The effort to fund Alaska's government amid grim budget shortfalls has now trickled all the way down to the riverbanks and hunting grounds of the Last Frontier. For the first time in nearly two decades, hunting and fishing license fees are poised to increase.
House Bill 137, approved by the Alaska Legislature this year, but not yet signed into law, is projected to raise an additional $9.1 million annually through increased fees beginning in 2017.
A prized salmon catch is an iconic Alaska symbol. A bucket-list item for many travelers to Alaska, it is also a seasonal rite of passage for Alaskans who mark the arrival of summer with endless hours chasing the silver shimmer of dime-bright fish returning from the ocean.
Ship Creek, Anchorage's urban salmon-fishing hot spot, is an easy target for law enforcement. Fishermen anchored elbow-to-elbow on the banks, a phenomenon known as "combat fishing," create a line of their own at which "fish cops" ably nibble, making sure anglers follow the rules.
There is good reason for the scrutiny. Licensing fees generate almost $19 million in revenue each year, nearly two-thirds of which comes from hunting and fishing licenses purchased by out-of-state sportsmen.
Most state residents can afford the $15 fishing license and added $9 surcharge. For those who cannot, a $5 low-income version is available.
As they walk the banks, Alaska State Wildlife Troopers, often referred to as "brownshirts" — a nod to their distinctive brown uniforms — will ask to see identification, a valid fishing license, and, if you're fishing for king salmon, a valid "king stamp," an endorsement placed on the back of the main fishing license for an extra $10.
When he was a younger man, Roderick Jackson, the biological father of our adopted children, had a habit of getting himself sideways with law enforcement. So on Saturday, when a trooper stopped by to do a "chat and check" while he was fishing at Ship Creek, Jackson was relieved to be in compliance.
But the trooper pressed on, asking Jackson if he could prove his eligibility for the $5, low-income fishing license he carried.
Jackson showed the trooper his Quest card, the debit card through which public assistance benefits are delivered to qualifying families, and assured the trooper it was current and not out of date.
Listening to Jackson retell the day's events, my journalist radar began to ping.
Jackson wasn't bothered by any of it, but to me, the scenario seemed outlandish. Had Alaska sunk so low that it was now shaking down economically distressed families as they fished, requiring them to keep W2's or some other proof of poverty alongside their rods, reels and lures?
Let's remember, too, that salmon aren't merely valued for tourism and sport. Salmon fishing is also the foundation for some Alaska Native cultures, predating Outsiders, and in recent years Alaskans have experienced heightened conflicts over who gets to fish and when.
Fish politics are thorny, influenced by state, federal and tribal relationships, resource management, food security (or insecurity) and cultural tradition. Fishing for sport and fishing to fill the freezer, known as a subsistence harvest, fall under different regulations in Alaska.
While HB 137 does not address subsistence harvest, which is managed in other sections of law, the tension inherent in the act of regulation itself sets the backdrop for any discussions on the topic of fishing and hunting in Alaska.
The reality
Turns out, however, my radar misfired.
Alaska law clearly spells out that "a person paying $5 for a resident hunting, trapping and sport fishing license must provide proof of eligibility when requested."
"We're not going to expect them to pull it out of their tackle box," Capt. Rex Leath, Northern Detachment commander for the wildlife troopers, said Tuesday. "We're not asking them to give us their documentation at the scene. We take them at their word 99.9 percent of the time."
Leath explained enforcement isn't intended to single out poor people, but to find and punish those who take advantage of the system by illegally purchasing the cheapest license.
"That's fair to us," Jackson said. "Because it shows everybody else that they have to prove they deserve (a low income license)."
Violators risk an "unsworn falsification" charge, and with it, a possible $10,000 fine and a year in jail. If asked, people have two weeks to provide evidence of their income level.
"It's completely unrealistic to expect someone at the river to carry documentation with them to see if they qualify," Leath said.
Eligibility is met if the license-holder has recently received any type of public assistance or if their yearly family income falls below $8,200, an incredibly outdated number; the federal poverty threshold for Alaska hasn't been that low since the early 1990s.
Most times, violators own up to their mistake right away, Leath said. Last year, of the nearly 100 sportfishing citations issued in Leath's region, 16 went to people who had lied about their eligibility.
Out of the Dark Ages
In 2015, records maintained by the Alaska Department of Fish and Game show 107,332 Alaskans bought resident sportfishing licenses, 18,039 Alaskans bought low-income licenses, and nonresidents purchased 14,742 sportfishing licenses.
The numbers increase when including all of the different types of licenses that include a fishing license, like a combination hunting and fishing license or other specialty license. Combining all types, The Department of Fish and Game's 2015 sportfishing license numbers rise to 190,366 for residents, 288,915 for non-residents.
HB 137, if passed into law, will bring the poverty threshold out of the Dark Ages, raising it to match the U.S Department of Health and Human Services annual income guidelines — currently set at $29,820 for a family of four.
"Times have certainly changed. I think having these levels adjusted to where they should be is appropriate. To use a 24 year-old number is really hard on people with low income," Rep. David Talerico, R-Healy, the bill's sponsor, said during a phone call Wednesday.
The bill would raise the fee for a sportfishing license from $15 to $20, a $5 increase. Nonresident fishing licenses would increase anywhere from $5 to $25, elevating costs from $10 to $75 depending on how many days the individual plans to fish.
The biggest increases are for nonresident big game tag fees, which are doubling. A grizzly tag this summer will cost $500, while next summer it could be $1,000.
The overhaul should allow Fish and Game to generate enough money to sustain its use of federal matching grants while lessening its reliance on the state's undesignated general fund, said Talerico, who estimates the bill's real potential "in the range of $20 million go $30 million."
(Note: This story has been updated to include the total number of 2015 sportfishing licenses issued through all available license types, and to clarify revenue generated from hunting and fishing licenses.)
Jill Burke is a longtime Alaska journalist writing from the center of a busy family life. Her father swore by "Burke's Law No. 1 — never take no for an answer." Meaning, don't give up in the face of adversity. The lesson stuck. Share your ideas with her at jill@alaskadispatch.com, on Facebook or on Twitter.
The views expressed here are the writer's and are not necessarily endorsed by Alaska Dispatch News, which welcomes a broad range of viewpoints. To submit a piece for consideration, email commentary@alaskadispatch.com.