On the Land - Part Two

I think this is as close to the land as I’m going to get this trip. When you consider how far we are from town, etc., it makes me a little nervous. The Inuks think nothing of it. They travel 10 hours by snow machine pulling their sled on their way to visit family and friends at Baker Lake. The folks living at Whale Cove are just a stone’s throw in comparison. No GPS (I don’t know if they even work up here) they use subtle landmarks seen in the distance to guide and steer their way.

They talk here about those that were lost and found. Most recently and I think it was last year. Search and rescue guys found them after quite a few days. They were placed of the sleds covered with skins for warmth and by the time they got back to town only frostbite was on one guys heel. Two days later the same guys headed back to their original destination by snow machine.

Yesterday, while out on the tundra we looked far to the horizon. The beautiful blue sky looked spectacular. In the distance you could see a haze of sorts. Sam said he wished he had learned more from the elders about the sky and the weather. He said he was taught as a youngster how to find his way back to Rankin Inlet. A certain star should be followed.

We went out quite a distance to where we could see cabins. He explained that these were the cabins of relatives. He pointed out other far in the distance. We then turned around and passed the golf course again and went out past the end of the runway to where the new municipal dump is scheduled to open. It may not ever…more later. Arriving back into town we past the large lengths of snow fencing that protect the hamlet’s houses from the severe blowing of snow that happens here in march and early april. We went back along another road and over to the side of town where the barges arrive and the docks are located.

This year in September, I believe, several barges were being towed by a tug into the area when a storm hit and they were quite a ways out from town. The severe blowing winds and cold formed ice on the load and it almost sunk. New cars, both in shipping containers and on deck, were ice coated as well as products for other communities that haven’t made it there yet. The containers are still here and may be shipped overland by huge sled trains across the snow and ice later in the winter. A similar thing happened to the oil tanker. It almost stayed the winter but got out after much ice breaking. It was in a larger bay area the other side of town.

The sun was starting to fade as we headed home after a long excursion in daylight hours.
The colours reflecting on the ice changed as the sun was setting. You could see headlights coming back to town across this frozen desert. They moved and bounced and jiggled as they made their way home for the night. The sled of caribou carcasses, sitting by the road, decreased by one, each time someone came from the shed to butcher the meat.

Talking to one of the hunters there today he told me that those caribou were shot in late September or October and buried in the ground in order to get the moss scent to permeate the meat and act as a tenderizer. How do I know if he’s pulling my leg? I don’t. I’ll let you decide.