Stalking Sitka Blacktails

It was a clear October morning, and Ken Mayer and I nosed the windows of the twin-engine plane like kids on a field trip. The lakes and ponds below reflected the high cumulus clouds of the new day. A patchwork of fog hung in reluctant rags over the bays and estuaries against a backdrop of spectacular snow-capped peaks that rose from the sea.

It is during the fall that the last runs of silver salmon enter the rivers and one of the largest carnivores on earth fattens himself for the long winter ahead. It's also when the cold, crisp air and shorter days of autumn trigger the first signs of the rut in Sitka blacktail deer, and we had traveled to the emerald isle known as Kodiak to hunt Sitka blacktails.

As the aircraft made its final approach into Old Harbor, I spotted a doe and fawn on a hillside less than a half-mile from the landing strip. The sight of our intended quarry put anticipation in high gear, and when the door of the aircraft opened, we nearly stumbled over each other getting out. Our feet were on solid ground for less than 30 seconds when our host, Jeff Petersen, emerged from the small crowd that had gathered to meet the plane. After the customary greetings, we grabbed our gear, loaded it in the van and five minutes later we were in the lobby of the Sitkalidak Lodge.

After a long trip, a good night's rest was in order, and after dinner we wasted no time getting there. The next morning we boarded Jeff's 24-foot SeaSport before first light. A 30-minute run brought us to Sitkalidak Island, a 23-mile-long island owned by the Old Harbor Native Corporation. We anchored in a deep fjord in the center of the island, and it wasn't long before the skiff was in the water and heading to the beach. The ATVs were waiting, and Jeff had an area in mind on the east side of the island where he'd seen several bucks. After stopping to glass a couple of hillsides, we arrived at Jeff's chosen spot.

In the first 15 minutes, we located 20 deer--including four bucks. There didn't seem to be any rutting activity going on, and the bucks were still alone or with other bucks. Two of the bucks we'd spotted were relatively close; the other two were toward the top of the ridge.

As luck would have it, the two nearby bucks were small, but the two distant animals looked pretty good. Even though it would take some effort, Ken and I were elated at the prospects. Jeff was disappointed, though, and said under normal conditions we should see at least twice as many deer. A serious winter kill had occurred in 1998-99, and half of Kodiak Island's blacktail population had died.

Perspective
Deer numbers can be a matter of perspective, and we were thrilled by how many deer we were seeing. We figured it would take at least an hour to climb to where the two decent bucks were, and we hoped they would bed down and give us some time to get into position. We pulled on our packs and tightened our boot laces, and Jeff sent us packing. In Alaska, the role of a transporter is distinctly different from a guide. It is perfectly legal for transporters like Jeff (Kodiak Combos, P.O. Box 141, Old Harbor, AK 99643; 907/286-2252) to take you to a hunting area and point you in the right direction. However, a transporter cannot guide for big game; that's the domain of registered guides.