Dundas Harbour, Devon Island, Nunavut, Canada
Up here, there is very little that separates the present from the past. The landscape and the weather are extreme, yet they preserve the stories of the land.
Today was exceptional because, out with my small and adventurous Zodiac group, the past came to us like a discovery. As the only cruising Zodiac, we were alone in the landscape as we explored the coast. Before long, perhaps a mile from the landing site, I looked to the left and immediately stopped the boat. There were three clear patches of green vegetation among the rocks and gravel. Why? It didn’t take long for us to recognize the same kind of Thule dwellings that we explored yesterday in Radstock bay. Incredible footprints of 600 year old houses made from stone, whalebone and animal skins. These sites are now oases of nutrients that offer soil for mosses and flowers and shelter for lemming, foxes and other wildlife.
I knew that there were archaeological sites in the area, but I didn’t know where, and without any of our other guests or staff around, we discovered this site as if for the first time. What a thrill to discern the evidence of dwelling from among the rocks and then to investigate on our own – from our own Zodiac platform.
A bit further down the shore, the waves had washed away some soil to expose an incredible midden (a layered heap of refuse material). From rich soil a few feet thick, a treasure trove of bones and artifacts were literally spilling down the rocks and into the sea. During our exploration we recognized caribou antler, arctic fox skulls, more whale bones, pieces of carved wood, and even the jaw of a polar bear. Imagine. People living here in 1400 A.D. in small groups hunting fox, bear, whale and caribou with stone and wooden tools from little boats made of skins. It is an incredible existence, yet this landscape preserves a sense of immediacy. The past is laid out before you, and within moments you are transported back centuries.
The past endures, and it erodes at the same time. After the next storm, many of the items we photographed today will be pulled into the sea, and they will disappear. But somehow while there is still evidence of lives lived, the images remain clear. A woman is sewing fur onto a winter garment. Her sister is preparing food for an evening meal or processing oil for burning. What would the light look like coming through the skins during the afternoon? Would people sitting inside rest their backs against the walls that are made of the ribs and pelvic bones of a now endangered whale? Did they fear a visit from a polar bear? What did it sound like when they called to each other over the waves? There are stories enough for a lifetime at this one site, and this one site is just a pinprick on the vast pages of the north.
I extend a special thank you to Bev, Genevieve, Judy and Melinda for being adventurous, curious and willing explorers.
Up here, there is very little that separates the present from the past. The landscape and the weather are extreme, yet they preserve the stories of the land.
Today was exceptional because, out with my small and adventurous Zodiac group, the past came to us like a discovery. As the only cruising Zodiac, we were alone in the landscape as we explored the coast. Before long, perhaps a mile from the landing site, I looked to the left and immediately stopped the boat. There were three clear patches of green vegetation among the rocks and gravel. Why? It didn’t take long for us to recognize the same kind of Thule dwellings that we explored yesterday in Radstock bay. Incredible footprints of 600 year old houses made from stone, whalebone and animal skins. These sites are now oases of nutrients that offer soil for mosses and flowers and shelter for lemming, foxes and other wildlife.
I knew that there were archaeological sites in the area, but I didn’t know where, and without any of our other guests or staff around, we discovered this site as if for the first time. What a thrill to discern the evidence of dwelling from among the rocks and then to investigate on our own – from our own Zodiac platform.
A bit further down the shore, the waves had washed away some soil to expose an incredible midden (a layered heap of refuse material). From rich soil a few feet thick, a treasure trove of bones and artifacts were literally spilling down the rocks and into the sea. During our exploration we recognized caribou antler, arctic fox skulls, more whale bones, pieces of carved wood, and even the jaw of a polar bear. Imagine. People living here in 1400 A.D. in small groups hunting fox, bear, whale and caribou with stone and wooden tools from little boats made of skins. It is an incredible existence, yet this landscape preserves a sense of immediacy. The past is laid out before you, and within moments you are transported back centuries.
The past endures, and it erodes at the same time. After the next storm, many of the items we photographed today will be pulled into the sea, and they will disappear. But somehow while there is still evidence of lives lived, the images remain clear. A woman is sewing fur onto a winter garment. Her sister is preparing food for an evening meal or processing oil for burning. What would the light look like coming through the skins during the afternoon? Would people sitting inside rest their backs against the walls that are made of the ribs and pelvic bones of a now endangered whale? Did they fear a visit from a polar bear? What did it sound like when they called to each other over the waves? There are stories enough for a lifetime at this one site, and this one site is just a pinprick on the vast pages of the north.
I extend a special thank you to Bev, Genevieve, Judy and Melinda for being adventurous, curious and willing explorers.
