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The Fish and Wildlife Service project is part of a continuing effort to advance biologists' understanding of the polar bear and assess potential new threats against the creature. Researchers, for example, are most concerned about the impact of increasing oil and gas exploration in the Arctic. Another concern comes from the Soviet Union, which has proposed to lift its 35-year- old ban on polar bear hunting. Many of western Alaska's bears migrate as much as 1,609 km (1,000 miles) to set up winter dens in the Soviet Union. U.S. and Soviet biologists are working together to find out how many bears migrate in this fashion to ensure that one country does not undermine the conservation efforts of the other.
In search of the bears, the Fish and Wildlife Service has dispatched scientists to some of the most remote regions of the U.S. One expedition earlier this year was based on St. Lawrence Island's desolate expanse of tundra and mountains rising out of the Bering Sea. In Savoonga, an Eskimo village on the edge of the frozen sea, researchers lived in a bunkhouse with no running water and snow drifts above the windowsills. "We're stretching everything to the limit in terms of safety to accomplish these research objectives," says Larry Pank of the Alaska Wildlife Research Center. "We have a real interest in ensuring we have a polar bear population at the same or similar levels 50 or 100 years from now."
Many of the pilots and mechanics have Vietnam combat experience. "Most of these guys have been shot out of the air a time or two. That's valuable experience if you have a mechanical problem," says biologist Garner. Pilot Paul Walters flew low-level reconnaissance in Vietnam. Before taking off to track polar bears, he tells any neophyte on board that if the chopper crashes, survivors should kick out the glass, retrieve the orange survival bag and activate the emergency transmitter.
"Risk goes with the territory," says biologist Tom McCabe, who lost a third of his arm to shrapnel in Vietnam. If another bear charges while he is examining a bear, he will try to scare it off with Teflon bullets. If that fails, he has a shotgun and a .44 Magnum pistol in a shoulder holster. "The polar bear is the ultimate predator," he says. "He doesn't seem to fear anything." Alaska polar bear expert Jack Lentfer remembers how a bear that was thought to have been tranquilized suddenly reared up and chased him. When the bear was almost upon him, a colleague shot the animal. "It would have chewed me up," says Lentfer.
"You develop a fatalistic attitude. If something happens, it happens," says Garner. He has handled 250 polar bears -- and 450 grizzly bears. At times he resembles a bear. He stands 6 ft. 2 in., weighs 225-plus lbs., chomps cigars through a wild beard and is girded in layer upon layer of insulated clothing, topped off with a beaver hat. He has little time for worry. Mornings he contacts Anchorage for the latest satellite fixes on his bears. During the day, he tracks and collars the animals. Each is subjected to an exhaustive exam. A tooth is removed to determine age. Vials of blood are drawn for immunological and genetic study. A hole is punched in the ear for an identification tag. A number is tattooed on the bear's upper lip. A snippet of fur is cut. At night Garner spins bear blood in a centrifuge, readies his darts and cleans the barrels of his shotguns.