The departure from Point Hope, back toward Barrow

When it came time to leave Point Hope, I caught a ride on the back of Mayor Steve Oomittuk's four-wheeler and we headed toward the airstrip. We had not gone far at all when Conrad Killigvuk came toward us with a smile and an outstretched hand.

We stopped, I shook Conrad's hand and then took this picture. He told me the baby's name but, darn, I have forgotten. He also asked for a copy of the picture. So maybe someone in Point Hope can direct him to it, have him click it to pop up a larger copy and then download it.

Or maybe you could download it and take it to him.

When we landed in Point Hope four days earlier and boarded the school bus that took us into the village, we saw this sign of welcome.

Just as I was getting ready to board the plane, Othniel Anaqulutuq Oomittuk Jr, "Art" the very fine sculptor and artist who created it from part of the boatskin that covered the umiak of Popsy Tingook, drove up in the senior to drop off a few Elders scheduled to return to Barrow on the same flight as me.

I asked the pilot to wait just a minute so that I could run over to the sign and take this picture of Art with his creation of welcome. The supporting frame is made from the jawbones of a bowhead whale.

And always, every minute that I spent in Tikigaq was one of welcome.

And then the Beechcraft turned from Point Hope and pointed its nose towards Barrow, 330 miles to the northeast.

Now... I had said that I would try to post a little bit of explanation and run down on the Arctic Economic Development Summit, but the fact is, I simply do not have the time - just as I have not had time to post but the tiniest hint of the photos that I have shot and the stories that I have gathered on this trip.

The project that I am working on is a huge one and does not leave me much time for the blog.

Counting this one, I have five more nights on the Slope and then I head home. I will then go into production mode on this project and that will include a serious edit of all the pictures that I have taken, and a cobbling together of the stories.

This won't leave me much time for the blog, either, but maybe I can dovetail my production work with this blog a bit and do a little catching, just the same.

Rebecca Brower - winner of Barrow's baby contest!

Here she is - the winner, Rebecca Brower. Beautiful, beautiful, gorgeous baby! Magnificent parka!

Ladies and gentlemen: Rebecca Brower!

But she hasn't won yet. She is waiting her turn to go before the crowd.

And here she is, Rebecca Brower, in the arms of her Aaka, Rebecca Brower, showing her stuff.

As pageant winners so often do, Rebecca cries with joy upon learning that she has won.

Her first place award is handed to her. She reaches for it.

And she has it - First place winner of Barrow's baby contest.

The eight babies who won but who did not take first

This is a fact: if you are going to have a contest for which there is only one first prize, but nine babies enter, then eight of those babies are not going to take first. But look at this baby: she is Christetata Brower and she is a winner - absolutely! She is nothing less than a winner!

And what a beautiful parka she wears!

So this post is dedicated to the eight winner babies who did not take fist.

Shortly after I put it up, I will make a separate post for the First Place winner baby.

Let me say right now that I am proud to have met all these babies. Very proud. One could hardly have a greater honor in this life then to meet such babies.

Elijah Kagak.

Herman Solomon, Jr.

Kyle Nelson - already facing the paparazzi (that would not include me - I am not a paparazzi - I am a very serious photographer. But obviously, this other person is a paparazzi, one who usually shoots celebrities like Britney Spears, Mojo Harris and Weaver MacDonald).

Mildred Spear.

Wayne Toovak.

Jeremiah Benson.

Pearl Faith Gordon.

I know. There is more information that you would like to know, like who sewed each parka, and who is the mother and father of each baby?

In some cases, I know the answers to these questions and in others I don't and it is nearing midnight and I am afraid to go knocking on people's doors seeking answers.

So I give the full credit to the babies.

Cora Ann, her Aapa Max and a cat named Siqñiq

This is baby Cora Ann, sleeping soundly on a love seat in the home of her Aapa Max Akpik and Aaka Cora Akpik in Wainwright. Aapa and aaka = grandfather and grandmother. The hand that rests so reassuringly upon her little leg belongs to her Aapa Max.

Here they are - Cora Ann and Aapa Max. 

But where is Siqniq? Siqñiq the cat?

Well, I needed to take a little break from this blog to give Grahamn Kracker a chance to put a post on his and he wanted Siqñiq all to himself. You can find his post here:

No Cats Allowed - The Kracker Cat Blog.

And if by chance you have come upon this post at a later time and you go there and find the site but cannot find Siqñiq, then here is the direct link:

Siqñiq - with her around, the Arctic is always a sunny, warm, place

A Citabria, a ragdoll and a baby

I had planned to leave for the Arctic Slope Sunday, but then Margie said that I should wait until Monday, to give whomever of our children might be around the chance to honor me on Father's Day. So I agreed to wait. By today, I realized that I could not possibly accomplish all that I must do before I leave by Monday, so I put the date of departure to Barrow off until Tuesday afternoon. Then Wednesday morning I will leave for Point Lay.

Having all this to do, I have basically spent the entire day sitting right here, where I sit now, in front of my computer, working my fingers off. And that is pretty much all that I will have time to do between now and my departure.

Still, I must walk a little bit, pedal a bike a little, and as I walked, an airplane flew overhead. Do you recognize it? It is a Citabria, like mine, like the one that I crashed on that dreadful day in Mentasta, Alaska.

And yet the day was so happy, for that was the day that Katie John celebrated her victory over the State of Alaska, the day that the right of she and her family to catch salmon at their traditional home was finally recognized.

And everybody who came to the celebration, from Governor Knowles to Katie's Athabascan attorney, Heather Kendall-Miller, drove by the wreckage of the Running Dog and they all said, "My goodness! Someone crashed an airplane. I hope no one was hurt."

And then they discovered that it was me that had crashed and I carried on, and photographed the celebration, because that is what I had come to Mentasta to do.

I got some good pictures, too. I wrote up a decent enough story.

Do you feel the longing?

And it is more than longing. Not having that airplane is a damned hardship. My jet ticket to Barrow will cost nearly $800. My roundtrip ticket from Barrow to Point Lay over $500. And then it is imperative that I visit as many of the other North Slope villages as I can.

All those tickets will cost money.

As airplanes go, the Running Dog was a gas sipper, not a guzzler, and I could even put car gas in it. I probably could have made the whole trip for not much more than the cost of that round trip fare between Barrow and Point Lay.

And I could come and go when it suited me, not on someone else's schedule. And I could carry more gear, including a good knife, a rifle and bullets, without ever going through security.

And it was a whole lot more fun.

As I walked, a lady friend from Serendipity picked me up and took me to her house for coffee. Her ragdoll cat was there and so was her husband. And a little dog.

We talked about moose and such.

My niece, Khena, delivered a baby today in Minneapolis.

Ada Lakshmi Iyer is the name of the little beauty and there are pictures of her on Facebook, taken by my sister, Mary Ann, the proud Gramma. Hey, baby sister - how can this word, "gramma," apply to you?

And yet, given the ages of our children, you and I could both have been grandparents over ten years ago.

Khena's proud husband, by the way, is Vivek, first cousin to Soundarya.

Vasanthi, Vivek's mother, is planning to move in with them in September to help take care of the baby and will stay until January. Come the Minnesota winter, she will have a brand new experience.

But then I know India Indian people who live and work on the Arctic Slope, so I suspect that she will do okay, but there will probably be times when she won't like it at all.