When on the ice, always look before you pee

I now take the reader back a bit over one month ago, either to the final minutes of May 10 or the opening minutes of May 11. I am unsure which day it was, I only know it was right about midnight, so it could have been either one. It is true that my camera stamps the time shot into the metadata of each image, but it is also true that I have only had this camera for about four years and so have not yet found the time to set the time.

Anyway, it was right about midnight, May 10 - 11, the final full night of my last trip up north. I was in the Saggan whaling camp of Edward Itta, Mayor of the North Slope Borough, and I realized that it was time to visit the latrine.

The people who know the ice will tell you that when on it, you must always be alert and prepared for polar bears. You, or someone nearby, must always have a good rifle or slug-loaded shotgun handy, just in case. I did not have a weapon with me, but this was not really a problem because everyone else in camp did and their eyes are sharp and they are always looking.

As noted, I had to go, so I left the spot at the blind where I had been with the others, watching for bowhead, and walked to the latrine, which was located in the cracks at the base of one of a multitude of ice upheavals. I didn't think much about anything, but just got straight to business.

About three-quarters away through my task, it suddenly occurred to me that had I done all this without even bothering to look about for polar bears. So I raised my head. What you see above is what I saw.

The thing at the bottom of the picture is the windscreen of a snowmachine.

I was in no real danger, because as noted, those whom I was with are sharp-eyed, well-armed, and always looking and even though their attention was focused primarily in the opposite direction, from which a whale might come, they, too, had spotted the bear and began to call out to me, just to be certain that I knew there was a photo opportunity in front of me.

The bear spent some time studying us from various vantage points, pooped, and then moved along to the northeast.

Within an hour or so of when I took these pictures, the wind had turned to the southwest. Ice was advancing, the lead was closing and we had to pull back.

The happenings of the next 30 hours or so are among the most frustrating happenings of this year for me ever in my career. In the hope that a whale would come to this camp, I had already delayed my departure by a couple of days over my plan. I needed to get home, prepare a few things and then head to Tok and Fairbanks to cover the honoring of Ahtna elder Dr. Katie John, but I had held off pushed my departure back to the last moment.

Twelve hours after I had left Barrow, the lead had reopened, conditions had become good, a bowhead came to the Saggan crew and they accepted its gift. For them, for the Iñupiat community of Barrow, I was happy and grateful.

For me, I was devastated. Absolutely. Devastated. Crushed, you could say. No one can know when a whale will come or what crew it will go to. Sometimes, several seasons can pass by without one coming to where you wait. Yet, this time, if I had stayed one more day, I would have been there when the Saggan whale came.

Then, of course, I would have missed Katie John receiving her honorary Doctor of Laws degree and that would have left me devastated as well. 

Sometimes, there is no winning, even when you do win - because I absolutely did win. To be there for all of Katie's honoring was a win... it was a special, once in a lifetime - a long and great lifetime - event, and I had to be there. I just had to.

But I still feel sick inside to have missed the Saggan whale.

What a beautiful, special, event that would have been and how honored I would have felt to have stood as a witness of it.

Originally, I had planned to post coverage of what I saw and experienced that trip to Barrow to the same degree that I posted Point Hope. Although I missed the final event, I none-the-less got several pictures that I believe many readers would have found amazing.

But I did not anticipate how long it would take me and it is just too late, now. Soon, I will be back in Barrow and at the rate I have been going I would still posting my last trip and people would think the snow never ever melts in Barrow, which it does, as you will soon see, right here, on this blog, if I but move along and stay in the present.

So, except for this bear and at least one people story I will yet work in, I am going to drop that coverage for now.

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Leaving Tikigag: the flight from Point Hope to Barrow

As always happens, the time soon came when I would have to leave Point Hope and it came earlier than I wanted or would have planned - were it not for the Era schedule. Era is the only air carrier that links Point Hope and Barrow and they only fly twice a week - Tuesday and Thursday; $410 for a one-way ticket. This will give you an idea how expensive it came be to travel about the Arctic Slope.

I wanted to stay at least through the high school graduation on Friday but I needed to be in Barrow no later than Monday, so I had to go Thursday.

At nighttime before I left, I saw Jesse Jr. walking home. 

He and his brothers would now get their room back.

Many decades separate us, but Jesse and his brothers all felt like friends now.

On May 5, immediately after taking the picture of the Tikigaq Harpooner Three-Peaters, I barely caught a ride to the airport in the truck of a man who runs a little on-demand-cab service. If someone needs a ride to the airport, or anywhere else reached by the villages very limited road system, they can call and he will come and pick them up.

So Krystle called for me.

The cab was full of his family.

I thought I wrote down the names of everybody, including the dog, but I can't find them. Still, if you find yourself in Point Hope and you need a cab to the airport or someplace else, just ask anyone and they will direct you to the driver and then he and his family and his dog will come and pick you up and give you a ride and then when you ask how much he will answer, "whatever you want to pay."

Be as generous as is practical for you. His fares are not like those of a city cab driver, but come only sporadically - mostly when an airplane lands.

The cab driver's daughter, the little dog and the airplane. 

Once airborne, we passed over the Lisbourne, the last bumps of the Brooks Range, which themselves are the final northward extension of the Rocky Mountains, which come to an end just before they reach Point Hope and fall into the sea. 

Pans of ice floating in new ice forming below.

We landed for a brief stop in Point Lay, to drop off one passenger, plus this four-wheeler and to pick up a couple more passengers.

And here we are, landing in Barrow.

Some new readers who have come over as a result of the piece in the Lens blog of the New York Times may be feeling a little confused right now to find me flying in someone else's airplane instead of my own.

What the Times said about me being a bush pilot is true, all right, but for some reason they chose not to mention the part about how I crashed my airplane in Mentasta and, for now, anyway, must fly in other people's airplanes.

Originally, I had intended to blog my time this trip in Barrow pretty much the same as I did Point Hope and I have every bit as much material to work with. However, I had also intended to have the whole package complete at least three weeks ago and here I am, still muddling along.

Realistically, I do not have time to do a decent edit of the Barrow pictures right now, although in time I will, for other purposes than this blog. I think what I will do is, on Monday, after returning this blog to Wasilla over the weekend, I will just put up anywhere from one to half-a-dozen images from the Barrow portion and then get back to blogging the present, but only briefly most days, as I have tons I must do this summer, so, even though in my mind I have no higher priority than developing what this blog has begun, for now, I must put the huge bulk of my time elsewhere.

Thanks for traveling with me!

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The Tikigaq Harpooner boys "Three-Peaters" - basketball is big in Point Hope

No time to write much, so I will keep it brief. Basketball is big in Point Hope. Really big. And this year, the Tikigaq Harpooner boys won the Alaska State 2A Championship for the third year in a row. This is senior Zach Lane, one of the "Three-peaters." 

Actually, this is graduate Zach Lane. High school is behind him now.

I wanted to get a picture of all the Harpooner three-peater boys, but a few were out of the village. I had imagined photographing them with a harpoon and basketballs out on the ice, wearing white, to make it clear that the name "Harpooners" means more to them than does the average high school team name, but I was not able to pull it off.

I barely got this photo. Leonard called to tell me the boys were on their way to the high school just as I had finished packing so I could get on the plane to Barrow. So I had to hurry. Afterward, I almost missed my flight.

Left to right: Three-peaters Robert Omnik, Jacob Lane, Coach Leonard Barger, George Vincent, Solomon Frankson and Michael Tuzroyluk, Jr.

Coach Leonard Barger, on the ice, with his rifle and beluga hook. This was Leonard's first year coaching varsity, but he had been the middle school coach for a few years, where he had worked with all but the senior boys.

"It's been fun," he said. "It was a good year."

Both Rex Rock Sr. and wife Ramona have been on this blog recently. Before he was taken by surprise, nominated and elected to serve as the President of the Arctic Slope Regional Corporation, Rex had been coaching the boys and he was he who had led them to their first two state championships.

He still showed up for every game and before hand would meet with the team and then would see them through the game.

Ramona is coach of the Harpoonerettes, who had the best season in the lead but did not win the tournament. They have next year to look forward to.

This is just a typical night at the school gym.

By now, readers know two-old Jonathan Frankson, son of Jesse and Krystle. He is a strong kid and can already stuff the ball.

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Tikigaq: back out on the ice with two WEIO Olympic champions, I see my final whale for this Point Hope visit, but no polar bear

On my final full day in Point Hope this trip, I found Krystle tying braids into the hair of David Thomas. David has roots here, lives in Palmer, but comes back as often as he can to reconnect with his traditional way of life.

David is also a star at the World Eskimo-Indian Olympics, held each summer in Fairbanks. Last year, he won first place in the knuckle hop, the toe-kick, the one hand reach, the Alaska high kick, the blanket toss and also received the sportsmanship award.

Many readers probably do not know what those events are. It has been a long time since I have covered WEIO. In her comments to this blog, Annette Donaldson has been urging me to come up for WEIO and has pointed out that this summer will be the 50th anniversary of the games and so will be extra special.

If I can go to WEIO next month, I will show you those events. I have much going on this summer and a huge amount of work that I must complete and so cannot say for certain that I will be able to attend, but if it is feasible, then I will.

I will look forward to it with both excitement and dread.

Excitement to witness the games, the dances, the traditional clothing fashion displays, all the events and the protocol of strong sportsmanship, but dread at the thought of having to join in the media scrum and being forced to jostle about with all the other photographers and videographers who will be covering the event.

Even back in the 80's, when I used to attend WEIO regularly, before there was a camera in every phone, it could be a real battle and I remember some hard and sharp elbows. So I fear it will really be a media scrum this year.

Even if it is, a photographer at WEIO should be polite, calm and good tempered at all times - just like the athletes. Being polite and a good sport and even giving assistance and encouragement to those you compete against is part of WEIO tradition and protocol.

Later that afternoon, I followed Jesse Frankson Sr. and David back out to the lead. Jesse is also a WEIO star and holds the world record in the one-foot high kick (Canadian style) - 9'10". the one-hand reach - 8'10" and the kneel jump - 63 1/4 inches.

So here I was, on the ice, with two of Alaska's most famous Native Olympic stars - right here on the ice of Tikigaq - where many of the games were born.

Jesse and David had come out earlier in the day and had happened upon a huge polar bear. David had watched in amazement as Jesse and the bear had spent some time studying each other while being separated only by about 15 feet.

We hoped that we might find that bear this trip as well.

The lead had still been open when Jesse and David had been out earlier, and so they also had hoped they might catch a beluga.

When we got there, the lead was closing fast. This bowhead swam through a mix of newly freezing slush ice and ice that was traveling in on the southwest wind.

Soon, the lead was completely closed. Yes, this is the very same stretch of sea pictured in past posts with belugas and bowheads swimming through it, with an umiak traveling through wide-open seas.

That is how fast it can change.

And when it gets like this, the hunt shuts down and the hunters must wait for the water to open again.

We meandered a bit on the return to the village, hoping to find the big bear. We did not find it, but we did find this raven perched atop a peak of pressure-ridge ice.

Jesse and Krystle, preparing meal-sized portions of their share of this spring's maktak for freezing.

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Steve Oomittuk of Tikigaq - a seeker of the history and knowledge of this people; Reggie and Sam the cat

This is my friend Steve Oomittuk with the dance mask that he wore in a performance at the 2009 Kivgiq in Barrow. There are stories in the mask, including the five whales a new captain must land before he gains full status as a true captain. Most observers can probably identify the tail of the whale in the mask, but probably few other than the people of the whale could identify the bowhead head and mouth as depicted in the chin.

Steve envisioned how he wanted the mask to look, sketched it out and then gave the sketch to his brother, master sculpture Othneil Oomittuk, better known as "Art," who then carved it for him.

Point Hope is one of the oldest if not the oldest continually occupied community on the continent. After summer and fall storms, Steve will often walk the beaches along the ancient site of Ipiutak and other nearby places that predate US history and will gather up artifacts that the storm has unearthed from the eroding beach.

These are a few of items that he has found.

A fossilized ivory artifact the age of which must be at least a couple of thousand years, judging from where he found it. Steve also spends much time reading the books and works of the archeaologists and anthropologists who have studied his home, both those who came shortly after contact and those who have come in his time.

When he was young, he listened to the stories of the Elders and still seeks to learn all that he can, from whomever and whatever source he can.

It troubles him to think of his culture ever being lost - not just that of the Arctic Slope Iñupiat as a whole, but of Point Hope in particular - Tikigaq being a unique and special place, even in Alaska.

A fossilized ivory artifact that appears to be an arrow point.

Steve makes many sketches of his life and sometimes his grandchildren get hold of them and add their own touch.

Steve and his granddaughter give me a ride on his four-wheeler.

I do not find a cat in every village that I visit, but I am always glad when I do. This is Sam the cat, with Reggie Oviok. Sam migrated from California upon the back of goose, but is a Tikigaq cat now.

I might have made that part about the goose up.

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