The End?

View of the town with blue sea ice free of its snow cover

My last three weeks in Whale Cove was filled with outdoor activities, mostly thanks to Sean. I don't think I can ever repay his kindness, generosity and thoughtful instructions. On Saturday May 10th. I headed out on the sea ice to make my way to Rankin Inlet. A distance of roughly 90km on the ice and some stretches of land that were both mostly covered with soft snow. Of course once again I needed Sean's help to show me where the trail out of town actually started. The night before, he came by his ATV and I followed him using Andy's ATV out to learn where the Whale Cove - Rankin trail was. It was a 20 minute drive on the rocks and frozen lakes to make it out on the sea ice. He gave me some final advice and we then drove back to town.

High school hunting trip. We managed to get three caribous

So I started my walk about 9am Saturday morning. The backpack, which contained more than fifty pounds of necesities, was painfully heavy. I knew right away that it would be almost impossible to make it all the way to Rankin during the long weekend. But decided to go any ways. I would get to the first stretch of land, 30km out, camp overnight, and reevaluate the situation then. The morning was a bit windy and overcast. I walked for an hour and a hlaf to get out on the sea ice, the begining of the trail.

A  group of hunters on their way from Arviat to Rankin Inlet

I struggled for about another 3 hours before I saw the first snow mobile. It was Paul Kaludjak driving to Rankin Inlet for their fishing derby. Most towns in Nunavut have a fishing derby in May to kick off the arrival of spring. And it is common that many people drive from community to community to take part in the derby. There are worthwhile prizes to be won, but the main reason is keeping the tradition alive. This is also the time many Inuits head out on the land to catch fish, geese, caribou, and muskox and dry their meat. He offered me a ride to Rankin. I politely refused but asked him if he could take my backpack with him and drop it at the first stretch of land. I assured him that I would make it that far and would find my supplies. So he left with my heavy backpack and of course my provision with him.

My neighborhood at 1:30am

Another four hours of walk and I didn't find the backpack. The reason was that the wind had blurred the trail, and I realized I was going in some random direction. Although I could see the land, but it was much wider and more spread out than I had imagined it to be. There was no way I could find it on my own. Luckily I saw the second snowmobile heading to Rankin. This time it was Gordon and his family. They offered me a ride, assuring me they would follow the same path Paul did so I can find my backpack. Sure enough we found it within 15 minutes. Paul had thoughtfully left it on a high rock right on the side of the trail. I thanked Gordon and his family, and started the long process of setting up the tent.

My shelter on the snow

Inside my humble tent

Of course the wind had other ideas. I almost lost the tent twice, before finally finding some very large rocks to anchor it. All in an hour flat. Piece of cake, right! The trip started to feel much better after setting up the shelter. I made some tea, had hot instant noodle and dried my wet pants and socks using a tiny coleman stove. The tent was on the snow, but a thin yoga mat and my light sleeping bag was all I needed to stay warm. The wind was strong and loud, but luckily the tent withstood it all night long. The good thing about it was that I wouldn't have to worry about listening to footsteps of polar bears approaching. It simply was too loud to hear anything but the howl of the wind. So I slept peacefully, with my fully loaded rifle at arm's reach!

Me driving out on the sea ice for the fishing derby

I woke up about 6:30am. The tent was nice and warm, and the wind had finally relented. It felt soo good to just lie there, feel warm in the middle of and on ice and snow. In the arctic finding water is never a problem. In fact it is always just a stone throw away. All I had to do was to unzip the tent's door and get some snow to melt for tea and coffee. I know I sometime sound like advertising for a product, but I truly appreciated the little old style perculator that Sid had given me before I headed out to the arctic. Never had a cup of coffee that good. Ever! Soon I started to pack my belonging and shoving them all in the backpack. I left the backpack on the same spot, hoping either Gordon or Paul will bring it back with them the next day. I grabbed my rifle, termos filled with tea and a plastic bag full of trail mix and figs bars and headed back towards Whale Cove. I knew Rankin was out of reach this time, because of soft snow and heavy backpack. Perhaps next year or the year after.

No luck with ice fishing. Yet!

I took a different route back to town, heading west to the mainland, then southeast back to town. On my way back I saw many ringed seals basking in the sun. Managed to videotape some, but couldn't zoom enough to have a focused still shot. It took me 9 hours to make it back. I started my first break after two hours, then an hour and half, and eventually every half an hour or so. Was feeling the pain in almost every muscle in my both legs. And I thought I was fit. To make the matter worse, my face was stinging from severe sunburn. I carried sunscreen all the way from Vancouver to Whale Cove, but didn't bother taking it with me when it was needed the most. I had a lobster face for the whole week before the red peeled off, luckily.

Brianna caught three chars in less than half an hour!

Once back in town, All I could do was just rest and recover. Monday May 12th was the hamlet day, a territorial holiday in Nunavut. I went out on the bay to watch the festivities and races that would commemorate the holiday. It was loaded with fun. Snowmobile races of all kinds. First towing a kamutiq that had an empty oil barrel on it for about 2km with many turns.

Getting ready for the barrel race

The trick was to drive fast but controlled enough to make sure the barrel stayed on the kamutiq. Next, they had to drag a skin with an empty gas can on top. Again the same procedure. There were also a race where competitors had to drag their partner on a skin. This one using manpower only! All these races were for both man and women and various age groups.

Benjie, his wife Marianne, and duaghter Brianna in the background.

The Victoria day weekend was our twon's fishing derby. First place prize for lake trout and cod was $7000 and $3500 respectively. There were considerable cash prizes for up to 9th place for both species. We went out on the land by the river looking for trout. People go far and away for this event. it is not just for the cash prize and the bragging right. But also a time to enjoy some time with family camping in the wild. In the end the first place prize for trout went to a family who had come here from Arviat, a town about 190km south of here. My good friend George Okalik won the first and third place prizes for the cod. I along with my roommate Andy and three of his friends from Ontario were using George's cabin for most of the weekend. Very generous of George, thank you my friend.

Picnic on the frozen river, 50km from the town.

On the Victoria day we decided to follow Sean and his family to the floe edge to try fishing for cod one last time, and perhaps hunt seals. Cods were not cooperating, but Sean did catch two seals. As soon as the poor seal peeked its head out of the water, we all knew it was doomed. Sean shot it, dead accurately with the first shot. He paddled his kayak out to harpoon and drag it back to the ice. It took him only minutes to skin, gut and chop the meat, with the help of his wife. Just as he was finished with the first seal, up came another one. And sure enough dead with the first shot. He did the exact same thing with second seal. He offered me some fresh raw seal meat which I tried. It was pretty good, really. I have never ever been so at ease with killing of any creature as I have been on the tundra. It is a necessity. And it is comforting how Inuits so carefully and respectfully harvest what they need to survive.

Sean towing the first seal back to the ice.

Dead seal being hauled on the ice.

Sean pulling the catch over on the ice.

Sean and his wife Natasha cleaning the seal.

My last weekend in Whale Cove was spent hunting and fishing out on the tundra with Sean, his younger brother Maka, and another local friend, Michael. We set out on Friday afternoon to his cabin which is about 45 km drive, first on the sea ice and then on the land. We dropped our supplies and headed out on the forzen sections of the river for some ice fishing. There were others out there fishing already. They caught some, but we didn't. I have yet to catch a fish through ice. A skill that apparently takes years to master! We saw a family heading out on the land to a cabin. But they were a bit nervous driving on the melting ice and weren't sure which way was best to go. Of course Sean right away offered to escort them to their destination. We stayed behind to try fishing some more, but still didn't catch any. So back to the cabin we went once Sean was back form his guiding duty. The cabin was nice and warm.

I am trying to cut another hole through the crack on the sea ice

Jelly fish through a crack on the sea ice.

Next morning I stayed behind to film and photograph the tundra, basically relaxing on my last weekend, rather than joining the caribou hunt. I walked and fished, and chatted with locals who had also made the 50km journey to enjoy a picnic on the forzen river. Again I didn't catch any. I could see the arctic chars circling my lures beneath 8 feet of crystal clear ice, but just couldn't convince them to bite the lure. Everyone else, including 10 year old girls were catching them left right and centre! I had tea with them, and as more families joined, I decided to continue on my walk. I walked to open sections of the river where it was very shallow. But at least I could try casting, real fishing that is. Still I caught nothing, exactly as my inuit friends had predicted. Their rational was that the fish were still in the deeper water, waiting to head to the bay later in the month. But I did manage to take some good photos, and videotape myself catching nothing. Geese and cranes were flying over with loud calls, continuously.

A portion of our catch on the last hunting weekend in Whale Cove.

It is disapointing to leave this beautiful place at its most beautiful time of the year. But this is how it is and I surely will appreicate and enjoy it much more next time around. I have been dreading this last post for a very long time. I absolutely hate saying bye, especially to a community that had so generously embraced me and taught me so many lifelong lessons. I have been back in Vancouver for less than 24 hours, but already know that Whale Cove and my Inuit friends are what I miss. I promised everyone that I'll go back, perhaps in a year's time, and I really hope I can fulfil that promise.

My last weekend in Whale Cove fishing the open section of the river.

There is no way I could have done any of the above if it wasn't for Sean. I went there to teach their children, but was taught lessons of survival, hospitality and generosity by the best teacher anyone could have ever had. It is so unfair that people like me go there as experts, while real life expert instructors like Sean and George are not appreciated by the system. I truly wish some day those in charge realize what valuable assets they are overlooking and start finding ways to tap into these vast practical knowledge before it is too late. Thank you my friend, Sean!

Beautiful blue of the sea ice freed from the snow.

With love from Whale Cove!

The Inuksuk

My favorite Inuksuk, on the shores of Aquk, by Sean's cabin

Well, it seems like my time here in lovely Whale Cove is coming to an end. I have 25 days before the end of school year, and quite possibly my experience here. It has been by far my best foray into the unknown. I came up here with an open mind looking for adventure and good friends, instead experienced the expereince of my life with incredible life-long friends. I'll leave this place, its land, ice, and most importantly its people with sadness, but with a promise of coming back regularly.

Souhtern view of the same inuksuk

It has started to warm up finally, and we are experiencing days with single digit negative temperature regularly. In fact today I ran on the soft snow, and puddles of water for the first time since last October. Although it has been much warmer, we have had quite a few blizzards, almost every single weekend since late March. This has been by far the most frustrating and depressing thing for the past 6 weeks. I remember most of my Vancouver friends complaining about having bad weather for weekends. But I can asure them, that it comes nowhere near as frustrating and annoying as it has been here lately. Imagine waiting 6-7 months for warmer weather to get out and do things on the weekend, only to be trapped inside the whole time. As though the mother nature has been playing a cruel game. The only decent non-blizzard weekend so far has been the Easter long weekend when I was away in Winnipeg!

Selfie in front of the Kamutic/sledge on the river ice, complete with my frostbites!

Although bad weather limitted us on our weekend adventure, it didn't entirely kept us from exploring the ice and land. I still managed to head out on the floe edge regularly, sometimes walking all the way out there after work. Days are much longer, we are getting about 18 hours of daylight these days. Longer days and my newly acquired rifle, for safety, gives me much more freedom to explore the sea ice. A couple of weeks ago, on a Friday afternoon, I ventured out on the sea ice to the floe edge. What appeared to be pretty close, ended up being 16km away from the town. It took me two hours to get there. The ice was magical, as usual. 

Beautiful fast ice by the floe edge

The sky over the open water always seems much darker than the sky over the ice. This is how we can tell where the open water can be found once on the sea ice. Even on the cloudiest day you see the dark reflection of dark blue water in the clouds. But out on the open vast ice, what appeared to be only 5 or at most 10km, ended up being over 16 km. The walk back was nice, but a bit painful. I didn't know that walking for four hours with rubber boots is much more taxing on one's feet and legs than wearing trail shoes. Another painful lesson learned.  

My new insurance policy when out and about!

On my way out, I saw a huge dark coloured creature in the middle of what appeared to be endless ice, kilometres away from the floe edge. Tried to see what it was using the scope, but no success. Later when joined by my friend, Sean, who drove his ATV to floe edge, I learned that must have been a bearded seal by its breathing hole. That was confirmed when a few days later we spotted two smaller black things on the ice. And as soon as we turned towards them, they both dived under the ice. He was telling me, there are literally hundreds of those around, but almost impossible to spot, unless there is a seal by them. According to Sean, soon the entire floe edge will be packed with seals basking in the sunshine. Of course more seals on the ice can only mean more polar bears! That is why I carry the rifle with me these days. I am not sure whether that can be of any use, except for its psychological effects.

My local friend, Jacobie, trying his might pulling the sledge on the sea ice!

I am counting on bears being nice and keep focusing on their favorite food, seals, than me when I go for a long walk/hike from Whale Cove to Rankin Inlet next weekend. Ever since seeing the ice, I have been thinking about going for a 2-3 day trek on it. I was told it would be too risky to camp on the floe edge, due to bears and ice breaking away. But I figure walking to Rankin Inlet, about 70km, would be a nice substitude for that.

(https://www.google.ca/maps/@62.5243708,-92.8928728,9z).

View of the frozen river, Aquk, from higher ground

The idea is to walk about 25 km on the sea ice to the first stretch of land where there is a cabin by a fresh water lake. I can spend the night there, and continue the next morning to the next srtech of land, this one being about 5-10km wide. Rest and have lunch there before making my way to the Rankin Inlet. I haven't decided whether to spend two nights ou there, or just one. I guess it all depends on how the weather and ice conditions are when I am out there.

Trying to land an arctic char, greyling or a lake trout at Akuq. Jacobie is much more focused on the task than I am!

Work is going as smoothly as it could, especially now that we are on the home stretch. I have noticed a sharp drop in attendance, mainly due to warmer weather and the traditional activities it brings about. More and more people are spending time in their cabins out on the land, either hunting or fishing. It wont be long before this whole place will be buzzing with the return of migratory birds. It feels as though everything, alive or dead, is awaiting the arrival of temporary guests. It wont be only the birds that come in huge numbers. Arctic chars will start to swim down streams from frozen lakes through the river back to the Hudson Bay; their yearly migrating journey to and from summer salt water habitat to winter fresh water lakes.

The elusive arctic char. Not my catch though, have yet to land one!

On the only nice weekend of the April, our town had their mini fishing derby on nearby frozen lakes. There were people all over the lakes. Families picnicked while trying their luck at fishing. There would be $100 reward for each fish. There were about 23 fish in total, and I was there to help with measuring their length. I only managed to join in on the activity later in the afternoon, as I was away. But it was a fun experience.

Mini fishing derby on a nearby lake

The real and serious fishing derby will take place on the Victoria day long weekend. I am told this is a huge event, and almost everyone will be out there taking part. In fact it is a family event, and entire families pack up and head out on their cabins and favorite lakes in hope of catching the largest fish!

Manu, and Billy chatting while another friend is busy clearing the fishing hole, over 9 feet deep!

Like everyone else I am excited for that event as well. Victoria day long weekend always used to be the start of fun season for me. In the past it was the official opening weekend of the beach guarding, and now it is the fishing derby weekend. It is also the time when spring starts its slow journey to the arctic. Ice will thin out with rivers flowing in more places. I am hoping to catch some of the frenzy of early spring on camera when it happens. These days are warm enough so that batteries last longer and more importantly I can keep my hands out of gloves for longer periods.    

Me chewing on a piece of dried caribou meat the inuit way, biting a bit while cutting the rest using a knife

It is not only fish and seals that locals harvest from the Hudson Bay, they surprisingly catch crabs too. On a fine afternoon, I went on a little excursion out on the sea ice to catch crabs from the ice! The plan was to find areas where there is a large crack on the ice. Clear the snow from the crack, break the top thin layer of ice, and set the trap. Surprisingly the cracks are all over the place some stretching endlessly. But it does take trained eyes to discover them while driving fast.

Sean and his family along with Andy are getting the crab traps ready

The trap is made of an old sock or sleeve of an old sweater filled with gravel with a few bits of chicken or fish. They then cut a few small holes in the fabric, where the crab gets hold of the trap. Once in a while they pull the trap up, and sure enough there will be crabs hanging on the trap. The trick is to quickly grab the crabs as soon as the trap reaches the surface as the crabs will let go of the bait once they come out of the water. Not as easy as one thinks in the freezing -20 degrees temperature! Andy caught 5 crabs that day. 

Home made crab trap/bait

A doomed crab next to the crab trap

Sean and his family drilling a hole on the river ice

Sean having fun climbing a very steep hill then driving back down. Hard as I tried, I couldn't climb the hill on foot!

The Heroes

Search and Rescue team from left to right: Theophile, elder Sam Arualak, and Manu analyzing the routes

Traveling long distances in the extreme harsh environment of the arctic, whether it is from community to community or a hunting trip, is a reality of life in the north. A very risky reality. However the knowledge that there are dedicated local friends who would volunteer their time and risk their lives to help a stranded person is such a comfort to everyone in these communities. I have been lucky to have spent some time watching these guys go over details of coordinating search parties.

Master igloo builder, Sam Arualak, showing us how it is done.

It is easy to stay in the warm comfort of the Hamlet office, but they all go out in the bitter cold, day and night looking for lost people. At times they spend half a day out there searching. I was told by my friends just the thought of someone out there desparately needing help is unbearable. That's why they all come out to help. Tonight was a perfect example. A young guy had left Whale Cove for Rankin Inlet on a snowmobile and had failed to show up there at the projected time, roughly about 5pm yesterday. Search parties from both Rankin Inlet and Whale Cove had been looking for him ever since. It was about 30 hours later, tonight at 10:30pm when they finally found him. It was such an emotional moment. His parents' thankful and tearful voice on local radio station brought everyone to tears. There were still 12 people out there looking for him, including my friend Sean. Now the base had the task of getting hold of the remaining crews to give them the good news and bring them back to their bases. I can't wait to hear how he managed to survive the -45 degrees temperature without a sledge. Experienced hunters and travellers use a sledge to carry survival gears, and to use it as a shelter if needed.

Andy watching Sean and Micahel fix the qamutik

The last time someone froze to death around here was about ten years ago. A hunter headed south looking for caribou and muskox. He got lost due to blizzard and didn't make it back. The search parties themselves were trapped out on the land due to blizzard for five days. By the time the blizzard had passed by it was too late for the hunter. They found his frozen body shortly after the blizzard. He did have a sledge and enough food and material to make it for a couple of days, but not for five or more days.

View of our road on a mild blizzard

Blizzards up here are simply unbelievable. We had one really bad one in January with no visibily what so ever. All I could see was just walls of snow moving by our windows, like a non-stop train. It lasted for more than 36 hours. I did manage to go for short walks during mild blizzards. Short for a reason, as you might be able to walk down wind, well actually run, as the wind pushes you faster than you could possibly walk, but almost impossible to head back up wind. And of course the wind will change the landscape so dramatically. One rarely sees any tracks, even though there are rabiits, foxes, wolves and other wildlife around.

Trying my best to head out in a blizzard. No luck!

Wall of snow passing by the front window!

Aftermath of a blizzard. This is inside of the first door. Luckily we have three doors!

Whale Cove has been buzzing with a couple of school related activities for the past couple of weeks. First we had a group of high school exchange students arrive from Ontario. They were here for a week, mingling with our students, learning about life in a small arctic community. Then we had the SportsNet crew arrive to make a documentary about our school's boys hockey team.

I am doing my best to give Sean a run for his money. In the end I wasn't even close to doing that!

One of our teachers, Andy, had organized a little hockey tournament in his hometown in northern Ontario for our team. It became such a big hit that Northern Ontario's City TV covered it in their breakfast program for a few days. They then decided to bring a SportsNet camera crew here to film the boys in Whale Cove, on their trip to Ontario, and the tournament in Ontario. They also arranged for the boys to attend a Leafs game in Toronto, and a chance at watching them practice. They'll have all of these as a documentary which is going to be aired sometime in the spring.

Sean, kicking the target over 8 feet high! Part of a presentation for the Exchange students and the film crew

We don't get a Spring break, as most teachers do down south, but the upside of it is that we get to finish the school year a month earlier than rest of the country. The added bonus however for me is the extra long days. It is still sunny and bright for another 3-4 hours after work, which gives me ample time to head out for runs on most days. It feels like I have my freedom back again. Luckily there are no bears to worry about either. I am sure they are all out on the floe edge looking for seals than being around town looking for smelly garbage or skinny runners.

Sean and another friend getting the sledges ready

I still head out on the magical floe edge everytime the opportunity arises. I find the ice and its ever-changing appearance as fascinating as anything I have ever seen. Once out on the sea ice, you never know what ice made landscape you might see. Wind, currents and tides change the ice so mush that you rarely get to see the same thinge twice. Where today was a very long lead, open water, that looked like a river might be a perfectly flat ice covered with snow crystals for miles on the next day. You sometime come across makeshit beaches on the sea ice. It is complete with a nice gentle slope towards the water, as the ice thins on the edge.

Sean on the make-shift beach made of ice!

Last weekend Sean, and I and another friend headed out on the floe edge. Out there we met Theophile and his son who were hunting seals. We decided to join them for the hunt. It was a beautiful, sunny but cold day. We took a kayak and they had a little dingy to recover seals. The trick is to shoot the seal with rifle, then paddle out there to retrieve it, often with the help of a harpoon. It is incredible to even contemplate getting out on the water, where often you have to launch the boat from thin ice.

Looking for seals at the floe edge. Theophile is using the scope as a binocular

We spent an hour at the first lead before it was closed completely. We followed Theophile east in search of another lead, open water. It is not always possible to get to open water out there. The best indicator of it is steam rising from warmer water. But there are days that all the leads are closed and you just don't see any open water around. The bay is covered with pack ice and open water. But the pattern is very tricky to predict. There are polynya, areas of open water within the ice pack. These are more permanent open water areas. I was told of one or two around here, about 30km or so away from our town.

Sean waiting for seals

Our second spot was much scarier to navigate. The ice we were driving on was only 2-3 inches thick. Theophile would lead with his snowmobile. He would stop about 100 metres or so before the edge of the water to check the thickness of the ice with a stick that had a long spike tied on its end. He carefully checked the thickness and advised us to proceed with care. We stopped the machines and walked to the edge. The ice was so thin that you could see moisture on the ice, something very rare out here. Any moisture on ice freezes so quickly in other areas. But out here the ever moving water was still seeping through the thin ice.

Theophile launched the boat from a super thin ice edge. I don't think I could ever convince myself in doing that. It felt so cold even watching him paddle out.

Out here, Theophile decided to launch his boat. I guess just for fun, or just to get some well-needed practice! I wish I could describe seeing him paddle out in the steaming water surrounded by moving giant slabs of ice. You have to be out there to realize how cold and dangerous it was. But these guys do it day in and day out. I guess this was the only way of finding food for thousands of years up here.

Another beautiful yet temporary scene on the ice

After another hour or so, our open water shrank to a tiny channel so we decided to move again. This time we headed west. On our path we passed by some high piles of snow and ice that looked liked large containers from the far. This last spot looked like a beautiful beach. There was a gentle slope from the ice to the water's edge. I was almost tempted to go ot there and touch the water. But only managed to get within 5 meters of the edge. At this time the sun was setting on the ice and the full moon rising over the steaming water. We had to be careful, as the ice we were on could separate from the fast(land) any minute. On our way to the edge we had actually crossed over a large gap separating the ice packs.

Our caravan on the ice

So we kept an eye behind as well as scouting the steaming water for seals. There it was at last! Sean waved and pointed my attention towards a large dark thing right in the middle of the rising steam. It was a seal checking out all the commotions. It looked huge, but Sean told me it was just an average ringed seal. It looked large as it was rising way up in order to have a better view of the surroundings.

Sean and Theophile looking for seals

Once out on the floe edge, hunteres break pieces of ice and throw them in the water to create excitement to draw seal's attention. That was the reason for the seal to come closer and check things out. It submerged shortly after. It reappeared a few minutes later, but luckily for it, at a much further distance that our marksmen couldn't get a shot. The entire expereince reminded me of my quiet time on Spanish Banks. Sitting on the log or the rowboat watching harbour seals appear and disappear constantly. But the expereince couldn't have been more different!

My favourite pseudo beach

It wasn't that bad after all, only -45

Theophile and his son starting to launch the boat

Thin ice, we were walking on ice that was less than 5cm thick

My last shot of the day; batteries were drained because of cold. I missed some spectacular shots of moon rising and sun setting over steaming water and ice!