Seabirds, passing by Tikigaq

As we wait on the ice edge for whales, seabirds come passing by - including these three murres and an eider.

Hoping to finally finish my Tikigiq series and move on to Barrow, I pulled out 26 pictures for today's post, but that took all the time I have. I must move on to other things.

So for today, these birds are all you get to see.

But the photos are now selected. Maybe I will run them all tomorrow, or maybe over two days, three days.

I am in the midst of a huge task that must be done soon and I really have no time to spare for this blog right now.

So don't be surprised if it takes me at least two more days to post those pictures - maybe three.

Tikigaq: belugas pass by in the night

I did not have access to a snowmachine in Point Hope, and so this is how I mostly traveled across the ice - on a sled - in this case, a basket sled - towed by someone else. This particular basket sled was a real rough rider. It projected each bump and jolt right through the wood frame into me. At the back, there was a cross bar at shoulder level and another at the bottom and the space in between was open.

I carried two camera bodies and three lenses. I kept one camera body and lens slung over my neck where I could access it to take an occasional picture as I bounced along. I packed the other body and two lenses into a small backpack, which was then positioned directly between my shoulders and the top cross bar.

Out at the lead, belugas swam by in significant numbers. The people take belugas also, but they did not land any while I was with them, in part because when a large number of beluga passed right by the ice edge the umiak was in the water in pursuit of a bowhead. 

There were plenty of hunters left at the ice edge, but by protocol they could not fire as long as that umiak was in the water following a bowhead.

In the morning, somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 AM, I zipped two lenses and a body into my pack, slung the other body and lens over my neck and climbed back into the basket sled and then we headed back to the village.

As always, it was a bouncy ride but it was not long before I was dropped off in front of Jesse and Krystle's house.

Krystle was still up when I stepped in, so I greeted her and then went to sling my pack off my back, but was surprised by how light it felt. Then, in horror, I realized the pack was empty. The force of the camera and lenses repeatedly being bounced against the back flap had undid the zipper and somewhere between here and the lead my camera and lenses had exited the bag, passed through the space between the back cross bars and who knew where they were now?

I felt sick inside. If I could not get them back, the lenses and body were expensive and there was no way I could afford to replace them at this time. With just one body and a wide angle-lens only, I would be crippled for the remainder of my trip.

And then there were the beluga pictures in that camera. I did not want to lose the beluga pictures. In many ways, I felt worse about that possibility than about the loss of the equipment.

Krystle offered to go out with me and help me look, but first I had to duck into the restroom.

Before I came out, I heard a snowmachine pull up to the house. It was Jesse, who had been out at camp a short distance up the lead from the Rock's. He had found my lenses and the body and now had them in his pocket. 

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Jesse!

Now, a few beluga pictures, which I might as well make into studies, if for no other reason than to create a little separation between frames.

Tikigaq beluga study #1.

Tikigaq beluga study #2.

Tikigaq beluga study #3.

Tikigaq beluga study #4.

Tikigaq beluga study #5.

Tikigaq beluga study #6.

Tikigaq beluga study #7.

Tikigaq beluga study #8.

Tikigaq beluga study #9.

Tikigaq beluga study #10.

Tikigaq beluga study #11.

Tikigaq beluga study #12.

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Jobe's goodbye to Lisa; Back to Tikigaq, where a bowhead passes and a boat goes into the water

The whole family and Charlie - who is family - came out yesterday to throw a belated Happy Mother's Day party for Margie, since she had been in Arizona on that date. As anyone who knows me would suspect, I took a good many photos of the kind I usually do when I am with my family - including many fun pictures of Kalib and Jobe.

The problem is, I in no way have time to edit and post those pictures, so I decided I would post just one. But which one? 

As I was loading my take into the computer through Lightroom, I suddenly experienced one of those little computer glitches that happen all too often. Lightroom ceased loading the pictures well before they had all been transfered and said, "I'm done, that's all, there is no more."

This was the final picture that Lightroom had loaded. So I decided to chose it. I then started over and made Lightroom download the pictures it had left behind the first time.

After the celebration, Lisa was the first to leave. She had to get back to Anchorage so that she could see her cats and her boyfriend. As she drove away, she waved goodbye to Jobe.

"Damnit, Auntie Lisa!" Jobe shouted after her. "Why do you have to leave so soon?"

And then off she drove.

Now, back to Tikigaq:

When I left off, we were returning to the Rock camp from the site where Isaac Killigvuk had just landed his bowhead, so I will restart there - on the journey back to camp.

As we travel, Rex Rock Jr. locks his eyes onto something a bit further out into the Chukchi, off portside.

Bowhead!

But it is far out and there are further preparations that must be made before the crew can hunt again.

Soon, they are back at camp. The umiak is in place.

Eiders fly by by the score, the hundreds, the thousands, the hundreds of thousands... over the season... millions.

Butch Lincoln makes a cell call from atop a perch of ice while Rex connects from the ice edge. I was off-network in Point Hope with my At&t plan and I could only connect from up on the ice, where Butch is, but could not send text from that spot.

Butch, who hails from Kotzebue, is a famous Alaska basketball star. He starred at Kotzebue High and then became the first Alaska Native to earn a basketball scholarship when he played for the University of Alaska, Anchorage. Butch is short like me, but was blessed with talent, desire and drive and successfully took on the tall guys.

The umiak, with harpoon and darting guns ready.

The landscape.

The migratory bird...

Ripley watches for a whale.

A seal pops up and checks out the boat and hunters.

A bowhead blows. 

Another bowhead comes. The boat is launched.

Hunters, in pursuit of the bowhead.

The hunters paddle into the reflected glare of the sun, but this was not the bowhead that would give itself to the crew. 

Even as his crew continues to paddle through the water in search of the whale, captain Rex Rock Sr. arrives on his snowmachine, bringing with him the new harpoon shaft that had been working on.

The crew returns to the ice.

Later, after the sun took a short dip below the northern horizon, I noticed the image of an old ice man with an icicle beard. 

Next up, belugas will come swimming by.

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Standoff with skinny moose; buried truck, the train rumbles past Subway, etc. and so forth

I photographed this truck in early May in Point Hope. I include it in today's post just to assure interested readers that, although the rest of today's post will be devoted to Wasilla, I am continuing on with my series from my recent Arctic travels.

I spent two weeks on that trip and by the time I put yesterday's post up, I had made my way through just a little bit more than a day-and-half of that two weeks. I have been moving very slowly on that edit, because I have a different project that I must have proof ready by June 15, so I would do a little bit of editing on the Arctic trip, then put it aside and get back to work on my project.

But I want to get this blog series done, so I decided that today, Saturday, I will put my project aside and see if I can make my way through the entire take, then hopefully do a bit better job planning for the remainder of the Arctic Spring 2011 posts and get them ready so that they can appear through next week while I do nothing but concentrate on my project - and maybe drop in a picture or two from Wasilla here now and then, just to make it clear where I really am.

Despite appearances, it does not really snow that much in Arctic Alaska, where annual precipitation is about the same as Phoenix, Arizona. But once the snow falls, it does not melt for a long time and the wind blows it all about, so, whenever it finds anything to drift up and pile against, or even bury, it does.

And so it buried this truck. Looks like someone decided it was time to start digging it out.

Now, here I am, solidly back in Wasilla, driving home the long way after stopping at Metro Cafe. I see a kid on a bike out the window, so I quickly lift the camera and take a blind snap to my side through the dirty glass as I look straight ahead at the road. A moose could walk onto the road.

Yesterday morning, Margie and I decided to have breakfast at Subway, where it is pretty cheap but still good. As we were eating, I was thrilled to hear the whistle and rumble of the train, coming down the tracks. So I got my camera ready and.... sure enough, the train rolled into view! And, employing all my skill, talent, and experience as a hard working photojournalist, I caught the exact moment that the train rolled into view.

The exact moment! People will now marvel at this photo from now until the end of the world. Hmmm... according to some, folks won't get to marvel all that long, so look at it now and enjoy it while you can.

I love the train and yet, you know what? I have never ridden on the Alaska Railroad - not one time. I have never even been on a passenger car or in an engine, either. Nor has Margie.

Someday, this must change.

As it turned out, the Alaska Railroad engine was towing passenger cars, operated by Princess Tours. I could only wonder what these people were talking and thinking about as they rolled through my now famous/infamous home town.

I suspect some were basking in perceived glory and glowing in adoration. Others were probably discussing US history, Paul Revere in particular, and wondering if our schools could really be that bad.

They're not. It's an individual thing.

On my walk, I came upon this adolescent moose. As I approached, I was searching for its mom. One never wants to step between a mom moose and her calf. I saw no mom. Maybe the adolescent had been turned out on its own.

Maybe the mom had died.

Who knows?

Then the moose came walking toward me, looking at me. I looked at its bristles and they were up, but not dramatically so. I was not quite sure what to think. My first thought was that maybe somebody had fed this calf and now it was hungry and coming to me in the hope that I might give it an apple or something.

Or maybe it saw me as threat and was warning me to back away or it would stomp on me. Or maybe it was saying I am one mean moose and I am coming to get you and I will jump on you and there is not a damn thing you can do about it.

It can be very hard to know with a moose.

And, despite all our bear stories, in Alaska, moose afflict more damage upon human flesh than do bears.

"It is okay, moose," I calmly told it. "I mean you no harm. You have nothing to fear from me." I started to walk slowly to the side. I did not back up or retreat in the opposite direction, because I did not want it to think that I was afraid of it, either. I just moved away to the side.

Finally, the moose turned away. See how skinny it is? I felt badly for it. I did not feel optimistic for its future. I doubt that it will make it to hunting season, but I could be wrong. Maybe it will eat, thrive, and grow strong.

In the afternoon, Margie drove to town and brought Jobe and Kalib home with her. Once again, they are spending the weekend with us in order to allow their parents to work on their house.

Jobe wants to be friends with Jim.

Jim is still trying to decide if this is a good idea.

And for all my readers who have become fond of Charlie - who has not been in this blog since before I went traveling - his family dog, Rowdy, who was a genuine smiler, died this past week.

Condolences, Charlie, Jim and Cyndy.

Kalib bounced on the bed.

That plastic is up to give better insulation against the cold of winter.

I suppose we could take it down now.

Margie did open it up at the bottom, to let fresh air in.

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Tikigaq: Journey to the Killigvuk whale

The snowmachine and sled ride depicted in my post of two days ago took us to the whale camp of Rex Rock, Sr., where we would transfer to the umiak for the trip to the whale taken by Isaac Killigvuk and crew - as soon as the harpoons and darting guns were made ready. The weapons would not be used on this trip, as a "cease fire" was in place until the Killigvuk whale was landed.

Just before we boarded the umiak, some belugas swam by.

This was the first time not only on the ice and at whale camp but certainly in an umiak for Al Sokaitis (left in white) and Mike Hajdukovich (right in black) of Challenge Life Alaska. The boat rocked a bit when we launched which caused Mike - who in his college days was one of UAF's 10 all-time lead scorer at basketball, to shout out in slight panic. Even when it rocks, an umiak is a very stable boat and there was no real danger that it would tip over.

When the hunters go after a bowhead, they paddle the umiak but this would be a long ride with no hunting be done, so the boat was powered by a small outboard motor.

In addition to his work with Challenge Life Alaska, Sokaitis is the head coach for the Post University men's basketball team in Waterbury, Connecticut. He has also coached at Western State College, University of Alaska Fairbanks, University of Southern Maine, and North Adams State College and he coached the Alaska Dream in the ABA for one season.

Eider ducks flew past as we cruised through the Chukchi.

That's Rex Rock, Jr. His father had things to do onshore, so Rex was in command.

We came upon a seal...

...and a male eider duck swimming.

A bowhead blew and then glided through the water not far off starboard.

Rex Rock, Jr., surveys his country. The Rocks have replaced the bearded seal skins that once covered their umiak with fibreglass.

Shorefast ice.

Another bowhead, in the distance, beyond the eiders.

Eiders over the ice.

In time, we reach the landing site. The bowhead is still in the water. The block and tackle have been attached to its tail. Isaac Killigvuk, the successful captain, is the second person to the right of the paddle. The man standing next to him in blue is Popsi Tingook, captain of the first Point Hope crew to land a whale this season.

Preparations to pull up the whale have been made. The skin-covered Killigvuk umiak is pulled up onto the ice.

Those present join together and pull and pull on the block and tackle, until the whale is pulled onto the ice. For a large whale, this process can take many hours, even a day. This is a small bowhead and comes up quickly.

The whale is landed. Isaac is joined by his wife, Sally. They are very happy to have this whale give them the honor of taking its flesh to feed to their community. They haveprayed for the whale. Of all the many sources of food natural to the Arctic - caribou, beluga, seals, walrus, ducks, geese, fish, berries and such, the bowhead is the most important in every way that one can imagine - food, nutrition, spirit, identity.

Year round, the activities of life focus first and most importantly upon the bowhead.

The flag of the Isaac Killigvuk crew.

We stayed for the early part of the butchering, but with the whale landed and the process of cutting and dividing it well underway, the hunt would soon begin again. So Rex Jr. took his boat back to the Rock camp and I followed.

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