High Arctic Day 6 - Bears!

Lancaster Sound - Tallurutiup Imanga. Sunrise 0356.
During the night we sailed past Bylot Island and then turned west into Lancaster Sound toward the south western shores of Davon Island in search of the ice pack blocking the fabled Northwest passage.
The aft deck definitely was not a breakfast spot. I took my hot coffee and warm croissant to the bridge to watch the sea and radar for ice.

As we sailed, the morning presentation was on "Cetaceans of the Arctic" was given by our ever enthusiastic Whale biologist Connor. Not interested in the next scheduled presentation, I went up to my "Happy Place" the Library. The Library is part of the observation deck at the top of the ship and has banks of windows, leather chairs, hundreds of books and quick access to the open deck above the bridge. Throughout the voyage only a handful of us occupied this space. We were likeminded, quiet and hauled around large cameras and laptops for editing photos. The crew quickly realized that I enjoyed lunch in the library. Lunch was served more formally on the observation deck but after a couple days, I always found a table set for me in the library complete with place setting, hot roll and butter, a bowl of the soup of the day and my glass of ice water. All I needed to do was go into the dining area and grab my salad, entree and desert. Life was Very Good in the Library.
The presentation after lunch was "Seeing Artic Wildlife Before Seeing It".  Serguei Ponomerenko barely got a word out when the call of "Bear!" came from the helm.
We had hit the pack ice and hunting bears were spotted. There is a bear in this picture somewhere. Or at least that is what I was told when I took it.

We had learned by this time to always be prepared with coats, hats, cameras and binoculars no matter what we were doing on the ship. He is out there.

This is my "Where's Waldo Bear" photo. He is there.

I zoomed in a bit once I clearly spotted him.

 By now we all had a clear view.

Not knowing how long we would see him and this being the first polar bear of the trip, I took a LOT of pictures.

 He chose to approach the ship.

Looking down on those on the forward deck and the bear. At this point there was total silence in the ship. We were so in awe and didn't want to scare him away.

 He kept coming towards us.

It became evident he was going to jump this open lead. A hundred or so cameras were poised to catch him in flight. My camera wasn't fast enough to get more than the start of the lead. Others got some amazing in-air shots.

 He landed and kept coming.

I don't know if you can get too many pictures of a polar bear. I do know it is nearly impossible to eliminate ones you have taken let alone decide on the best ones to post.

My travel-mates are probably facing the same dilemma.

He was so curious and just hung around the bow of the boat for over 1/2 hour.

His tongue thrust and yawning behaviors were similar to what I see in dogs approaching an unknown, possible threat.

 Right below the bow on the ship.

He actually did disappear from our top-deck view as he got within feet of the hull. Then he decided we weren't anything  to eat or maybe he just satisfied his curiosity. He ambled off from where he came.

 Though occasionally looked back.

 Then he settled in to watch us.

About that time three more bears were spotted. The ship maneuvered so we could get a better look. This is my "where's Waldo Mom Bear and Two Cubs" shot. They actually are in this picture but never approached the ship.

 The edge of the ice pack.

 We backed out and sailed away.

We never did get the "Seeing Arctic Wildlife" presentation but after tea, Matthias Breiter, the National Geographic bear guy, researcher and photographer, was scheduled to present a talk on "Polar Bear Biology".  The session turned into answering questions about the bears we had seen and am impromptu slide show of some of the pictures taken earlier. Biology would have to wait.
You could tell we were getting further north. Sunset was at 2234.

Day 5 - Pond Inlet

Throughout the night we cruised north along the east coast of Baffin Island. Sunrise was at 0431.
Storm clouds added a drama to the towering cliffs.

Icebergs were a near constant.

As were the glaciers creating them.

The season was quickly advancing into fall. Yellow cloudberry and willow along with brilliant red blueberry bushes contributed striking color to the barren landscape.

This was not a morning for breakfast on the aft deck.

About 3pm we made it to Mittimatalik (Pond Inlet), the capital of Nunavuk, Canada.

Pond Inlet was named in 1818 by John Ross for John Pond an English astronomer. Mittimatslik in the local language Inukitut means "the place where Mitima is buried". Pond Inlet is a small, predominately Inuit, community in the Qikiqtaaluk Region of Nunavut, Canada. It is located at the top of Baffin Island and has a population of 1,600. Mittimatslik is the largest town above the 72nd parallel and is ice free for about 3 1/2 months a year. The town's economy is largely service-based with government as the largest employer. 

The Inukitut language (understood throughout the arctic Siberia to Greenland) is quite different from Greenlandish (which has a heavy Danish influence). The script is unlike any I have ever seen. According to Wikipedia:
Inuktitut syllabics  ᑎᑎᕋᐅᓯᖅ ᓄᑖᖅ [titiʁauˈsiq nuˈtaːq]) is an abugida-type writing system used in Canada by the Inuktitut-speaking Inuit of the territory of Nunavut and the Nunavik region in Quebec. In 1976, the Language Commission of the Inuit Cultural Institute made it the co-official script for the Inuit languages, along with the Latin script.

Mittimatalik is a very poor hamlet compared to Sisimiut, Greenland. Since supplies from the outside are difficult and expensive to transport, everything of possible future use is left outside in yards for repurposing. The communal dog yard is in the center of town.
Once again we anchored out and zodiaced to shore. Local guides lead us in small groups about town.

A traditional Thule sealskin covered, sod house.

Mittimalik has a small museum.

 I love these dog booties.

 Seal hunting sled.

I have a small collection of Canadian and Alaskan license plates. I asked our guide about getting one of these. He was quite proud of them and indicated that they are new. He seriously doubted that there would be any lying around.

Our guide had lived in Mittimatalik all of his life and was a wealth of knowledge about hunting - (each hunter has a limit and all animals killed are registered at the communal office and disbursed throughout the community); subsistence living - (hunters can keep what they kill if their family is in need but, kills are still registered); and the historical displacement of the Inuit (tragic tales of historical moving of native peoples such as went on in America). He told of one inland group from near the tree line that was forcibly moved north to Ellesmere Island. They knew nothing about ocean hunting and were not prepared with clothing, housing or weapons. He said the he, his father and other people from Mittimatalik traveled north on dogsled to help them survive the first year. The settlement is now abandoned.

Part of our tour included a show put on by a local theater group.

The show started with an elder woman and male. She lit and kept the soapstone oil lamp flame going by feeding it strands of moss and sang while he danced with his drum. He gave a very moving oration about life of his elders, his life and the future of his children "they will have it easier but will it be better?" Then came the younger women, men and children aged down to two babies nestled in their mother's amautiks - special hoods on a woman's anorak parka where a baby rides until about the age of 2.

The games, the drumming, the dances, I was transported to Nome.

How could I have forgotten the "don't smile" game where contestants try to make the other group smile? I could not hold it but laughed with glee as a young boy made numerous silly faces at me.

Or the twirling of ptarmigan feet on a string? Or the mouth pulling where two contestants wrap their arm around the other's neck and use their forefingers to pull at the side of the mouth of their opponent?

Or the seal dance where contestants race across the floor with a swimmer's butterfly motion without ever touching anything but their toes and elbows to the ground (basically a moving "plank position" on steroids). Or the high kick? All of the Inuit games and dances are meant for entertainment in small, crowded dwellings. The songs and drumming tell stories and pass on lore.
(Credit for the B&W photos go to Ryder, aNat Geo photographer. Our group was told we could not take pictures during the preformance.)
Back to the ship for another night of northward travel.

Sunset was at 2145.