Arctic Journey

June-July 2005

This is an article from WaveLength Magazine, available in print in North America and globally on the web.
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by Bill Stinson

Bathurst Inlet—no trees to block the view.

The trees get in the way of the view!” When I first heard this perspective from an Inuit friend of mine, I remember being surprised. How could trees be separated from the view? After spending two weeks kayaking above the Arctic Circle through Bathurst Inlet, I can better understand that opinion.

The Arctic Coast of Northern Canada is well above the treeline, but it hardly deserves the label ‘barren lands’. We identified a dozen species of low lying flowers and shrubs. The land and ocean were alive and prosperous during the short growing season. Caribou, muskox, wolves, and grizzly could be observed as we paddled the bays or hiked the rocky ridges of the inlet. With an around-the clock sun, we had ample opportunity to become observers in this incredibly vast Arctic environment.

To get there, we had to drive to Yellowknife on the northeast shore of Great Slave Lake, then charter a small float plane for the 1,000 km flight to the small community of Bathurst Inlet and Bathurst Inlet Lodge. We had reserved some kayaks from the Lodge and we used these boats for our thirteen day trip. But these light touring kayaks proved to have limited storage capacity, and we were required to pare down our equipment and food to a minimum.

The Lodge is an interesting historical venue catering to naturalists and nature photographers, but our trip wasn’t about the Lodge. We came for the kayaking, and we weren’t disappointed. Our second day found us ice-bound on the edge of Portage Bay. July 6th and the ice had not yet left this large bay! That evening there was an unusual thunder and lightning storm, and by morning the bay was a jumble of ice pans, but passable close to shore. We set out that morning and paddled through the ice pans, some with seals resting on them. We saw caribou feeding along the low hills, and everywhere we camped, we found signs of grizzly.

There was one long evening of bear excitement, when a lanky young bear appeared. As the bear stood up on hind legs to catch a sight or smell of us, I was astonished at how tall it was. We watched it slowly make its way along the shore to our camp, at which point Mark and I went offshore in our boats, shouting at it till it moved off a couple of hundred meters and fell asleep on a snowy bank. It was a long evening sitting and waiting for the bear to wake up and move away. Finally a red fox wandered by the bear, waking it, and it ambled off inland. We went to bed, but not to sleep, listening attentively for the rest of the night.

But it wasn’t really the wildlife or the expanse of land and water that had the most impact upon us. Everywhere we traveled and camped, we saw ancient signs of earlier inhabitants. Lichen covered rocks in a circular pattern were indicators that caribou or sealskin tents had been set up with rocks used to hold down the edges against the extreme winds that occur in this part of the world.

After reading Kabloona in a Yellow Kayak by Victoria Jason in preparation for the trip, I had had a short nylon skirting sewn onto the fly of my tent in anticipation of high winds. The thin soil of the arctic doesn’t allow for tent pegs, and the tumbleweed effect of a dome tent subjected to high winds isn’t a pretty image. The skirting provided a surface onto which we placed rocks, securing the tent to the ground.

The original inhabitants also used large rock slabs to create small caverns for the storage of meat and other supplies. These caches could be identified by inukshuks built to mark the spots. Sometimes the inukshuks were elaborately piled flat rocks that roughly resembled the shape of a person with their arms held out, while others were merely two or three rocks balanced in a tier.

In one camping location on a series of gravel bars rising above the high tide mark, we found the entire area littered with quartzite shards. We learned later that this was an area where inhabitants gathered to replenish their cutting tools. The Bathurst Inlet caribou herd migrates through this area and with some careful observation, we found a series of small inukshuks that appeared to funnel the caribou into a hunting area between some ridges and a river. It was a humbling and overwhelming experience to find such untouched artifacts in the vastness of this Arctic landscape. We were careful not to disturb the sites we found.

We were very conscious of our vulnerability on this journey. We didn’t see another kayaker during the entire trip. We carried a satellite telephone but it would have been too little and too late if a serious emergency had occurred. We paddled safely within contact of each other, ever watchful of changes in weather. While we expressed some anxiety about the winds when we paddled, we relished those same winds when we camped. The mosquitoes were relentless. Bug jackets or headsets were definitely required. Many mealtimes saw us walking along the beach with plate or bowl in hand eating and walking to avoid the bugs. We were even forced to take refuge in our tent on at least four evenings.

The immensity of the unspoiled land and water, the wildlife, the ever present signs of people traveling before us—these are the images that we took away with us. And yes, I can see now how trees can get in the way of the view.

If you go there, Bathurst Inlet Lodge can arrange for your charter to and from Yellowknife, and your kayak rental. Kayakers should consider air transporting their own boats, as the rental kayaks are not expedition level boats.

© Bill Stinson has been kayaking western and northern Canada for a number of years. In between trips, he plans for the next trip. See www.BathurstInletLodge.com, 867-873-2595.