Year: 2016 (page 1 of 3)

Ittoqqortoormiitt Visit: Part 3: Amazing Art

Art seems to flourish in the tiny town. We had a wonderful conversation with the woman who runs the gift shop of the Piareersarfik art school that teaches Ittoqqortoormiit’s inhabitants a mix of traditional and modern crafting techniques. We assumed that the crafts on display were made by teenage students, but the school actually serves adult learners.

As our hostess explained it, Ittoqqortoormiit isn’t big enough to have a high school, so teenagers are sent away to state boarding schools. Overwhelmed by being away from their close-knit community, they don’t always do well in school, and many drop out. After they come home, the school gives them a second chance to learn, at whatever age they decide they are ready to try again.

Items crafted from sealskin.

Items crafted from sealskin.

Many of the crafts on display at the school and the Tourist Office gift shop used traditional materials: walrus tusks, narwhal “horn,” sealskin, musk ox wool and leather, animal furs, bones, teeth, and sinews. These materials are actually easier for the local artists to get than are the glass beads, metal, wood, and plastic that were used in some of the artwork!

Viewing the pillows, mukluks, and other admittedly beautiful wares crafted from sealskin was much more than an aesthetic experience for me.

Coming from the U.S., where marine mammals of all types are protected at the federal level, I was appalled to see their skins being used as crafting material.

 

I must not have been the first tourist to react that way, because a note on the display informed me that at 12 million, the seal population of Greenland far outnumbers the approximately 50,000 humans who call the place home.

It also noted that the sealskin is a mere byproduct of seal hunting, which is done primarily for food. The artists take pride in being able to use the whole animal after its death.

Although there were no sealskin crafts among the souvenirs I purchased, I appreciated the change of perspective. The abundance of seals versus the number of potential human consumers of them made me realize that some resources have to be considered regionally, not globally. And such changes in perspective are, of course, one of the reasons I travel.

For more information, contact ittartshop@yahoo.com

Ittoqqortoormiitt Visit: Part 2: Puppies!

The ground is covered with snow from October until mid-June, and there were still big banks of it all over when we arrived in mid-August. Young sled dogs wander at will and we were greeted at the boat launch where our Zodiacs arrived by an enthusiastic pup who enjoyed belly rubs. One of the highlights was going to a “dog yard” where we got to handle the still-nursing puppies of two very relaxed mama dogs.

I hadn’t heard of Greenland Dogs until this trip. Draft animals with a lineage that stretches back thousands of years, these sled dogs are highly prized possessions, able to work in conditions with which mechanical snow machines just cannot cope. They are not tied to the sled in joined harnesses like the dogs that run the Iditarod, but instead each is attached by it’s own long lead. This makes it easier for the sled driver to release all the dogs if there’s come kind of emergency — falling into a crack in the pack ice, for example — or to release selected dogs to keep a polar bear at bay.

I was surprised to learn that no dogs can be imported to Greenland to protect the breed from having its characteristics watered down. In fact, if a Greenland Dog has to be taken abroad for medical treatment, it is not allowed to return. That’s a big problem in an isolated community that doesn’t have a vet, let alone the kind of veterinary specialists my dog Boomer is all too familiar with! (If you know of a vet interested in making a volunteer visit to Ittoqqortoormiit, have them contact ittartshop@yahoo.com.)

Ittoqqortoormiitt Visit: Part 1

After leaving Svalbard on August 7, our only contact with humans not associated with the Polar Pioneer was a few hours of exploring a tiny town with a big name: Ittoqqortoormiit. (It’s not as hard to pronounce as it looks if you say it quickly: i-tok-a-tor-mit.)

It’s the youngest town I’ve ever set foot in, having been founded in 1924. Tourist ships visit two or three times in summer, and passengers come ashore to learn about local history and the traditional Greenlandic ways of life.

On the east coast of Greenland, overlooking the mouth of the Scoresby Sund system of fjords, this hamlet of less than 500 inhabitants is about as far off the grid as you can get. The Greenlanders who live here have electricity and satellite service including Internet connectivity.

But they have no running water or sewage system — the permafrost penetrates so deep into the ground that such infrastructure is impossible to construct. Dirt roads connect the colorful little houses and commercial buildings that climb up several hills in photogenic ranks.

Let Them Explore…Cake?

One of my favorite excursions in Greenland was what the Polar Pioneer‘s crew called “Gateau Point,” although I think the formal name for the place is Segelsällskapet Fjord.

The nickname was apt, since the definition for the French term gateau is “a rich cake, typically one containing layers of cream or fruit,” and the geological formations we explored were a visual feast.

They were also almost a BILLION years old! This was not the only stop where I wished we had had a geologist aboard who could have given us more information about these amazing structures.

Dressing for Success on an Arctic Excursion

The interior of Polar Pioneer was so warm that I regretted bringing just one tee shirt, and ended up buying two Aurora Expeditions tees for lounging around in. On board I wore polyester knit slacks and a pair of slip-on Sketchers. Going out on deck for air or photos I would don my water-and-wind-proof hooded parka. Although I’m basking in the sun in the photo below, I always had a pair of gloves (thin enough so that I could handle my camera) in one pocket and a knitted watch cap in the other.

Jenna on top deck

The view from the very top deck was spectacular, but the wind generated by the boat’s own motion usually made it too cold to stay for long. Here I am enjoying the sun while the captain picks our way v-e-r-y slowly through a fjord full of icebergs.

Excursions always involved riding in a Zodiac. Some excursions were nothing but boat rides which took us along the faces of calving glaciers, through iceberg lagoons or fields of sea ice, or along the barren, rocky coast. On other excursions we were in the Zodiacs only briefly, to get from ship to shore, where we explored on foot. We generally had two excursions per day, one of each flavor, and I learned to dress slightly differently for each.

Zodiac Excursion Along the Coast

Some excursions were boat-based tours, while others landed us to explore on foot

Zodiac tours involved sitting still, with our butts on rubber pontoons just a couple feet above the near-freezing saltwater we navigated, for up to almost three hours. Although riding in the Zodiac was more comfortable than I expected, our temperatures dropped steadily. We didn’t generate much body heat just sitting and taking photos, and the cold breeze created by the boat’s motion carried away what little we did. My nose usually got uncomfortably cool first, followed by my toes, then my fingers, and finally my ears. What we were seeing was usually so fascinating, though, that while the boat’s driver would ask us every half hour or so if everyone was still comfortable, everyone held out as long as possible before admitting we were ready to return to the ship!

Riding a Zodiac

Riding in the Zodiacs was comfortable in spite of our butts being just feet above nearly frozen saltwater

For our Zodiac tours I wore two pairs of thick hiking socks under knee-high rubber-and-neoprene boots; my warmest long underwear; a pair of knit slacks and long-sleeved knit top; a thin fleece pullover; insulated and waterproof snow pants; the down liner of our expedition parka; the waterproof and windproof hooded shell of our expedition parka; a fleece neck warmer; a fleece-lined water-repellent trapper-style hat with ear flaps that fastened under my chin; wind-proof insulated ski gloves (which made it pretty much impossible to handle a camera!); and, on top of it all, the mandatory life vest.

By the time I was fully suited up, I was about as flexible and graceful as The Michelin Man! Just opening the cabin door was nearly impossible, and going down the flight of stairs to the boat deck felt downright dangerous, although by Day 3 I realized I was so well-padded I probably wouldn’t even get hurt in a fall!

Beach Walk

Land excursions gave us a chance to stretch our legs as well as admire scenery

On our first landing I wore the same layers I had for our maiden Zodiac tour. I nearly passed out from heat prostration as we took a slow, gentle stroll along a flat, firm beach.

Over the next couple landings I figured out that the best layering for anything involving activity was: two pairs of thick hiking socks under knee-high rubber-and-neoprene boots; my lighter long underwear; a thin fleece pullover; rain pants instead of snow pants; my brought-from home light hooded parka; a fleece neck warmer; a knitted watch cap; thin knitted gloves; and, on top of it all, the mandatory life vest.

Warm Weather Walking

We got surprisingly warm on some excursions, removing layers as walked along

I still felt like The Michelin Man, but once we were ashore, I could strip off the life vest, and then could easily remove and replace, as needed, my neck warmer, watch cap, and gloves. On longer walks I often stripped off my light parka and tied it around my waist, slipping it back on if the breeze came up.

Walking across the Arctic tundra in approximately the same outfit I use for winter walks at home along the beaches of Puget Sound made the concept of global warming feel frighteningly real.

Trish models our expedition parka

Trish models our expedition parka

Gearing up for these excursions alongside Trish in our narrow cabin was quite a production. Getting the base layers on was pretty easy, but each layer required a bit more effort and more “elbow room” to keep from accidentally whacking each other, but we gradually figured out how to keep out of each others’ way while also being close enough to lend a hand when needed. Even though we left our gloves for last, with our arms and torsos so layered up we couldn’t bend very well, we almost always had to help each other with the zippers on our parkas and life vests. We were overheating uncomfortably before we even got out the cabin door!

Although we were given a general idea at breakfast or lunch of when our next excursion would be, the plan often changed, and we were given only twenty minutes notice to be out on the bow ready to board the Zodiacs. The first couple of days, as we were still sorting out not only which layers we really needed, but also where in the cabin to keep each item of clothing so it could dry and air between excursions — there were drawers under our bunks, hangers in two lockers, shelves in a third, hooks by the door — it took us closer to half an hour to get out on deck, and we despaired that the last Zodiac would depart without us! They didn’t, of course, and over time gearing up got easier and we got more efficient. By the last few days of our 13-day cruise, we were dressed and on the bow within 10 minutes of the “Zodiacs will be reading in 20 minutes” announcement over the P.A. system.

Cabin 505

Our cabin, number 505, was on deck five. It was a quiet deck and very convenient: we went up one flight of stairs to access the bridge on deck six, and went down one flight of stairs to deck four to access the bar or go out onto the bow deck and load into Zodiacs. It was also easy to step out onto the stern deck for a quick photo opp or breath of fresh air.

Cabin 505

Our cabin was long and narrow but efficiently laid out with lots of built-in storage. I spent a lot of time sitting in my bunk reading and updating my journal, since the bridge was the only indoors public space with a good view.

Life aboard a moving boat is noisy. There’s engine noise, and sometimes noise from the crew or passengers moving around doing things, but also just a lot of creaking and rattling and groaning from the decks and bulkheads. Between the noise and the midnight sun, we were pretty sleep deprived by the end of the trip!

iceberg through porthole

Our window, or porthole, sometimes framed a lovely peek-a-boo view, but it was hard to see anything other than sky unless you were standing right by it. It didn’t open, but it sure let in a lot of light.

To the left in the photo below are two hanging lockers for our jackets and the life vests we had to wear whenever we went out in the Zodiacs. The built-in desk and some small shelves above were lined with green stuff you put under area rugs to keep items we put there from moving around as the boat swayed. We kept our rubber boots and outermost rain gear, which we always wore in the Zodiacs, in the corner by the door. The glinty things mounted on the wall in the right third of the photo are glass tumblers for toothbrushing etc mounted in a custom rack; we hung our name badges on them to remind us which to use. Out of sight to the right is a locker with a bunch of shelves where we stored electronics, camera equipment, hats and gloves, etc. There were two chairs that stacked up for storage that I sometimes pulled out when I got tired of sitting in my bunk.

Cabin Interior

Here is the interior of Cabin 505 as seen from the padded bench near the window.

I never sat at the desk to write, although I probably would have used it if it had been under the porthole instead of staring at a blank wall.

Cabin 505 bathroom

The bathroom was small but the layout was efficient. The bright orange pipe is the hot water for the shower — the orange served to remind us not to touch that pipe it was so hot! The shower drain is in the middle of the floor, and you pulled a shower curtain around you and the shower pipes to keep everything else in the room dry when the shower was in use.

Shipboard Life

Polar Pioneer

Polar Pioneer was our home for 13 nights and days. Our cabin was on deck 5, just below the bridge.

Our days usually started at 6:30 or 7:00 am with expedition leader Henrick’s cheerful greeting over the PA system:  “Good morning, good people.” Trish and I rolled out of our bunks groaning most mornings; a ship underway is noisy, and neither of us could get enough sleep most nights.

Our Deck 5 Cabin

Trish and I had a double cabin with two lower bunks and a private bathroom. There were drawers for storage under each of our beds and under the padded bench seat in between them. We had curtains around each of our bunks, plus a blind to pull across the porthole, and sometimes we needed all of that to escape the 24-hour light!

The schedule for the rest of the day went something like this:

7-8 breakfast buffet

8:30 on deck to get into Zodiacs for an outing

12 back from our outing in time for a delicious hot lunch

1-2 find a spot in the bridge to enjoy the view, get out onto the bow for some sun, or curl up in your bunk or the bar with a book or to edit your photos

2:30 back on deck for another Zodiac outing

6:30 squeeze into the bar for a re-cap of the day, often including a mini-lecture by one of our experts on some highlight we saw

7:30 dinner

8:30 wander from bridge to bar to observation decks taking photos and talking to fellow passengers

MIDNIGHT belatedly remember that the sun doesn’t set here at this time of year and it’s time to try to get some sleep

dining room

Meals were served in two dining rooms that mirrored each other on port and starboard with the serving galley in between. Seats were not assigned, so we chose different dining companions for every meal. During and between meals, coffee and hot water for tea or cocoa was always available, and we could help ourselves to cookies and fresh fruit at all times.

The food, including the vegetarian fare that I ate most days, was excellent.

view from the bridge

The bridge had the best view through these amazing large windows. It was open to us at all times, but we weren’t allowed to take pictures of the interior, and we had to stay quiet so that the helmsman and other crew could concentrate on their work. There was limited space in the bridge, but most passengers were good about taking turns and letting other people take their stations.

the bow deck

The bow deck was a popular spot to catch some rays and look for wildlife when we weren’t moving very fast.

lifeboat muster station

The muster station for the lifeboat on the stern deck made a nice outdoor viewing area protected from the wind, although there was no place to sit.

Jenna on top deck

The view from the very top deck was spectacular, but the wind generated by the boat’s own motion usually made it too cold to stay for long. Here I am enjoying the sun while the captain picks our way v-e-r-y slowly through a fjord full of icebergs.

My Favorite Finds at Paradise Bay and Eskimo Bay

When we landed at both Eskimo Bay and, earlier in the trip, Paradise Bay, most of my shipmates headed off on a hike. A few of us stayed with Carol and did a casual surface-survey near a few of the houses.

Carol takes notes

Carol takes notes on each find: its location, its condition, a description and photos. She can review notes from past visits to track what has changed at a site.

We hoped to find artifacts that Carol hadn’t seen before, and she was also looking for artifacts noted on previous visits, to see how they were weathering.

wooden stick

Wood is incredibly scarce in this tree-free zone above the Arctic circle. This sharpened stick would have been especially prized because of the knot near one end, which was believed to have supernatural meaning.

It turns out I have a good eye for that sort of thing.  Although I don’t have the patience to make a career of it, I found it fascinating to walk slowly and carefully, bent over to scan the ground for anything that looked like it might have been fashioned by a human hand.

Since trash was disposed of by heaping it just outside the houses, there was a surprising amount of broken bone scattered on the surface of the earth.

tooth sockets

A line of holes on this piece turns out to be the tooth sockets in part of a jawbone of a small mammal. Note the other shards of bone around it.

The primary tool for shaping bone was a bow-driven drill — the people who lived here hundreds of years ago didn’t have saws or knives — so I concentrated on looking for small, perfect holes.

round holes

These perfectly round holes were also created by a person. This shard that Carol found seems to have been part of something larger, or perhaps it was a practice piece.

sled runner

This other piece I found at Paradise Bay was probably part of a sled runner. Cord made of animal skin or sinew was laced through the holes so the piece could be lashed to the bottom of a sled.

Also at Paradise Bay, Robyn found a harpoon head. The notes and photos Carol takes of each find are eventually entered into a database that other archaeologists can access.

At Eskimo Bay I made my favorite find: part of what Carol thinks was an amulet! The striking slot-like hole first caught my eye, and when I got down closer I saw that the thin piece of flat bone was decorated by a pattern of lines formed by holes that were not drilled all the way through.

That night back on the ship, Carol used her photo and computer to do a digital re-creation of what the larger piece might have looked like. She thinks this is the upper part, and that another section would have hung below it, but we have no way of knowing what it looked like, or what meaning it carried.

To have found this delicate work of art, held it in my hand, and  imagined the lives of the people who created and used it hundreds of years ago was one of the highlights of my trip!

Bone Treasures in Eskimo Bay

I’ve been fascinated by archaeology since childhood, so getting the opportunity to explore a largely undisturbed site like the settlement at Eskimo Bay was one of the highlights of the trip for me.

With about 45 of us clustered around her (the kayakers arrived a bit later, in a sort of second wave), Carol pointed out the house remains. She coached us to look at the ground and walk gently around the settlement —  never-before-seen artifacts weather out of the ground every season, and it would be easy to crush one before it was even recognized.

She talked a bit about what life was like for the inhabitants, and pointed out features that made the site an ideal village location: a nearby stream, the flat shore good for landing kayaks, and the sheltered nooks and crannies that the people used as work shelters and lookouts.

snow knife

Carol points out a snow knife that has begun weathering out of the ground. Some of the knife is still embedded in the ground, so she covers it with a few flat stones between visits to protect it.

After a bit of searching, Carol found a couple of flat rocks that she remembered from her last visit to the site a couple years ago, and carefully moved them aside to reveal a bone implement — a “knife” used to harvest packed snow to be melted into water. We clustered around, oohed and aahed, and took photos.

snow knife closeup

The snow knife is fashioned from the jawbone of a musk ox. I associated snow knives with igloos, but Carol explained this knife was used to harvest snow or ice to be melted into water.

Meanwhile one of the other guides, Gary, retrieved a cache of bone artifacts that have been gathered over time and set them out on a lichen-covered boulder for us to admire.

worked bone with lens cap

This site is particularly rich in worked bone artifacts. In the past the artifacts have been added to a cached collection as they were found, and the collection is displayed for visitors.

delicate ends

I find the way the ends of these delicate pieces were worked intriguing. Are these tools, ornaments, game pieces, amulets…?

practice piece

Here’s a bit of bone I found with holes drilled through. Ancient Inupiak did not have metal knives or saws. A line of drill holes would perforate bone or shell so they could snap it into pieces. Maybe this was a practice piece?

Our Eskimobogt (Eskimo Bay) Excursion

One of my favorite Zodiac excursions was our stop at Eskimo Bay, a long-abandoned Inupiak settlement up a fjord in Greenland.  Carol, our archaeologist afloat, brought history and prehistory to life with wonderful stories.

There were clearly at least four pit houses in the settlement, one of which a stream is quickly eroding. The main room of each pit house was only a few meters in diameter, small enough that it was warmed in deepest winter by a single seal-fat lamp and the body heat of the ten or so people who called it home.

They had few possessions and did most of the work of survival outside the dwelling. There were no provisions for cooking in the home because they ate a lot of their fish and meat raw — fresh, bloody game actually provides many more nutrients, including vitamin C, than cooked flesh.

Older posts

© 2024 Jenna Kinghorn

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑