RoyalCanadian said:
As for this year, and perhaps for years to come, Rebecca's days of monitoring the seal hunt are over as she has been charged with interfering with the seal hunt and her observer status has been revoked. She seems to be worried that the HSUS folks still out monitoring the hunt won't be able to twist the facts in the same fashion she does. In true Yankee fashion, she has decided to sue the Canadian government to let her back onto the ice so she can interfere just a little more.
March 26: Targeting Seals and Observers
March 26, 2006
By Rebecca Aldworth
GULF OF ST. LAWRENCEThe second day of Canadas commercial seal hunt in the Gulf of St. Lawrence opened in the midst of a thick fog. The grey sky reflected the mood of The HSUS ProtectSeals team. We were all well aware this would be a very difficult day, one in which we would witness many of the remaining seal pups being clubbed and shot to death for their fur.
We also knew that this might be the last day we could obtain footage of the hunt: There were so few seals in the areabewildered looking pups trying their best to stay afloat on their precarious platforms of iceand the sealers were quickly killing them off.
The night before we had dropped anchor between 11 sealing boats. All night we heard their chatter on the radios and watched their lights gleam across the inky ocean. They began to move at 4 a.m., and we were not far behind. As soon as it was fully light outside, we spotted four boats and sped in our small inflatable boats toward them.
I normally observe this hunt on foot because the ice floes are usually strong enough to support several helicopters. But this year the ice was thin and fragile, so we were forced to resort to basing ourselves on a larger vessel and deploying small, inflatable boats to move through the icy water. Sitting in the inflatables provided a unique perspective: I was filming from the same height as the seal pupsand those sealing vessels looked 10 times as intimidating.
We gained quickly on two large sealing boats, and they led us directly into an ice pack. As the ice closed in behind our inflatables, it became obvious that we had no means of escape. Almost immediately, the sealing boats turned and charged. We frantically tried to move our inflatables out of their way, backing up against the unyielding ice and struggling not to capsize in the sealing vessels wake as they narrowly missed hitting us.
Finally, the sealers moved on and began to shoot randomly at the pups lying across the ice. It was horrific to watch, the seals would hear the shouts of the sealers and crawl frantically to the edge of the ice pans, only to be struck by a bullet. Often, the bullets did not kill the seals immediately, and the sealer would shoot them again and again as they tried to escape. The air quickly became heavy and bitter with the smell of gun powder.
A three-week-old pup was shot several times as she frantically tried to escape beneath the waters surface. As is often the case with open-water shoots, the seal slipped beneath the surface of the water and was never recovered.
The sealers on this vessel were resourceful: If the ice was thick enough, they would jump onto it and club the seals to death with a hakapika crude club with a metal spike on top. (Sealers prefer to club seals because the pelt processing company deducts several dollars from the price paid for each bullet hole found in it.) The sealers would hop from ice pan to ice pan, the baby seals looking up at them in alarm as the clubs struck down at them.
So many of the pups I saw killed were still almost completely covered in white fur, legally hunted because of a loophole in Canadian law that allows baby seals to be killed the moment they begin to shed their fluffy white coats. This often starts at 12 days.
We continued to follow these two vessels into a narrow channel of water between ice pans. The fog was moving in fast, and we lost sight of our larger vessel. Now we were alone, our inflatables completely unprotected against the sealing boats. Without warning, one of the sealing boats turned sharply and raced back toward us. We immediately backed up our inflatables but were again trapped against the ice. Watching the sealing vessel coming directly toward us at high speed, I was sure we would be capsized into the ocean. This was serious: If we were knocked into the frigid water, our survival suits could protect us for only a couple of minutes.
Our driver backed the inflatable up as far as he could against the ice, grinding our propeller into a floe. Just feet away, our other inflatable struggled just as helplessly. Together, we watched the sealing boat bear down on us. In some part of my mind, I took small comfort knowing that, should an official from the Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO) be observing, we could not be accused of being violation of the conditions of our observation permits, which state that we must stay at least 10 meters from sealers in the pursuit of seals. The sealers on this boat were not trying to kill sealsthere were none in our area. From where we were, it was clear they were trying to capsize us.
Until the very last moment, I thought the sealing boat would stop; the captain must have known that he was putting our lives at risk. But with a loud crash, the sealers rammed the inflatable next to us at high speed, damaging one of its propellers. The driver had no choice but to push his inflatable up onto an ice floe to escapea dangerous maneuver but his only choice. We were caught in the wake, and our driver struggled to control the inflatable as the sealing vessel crashed by just a foot away. I shouted at the captain that he was breaking Canadian law and risking human lives. He smiled as he pulled away.
I looked up, and saw the reason for his humorthe second sealing vessel was now bearing down on us at a high speed. If it hit us, we would be finished. Thankfully, it swerved. I couldnt understand why until I looked back and saw our larger, and more imposing, vessel appear miraculously out of the fog. These cowardly sealers were happy to take us on in our tiny boats, but they were not so anxious to do battle with a 120-foot vessel.
This kind of aggression is standard behavior for the sealersI see it every year that I document this hunt. To document the killing, we must simply move on.
We caught up with another boat, and the sealers yelled at us, throwing seal carcasses in our direction. We filmed in horror as a sealer jumped off onto an ice pan, running with his hakapik raised towards a helpless whitecoat. He suddenly dropped to his knees and picked her up, only to slam the terrified pup into the ice and run back to his sealing boat, laughing. Canadas Marine Mammal Regulations forbid this kind of treatment of the seals, but we see it routinely up here. On these ice floes, the sealers have good reason to believe they are above the law.
Minutes later, a Canadian Coast Guard ice breaker moved into position and deployed a small motor boat full of DFO and Royal Canadian Mounted Police officers. They approached our boat, and for one second I actually imagined they were coming to investigate the ramming incident. But of course they were not here to check on the sealersthey never arethey wanted to verify our observation permits. For the next half hour, they meticulously examined the permits, checking our identification against the paperwork. Then, grudgingly, they allowed us to proceed.
For the rest of the day, we filmed the slaughter of hundreds of baby seals. The climate of aggression continued, with sealing vessels charging at us repeatedly and throwing seal carcasses at our inflatables. At one point, two sealing boats chased us through the ice floes, and our vessel captain realized we were in serious trouble. He radioed repeatedly to the Coast Guard, asking for assistance. No one responded.
Once, a bloody flipper landed on the floor of the inflatable right before me. I could make out the rudimentary fingers that make up the flippers of the harp seal pupsthey resemble human hands. For a moment I could only stare around me at the arena of carnage and chaos that these once-pristine ice floes had become. As tears streamed down my face, I vowed again to make this the last hunt any of us would ever have to witness.
Rebecca Aldworth is Director of Canadian Wildlife Issues for The HSUS.