America’s Imperiled Arctic Wilderness

How can shining a light on America’s Arctic change minds and inform policy?

Yellow-billed Loon and newly hatched chick on Alaska’s Arctic Coastal Plain. Photo by Gerrit Vyn.

The nation’s largest single tract of public land is a 23-million-acre unbroken tundra that’s essential for wildlife, people, and the Earth’s climate.

This globally important region—the breeding and foraging grounds for millions of birds arriving from all seven continents, a place where tens of thousands of caribou roam and birth their calves, and an essential permafrost carbon repository—also bears a name that obscures its true value to the planet: the National Petroleum Reserve–Alaska (NPR-A).

The biggest pieces of federal public land, land that all Americans own, are in Alaska.
Jason Paulsen, Protect the Arctic

The federal government has long recognized the value of the NPR-A, managing the lands and waters as a potential source of oil and as a crucial ecological resource: approximately 13 of the 23 million acres of the NPR-A are designated “Special Areas,” deserving of maximum protection for their vital ecological and cultural value. Despite these designations, not one single acre of the NPR-A is permanently protected, and the pressure from the oil and gas industry to increase drilling in and around these Special Areas is growing.

To ensure nature has a voice, the Protect the Arctic impact campaign is helping people throughout the country learn about and advocate for “America’s Arctic”—the collective term for the NPR-A and the adjacent 19-million-acre Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

America’s Arctic: A Remote Patch Of Oil-Rich Tundra That Teems With Migratory Birds

The stakes for this campaign couldn’t be higher. Over the years, hundreds of test wells have been drilled within NPR-A, and industry has acquired the development rights to 2.5 million of the NPR-A’s 23 million acres.

As policymakers debate the future of these essential and imperiled lands and waters, the Cornell Lab’s Center for Conservation Media is playing an integral role in Protect the Arctic’s nationwide effort to raise awareness and stoke protective action through engaging films that can reach millions of Americans.

“The biggest pieces of federal public land, land that all Americans own, are in Alaska… an incredibly difficult place for the average American to ever get to see and appreciate,” says Jason Paulsen with the Protect the Arctic campaign. “We rely on photography and videography of the highest caliber, filmmakers who can go up to these remote places and capture those sounds and images, and then tell the stories of their importance and value, and bring that experience back down to all Americans.”

Jason adds, “Couple that with a reputation for scientific integrity and it would be hard to imagine a better partner than the Cornell Lab and Gerrit Vyn for filming and sharing these special places.”

A tall cinnamon, colored bird with a long, thin bill, stands in a low field of flowers. — Male Bar-tailed Godwit. *Photo by Gerrit Vyn.*

Two patterned ducks with big black bills, take flight from the wet tundra ground. — Male Bar-tailed Godwit. *Photo by Gerrit Vyn.*

A Photographer on the Tundra

It was 30 years ago that aspiring 25-year-old wildlife photographer Gerrit Vyn first laid eyes on Alaska’s Arctic tundra. In the intervening decades, he has returned 15 times to learn about and document the universe of wildlife and lands of America’s Arctic. Now, Gerrit is a producer for the Center for Conservation Media with decades of experience capturing the sights and sounds of remote landscapes and turning them into emotionally charged films that boost conservation efforts around the globe.

In partnership with Protect the Arctic, Gerrit and his team spent six weeks during the summer of 2022 capturing one-of-a-kind footage from Teshekpuk Lake, the largest of the NPR-A’s Special Areas. The resulting 19-minute film, America’s Arctic: Teshekpuk Lake, features massive flocks of King Eider, spectacular Buff-breasted Sandpiper courtship displays, and adorable newly hatched Bar-tailed Godwit chicks.

The film America’s Arctic: Teshekpuk Lake, was watched more than 50,000 times in just the first three months of release. In the summer of 2024, Gerrit Vyn returned to the NPR-A to capture footage of Colville River, another one of the Special Areas. Says Jason Paulsen of Protect the Arctic: “We’re committed to finding every way possible to capture imagery from America’s Arctic… so it reaches as many people as possible.”

Show Transcript

[Text on screen] MAY 10
NARRATOR: In the remote coastal fringes of northern Alaska, a brief window is opening. Winter’s darkness is yielding to a sun that won’t set for the next 3 months. As days lengthen, birds return, and life is given another chance. Eiders, traveling more than a thousand miles from wintering areas in the Pacific, are impatiently pushing north to breed. They follow the open water, the cracks in the sea ice. At the peak of their migration, hundreds of thousands can pass this point in a single day. Males are adorned in the bright colors of courtship, females in colors that will hide their nests. Their success will be measured by the number of young they can produce before this seasonal window closes.

The Eiders won’t be alone–dozens of other species and millions of individual birds are coursing northward from distant parts of the globe, making their annual return to the lands where they were born. Coming to usher in a new generation in one of the most important arctic wetlands in the world.

[Text on screen] AMERICA’S ARCTIC. Teshekpuk Wetlands
[Text on screen] JUNE 1
After traveling great distances to Alaska’s northernmost wetlands, the first order of business for most birds is finding a meal. Where there’s water there’s food, and open water attracts a crowd. The Teshekpuk wetlands provide something for everyone. Birds can find food here regardless of how they feed or what they prefer to eat. Greater White-fronted Geese work the exposed tundra to get at the nutritious roots of grasses and sedges. Stilt Sandpipers and Long-billed Dowitchers probe for invertebrates and pick last season’s seeds released from the thawing ice. And Pacific Loons pursue fish along the open edges of tundra ponds. The abundant food that birds find in these wetlands fuels the breeding season. For birds that arrived alone, that means it’s time to find a mate.

[Text on screen] JUNE 10
Standing about 4 inches tall and weighing no more than six nickels, this male Semipalmated Sandpiper has flown from the northeast coast of South America to the very same territory he held last year. When you’re a small bird trying to stand out in a vast windswept landscape you need a strategy for attracting attention.

The male Semipalmated Sandpiper takes to the air. He’ll spend nearly 4 hours a day in flight, fluttering above the tundra, vocalizing a constant stream of gurgles and trills that advertise his presence. If this sandpiper is lucky, his mate from last year will find him and they’ll nest again.

The male Buff-breasted Sandpiper is also small but he has a completely different approach for attracting attention. Everything about his appearance resembles his surroundings except one… Nothing stands out on this landscape like a brilliant flash of white. His relentless wing waving advertises his presence to passing females. He’s flown all the way from Argentina to be here, to compete with other males that maintain territories immediately adjacent to his. If he’s flashier than the others, maybe he’ll get the first shot at finding a mate.

When wing waving doesn’t do the trick, he turns it up a notch. Maybe getting off the ground will get him noticed. His hard work appears to be paying off. A female has arrived on his territory. Turning his back to her he preens his feathers, enticing her to come closer. When she’s close enough, the real show begins. The sound and appearance of his courtship display are meant to impress. She carefully inspects every detail until she’s made her choice. Once they’ve mated the relationship ends, and she departs to nest and raise their chicks alone.

[Text on screen] JUNE 20
Shorebird nests are exquisite–4 eggs, perfectly arranged for incubation and heat retention. Camouflaged and tucked neatly into the vegetation, their appearance is what keeps them safe. From above the bird and nest are a perfect match for their surroundings. When still, shorebirds, like this Dunlin, virtually disappear.

If shorebirds are the masters of camouflage, Tundra Swans are the opposite. This couple used the same nest last year, but it needs some updating. The added height will provide a good vantage point to watch for predators that prowl the landscape.

Birds of the Arctic aren’t just faithful to their nests; many are faithful to each other. These Tundra Swans are lifelong mates returning each year from the marshes of Chesapeake Bay to the very piece of tundra they have occupied for years.

King Eider pairs will often establish a nest in the female’s place of birth. While’s she’s producing eggs her mate will remain close by, guarding her so she can feed and rest undisturbed. And Long-tailed jaegers spend 10 months at sea before reuniting each year on the tundra to nest and raise their chicks.

Each species manages the breeding season differently, but the goal is always the same. In the case of this Yellow-billed Loon pair, the goal is to keep their 2 eggs safe and warm for the next 4 weeks. It’s difficult to overstate the extent of wetlands on Alaska’s Arctic Coastal Plain. Lakes, ponds, rivers, and wet meadows form a mosaic of tundra habitats that are irresistible to birdlife.

[Map graphic showing Arctic Ocean and Brooks Range]
Located between the Brooks Range to the South and the Arctic Ocean to the North, the Arctic Coastal Plain stretches for hundreds of miles across Northern Alaska. Underlain with permafrost and sitting less than a hundred meters above sea-level, the region is more water than land. The expansive wetlands concentrated around Teshekpuk Lake are especially productive for birdlife, with some of the highest known densities of breeding shorebirds anywhere on earth.

Birds fan out across this landscape and nest here in astonishing numbers. The coastal plain provides vast tracts of undisturbed habitat and an abundance of food. Summer produces an explosion of insect life and plant growth and twenty-four hours of daylight provides the opportunity to feed around the clock. The abundant resources fuel a short but rapid reproductive season, drawing millions of birds from around the world year after year.

[Text on screen] JULY 06
Almost a month has passed, and patience is paying off at the lakeside nest of the Yellow-billed Loons. Being a good loon parent means providing a steady supply of fish that are just the right size for your finicky chick. Within days of hatching, loon chicks join their parents on the lake and begin a life spent almost entirely on or under the water.

All across the tundra, the landscape is becoming a nursery for hungry baby birds. Shorebird chicks are on their own when it comes to food. Within hours of hatching, they begin to explore the tundra around their nest in search of their first meal. They won’t stray too far at this point, and still rely on their parents for warmth and protection. Most have only 2 months before they’ll need to be strong enough to make their migration south.

If one thing’s for certain, it’s that chicks born on Alaska’s arctic coastal plain have a long way to go. Greater White-fronted Goose chicks will follow their parents to the coastal marshes of Texas and Louisiana. Brant will travel the Pacific Coast to Mexico. American Golden Plovers, Pectoral Sandpipers, and Buff-breasted Sandpipers will spend their winters in Argentina and Uruguay. Red Phalaropes and Long-tailed Jaegers winter far at sea off the coasts of Peru and Chile. Dunlin, Red-throated and Yellow-billed loons will return to the coasts of China, Japan, and Korea. And many other species will migrate to wintering areas across North America. But perhaps most remarkable are the Bar-tailed Godwits. Their chicks, just 2 months after hatching, will travel nearly the entire length of the Pacific Ocean on a nonstop 7,000-mile flight to New Zealand.

While most of the US is enjoying the last warm days of summer, the window for birdlife is rapidly closing in the arctic. Red Phalaropes are gathering on the arctic coast, preparing for the next 9 months at sea. The last remaining family groups of geese are waiting for just the right winds to usher them south. And young Arctic Terns are about to embark on a journey that, over their lifetime, can take them the equivalent distance of traveling to the moon – and back.

Yet, as they cross the globe, always on the wing in search of food, they’ll never fail to return each year to this place. The birds born here, like their parents before them, will be forever devoted to this land. No matter what corners of the globe they may occupy, or how far they may travel, it’s these vast wetlands, their birthplace, that they’ll always have in common. The place they’ll return to year after year, retracing the very steps of their own birth, taking advantage of a brief window to usher in a new generation of life in the pristine expanse of America’s Arctic.

[Text on screen] AMERICA’S ARCTIC. Teshekpuk Wetlands
[Credits][Text on screen] Produced by The Cornell Lab of Ornithology in association with Campion Foundation. Producer Gerrit Vyn; Editor Eric Liner; Written by Eric Liner, Gerrit Vyn; Executive Producer John Bowman; Narrator Betsy Winchester; Science Editor Irene Liu; Cinematography Gerrit Vyn, Neil Rettig, Florian Schulz, Eric Liner, Michael Mauro, Shane Moore, Matt Aeberhard, Tim Laman; Animations Jeff Romero; Color Darren Hartman; Sound Michael “Gonzo” Gandsey

[Credits][Text on screen] Additional Sound Recordings Macaulay Library at the Cornell Lab of Ornithology; Field Audio Jamie Drysdale, Gerrit Vyn; Camera Assistants Jamie Drysdale, Nicole Frey, Evan Vacek, Tom Zimmer; Field Production Manager Emil Herrera-Schulz; Arctic Field Logistics Florian Schulz Productions; Unit Production Manager Chris Corrigan; Media Management Silvia Briga, Sara Carter Conley; Accounting Vanessa Powell, Karen Workman; General Migration Routes Provided By Autumn-Lynn Harrison, Bart Kempenaers, Rick Lanctot, Vijay Patil, Sara Saalfeld, Candace Stenzel, Lee Tibbetts, David Ward, Global Flyway Network, Max Planck Institute, U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, USGS Alaska Science Center, USGS Bird Banding Laboratory

[Credits][Text on screen] Special Thanks: Samantha Beaman, Helen Cherullo, James Fulcher, Rick Lanctot, Joe Liebezeit, Erika Lundahl, Ru Mahoney, Rebecca McGuire, Debbie Nigro, Amy Peloza, Kayla Scheimreif, Barrow Whaling Captains Association, Bureau of Land Management, Community of Utqiagvik, North Slope Borough, UIC Science

End of Transcript

Ongoing Challenges, Hope for the Future

In March 2023, the Biden administration approved the Willow project, one of three proposed projects in the reserve, which would drill for oil along one edge of Teshekpuk Lake. This development would necessitate hundreds of miles of roads and pipelines, an airstrip, a mine, and hundreds of wells to the area, and the resulting emissions would be like adding two million cars to the nation’s roads every year of the project’s life.

But on the heels of the release of the Teshekpuk Lake film came a step in the right direction: In April, the Biden administration finalized protections for the Special Areas of the NPR-A. According to Nicole Gentile of the Center for American Progress, this new rule will be difficult for subsequent administrations to overturn, both because of the legal hoops to jump through, and because “in the public mind once something is protected, rolling that back is deeply unpopular.”

Gerrit says that some in the industry call Willow “the next big hub for oil and gas, from which they would expand across the NPR-A. Each concession to drilling infrastructure is permanent. Birds and wilderness, in turn, need permanent protections in the NPR-A Special Areas that can’t be undone.”