Stupid move: Arctic 3

Heart of the Arctic 3, Friday July 22, 2022

Well, I’ve made some pretty stupid moves in my time and this one is right up there with the best of them. I can’t charge my camera batteries. Yup, you got that right: I very carefully packed the cord labelled EM1 mkii and left the charging cradle at home. I just assumed that I could plug the cable into the camera and it would charge from a normal USB port. Never assume! What elevates this decision one more notch on the bone-headed scale is that I’ve travelled with this camera before. I had it in Australia in 2019. Yes, that’s the trip where I lost the memory card down the side of the airplane seat to travel back and forth between Vancouver and Auckland for all eternity. Is there a pattern here? Is there a message I’m not getting? Anyhoo, I have 1 ½ batteries to last me a month and I have my cell phone, the same one that saved my bacon in Australia.

Today we had a choice of a hike in Sylvia Grinnell territorial park or a walk around Iqaluit. Richard did the hike; I did the town tour. We saw the old Hudson’s Bay post, the dog yard, the museum and the visitors’ centre. I spent a fair amount of time wandering around with my camera taking photos of whatever interested me. Some of the details of this walk may surface later. For now I want to concentrate on something else.

The kudlik

When we got back to the ship the Inuit onboard welcomed us by lighting and tending the kudlik. I’m always amazed at the skill and concentration that goes into keeping the flame of the kudlik burning evenly and with just the right intensity. For Inuit on the land the kudlik was a primary survival tool. This little stone lamp heated snow for water, dried clothing, and cooked food during the long Arctic night.

Simple ingredients: Arctic cotton for the wick, a stone bowl to hold the fuel, a stone platform for the bowl, seal or whale oil, a bow drill to start the fire, and a stick to tend the wick. Bathe the wick in fuel then move the cotton around so that the flame creates an even line burning at a uniform height. Too much flame? Drip some oil onto the hot spot to quench it. Too little flame? Feed a little more fuel to that spot or change the configuration of the wick. Small movements, now tacit knowledge learned through repetition and refinement since childhood. Tonight Crisco oil was the fuel. Use what is easily available. As the stories rolled, the drum beat, and the throat-singers sang, Martha, Nancy, and others took turns tending the light. [Hindsight: I apologize for not keeping track of all the women who tended the light. I was home reviewing the draft when I realized my error.]

After supper we watched John Houston’s film, Songs in Stone: an Arctic journey, the story of his childhood in Cape Dorset and of his return years later to scatter his mother’s ashes in the place where Inuit ingenuity met settler technology to bring Inuit printmaking to the rest of the world. If you get a chance I recommend seeing it. The day was rich in experiences: some wonderful and some not so much. Stay tuned for more on the camera saga.