Day 42 (June 25). Tour to Tuk and the Arctic Ocean

From: Inuvik, NWT

To: Inuvik, NWT

Miles today: 0

Total miles: 9439

Today was one of the centerpieces of the entire journey: a guided tour down the Mackenzie River delta from Inuvik to Tuktoyaktuk (often referred to as just “Tuk”) on the Arctic Ocean.  Our tour guide was a young aboriginal (he was actually a mix of different groups) named Kylik Kisoun Taylor, the driving force behind Up North Tours.  There were seven passengers on this tour: a retired couple from Canada, a young couple from London, a Frenchman now living in Quebec, a Scot from Glasgow, and me.

The first half of the day was spent in a small but powerful boat that muscled us down the river.  This was a utilitarian craft; seating space was limited and it was too loud to talk very much. But we had to cover more than 100 miles; even so it took us from 7 am to 1 pm to reach Tuk, albeit with two stops.  The first was at a now abandoned fueling station, and given to us mostly to stretch our legs. The second was at a place marked on the maps as the town of Kittigazuit, but which was in fact a seasonal “whaling camp” used by our guide’s family and other relatives from the Inuvik area to hunt Beluga whales. At first glance the place looked abandoned, but closer inspection showed it to be a habitable and operable worksite.  Kylik showed us his name that he scratched on the wall of the living quarters when he was eleven and spent his first season there. We also had an opportunity to walk around the surrounding tundra a bit.  The ground is soft and spongy, and somewhat difficult to walk on. It seems like it would be very easy to get turned around and lost in such an environment; we were later told that those who live there use “Pingos” (unique arctic hills that are essentially large permafrost heaves) as landmarks, as well as high points to look for game. 

Tundra around Kittigazurt; a pingo in the distance.

The second part of the tour was of the town of Tuk itself, along with visits to some of the people who lived there.  Tuk is actually a big town for this part of the world; over a thousand people. It has an airport, and (as far as I could tell) one combination general store (with groceries) and gas station.  As part of lunch, Kylik and our Tuk host, John, offered us the rare treat of  eat raw beluga whale skin (really skin, cartilage, and blubber), a traditional staple of the locals for millennia.  Part of the deal the Canadian Government made with its aboriginal people is that the latter (and only the latter) could hunt and consume whales, but could not sell the products to non-aboriginals. That is, if you are “white,” you cannot buy this stuff; we were being offered a sample as a gift.  Most of the group managed to turn down this offer, but I could not resist.  It was not quite as horrible as you might think, but the cartilage – in my opinion only – was truly disgusting. 

Our tour guide, Kylik, holding a piece of Mukluk (?), which is Beluga whale skin, cartilage, and blubber.  

After this (and more conventional fare) for lunch, which we had at John’s house, we were offered the opportunity to wade in to the Arctic Ocean itself; his house was right on the shore.  Who could say no to that?  Certainly not me.  The beach was mostly rounded rocks with some sand, and the water itself was quite warm, as was the day.  (This was a shallow inlet, and the water heats up in the 24-hour sunshine.)  There were no waves to speak of, and the water was ot terribly salty due to the large influx of fresh water from the Mackenzie River.  John then took over Tour Guide duties, and drove us around Tuk in a large minivan for a couple of hours, with several stops. One of my favorites was a small rise that overlooks the town and the ocean.  Here are a couple of “glory shot” photos of yours truly.

Left: Ankle-deep in the Arctic.  The water was actually warm and the air was 85 degrees; the jacket was for the mosquitoes.  Right: On a rise overlooking the town of Tuk, with the Arctic Ocean behind it. 

Part of the price of the trip was an airplane ride back to Inuvik, and so we ended up at the airport. The type of plane was not specified, and it turned out to be two small, fairly ancient 4-passenger Cessna aircraft; the seven of us could not all fit in one.  The pilots asked each of us for our weight, and they divided up the seating (and positions left or right in the planes) based on this.  The ride itself was actually very smooth, and getting to see this amazing tundra environment from the air was one of the highlights of the day.  Here are a couple of shots I took out the window. 

Summer tundra from the air

Before I end this section, I will offer a few thoughts on what I see as the dilemma of the indigenous people within Canada.  Their dilemma is that they cannot really go back to the pre-European way of life, and yet they do not want to fully join a culture that they do not consider their own.  They drive trucks, wear western clothes, use cell phones, and complain about the low quality and high cost of Internet service.  Most live in houses; more fundamentally, many live in towns now (like Tuk), which their ancestors never did.  Yet at the same time they seem to have little interest in moving permanently to (say) Edmonton or Houston, though many have spent some years in those cities; marrying into other ethnic groups; or encouraging their kids to become doctors, lawyers, or engineers. So they hunt and eat whales and caribou, but do so with motorboats, four-wheelers, and rifles. One reason one man gave me for eating so much caribou meat and so little beef is that they cannot afford to buy beef in the store very often (they also don’t like it), which in turn is due to the fact that there are few jobs around.  (Jobs?  With salaries? A western concept)  They are only living parts of their traditional way of life; they regret the loss, but at the same time know they will never give up gasoline.  Depression and the health problems that come with it are high in these communities, even though they have won many rights of self-determination.  I think they are trying to create something new, a hybrid of traditional and western cultures.  They may succeed, but I don’t get the impression that as a community they are very hopeful about the future.  I  have no answers.

I also have to say something about the mosquitoes up here on the tundra.  There are mosquitoes everywhere in the world, it seems, and certainly in Virginia where I come from.  But not like these mosquitoes. In Virginia, they really only bother you in the evening, and a little bug spray solves most of the issues.  Up here they are out 24/7 when the weather is warm, and they are extremely aggressive. The density of mosquitoes per cubic inch is staggering.  You don’t dare stop moving.  It is not just humans that are driven crazy; our guide told us of loyal family dogs that would growl fiercely when he tried to put them outside in mosquito weather.  I asked one local how they traversed the marshy tundra during the summer, and he replied that they didn’t; they just used kayaks through the waterways. He added that this worked because the moose that they were hunting stayed near the edges of the land, not venturing into the interiors, because the breezes over the water mitigated the mosquito swarms.  Mosquitoes dominate your attention up here like nowhere else I have ever seen.  I can see how they would even help you appreciate the long, cold, mosquito-free winters.