The only other way to reach the warm, well-appointed, comfortable and cozy trailer encampment, complete with triple thick curtains to block windows from the midnight sun, is by sea. When whales migrated into the Eskimo Lakes from the Arctic Ocean, ancient Inuit Eskimos strung lines of bones across the channel where the lodge now sits. The tinkling of bones frightened the whales and prevented them from swimming back into open water, thus assuring residents of a winter food supply. The waters are rich with Beluga whales and seals. A day later, when we fly to Tuk to attend a gathering in the high school gymnasium, we pack the plane with fish to contribute to a community-wide feast.
Children run and play while elders are courteously assisted.
The result is spread neatly on long tables in the gym. Platters are heaped with delicious grayling, char, whitefish, caribou stew, muskox meatballs, along with berry pies made from the only local fruits that grow in this rather extreme environment. Another local specialty is muktuk, which is whale blubber. It is served raw, in small cubes that the local people savor as a delicacy, although my taste buds vehemently disagree. We are, however, regaled by local dancers and drummers.