News of Wainwright's first fall whale in over 100 years reaches Kaktovik

Yesterday afternoon, John Hopson, Jr. of Wainwright stepped to the podium to interrupt the regular proceedings of the Healthy Communities Summit in Kaktovik. He then announced that back in his home village, Iceberg 17, the whaling crew headed by Captain Walter Nayakik, Jr., had landed a bowhead. That's North Slope Borough Mayor Edward Itta, cheering. The crowd in front is cheering, too.

For as long as I have known the Arctic Slope and even long, long, before that, Wainwright hunters have consistently found success on their bowhead hunts - but these have been in the spring. Barrow, Nuiqsut and Kaktovik have been the only villages that have hunted in the fall, due to being situated in locations favorable for them to greet the bowhead on their migration from the Beaufort to the Bering Sea.

Some thought that a fall hunt could not successfully be carried out at Wainwright, but both the stories and physical evidence testified that, over 100 years ago, the people in Wainwright were landing fall whales. Now, they have landed another. Earlier in the day, we also received that the Savik crew from Barrow - they being the people who most often serve as my hosts when I stay there, had received a whale. I stayed at their house the night before I came over here to Kaktovik.

Savik had a need to go to the hospital in Anchorage the next day and as I sat at the dinner table with him, one of his daughters asked if the crew should still go out, since he would not be in Barrow. "Yes!" The next morning, just before he drove me to the airport to catch the plane to Kaktovik, Roy drove me down to the beach to look at the ocean.

The water had been rough and even now the waves were coming, but it was beginning to calm down. I just had this feeling that Roy would be out in that water with the crew shortly and that by the time I saw them again, they would have landed a whale. Since that announcement, four other Barrow crews have landed whales.

That's a total of five out of a fall quota of 12. I have photographed many things here at the summit and elsewhere in Kaktovik and have picked up some good stories, but, as I said at the beginning, I would not have much time for blogging while I was here so, for now, I let this announcement do it. Dinner has already started and after that - the Eskimo dance will begin. So I've got to close this blog down and get moving.

Lifted by the song; darkness coming on - for awhile, anyway

Back in the days before I broke my airplane and I would be somewhere in rural Alaska where the people had been singing - be it traditional musice accompanied by skin drums, gospel, fiddle or whatever, when I would finally leave and fly away, I would still hear the music in my head.

It would seem to me that it was not the flow of air against my wings that lifted up my plane to hold me in the air, but rather the flow and spirit of the music.

This is John Tagarook, performing in the singspiration that took place last night in conjunction with the Healthy Communities Summit.

Even though I was on the ground last night and not in my airplane, I got that same feeling again, as the people played and sang. I got the feeling that I could again sit in the cockpit of my own airplane, Alaska beneath my wings, kept aloft by the spirit of the people among whom I have been so fortunate to roam.

That would include Stephanie Aishanna, who, as you can see, sings with strong feeling.

Readers of yesterday's post would surely have noticed that winter has set in for good up here in the Far North. Elsie Itta, who here sings next to her husband, North Slope Borough Mayor Edward Itta, spoke of how hard this time of year can be on the spirit, when we know that the light is going and soon it will dark and cold all though the day.

Last year, the time of darkness was expecially hard on Elsie, as her mother passed away on the very day that the sun briefly rose for the last time that season and then slipped below the horizon for the next 63 days straight.

It was hard, she said. That was a long 63 days. But the sun did come back. No matter how dark it gets, the sun always comes back, Elsie said.

Here, she and those who sing with her, including Ada Lincoln, the Reverend Mary Ann Warden and Mabel Smith, perfom "Precious Memories... how they linger..."

This is Tiffany Kayotuk of Kaktovik with baby Calleigh Gordon, who is visiting from Anaktuvuk Pass.

The man pictured on the wall is Tom Gordon, who I once went moose hunting with in Anaktuvuk Pass, where he had lived for awhile. From that day forward, whenever I would see Tom, he would greet me with genuine warmth and love. He even used the word, "love."

In time, he moved from Anaktuvuk Pass back here to Kaktovik, his native village. 

In the summer of 2008, he was out hunting with his son, Simon, when a powerful storm hit. They were on land - a spit, I believe, when Tom slipped and fell into the water wearing his heavy hunting gear. Simon grabbed him and tried to pull him in, but wound up going out with him instead.

Both men drowned.

This past summer, Kaktovik, still grieving for this man who made everybody here feel just as he made me feel, and his son, staged a huge memorial Gospel celebration, for which they painted and decorated the cummunity center.

Since that time, nobody has wanted to take down the decorations and they are still there.

If I had known about that celebration, I would surely have come, but I first learned about it yesterday, when I walked into the hall and saw how it had been painted and decorated.

Singing beneath the portrait is Tiffany and Courtney Kayotuk.

Yesterday, I briefly mentioned the young guys who have come to the village from Utah. This is one them, Zac, who caught me off guard as I was eating and he suddenly broke out in break dance.

And this is Flora Rexford, who Eskimo dances in pure beauty, with her nephew, Colin. There will be an Eskimo dance tomorrow. I will make a point to show you.

A scene from the Healthy Communities Summit, early yesterday. 

Kids at play.

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Here I am, in Kaktovik, attending the Healthy Communities Summit

I have arrived in Kaktovik. I am at the Healthy Communities Summit and the summit has begun. My post will be brief - just to let readers know that I am here. After we landed this morning, I saw this snowplow, clearing the runway.

This is the Waldo Arms Hotel. I am not staying here, but Big Bob Aiken of Barrow was driving me around along with some young people who have come up from Utah and they wanted to get something to eat, so we dropped them off at the Waldo Arms - where the hamburgers are said to be superb.

It has been years - perhaps over a decade - since I last ate a Waldo Arms hamburger, but it was pretty good then, too.

A school bus, passing by, the Beaufort Sea in the background. There are polar bears out on the spit that you see, but this is too far away for me to get a picture. Maybe I will get a chance to get out there before I leave. Kaktovik, for those who don't know, is on Barter Island. It is also the only village located within the boundaries of the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge.

Those are not students in the bus, but people from other communities who have flown in for the summit.

I will be very busy here and probably won't have much time for this blog, but I will try to post a little something, every day.

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At Ted Stevens International, headed to Kaktovik, via overnight in Barrow

Here I am, trying again to do a 100 percent iPhone post. Will it work this time?

Yesterday, as I exited the post office; technological failures and woes

Despite the fact that it was Sunday, I went to the post office yesterday to check the mail as my trip to Kenai had prevented me from doing so the day before. I found nothing but an empty box - no bills, no checks, no junk ads, no political fliers.

I stepped out the door and headed back to the car, but before I reached it I saw this jet passing by above. I pulled out my pocket camera and shot three frames, including this one.

I then noticed a couple who appeared to be in their 40's, standing beside their car, grinning knowingly as they looked at me.

That's what I do, though. I take pictures - of any damn thing that catches my eye. This jet caught my eye.

As for my current situation - my Canon 5 D Mark II, the cheaper of the two cameras that the rain in Kenai put out of commission - has dried out and come back to life. I don't know if greater damage has been done and if this just might be a temporary resurrection, but for the moment it appears to be functioning properly.

I hope that it continues to do so, because I need it.

My more expensive camera - the weather-sealed, storm-proof, indestructible tank known as the Canon 1Ds Mark III - is wiped out. It is going to require a trip to the Canon Factory to put it back into action.

So, equipment wise, this is my current situation:

My very favorite lens, my 16-35, got sheared in half early last spring in a silly little accident. I have not yet been able to get it repaired. The super-wide shots that you sometimes still see on this blog have all been shot with a cheap, Tamron 14 mm. lens of marginal quality that I purchased in 2002.

My Epson Stylus R2400 Inkjet printer - the only printer that I own, broke down on me in mid-summer and I have not yet been able to replace it.

The image on the screen of my 15-inch Macbook Pro laptop vibrates and jumps up and down at a maddening pace. I took it in to the local shop, where they determined that the computer was okay but the screen had gone bad. 

It will cost anywhere from $300 to $500 to repair it.

My harddrives are all full and I need to invest in about four terabytes of harddrives for my desktop computer and two portable terabytes for my malfunctioning lap top, just to continue on and to make certain that everything is backed up.

And now this with the 1Ds-MIII and the CF card.

Maddening.

And then there is the matter of that 16 gigabyte compact flash card that was in the Ids Mark III when the rain took it down - the camera and card on which I had recorded over 95 percent of the action pictures that I took at the final game of the Barrow Whalers football team. That card is ruined. I was able to save a number of images off of it, but lost a huge amount due to file corruptions.

Yet - despite the loss of so many action images, in human terms I have what I believe to be an excellent and strong take from that final game. This is because I kept the long lens on the big, weather-sealed camera and the short lens on the 5D. I caught so much spirit, feeling and emotion with the short lens.

Now, I just need to get some harddrives before I leave to Kaktovik via Barrow tomorrow afternoon and get it all backed up.

I don't have time to blog anything but this one picture.

I have wasted too much time by writing even this much.

I have an impossible amount to accomplish between now and when I leave.

I should not be blogging at all.

But blog I will.