Takaya
Lone Wolf
Cheryl Alexander
For the two alpha males in my life, Dave and Takaya.
For my family – my pack.
And for all those who will fight to ensure the wilds of our shared Earth survive.
This has been a wild journey, for sure. And along the way it has involved many people, many animals and many wild places. I am deeply indebted and grateful for it all.
In particular, I have been blessed to share my life, to walk on the Wildside, with a true companion and love, David Green. He has made this journey possible, and full of adventure and delight. And, he has graciously accepted my passion for this wild wolf.
My children, Maia, Lara and Alexa, have also walked many wild paths with me and filled my life with much laughter and the force of love. They have put up with my desire to photograph every bit of the wild, including them. And they have been my company many times out in the islands. They have been joined now by three partners, Robby, Rob and Jean-Marc who have added immeasurably to the rich tangle of our lives. And now, the gift of grandchildren to accompany me on my wild explorations. Dana, Elliott and Lila all have watched the wolf with me and especially love to drive the boat. I have the joy of sharing this remarkable experience with the young who will not forget to fight in their future for what is wild. A true “commune,” my family have supported me and encouraged me as I’ve gone in this rather wild, and unexpected, direction. This is what has given me the determination to write this book.
I want to also thank my mommo, Donna, for her ongoing faith in me and support to be different. Her love has always given me strength. She’s even been willing to come out with me and sit in thunderstorms, which I love, but which she really isn’t crazy about. My sister Jan and two brothers, Mike and Bruce, also enthusiastically have listened to my wolf stories and celebrated my successes.
I am so grateful for the friendship and support of Anna-Lisa Bond. She has been such an intrepid and enthusiastic companion on many of my early-morning or late-evening island adventures. Together in my boat, we have spent hours looking for Takaya, or just sitting quietly absorbing the island world, the beauty of the light. And each time, we are equally delighted when he appears and accepts our company, giving us the gift of his.
My friend Harriet Allen has also spent countless hours with me in the islands and has shared many of my adventures with Takaya. As well, she provided invaluable scientific advice and connection to the world of wolf scientists. Her serendipitous presence in my life has enriched the whole experience.
To my island companions and protectors of the wolf and the archipelago, Mike Sheehan and Michael Blades, I can’t express how much I’ve benefited from sharing the islands with you. I’ve learned so much and been challenged and stimulated by all of our many adventures out there. I will never forget that we ascended Mount Takaya together.
Tom Reimchen and Sheila Douglas have been a special support out in the isles and have shared my love of Takaya, as well as generously sharing their vast scientific knowledge. I especially appreciate our conversations with homemade wines and hot rums on cold days.
A special gratitude to my good friend Zann Hoad, who lives in South Africa but has made the long journey over to meet the wolf and did a first review of my draft manuscript. Most significantly, she has given me love and encouragement and invaluable insights.
To all the other island paddlers who watch over the wolf and the islands, and whose presence enriches that world, particularly Torsten and Cathy Broeer, Michael Jackson, Dan Gedosch, Olivier Lardière, Dan Ready, Paolo Ouellet, Peter Northover, Dave Wizinski, and the late Philip Teece and Dave Lock, you are part of the Islands Web.
To my friends who have all shared part of this journey and given me encouragement along the way: Paul Harder and Jutta Kaffanke (for adventuring and wolf exploring together), Sonja and Norm Mcleod, Sal Glover, Stuart Nemtin, Mike Newson, Martha McDonnell, Marcia and John Hills, Sandi Berry, and Julie and Graham Perry. Thank you.
For believing in me, in the value of telling my story and my ability to articulate what I’ve learned about the wolf, a special thank you to Gaby Bastyra and Martin Williams, who made the film about Takaya a reality. Andre Barro of Cineflix Media, Bruce Whitty and Bryan Sullivan of MBM TV also have been instrumental in the creation of the film. The film has directly inspired and added quality to this book.
For filming and photography assistance I am deeply indebted to April Bencze, Tavish Campbell, Anna-Lisa Bond, Cathie Ferguson, Matt Hood and Mike McInlay.
Joy Davis and Paula Wild have provided really helpful support from an author’s perspective.
Many scientists contributed to my learning journey and some have also become friends. In particular I benefited from the knowledge of Jim and Jamie Dutcher, Fred Harrington, Kira Cassidy, Bob Crabtree, Camilla Fox, John and Mary Theberge, David Mech, Chris Darimont and Paul Paquette.
Thanks to Bristol and Libby Foster for enthusiastic support, and to Robert Bateman and Birgitte for being willing to come out to the islands and consider painting the wolf.
Thanks to Paul Nicklen and Cristina Mittermeier of Sea Legacy for supporting this project idea in the early part of my journey.
To everyone at Rocky Mountain Books, especially to Don Gorman, for so enthusiastically supporting this book from the very first moment I proposed it. He has gone above and beyond what I ever imagined a publisher would do in terms of giving me the freedom to create the book as I imagined it. A very special thank you to Alex Van Tol for her skilled editing and warm support throughout the drafting of the manuscript. She is a “wonder woman.”
And a special thank you to my daughter Maia, who has been invaluable in the somewhat overwhelming process of selecting images for this book from my large collection of photographs.
If there are errors or oversights in this book, I take responsibility. The book is really a record of my personal journey and accumulated knowledge of Takaya. It isn’t meant to be a scientific documentation, and any scientific musings are entirely my own.
Thank you, with respect, to the Songhees First Nation and all Salish Sea Coastal First Nations whose traditional territories provide a home for this wolf, and others who roam here. I am especially grateful to the Songhees Nation for initially fighting to ensure that Takaya remain free and choose whether to stay in the islands or not.
With recognition to BC Parks for honouring the request of the Songhees Nation to not trap the wolf, and for choosing to protect Takaya by investing in education, signage and food storage bins. It is exemplary that they have chosen a route forward that allows for the wolf and the public to continue to use and enjoy the wilderness parkland together.
I want to also acknowledge how fortunate we are to have areas of wilderness left where wild creatures can live and thrive. May we be able to keep it that way! It’s important, even though Takaya will never know what he has affected, to acknowledge Takaya and the gifts of awareness and inspiration that he’s given to so many. May his life long be remembered and treasured.
Photography and Film Notes
All of the images in this book are mine, except as identified below, and have not been digitally altered. All have been taken in the natural and wild environment of the archipelago. Some of the images have been taken from the filmmaking process. Credit is given here by page numbers: Darshan Stevens page 5; David Green page 21; April Benzce pages 23, 31, 74 (top), 136, 156; Maia Green page 24; Mike McKinlay pages 29, 46, 54, 73, 147, 148, 158 (top and bottom); Doug Paton page 40 (top); Tavish Campbell pages 42 (top), 72; Meredith Dickman page 47; Cathie Ferguson page 70; Anna-Lisa Bond pages 87, 102; Kyle Artelle page 107; Lesley Wolfe-Milner page 164; Larry Taylor page 167; Colin Mann page 169; Times-Colonist page 182 (left); George and Anna Smith page 182 (middle); James Bay New Horizons Centre page 182 (right).
The film Takaya: Lone Wolf can be viewed in Canada on the CBC Gem streaming site or on the CBC Docs YouTube Channel. Canadian rights are owned by The Nature of Things, CBC. UK rights are owned by BBC Four. Rights in France and Germany are owned by ARTE. Worldwide rights are controlled by Cineflix Rights, part of the Cineflix Media Group.
Contact Information
I can be contacted at: cheralexander@gmail.com or via my website: www.wildawake.com.
You can follow Takaya’s ongoing life in three ways:
Instagram: @takayalonewolf
Facebook: @takayalonewolf
Takaya’s Website: www.takayalonewolf.com
Copyright © 2020 by Cheryl Alexander Foreword || Copyright © 2020 by Carl Safina
For information on purchasing bulk quantities of this book, or to obtain media excerpts or invite the author to speak at an event, please visit rmbooks.com and select the “Contact” tab.
RMB | Rocky Mountain Books || Ltd.rmbooks.com || @rmbooks || facebook.com/rmbooks
Cataloguing data available from Library and Archives Canada ISBN 9781771603744 (electronic)
Edited by Alex Van Tol All photographs are by Cheryl Alexander unless otherwise noted. Frontispiece: Takaya walking on shore at daybreak Maps © opensteetmap.org
We would like to also take this opportunity to acknowledge the traditional territories upon which we live and work. In Calgary, Alberta, we acknowledge the Niitsítapi (Blackfoot) and the people of the Treaty 7 region in Southern Alberta, which includes the Siksika, the Piikuni, the Kainai, the Tsuut’ina and the Stoney Nakoda First Nations, including Chiniki, Bearpaw, and Wesley First Nations. The City of Calgary is also home to Métis Nation of Alberta, Region III. In Victoria, British Columbia, we acknowledge the traditional territories of the Lkwungen (Esquimalt, and Songhees), Malahat, Pacheedaht, Scia’new, T’Sou-ke and W̄SÁNEĆ (Pauquachin, Tsartlip, Tsawout, Tseycum) peoples.
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We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Canada Book Fund and the Canada Council for the Arts, and of the province of British Columbia through the British Columbia Arts Council and the Book Publishing Tax Credit.
The views expressed in this book are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of the publishing company, its staff, or its affiliates.
By Carl Safina
Wolf.
The word alone conjures emotions.
Through emotions, we project judgments.
Good. Bad.
Through it all, a wolf remains a wolf. Neither more nor less.
Is it possible to really see – a wolf?
Is it possible to see a real wolf?
Almost no one has.
Think about that. Quite possibly the world’s most famous species.
Perhaps the world’s most hated.
Imagine being loved and hated. By people who have never seen you.
Cheryl Alexander has really seen a real wolf. She got to know him. To look straight into his eyes as he was looking so powerfully into hers. And because Cheryl had no fear, she really saw a wolf. Not just a wolf. This wolf. Takaya.
Takaya’s life was very odd for a wolf. Wolves are very social. They usually live in families, just as we humans usually do.
Takaya came, alone, to a small island without typical wolf food or reliable fresh water. Yet this unusual, mysterious, different wolf found his way to survive, for years.
Cheryl got to know Takaya better than anyone. They had trust in each other. Often, he’d approach her. There was, for them, no fear. And thanks to Cheryl, Takaya’s life has become a gift to us.
It would be nice if we decide to return Takaya’s favour.
Some people detest wolves with a hatred so deep it feels racial. Such people have never seen a wolf. They are expressing fear.
When Takaya approached some hikers who’d brought a dog to a place where dogs had been banned, he might, in his loneliness, have been merely curious. He might have been seeking the company of someone more like himself. After all, the ancestors of all dogs are wolves. Dogs know how to live with us because wolves live in families. That’s why dogs instinctively know how to fit into a family. Chimpanzees are more closely related to us. But they don’t understand family living. That’s why we have modern-day wolves – our dogs – in our homes, rather than our closer relatives, chimpanzees. Humans and dogs have been hunting partners and have protected each other for many thousands of years. Dogs are wolves who evolved to be with humans. And there is good reason to believe that dogs affected human evolution too. In no other animal does the mere movement of a body part affect our emotions like a dog’s wagging tail. We react instinctively to that tail just as we react instinctively to a human smile. Dogs accompanied and even escorted humans to the farthest ends of the earth. Humans and dogs have come to an understanding. But modern, civilized humans stubbornly cling to a medieval European fear of wolves.
And so, even though the hikers themselves said Takaya showed no aggression, they reacted in fear. They radioed for rescue. And the press presented to viewers and readers a potentially dangerous, snarling wolf. But that wolf was not Takaya. It was a wolf that people had only imagined. It was the wolf of an anxiety dream, not a dream of a better world, of a humanity more accommodating and more in tune with the reality of wolves and wild places and life on Earth. Takaya merely trotted back into the trees. What took over the conversations that followed was fear, talking.
Native, tribal peoples know no such fear.
For a long time, the power in other creatures instilled in humans deep respect and a working détente. For a long time of truce and magic, during thousands of years, humans asked the stronger, craftier creatures such as wolves, orcas, bears, lions, elephants and tigers to merely hold their peace, and nothing else, against us. As human technology increased, respect eroded. Our weapons became stronger. The creatures’ strength and intelligence no longer compelled our respect. We kill wolves and whales and elephants and others not because they are inferior but because we can. Because we can, we tell ourselves they are inferior.
Yet – and isn’t this so odd – as our killing power increased, so did our fears. Now, most people who will never see a wolf, fear wolves. Fear comes most from not knowing.
Indigenous peoples have had a more sensible, more spiritual, closer-to-truth view of wolves and other hunters. Native American groups have worked against wolf killing and bear hunting. The Western view often reflects goals of domination or extermination. The Indigenous view of other animals is often compatible with a long-term accommodation. It’s not that the native view is more scientific, but in sensing deep relation, their belief web is a truth-catcher. Native peoples have seen wolves for who they are.
In the 1940s, American conservationist Aldo Leopold wrote hauntingly of how his fear and hatred of wolves turned to respect only when he saw the fire dimming in the eyes of a wolf he had shot. In that moment, he gained wisdom from the dying wolf. He concluded, “Only the mountain has lived long enough to listen objectively to the howl of a wolf.”
Let us seek wisdom the way Cheryl Alexander has gained it. From seeing the real wolf – alive.
He was unheeded, happy and near to the wild heart of life. He was alone and young and willful and wild hearted, alone amidst a waste of wild air and brackish waters and the sea harvest of shells and tangle and veiled grey sunlight.
Jon Krakauer
He arrived on the island shore alone. Possibly at dawn. Likely exhausted. Probably exhilarated. Perhaps fearful. Certainly on a mission.
He was searching for three things — the three things that he needed to survive and thrive in life: A reliable source of food. An exclusive and safe territory that he could call his own. A mate.
Was this where he would find those things? Should he stay?
Now, almost nine years on, he remains on these island shores. It was predicted that he wouldn’t survive here, with limited food resources and no year-round source of water. Yet he has survived and is thriving. He has found two of the three things he was searching for: food and a safe territory. The third remains elusive.
Over the years since he arrived, I have come to know him and to learn much about his chosen, and most unique, life. Many questions have been answered, however mysteries still abound.
This is his story. And mine.
He was a young wild wolf.
As many wolves do, he probably left his natal pack when he was between 2 and 3 years old, looking for a territory and a family of his own. Or maybe he was just looking for adventure — a real pioneering wolf.
No matter the reasons he left his early home, in May 2012, as he got out of the sea, shook himself off and climbed up onto the shores of the isles that were to become his territory, he likely had little idea of what his journey would mean.
This young wolf had arrived in a small archipelago just off the coast of Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, with no deer to hunt, no other wolves, and very near to a city of over half a million people. He had left what we consider normal wolf wilderness habitat, and had instead crossed over 40 kilometres of urban areas and city suburbs in search of his new home.
He’s now almost ten years old and I’ve come to know him well. I have gained this wolf’s trust and documented his life, shooting thousands of still images and hundreds of hours of video footage.
It is almost impossible to document the life of a lone wolf in the wild. They travel vast distances and are rarely spotted. Mostly on the move, lone wolves are difficult to follow unless radio-collared, and so their lives are largely unseen. This wolf’s unique situation allowed me to gain his trust, and to observe and document his life.
I became intent on understanding his life and wanted to solve his many mysteries, such as: Why did he cross ocean and city to get here? How did he adapt and thrive in such an unusual habitat for a wolf? Why does he stay here, choosing a life of solitude? And what will his future be?
After a while I grew tired of just calling him the wolf. I chose to call him a name which means wolf in the language of the Coast Salish Indigenous people who historically inhabited this area.
His name is Takaya.
Anything is one of a million paths … for me there is only the traveling on paths that have heart, on any path that may have heart, and the only worthwhile challenge is to traverse its full length … and there I travel looking, looking breathlessly.
Carlos Castaneda
To find and follow a path with heart has been a guiding principle throughout my life. Yet how did choosing a path with heart lead me to falling in love with a wild wolf?
Beginning in childhood, I spent a lot of time in nature, camping with my family and exploring the magical woods near my early home in North Vancouver. My first intense wilderness experiences occurred when I took a job as an Outward Bound instructor in a high-risk wilderness correctional program for young offenders during the mid-1970s.
Then, in 1978, as a university lecturer in Environmental Studies, I developed a fascination with nature and the complex webs we live in. I worked for many years as an environmental educator and consultant, focused on designing decision-making processes that were inclusive of all stakeholders. After retiring from this work, I decided to pursue what had always been passions of mine: photography and nature.
It had become obvious to me that Earth’s wilderness areas were disappearing quickly, so I decided to dedicate myself to creating visual images that would educate and inspire action to protect and save what remains of her wilderness.
I am now a conservation photographer, filmmaker and amateur naturalist. Through my visual work I aim to inspire others to love and conserve the natural world, and to encourage a sustainable human relationship with the Earth that nurtures and sustains us. It is really important to me that people understand the value of wilderness and the wild creatures who depend on it.
I have spent a lot of time in wilderness and have come to understand that it is in these wild spaces that we are most able to understand our deep connection with, and reliance on, the Earth. I believe that many of us have a deep longing to be more closely connected to nature — to experience the natural world and the many mysteries and miracles that it contains.
I now live in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, on the edge of the Salish Sea, surrounded by my immediate and extended family. My husband, Dave Green, a scientist and inventive entrepreneur, shares my life. He is my rock. Our three daughters, Maia, Lara and Alexa, are all grown, with wonderful partners and families of their own. To date, three grandchildren — Dana, Elliott and Lila — share my heart and time in nature. We live a communally rich life, and all of us are passionate about the natural world.
Just off the coast, about two kilometres from our backyard, sits a small archipelago of uninhabited islands. They are situated at the southern entrance to the Salish Sea. Here, the rich waters of the Pacific Ocean flow into the Strait of Juan de Fuca and then northward through Haro Strait, filling up the Salish Sea and waterways between Vancouver Island and mainland British Columbia. The surrounding waterways are heavily used by freighters, tankers and other boat traffic moving into and out of the busy harbours of Seattle and Vancouver.
The island archipelago is an oasis in a sea of human commerce. Because they are all nearly connected at low tide levels, the Songhees Nation called these islands Tl’ches, meaning one island. The islands are mostly ecological reserve, park and Indigenous lands — a small gem of wilderness close to our large urban area.
For me, these islands are a spiritual place, and often have provided me with refuge from the demands and crises of daily life.
I’ve been visiting these islands for over 40 years. They are stunningly beautiful, richly diverse ecologically and rarely visited by people, even though the city is relatively close. Strong currents and difficult-to-navigate waterways defend the islands from a large onslaught of visitors. Most of those who do come arrive by kayak or small pleasure craft. Paddlers and boaters must be highly skilled, as the seas can be dangerous. A few visitors will actually camp in the park during the summer months. But for the most part, the islands are the domain of oceanic and terrestrial wildlife like Steller sea lions, orcas, harbour seals, bald eagles, osprey, river otters and mink. And now, a top predator: the wolf.
Since 1974 I have visited these islands in all sorts of watercraft. My first visit was when we anchored the MV Tamarack