Food for the soul
Caribou hunting is more than just sport

Daniel MacIsaac
Northern News Services

NNSL (Feb 22/99) - Two very different men in two very different parts of the Arctic hold some surprisingly similar views on caribou hunting and the current state of the herds.

Watching the herds

The Bathhurst and Bluenose Caribou herds are rife with spies.

Nineteen cows from the Bathhurst Caribou herd and five from the Sahtu sport satellite collars that transmit weekly data on the herd's whereabouts.

"It helps the communities know where the caribou are every week and we've found the information we're receiving is very much in-line with what the elders tell us," caribou biologist Anne Gunn said.

Gunn, who is employed by Resource, Wildlife and Economic Development, said the program is co-ordinated to include traditional knowledge from the Dogrib Nation on caribou routes.

"Our work is kind of a snapshot of where the caribou are travelling," Gunn said. "Really, we're reliant on elders to complete the historic and future big picture of caribou."

She said some of the collared animals have been lost to wolf kills. There are a number of caribou with collars still transmitting but the batteries in the units are expected to die in about 18 months. Gunn doesn't know if the program will continue once that happens. The technology is expensive and they must purchase the satellite information they're utilizing.

"The communities use the information we collect to know where the caribou are each week. We also use the data for environmental assessments so the government and companies working in the areas know where the caribou are," Gunn said.

"Judging by the requests we've had for information, I think there's a lot of people who would be happy if we were allowed to keep going."

The report for the week of Feb. 10 pinpointed the majority of the herd between Gameti (Rae) Lakes and Wekweti (Snare) Lake. A smaller group is clustered just south of Great Bear Lake.

Both say the hunt is more a philosophy than a sport and that the role of gasoline is not to be underestimated. John Algiak has lived his whole life in Kugluktuk and describes himself as "not old enough to collect a pension but getting there slowly -- about 40." He said that while hunting means securing food for his family, there is much more to it than simple survival.

"The best part of hunting is to get out of town, to stay overnight in the country," he said. "It's about seeing the country and being your own boss out there; that's what I like to do."

Jim Claes, 39, hails from Dartmouth, N.S., but has spent many years in remote parts of the Arctic and currently works for the Northern Store in Rae-Edzo. He called hunting his "vice."

"Other guys might go to the tavern or out Ski-Dooing, but I just like to get out on the land and relax and make the best of it," he said.

"I'm not out there for the sport, but to put food on the table," he assured. "I don't have trophies hanging on my wall."

Both men reported a reasonable number of caribou in the vicinity of their communities this month, although as spring approaches, the herds have begun heading back to the barrens, where Algiak said he can hunt year-round. But while the herds remain just a couple of hours away by snowmobile, getting there can be tougher than it might appear.

"Oh, I haven't been out lately," said Algiak. "I'm short of petrol."

"One of the guys wanted me to go out today, but I've got no money for gas," said Claes.

Claes said the typical trip up to the caribou herds around Rae Lakes costs from $80 to $100 in gas. He said he usually makes the trip with aboriginal friends who work as wildlife officers.

"I've been here for two years now and know my way around a little bit, but I still like to go out with the locals," he said.

Claes wasn't a total greenhorn when he came North, however. He grew up hunting deer and snaring rabbits in Nova Scotia.

"They used to call me 'The Rabbit Man' when I moved up here because I had about 45 snares and would keep some for myself and give some away," he said.

Claes said he has embraced the North's wide-open spaces. He said run-ins with what he described as "weekend hunters" who have a penchant for combining shooting and drinking led him to give up on East Coast hunting.

Algiak, too, clearly loves nature and said whenever possible, he'll bring one of his sons along and camp out with a tent and a Coleman stove, even in the middle of winter. And he said he doesn't worry about wolves while he's sleeping.

"I don't think about it," he said. "I just want to be out there."