Our world has changed pretty drastically over
the years since our Homestead was first settled. My husband Jim and parents
came to the Colville River Delta to build a home and live here year-round in
the mid-1950’s. In those days, no one lived permanently in the area, nor even
in the hundreds of miles between Barrow, at Alaska’s northern most point to the
west of us, or Kaktovik on Barter Island, near the Canadian border to the east
of us.
There was a military instillation a little over
13 miles from us called a Dewline site.
(Distant Early Warning). It was built in the mid-50’s, with a few people
stationed there for long hitches, to watch for foreign planes trespassing into
US airspace. For us, it meant a few lights on the horizon to the northeast,
otherwise there was nothing man-made visible in any direction from our house.
We were truly isolated and living in a wilderness few others saw besides our
own family and guests.
Then exploration and retrieval of oil started.
In the early 1960’s our family became involved in guiding or providing support
for early oil company sponsored seismic exploration efforts, plus guiding
a Sinclair oil rig and support equipment
along the northeastern Alaska coastline from Canada and up the Colville River
for further oil exploration work. Slowly, after the big discovery oil well was
drilled in Prudhoe Bay in 1968, we began to see more distant lights off to the
east as more and more oil drilling rigs and facilities began to spring up.
Although there was a fever of activity with gravel mining, road and pad
construction, and drilling activities, Prudhoe Bay was still far enough away so
as not to affect our normal scenery or activities here on the Homestead.
However, those lights did keep increasing during the 1970’s, but it was not the
oilfield that brought the biggest changes for us.
In 1973, a new native village was started about
22 miles upriver from us. Our homestead
is located on Anachlik Island on the far eastern side of the 22 mile wide delta
face. Nuiqsut village was established at the start of the delta on the western
side. It was only a few families at first, but eventually grew much bigger into
a community of over 400 people. It was
this substantial increase in the local population that brought the most
noticeable changes to the area in which we live. A land must adapt to the
influx of a large number of people and their activities, especially ones who
partially live off the land through hunting
and fishing. Thus we witnessed decreases and changes in wildlife
patterns around the delta area. We saw fewer wolves and wolverines, local
caribou disappeared, some waterfowl had to move away from major boat traffic
areas in summer, fresh-water seals decreased, and our commercial fishing
operation gave way to subsistence users. The Colville River Delta could not help but change from this increase
in human habitation and activities. (Later, the encroaching oilfield would add
to this impact.)
As the oil field continued to grow over the
years and expanded west across the Kuparuk River, industry and all its
infrastructure kept getting closer and closer to us. A few structures on the
horizon and lights at night increased until it looked like a huge city off to
the east of us.
There were advantages to this encroaching world
to help offset the negative changes. First there was the Dalton Highway, or
Haul Road, as it is more commonly called.
It gave us a ground transportation route to southern parts of Alaska via
the road constructed to build and service Alaska’s new oil pipeline from the
North Slope to Valdez. More year-round gravel roads were constructed to and
over the Kuparuk River, into the new Kuparuk Oil Field. That brought ground
transportation even closer to us. Eventually
a road was finished to Oliktok, where the Dewline was located, and we then had
a jumping off spot to drive over the winter ice into the Colville Delta, where
we live.
Ground transportation changed how we obtained
our yearly supplies of food, fuel and other items. Previously we brought all
our supplies north from Fairbanks on large cargo planes that also back-hauled
our commercial fish to southern markets. Road access allowed us to truck
supplies at lower costs and eliminate building a large ice runway for a cargo
plane.
We bought a pickup truck and small trailer at
this point and I (Teena) became the designated trucker, since Jim was the
pilot. I began making several trips to Fairbanks a year. (My many trucking
adventures are another story.) Plus trucking companies could now haul freight
north for us.
Another advantage to the Prudhoe Bay Oilfield
was the establishment of a new Post Office. For many years we had to personally
fly our mail to and from the Barrow Post Office, 160 miles away. Once we shifted
our address, we still were responsible for delivery and pickup of our own mail,
but the Prudhoe Bay Post Office was much closer (about 60 miles) and located
where we both flew or drove often. This cut down the expense, plus increased
the frequency of getting mail.
Prudhoe Bay also provided closer air
transportation for both ourselves and our guest or clients. Commercial airlines
and air taxis began operating out of Deadhorse, the service area for the new
oilfield. With both roads and runway, Prudhoe Bay now became the new North
Slope hub for us instead of Barrow.
Another important advantage to having the
nearby oilfield was access to scrap wood.
Previously our supply of firewood to heat our house came predominantly
from drift willow that washed down the Colville River every spring during
break-up. We had to make several trips a week with a snow machine and big
freight sled to get enough wood to keep ahead of our consumption. This also meant a lot of digging down through
snow to retrieve the wood deposited along the low-lying river banks or delta face. Knowing where this
driftwood gathers ahead of time was paramount.
The oilfield has lots of construction debris,
including scrap wood. When driving home from Prudhoe Bay, or anywhere else in
the oilfield, we always had a load of wood to heat our home. Instead of round
drift willow, we now burn mostly square dunnage.
In the 1980, the Kuparuk Oilfield, west of
Prudhoe Bay, was being developed, and not only did we have lights much closer,
but the buildings, rigs, and power lines were covering most of our eastern view
by then. By the 1990’s we had drill sites within 5 miles of our place. Our
landscape was changing rapidly.
On top of the permanent oilfield infrastructure
to the east of us, we also had winter exploration operations beginning to
surround us during the mid-to-late winter seasons when travel over ice and
tundra became possible in the deep freeze months. Oil work was steadily moving west with
equipment busily making ice roads and then heavy oil industrial equipment
moving to new exploration sites. Ice roads and ice pads sprang up all around
us, some as close as only a few miles away. Seismic operations continued around
us nearly every winter. Fortunately, all this activity was restricted to the
frozen winter season.
Then the oilfield rolled on by us, as a big new
develop named Alpine was built 12 miles to the west of us in the heart of the
Colville River Delta. Later, more drill pads were added to this new
development. All of this means more lights, buildings, runways, and activity
within constant sight of our house. Support planes fly back and forth daily
winter and summer. In the beginning, we
had to ask for respect that these planes stop using our house as a landmark and
flying right over the top of us, especially with the huge transport planes that
shook the China dishes in my kitchen cabinets.
Ongoing during the oilfield development, has
been multiple environmental studies to establish baselines, plus continue
monitoring any environmental impact the oil industry has had to the land and
wildlife. Our family has been an
integral part of these studies over the years, from providing strategic
baseline information to working with study groups and providing logistics
support.
In general, we have had favorable impressions
of the oil industry's stewardship of the land here on the North Slope. Yes,
they have many federal, state, and local environmental guidelines and
stipulations in which to comply, but from our experience, they go above board to
safely and responsibly operate in this fragile environment.
One of the more recent changes for Jim and me
has been my direct involvement in the oilfield since our children are grown and
gone. From the early 2000’s, I have worked for various oil or oil support
companies throughout the area. My jobs have included managing logistics,
expediting supplies, participating in oil spill response activities, and
managing remote exploration camps. I usually work what we call a 2&2
schedule, where employees work 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, for 2 weeks
straight, and then are off work for 2 weeks. Meals and housing are provided.
Most oil industry jobs are shared between two employees who switch back and
forth. Most workers live off the North Slope and transportation is provided to
and from work (usually from Anchorage). Since I already live on the Slope, my
commute is like other locals who work in the oilfield, usually by plane or
helicopter from the home village.
All in all, we have maintained our independent
lifestyle despite the many changes, but marvel at how different our extended
environment has become and how nearby neighbors have ballooned over the years.
