experienced inthe Arctic is unprecedented in its speed, andmay not have the same effects as previouschanges. On top of the climate change factors,the caribou ranges are becoming more

heavily used by industry. There are also more huntersthan ever before, with more access to caribou, and moreefficient hunting methods.

Some governments are paying attention to the shrinkingherds. The Government of the Northwest Territories hasinstituted a barren-ground caribou management strategyfor the years 2006–2010. As part of this strategy, it hasput in place lower limits on the numbers of caribou thatcan be taken by non-native and non-resident hunters. Atthe same time, it has increased the numbers of wolves thatcan be hunted, and has also started delaying the publi-cation of the movements of caribou herds. These had pre-viously been available immediately on the Internet, bytracking the movements of animals fitted with radio collars.

What Price the Caribou?

The caribou has been featured onthe Canadian 25-cent piece since1937. The design was created byCanadian artist Emmanuel Hahn.

CAR-10011_spring_2007_FNL 3/19/07 11:30 AM Page 1

There are few promising signs for the caribou. However,there is one northern herd that appears to be bucking thetrend. The Fortymile herd in Yukon and Alaska, once estimated at over half a million animals, was reduced to anestimated 5,000 at its lowest point. Since then, it has beenrebounding, and although there are no recent survey figures,it is now thought to number about 40,000. The reboundwas not achieved just by letting nature take its course. Thenumbers in the herd only started improving after huntingwas restricted and predation by wolves was limited.

This approach worked for one herd, but what measureswill be necessary to help the other declining herds andpopulations, and what price will have to be paid for thosemeasures? For each place in the north where the caribouare still hunted for subsistence — whether it is Old Crowin Yukon, or Wekweti in the Northwest Territories, orResolute Bay in Nunavut — there is concern over thedwindling caribou numbers, but also concern about lim-itations on hunting. The value of caribou consumed forsubsistence has not been precisely calculated for each ofthe northern territories, but is probably in the realm oftens of millions of dollars per year. That is what itwould cost for people to replace the caribou meat in theirdiets with expensive meat shipped up from southernCanada, and to replace the other economic benefits generated by the caribou hunts.

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While the economic values can be calculated, the othervalues represented by caribou hunting are incalculable.The caribou is central to many of the northern cultures.In hunting the caribou, northern peoples repeat rhythmsestablished over thousands of years, following tracksand trails trodden by distant ancestors. Following thesetrails, taking part in the same activities, is an essential partof their identity. To take away that ability to partake inthe caribou hunt is simply unthinkable. When it seemedthat the federal government would restrict the huntingof Peary caribou, Nunatsiaq News reported this reactionfrom Marty Kuluguqtuq, secretary-treasurer for theHunters and Trappers Organization in Grise Fiord. “We feelit’s our right to continue to harvest them. We’ve got no alternative for our livelihood, our food and our well-being.”

In this publication, we do not survey all of the differentnorthern herds and populations; to do so would requirea rather thick book. Rather, we have chosen particularherds and populations for the particular interests that theyrepresent. The Bathurst herd is probably relied on by thelargest number of people in the north, and is increasinglypressured by mining development, as it shares a rangewith territory rich in minerals, including gold, diamonds,and base metals. The Porcupine herd raises more juris-dictional issues than the average herd as it ranges not justbetween territories, but between countries. The herdsclustered around the Mackenzie delta (Bluenose East,Bluenose West, Cape Bathurst) are treated as one forthe purposes of this examination. They appear to be under-going the steepest decline of any of the northern herds,and are also in an area that may well soon undergo anexplosion of gas exploration and development, assumingthe Mackenzie Gas Project proceeds. The population of

Herd or population?Some groups of caribou are called herds, whileothers are referred to as populations. Thedifference is that some groups migrate to areaswhere the caribou give birth. These calvingareas give the name to the herd. So, forinstance, the Bathurst herd calves in the areaof Bathurst Inlet. The animals in the herd showsome slight genetic differences from otherherds. The caribou that do not appear tomigrate for calving are simply referred to as populations, such as the Victoria Island population.

“For many Aboriginal residents, harvesting of cari-

bou is a way of life that links directly to Aboriginal

livelihoods, culture and well-being. In small com-

munities and for low income families, harvesting

caribou and other wild foods is essential for meet-

ing basic nutritional needs where store-bought

foodstuffs are prohibitively expensive and cash

is scarce. The loss of caribou harvesting oppor-

tunities through reduced access to caribou or

through the implementation of management

actions will cause hardship to these people.”

Caribou Forever — Our Heritage, Our Responsibility.

A Barren-ground Caribou Management Strategy for the

Northwest Territories. Government of the Northwest Territories,

2006, p. 18.

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Peary caribou on the Arctic Islands is perhaps in the mostprecarious position of all the caribou. The numbers appearto have shrunk drastically over the years, and they cannotbe replenished by other herds as they are a separate anddistinct species. Finally, the Fortymile herd will be exam-ined as an apparent success story in bringing a herdback from the brink — something that may be necessarywith other northern herds if current trends continue.

As an organization, CARC is taking the same positionthat it has taken to date on all issues of northern devel-opment. There are important sustainable developmentprinciples to consider when assessing what actions, if any,should be taken to protect each specific caribou herd andpopulation. We firmly believe that local people shouldhave access to the best possible information to help themdecide on what actions to take, and that their voices shouldcarry weight in the debate. It is evident that all the sideshere — those who wish to conserve the herds, those who wish to protect indigenous hunting rights, and thosewho wish to bring further development to the caribou

ranges — all have a valid point. It is our hope that by further exploring the facts and examining the valuesthat underlay some of the issues facing northerners, wecan help people to find an appropriate balance betweenthe competing interests. �

“When wildlife population trends suggest there

is a serious concern ENR applies the ‘Precautionary

Principle.’ This means that management decisions

err on the side of caution. We know that caribou

numbers are declining and we must take reasonable

conservation measures now to prevent serious

or irreparable damage to this resource.”

Michael Miltenberger, NWT Minister of Environment and

Natural Resources, ENR news release, February 20, 2006.

The Position of Caribou in theNorth – An OverviewBy Anne GunnAnne is fortunate to have some 30 years’ experience withPeary caribou, barren-ground caribou, and mountain andboreal caribou. She happily thanks all those who shared the experiences on the caribou ranges and their knowledgewith her.

Caribou and people have woven their complex threadsthrough North American history for millennia. Is thatfar-reaching relationship about to change? As we extendour roads, communities, mines, and pipelines more andmore in the caribou ranges, are we collectively nibblingaway the space where caribou have long adapted to theshifts in weather, climate, and predators? Do we haveenough respect for caribou that we will not allow themto slip between our fingers?

One thing is certain — we cannot afford to dither toolong given the rate of changes we are unleashing acrossthe Arctic regions. In addition to our increasing presenceon the ranges of the caribou, the signals of global warm-ing are already measurable with pronounced warming

in the western Arctic. What do those changes mean tothe future of caribou and what can or should we be collectively doing?

Climate change is nothing new to caribou. In the 1.6 million years since caribou reached North America,they have been through four cycles of warming and cooling temperatures as continental glaciers advanced andretreated. Giant lakes formed and emptied and the taigaand tundra have expanded and contracted. As the habitats changed, the caribou dispersed and adapted.Those adaptations led to the diversity of caribou nowfound across North America.

Within those glacial cycles, barren-ground caribou havetheir own cycles. Over periods of about 30–60 years,caribou herds go from high to low numbers. We knowabout those cycles from aboriginal elders and archaeo-logical sites. The caribou themselves leave traces ofthose cycles. As the caribou’s summer migration takesthem back across the treeline, they follow well-worn trails.

The caribou hooves leave small scars on the exposed rootsof black spruce, and we can count the roots’ growth ringsto arrive at the year when the scar was made. More scarsmean more caribou. The spruce trees can live for a cou-ple of hundred years, which gives us a record of the cyclicshifts in caribou abundance.

What drives the cycles in barren-ground caribou abun-dance? The answers lie in a complex dance between thecaribou having enough to eat and being able to avoidbeing eaten themselves. And that dance is set to the rhythmof climate. Weather interacts with just about every aspectof caribou ecology, and the weather has its own patternsover decades. There are runs of cold, dry winters and thenruns of warmer but moister (more snow) winters. Thenthere are runs of summers that are hot and sunny withlightning strikes, which bring more forest fires thatburn off the lichens the caribou rely on in winter.

We think the decades of good and poor weather affectcaribou forage, and those effects accumulate. Cariboustart to have to spend more energy to find food in win-ter, while their higher numbers may have lessened the easeof finding forage during the summer. Their resilience(ability to cope with environmental changes) declines and

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this shows up as reduced pregnancy rates and calf sur-vival. Meanwhile, the increasing caribou abundancewill have fed increasing numbers of predators, includingwolves and grizzly bears. Their combined effects meanthat soon caribou adult and calf survival declines fur-ther and caribou abundance is headed downward. Thecycle is self-limiting as the reduced numbers of caribousupport fewer predators. The vegetation then recovers andthe caribou are on their way back up.

On Canada’s High Arctic islands, Peary caribou are closerto the limits — life is simpler (less diversity of plants, forexample) and the effects of weather more severe. Theweather patterns vary across the islands, with the largenorthwest islands of Ellesmere and Axel Heiberg tendingto have a more stable, drier, colder climate. The central,southwest, and southeast islands sometimes get warmer,moister air that brings storms (see map on page 11). Theresulting severe weather sharply reduces Peary caribouabundance. Those effects are complicated by other factors, including predation and hunting.

This is a simplified version of a complex story about cari-bou cycles and factors influencing caribou abundance,but it gives us insight into the importance of climate in

Many northerners still use caribou hides for clothing. Items such as these traditionally tanned and beaded moccasins reinforce cultural skills and bringcash into indigenous communities.

Photo: Clive Tesar

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every aspect of caribou ecology. When we go back in time,caribou seem to have adapted to earlier swings in climateby moving their range as glaciers advanced and retreated.It is a sobering thought, however, that during the lastsharp warming trend some 10,000 years ago, many largemammals disappeared. Yukon horses, wooly mammoths,Alaskan camels, short-faced bears, and American lions allfailed to survive. Those Pleistocene extinctions may be awarning to us — it seems it was the human presence com-bined with a rapidly warming climate that was the undo-ing of so many large mammals.

The signals of global warming are measurable in the west-ern Arctic. One example we have seen on the range of theBathurst herd is an increase in July temperatures since theearly 1980s. The warmer temperatures mean an increasein the severity of warble fly harassment of caribou. Warbleflies, which look like bees, terrify the caribou, and forgood reason; the flies lay their eggs on the caribou’s legsand the tiny grubs migrate through the body to spend thewinter growing under the skin on the back. The caribou’sterror of these flies means they spend less time feedingand more time huddled together or running in panic.Less time feeding reduces their condition to the pointwhere calf survival becomes less likely and the cows donot conceive. Extremely hot temperatures also can stresscaribou, so, all in all, hotter summers reduce the resilienceof the caribou.

At the same time as we are measuring the signals of globalwarming, we collectively, through our activities, have agreater presence on caribou ranges. The caribou’s responseis avoidance. We now see subtle and gradual avoidancearound mines. Because these changes are so subtle,some people have difficulty believing that caribou areunder pressure. If the caribou are already struggling todeal with their changing climate, however, these seem-ingly insignificant disturbances may be adding up.

On the central barrens, a third thread interweavingwith global warming and a greater human presence onthe caribou ranges is that now we are in a phase of lownumbers in at least the Bathurst, Cape Bathurst, EastBluenose, and West Bluenose herds as well as the Porcupineherd to the west. Based on past cycles, those herds shouldrecover — or will they? Do global warming and ourincreasing presence on the caribou ranges mean that thepast is no longer a secure guide to the future and that allthe changes may combine to be simply too much for caribou? Where does this leave us?

Before going further, it is prudent to think about “us.”We are a diverse group of people with varied and

sometimes opposing interests. We are aboriginal elders,and we are young people desperate for jobs. We are people who cherish Canada’s north. We are professionalsand we are amateurs. We are as diverse as the caribou and their ecosystems. People, when faced with complexproblems such as conservation issues, have a tendency tolook for consensus when they should not and to look for differences when they should not.

Not only are the people who are part of caribou conser-vation a diverse group, they come from a diverse landscape. The Arctic landscape is vast and ecologicallyvariable from east to west and north to south. Added tothat, people represent and are represented by an array ofgovernment agencies and public bodies, co-managementboards, regional and community land-claim organiza-tions, mining and oil and gas industries, and non-government organizations. All bring their perceptions ofthe issues facing caribou and their own agendas. Wecollectively have different priorities and differing viewsof conservation and our roles in it.

Given our diversity as people and organizations and thecomplexity of the problems facing caribou, what can orshould we be doing? An over-arching answer is respect,starting with respect for each other’s views. Caribou ecol-ogy is complex — causes of declines interact, and simplyblaming one factor or another is unproductive. Complexityis added as declines and recovery are not mirror imagesof each other. In other words, recovery is not simply‘fixing’ the causes of a decline, especially as some of thosecauses may not be within our reach to fix.

Respect includes being knowledgeable about caribou and about the views of people who depend on caribouand people who are concerned about them. This issueof Northern Perspectives will start the conversation we need to collectively have with each other as we take thesteps to ensure that caribou remain an integral part of the northern landscape. �

“Caribou and people have woven their

complex threads through North American

history for millennia.... Do we have enough

respect for caribou that we will not allow

them to slip between our fingers?”

The question of what to do about the declining herds ofthe Northwest Territories is highly charged politically. Itincludes questions of aboriginal rights and treaty rights.It crosses jurisdictional boundaries, between land-claims organizations and between territories. It crossesboundaries of world views, between people who cling tothe traditional ways and the traditional economy and people who see industrial development of the caribouranges as both inevitable and desirable. Stuck in the mid-dle of all this is the Government of the NorthwestTerritories. While the wildlife co-management boards setup under land claims recommend management actionsfor wildlife, it is the territorial government that has theauthority to make regulations.

Michael Miltenberger is a member of the NorthwestTerritories legislature and was recently the Minister ofEnvironment and Natural Resources, the governmentdepartment charged with regulating the caribou. He spokewith Northern Perspectives editor Clive Tesar.

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What do you see as the situation for caribou across the territories?

The information we have, all of the caribou are indecline, most of them quite significantly. You go acrossthe north with the Cape Bathurst, the Bluenose eastand west, the Bathurst, and the Porcupine as well,and even though they haven’t been surveyed recently,there are indications that the Ahiak as well, and theBeverly and Qamanirjuaq are going to be in the samesituation, so we have a circumstance where there’s atrend in all the herds, and it’s of great concern. Theissue is, of course, is this just a cyclical occurrencethat some folks have indicated has happened over theyears, or is it a situation where the decline may be deep-ened by the climate change issues, the resource devel-opment pressure, the harvesting, and all these othercontributing factors overlaid onto what in the past mayhave been a more natural kind of trend.

Stuck in the Middle: The Governmentof the Northwest Territories

Caribou bunching up in summer to try to avoid insects.

Photo: Courtesy of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, GNWT.

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What do you think is the situation, what are the things driving the current declines?

I think from what I’ve seen, read, and what I know aboutclimate change in the north, that this is going to be exac-erbated if nothing else by those factors; by the resourcedevelopment, the harvesting, the climate change, thingslike the melting permafrost, the insect infestation, thingslike freezing events in the middle of winter that makesthe ground so hard the animals can’t feed, formerly verysolid barren ground turning into muskeg and swampwhere the animals can’t travel. All those are directly correlated to climate change so I think it’s a very seriousproblem. I’ve seen some documents that indicate scien-tists don’t even think the herds will survive. We have areally big job on our hands to do the right things.

The government has already taken some management actions,what else are you considering?

Closest to home we’re going to continue to work with theco-management boards on recommendations on how theywant the harvest in their area. Some of them are very strin-gent, as you know; up in Tuktoyaktuk, for instance, they’re

going to cut the harvest off completely. We’re going toclearly look at some things like taking the information[on caribou movements] off the Internet, so they’re notthat easy to get to. We’re making plans to do harvest surveys, and try to do a better job monitoring. We’re goingto have to work with people on regulation and monitor-ing of the whole harvest, which will be a very big step.Outside our boundaries, we want to work with Yukonand get our surveys done, and then the other big issue isto start the process for the calving grounds, talk toNunavut, initiate those discussions, and then, of course,there’s getting the federal government to be a more visible and supportive member of this process. �

“I’ve seen some documents that indicate

scientists don’t even think the herds will

survive. We have a really big job on our hands

to do the right things.”

Photo: Peary caribou photographed by SD MacDonald. Reproduced with permission of Canadian Museum of Nature, Ottawa, Canada.

In January 2007, the Government of the NorthwestTerritories brought together about 170 delegates in Inuvik,near the Arctic coast of the Northwest Territories, for a‘Caribou Summit’, the first gathering of its kind. Mostof the delegates were indigenous, representing aboriginalgovernments, hunters and trappers organizations, or communities. They were joined by caribou biologists,and some representatives of other sections of society, suchas outfitters and resident non-indigenous hunters, and

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non-government organizations, including CARC. For two and a half days, delegates discussed, listened,and put together strategies that they hope will assist therecovery of the caribou herds, and also limit human hard-ships. These strategies have now gone to the Governmentof the Northwest Territories, so that it, together withother northern governments and the federal government,can find ways to put them into action.

The organization of the Caribou Summit was an indication of the alarm of the Government of the Northwest Territories.

Top Twenty Policy Steps for Dealingwith Dwindling Caribou

Photo: Clive Tesar

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Altogether, 58 different strategies were identified underfour different headings. Delegates then went through aprocess to pick out their priorities. Below are the top 20(some have been slightly reworded to help them makesense to people who were not there):

Managing Human Impacts

1. Protect calving grounds in the NWT and Nunavut[some of the NWT caribou herds calve in the adjacentterritory of Nunavut].

2. Reduce all harvest levels.

3. Start mandatory reporting of all harvest [in the past,the indigenous harvest particularly has been poorlyreported].

4. Cut all [non-indigenous] resident, outfitting [com-mercial sport hunting], and commercial [meat sale]harvest.

5. Teach people about their hunting rights and responsi-bilities under land-claim agreements and the Canadianconstitution.

Addressing Hardships

1. Develop local and regional codes of conduct for caribou harvesting [drawing on traditional huntingpractices].

2. Hold regional harvester workshops [to give people thelatest information about the caribou, and about newcodes or regulations].

3. Use DeneKede [an NWT indigenous school curricu-lum] to teach about traditional laws.

4. Use outfitters’ camps as a base to teach youth abouthunting.

5. Educate people about other traditional foods that mayhave fallen out of use and may replace caribou to someextent in their diet.

Information for Management

1. Bring traditional [indigenous] knowledge into decision making.

2. Do all caribou population surveys at one time [so thatthere is a clear picture across the territories of popula-tion trends and levels].

3. Determine impact of insects, climate change, andhuman activity in determining caribou behaviour.

4. Create a central database containing information onall NWT caribou herds.

5. Determine the impact of predators on present caribounumbers.

Engaging Partners

1. Bring youth into hunters and trappers committee meet-ings, wildlife management board meetings, and wildlifeconferences.

2. Develop a management plan for each caribou herd that includes management actions for different herdpopulation levels.

3. Ask elders to help teach youth and people from outside the NWT about how to hunt caribou and howto handle meat to ensure there is no wastage.

4. Don’t make decisions without partners.

5. Hold aboriginal [indigenous] conference on caribou. �

Choosing priorities at the Caribou Summit.

Photo: Clive Tesar

By Frank L. Miller, Research Scientist EmeritusCanadian Wildlife ServicePrairie & Northern Region, Environment Canada

The Canadian Arctic Archipelago is a large group ofislands off the north coast of the Canadian mainland.It is a vast, remote, and isolated region with a collectiveland mass of almost one and a half million square kilometres. There are 36,563 islands in the archipelagobut only 94 are 131 km2 (50 square miles) or more insize. However, fifteen of those islands exceed 10,000 km2

in size, including three of the world’s ten largest islands,the fifth largest, Baffin at 507,451 km2; the ninth, Victoriaat 217,291 km2; and the tenth, Ellesmere at 196,236km2. Caribou and muskoxen are the only two large landanimals to have established themselves in the rigoroustundra environment.

Peary caribou – are they really endangered?

The Peary caribou on the Queen Elizabeth Islands andthe other Arctic Island caribou on the southern tier of theArctic Islands are unique to Arctic Canada; they are sociallyimportant and an economically valuable part of Canada’snatural heritage. Caribou hunting was and still is a focalpoint of Inuit culture, even though there is no longer acontinual threat of starvation. Caribou hunters that canshare caribou meat with other people in the communitybeyond their immediate family members are recognizedas the “best hunters” and given special social status, whichcan even extend to the hunters’ immediate families. Theimportance of the best caribou hunters and the economicsof caribou hunting become obvious when the highprice of imported meat in northern settlement stores isconsidered, as each caribou carcass represents $500 to$1,000 worth of much better tasting fresh red meat. TheInuit are meat eaters, and today families without any wageearners would eat a lot less fresh red meat if they couldnot hunt caribou.

The overall number of all caribou classified as ‘Pearycaribou’ by the Committee on the Status of EndangeredWildlife in Canada (COSEWIC) has declined 84% fromabout 49,000 in the 1960s to only about 7,800 at the

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turn of the 21st century. Of particular note, the Pearycaribou on the Queen Elizabeth Islands declined fromabout 26,000 and now contribute just about 40% (3,000)to those 7,800 caribou. This 45-year continual down-ward trend should more than qualify the Peary caribouand all other Arctic Island caribou as currently being“Endangered,” especially as many populations are stillhunted and there is no indication of any substantial environmental improvements in the near future. In fact,if climate change continues as predicted for the CanadianArctic, it seems most probable that the overall numberof Peary caribou and the other Arctic Island caribou willcontinue downward for the foreseeable future. The entireloss of caribou on some islands is not beyond the realmof possibility.

The Peary caribou, including the other Arctic Island caribou, was recognized as a “Threatened” form of wildlifein Canada in 1979 by COSEWIC, then as “Endangered”on the Queen Elizabeth Islands and Banks Island in 1991,and the overall numbers there have continued downwardsince that time. Although the caribou on other islandsremained listed as “Threatened,” they have since fallento only a small fraction of their 1979 level and even insome cases much lower than their 1991 level. In spite ofthe seriousness of their decline, their status is now in limbobecause of Nunavut’s challenge to the federal governmentover whether Nunavut was given adequate consultation

Peary Caribou – Now you see them,now you don’t!

“The Peary caribou, including the other Arctic

Island caribou, was recognized as a ‘Threatened’

form of wildlife in Canada in 1979 by COSEWIC

[Committee on the Status of Endangered Wildlife

in Canada], then as ‘Endangered’ on the Queen

Elizabeth Islands and Banks Island in 1991,

and the overall numbers there have continued

downward since that time.”

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on the listing of Peary caribou and the other Arctic Islandcaribou under the conditions of the Canadian Species atRisk Act.

All North American caribou and the reindeer in otherparts of the Arctic belong to a single species (Rangifertarandus), which means that any conservation efforts mustbe carried out below the species level. When the caribouand reindeer genus Rangifer was revised in 1961, threesubspecies of North American caribou were recognizedthat some people now accept as the basis for separatingcaribou for the purpose of their conservation. However,

recent DNA testing has confirmed that the current classification of subspecies is at odds with some of theDNA findings and that there is more genetic variety belowthe level of those three subspecies. The genetic makeupof the caribou within each of the eight geographic populations identified in figure 1 represents a differentand unique contribution to Canadian caribou. This creates a problem if conservation efforts are focused onlyon the three subspecies already identified.

When biologists were trying to decide how to classify caribou on the Canadian Arctic Islands, they recognized

Figure 1. Eight geographic caribou populations are recommended as management and conservation units for Peary and other Arctic Island caribou in theCanadian Arctic Archipelago based on current knowledge. Peary caribou: (1) Ellesmere–Axel Heiberg, (2) Ellef Ringnus–Amund Ringnus, (3) Mackenzie King–Borden, (4) Melville–Prince Patrick, (5) Bathurst–Cornwallis.Arctic Island caribou: (6) Prince of Wales–Somerset, (7) Southwest and Eastern Victoria, Dolphin and Union herd, (8) Banks–Northwest Victoria.

that considerable variation existed well below the subspecies level. The purest line of Peary caribou on theQueen Elizabeth Islands could be separated readilyfrom those caribou on islands to the south. To lump allof these caribou together at the subspecies level for thepurpose of their conservation is a serious mistake thatcould lead to irreversible changes in some or all cases.At the very least, it would prevent an adequate evaluationof the biodiversity of caribou on the Arctic Islands. In

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fact, it could cause the loss of some types of caribou thatare distinctly genetically different from their island neigh-bours and, thus, would represent a failure in the Canadiannational conservation goal of maintaining biodiversity atits current level. There is a dangerous misconception thatmoving caribou from one population to another on thearchipelago, and even worse from the mainland to thearchipelago, would be a valid management option — itwould not be! Captured caribou moved by people betweenor among geographic populations would change the exist-ing genetic differences between the caribou. This wouldeffectively destroy thousands of years of evolution of separate evolutionary lines of caribou on the CanadianArctic Archipelago.

From a biological or ecological standpoint, this umbrellaclassification of all Peary caribou on the Queen ElizabethIslands and all Peary-like caribou on the southern tier ofArctic Islands is wrong. It masks most of the genetic variation and differences in the way that the animals look,act, and interact with their environments. For all of theabove reasons, I believe that for the purpose of their conservation, we should refer only to the caribou on theQueen Elizabeth Islands as Peary caribou and to the caribou on the southern tier of the Arctic Islands as ArcticIsland caribou, until they can be otherwise named. Doingso would better identify the different and unique contributions that each of these geographic populationsmakes to the biodiversity of caribou in Canada. It wouldalso establish the best level for the biologically and ecologically sound management and conservation of these caribou.

The impact on communities

While recognizing the precarious and now endangeredexistence of Peary caribou and all other Arctic Island caribou, the cultural and economic needs of local Inuitmust also be accepted. Although the Inuit no longer haveto worry about serious food deprivation, there is still astrong cultural desire to hunt and eat caribou. Self-restraintis the only practical approach to controlling the harvestof Peary caribou and all other Arctic Island caribou duringpopulation lows, and it is only through a temporaryhunting ban or major reduction in the annual harvestto a token harvest that these remnant caribou populationscan recover. It must be kept in mind, however, that recov-ery of such a depressed caribou population will take twoor three decades or more, and then only if overallfavourable environmental conditions prevail.

Peary encounters thecaribouRobert Peary was an American naval officer

who led several polar expeditions. In this excerpt

from his book Nearest the Pole, he describes how

Inuit hunters brought him the first specimens

of the animal later named after Peary.

“After dinner [September 11, 1905], three Eskimos

came in with the meat of four musk-oxen killed in

Rowan Bay, and in the evening the Porter Bay

party returned with the meat and skins of seven

reindeer killed in a valley on Fielden Peninsula

[north-east Ellesmere Island]. These, the first

specimens of this magnificent snow-white animal,

were from a herd of eleven surprised in a valley

close to Cape Joseph Henry, and among the seven

was the wide-antlered buck leader. These beauti-

ful animals, in their winter dress almost as white

as the snow which they traverse, were found later

scattered over the entire region from Cape Hecla to

Lake Hazen, and westward along the north Grant

Land coast, over fifty specimens in all being

secured.”

Source:

http://digitallibrary.amnh.org/dspace/bitstream/2246/1958/

1/B024a22.pdf

13

It appears that the best and quickest solution to the lossof a harvestable caribou population is the promotion ofmuskoxen as an alternative source of meat. The chancesfor the recovery of a caribou population are much higherwith no hunting of those caribou. Muskox populationsare currently available to meet the requirements of everysettlement dependent on Peary caribou and all other ArcticIsland caribou throughout the archipelago. The switch tomuskoxen would promote the conservation of a cariboupopulation without causing any lasting harm to the har-vested muskox population, which could be harvestedwithin sustainable limits. This approach will only workif local Inuit accept the need for them to temporarily shift

their hunting efforts to muskoxen instead of caribou.Switching to muskoxen is not a permanent solution, how-ever, because of the Inuit’s strong cultural interest in cari-bou hunting and because the eating of caribou meat is asmuch a means of socialization as a desired dietary staplein their subsistence lifestyle.

What are the management/rescue options?

There are three major categories for factors that can causean animal to become endangered: (1) naturally occurringextremely unfavourable conditions, (2) human-inducedextremely unfavourable conditions, and (3) a combination

The future of the Peary caribou has become as much a political question as a conservation question.

Photo: Peary caribou photographed by SD MacDonald. Reproduced with permission of Canadian Museum of Nature, Ottawa, Canada.

of natural and human-caused extremely unfavourable conditions. All three categories have been documentedfor various geographic populations of Peary caribou andall other Arctic Island caribou on the Canadian Arctic Archipelago.

Biologists have suggested or speculated on a number offactors that could be causing the decline of cariboupopulations on Canadian Arctic Islands. These include:

• Range deterioration (quantity and quality).

• Relative unavailability of food due to extremely unfavourable snow and ice conditions.

• Predation, primarily by wolves.

• Excessive rates of hunting beyond a population’s sustainable limit.

• Large-scale, en masse emigration.

• Outbreaks of disease and parasites.

• Competition with other caribou.

• Competition with muskoxen.

• Global climate change.

• Disturbing or harassing human activities, such as aircraft over-flights, vehicle and equipment traffic, infrastructure and corridor construction, and people onsnowmobiles, all-terrain vehicles, and on foot, displacing caribou and sometimes supposedly causingthe caribou to move long distances, even beyond theirtraditional home ranges (often speculated about, butnever documented).

The relationships of Peary caribou and all other ArcticIsland caribou with their respective environments are complex and any of the above is possible, but the important

14

point to remember is that over the past 50 years only two of the factors have ever been documented. Food hasbeen relatively unavailable due to extremely unfavourablesnow and ice conditions. This has been the widespreadprimary cause of major winter and spring annual die-offs.On the more southerly Arctic Islands, people have alsohunted caribou populations beyond their sustainablelimits. Predation by wolves could have contributed to thespeed and extent of population declines after initial lossesof caribou from some other cause or causes.

When we consider habitat problems relating to humanactivities on caribou range, we must remember that annualrange is only as good as its weakest seasonal link. That is,little or nothing is gained by protecting only calvingground areas, if we do not also protect adequate amountsof summer, autumn, winter, and spring ranges. It is theentire annual range of the animal that determines its well-being.

Relocations of some caribou, emergency or supplemen-tary feeding, artificial insemination, or embryo transplantschemes might be useful in implementing a small-scalerecovery plan. However, the costs of such activities, thedifficulty of carrying them out, and their unknown valuemake them relatively small-scale, last-ditch efforts at best.

The relocation of caribou from populations from otherplaces is a potentially dangerous conservation effort. Such actions could permanently alter the genetics ofany existing caribou in the area, so their physical, ecological, and behavioural adaptations could be lost.Even when no on-site caribou are left, the reintroductionwould put caribou different from the type that was previously there into an area where, if successful, theywould eventually disperse and corrupt nearby originalpopulations.

Whenever management prescriptions are proposed, theall-important differences between management of caribou solely for the purpose of increasing their numberfor harvest, versus the conservation of a genetically, biologically, and behaviourally distinct caribou in Canadaand North America, must be kept foremost in mind. Mostcaribou populations on the Canadian Arctic Archipelagoare hunted; any attempt at blending management fornumbers together with conservation efforts requiresdetailed consideration of the probable pros and cons ofan action before it is initiated. Trial and error is not a validapproach when dealing with an endangered species;instead, the ‘precautionary principle’ should be applied.

“The relocation of caribou ... is a potentially

dangerous conservation effort. Such actions

could permanently alter the genetics of any ...

caribou in the area, so their physical, ecological,

and behavioural adaptations could be lost.”

15

There is an educational value to captive breeding, leading to greater public concern, even when there is nointention to reintroduce the progeny to the wild. It ismost unfortunate that the 1996 proposed capture of Pearycaribou for captive breeding at the Calgary Zoo could nothave been carried out and that the capture proposal in1997 was rejected by the people of Resolute Bay and GriseFiord. If Peary caribou from Bathurst Island or MelvilleIsland had been captured at that time and placed in theexcellent facilities at the Calgary Zoo under the watchfuleyes of experienced veterinarians, there would now be a10-year increase in those Peary caribou, most of whichwould already be breeding and producing their own youngat the zoo. The presence of Peary caribou at the CalgaryZoo would have greatly increased public awareness of thePeary caribou’s plight and the efforts of Canadians to protect them.

There has been a popular belief for the past three decadesor more that muskoxen compete with caribou, causingcaribou to decline in number. This detrimental effecton caribou has never been documented, even though anumber of biologists have tried to do so. However, themuskox remains a popular scapegoat, especially whenhunting is indicated in a major decline of caribou, as itwas on Banks Island in association with some years of prolonged, extremely unfavourable snow and ice conditions. The area of Banks Island is 70,000 squarekilometres and it currently has an average mean densityof about one muskox per square kilometre — higher thananywhere else in the entire Canadian Arctic Archipelago.Yet the initial decline of caribou on Banks Island occurredwhen there were relatively few muskoxen present, andnow the caribou are recovering in association with thegreatest island-wide mean density of muskoxen ever

known. How can anyone believe that the muskoxen onother islands could possibly be an island-wide threat tocaribou? Although the supposed competition betweenmuskoxen and caribou has been elevated to the level ofdogma, it seems that in reality it should be consideredonly a myth.

The management and conservation of caribou that arecollectively classified as Peary caribou should be carriedout at the level of the geographic population (figure 1).On the Arctic Islands, a geographic caribou populationconsists of two or more islands used in common by agroup of caribou that can be identified as having sharedor related patterns of seasonal and annual movements,distributions, and range occupancy. Eight geographic caribou populations shown in figure 1 are recommended,based on current knowledge, as management and con-servation units for all Peary caribou and for all other ArcticIsland caribou on the Canadian Arctic Archipelago. Pearycaribou and all other Arctic Island caribou should not bemanaged regionally as if they are all the same, nor on anisland-by-island basis because of annually occurring inter-island migrations between or among the islands withinthe geographic populations’ annual range (geographicpopulation #6 includes seasonal migrations between thoseislands and Boothia Peninsula).

As long as the local Inuit continue to focus on huntingPeary and all other Arctic Island caribou, preserving thesecaribou at low population levels is not feasible. When ageographic caribou population is being hunted and thedesired annual harvest is high compared to the popula-tion’s size, the best long-term approach to harvest management is to apply an equal emphasis to the conservation and preservation of those caribou. This canbest be accomplished by maximizing their protectionthrough emphasizing each geographic population’s dif-ferences and minimizing their possible similarities, until,and unless, objective findings indicate that we should dootherwise. The Peary caribou and all other Arctic Islandcaribou on the Canadian Arctic Archipelago are uniquelyCanadian and they deserve the protection of Canadiansin this changing world. �

“Peary caribou and all other Arctic Island

caribou should not be managed regionally as if

they are all the same, nor on an island-by-island

basis because of annually occurring inter-island

migrations between or among the islands within

the geographic populations’ annual range.”

Don Russell, Wendy Nixon, Gary Kofinas, andSusan Kutz

Background

Over four million wild caribou and reindeer (Rangifertarandus) inhabit the Arctic regions of the Earth. Theseanimals provide an economic and cultural mainstay for Arctic indigenous peoples. Recently, changes in climate and increases in human activity associated withthe extraction of non-renewable resources are creatingnew challenges for resource managers, policy makers, co-management boards, and hunters of caribou. To help meetthese challenges, the CARMA (CircumArctic RangiferMonitoring and Assessment) Network was established in2004 to assess and monitor the impact of global changeon the relationship between Rangifer, the land, and thepeople. The CARMA Network has representation fromco-management boards and from social, biological, animal health, habitat, and meteorological sciences.The mission of the CARMA Network is to monitor andassess the impacts of global change on the human–Rangifersystem across the circumarctic through cooperation, both geographically and across disciplines. The ultimate objectiveof the CARMA Network is to help ensure a sustainablefuture for both people and Rangifer.

The CARMA Network is focusing on Rangifer found inthe tundra regions of North America, Greenland,Fennoscandia (Finland and Scandinavia), and Russia.Tundra herds can be larger than 800,000 individuals, suchas the Taimyr herd of Russia. They generally migrate annu-ally from their tundra summer ranges to their taiga winter ranges. Evidence suggests that numbers of caribouin tundra herds in North America often go up and down.Although there is much variability, populations acrossNorth America were generally low in the mid 1970sand peaked in the mid to late 1990s and early 21st century.Population fluctuations in North America may be drivenby continental weather patterns such as the ArcticOscillation and the North Atlantic Oscillation. Accountingfor the growth and decline of herds in Russia is complicated

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not only by limited knowledge of herds and their ranges,but also by the interaction between wild and domesticherds. A huge decline in the number of domestic reindeer since the fall of the Soviet Union has coincided with the increase in wild herds.

Many indigenous peoples of the Arctic hunt wild Rangifer.In all countries we find a mixture of people working forcash and living off the land. The number of peopleinvolved in each activity changes between the differentcountries. Families who live off the land in North Americacan often make money from other sources than caribou,whereas many indigenous hunting families in Russia oftenrely strongly on reindeer.

Monitoring the total circumpolar harvest of wild Rangiferis highly variable in terms of techniques and accuracy.The total number of wild reindeer harvested is roughlybetween 250,000 and 300,000 individuals each year,which constitutes a major contribution to the regionaleconomy throughout the circumpolar north. Commercialoperations account for most of the hunting economy ofwild reindeer in Russia. In North America, many, but notall, indigenous people oppose large-scale commercialexploitation of caribou herds. They harvest caribou as asubsistence resource, sharing the meat between house-holds and local communities. In Alaska, federal lawprohibits commercial harvesting of caribou. Indigenoussubsistence harvest accounts for over 80% of the totalharvest of caribou every year in North America. By comparison, approximately 80% of the total wild reindeer harvest in Russia is commercial.

Climate change in Rangifer systems

Change and uncertainty have always been a part of therelationship between people and Rangifer, with periodsof Rangifer scarcity having severe consequences for humanpopulations who depend on the animals for survival.Factors that influence the health of individual Rangiferand thus the productivity of herds include depth, hardness, and density of snow cover, timing and patternof snow melt, duration and intensity of insect harassment

CircumArctic Rangifer Monitoringand Assessment (CARMA) NetworkOverview

17

(i.e., summer temperatures and wind dynamics), frequencyand extent of fall icing (where ice forms on the land), andfire occurrence on winter range. These factors can affectthe animals directly through activity expended and foodavailability. There are also the indirect effects, such as thenumbers and location of predators, incidence of parasitesand disease, lichen abundance and distribution on winter ranges, and other climate-related trends on thespring and summer ranges. The caribou react to thesepressures in different ways, such as nursing their calvesfor different lengths of time, changing their range, orother changes in their behaviour.

Regional climate trends and local weather play a critical role in regulating herd productivity. When animals cannot get enough food, females must “trade-off ” between what is best for their calves and their ownbody reserves, both of which may influence subsequent

survival or reproduction. Arctic caribou have lots of goodquality food in spring and early summer. During thisshort period, reproductive females must replenish bodyfat and protein depleted during winter while also puttingenergy into producing milk. These nutritive demandsare each critical to the reproductive success of the female:failure to meet the nutritional needs of the current calfmay reduce its survival or reproductive potential, whilefailure to replenish maternal body reserves may reducethe female’s chances of survival or her ability to producea calf the next year.

CARMA and International Polar Year

The CARMA Network wishes to contribute to the international initiative “International Polar Year” (IPY), anintensive two-year focus on studies in the circumpolar

Nenets reindeer herders in Siberia demonstrate their roping technique.

Photo: Clive Tesar

regions. Throughout IPY, the CARMA Network will workto improve our understanding of the relative vulnerabil-ity of regional human–Rangifer systems to climate changeand other changes caused by people. We appreciate thefact that climate changes and changes caused by peopleare very different around the Arctic, but we think thesedifferences are an opportunity, providing a set of naturalexperiments to address research questions through comparative analysis.

CARMA Network IPY objectives

The CARMA Network has held three annual meetings.At the Network’s official launch in November 2004, delegates identified a number of indicators that wouldbe important to monitoring the impacts of change.Many of the protocols for these indicators have beendeveloped. At the November 2005 gathering, delegatesformulated a number of objectives that CARMA could realize with funding support through IPY. Theseobjectives are to:

1. Create a circumpolar database of existing data on tundra-dwelling, wild Rangifer and identify data gapsand relative knowledge available among herds.

2. Support the further development, design, testing, and implementation of standardized monitoring protocols to assess the impacts of climate change onhuman–Rangifer systems. These protocols includecoordinated monitoring of habitat (green-up pattern,snow accumulation, and melt, and other Rangifer-relevant climate derivatives such as growing degreedays), individual body condition (body mass and age,body protein and fat allocation and status, current

18

and historical diet, and reproductive/ lactation status), caribou health (quantitative evaluation of parasites and infectious diseases, and contaminantslevels), and herd demography (population size andtrend, birth rates, calf mortality, adult cow mortality,and genetic typing). These data will be complementedwith local knowledge on these and other importantindicators (harvesting activities, migration and distribution in relation to weather, unusual weatherconditions, changes in predation, health and bodycondition of Rangifer, etc).

3. Facilitate two years of coordinated, standardized, andintensive monitoring of selected “reference herds” acrossthe Arctic.

4. Use comparative analysis to test a number of researchquestions through retrospective analysis of existing dataand data generated through the circumpolar monitor-ing program.

5. Report in the scientific literature and through localavenues of communication on the status of human–Rangifer systems, highlighting, where feasible, stressors,degrees of vulnerabilities, and resilience. Two impor-tant objectives are to produce a strategic document to allow the CARMA Network to focus its future activities beyond the IPY years, and to produce university-level curriculum on Rangifer ecology andthe human–Rangifer system.

6. Develop and test decision-support tools that allow fora meaningful dialogue among northern residents,resource managers, and project partners to help facilitate the development of adaptive responses throughpolicies and practices that support sustainability ofherds and their user communities.

7. Ultimately create a legacy of international cooperationin the monitoring and assessment of Rangifer that willfar outlive the IPY period.

The next four years will be busy for the CARMA Networkbut participants are optimistic that through coordi-nated monitoring and free information exchange, all thoseassociated with human–Rangifer systems will be in a better position to face the future.

For more information on the CARMA Network, seewww.rangifer.net/carma/. �

Tundra and taigaTundra and taiga are words used to describetwo typical northern landscapes. Tundra isa Saami word for a northern plain typicallycovered with grasses, mosses, lichens, and lowshrubs. There are no trees. Taiga is a Russianword for the land usually found a little further south of the tundra. Taiga has manysmall trees, including spruce, pine, and tamarack.

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The Bathurst caribou herd ranges through the heart ofthe Canadian North. In the spring and summer, it is upon the Arctic coast, near Bathurst Inlet in Nunavut. Inthe fall and winter, it migrates down through the treeline,past many different communities, ending up in the vicin-ity of Yellowknife, the largest urban area in the NorthwestTerritories.

The Bathurst is still a large herd, numbering about128,000 according to the latest count. But those num-bers are a significant decline from historical levels. Theherd has decreased by 74% in the past 20 years, droppingfrom a high of 472,000 in 1986.

The people who rely on and use the herd are anxious.They are concerned about the future health of the herd.They are also concerned about what impacts the dropin herd numbers will have on them. The Governmentof the Northwest Territories has already taken some actionsto limit the harvest of the herd. Resident hunters who arenot aboriginal subsistence users have had their allocationof caribou tags reduced from five per year to two.

Northern Perspectives editor Clive Tesar spoke about theBathurst herd with Dr. Ray Case and Bruno Croft, bothwith the Department of Environment and NaturalResources of the Government of the Northwest Territories.

How would you describe the importance of the caribou herdto the NWT in economic terms?

RC: It’s hard to do it in straight economic terms giventhe importance culturally and spiritually, but others can speak to that. Economically, as a major food source,everybody just needs to look at their grocery list andfigure out how much they spend on meat and try to figure out how much people in the communities wouldhave to spend to replace this important food source. There’salso a tourism industry built up around caribou, outfit-ting, and nature tours. And I guess the whole image of the Northwest Territories is caribou-related; there’s certainly a value in the overall attractiveness of theNorthwest Territories related to caribou.

What is the present health of the herd?

BC: If you refer to that as the status of the herd, we just finished a calving ground survey. The number ofbreeding females is declining. It’s about 55,000, sothat’s the status of the herd; it is declining. All the keyindicators show that we don’t have as many calves as we should have had, if you compare the number with what it is when the herd is healthy and steady andnumbers are high. Sex ratio is below average, another indicator of the numbers declining.

If you look at the condition of the animals for the pastfew years, it’s below what it should be, which probablyexplains some of the other indicators below normal likeI’ve just mentioned. In some years, pregnancy rates arenot as good, which also indicates the health of the animals is not as good.

We think it’s probably linked to nutritional stress, whichis probably linked to variation in weather patterns, whichwe’ve seen before. The mechanism involved can be difficult to explain; the food may not be as abundant asit used to be, or it could be that the food is there but theanimals cannot access it properly. For instance, increas-ing insect abundance could prevent the animals from feeding by harassing them too much, no quality timespent feeding, snow conditions, snow-pack characteris-tics could also make it difficult to feed. All those factors

Life on the Edge (of development):The Bathurst Herd

“The Bathurst is still a large herd, numbering

about 128,000 according to the latest count.

But those numbers are a significant decline from

historical levels. The herd has decreased by 74%

in the past 20 years, dropping from a high of

472,000 in 1986.”

playing together will affect the status and the health ofthe animals, and I believe we’re seeing that.

There are natural oscillations in the size of caribou herds —how do you separate out that signal from other things happening to the herd?

Those would be difficult to tease out. The important thingis we know there will be a full range of factors influenc-ing caribou, especially when numbers are low. The impor-tant thing is to try to minimize the impacts from all ofthe factors that might influence the size of the herd.

Do you have the sense that the herd is still on the downwardslope or are there signs that it is rebounding?

The low numbers we got in the calving ground surveywere not a surprise; however, in the past year we’ve seenfor the first time since early 2000s, late 1990s, the animals being in much better condition than they hadbeen. In the past calendar year, the animals have seemedhealthy, fat, and a good calving rate. One bit of good newsthat we have, when we did a calving ground survey, wehad a good birth rate, a decent number of calves on thecalving ground right after birth, and when we did the fallcomposition count during the fall migration, we had acalf survival just about equal to that number when theherd was healthy, when numbers were steady and high.Those cows and calves and bulls were all healthy, theywere all browsing properly and there was hardly any snow.So that’s one bit of good news, but that’s all that I can say;we need a few years of those conditions before we see an impact.

RC: All I could say is that was good news to hear, butit’s not enough to come to any conclusions about the endof the decline. If we get a few good years, caribou cando amazing things.

20

What would you characterize as the main threats to the herd presently?

BC: If I refer you to the Bathurst management plan, theone immediate action we can take to minimize the removalof animals from the group is to minimize the harvest. Iwouldn’t call it a threat, but it’s the one immediate placewhere we can intervene and help the herd recover. Theharvest has not been a factor, a direct factor in the decline,it’s more along the lines of the things I mentioned earlier.However, being where we are, the harvest has to beaddressed. I think that’s why we took the managementaction we took over the last year or so; that was designedto help the herd recover. To think of it as a major threatis something I’m uncomfortable with, but it’s definitelya place where we can do something.

What other options are being considered to manage the herd?

BC: The harvest is the very first place you can inter-vene. That’s the real challenge for our managers. The pathto harvest reduction has been established by law. Whenyou have subsistence rights and a conservation issue, everyother alternative from a harvesting point of view has tobe addressed first, resident harvest and non-resident har-vest, before you can touch First Nation harvest. However,if you ask me, Bruno Croft, not the biologist, I would saysomething like, we have to elevate ourselves above therhetoric, the blaming games, and the politics, and thethings that stall the process and spread the hardships ifwe can.

We’re already seeing leadership from some of our leaders.For instance last year, when I went on a community huntwith chief Fred Sangris, he said, “Here’s what we’re going

“Chief Charlie Football of Wekweti ... said,

‘You know, in the past, I used to feed my

family with ten caribou a month, now I think

we can do it with three caribou a month.’ We need

to hear that kind of proactive approach from all

our stakeholders ... to work together to find

a solution.”

“I don’t agree with the selling of caribou meat …

it gives the impression that our caribou are for

sale. Our caribou are not for sale.”

Richard Nerysoo, Chief, Nihtat Gwich’in Council

21

to do, normally we harvest x number of females, this yearwe’re going to harvest only 40% of what we usually do.”And not long ago, I was speaking to Chief Charlie Footballof Wekweti, and he said, “You know, in the past, I usedto feed my family with ten caribou a month, now I thinkwe can do it with three caribou a month.” We need tohear that kind of proactive approach from all our stakeholders, with their own ways of doing things, to takeour situation to a different level, to work together to finda solution.

RC: I think the key action is to ensure we have communi-cation with all of the people involved in this issue, and every-body identify what they can do. I’d be hesitant to say whatgovernment is thinking about in management actions. Ithink the key is for everybody to do what they can.

There have been several recorded declines and rebounds forthis herd — why is it considered so urgent to take actionthis time?

RC: I think there are some big differences, and big prob-lems with trying to use the past to predict the future inthis case. When caribou declined before, they could stayaway from harvest pressure, from disturbance; they couldavoid us. They can’t any more. There’s access by winterroads, there’s access by aircraft, there’s all sorts of activitiesacross their ranges. So we can’t assume that the future willbe just as in the past; we have to deal with it in that cautiousmanner. The caribou have demonstrated the ability torebound from lows in the past, but we have to make surewe give them the ability to do that in the future. �

Taking more bulls instead of cows from caribou herds is one management option under consideration.

Photo: Courtesy of Department of Environment and Natural Resources, GNWT.

People in communities around the central Arctic haveseen a growth of mining and mining exploration in theirregion over the past few years. Diamond mines havesprung up in an area once only rarely visited. Prospectorsand exploration teams continue to criss-cross the barrens,looking for new mines. While many people have welcomed the jobs, they have also been concerned aboutthe potential impact of these activities on caribou.

Chris Hanks represented the NWT/Nunavut Chamberof Mines’ views on caribou at a recent meeting. The Chamber speaks on behalf of the mining and explorationindustry in NWT and Nunavut. Chris spoke withNorthern Perspectives editor Clive Tesar.

How is the mining industry approaching the question of thecaribou declines?

Management of caribou has been a concern of the minesfrom the very beginning. When we went into permittingfor the first mine, BHP, caribou numbers were high, butthe concern was still there that there could be an effect,so the goal all along for all the mining companies involvedin the diamond play and the gold play was to do it in away that wouldn’t harm the caribou. I don’t think we’vechanged our methods with the decline because we weretrying to run programs that would allow us to mitigatethe impacts of the mine already.

What measures are being taken now that you feel minimizethe impacts of the mining companies on caribou?

22

One of the first ones is the philosophical position thecompanies took that caribou have the “right of way.” Howthat actually plays out is that the mines stop when caribou are on the mine roads, vehicles grind to haltand wait for the caribou to pass so that it’s driven intopeople that caribou have the right of way.

In addition to the monitoring that we do, the aerial surveys, and the biologists onsite watching how thecaribou interact with the mine infrastructure, we also havea very successful program with the Inuit at Ekati [BHPdiamond mine], and Diavik’s [diamond mine close toBHP] done some work with the Dene looking at chokepoints on the mine sites, where do you not want caribouand what some passive ways are of moving them around,which has led to Diavik trying some soft fences todivert animals around areas. BHP has tried inuksuit [theplural of inukshuk, piles of rocks shaped like people] tocreate drive lines like the Inuit used to hunt with. A fewcaribou will wander through them, but the big herds tendto follow linear alignments.

Given the sorts of things done to date, and the sense of urgencyand anxiety around caribou, is there more that can be doneby the mining companies?

The companies are helping subsidize the radio collars forcaribou. The herd really needs 50–60 collars to give a sta-tistically valid number; they’ve got 12–13 collars now, sothe companies have come together to help fund that. Thecompanies are helping fund NWT government wolf, bear,and wolverine surveys — these are the prime carnivorespreying on the caribou. I know that the companies havebeen invited to sit down with the local wildlife board;they’re reaching out to try to engage them.

On the mine sites, they’re doing vegetation uptake stud-ies to look at what is being taken up in the vegetation. Ifcaribou eat vegetation on the mine site, what is the riskto somebody down the road who shot that caribou? Is there a risk to humans? At what point would there be[a risk]? So you know, they’re trying to understand thefull range of health and environment issues that surround caribou, and to come up with ways to manage it better.

Industry and Caribou: Can TheyCoexist?

“When the buffalo went from the plains, the

people of the plains, the Cree, the Dakota — their

culture died, their spirit died. Here, we have a

chance to save it.”

Fred Sangris, Chief, Yellowknives Dene

23

The individual impacts of the mines seem to be fairly wellunderstood now, but what is not so well understood is thecumulative effect of several different mines and whateffect they may produce on caribou behaviours. Whatmore needs to be done there?

When you talk about cumulative effects, I think it’s gotto be a much bigger subject. You have to understand thefull range of things that happen to caribou — changes in

range, changes in insects — and within that we need tounderstand what does that mean as they pass the mine.The average caribou northbound is by the mines fairlyquickly. They walk 30–40 kilometres a day, so in a matterof hours they’ve walked right past the Ekati [diamond]mine and the BHP [diamond] mine. Coming south postcalving they move more slowly and are more spread out;they are apt to be around for longer periods of time.The object there is to make sure they won’t get into troubleon the mine site. We’ve erected big berms around pits,and moved them away from other areas with fences andother methods. They use the roads in the summer; theyuse the waste rock piles to get away from insects, so wehave to be aware of that.

I think the studies done on the mine sites are pretty comprehensive. We know that cows and calves tend tostay just a little further away. We’re trying to understandindividually what the effects are. None of the effects we’veseen are critical — we’re not talking about mortality, nothing that causes an issue at the group or herd level —whatever we’ve seen is at the individual level. We’ve seenwolves using the airport electric fences to drive the caribou up and take an animal, bears hiding behind

rock piles along theedge of the road andleaping out at caribou,so they’re using themine site like they usethe rest of the tundraenvironment. But sincewe do not see effects ongroups or populations,we do not think theeffects we are seeing will be cumulative.

Being diverted aroundBHP or Ekati is notgoing to have a long-term effect on caribou.So we do not think,given what we know,that contact with themines is going to causeeffects at the populationlevel. What we haveseen is entirely due topredators. We have not

seen collisions on the road, we have not seen them fallinto pits or containment berms, measures taken to pre-vent those things appear to be working, so the effectsare really pretty marginal.

That said, we have to be vigilant; we can’t stop doing whatwe’re doing because if you get careless something couldhappen. Continued diligence on behalf of the companiesis the best protection for the caribou, to prevent themfrom becoming an issue. �

It has been estimated that replacing caribou meat and other country foods with store-bought meat would cost northern indige-nous peoples millions of dollars.

Photo: Courtesy of the Department of Environment and Natural Resources, GNWT.

There are many human users of the Bathurst caribouherd, ranging from bow hunters who fly in to bag atrophy, to subsistence hunters who rely on the herd toput meat on the table. TheYellowknives Dene, who livearound Yellowknife on the northshore of Great Slave Lake, are traditionally caribou hunters.Fred Sangris is a chief of theYellowknives Dene, and he spokewith Northern Perspectives editorClive Tesar.

How important is the Bathurstherd to the Yellowknives?

It’s very important. I’ve beenworking with the elders on ourhistory for the past ten years, andmost of the history bring people back to the caribou, thetrails, the history, how our people depended on it. Withoutthe caribou, we wouldn’t have made it through. The caribou provided everything, tools, food, and clothing.The caribou are central to Dene culture. Even today, whenpeople harvest it, they have so much respect for caribou.

But now the caribou is in trouble with declining num-bers, and so people are all concerned. There’s so much

24

concern that we’re going to be involved and do our partas much as we can.

Your society has changed over thelast few years, people are get-ting jobs, going out to work atmines, how does this change howpeople value caribou?

It doesn’t change very much.Most of the people that workat mines or oil and gas indus-try, when they do get time off,they’re back on the land again.They take their families on theland, because they have fami-lies to feed. Another part of it isthere’s a high degree of diabetesin our community because of

too much junk food, so now people are more aware of thatand thinking traditional food was the best thing after all.

A lot of the people who work at the mine still have a con-nection to the land. Even though they have a good incomedoesn’t mean they go to the grocery store and just buycans of beans. The caribou and the whitefish is still outthere; they’re harvesters as well.

What do you think is driving the decline of the herd?

Twenty-five years ago, I made my living as a trapper onthe south side of Lac de Gras. I saw the great herds gothrough in the winters; sometimes I’d spend the winterthere with the caribou grazing nearby. My family andother families were nearby and caribou were important.There was no winter road, no traffic; there was no dia-mond rush and no gold rush at that time. If you brokedown there, you’d be stuck for weeks; there was no air-plane, no nothing going on, not like today. Now whenthe winter roads are open, the trucks start moving, youbetter get out of the way, or you get run over; that’s howmuch traffic is out there now. I think we have to ask,should we regulate the winter roads now? It opens upaccess to the caribou area too. A lot of things come into

“We’ve been blessed with large numbers of

caribou, we may have forgotten what it was like

not to have this abundance.... While herds were

plentiful we benefited — now that numbers are

down it’s our turn to help them.”

Michael McLeod, NWT Minister of Environment and Natural

Resources

The Bathurst Herd: Tradition, Food,and Responsibility

Making dry meat. This traditional method of preserving caribou meat isstill widely used in the north.

Photo: Courtesy of Dept. of Environment and Natural Resources, GNWT.

25

question, including the number of flights into the area.In the end of August we saw eight low-level flights in theMackay lake area while we were on our fall hunt; we’dnever seen that number before. We’re looking at all factors and we’re trying to figure out what is causing thedecline of caribou.

From the 1990s, the population of wolves and other predators has gone up, with the decline of the trappingindustry. I think that’s an area where the outfitter couldhelp us, concentrate less on caribou and more on preda-tors. In the aboriginal way, we’re not able to do thatourselves, but the hunters could help us.

What management measures would you like to see?

Where there are settled claims, the government needs tosupport the wildlife management boards. In areas likeours, where claims are not settled, we still need to workin regulating our own hunting area and setting up ourown wildlife management boards. I think those will come

in the near future, but before that happens we need tomeet with a lot of people. We hope that the next step isan elders’ conference, and bring in the trappers and huntersaffected. We need to really consciously think about regulating ourselves. We know the caribou is declining,

“In the end of August we saw eight low-level

flights in the Mackay lake area while we were

on our fall hunt; we’d never seen that number

before. We’re looking at all factors and we’re

trying to figure out what is causing the decline

of caribou.”

Photo: Clive Tesar

By Rod Boertje, Alaska Department of Fish and Game

In 1920, the Fortymile herd was surely one of the largestcaribou herds ever to exist in North America, rangingfrom southern Yukon to central Alaska. In that year, biologist Olaus Murie saw the herd take 20 days tocross the Steese Highway in a migration about 60 mileswide between Fairbanks and the Yukon River. Olaus estimated herd numbers at 568,000 during this “typical”fall migration and concluded it was safe to say this wasan underestimate. The vast range of the herd fromWhitehorse to well north of Fairbanks adds verificationthat the herd’s historic size was extraordinary.

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Why was the herd so huge? Olaus Murie and his brother,Adolph, give us some clues that ring true today. On a six-month journey by dog sled encompassing much of the interior of Alaska in winter 1922–1923, no evidence of wolves was observed. In fact, wolves weredescribed as very scarce from 1916 to 1925. The Muriebrothers thought that disease may have been responsi-ble for the lack of wolves. No diseases are known todaythat would reduce wolf numbers to such scarcity in thisregion, but the Muries believed that the sled dogs that came to the area during the Gold Rush may havebrought diseases that killed wolves, at least until the wolfpopulation gained immunity.

Regardless of the cause, wolves soon recovered andhave been described as abundant from 1925 to the present except for brief periods during the late 1940s,early 1950s, and late 1950s, when the U.S. federal government poisoned and shot wolves to reduce preda-tion on Fortymile caribou. The return of the wolves inthe mid-1920s, coupled with commercial hunting ofFortymile caribou from the late 1800s until the 1930s,is widely believed to be the primary factor causing thedecline of the herd, but the effects of weather and foodsupplies were not studied.

After the 1920 estimate of herd numbers, the next systematic estimates occurred during the 1950s and early

From Extraordinary to the Brink and Recovery: Lessons from theFortymile Herd

we know the numbers; we know it’s real and it’s goingto affect us in many ways. As aboriginal people, we haveto make sure we play our part as well.

When you start talking about regulating subsistence hunt-ing, what sort of reaction do you think you’re going to get?

It’s going to be kind of difficult. In our region there aremany families who depend on caribou for ceremonies,for sharing, for community, for gatherings. Caribou is thecentre of our life. To ask our people to go on regulationto regulate themselves, to maybe even look at quotas so

that the numbers will come back strongly, it’s going toaffect them. We know that there will be some strong wordsexchanged, but we have to be understanding, we all haveto try to do our part. If the herd is going to be there forthe next generation, we have to think about that.Otherwise the next generation may not see caribou at all,so we have to do our part, and ask all people to work withus as well. �

“The return of the wolves in the mid-1920s,

coupled with commercial hunting of Fortymile

caribou from the late 1800s until the 1930s, is

widely believed to be the primary factor causing

the decline of the herd, but the effects of weather

and food supplies were not studied.”

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1960s, when the herd was estimated by various biologiststo number near 50,000. We know that the herd regularlycrossed the Steese Highway in those years. At its presentlevel of 40,000 caribou, the herd rarely crosses the high-way, so it is likely the herd numbered50,000 or more prior to the mid-1960s.

A further decline to only 6,000 to 8,000 caribou by 1975 was relativelywell documented because moose and caribou populations declined in the early1970s throughout much of Alaska.Over-hunting was permitted in the early 1970s in hopes of increasing calfproduction of the herd. Heavy snow-fall, cold winters, and increasing wolfnumbers would likely have caused a natural decline, but with over-hunting,the natural decline was accelerated. Tothis day, harvest of the herd has beenmaintained at a conservative 2% or lessof estimated herd size to favor growthand range expansion.

The herd grew steadily from its lowpoint in 1975 to about 22,000 caribouin 1990 and then stabilized for severalyears. Concern about the stability of theherd set in motion the formation of theinternational Fortymile Caribou HerdManagement Team. Four competingjurisdictions (two U.S. federal agencies,Alaska, and Yukon) had differing management goals for the herd in theearly 1990s and this was unsatisfactoryto the public and to the agenciesinvolved. The idea for a unified missionto recover the herd originated in theYukon, where a large void of caribou dis-tribution was created by the decline ofthe Fortymile herd.

In 1995, the Fortymile Team formulated a plan to uniteagency direction and to increase the herd. The Teamhad representatives from each of the affected agenciesas well as native leaders and private individuals with adiversity of opinions. The permitted harvest of the herdwas reduced from 2% of herd strength to less than 1%,and action was taken to reduce the number of calvestaken by wolves. The herd grew during the Team’s tenure(1995–2000) from about 23,000 to 35,000 caribou andgrowth continued to 43,000 by 2003. Nine years(1994–2002) of collaring 50 to 80 newborn caribouand diligent follow-up of causes of mortality confirmedthat wolves were the major predator of calves, and thatcalf mortality was the chief factor slowing growth ofthe herd.

Five wolves killed 16 calves in an area of 200 square miles on the Fortymile caribou calving range late onMay 28, 1994. Rod Boertje and helicopter pilot Rick Swisher collected 14 calves for this photo; 10 damshad returned to the site and the calves were still warm. The 5 wolves (2 had radio collars) had just killed anadult female caribou 2 km away when we arrived and the wolves were feeding on the cow.

“Nine years (1994–2002) of collaring 50 to 80

newborn caribou and diligent follow-up of causes

of mortality confirmed that wolves were the

major predator of calves, and that calf mortality

was the chief factor slowing growth of the herd.”

Photo: Rod Boertje

To gain widespread political support for increasingFortymile herd size, the Fortymile Team chose non-lethaltechniques to reduce wolf predation. Sterilizing the dominant wolves in 15 key wolf packs and moving theremaining wolves apparently relieved some predationon the herd, because calf survival was relatively highduring most of the ensuing years. When the herdexceeded 40,000, winter expansions again crossed theYukon River near Dawson in the east and the SteeseHighway on the west; thus the herd reclaimed partsof its ancestral range.

Costly sterilization and translocation programs even-tually lost political support, and the sterilized wolves were

28

largely replaced by younger, reproducing wolves by May2005. Lethal aerial wolf control by private citizens was aless costly alternative and was initiated in a small portionof the herd’s winter range in winter 2004–2005. The wolfpopulation was increasing in other portions of the range,so the wolf control area was expanded to most of the herd’sAlaska winter range. Few wolves have been taken this winter because of a lack of snow. The herd has struggledthe last few years and has retreated from its recent rangeexpansions. Our best estimates of the herd are near 40,000caribou and we continue to hope for an increase whererange expansions will benefit both Canadians andAlaskans. �

In spring 1998, 18 non-dominant wolves were translocated from the Fortymile range to the Kenai Peninsula to bolster genetic variability.

Photo: Courtesy of Alaska Department of Fish and Game.

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Submitted by the Porcupine Caribou ManagementBoard

Elders’ stories reflect on thousands of years of cariboumigrations. Always moving, the caribou seek plentiful,nutrient-rich food and safety from predators and bitinginsects. The Porcupine caribou herd’s migration takes itthrough the United States as well as Canada. In Canada,the herd runs through the Yukon and the NorthwestTerritories. It crosses through the traditional territories ofthe Gwitch’in, Inuvialuit, Tr’ondek Hwech’in, and NachoNyak Dun First Nations. With so many governmentsinvolved, protecting this herd is, to say the least, complicated.

First Nation people within the range of the herd haverelied on Porcupine caribou for subsistence for over 20,000years. Because of greatly increased human activity arisingfrom industrial and residential developments in the Northover the past several decades, a coordinated conservationeffort has become necessary. Caribou traditions are thefoundation of local traditions; therefore, the survival oflocal indigenous cultures depends on the herd.

To ensure protection of the herd and its habitat withinthe Canadian portion of the herd’s range, representativesfrom all Canadian jurisdictions in the herd’s range signedthe Porcupine Caribou Management Agreement in 1985.The Agreement established the Porcupine CaribouManagement Board (PCMB) and set out its scope ofauthority and responsibility. The Board manages the herdto conserve it, and to ensure that local indigenous people can continue to use it for subsistence.

In 1987, the Agreement Between the Government of Canadaand the Government of the United States of America on the Conservation of the Porcupine Caribou Herd was signed.The International Board has not met for several years —not since the American board members’ terms expired.

Despite attempts on the Canadian side to pressure the American government to participate, no new boardmembers have been appointed and thus the InternationalBoard cannot meet. The herd’s preferred calving grounds,

a critical habitat, are in the American Arctic NationalWildlife Refuge, and because there is pressure to drill foroil in the refuge, the possibility of human activity in thecalving grounds poses the greatest threat to the herd’s survival. This international issue is beyond the scope ofthe PCMB’s authority.

Developing a Cooperative HarvestManagement Strategy for thePorcupine Caribou Herd

Traditional uses ofPorcupine caribou:• The herd is harvested for subsistence use by its

User Communities.

• This herd has been the mainstay for people

within the Porcupine caribou range for over

20,000 years.

• Traditional caribou harvesting activities express

and reinforce the bond of the caribou users with

the land, their communities, and their families.

• Traditionally, all parts of the caribou are used;

there is no waste.

• Today, caribou skins are used to make traditional

clothing from head to toe, from hair pieces to

moccasins, mukluks, and parkas. Bones and

antler are used to make tools.

• All edible parts of the caribou are eaten: caribou

heads are roasted over a fire and consumed; head

soup is served as a delicacy at special feasts; bone

marrow is extracted, cooked, and eaten; even

hooves are jellied and enjoyed.

Even though the calving grounds remain untouched, scientific research suggests that the herd’s population hasbeen slowly declining. The PCMB estimates the rate ofdecline to be about 1.5% per year since 1990. At thelast census, taken in 2001, there were about 123,000 caribou in the herd. Forest fires, unpredictable migrationpatterns, and other unusual events have prevented a census since that time. The PCMB has determined thatthis decline in population deserves serious attention imme-diately, before the population decreases to the pointthat the herd might have trouble recovering.

Contaminants and disease have been ruled out as signif-icant causes for the herd’s decline. Speculations about the causes of the population decline often point to effectsof climate change. Obviously, controlling climate changeis beyond the scope of the PCMB’s resources and author-ity; mitigating climate change might take more years thanthe herd can afford. Other causes could be predators, but none in particular stand out as culprits. In addition,predator–prey relationships are part of a complicated system, and tampering with that system could introduceundesired consequences. Logically, then, if controllingdiseases, contaminants, climate, and predators aren’toptions, the PCMB had to turn to regulating the one human activity that does affect the herd directly:hunting. The coordinated effort, then, by all parties willbe in the form of a Harvest Management Strategy.

All parties have agreed that, generally speaking, a coor-dinated conservation effort would be best for the usergroups as well as the herd. All of the user First Nations

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and Inuvialuit have settled their land claims and havesome authority to make hunting regulations within theirterritories. These indigenous governments can take anactive role in developing consistent hunter educationstrategies and voluntarily impose harvest restrictions ontheir beneficiaries if they deem it necessary. In addition,mandatory restrictions on aboriginal harvests are allowedfor conservation and public safety reasons under all land-claim agreements.

With so many jurisdictions involved, leaders of all levelsof government and the user groups agree that it is imper-ative to bring all parties together to work out a plan toharmonize harvest management. Some examples of harvest management measures might involve imposingharvest quotas to all harvesters or to particular groups of harvesters, limiting harvest in particular locations, limiting harvest to particular seasons, limiting or eliminating harvest of cow caribou and limiting oreliminating harvest of rutting bulls. A forward-thinkingplan will minimize conflicts between user groups. Sensible,uniform regulations throughout the range, developed withhunters, will improve hunter compliance with the recommendations and regulations. Making small changesin hunting practices now may prevent the need for crisismanagement later.

Identifying harvest practices as a way to protect the herd was a big step, but that opened a new set of questions.What harvest practices need to be addressed, and by implementing what measures? Would those measures beimplemented as voluntary recommendations or manda-tory regulations? There is broad agreement in principlethat all groups should engage in hunter education programsthat incorporate local traditional knowledge. This program will be aimed at reducing wounding loss andmeat wastage and increasing respectful hunting. By hunting better, perhaps no one will have to be asked tohunt less. This program is in the process of being developedso that it can be delivered to numerous audiences, includ-ing resident hunters, First Nations, and youth. By sharing the program for widespread delivery, the PCMBhopes hunters will receive an accurate, consistent, anduniform message about regulations and best practices.

At present, despite the herd’s decline, there are no harvest quotas for First Nation hunters. In fact, the firstoutfitter quota was just established as recently as 2001.The user groups have committed to coming together with PCMB representatives to review scientific and traditional knowledge and identify thresholds at whichrestrictive measures such as quotas or bans on cow harvest should be activated. These decisions will be

A successful hunt.

Photo: Courtesy of Dept. of the Environment and Natural Resources, GNWT.

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referred back to the PCMB, which will make formalrecommendations to the territorial Ministers.

The Harvest Management Strategy is intended to empowergovernments, First Nations, and Inuvialuit to make a proactive plan to conserve the herd on the Canadian side. The planning process will involve an education com-ponent for participants that addresses caribou conservationas well as First Nations’ rights and obligations under the land-claim agreements. The Board’s research will use modern scientific studies and the traditional wisdom of community members. All communities will be broughttogether to weigh harvest regulation options, and the parties will develop an agreement on uniform enforceableregulations throughout the range of the herd. By recogniz-ing the First Nations as key decision-makers, we anticipateimproved hunter compliance. After all, in this remote region,hunter compliance is vital to any regulations aimed at conserving the herd.

The development of the Strategy will happen in threephases over three years. Phase I involves community

consultation and developing the planning protocol, and this process is nearly complete. Phase 2 is the devel-opment of a harvest management plan. Phase 3 is thedevelopment of a Harvest Management Agreement signedby all parties.

Most groups have already submitted a letter to the PCMBcommitting to participation in the process at their ownexpense. The Governments of Canada, Yukon, andNorthwest Territories and the PCMB have already provided financial contributions for Phase I of the Plan.

In the herd’s range, there are more than 10 times thenumber of Porcupine caribou than humans, yet peoplehave a terrific impact on the herd’s well-being. Withsystematic planning and extensive community involve-ment, this Harvest Management Plan will ensure that theherd is most effectively managed, that harmonized policiesand regulations are implemented by governments, thatmanagement measures are supported by the affected com-munity members, and that communities participate at alllevels in the decision-making. �

Co-management – Too Slow in a Crisis? Co-management Boards are often cited as one of the suc-cess stories of northern Canada. These boards typicallyinclude equal representation from local indigenous peopleand nominees of the federal and territorial governments(who may also be indigenous people). The Chair is usuallychosen by consensus among the three parties.

The boards have slightly different levels of authority fromboard to board, but in practice the board decisions aretaken as recommendations by the territorial governmentsconcerned, and usually followed. The boards are inclu-sive, and promote a diversity of viewpoints in decision-making. But are they the right vehicle for decision-makingin a fast-moving situation, such as sudden declines in cari-bou numbers? Doug Larson has a perspective on this ques-tion. He is the chief of wildlife management for the Yukongovernment, and a member of two co-managementboards, including the Porcupine Caribou ManagementBoard (PCMB). He spoke with Northern Perspectives editor Clive Tesar.

What are the challenges involved in working with co-management boards?

People need to understand roles and responsibilities ofindividual land-claims agreements. I’ve found often youhave to go back and open up the agreements, which income cases have been settled for as long as 20 years. There’ssome interpretation that has taken place, but moreoften it’s just being clear what is in the agreements andwhat it means.

The other thing I’ve noticed a lot because I sit on two co-management boards is process. Process is bogging usdown a lot. It’s getting better as we learn the process, andit’s not only the co-management boards; it’s governmentsthat have to learn the process. Because I’m a govern-ment member, I have to sit down with my governmentand remind them what the process is, and I’m sure thataboriginal governments have to do the same. So we’reall kind of going through this transition learning what

the land claims mean and how you implement them. I have a flow chart that explains that in the Yukon if a population decreases to a level, you have toimplement a total allowable harvest through a very, verycomplicated process. There’s a flow chart that has arrowsgoing all over the place. You don’t even have to under-stand the chart; you just look at it and you can see thatit’s a very complicated process. For that to work, there arejust simple things — like you have to be available! It’sincredibly hard to get 10 people together for a meetingto begin with, and then you have to agree on what you’rethere for, and agree on a solution.

My theory is we get bogged down in process for so longthe resource suffers while we’re trying to figure out whatthe process is. So I think the government has the author-ity and responsibility to step in if for some reason the co-management boards can’t reach a decision. We can’tlet this go on forever, and I’m thinking particularly of thecaribou situation, the Porcupine caribou herd in particularon the Yukon side. I know my government is looking veryclosely at the situation on this side, the Bluenose herdsand the decline there. I know my government is not goingto wait until the Porcupine herd declines by 70% or 80%;we cannot do that. We have a responsibility to the resources

32

and to the users to step in and make a decision. I wouldlike to see governments step up to the plate and fill that responsibility.

Other challenges that co-management boards have? Topof my mind, it’s about building relationships — and ittakes a long time. You have to get to know people.Some of our meetings, we sit down and talk about ourfamilies, who they are, where they’re from — it’s all aboutbuilding our relationship. One of the challenges is thatthere’s a three or five year tenure, and somebody else comeson when you’ve just got to know each other. Without thatbuilding of relationships, I don’t think co-managementis going to work.

If co-management boards take so long to make a decisionthat the government steps in and makes a decision, doesn’tthat strain those relationships you’re talking about building?

That’s a good point, and we’re aware of that; it would bea last resort. But remember that in all of the land-claimsagreements — at least on the Yukon side — conservationis paramount. Aboriginal rights are very important, weknow that, it’s written into the land-claims agreements.But they’re all subject to conservation. So that’s what I base my position on; governments do have that

Every year, caribou naturally shed their antlers.

Photo: Peary caribou photographed by SD MacDonald. Reproduced with permission of Canadian Museum of Nature, Ottawa, Canada.

33

responsibility only for conservation. And it’s only as a last resort if you can’t work things out. You’re right; youjeopardize that relationship you’ve been building. I cansay for my part that I would never propose that unless the co-management boards I sit on are well aware of the situation that’s coming up. You don’t want to blindsideanyone; you work through consultation and consensus if you can.

I don’t want to throw a dark cloud on the whole process,because I’m a firm believer in it and I think it will work.I’m a very strong believer in traditional knowledge andlocal knowledge; I think we don’t use it to the extent weshould be using it. But as government, we have to lookat the whole public interest, aboriginal, non-aboriginal,consumptive or non-consumptive; it even goes beyondthat to the intrinsic value of the resource. We have anobligation to the caribou and the other wildlife popula-tions just to make sure that they’re there even if nobodyuses them. I take that very seriously as well.

How could you fix the co-management process to ensure itworks as it should?

There’s turnover of individuals on the boards, and oftenyou’ll find that new members are not as familiar with theirland-claims agreements as they should be. It is worthspending a day with new members to review what theirroles and responsibilities are. If you can get that straightyou’ll save a lot of time and the process will go a lotsmoother. That’s my number one recommendation.

When I go to meetings as a government representative Igo to co-management meetings, sit on those boards, andtry to take my government hat off, leave the politicsbehind. I know we all have biases that are difficult to leavebehind, but I make a conscious effort to do that. We’rethere as a group of individuals with different experiencewho can put our heads together and come up with thebest solution for managing a resource. After we’ve donethat it’s my responsibility to go back to my government,tell them what was discussed, and give them a heads up ifsomething’s coming along. If it might need a regulation(and it can take two years in the Yukon government toget a regulation in place), I can start that process. If itdoesn’t have to be implemented, you can just withdraw.To do that you have to understand the process and where the bottlenecks are. If we could all do that, not just the Yukon government, but also First Nations governments, that would go a long way. Capacity is a very big challenge. I see that as one of the bottlenecks inco-management, the capacity the communities have. We’re

talking about caribou — that’s just one species. There aremultiple species; there are multiple processes. I feel forthe communities, I understand why they’re grappling withit. I don’t have a solution to it, except if we streamlineprocesses, that might help.

A lot of resources, including caribou, cross jurisdictions.What are the challenges implicit in that?

The challenges become higher and more complex. Forexample, the Porcupine herd ranges from Alaska intoYukon and the Northwest Territories. On the Canadianside it ranges through Ivvavik Park; it goes through thenorth slope of the Yukon. So there’s federal govern-ment, there’s Yukon government, there’s the Governmentof the Northwest Territories, then there’s a number ofland-claims agreements. For instance, there’s the TetlitGwich’in agreement that creates primary and secondaryuse areas in Yukon, giving them different obligations andrights than on the NWT side of the border. On top ofthat, there’s the Porcupine Caribou ManagementAgreement that gives First Nations extended rights outside of the primary and secondary use areas. So youstart getting the picture — it’s like an onion with layersand layers and layers. What I’m trying to do on thePorcupine Caribou Management Board is to try to focuson digestible chunks. We’re not going to influence theAlaskan government so let’s just cut that chunk of therange out of our discussions, because we’re not going toinfluence it. But we can influence what happens in theYukon and NWT, so that’s one small example of how wehave to focus; otherwise you can just get bogged downand pessimistic.

The PCMB is putting together a harvest managementstrategy that we hope is going to be the ticket to gettingall of the users at the table to talk about solutions. It’s clearto me that if the communities and the users aren’t part ofthe solution, they won’t buy into it and we’ll be buttingheads forever. That’s what we’re trying to resolve in theYukon; there’s a lot of controversy over hunting on theDempster Highway. We know that the regulations in placeare not viewed favourably especially by First Nations onthis [NWT] side of the border. But again, the govern-ment of the time felt it was necessary; there were publicsafety and conservation issues. So there are many, manychallenges as soon as you get a population that spans orranges over multiple jurisdictions. I think the solutionis we just keep talking, and get everybody in the sameroom, because what I find is if you’re not all in the sameroom you won’t be on the same page; you’re all talkingdifferent solutions instead of finding one solution. �

“I hadn’t really used my body since we flew to Kaktovik, and I strode off, relishing the feeling of pooled blood running backinto my legs. But after twenty minutes of brisk travel, the pleasure gave way to a worrisome fatigue. Shaky and weak from afortnight of sitting, I lay on the ground for a brief rest.

Lying there at eye level with the tundra, I noticed things that weren’t obvious from a standing position: clumps of caribouhair were caught on the undersides of bushes, and beneath them, tips of bleached and moss-covered tines of old antlers pokedfrom the ground. I’d seen dozens, if not hundreds, of the polished and blood-stained antlers that the cows had cast in the previous days, but these rough, half-buried specimens were a new discovery. Crawling on hands and knees, I made my way tothe closest of the bunch and gently tugged it free. Roots, old caribou hair, and pellets of half-decomposed scat sloughed off itspockmarked surface, revealing the teeth marks where countless rodents had come to feed. I reached into the hole, trying tomeasure how much of the earth beneath me was hair and scat, but what I found was yet another well-preserved tine. I rolledonto my knees and scanned the surrounding sea of tussocks, feeling as though I was understanding the magnitude of the calving grounds for the first time.

How many antlers? I asked myself. How many layers? How much hair, scat, bone, and afterbirth? Buried how deep?

I thought of all the ways in which I’d heard the calving grounds described — Olaus Murie’s “Garden of Eden,” Roger Kaye’s“Sistine Chapel,” the Gwich’in’s “Sacred Place Where Life Begins.” And then I thought of the television clip I’d seen of AlaskanSenator Frank Murkowski on the floor of the U.S. Senate eighteen months earlier.

“This is what it looks like,” he’d said, waving a sheet of blank paper during one of many pro-development pitches he’d madeon Capitol Hill for the exploitation of the refuge. Frozen. Barren. Empty. “Nothing but snow and ice.”

All the way back to the tent, I thought about what would happen if the drilling rigs were to arrive. Undoubtedly they wouldbe staffed with engineers and experts from oil-rich places such as Texas and Alberta — people who understand the equipmentbut not the land. Same job, different place, they would joke, rubbing their hands in the chilly Arctic air.

But such disconnection between one’s actions and their effect is no joke, it’s the problem. If the giant drill bit rips into the landhere, it would be the gauges and dials they’d watch, not the caribou antlers and old birds’ nests flying from the torn ground.

Two weeks on, two weeks off. Pockets stuffed full of money, they would fly home between shifts, not knowing what they’d done.” (p. 135)

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Being CaribouThe Porcupine caribou herd’s calving grounds in north-eastern Alaska are a source of constant controversy. On one side, some Alaskan politicians and oil interestswant to open up the calving grounds to exploration anddevelopment. On the other side, Gwich’in people in Alaskaand Canada who rely on the herd are adamant that thearea should remain undisturbed. They are backed bythe Canadian government.

The calving grounds are in a protected area called theArctic National Wildlife Refuge. For the past several years,bills have been introduced in Washington in an attemptto open up the refuge to development. Each time, theattempts have been staved off, but the votes have oftenbeen very close. I once asked a representative of an Alaskanconservation organization how she felt after winning oneof these votes. She was surprisingly glum; “We never win,”she said, “We just put off losing.”

The debate over development in the calving grounds is becoming more pointed. The Porcupine herd numbered about 178,000 in 1989. It is now estimated ataround 110,000. Like other central Arctic herds, it isdeclining. At the same time, the American governmentis pushing ‘energy security’ as a priority, which includesthe development of any available oil and gas reserves inthe United States, in an attempt to reduce U.S. relianceon foreign fuels.

In 2003, Karsten Heuer and Leanne Allison, travellingon foot and by skis, followed the Porcupine Caribou herdfor more than 1,500 kilometres from Yukon Territory to Alaska. Later, they went to Washington to brief U.S.politicians on their experiences. Karsten wrote about theirexperiences in a book, Being Caribou. The followingtwo excerpts are from that book.

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“Leanne and I had few expectations when we walked up the marble steps and into the first of four meetings with senators and congressmen, but we were nonetheless disappointed when it was an aide who sat down with us instead of the decisionmaker himself.

“You’ve got five minutes,” she explained, pointing outside the door to the full room where men in suits of all sizes and stripes waitedtheir turn. The American Automakers Association, Focus on the Family, the National Rifle Association — we were just two morepeople in an endless stream of lobbyists she had to listen to as we championed yet another cause. Searching for the right words to putinto the right sentences, Leanne and I did our best to give an overview of what we’d learned about caribou on our trip.

The aide looked interested at first; she even wrote something down when we mentioned the skittish cows on the calving grounds,but soon her leg was going again, bobbing in time with the second hand on the clock. We tried everything to pull her back,telling her about the bugs and wolves in the hopes she might conclude the caribou already went through enough, but when it came to oil development, her mind was made up.

She pushed the small stack of photos back toward me and slid back her chair. “That sounds like a wonderful trip,” she said,“but the bottom line for voters on this issue is cheap gas.”

“Pardon me?” I asked, unsure I’d heard right.

“I know it sounds terrible,” she apologized, “but it’s true.”

The shock of what she said had worn off by the time we emerged on the outside steps an hour later, and in its place was frustration and despair. None of the other aides we’d met with had been as forthright as her, but behind their doublespeakwas the same message. I looked out at the lines of traffic crawling past, at the limousines idling in the parking lot, and concluded that if change was what we wanted, then we had to take a different tack.

“We need to work from the bottom up,” I said to Leanne. “We need these people to feel the pressure from the voters. We need them to understand the real costs of cheap fuel.”

I waited for her answer, for some sort of agreement, but she was too busy wiping her eyes.” (p. 229)

From Being Caribou: Five Months on Foot with an Arctic Herd by Karsten Heuer, now available in bookstores. Reprinted bypermission of McClelland and Stewart Ltd. �

The Porcupine herd crosses a frozen river.

Photo: Karsten Heuer

By John A . Nagy, Senior BiologistDepartment of Environment and Natural ResourcesGovernment of the Northwest Territories

In the 1960s and 1970s, wildlife biologists thought therewas a single herd of caribou that ranged along the ArcticCoast between the Mackenzie delta in the west, Kugluktukto the east, and south to Great Bear Lake. In 1994, as part of a ‘Bluenose’ barren-ground caribou herdmanagement planning and environmental impact assess-ment process, biologists looked back at surveys completedbetween 1966 and 1993 and realized there were threecalving areas within the range of the ‘Bluenose’ caribouherd. Caribou management has been based on the herdconcept, where herds are identified based on their use oftraditional calving grounds.Applying this approach, biolo-gists in the NWT thought thatthere were two, and possiblythree, herds within the rangeof the ‘Bluenose’ caribou herd.Satellite tracking and geneticstudies undertaken between1996 and 2006 strongly sup-ported the idea there were three herds instead of one. The western-most herd becameknown as the Cape Bathurstherd, after its calving area. Theherd that calves in Tuktut NogaitNational Park became known asthe Bluenose-West. The lastherd, the Bluenose-East, calvesin the area of the Rae andRichardson rivers betweenBluenose Lake and Kugluktuk,in Nunavut.

Once biologists realized theywere actually looking at threeherds, they went back over oldcaribou counts to try to work

36

out the population trends in the separate herds. Theseanalyses indicated there were approximately 14,500 adultCape Bathurst caribou in 1987, and 17,500 in 1992. TheBluenose-West herd was estimated at 98,900 adult caribou in 1987, and 64,700 in 1992. There were notenough caribou collared to estimate the size of theBluenose-East herd during these years.

The first photo-census surveys specifically designed to estimate the size of the three herds were done duringsummer 2000. The results of these surveys indicated theCape Bathurst herd had declined from about 17,500 to10,000 adult caribou between 1992 and 2000. However,the caribou were not as well-grouped as in most years so it was difficult to estimate their numbers. By 2005

this herd had declined to about2,400 adult caribou. Thedecline continued into 2006,when there were about 1,800adult caribou in the herd.

The size of the Bluenose-West herd dropped fromapproximately 98,900 to about 64,700 in 1992. The estimatesof herd size for 1992 and 2000were not significantly different,suggesting the population wasstable during this period.However, by 2005 this herd wasdown again to approximately20,800 adult caribou. Thedecline continued to 2006,when the herd was estimated atabout 18,000 adult caribou.

The Bluenose-East herd wasestimated at 104,000 adult caribou in 2000, but by 2005this herd had dropped to 68,300 adult caribou. In 2006this herd was also down again,to about 65,100 adult caribou.

The caribou in some barren-ground caribou

herds form large groups during late June

and early July for insect relief. This behaviour

provides biologists with an opportunity to

accurately count these herds. Caribou in these

herds are given radio collars during the win-

ter before the summer when a photocensus is

to be undertaken. The movements of these

collared caribou can then be tracked during

late June and early July. Once the caribou have

formed large groups, they are photographed.

The caribou in the photographs are counted

and herd size is estimated using the ratio of

the number of collared caribou photographed

versus the number of collared caribou avail-

able in the herd.

Plummeting Numbers: The Mysterious Decline of the ArcticCoast Herds

37

What is driving these alarming drops is not known for sure.Various factors likely contributed to the decline. Some ofthese herds had been near their historic highs for 10 to 15years during the 1980s and 1990s. We know barren-ground caribou populations cycle over a 30-to-40-yearperiod, so in part the declines may be attributed to thisnatural factor. This has been exacerbated by a number ofother events. Between 2000 and 2005 the majority ofcows in the Bluenose-West herd calved during the thirdweek in June, approximately two weeks later than normal.Similarly, in the Bluenose-East herd we saw many cowswith one-to-two-week-old calves as late as 17 July 2005,indicating that these cows are calving in early July. Thisis almost one month later than normal. Late calving likelyresults in fewer calves surviving to the end of next summer and into the following spring; the fact that cowshave been calving later than normal for a number of yearssuggests they are not getting in good enough conditionto breed in early October. This may be the effect of poorerfood on the summer range, or increased insect harass-ment during the summer months, or both.

In fall 2003, the coastal areas from Alaska to Kugluktuk,Nunavut, experienced icing conditions. Ice on the landformed a barrier between the caribou and their food. Some

radio-collared cows of the Cape Bathurst and Bluenose-West herds wintered as far south as Colville Lake, NT,and south of Great Bear Lake, NT, respectively. Based onthe patterns of collared cows in these herds during theprevious seven years, these were unusual movements.These animals may have been exposed to higher pred-ation rates in their new environments. The stress ofmigrating longer distances to calving grounds may haveincreased adult and calf mortality.

Hunting may also be taking a toll. Harvest patterns havechanged in many communities during the last 10 years.In recent years, cows have made up most of the cariboutaken. Removal of cows from a population during periods when calf survival is low accelerates herd declines.

Continued disturbance resulting from some developmentactivities coupled with hunting activities may reduce thebody condition of cows on winter ranges. When cows arein poor condition, their calves are less likely to survivethan when the cows are in good to excellent condition.

In combination, these factors and others are responsiblefor the declines of the three coastal herds. Recovery ofthese herds will likely require conservative managementover the next 10 to 15 years. �

The Hunters and Trappers Committee in Tuktoyaktuk has recommended a two-year ban on hunting the Cape Bathurst herd.

Photo: Peary caribou photographed by SD MacDonald. Reproduced with permission of Canadian Museum of Nature, Ottawa, Canada.

James Pokiak sees the question of declining caribou populations from at least two perspectives: He is anindigenous subsistence hunter and also the proprietor of his own business, Pokiak Guiding and Outfitting,which caters to hunters from elsewhere. Pokiak lives on the Arctic coast in Tuktoyaktuk, just east of the Mackenzie delta. It is in the range of one of the herds that has undergone the steepest decline of all ofthe Northwest Territories’ herds, the Cape Bathurst, and another herd that has been faltering, the BluenoseWest. It is along this same stretch of coastline that oil and gas companies are planning to develop gasfields to feed the proposed Mackenzie Valley pipeline.James Pokiak spoke with Northern Perspectives editorClive Tesar.

In Tuktoyaktuk, what have you been seeing in terms of caribou numbers?

They do show a big decline, but I think it’s all part of thenatural cycle. I think part of this is that they only countthe caribou every five years. I think if they counted themevery year, they would find that the declines are not asdrastic as they are being painted.

38

How important are the herds to local people?

Very important. It’s been a traditional use for thousandsof years. We’ve always been managing our own species;providing you only take what you need, it shouldn’t havesuch an impact as they’re telling us it has.

What do you think are the reasons for the decline?

I think it’s partly migration changes. There’s not manybush trappers like there used to be, so there’s not manytrails coming back out of the treeline to the coast. I thinkthat has a bit to do with it. I spent many years at theAnderson River area, on my traplines. And on my traplinetrails, there was always caribou that followed my trail. Soif there are no trails off the treeline, depending on thesnow level, then the caribou will just stay where gettingto food is easier for them.

There are recommendations being made now to close hunt-ing completely on the Cape Bathurst herd, and to restricthunting on the Bluenose herds, what effect would that have?

Well, it’s not in law yet, but in Tuk we’ve designated a couple of areas where there is no limit. On the Tuk

The Start of the Pipe: The View fromTuktoyaktuk

There is no doubt that wolves are responsible for many caribou kills, but the consensus seems to be that the current declines are being driven by more than predators.

Photo: Peary caribou photographed by SD MacDonald. Reproduced with permission of Canadian Museum of Nature, Ottawa, Canada.

39

peninsula, there is a mixture of reindeer and caribou. Andthere is still a small number we can take from the Bluenose-West herd, about 4%. Hopefully that’s what we’ll get, butthat’s got to be distributed across the user groups.

Is there a concern that hunting restrictions will continue?

I think there is going to be until the numbers come upagain. People are leery about the levels they can harvest.We’re really trying to educate our people into looking atalternative food sources such as moose and muskox. We dohave some muskox and moose in our area, not so manymoose, but we do have access to the areas that they use. Themuskox are far away, but some of us go in the springtime,and that’s a way for us to make up for the lack of caribou.

What options do you have? You spoke of another mixed cari-bou reindeer population, how long can that sustain people?

That depends on how sustainably people harvest them.When this whole issue came about, they didn’t even know

there was a herd on the Tuk peninsula. By pressure from our community, we got ENR to do a survey. Thefirst year, there was about 60% caribou and the restwere reindeer; now they say there’s more reindeer, andnobody knows where the reindeer are coming from.

What other actions do you think should be taken to help thecaribou recover?

ENR has been trying to persuade us to harvest youngbulls, but the best time to do that is in the fall-time, beforethe rut, when they’re healthy and fat. If they want us toconcentrate on harvesting young bulls and stressing thatwe should leave the cows alone, then they should providesome kind of funding for us to access those areas in thefall. It’s a long ways, a two-day boat ride, or you need anaircraft, and that’s really expensive. So if they want us toharvest young bulls, then they need to provide assistanceto the communities so they can access young bulls inthe fall-time.

On top of the natural decline, you have the prospect of apotential increase in oil and gas activity. How will thataffect the caribou?

I do have a really big concern regarding that issue. They’replanning to build some processing facilities in the middle of prime wintering habitat of the caribou. We hada meeting with ENR last week regarding the woodlandcaribou, where it shows right across Canada, the wood-land caribou, like in northern Alberta, the caribou areavoiding those areas; they don’t go there any more. Thattells me when industrial activity happens, the caribou findother areas to go to. In the Constance Lake area, they’retalking about a big project and building an airstrip. Wedon’t want to see that airstrip because of the increase oftraffic that will go into that area.

So what do you want to see happen?

We’ve been telling them, rather than build an airstrip,they should take advantage of the existing airstrips inInuvik and Tuk, and help us to build an all-weather road.The road would have a minimal impact on the herds butat least they’d be able to cross freely.

But the noise would have a big effect. They tell us thatthey would only do that for two or three years until the production facilities are built. But if you destroy primehabitat of wintering grounds of the caribou, that will have a big effect. And we’ve seen with the caribou innorthern Alberta that industrial activity does have a big effect. �

Dene lawsThe Sahtu Renewable Resources Board covers a

region along the Mackenzie River Valley from

north of Wrigley to the south of the Mackenzie

Delta, and from the Yukon border in the west to

the Nunavut border in the east. The Board is about

to go on a tour of the five Sahtu communities to

explain what actions the board has recommended

to the ministers. The board has boiled down its

advice to what it calls “Dene laws”.

• Take only what you need

• Harvest fewer cows

• Monitor harvests

• Reduce wastage

• Educate, educate, educate

As a final point, the board plans to remind peo-

ple that “With rights come responsibilities.”

Making a Bequest

CARC has established an Arctic Futures Fund. All bequestsare put into this fund and invested. Over time, the ArcticFutures Fund will become our war chest to help us dealwith pressing environmental and other issues, includingcourt action. Please consider making a bequest to CARCin your will. If you would like additional details on theArctic Futures Fund and how to make gifts to CARC, pleasecontact the Ottawa office at 613-759-4284 or e-mail usat info@carc.org.

© Canadian Arctic Resources Committee Inc. 2007. Quotation withappropriate credit is encouraged.Second Class Mail Registration No. 459828

The Canadian Arctic Resources Committee is a non-profitorganization with offices at:

Yellowknife Office:Box 1705 Yellowknife, NWT X1A 2P3and488 Gladstone Ave. Ottawa, Ontario K1R 5N8 Telephone: 613-759-4284 Fax: 613-759-4581Toll free: 1-866-949-9006E-mail: info@carc.org Website: www.carc.org

This edition of Northern Perspectives was edited by Clive Tesar.

Back issues of Northern Perspectives may be obtained from the CARCOttawa office at a cost of $20 each.

ISSN: 0380-5522

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