I have some free time this morning, so I'm going to write a few lines on the history of Alaska.
I've tried to gather interesting pieces of information about events and history, the sort of things you won't find in Hungarian reference books or on the news.
Alaska joined the Union on 3rd January 1959, exactly fifty years ago, and became the 49th state. This year they're planning huge celebrations all over the state to mark the anniversary. The name of the state comes from a native word, Alyeska, which means dry land, a big field, and big country. As names go, this is perfect as no-one would accuse it of being small and crowded. The area of dry land amounts to almost 580,000 million sq.miles - it's the largest state in the U.S. - and, according to the census of 2000, has a population of only 626,000. From these facts we can see that the average density of population is about 0.92 people per sq.mile. (that's if my calculations are right). In this part of the world your neighbors do not live next door.
To show how immense the distances are, here are some statistics: the greatest measurement from north to south is 1500 miles, and from east to west 800 miles. For a useful comparison, the distance from Budapest (capital of Hungary) to Moscow is 1230 miles.
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The indigenous people arrived via the land bridge that once existed in the Bering Strait, which enabled them to walk across from Siberia. Nobody denies that the races of the two continents are related. Alaska was dicovered by Vitus Bering, and in the summer of 1741 he anchored his ship at Kodiak Island, famous to hunters for its huge bears. In 1784 the Russians established a permanent settlement on the island, which in 1792 became the administrative center for the area now known as Russian-America. The colonists were constantly fighting with the native peoples, the trade routes were long and dangerous, and on top of all that the Russian Empire was in financial difficulties, all of which made it impossible for them to hold on to their distant colony. The U.S. bought the land and so the Russians left. They didn't sell it for merely for a symbolic sum because of momentary insanity, but because they simply could not afford to finance the military and police authorities needed by this huge country.
Despite all of this, there is still a Russian-speaking minority living in Alaska, and it's easy to find to find a cemetery containing graves bearing Cyrillic lettering, a reminder of Russia's faded glory.
After the deal was done the U.S. flag was raised on 18th October 1867, in what is now Sitka. This is Alaska Day, the most important day of the year up here, and I'm sorry that I'm not going to be here to experience the hospitality of this great state.
The American political elite have never had much of a soft spot for Alaska, which is why it took so long for it to be recognised as an independent state; before that, for decades it had been a territory, without the rights that it would acquire with statehood.
Between the 6th June 1942 and the15th August 1943, there took place one of the least-known battles of the 2nd World War, The Battle of the Aleutian Islands. It's called "The Forgotten Battle" because at the time there were many other conflicts of greater strategic importance and size taking place which have since gone on to dominate the history and memoirs of the period.
The Japanese launched their attack on Alaska mainly to divert the attention of the American forces from the Battle of Midway. On the 3rd June 1942 the Japanese began with a bombing raid on Dutch Harbour, on the island of Unalaska, in which 78 people unfortunately died. On the 6th June enemy troops landed at Kiska, going on to the Attu Islands and taking 42 prisoners who were sent to Japanese prison camps. But in fact, the American Government had already forced the local population to leave their homes, putting them in refugee camps in south Alaska, where, disastrously, no proper provision had been made for them, with the result that the majority died from starvation and disease. This is a dark period of Alaskan history.
On the 11th May 1943 the Americans began their campaign to reclaim Attu, from the airbase on Adak Island. This was made more difficult as the Americans didn't have the correct landing craft, and the
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equipment that had arrived was unsuitable for the local conditions. By the end of the conflict one quarter of the American forces, 549 men, had died in the battle for Attu. As usual, the Japanese refused to surrender, and eventually only 29 were taken prisoner. The others either died fighting or committed suicide.
On the15th August 1943 at the start of Operation Visko, a large American force, including veterans of the Alaskan Combat Intelligence Platoon, (who bore the cheerful nickname "Castner's Cutthroats") arrived in the region. They found Kiska deserted. It turned out that the Japanese had already evacuated their troops on the 28th July, so during the run-up to the operation the Americans had spent a week bombing deserted positions.
That was a brief outline of the Battle of the Aleutian Islands, which perhaps shows that it was yet another battle of the 2nd World War that was pointlless, misguided, expensive and high in casualties.
Alaska's departing governor is Sarah Palin, the Republican Vice-Presidential candidate for 2008.
Now we know the election results, but a small consolation for Sarah might be that her trademark glasses have become a cult object in America, to the delight of both the designer and manufacturer.
But what endears Sarah to hunters is not her glasses, but her policies and ideas on hunting. In 2007
she approved a bounty of $150 for every wolf shot from a helicopter. Sarah has very good connections with the Alaska Dept. of Fish and Game, which is in charge of hunting affairs, and backed by expert opinion, she permitted biologists to shoot wolves from helicopters to regulate their numbers.
In doing this she contravened a 35 year-old federal prohibition.
The militant and ultra-green organisation, The Defenders of Wildlife, prepared for a battle, during the course of which, George Miller, the Representative for California, proposed another federal bill which would have stopped such hunting permanently. Unfortunately for him, a federal judge ruled in 2008
that this type of hunting was legal, though he did set limits to its extent.
What's certain is that I will never hunt a wolf on the ground, let alone from a helicopter, in Alaska or anywhere else in the world. But I'm pleased that Alaska is governed by a woman who supports hunting on a scientific basis, rather than by those misguided environmentalists who want to have all hunting banned. Sarah - who often goes hunting herself - voluntarily ended her term as governor on 26th July 2009, but I truly hope that her ideas will have a lasting effect on the hunting policies of the Alaskan state.
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Her resignation is one of the current mysteries of internal politics in America, and she herself has done little to clarify the matter. There are various theories, one of which is that she is preparing for a presidential bid in 2012. If it happens, and she wins, that will be the end of those organisations advocating control of guns and hunting.
The Alaskan flag is definitely one of the most beautiful in the world. You hardly ever find a flag which sums up a country so simply, completely, clearly and appropriately, and which doesn't force the viewer into attempting to decode various abstract concepts.
In 1926 Alaska held a competition to design its flag. The winner was a 13 year-old boy, Bennie Benson, from the village of Chgnik, and the flag's clarity is probably due to his young age.
The blue ground symbolises the sky, the endless polar nights, the sea, the lakes and the rivers, as well as the Forget-me-not , the state flower. There are eight stars, seven small and one large, all a golden color, referring to the importance of that precious metal in the history of the state. The seven small stars show one the most easily recognizable and best-known constellations of the Northern
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Hemisphere, the Great Bear, which Alaskans can see for months on end during the long, dark polar nights.
The Great Bear also suggests strength and perseverance, virtues without which this remote land would never have been made habitable. The eighth and largest star, placed in the flag's top right corner, is the North Star, which has always guided hunters, explorers and gold-prospectors while they penetrate and travel through the Alaskan wilderness. Alaskans take their flag very seriously, and are so proud of it that even the state anthem is based on it. The title is "Alaska's Flag" and the words were written in 1935, and the music in 1955. The text not only describes the flag, but emphasises the unity between the native population and the later immigrants. It's worth listening to it on youtube.com; it's a beautiful melody.
" Alaska‟s flag – to Alaskans dear,
The simple flag of a last frontier”
(Alaska‟s Flag)
Finally, this morning, I managed to meet up with Eddie, the Alaskan S.C.I. president, and we had breakfast together.
His post is very prestigious because, despite the fact that it is an international organisation, it is mainly an American body, and its presence is visible everywhere. Alaska holds a special place in the American hunting community and its culture. Eddie, however - like every other Alaskan I've met - is an informal and cheerful man and we become friends within minutes. He gives me some interesting facts about local hunting, such as that, in Alaska, 2000 women - that's not a mistake - hunt regularly. The voices of those opposed to hunting get stronger and stronger, but Eddie feels that in Alaska its future is safe. At present he is a state official, but he used to be a professional hunting guide. Sadly, he has never hunted in Hungary, but I made him promise that one day he would come to visit us. On saying goodbye he presents me with a cap, and an invaluable introduction.
The introduction is to Gus Gillespe, who is also one of the top officials of the Alaskan S.C.I., and a co-owner of the Alaskan Fur Exchange. Concerning Gus, they say that everything to do with hunting in Alaska is under his control, including the weather, the movements of animals and even the way the trees grow. Anyone Gus does not know is not worth knowing, and if he cannot arrange it, then it cannot be arranged. He is the central figure of Alaskan hunting and I plan to visit him later today.
After leaving Eddie I go to my first appointment of the day, at the headquarters of Salmon Berry Tours.
I don't have to walk far as their office is on 3rd Avenue, the same as the Hilton: I just have to cross the street. I'm here to meet Candice McDonald who will assist me during the day.
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Today I shall live like a king.
Candice will be my chauffeuse and tour guide, all-in-one; she's a good local organizer and a close friend of Andy's. Besides doing today's program I also have the chance to sort out all my unsolved problems, as they say that for Candice nothing is impossible.
On seeing her vehicle I have to ask myself the question: just how much bigger can American jeeps get? It's not a jeep, it's a monster. It's as large as a truck, but even wider. I open the trunk to find a storage space the size of the deck of an aircraft carrier. I'm nervous about putting my camera in there as I don't think I'll ever find it again - it will be like looking for a needle in a haystack. So, I place a box of excess clothes and equipment, yet to be sent home, beside it. I walk around the jeep (it takes 30
seconds!:)) and climb up into the passenger section which is as big as a coach. Candice is sitting on my left; actually, it might be her or it might not. I haven't got my binoculars.
I shout over to her, asking where we are going first. "To the Alaskan Native Heritage Center" , comes the faint reply out of the distance. The monster starts up surprisingly quietly; it turns out that it's a hybrid. It moves stealthily, and I've never felt so safe, not even in a tank. Candice drives slowly, which I'm happy with, as when this machine gets going, nothing will stop it. The Alaskan Native Heritage Center, as the name suggests, introduces visitors to the culture of the original inhabitants of the land.
Candice tells me that the conflicts between them and the whites are still going on. Beyonds the romantic stories the basic disagreements are still about money.
Oil reserves, possibly the world's largest, lie beneath the native villages. And the natives don't intend handing it over to the whites for nothing. What can I say? If I were them I might feel the same.
Supposedly, large parts of the world's major oil companies are owned by native Alaskans. Here, if you were born in the right place in the right village, you'll never have any financial worries in your life. You will also inherit various privileges allowing you to hunt various species that at times are forbidden to everyone else, along with a number of other hunting advantages. This does not go down well with many influential whites, so keeping the peace between the two groups is not easy.
When we arrive visitors are watching a display of Alaska Native Games, a sort of local olympics.
The exercises might appear simple, but anyone with a minimal knowledge of of sport will recognise the years of practice behind every movement. When the display ends the stage is filled with dancers.
Their only instrument is a drum, but it sounds so sharp that the room seems full of gun-fire. Both performances were superb, but we have to leave to go on to the center's cinema where a film is about to begin!
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The film is based on romanticised ideals of Indian life, but it also accurately depicts the hard existence faced by people living so close to nature; even modern conveniences cannot completely overcome these hardships. The main message of the film is that life in the wilderness is a constant struggle for survival. It's difficult to argue with these sentiments.
Our next stop is the Alaska Aviation Museum, which, as we can tell from the name , tries to bring the world of flying to interested visitors.
The museum is built right next to the float plane airport, so the sound of engines provides the background music. Here we can trace the story of Alaska's unsung heroes, the bush pilots. The name refers to those pilots whose speciality is landing and taking off in remote areas of scrubland, on uneven glaciers, on the taiga, on water, and on temporary runways laid down on distant mountains.
These highly experienced pilots can land their machines in places I wouldn't dare go to even in a jeep.
Originally they used to modify their planes themselves, by strengthening the landing gear. Now real bush-planes are readily available; Andy has one. Each year they organize a competition amongst
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themselves to see who can take off and land within the shortest distance. The last winner managed, after landing, to stop in a shorter space than a car with its modern brakes could. The museum also runs a film, from which I learn that Anchorage is the city where there are the most float planes. The museum also has a restoration workshop which we visit, but even after wandering around for ten minutes we see no sign of anyone.
We could have stolen the entire workshop.
After visiting these two museums I'd like to revise a statement I made in Chicago.
Both of these institutions provide an exciting and entertaining experience for those buying the inexpensive tickets. The non-stop program at the ANHC and the cinema at the Aviation Museum -
where the film begins when the visitor wants, and shows what he wants to see - are both successful examples of how to bring in the public. And the Aviation Museum, for example, also has a flight-simulator, to the delight of all children:here, they learn more about piloting in ten minutes than they would in a week of reading information boards. The planes on display are not cordoned off from the public, but can be touched as - museum staff take note - no real harm can be done to them.
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It's time to visit Gus, the great hunter, so we drive to his shop. He assures me of his support, and says if I ever get stuck, in any way, he will help me out. He gives me two business cards which I carefully put aside as they might prove useful in the future. In his shop I buy a belt of wapati skin, and a buckle made of mammoth tusk. Both are beautiful, high-quality pieces of craftsmanship.
To replace my missing items of equipment Candice and I drive to the to the largest hunting shop in Anchorage, The Sportsman Warehouse. By coincidence, the manager here is also a friend of Eddie's, but unfortunately he's not in. I kiss goodbye to yet more dollars, and more parcels are added to my growing baggage, so afterwards we set off to the post-office. Nerve-racking moments are approaching.
I forgot to mention that the number of boxes I have has now increased to two. The post-office clerk accepts the smaller one without much trouble - there's a slight fuss because it contains a knife - but he won't take the larger one. It's one inch over the maximum size. All attempts at begging and persuasion are in vain. Candice tries everything, but, for now, the parcel is staying in Alaska. Those clerks will drive me to my grave. Candice suddenly has a flash of inspiration: there's a huge box in her office, but it's still smaller than this; we can repack everything into it. We jump into the car and go straight to her headquarters. We find the box, but it's too small. It doesn't matter; what won't fit into it I'll leave with Candice, or give to a local charity. Candice will see to it all.
By the time we finish the post-office has closed.
I think I'll go crazy: I'm leaving tomorrow and what am I going to do with this box?
The wonderful Candice has a solution: I mustn't worry, she will post it tomorrow! Huge Relief! I leave her some money for any expenses, and I'll sort the rest out on my return to Anchorage.
The ordeals that a hunter has to go through!
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Alaska, Seward
Van Guilder Hotel