Access to commercial fishing looks a lot different in Metlakatla compared to other coastal Alaska Native communities.
At the southern tip of the Panhandle on Annette Island, Metlakatla sits on the state's only Native reservation. Because of that, tribal members have the exclusive right to fish in a zone that extends out 3,000 feet around the island. And Metlakatla hopes to expand the reach of its fishing rights, as a lawsuit makes its way through court.
Other Alaska tribes gave up huge chunks of traditional lands in exchange for money and property to form corporations under the 1971 Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act.
Not long after, the state implemented a fisheries management system known as "limited entry," which limits the number of commercial fishing permits in specific areas. Over time, permits have gradually been lost from Alaska's coastal Native communities due to economic and other forces.
Northern Journal reporter Nat Herz says Metlakatla represents an "alternate reality" to that dynamic.
This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Nat Herz: What's different in Metlakatla is that they have this unique history of Tsimshian people having moved from a village across the border in Canada, and they came up to Alaska in the late 19th Century. They live on a congressionally dedicated reservation, and anyone can get into the fishery, who's a member of Metlakatla's tribe.
(Compare that) to, say, Bristol Bay, which is Alaska's sort of fishing beating heart. If you want to get into that fishery and you live in a village, or even if you live anywhere else, you have to pay, you know, $100,000, even $200,000, just to have a permit, let alone buy a boat, whereas in Metlakatla, all you need, if you're a member of the tribe, is like, you could take out your like, rinky dinky little boat, and you pay the tribal government $25 for a permit, and anyone can go out there and fish.
Casey Grove: Now, (in your story), you mentioned the fish processing plant. There is one on Annette Island in Metlakatla. It isn't fully operational, is my understanding, but they want it to be. And what are they doing to try to make that happen, so they can capture more value from their from their catch?
NH: Yeah, they have a huge processing plant in Metlakatla, and it's barely used right now. They process a very small amount of higher-end fish, halibut and some troll-caught salmon.
They have filed this lawsuit that essentially says, "We think that the legislation underpinning the existence of the reservation doesn't just provide us with the exclusive right to fish in this 3,000-foot zone around the island, but also to catch enough fish anywhere that we are sort of providing for our economic needs as a community."
And so that would allow the Metlakatla fishermen, in theory, to be able to fish without having to buy state permits in the area that's sort of roughly a day's travel (from the island). The vision and idea by the tribal government is that if people are able to go out and catch that many more fish, they'll be able to have enough fish to basically make it pencil out and profitable to reinvest and sort of relaunch the plant again, and kind of have this as the economic foundation for their community.
CG: It's not just an economic thing for them, right? I mean, somebody in your story said, "We are salmon people," right? And can you tell me a little bit about that? I mean, just the cultural bonds that people have in their families in this area.
NH: I think the tradition of commercial fishing, certainly dating back like 100 years-plus in coastal Alaska for Native communities, is, I think, really well established. But then I think, you know, you also look back further than that, and certainly, like, harvests of fishing, even before colonization, are an important part of trade networks and things like that.
And so, yeah, this is like part of the community's DNA. And I think it's just like an enormously important part of the culture that actually has really been lost in a lot of other Native communities along the coast. And so I think they really see this lawsuit and flexing their sovereignty as a way to make sure that this important part of their history and culture is maintained. The plant has been there since the community was founded at the very beginning, and so, you know, this is something that's been a permanent tradition, basically.
CG: So just getting into the lawsuit a little bit more, the defendant in that lawsuit is the Alaska Department of Fish and Game, which manages that limited entry system. What's their position on the lawsuit? Obviously, they're fighting it, but what do they say about that?
NH: It's interesting. I mean, I think I went into this story sort of hearing from people saying, like, "Metlakatla is this special place that has managed to sort of preserve this commercial fishing culture." Like, you go to the community, the harbor is full, but then you hear from people in and around the community, and it's like, well, they really have only been able to do that through sort of fighting tooth and nail with the state, with other fishermen.
And I think it's interesting, you see, in response to this lawsuit, the state, has been really vehemently opposed, and not just the state, but also a key commercial fishing group centered in Ketchikan has been supporting the state in the lawsuit. And then you also, really interestingly, have the Central Council of Tlingit and Haida, which is the regional tribal government for Southeast Alaska, saying, "We're against this, too, because these are our fish, and these are our sort of traditional fishing rights and cultural property that you guys are sort of trying to infringe on."
And so, yeah, I mean, I think there's a very sort of natural reaction by both the state and other fishermen in this area to say, "Look, if Metlakatla gets more, other fishermen — who have invested a lot of money in this fishery, and their boats and their gear and their permits — are going to get less." And I think that's that's a very rational response. I think there it's sort of debatable how much of a of an incremental impact that would have, as far as, you know, the number of existing fishermen and the number of fishermen that Metlakatla would be able to bring in as a result of a win in their lawsuit.
And then there are other concerns that are less factually supported, where, you know, the state has said, and the Fish and Game Commissioner, for example, has said, "If Metlakatla gets what they're asking for, then we will have all these other tribes knocking at the door to ask for the same thing." And you talk to legal experts, and it's like, actually, no other tribe is situated in this way, with congressional language dedicating a reservation and implied, if not explicit, legal rights to the harvest. We're talking about a very specific and limited set of circumstances here flowing from Metlakatla's unique status as a reservation. (There's) not a huge risk of upending the entire system of limited entry. But those concerns are definitely out there.
CG: The creation of that reservation and the history of the Metlakatla tribe predates the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act and the creation of this limited entry system. But did the people of Metlakatla back then, when, you know, they were making that decision about whether or not they would join ANCSA, the Alaska Native Claims Settlement Act, did they foresee this happening? I mean, was this something that they feared, and that's why they wanted to stay a reservation with this 3,0000-foot boundary for fishing? Or how did they think about that?
NH: It's a great question that I ended up doing a fair amount of reporting into, and I don't necessarily feel super qualified to answer. I think there is a narrative, and certainly sort of heard from a lot of people in and around Metlakatla that I talked to and through past reporting, there's an idea that, basically there was this sort of really key crucible choice presented to the community about, "Do we opt into the settlement or out of the settlement?" And that there was real debate in the community, and ultimately they had a vote and voted to sort of stay out of it.
As I was fact-checking and publishing the story, and after I published the story, I heard from a couple of Native law experts who really sort of emphasized the point that because the Metlakatlans didn't have an aboriginal land claim in Alaska, like the other Native groups that were negotiating with Congress at the time, the idea that they sort of had a big chunk of this monetary and land settlement that they passed up in exchange for keeping their reservation, these experts felt that that idea or narrative is not necessarily as supported, because it's like they didn't have as much of a potential upside.
But I also think you talk to the Metlakatlans and the people that are working with them, who say, "Look, we had a reservation. We could have come to Congress with a seat at the table to say, 'Look, we'd give this up in exchange for some of the money to change the status of land, you know, put it into private hands, something like that.'" So I do think, you know, it seemed like there was a clear sense in the community at that time that the reservation and the rights associated with it were enormously important and worth defending.
And ultimately, you know, the assessment was that, "We would much rather stick with what we have and what we've accomplished here, especially given what we lost in Canada, rather than to sort of try to reopen things and really get into, like, the machinations of the settlement." So that's what I can tell you.
