Long before I came to Alaska, I had been fascinated with the folklore and reports associated with the Abominable Snowman, Yeti, Sasquatch and Bigfoot.
As a senior in high school I wrote a term paper on the legendary wild men that had been reported from so many places throughout the world.
In spite of the short film made in northern California, some plaster casts made in California and some interesting photographs of tracks in the snow of the Himalayas, I never bought into the validity of the stories. For sure, if such man-apes or ape-men existed, we would have some concrete evidence. Certainly some hunter, someplace, would have shot at least one of these beasts or otherwise acquired a body. But no irrefutable evidence has been presented.
Before the Alaska Department of Fish and Game stationed a full time biologist in Kotzebue, I had been contracted to fly visiting biologists around for big game surveys and other work. With my degree in biology and experiences gained on ranches in Arizona and Montana, as well as on hunting and fishing trips, I probably had a somewhat better than average understanding of nature. I certainly had a higher than average interest in wild critters of all types.
Soon, I was offered a contract by the state to work on my own. One of my main jobs was to fly my super cub around herds of caribou making estimated counts. When and wherever possible, I was to land near wolf kills. Upon reaching the kill site I would photograph the scene, and collect what bones I could find associated with the kill – preferably the femur or humerus from which marrow could be collected and used to calculate the overall health of the animal. I loved the work!
On those flights, I frequently encountered wolves or wolverine which I was free to land and shoot, so long as I subtracted the flying time for such pursuits from the total flight hours I turned in to the department. I saw the freedom to harvest the big predators’ fur as an incentive, and a bonus.
In July 1976, the Department of Fish and Game opened a field office in Kotzebue and stationed a full-time biologist there. This fellow, Dave Johnson, rented a new efficiency apartment that I had just completed, and we became close friends. We shared a love of the wilderness and we held similar, conservative political views. We always had plenty to talk about. And now I had a partner on most of my “official” activities.
In March of 1977 we were getting ready to depart on my super cub on skis for a moose survey. As I popped the flaps to get us airborne, my seat abruptly slid backward. Luckily, Johnson was in the back seat and with his knees up next to the back of my seat, I did not slide far. I banked left and returned to land, to see what was broken. Dave was wearing large “bunny boots” and the toe of his boot had tripped the release on the left side of my seat, sending it sliding backwards on the rail. I had been flying that aircraft and others like it for more than ten years and was not aware that the seat was adjustable.
Had Dave Johnson’s feet not been so large, the release lever would not have been tripped and I would have remained ignorant of that feature of my aircraft, for who knows how many more years? Worse yet, it might have become disengaged at a bad moment which could have led to a wreck.
That very day I began referring to Dave as Sasquatch, or Bigfoot. So, there was at least one Sasquatch in northwest Arctic Alaska, and the one has inadvertently done me a good turn.
Rather than the Abominable Snowman, I would refer to him as the Benevolent Sasquatch.
Jake Jacobson has served as dentist, biologist, fishing guide, hunting guide, boat skipper and fossil hunter during his 50 years in Alaska. He’s also been a commercial pilot for 46 years, with over 10,000 hours in Alaska, Bolivia, Rhodesia and Namibia. Along the way, he’s chronicled his adventures and misadventures in five books – Alaska Tales, Alaska Flying, Alaska Bears, Kodiak Alaska Deer, and Alaska Hunting. Each book has over 200 pages, including photos, and all are available in the Sporting Classics Store. Shop Now