Fox Farming: 1917 to 1941

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A History of Prince William Sound, Alaska

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As work in the mines declined and the price paid for furs increased, fox farming began to prosper. By 1919, twenty-one fox farmers held Chugach National Forest permits for the Sound's 19 fox farms. At least half of the permit-holders were oldtimers who had arrived before or during the gold rush.

In 1922, the Valdez Dock Company shipped $100,000 worth of fox furs from the Sound's islands to London and Paris. European women preferred the blue or Arctic fox, whereas the tastes of American women leaned towards red fox. By 1925, thirty-four islands had fox farms, and local newspapers were actively encouraging the establishment of more. At this time, blue fox pelts sold at $100-$150 apiece and silver fox from $250-$500. With the stockmarket crash in 1929 and a change in women's tastes, the fur market declined during the 1930s. By 1939, only 15 active fox farms remained.



Most fox farmers let the blue foxes run free on the islands. They were fed in pens near their dens. In December when the kits were about 10 months old and their coats in prime condition, trap doors on the feding pens were released and they were killed. Photo from the Clifton Library.


Fox farming was not an inexpensive proposition. Prior to 1925, a fox farmer could lease any sized island from the Forest Service for $25 a year. After 1925, the Chugach National Forest supervisor gave fox farmers a 3 year start-up period. Permit fees remained $25. After 3 years, the forest supervisor rated the island assigning fees ranging between $50 for smaller islands and a maximum of $250 for larger ones. By the time the farmer made the necessary investment in several breeding pairs at a cost of $300 a pair, bought feed, and constructed fox pens, warehouses to store feed and a habitable home, his outlay was considerable, especially since he would not see a return on his investment for several years. It was estimated in 1923 that a minimum of $7,300 was necessary to start a fox farm.

After purchasing his breeding pairs, the fox farmer's major expense was feeding his stock. During the summer, the farmer could fish for salmon himself or purchase salmon from the canneries. Expensive grains were often imported during the winter months. An enterprising Cordova fox farmer, a surgeon by the name of Dr. Council, came up with a novel idea for cutting feeding expenses for his Green Island fox farm-whale meat! He proposed building a 26 ft. whaling boat replete with three harpoon guns and a crew of two. The boat would be accompanied by a fast launch to help secure the catch. He figured that an 80 ton whale would go a long way towards winter feed. Other fox farmers far from considering him mad began offering him as much a thousand dollars each for any extra whales he might capture.

Fox farming was not only subject to the vagaries of the market which could fluctuate wildly but also weather which could do likewise. In 1923, when London prices ranged as high as 33 pounds a pelt, winter weather was mild, wet and warm resulting in poor and matted pelts. The next year, the winter was cold and dry resulting in prime pelts but by then the market had dropped 20%. Eleven years before the inauguration of Anchorage's famed Fur Rendezvous, Anchorage businessmen started holding "Fox Fairs" where judges set standards and awarded prizes for both live foxes and fox pelts. The Cordova Times wrote; "It is believed that the opening of such an enterprise will result in bringing many buyers, not only of breeding stock for offer as well, and will not only advertise Alaska as the best place to raise fur bearing animals, but will serve as a clearing house for the industry (11/18/24)."

The Sound's fox farmers were exceptional people. They lived in isolated circumstances often not going into a town for over a year at a time. They navigated the Sound in small rowboats even during the winter months. One such voyage almost cost fox farmer J.W. Flemming and his Native companion their lives. The two set out in early February of 1916 from Flemming Island to deliver a pair of breeding foxes to the fox farm on Green Island. As they rowed up Montague Strait, an unexpected winter storm hit. Their small boat was swept towards Montague Island where they were shipwrecked without food or fire. For a month, they survived until they found an old boat on the beach and repaired it. This they rowed and sailed to Powder Point surprising everyone who had long supposed them dead.

The fox farm's remote locations made accidents especially dangerous. In the spring of 1938, John Nelson accidentally shot himself on Olson Island. His wife, who had never learned to row a boat, placed her husband and child in the dory and started rowing for Fairmont Island. Fortunately, Bald-headed Chris Pederson saw her coming and went to the rescue. He managed to flag down a passing motor boat from the Granite Mine which took Nelson to Valdez. Because Valdez had no hospital, the doctor sent him by plane to Seward for surgery.

During prohibition, some fox farmers suddenly showed an interest in the experimental sciences. A number appear to have conducted experiments by increasing the grain allotments for their foxes. When the foxes refused to eat such large quantities of grain and the grain began to spoil, their interest suddenly turned to chemistry. The farmers then attempted to see if they could at least save some of the distillates from the rotten grain. The final phase of experimentation consisted of endeavoring to discover if the distillates could be used as a viable, human food source. If their experiments succeeded, they might even consider sharing some of their discovery with others- for a price.

The advent of radios to Prince William Sound in 1924-25 gave fox farmers a link to the rest of the world. The March 19th, 1925 Cordova Times reported that "The fur breeder has no neighbors and lives alone in his little world, or with one or two members of his immediate family. . . While Mr. Gilmore tunes in he can hear the foxes barking outside and sometimes he can look out the window and see them prowling around the cabin. Otherwise the islands are quiet and often atmospheric conditions are of the very best, the only interference being from ships. Generally, however, the music comes in over the radio so loud it drowns out the annoying clatter of steamers on the air." Reaction of the fox farmers to the radio varied. Sixty year old Duncan Stewart on Bligh Island enjoyed the jazz but thought that "If I'd even have mentioned to my dad when I was a kid the possibility of such a thing as radio in the future . . . he'd have whaled the life out of me."

The depression years brought both a loss in popularity for blue fox and increase in problems for fox farmers. The market for blue foxes dropped significantly. By December 1931, fox farmers were feeling the depression. The customs office reported that only $12,190 worth of blue fox were shipped out of the entire Territory that month-one of the "lightest months in outgoing trade in many years." As the depression deepened, The Valdez Miner ceased to publish information on Alaska's exports. Simultaneously, some fox farms became so badly infested with an intestinal worm that the islands had to be abandoned. Other farmers had difficulty providing suitable food for females and young. Finally, critics noted that "island fox ranching has been found to give inadequate control over the breeding and a consequent deterioration in fur quality (TVN 3/25/38)." The U.S. Forest Service attempted to help fox farmers by reducing rental rates by 50% in 1932. Rents were reduced again in 1938.

Despite the depression, about half the fox farms survived until the war in Europe ended the demand for blue fox furs. As the pioneer fox farmers retired or died, their children continued the farms. Alice Clock at Peak Island was the daughter of Capt. Jim McPherson, while John Beyer on Storey Island was the son of early fur trader, Bill Beyer.' His partner, Edwin Liljegren, was the son of early prospector and fox farmer, Fred Liljegren.