June 15, 2003|By CANDUS THOMSON
National parks get all the attention, get on the front of the postcards, get the oohs and aahs.
They also get all of the visitors, which can be a bummer for folks trying to get away from it all. Last year, the 388 parks, historic sites and national monuments that make up the park system received 277 million tourists. That was down slightly from 2001, but I wouldn't want to be in charge of entertaining them.
Luckily, there's an alternative.
The National Wildlife Refuge System is celebrating 100 years of protecting fragile land and the critters that live there. Since the establishment of the first refuge by President Teddy Roosevelt, the system has grown to 540 sites encompassing 95 million acres, with at least one refuge in each state.
With all the lawyers and commissions and other bureaucratic sludge of today, it's highly unlikely a national network of sanctuaries could be built today.
The process in 1903 went something like this:
Teddy: "Hunters are killing all of the pelicans on Pelican Island. Can't I protect the birds?"
Aide: "Sure you can. It's government land."
Teddy: "Bully. Show me where to sign."
And so it was that Pelican Island Reserve near Melbourne, Fla., was set aside as the first refuge in March 1903. Before you could say, "Pave paradise, put up a parking lot," concerned citizens began suggesting other sites for the government to buy and protect. Old "TR" got the ball rolling by creating 51 sites during his two terms (1901-1909).
The refuge system saved lots of wildlife, but was too late to save other species from greedy businessmen, who turned feathers and pelts into clothes, and wealthy hunters, who blasted thousands of creatures during a single outing just for "sport."
Photos at a museum on Currituck Sound in North Carolina show proud turn-of-the-(last)-century hunters posing by the carcasses of thousands of ducks and geese. The same thing is true at museums out West - just substitute bison and elk for waterfowl.
But you don't even have to go that far, notes a just-released publication, The Smithsonian Book of National Wildlife Refuges. A story in the Nov. 1, 1893, edition of The Sun tells of one Chesapeake Bay hunter who killed 5,000 ducks while sitting in his partially submerged shooting platform near Havre de Grace.
Thank goodness "TR" stepped in when he did.
Those of us who call the Middle Atlantic states home are particularly fortunate because we have a bunch of them within easy driving distance. Maryland has three refuges: Patuxent, just outside Laurel, and Blackwater and Eastern Neck on the Eastern Shore. Virginia and New Jersey each have a half-dozen and Delaware has two.
If you haven't seen them, you ought to make the time. Patuxent has an outstanding visitor center and a passel of ranger-led activities. Blackwater has fabulous wildlife-viewing opportunities (more than 250 species of birds have been sighted) and a strong volunteer group that puts on programs. And Eastern Neck, perhaps the least known of the trio, is a quiet, Chesapeake Bay getaway tucked next to Rock Hall.
These aren't just "wildlife under glass" displays, either. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has opened 311 refuges to managed hunts and 271 to fishing.
This season, for example, Blackwater has set aside two days for young hunters, Nov. 8 and 22. Muzzleloaders with permits can hunt on Oct. 17 and 18. Modern firearms dates are Dec. 1, 5, 8 and 12. Archers get the field Jan. 17 through Jan. 31. Permit application details are at blackwater.fws.gov.
The Smithsonian book does a terrific job of marking the centennial of the refuge system and reminding us of what we're missing. The 258-page book is filled with photos - both archival and present-day - with text by former Maryland resident Eric Jay Dolin.
Somewhat surprisingly, it was a book that almost didn't see the light of day.
Dolin got the refuge bug while researching and writing an earlier book, The Duck Stamp Story, about, surprise, the federal duck stamps purchased by hunters and collectors. The nearly 70-year-old program has provided the Migratory Bird Conservation Fund with more than $500 million to buy 5 million acres of wetland and wildlife habitat for the refuge system.
After finishing the stamp book, Dolin set his sights on the refuge system. He called photographer Karen Hollingsworth, who with her now-late husband, John, supplied Field and Stream and National Geographic magazines with vibrant wildlife images. The couple had visited 400 refuges, shooting about 80,000 slides and negatives.
Hollingsworth signed onto the project.
Dolin wrote a book proposal and sent it to 20 publishers.
"I got 20 excellent rejections, and every single one of them said virtually the same thing: The book won't sell," he says, laughing. "None of the publishers felt that even with the centennial and the excellent images by Richard and Karen the book wouldn't excite the public."