Among Wolves: Gordon Haber's Insights into Alaska's Most Misunderstood Animal Read online

  His approach and methods were, to some, old-fashioned. Others, such as National Park Service biologist Tom Meier, admired Haber for “doing really tough and grueling work.” Rather than dart and radio-collar the wolves and then, from the comfort of a warm, dry office, chart their movements into a computer-generated set of data points, Haber studied wolves the way Jane Goodall studied chimpanzees, George Schaller the Himalayan bharal and snow leopards, and Dian Fossey mountain gorillas. He went into the field, to where they lived, and observed them; he hunkered down in a blind, he hiked or skied across tundra, he transected the park in a small plane in subzero weather. He spent large, uninterrupted periods of time among wolves.

  In summer, he worked on foot, backpacking in to blinds to observe established dens and rendezvous sites. He was patient, sitting for nine or more hours a day, hoping for a chance to observe the wolves at the den, to record the emergence of the year's new pups, to document subtle interactions between family members. Winter required a different method, since the wolves traveled almost constantly. In the early years, he traveled into the park by snowshoe or skis, searching for wolf tracks. Later, he used a small fixed-wing aircraft, spending three to ten hours a day on flights. He flew low over Denali's tundra, looking for and then circling close overhead as the wolves padded across tundra, chased moose, and had stand-offs with brown bears. All the while, the wolves went about their daily lives, unconcerned by the large noisy bird overhead and unharmed by the scientist in that bird who devoted his life to learning about them.

  His field notebooks show meticulous minute-by-minute observations not just of wolves but of every aspect of Denali: thunderstorms moving through, the timing of wildflower blooms, clusters of ptarmigan in fall, the scent of willow in springtime. In these notes he leaves behind an untapped wealth of information for scientists, naturalists, and lovers of wilderness. He recorded not just data but the wildness and beauty all around. There is no other such set of comprehensive scientific field notes collected over several decades from Denali National Park. This scientific approach—observing the study subject in the context of the entire ecosystem, and using nonintrusive, slow-paced, on-the-ground methods—may be increasing in popularity as researchers recognize the complexity of wildlife social dynamics and ecosystem interactions.

  Piloting Dr. Haber

  Haber's winter flights required exceptional piloting both because of the conditions around North America's highest peak and because of the difficulties of finding and then staying with wolves. Pilots had to fly at low altitudes over quickly rising terrain where turbulence and downdrafts were common. Gary Baker, who worked in Denali National Park during Haber's first summer and went on to make his living as a commercial pilot, said, “The weather up there gets your attention real quick.” Recalling a time he flew his own small plane near Mount McKinley, he said, “I went up from eight thousand feet to thirteen thousand feet quicker than you can blink. It was like riding an elevator, that altimeter just spinning.”

  Haber worked with some of Alaska's best pilots, including Don Sheldon, Chalon Harris, and Troy Dunn. When he crashed to his death, it was with a new pilot who had flown with Haber only twice before. After flying over a ridge, the pilot reversed direction, ran into turbulence and downdrafts, and slammed into the mountainside. The plane caught fire and the pilot, badly burned, hiked out to the road and survived; Haber's ashes were identified in the charred remains. Two days before, Haber had told a friend he was worried about the new pilot's skills.

  Groups, Not Packs

  As he studied wolves, Haber increasingly realized how wolf social behavior paralleled early human social behavior. He became convinced that these close parallels offered opportunities for humans to learn more about themselves, such as the origin of human aggression; efficient forms of social organization, behavior, and governance; and dominance in relationships. Perhaps the most intriguing parallel was between human and wolf family structures. Early on in his research, he realized the importance of the thread of temporal and familial continuity to every aspect of a wolf's life. This initial idea was so rich that it propelled his research for the rest of his life. As he collected decades' worth of information on the same wolf groups, his convictions about the significance of individual wolves and intact wolf family groups grew.

  As Haber said in a 1991 interview in Alaska magazine, “The wolf just isn't one animal. It usually can't survive for long alone. It is ten or twenty animals—typically an extended family—all acting as one in order to survive. Most biologists still take a superficial, numbers-based view of what constitutes a healthy wolf population. They say that you can harvest 30 or 40 percent of a wolf population annually, and it will rebuild to the same level every year. The problem is that wolves have complex societies. It takes a long time, at least several generations, for a family group to reach its societal cruising speed.”

  At some point, to more align his words with his conclusions, and in recognition of the power of language to influence people's attitudes toward wolves, he stopped using the word “pack” and instead began referring to them as “groups” or “family groups.”1 The very term “pack,” he realized, carried connotations about wolves that his observations and field work had simply proven to be false. He concluded that the word “pack” fed the popular and yet erroneous public misconception of wolves as being vicious, malevolent dangers to humans that were little more than indiscriminate killing machines. The term “pack” also seemed to support the caricature by trappers and hunters that wolves were “a snarling aggregation of fighting beasts, each bent on fending only for itself,” so bloodthirsty that they killed for the fun of it. Essentially, the term “pack” gave the impression that wolves operated with the indifference and volatility of a gang of hoodlums, rather than the deliberate social cohesion and highly evolved cooperation that he observed during decades of field research.

  Standing Up for Wolves

  Every so often Haber landed in the news: In 1994 he recorded a video of a trapped wolf, the leg bloody where the wolf had tried to chew himself free.2 This video helped close down the state's “saturation snaring” predator control program, even though the state continues to teach this method to trappers, which Haber likened to “the land-based equivalent of high-seas drift-net fishing” for its indiscriminate killing and lingering deaths.

  At the 1993 Wolf Summit convened by Governor Walter Hickel, Haber met Priscilla Feral, director of the international animal rights group Friends of Animals. From that meeting until he died seventeen years later, Friends of Animals funded Haber's research. Feral kept a hands-off approach, according Haber complete control over his research priorities. Said Johnny Johnson, “Those were happy years for Gordon because he didn't have to worry about funding. He could do the work he wanted to do.”

  In 1997 he freed a snared wolf, for which the trapper sued him. The wolf was wearing a radio collar from the Yukon–Charley Rivers National Preserve and was snared just outside the park boundary.3 The snare holding the wolf was surrounded by caribou carcasses; such baiting is illegal, so Haber contacted ADF&G, who said they'd free the wolf. When they did not, he contacted them and freed it himself. ADF&G later denied this agreement, however, and claimed Haber's actions were illegal. The state investigated both the trapper and Haber but declined to file any charges. Haber offered to pay the trapper a thousand dollars for the wolf, more than twice what the trapper would have made from the pelt, but instead the trapper sued and won a total of $190,000. Because he was under contract with them, Friends of Animals paid the fine. Still, this deeply affected Haber, said his friend Johnny Johnson, because he could have lost everything. The trial was held in the trapper's hometown of Tok, where sentiments against Haber had been running high for a long time. During the trial, a man stood up and yelled that they should take Haber outside and tar and feather him.

  Fearless Dissenter

  Though he advocated for wolves in political and institutional realms, Gordon Haber was, above all, a scientist—one who
never forgot the initial sense of wonder, curiosity, and excitement that drew him to study wolves. He was never afraid of drawing conclusions from his research, or of voicing those conclusions. He was always an independent scientist, receiving funding from a variety of government and nongovernmental sources. Very few scientists today have the kind of academic freedom that Haber had—most work either for corporations or for academic or government institutions, all of which place limits, whether covert or not, on what scientists do and say.

  Dr. Haber was a classic dissenter: a renowned wolf expert considered by many worldwide to be a hero but considered by many in Alaska—state officials and biologists, trappers and hunters—to be a thorn in their side that would not go away. At least in Alaska, as he said in a 1991 interview, “I do disagree with just about everyone in the business.” Dr. Haber was so openly reviled that when his death was reported, some hunting and trapping blogs lit up in celebration.

  The history of science is strewn with those whose ideas are at first ridiculed but ultimately turn out to be correct, such as that Earth revolves around the sun, organisms evolve, and MRI can locate cancerous tissue in the human body. In all fields of endeavors, dissenters have been despised, ignored, and persecuted, but their insights and conclusions have often been essential to change and innovation. Haber's insights into the social dynamics of wolf family groups have yet to be broadly accepted; when they are, it will change not only wildlife management, but also the way we relate to wolves at every level.

  Dr. Haber worked from what Mahatma Gandhi called satyagraha: holding to the truth, speaking truth to power. He did this, time and again, regardless of the consequences to him personally and professionally. But as voltaire wrote, “Those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing the new road.”

  Book Structure and Sources

  The primary chapters of Among Wolves are written by Haber himself, compiled and edited from his articles, blog, reports, scientific papers, field notes, and a book proposal. Fueled by his passion for communicating what he'd learned about wolves, Haber was at ease writing for a wide array of audiences.4 The first chapters describe what Haber learned about the wolves themselves, and later chapters reveal how he applied research conclusions to management and exploitation issues in Denali, Alaska, and the western United States.

  While this book's material is drawn from Haber's numerous scientific publications, this is not intended to be a scientific document; for readers who want more data and details, Haber's papers are available through his blog (www.alaskawolves.org) and at the Alaska Resources Library and Information Service (ARLIS) in Anchorage, Alaska, where all his materials are archived. This book provides an overview of his career among Denali's wolves, a sense of his character and life in the field, firsthand accounts of his observations of wolves, his conclusions from those observations, and his recommendations for changes to wildlife management.

  The book also includes Haber's photographs. Most were taken while in flight, so that motion and distance make some photographs less sharp, but they record the daily lives of Alaska's wolves as no other visual record has, including behaviors never before documented. One series of photographs shows a young wolf teaching pups how to safely cross a river. In another set of aerial photographs, a wolf group skirmishes with a brown bear.

  In Haber's own words and photographs, we learn what his prolonged observations of wolves have to teach us: how family group members work together, assist one another, teach, learn, and communicate; how territory and hunting knowledge is passed down from one generation to the next; how other animals, including prey, competing predators, and other species, interact with wolves; how the presence of humans affects wolf families; and how human hunting and trapping alter the family structures, social behaviors, traditions, and integrity of wolf groups.

  From those who knew him best and longest, we learn about his character—what helped him endure, not only working in a challenging wilderness, but working among colleagues and officials with whom he often disagreed. Though many in Alaska openly despised him, many others hailed him as a hero, and a friend. Haber's friendships were enduring, many of them formed in his first few summers in Alaska. During the years that Troy Dunn flew for him, said Dunn, a sort of competition arose between him and Johnny Johnson over who would get to have Haber over for Thanksgiving dinner. These stories by friends and colleagues make up a sort of oral history of adventures in Denali National Park from 1966 to today. As well, this medley of voices provides a glimpse of Haber's larger community and parallels his essential point about wolves—that they, like humans, can fully exist only in community.

  Finally, though Gordon Haber may have lived in a simple cabin without indoor plumbing, he also appreciated any new technology that would help him reach a wider audience with his message about the value of unexploited wild wolves. For this reason we have included tweets he sent out in the last year of his life, along with excerpts from his field notes and journal notes—brief windows into the days he spent in his beloved Denali, among the wolves.

  * * *

  The First Two Years of Life of an Alaska Wolf

  Late February/Early March

  Alpha female and alpha male engage in courtship and mating.

  Early/Mid-May

  Pups are born in their natal den—as many as nine pups in a litter.

  Late May/Early June

  Pups emerge from the natal den for the first time. The rest of the family group cuddles, cleans, and plays with them.

  July

  Pups are weaned and spend more time out of the den. Adults may take pups on short walks. Adults hunt at night and return in the morning to a welcoming chorus-howl, bringing food from distant kills.

  July/August

  To prepare pups for winter travel, adult wolves may move pups between dens and rendezvous sites or to nearby kills.

  Late September/October

  Pups leave dens behind and begin their nomadic winters, traveling regularly with older family members.

  September through November

  Pups are in “hesitation and fear” stage of traveling and hunting and need constant help and prodding from adult wolves. Pups begin learning hunting traditions and territories.

  December/January

  Pups progress to the “foolhardy boldness” stage of hunting.

  February/March

  Pups stand by as alpha pair mates, and then help prepare the natal den for the next litter of siblings.

  May

  Now a year old, pups progress to the third stage of hunting skills: contributing effectively to the group, albeit with less skill and more hesitancy than experienced adults.

  May/June

  Yearlings eagerly await the appearance of the new siblings, who have been seen up to now only by the mother and any other females who are cooperatively nursing.

  June

  New pups emerge, and yearlings play with them, perhaps also pup-sitting them while other, more experienced adults go off to hunt. Yearlings also help on hunts to provide for pups.

  September

  As the family begins their nomadic ways again, yearlings help the new pups navigate streams and other first-time adventures.

  September through May

  In their second winter, yearlings continue to learn hunting skills and territories, including boundaries and prey locations. They remain less adept at hunting and scavenging than adults.

  June

  With another round of siblings, the two-year-olds help even more, perhaps even lactating and helping to nurse the new litter.

  September

  Entering their third winter, the two-year-olds have learned their territory and have become competent hunters, able to fully assist and support the family group. Some may disperse to other areas, but most try to stay with the family group.

  * * *

  1 In the following chapters, where excerpts from his earlier writings have been used, “pack” has been replaced with “group.”
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  2 See his journal entry on this event at the end of chapter 11.

  3 See a photograph of Haber freeing the snared wolf in chapter 12.

  4 Throughout these primary chapters, editorial choices have been made to stay true to Haber's own style and voice.

  CHAPTER 1

  MY GOOD FORTUNE: WORKING AMONG ALASKA'S WOLVES

  THOUGH HE PUBLISHED THE MATERIAL IN THESE CHAPTERS OVER A PERIOD OF forty years, Dr. Haber's formal work in wildlife biology began in 1963 during his undergraduate work at Michigan Technological University, where he received a National Science Foundation Research Assistantship. He quickly immersed himself in the wilds of Isle Royale National Park, assisting in research on geology, bats, and wolf-moose interactions, and in summer working as a fire control ranger. Perhaps through his work on Isle Royale, Haber recognized the importance of studying unexploited wild wolves in concert with their total environment. This was the systems methodology that he espoused and spent the rest of his life encouraging agency managers to adopt, thus placing him squarely and irrevocably engaged with longstanding wolf management issues in his adopted state of Alaska. The last several chapters of this book take up the most significant of these policy issues.