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| Pangnirtung means land of the big male caribou |
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| A local sled for ice fishing and hunting waits for winter |
We pile ashore from the zodiacs, filling the wee village with our distinctive red outdoor gear, but all the locals seem to be out in the streets today too. Everyone waves and smiles as we wander between the Parks Canada interpretive centre, the Art Collective buildings, and the Coop and Northern stores. Most passengers seem desperate for some retail therapy and head immediately to the gallery shop, so we hike up to the cemetery. Neat rows of white crosses line the rocky benchland - how awful it must be to dig a grave size hole here in the permafrost. The view is lovely however - a breakwater encloses a small boat basin below, and all manner of workmanlike boats are at the docks or up on the shingle. The original Hudson Bay Company buildings are freshly painted down by the shore, so we head over to explore.
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| The fish boat harbour, a welcome development from the federal government, and the only one in the territory |
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| The blubber processing and packing plant |
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| A summer camp, heated with a coleman stove and seal oil lamp |
Pangnirtung was only developed to service the bowhead whaling fleet in this fiord in the 19th century. The Hudson Bay Company and the RCMP were first here, then the Inuit gradually moved in for the land as their traditional lifestyle perished. An epidemic of distemper that killed off many of their dogs in 1921 was the final straw for many families. Traditional crafts have been preserved luckily, and Inuktitut is spoken everywhere. Hunting and fishing have survived the move into town too. At the community centre young volunteers offer us bowls of steaming hot soup - arctic char or beluga! I choose beluga, with a great deal of ambivalence, but I feel that it would be hypocritical for me to eat steak tonight for dinner if I refuse the local fare. It is delicious soup, but beluga looks and tastes surprisingly like tofu. It is a mainstay of the local diet, a sustainable harvest, and a carefully regulated hunt. I wonder if we can really argue with that.
We are entertained by young dancers and singers who perform with energy and grace. Everyone from the village seems to be in attendance. Several ancient looking elders grin toothlessly and clap time. Moms and babies, clusters of teens, men with ballcaps and workboots all mix with us and chat. We discover the common language of hockey when we spot a Montreal Canadiens hat - 'Habs eh?' 'We're Canuck fans' earns a big thumbs up. I have seldom felt so welcome or so proud to be Canadian.
We check out some of the weavings, the prints, and especially the carvings. Much of the intricate work is done with walrus tusk ivory, which most of the foreign tourists on the ship are not allowed to import. I buy a pair of tiny perfect seal earrings and wish I could afford a larger stone carving too. But we will have time later in Iqaluit, so I will exercise patience today. Judging by the number of bulging backpacks returning to the ship, I think we've injected a healthy dose of currency into the local economy.
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| Detail from a large weaving depicting local life |
This trip has forced me to suspend some judgements that I arrived in the north with. The harvesting of exotic species like beluga, walrus, narwhal, seal and polar bear may seem barbaric to those of us who can shop at a supermarket and a mall, but here it is a way of life, a cultural heritage, and a financial necessity. The Inuit honour and respect these animals that have given them food, clothing, tools and shelter for generations, and I have to discount my southern bias that opposes hunting them. The world is a complex organism, and we need to be mindful of its diversity.
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| Akademik Ioffe at anchor off the breakwater in Pangnirtung |
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