Sunday, September 12, 2004
Voyage to the end of the World
Voyage to the end of the World: Archaeology on the westernmost Aleutian isle, ATTU. by Virginia Hatfield
revised from the Newsletter of the University of Kansas Department of Anthropology 11(1):1-2, 2000 May
The Aleutian islands form an arc between t.he Pacific and Bering Oceans, extending from the southeastern mainland Alaska. These islands are part of a volcanic belt, also known as the ring of fire, created by the collision of the North Pacific and North American plates. Today, these islands bluster under constant hurricane conditions which sometimes bring snow in June!. The perpetual cloudy, foggy, drizzly, windy weather is so bad that, during WWII, as Japan occupied Attu and attempted to take all of the Aleutians (a diversionary tactic for their south Pacific attack, which ultimately failed at Midway), both the Japanese and the American forces struggled merely to find one another (which usually failed). From circa 4000 years ago until WWII, these islands were occupied by the Aleut, or Unangan, Native Americans who lived on a mosaic of marine resources, accented with migratory waterfowl. Aleut populations were imprisoned in Japan during WWII and, following the war, were relocated to mainland Alaska by the U.S. government. Only in the past three decades and on only a handful of idlands, have Aleuts returned to the islands and made them their home, once more.
The western Aleutian islands have been the target of investigations in the 1990s by an archaeological triad comprised of Dixie West (KU adjunct faculty), Debbie Corbett (U.S. Fish & Wildlife in Anchorage), and Christine Lefevre (MuseĆ© National d’Histoire naturelle, Laboratoire d’Anatomie Comparee in Paris, France). From this early work, the Western Aleutian Archaeological and Paleobiological Project (WAAPP) developed to amend the paucity of substantial (and scientific) archaeological research in this area. WAAPP was funded, for three years, through the NSF Arctic Research Program. My involvement with WAAPP began the second year of the their investigations, the summer of 1998, when West offered me the opportunity to join them in investigations on the north shores of Attu—the westernmost island in the Aleutians, frequently referred to as “the End of the World.” My first trip to the end of the world (and back) was the adventure of a life-time, involving several plane trips, an ocean voyage, and a Coast Guard C-130.
Investigations on Attu focused on the north shore. Here, we were dropped off by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife research vessel, the Tiglax (an Aleut word for eagle). Living in tents, working in the great outdoors battered by wind and rain, we were isolated from other humans only having contact by radio with bird biologists who were also conducting research in these islands. For four short weeks, we surveyed along the coast and identified and excavated village occupations, which have subsequently been dated to between 390 BC and 1780 AD. From village site to village site, we trekked along the beaches. Walking was arduous due to the oft-cursed tussock grasses and the sloping cobble beaches. Only our self made kitchen and lab wooden floors provided flat terrain. Relief was found in the high grounds where our footsteps were cushioned by the sponge-like herb and moss tundra (so soft . . . like a cloud).
Prehistorically, Aleuts occupied and traveled between these subarctic islands. Traces of their well established village sites appeared as large circular pits that were the base for semi-subterranean houses. It is likely that these village sites were seasonally occupied to take advantage of weather patterns—the north side of Attu provided protection from summer gales and the south side provided safe haven in winter. These sites are located near reef systems and close to shore. The steep mountainous landscape prevented movement further into the interior. Our 1998 field season on Attu was an unmitigated success, retrieving useful information on the occupations of the islands.
The following year, the summer of 1999, we (West, Corbett, Lefevre, and myself, as well as two other Americans and three Russian ecologists) attempted to return to Attu to continue investigations. This time, however, the “force” was not with us. While we waited on Shemya island (a mere 30 miles from Attu) for the research vessel Tiglax, already laden with our tools and food, to come and deliver us to Attu, the ship (while working in the central Aleutians, still 400 miles away from us) hit a rock. Although none of the crew or passengers were injured, it was too crippled to make it out to the western Aleutians. A crushing morale blow, as there was no other way to get us to the north shores of Attu. Our field season was too short. We were forced to relocate our endeavors to Adak, located in the central Aleutians. Adak was once a US Navy base and is now in transition back to Aleut ownership. It was near this island that the Tiglax was damaged and where the Tiglax shortly thereafter deposited our shovels, screens, zip-lock bags, steaks and beer!! to lighten its load for its trip to a harbor where repairs were possible. This itself was fortunate—Adak supports a U.S. Fish and Wildlife office and facilities and were happy and willing to assist us in salvaging the remains of our field season.
Our work on Adak identified village sites, reoccupied several times throughout prehistory, and revealed a burial of a 6-year-old Aleut child, which was surrounded by flat stones and wood planks. By request of modern Aleut officials, this child was reburied. The Russian ecologists recovered abundant information regarding past floral and faunal inhabitants (represented in archaeological trash heaps), as well as stratigraphic information allowing reconstruction of past environmental conditions and geological processes. Although we recovered abundant archaeological, geological, and paleobiological information from Adak, the WAAPP project was devastated--left with no feasible way to return to Attu, short of buying our own aircraft carrier. Yet, the WAAPP project will continue, the triad has high hopes of returning to the north shores, but logistics still offer a serious impediment which money alone cannot solve.
revised from the Newsletter of the University of Kansas Department of Anthropology 11(1):1-2, 2000 May
The Aleutian islands form an arc between t.he Pacific and Bering Oceans, extending from the southeastern mainland Alaska. These islands are part of a volcanic belt, also known as the ring of fire, created by the collision of the North Pacific and North American plates. Today, these islands bluster under constant hurricane conditions which sometimes bring snow in June!. The perpetual cloudy, foggy, drizzly, windy weather is so bad that, during WWII, as Japan occupied Attu and attempted to take all of the Aleutians (a diversionary tactic for their south Pacific attack, which ultimately failed at Midway), both the Japanese and the American forces struggled merely to find one another (which usually failed). From circa 4000 years ago until WWII, these islands were occupied by the Aleut, or Unangan, Native Americans who lived on a mosaic of marine resources, accented with migratory waterfowl. Aleut populations were imprisoned in Japan during WWII and, following the war, were relocated to mainland Alaska by the U.S. government. Only in the past three decades and on only a handful of idlands, have Aleuts returned to the islands and made them their home, once more.
The western Aleutian islands have been the target of investigations in the 1990s by an archaeological triad comprised of Dixie West (KU adjunct faculty), Debbie Corbett (U.S. Fish & Wildlife in Anchorage), and Christine Lefevre (MuseĆ© National d’Histoire naturelle, Laboratoire d’Anatomie Comparee in Paris, France). From this early work, the Western Aleutian Archaeological and Paleobiological Project (WAAPP) developed to amend the paucity of substantial (and scientific) archaeological research in this area. WAAPP was funded, for three years, through the NSF Arctic Research Program. My involvement with WAAPP began the second year of the their investigations, the summer of 1998, when West offered me the opportunity to join them in investigations on the north shores of Attu—the westernmost island in the Aleutians, frequently referred to as “the End of the World.” My first trip to the end of the world (and back) was the adventure of a life-time, involving several plane trips, an ocean voyage, and a Coast Guard C-130.
Investigations on Attu focused on the north shore. Here, we were dropped off by the U.S. Fish and Wildlife research vessel, the Tiglax (an Aleut word for eagle). Living in tents, working in the great outdoors battered by wind and rain, we were isolated from other humans only having contact by radio with bird biologists who were also conducting research in these islands. For four short weeks, we surveyed along the coast and identified and excavated village occupations, which have subsequently been dated to between 390 BC and 1780 AD. From village site to village site, we trekked along the beaches. Walking was arduous due to the oft-cursed tussock grasses and the sloping cobble beaches. Only our self made kitchen and lab wooden floors provided flat terrain. Relief was found in the high grounds where our footsteps were cushioned by the sponge-like herb and moss tundra (so soft . . . like a cloud).
Prehistorically, Aleuts occupied and traveled between these subarctic islands. Traces of their well established village sites appeared as large circular pits that were the base for semi-subterranean houses. It is likely that these village sites were seasonally occupied to take advantage of weather patterns—the north side of Attu provided protection from summer gales and the south side provided safe haven in winter. These sites are located near reef systems and close to shore. The steep mountainous landscape prevented movement further into the interior. Our 1998 field season on Attu was an unmitigated success, retrieving useful information on the occupations of the islands.
The following year, the summer of 1999, we (West, Corbett, Lefevre, and myself, as well as two other Americans and three Russian ecologists) attempted to return to Attu to continue investigations. This time, however, the “force” was not with us. While we waited on Shemya island (a mere 30 miles from Attu) for the research vessel Tiglax, already laden with our tools and food, to come and deliver us to Attu, the ship (while working in the central Aleutians, still 400 miles away from us) hit a rock. Although none of the crew or passengers were injured, it was too crippled to make it out to the western Aleutians. A crushing morale blow, as there was no other way to get us to the north shores of Attu. Our field season was too short. We were forced to relocate our endeavors to Adak, located in the central Aleutians. Adak was once a US Navy base and is now in transition back to Aleut ownership. It was near this island that the Tiglax was damaged and where the Tiglax shortly thereafter deposited our shovels, screens, zip-lock bags, steaks and beer!! to lighten its load for its trip to a harbor where repairs were possible. This itself was fortunate—Adak supports a U.S. Fish and Wildlife office and facilities and were happy and willing to assist us in salvaging the remains of our field season.
Our work on Adak identified village sites, reoccupied several times throughout prehistory, and revealed a burial of a 6-year-old Aleut child, which was surrounded by flat stones and wood planks. By request of modern Aleut officials, this child was reburied. The Russian ecologists recovered abundant information regarding past floral and faunal inhabitants (represented in archaeological trash heaps), as well as stratigraphic information allowing reconstruction of past environmental conditions and geological processes. Although we recovered abundant archaeological, geological, and paleobiological information from Adak, the WAAPP project was devastated--left with no feasible way to return to Attu, short of buying our own aircraft carrier. Yet, the WAAPP project will continue, the triad has high hopes of returning to the north shores, but logistics still offer a serious impediment which money alone cannot solve.
Tuesday, September 07, 2004
Love changes everything
Not being completely normal, I had never really thought I would find someone with skewed views which I hold. Lo and behold, at a lesbian "commitment ceremony" in Austin, Texas, I found a man who doesn't mind my hairy legs, does not hope for a fast car or a big house and surrounds himself with books, literally, piled knee high, 3 books deep, along every wall in his apartment. Too good to be true for a book lover like myself. The only two straight, single people at the wedding and both from Lubbock, what were the chances of our meeting? Furthermore, we know so many of the same people in Lubbock. Was it meant to be?
An expert in nutty people (a clinical psychologist), his interest in me equal my interest in him. What are the chances of finding someone so compatible? I had long since given up - as no previous encounter correlated so well. Not that we are entirely blissful, who is? But it is a great comfort to find someone so similar. We are now able to reinforce our liberal ideology, taking turns at railing against Bush, big business, and the materialistic aspirations of the masses - blindly following. We also rail against each other, he cannot sit quitely by while I leave my doors unlocked and drive aggresively and I cannot sit quitely by while he drives like an old man and flips rapidly through the tv channels.
Regardless, we are in love and love is sweet and intoxicating. More than that, all of the sudden, I am not sure about my priority list. I had intended, after completing my Ph.D, on attaining a tenure track position at some university - any university (given the job market). Now, I feel I could spend my days in Lubbock (flat and brown and conservative) doing any old job and be happy. What kind of virus is this? How does one combat it? My future unsure, I still tread on as if I will be a professor. It may happen. But it is no longer at the top of the list and other options are more inviting.
Who'd have thunk?
An expert in nutty people (a clinical psychologist), his interest in me equal my interest in him. What are the chances of finding someone so compatible? I had long since given up - as no previous encounter correlated so well. Not that we are entirely blissful, who is? But it is a great comfort to find someone so similar. We are now able to reinforce our liberal ideology, taking turns at railing against Bush, big business, and the materialistic aspirations of the masses - blindly following. We also rail against each other, he cannot sit quitely by while I leave my doors unlocked and drive aggresively and I cannot sit quitely by while he drives like an old man and flips rapidly through the tv channels.
Regardless, we are in love and love is sweet and intoxicating. More than that, all of the sudden, I am not sure about my priority list. I had intended, after completing my Ph.D, on attaining a tenure track position at some university - any university (given the job market). Now, I feel I could spend my days in Lubbock (flat and brown and conservative) doing any old job and be happy. What kind of virus is this? How does one combat it? My future unsure, I still tread on as if I will be a professor. It may happen. But it is no longer at the top of the list and other options are more inviting.
Who'd have thunk?
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