By Johnny Vesper, Contributor at Wild Nexus

“No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main.” 

These words by poet John Donne remain a powerful and poignant reminder, 400 years later, of our interconnectedness as humans. But they also remind us, of the connection we share to the world around us, as we wander this wondrous planet, managing all its complicated and nuanced ecology, the best we can. 

One could argue, this connectivity has led to another related truth— no island is free of man, entire of itself. Every island has been, touched and irreversibly affected by humans.

This story, one of many like it, begins 5 million years ago; when a barren, desolate rock rose from the ocean depths to form what we now know as Santa Catalina Island. 

Part of a broader archipelago found off the west coast of America called The Channel Islands; Catalina lies 22 miles from the California mainland. Because the island formed through geologic processes of tectonic activity beneath the sea, it was never a part of the neighboring North American continent. For this reason, it evolved in relative isolation with no terrestrial mammals, including humans. Even plant life only began to grow there when seeds arrived, carried on the wing, wind, and waves. For thousands of years, the plants and animals that did come to call the island home, remained generally limited to avian, insect, and marine life. 

That is, until about 10,000 years ago, when archeologists believe the first humans arrived. These were likely, travelers of the Tongva tribe, from the mainland, Native Americans who had inhabited the greater Los Angeles basin for millennia. Scientists believe these early wayfarers paddled to the island, which they named, Pimu, on canoes called, ti’ats. They hunted marine mammals, such as sea lions, and traveled between the neighboring Channel Islands, as well as back and forth from the mainland— hunting, gathering, and trading, hides, furs, and other valuable goods. 

Many researchers believe the transient islanders originally introduced a majority of the five, now endemic, mammalian species that still live on Catalina Island. This includes the island fox, which the Tongva may have semi-domesticated. In addition to the faunal introductions, it is likely that these early human visitors also introduced the Scrub Oak, an endemic tree species still present there today. This tree species has played a key role in the ecological history of the island. Acorns were a staple food source, and almost certainly carried along on exploratory journeys and later planted during eventual settlement. 

The Native population lived on and amongst the island in relative stasis until Spanish explorers arrived in the late 16^th century. In a devastating scenario that played out broadly throughout North and South America at the time, most of the Native inhabitants died from disease brought by the Europeans. The following centuries then unfolded like many other islands and remote regions along the coasts of North America— failed attempts at settlement, resource extraction, and environmental exploitation — along with various land “ownership” changes between governmental and private entities. 

It was in 1919, when business magnate, of chewing gum fame, William Wrigley Jr, purchased nearly the entirety of Santa Catalina Island. His vision was to create, “a playground for all.” He built a reservoir, a casino, a resort, and more, even a country club complete with locker rooms to host the Chicago Cubs baseball team, who began holding spring training there.

It was during these early days of development that mule deer were introduced to the island, with the support of the California Department of Fish and Game. Arriving first in 1929, the thought was that deer would enhance the island’s wildlife assemblage and provide hunting opportunities to visitors and residents a further effort to increase the island’s recreational attraction. However, a lack of natural predators, an abundance of forage, and plenty of room to roam, allowed the deer population to increase from the original 10, to over 2,000 today. 

In 1932, just a few years after the mule deer made landfall, William Wrigley Jr died. His son, Phillip Knight Wrigley, inherited possession and management of the island. It was his decision in the early 1970’s, along with fellow heirs to the family estate, of deeding 42,000 acres, nearly 90% of the island, to the Catalina Island Conservancy.

The management strategy for the deer population then fell under the authority of the Conservancy and has ever since. For years, hunting was a key component in this effort. However, the conservation of native plant species has also been a major focus of the Conservancy from the beginning, and according to them, the deer are now decimating the native and endemic plants. Studies now show that non-natives, like invasive grasses are outcompeting the native species at an alarming rate. This, they say, is the driving factor in the recently announced decision to kill all the deer on Catalina Island. 

It is believed that, besides the potential extinction of rare and unique endemic plant species, the loss of native flora will create a significantly higher risk of catastrophic wildfires. Catalina Island has an ecological history of natural wildfires, which have largely shaped its current landscape. Many of the endemic plants are adapted to this fire prone environment. Plants like the island scrub oak, which has a high moisture retention, naturally grows in patterns which break up the landscape, preventing continuous potential fuel, and can regenerate after burning. Non-natives, especially highly invasive grasses now found on the island, do not carry these same traits. On the contrary, they tend to dry out and become extremely dangerous potential wildfire facilitators.

The California Department of Fish and Game announced at the end of January that they had approved a proposal by the Catalina Island Conservancy to eradicate the entire deer population. In a rare instance of accord, a bilateral opposition has now arisen from both pro and anti hunting groups towards this proposal. 

I find it quite ironic that at the inception of the deer introduction for hunting purposes on Catalina Island, there would have most certainly been discord between pro and anti-hunters. Yet in an unexpected twist of fate, the two sides are now standing together, in hopes of saving the deer population that has established itself there over the past 100 years. 

Now, my intention is not to throw my hat in the ring and attempt to make a convincing argument for one side of this debate. It is obvious, as hunters, we would oppose any loss of hunting opportunities, especially in areas where said opportunities are so limited. Though also as hunter conservationists, we certainly appreciate the importance of saving and supporting native plant species from potential extinction. 

This story, as with all wildlife management and conservation, is a nuanced, complicated, and complex one. The number of stakeholders is endless, the environmental factors, and considerations are staggering. And more than all, we must recognize our own history as a bipedal, tool making, landscape changing, resource depleting, species of greatest impact. 

No one asked the mule deer whether they wanted to go to the island or not. We chose for them, and for the past century, they have simply done what they do. The early Native Americans who moved through their pre contact environment, even with a much more harmonious, positive relationship with the land, could not have foreseen the introduction of scrub oak as a future protection against luxury resort property being destroyed by wildfire. 

It begs the questions— 

As we adapt, and shape the environment around us to fit our immediate needs, how is wilderness and wildlife expected to cope? 

When does wildlife simply become part of the landscape, when moved from place to place by humans? 

Where should human intervention begin and end, anyway?

 Must we attempt to undo all actions of the past, and will this not affect the future in unexpected ways as well? 

As hunters, we play an incredibly significant role in the story, and the larger story of wildlife management in general. Hunting is arguably the basis of all Seven Pillars of the North American Model of Conservation. We have an obligation to be thoughtful and discerning about how we move forward in this infinitely important effort, to conserve the wildlife and wild places across this great land. 

When thinking about the Catalina Island deer situation, a quote from the influential, writer, hunter, conservationist, and founder of Meateater, Steven Rinella comes to mind. “I admire the deer, but I admire the idea of deer [deer population as a whole] more than the individual deer. And I probably care about them in a way that’s deeper than something you’re [non-hunter] gonna experience from having a removed perspective on it.”

This is exactly how I and many other hunters feel. And I would add to this, that every decision we make regarding wildlife and the management of it, has a ripple on affect, which we should carefully evaluate, and at the least, take great care when considering the consequences. We are not islands, those of us in the hunting community, entire of ourselves. And neither are the deer, or the scrub oak, or any other creature that dwells upon this earth. 

Some may believe the proposed eradication of the Catalina deer herd is the best way to move forward for protecting the historic ecology of Santa Catalina Island. Whether you agree or not, at the very least, it should make us all stop and think. 

“And therefore, never send to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.”