Voices from the Flats – We’ll Miss You Rick Sinnott

By Bill Sherwonit

Over the past 15 years or so, while writing about the wild side of Alaska’s urban center, I’ve had many conversations and email exchanges with local wildlife manager Rick Sinnott. Now and then, I’ve had a chance to share his company and enjoy his dry wit, sometimes in meetings and occasionally while “in the field,” dealing with the bears, moose, sandhill cranes, and other wild critters that inhabit Anchorage. I’ve watched Rick sedate, tag, tattoo, measure, and radio-collar a black bear. I’ve joined him in searching for crane nests in Anchorage’s coastal refuge, and accompanied him and sidekick Jessy Coltrane on the ultimate wild goose chase, after someone reported that a Canada goose was harassing people near a popular mid-town resident. (Of course we found no sign of the unruly goose upon our arrival.)

We’ve had our share of disagreements, mostly over Rick’s efforts to boost hunting opportunities for moose and bears in Anchorage’s backyard wilderness, Chugach State Park. But I’ve always found him to be a reasonable, thoughtful guy who is largely successful in balancing the interests of both Anchorage’s human residents and their wild neighbors. The longer I’ve known Rick, the more I’ve come to respect both his wildlife- and people-management skills.

Like many others, I was surprised to learn Rick had quietly retired from the Department of Fish and Game at the end of June. He’ll be missed, a hard act to follow. As far as I know, his successor hasn’t yet been named, though Jessy would seem to be a smart and logical choice. Like Rick, she seems to have the management skills and temperament – including a good sense of humor – necessary for this job. And she spent several years learning from the best.

As a tribute of sorts to Rick and his legacy, I’m including excerpts from a piece of mine that “Alaska” magazine published five years ago. What I wrote in 2005 still resonates today. Here, then, are parts of that story . . .

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Whether [local residents] feel threatened, annoyed, or elated by the wildlife they encounter, Rick Sinnott is the one they contact. He’s on call 24 hours a day. And from May through September, when moose and bears are most active, his cell phone rings constantly. [Though according to Craig Medred’s recent commentary in the Alaska Dispatch, Sinnott shed his F&G cell phone about a year ago, because of a new and onerous state policy.]

It’s all part of the job. A big part of it. Most of Sinnott’s responses to calls for help turn into wild goose – or, more commonly, wild moose – chases. Many have a humorous twist or happy ending, like the numerous times he’s freed bull moose after they’ve entangled their antlers in hammocks, strings of Christmas lights, or children’s swing sets.

Most pleas for help and advice can be addressed over the phone or with a short – and often fruitless – foray into the field. Sometimes, though, life-and-death decisions must be made. A stressed-out cow moose protecting her calves or a “garbage bear” that has lost its inherent shyness around people might attack a person. As chief referee between Anchorage’s humans and wildlife, Sinnott often decides whether an animal gets a second chance, or dies.

The choice is sometimes regrettable, particularly when the actions of so-called problem animals are directly linked to human carelessness. During the summer of 2003, a young female grizzly took to prowling subdivisions in Eagle River. Though the bear never threatened anyone, she became ever bolder while ripping into garbage and raiding bird feeders. Because the grizzly showed an increasing addiction to human leftovers, Sinnott reluctantly chased the bear down and killed it. Afterward, he bluntly told reporters, “I didn’t kill this bear. The people that are feeding it garbage and birdseed did.”

Sinnott is also commonly called upon for mercy killings when an animal has been injured with no hope of recovery, usually after being struck by a vehicle. Since he got the job in 1994, Sinnott has killed hundreds of urban moose, mostly because of broken legs from collisions with cars and trucks. He has also had to put down several bears and an assortment of other animals, from ducks and geese to a porcupine and a muskrat.

“Even though I’m a hunter, the first few times were tough,” Sinnott admitted. “After a point you sort of get used to it, but not totally. At least you’re ending the animal’s suffering.

The need to occasionally kill wildlife is not the most difficult aspect of his job, however. “The hardest part,” he said without hesitation, “is dealing with politicians.”

Sinnott has taken on Army commanders, Anchorage’s mayor and Assembly, and the Alaska Legislature, when he felt their actions – or inaction – endangered local wildlife. He can’t understand why city officials won’t do more to minimize bear-human conflicts [that seems to be as true as ever under Mayor Dan Sullivan] and protect wildlife habitat from development. And he wonders why the Alaska Legislature insists in meddling in wildlife management. . . .

“I’ve learned to pick my fights and not get caught up emotionally. If I spoke up every time politicians did something that bothered me, I could be in trouble all the time,” Sinnott said with a smile.

“Rick is the consummate wildlife professional,” said Jeff Hughes, [Sinnott’s former supervisor, also retired]. He has a strong grasp of what he’s doing and he takes his job seriously. He naturally prefers to err on the side of wildlife conservation, but that sometimes leads to trouble when you enter the political arena.”

. . . Now in his mid-50s [in 2005 and 60 or thereabouts when he retired], this soft-spoken biologist has been drawn to wild nature for as long as he can remember. He traces his passion to a boyhood spent exploring America’s heartland, where he followed his Army officer father to a series of assignments throughout the Midwest (and, for a while, in Germany). All along the way, the family lived in rural areas with abundant open spaces and wild animals.

In many respects it was an ideal lifestyle for a shy boy who tended to be a loner. Sinnott could easily escape to the woods or open fields to play cowboys and Indians with his brothers, hunt with his dad, or wander off alone to watch squirrels and experiment with trapping. . . .

[Sinnott’s passion for animals eventually led him into biology and then to Alaska. In the early 1980s, he got a job with Fish and Game. And in 1994, Rick got his dream job when the Anchorage area’s long-time wildlife manager, Dave Harkness, retired.]

Sinnott’s willingness to take a stand soon made him more of a public figure than Harkness had been. He’s inevitably quoted whenever the Anchorage Daily News runs local wildlife stories . . . But his public persona goes beyond simple name recognition: he has appeared hundreds of times on local TV and in newspaper photos. To many residents, he has become the voice and face of Fish and Game.

Given Sinnott’s retiring nature, such celebrity status initially made him uneasy. “I’ve never been much of a people person and I’d always been happy in my anonymity,” he reflected. “But it became clear early on that dealing with people was going to be a big part of this job, so I decided I might as well enjoy it.”

Still, life in the fishbowl can be disconcerting, even after a decade [and ultimately 16 years] on the job. More than once, he has had strangers ask for his autograph. “Now that,” he said, “just freaks me out.”

Sinnott has learned to enjoy – or at least tolerate – people’s quirks. This has been a blessing, because people have proved to be the most challenging part of his job. Anchorage has no shortage of wildlife experts – many folks think they know more about animal behavior than professional biologists, and they’re not afraid to say so.

“What really gets me going are the know-it-alls,” he said. “There’s a million of them out there. I can’t tell you how many people think they know more than me, simply because they’ve lived here longer.”

A bigger test of his patience, though, is public apathy and plain stupidity. The great majority of Anchorage-area residents profess to love sharing the landscape with bears, moose, and other wildlife, yet many refuse to change habits that increase conflicts. “Some people just won’t take responsibility for their actions,” he said. “Garbage is a great example of that. . . .”

Besides being an outspoken advocate for wildlife, Sinnott is willing to act on animals’ behalf, even if it means risking controversy. Sinnott has had people “get in my face, shaking their fists” over wildlife issues. He has also received a couple of “off-handed death threats.” And once, while responding to a nuisance-bear complaint on the upper Hillside, he found himself surrounded by a group of pumped-up guys wearing cowboy hats and packing guns.

Clearly, people get emotional about wildlife. It helps that Sinnott is an easy-going guy who works with residents for the benefit of wildlife and people. Even when things seem darkest, he’s able to remember the bright side of his job: not only the animals, but the many people who love having them around. “The great majority of Anchorage residents are extremely tolerant of wildlife,” he said, “even the most dangerous kinds. Can you imagine if a brown bear wandered into Atlanta or Boston? Yet most people here welcome having them around.”

That is one of his great joys. It ‘s also one reason he boasted, “I have the best job in the world.”

A biologist who has been Sinnott’s assistant since 2002, Coltrane has watched him operate in all manner of stressful situations, while dealing with people who carry every imaginable attitude toward wildlife. “Rick’s a likeable guy,” she said, “but in this job you just can’t make everybody happy. I think he’s learned to accept that. It helps that he has a good sense of humor. If you couldn’t laugh at people – and yourself – you’d go crazy.

“In a way, Rick’s a crusader for wildlife. But he’s also diplomatic; he’s able to see the different sides of an issue. And he has empathy with people. He can understand where they’re coming from. Sometimes, I’m not sure that’s a blessing or a curse. Probably both.”

• • •

We Anchorage residents owe Rick Sinnott our thanks, many times over. And I, for one, will miss his calm and measured demeanor, his advocacy for Anchorage’s wildlife, his quiet humor, and his willingness to butt heads with politicians and speak his mind. Adios, Rick, and best wishes.

~Tag team: Doug Hill, foreground left, and Rick Sinnott, right, release a sandhill crane as Herman Griese and Dan Rosenberg finish working on another bird near Palmer late last month. Photo by the awesome and talented ERIK HILL / ANCHORAGE DAILY NEWS (top photo is mine)

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Bill Sherwonit has been a freelance nature writer since 1992. His most recent book, “Changing Paths: Travels and Meditations in Alaska’s Arctic Wilderness” is now available HERE. For nearly a quarter-century, Bill has written extensively about wild lands and wildlife. Though he continues to journey into the wilderness each year, he has also paid increasing attention to the wild nature of his home landscape: Anchorage. He is the author of 12 books about Alaska, including three books about Denali, two about the Iditarod, and others about the Brooks Range and the necessity of wilderness, his evolving relationship with wild nature, Alaska’s bears and state parks.

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