Subscribe and save!
magazine / oct08

October 2008 issue


FEATURE - GRISE FIORD
Cold warriors (Page 5 of 6)
«  PREV   |   NEXT »


FEATURE
Grise Fiord: Cold warriors
Map: Ellesmere Island
Sidebar: The bear facts
CLIMATE CHANGE
Slumping, sinkholes ...
Low-carbon diet
Ellesmere Island Ice Shelves
Geoengineering
Reviews & resources

It’s almost midnight. We’re standing on a smooth patch of new sea ice near Coburg Island, a 2½-hour snowmobile ride east of Grise Fiord and a kilometre or so from the open waters of Baffin Bay. The Lady Ann Strait polynya (open water surrounded by sea ice) has almost completely frozen over, trapping several dozen beluga whales. Jeffrey Qaunaq, his wife Susie, their three sons and Susie’s father, Aksajuk Ningiuk, have invited a few visitors to witness this rarely seen phenomenon.

Beluga whales
A pod of Beluga whales find a break in the ice to come up for air. (Video: Lisa Gregoire)
The wind hits my face like a slap. Swaddled in down and fur, we huddle like penguins beside a hole two metres long and about 30 centimetres wide, and wait. A white adult beluga breaches, blows spray from a valve on top of its head and inhales deeply before plunging back into the indigo aperture. Suddenly, the portal is a churning mass of grey and white bodies, pushing, bobbing, gasping, diving. This would be thrilling if the whales weren’t in such obvious distress.

But a trapped animal is a hunter’s good fortune, and Qaunaq and his family prepare to harvest. Jesse, 12, aims the Second World War-era Enfield .303 rifle into the water. His father stands to his right, ready to harpoon the wounded prey before it sinks. The elder, Ningiuk, is on Jesse’s left; he’ll choose an animal, and on his mark, Jesse will shoot. Twenty minutes pass. Steadfast and eventually encased in a thin layer of ice from the whales’ spray, they are statues in a timeless diorama. Finally, the elder yells, the boy fires, and the father plunges the harpoon into the whale’s rear flank.

How we live could destroy a culture. And that makes climate change an issue of human rights: the right to live connected to the land; the right to be cold.
Ningiuk has seen belugas trapped like this before. But it’s nearly spring, he explains, cracks will soon appear in the ice and the whales should survive. Belugas have copious blubber reserves and the ability to store oxygen in muscles as well as in blood, and can live for months under ice. They bust open air holes with their backs, dive more than 500 metres and feed on cod. Some of these belugas may die. Some may be hunted. But they are patient, tenacious, communal and adaptable, and despite Mother Nature’s trickery, many will live and thrive. They are like the Inuit, who face a similar trickery and the same promising odds.

In one generation, Inuit were swept up by both a social and an economic revolution. In one more, they will undergo an environmental one. “I think Inuit are realizing there’s not a lot they can do to make the changes needed,” says Mary Simon, “and the world community is not addressing these issues.” Nor is Canada.


Advertisement

Watt-Cloutier worries mostly about those responsible for maintaining infrastructure such as community sewage lagoons, water reservoirs, public buildings and mine tailings ponds, all of which could be undermined by melting permafrost. “Our hunters will likely fare better than our institutions,” she says. “They will be challenged, of course. There are more accidents on the ice now, and people are losing their lives and their machines. But they are ingenious, and they are definitely adapting.”

In a time of worrying ambiguity, this, at least, is true. I visit Ningiuk after our trip to the polynya. With the aid of an interpreter, he gives me his observations of the sky, the ice and the wind. Amid his tidy collection of teacups and family photos is a narwhal tusk, a harpoon and a laptop computer. When I ask about the laptop, he smiles proudly. The internet offers quick access to current weather conditions and detailed images of the floe edge and shifting sea ice, he says. Oh, and MSN Messenger is a great way to stay in touch with friends.

top


« PREV  |  NEXT »

Search our sites: ,



Comments on this articleLeave a comment

I've been to Grise Fiord just after a Narwhal slaughter. It was an amazing sight to see the butchered whales seasoning in the open air and the tusks being cleaned by the bacteria in the water. It is a beautiful, tranquil place.

Submitted by SEASIDESUE on Monday, February 07, 2011


What happened to the Beluga trapped in the ice was sad. The video made me feel terrible for these whales who are being killed because they can not get away. I know this was some time back but it is still a sad sight. I lived in the north when this was going on.

Submitted by Lori on Monday, October 06, 2008


Having lived in Grise Fiord the portion of the article "Sunlight 24-hour daylight from May to August 24-hour darkness from October to early February" is not correct. The last sun is seen Nov 3rd and then peeks over the horizon on Feb 11th. Between these dates there is about 10 days of twilight before total darkness sets in.

Submitted by George on Sunday, October 05, 2008


Lisa Gregoire has once again provided your readers with experiences of yet another adventure. She puts you right there along with her. Well done as usual.

Submitted by Paula Wallace on Wednesday, September 17, 2008


Stunning, beautiful photographs!

Submitted by Kelly Vandenberg on Tuesday, September 16, 2008








Canadian Geographic on Facebook

Canadian Geographic on YouTube

Canadian Geographic on Twitter

Canadian Geographic Magazine | Canadian Geographic Travel Magazine
Canadian Atlas Online | Canadian Travel | Mapping & Cartography | Canadian Geographic Photo Club | Kids | Canadian Contests | Canadian Lesson Plans | Blog

Royal Canadian Geographical Society | Canadian Council for Geographic Education | Geography Challenge | Canadian Award for Environmental Innovation

Jobs | Internships | Submission Guidelines

© 2012 Canadian Geographic Enterprises