Random conversations on the tundra

Below is a collection of snippets that left us, at various times, rolling on the hummocks with hysteria/giddy giggles.

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Marilynn (while peeing): “Crap. Helicopter. Go pee, go."[Jumping into waders] “Uh-oh…. wetness. Sweat or pee? Sweat or pee? It would be warm if it was pee, right?”

5 minutes later.

Marilynn: “Gross. I just stepped on a dead bird.”

Heidi: “WHOA. Look at the size of the maggots on that thing! Those are the biggest maggots I’ve ever seen. Do you have any campinos?”

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One day, we found ourselves half-trotting over hummocks from Stickleback outflow to our launch site on the lake. Helichopper ETA was 2 minutes.

Marilynn: “!*@&#, are you serious? Bloody substandard.......”

The bag of water bottles had broken and there were bottles scattered everywhere in willows, hummocks, and scrub birch. An hour later, we were similarly trotting between Fickle Duck outflow and Fickle Duck lake. Heidi looked down at the bag and panted, “Oh boy. Structural integrity compromised.”

Marilynn: “Make sure you’re running on hummocks and not on rocks. That way the bottles won’t break when your bag breaks. You know what’s really easy? Running through a swamp in waders with a 100 lb pelican case.”

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Angela and I stumbled out of our dark cabin at 6:15 am one day with one eye open against the light and thoughts of nothing but the disgusting coffee we were about to wolf down.
Angela: “Heidi, you know what? I’m not getting any LESS tired.”

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Angela, Paul, Claire, and I were all on Patch Lake one day in rather horrific weather. Paul had branched out from cookies to tarts on this particular day and somehow, our lunchtime discussion turned to soda crackers. This was perhaps because I was wolfing down about 5 packages of crackers in an extremely ill-fated attempt to kick the cookie habit. (For the record, it didn’t work and at one point during the day I resorted to a 2-year old granola bar in the bottom of my pack that tasted like rancid peanuts).

Paul: “Have you ever tried putting 4 crackers in your mouth at once and eating them in a single minute without drinking any water? It’s impossible. You THINK it’s going to be easy, just like eating a tart (opens mouth impossibly wide and inserts an ENTIRE butter tart while Angela, Claire, and I look on incredulously), but it’s actually impossible.”

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Marilynn and I arrive at Boston Lake, where Claire and Dan have left a boat for us to use for water sampling.

Heidi: “Hmmm. That’s interesting. I thought they would have left the pump with the boat (kicks half-deflated pontoon). I wonder why they would take the pump back to camp?”

Marilynn: “In other news, it’s hurricaining again. No bugs, though.”

Heidi (zig zagging half an hour later through the chop): “It’s like driving a shovel with a sewing machine. Man, this is easy.”
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Marilynn and Heidi are sampling the ocean at the base of Louie Lake outflow, where the bear they chased earlier is back fishing in the rapids and there are seals congregating around the boat. Also, we may or may not have forgotten the paddles on this fine day, so the boat was a bit crowded with pieces of 1 x 4 (we tested, and we could actually paddle) and a LARGE rock to be used as an emergency anchor, if necessary. Marilynn was passed out on a pontoon.

Heidi: “Mem. how many Benadryl did you have today? Only, you’re missing bear TV and seal TV. It’s pretty cool.”

Marilynn (drowsily groaning): “Three Benadryl.”

Heidi: “Don’t they have non-drowsy stuff?”

Mem: “Yes, but you know I’m a cheap-ass and it was a few dollars more.” [Pondering for a few seconds] “Perhaps if there was a Shoppers Drug Mart on shore I would spend the extra money.”

Heidi: “You are ridiculous, you know. Is that a bear-shaped rock up there or a rock-shaped bear? I’m not wearing my contacts or glasses. Haven’t all summer, in fact.”

Mem: “I’m ridiculous? Rock-shaped bear. How fast do you think bears can swim?”

Heidi: “Don’t know, but if he heads this way, you paddle with the 1 x 4 and I’ll throw the anchor rock at its head.”

Hurricanes and safety dudes

I have previously mentioned the abundance of safety dudes on site this year. One day, after a safety dude saw us in a boat and had a conniption, Marilynn was approached by one of the staff in camp.

Direct quote: “Does it ever get rough when you’re in the boat?”

Marilynn looked at this person in stark amazement. “Does it ever get rough?” she thought to herself. At which point, a raft of answers flooded into her mind.

Marilynn (in her head): “Well, we are at WINDY Lake.”

Marilynn (in her head): “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we’re in the ARCTIC. The BARREN lands.”

Marilynn (in her head): “You know when it’s too windy for the planes to land? And we’re in the boat?”

Marilynn (in her head): If by, “Is it ever rough,” you mean, “Is it ever so horrendously windy that you zip up two rain jackets to your eyes, bail while driving, drive with only one eye open, and zig zag for two miles across a lake wreaked by 18 inch waves while a bear eats your gear on shore,” then “Yes, sometimes it’s rough.”

In any case, Claire and I were one day off of finishing the August water sampling. We could smell the finish line. We could taste it. Anticipating the sweetness, Claire processed an entire day’s samples on her own one evening while Heidi went out and sampled 7 more streams just to bring the finish line that much closer. So, it was the last day and we were on Hope Bay. It was a TITCH windy. As in, it was Hurricaine Hope. Perhaps we should have waited until it was less hurricainey, but we didn’t.

Beatrice (gazing out into the swells): “Claire, I believe this is going to be the EASIEST thing we have EVER done.”

Fast-forward approximately one-half hour.

Heidi: “Windy logistics, do you copy Heidi on channel one? Yes, we’re going to need an extra hour at this site.”

Beatrice: “Claire, according to the GPS we have dragged the anchor 300 metres since arriving. I think we’re going to have to lift the anchor and move it back to where we’re supposed to be. And then we’ll have to re-sample. RATS.”

Claire: “Right. But, ummm, Heidi, the anchor is about a million pounds at this site.”

Heidi (pondering): “Okay, let’s just get it off the bottom. Then we’ll tie it off on the handle of the boat and long-line it back to the site.”

Claire: “Is this: a) a good idea; or, b) a bad idea?”

Heidi: “B. Bad idea. But it is significantly less painful than: a) lift anchor 25 m into boat.”

So, off we went. Do you know how easy it is to drive a boat in 1- 1.5 m swells while you are pulling an 80 lb anchor approximately 15 m below you? I should mention that the wind was a headwind at this point. Not easy, let me tell you. But we made it and re-established our position. We also let out more slack, in an attempt to reduce our drift.

Heidi (glancing at GPS, then yelling): “RATS. Claire, our strategy has proven ineffective. We are still drifting like an SOB. [Thinking]. Okay, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to attempt to drive the boat in reverse into the waves while you deploy the Kemmerer. That way, we MIGHT have a chance of getting a vertical sample!”

Claire (looking dubious and recounting the loss of the DFO zooplankton net and the Aqua-Vu camera): “Isn’t it sort of likely that you’ll cut the rope while driving?”

Heidi: “Ha. Yup. That would really suck, especially because this is a brand new Kemmerer. Okay, let’s go. Hey Claire, is it ever rough when we’re sampling?”

Claire: “Do you have any cookies?”

I had 2, and an hour later we were shivering triumphantly on shore, with Claire remarking that her hands had never been so cold in her life. Luckily, dexterity is not required for eating cookies.

The Lake of Futile Death throws us a (small) bone

So, until the last week of August, Louie Lake was the lake of futile death. As mentioned in a previous entry, Maril and I fished like we had never fished before and bug hunted like the world depended on it……all for naught. NADA. ZIP. Not a single anadromous fish and narry a mysid nor gammarus to be found. As a last ditch attempt, Maril and I hatched a plan. Hatching plans is one of our strong points. Bug hunting in the Arctic, evidently, is not.


Maril: “Okay, here’s the problem. You have to start water sampling and I have to go home. And the lake of futile death has not yielded. How about I work for two days on water sampling and then Claire can help you on Louie for two days when the water sampling’s done? Maybe the fish will be moving by then.”

Heidi (while bringing up yet another empty kick net): “Yes, I think this is an excellent idea. Largely because THIS is not working (gestures toward net). For whatever reason, the fish just aren’t moving yet and the bugs are exceedingly elusive. Maybe the water’s too high? [Heavy sigh]. Mem, do you have any patience cookies left?”

This brings me to an important point. When things are really going terribly, the only thing that keeps two fish girls sane is cookies. LOTS of cookies. The best ones are oatmeal with chocolate chips.

Maril: “No, but I do have some campinos. I’ve re-named them, actually. They’re called Heidi’s anti-grouchy medication.”

Heidi: “Hmmm. Yes, sorry. Fruitless bug hunting makes me grouchy. “
So, after a whirlwind of water sampling that shattered all previous time records, Claire and I headed to Louie Lake with our three bears. On day two I was lifting a net when….

Heidi (barely above a whisper): “Claire, I need you to find the dip net. Quickly. There is a CHARR. A BIG CHARR! And he’s only barely caught by his teeth.”

Claire dug frantically around the boat only to discover that the dip net was hopelessly trapped between 2 fish tubs, a cooler, and various other detritus.

Claire: “Ack.”

At this point, I reached into the water and grabbed the poorly-caught charr by the tail. While lifting the awkward load into the boat, I may or may not have fallen backwards into the fish tub. Everything’s a bit of a blur.

Heidi (grinning ear to ear): “YESSSSSSS!!! Look, look, look!! Claire, a CHARR! Ouch. I think I pulled both hamstrings doing that. But who needs to walk? All I have to do now is find otoliths.”

And so, the lake of futile death became the lake of mediocre, grudging, life. It didn’t give us much, but in three days we got half a dozen charr and a couple of sea-run trout as well as some amazing shots of our bears.
Pathologically stubborn? Perhaps.

Definition of "the abyss"

The abyss is any depth of water greater than one's waders. It could be one stride long, but it's STILL the abyss. The other day, I was wading out into Louie Lake with the boat while Marilynn was frantically attempting to drive in the shallows with an onshore wind (and many boulders) and retrieve a snag (that I had caused) at the same time. I hoisted myself up to get into the boat but was completely foiled by an ill-placed dip net. (NOTE: Everything in the boat is ill-placed - it's 10 ft long). In any case, I felt myself slide back down and not touch bottom. Hence, I was about one muscle strand away from the abyss. I seem to have lost the ability to speak lately (I think it's cookie-induced), so instead of yelling, "Maril - HELP," I managed a "meh meh meh" grunt. Marilynn correctly interpreted this noise and with her THIRD hand plucked me out of the abyss while simultaneously driving the boat and holding a fishing rod. It was incredible. And she later caught a trout.

Heidi: "Whoa, that was close. Thanks for saving me from the abyss."
Maril: "You don't ask for help often, so when you do, I know it's serious. Do you think it is: a) a good idea; or, b) a bad idea, to give up fishing for 15 minutes and go look at piles of rocks while carrying the gun? It might me more exciting than fishing for fish that don't exist."
Heidi: "A, good idea. I just don't understand those buggers. Hey, is that a bear-shaped rock or a rock-shaped bear?"
Maril: "Rock-shaped muskox, I reckon."
Heidi: "Excellent. How do you feel about a nap after looking at rocks?"

Ursula, Sam, and Archie

Archie goes fishing

Well, in the words of my mother, life is never dull. Through sheer endurance, Claire and I finished the August golder water sampling yesterday so that I have time for one last kick at the can at Louie Lake.

Louie Lake is my nemesis. I need charr from this lake. I set nets in exactly the same place as last year, on exactly the same date. Nothing. Maril and I angled. Nothing. Electrofished. Nothing. We kick netted for FOUR HOURS and did not catch a SINGLE mysid. NOT ONE.

So, I have renamed Louie Lake. It is now the futile lake of death. And I am giving it one last effort.

Today we flew out there and I asked the pilot to fly around and look for thel bear that is usually fishing in the rapids. We had even brought out a 2000 dollar SLR digital camera from one of the site supers in camp in case we could get good shots. We located the bear and started chasing him a few miles north. He always comes back, but it buys us time to get the boat out of the cargo net and in the water. Speaking of which, LRB (leaky red boat) becomes the *escape pod* when bears are around. Escape pods are important.

In any case, the bear was relocated slightly north of Louie Lake and our pilot (Wayniac on this day) went to land us.

Wayniac: “Is that another bear? That’s two more bears!!”

Claire: “Do you think we could get a little closer for a picture?”

Wayniac: “First I want to herd them all up and move them together.”

[Yes, that’s right. There are now so many bears that we are talking about herding them. HERDING BEARS? Give me a break. Are you serious?]

Heidi: “Perhaps we should let camp know that you’re going to be late getting back?”

So, we radio camp and tell them that the heli is going to be late returning.

Response: “Oh, that actually works out really well for us. We need the helipad for another machine.”

Claire: “SAY WHAT?” (off the radio). “Who says that?”

Heidi: “Yup, that’s right. Let’s take stock. There are 3 bears, 2 girls, 1 shotgun, and 1 happy logistics person. Perfect. And probably no charr. RATS. Where’s the third bear?”

So with two of the bears north of our site and the third unaccounted for, Wayne wisely decided to leave us on an island while he slung the boat over. Excellent strategy. As I alluded to above, the key to a good bear strategy is an escape pod. LRB arrived and we moved to the lake. We named the bears Ursula (mom), Archie (cub 1), and Sam (cub 2) while we were waiting for the boat and munching on our lunch. The boat arrived and our pilot checked one last time for bears.

Wayne: “Heidi, you can check Ursula approximately 3 miles north and closing.”

Heidi: “F-WIS, you can check leaky red boat out of the cargo net and onto the lake of futile death.”

Tundra math: 3 bears + 2 girls + 1 shotgun = 0 tundra naps. Well, at least no tundra naps on LAND.

The return of Beatrice, Rosie, and Spinny

As experienced blog readers are aware, when the going gets tough, Beatrice and Rosie get going. Up to August 10th, the weather was not so terrible as to warrant the return of Beatrice and Rosie but on August 11th, that changed.

Heidi (on the evening of the 10th): "Mem, what do you think if we pack up most of this camp tonight and then have a bit of a sampling adventure tomorrow before we leave?" (Unrolls topo map).
Maril (looking at Heidi distrustfully and remembering previous "adventures" that involved dragging zodiacs through rapids and going on 20 mile boat rides through the Arctic ocean with an incomplete map): "What are you thinking?"
Heidi: "Well, DFO wanted me to sample a lake that's about a kilometre up the hill from here for landlocked charr. We'll need nets, a cooler, spinny, and floats."
Maril: "Spinny, eh? Did you patch the Chewy-induced holes from last year?"
Heidi: "Yup, Erik got me onto using bike tire patches. They work really well."
Maril: (Still looking skeptical) "Mmmmhmmmm. And how exactly are we going to get the gear up the lake?" (no wagons this year)
Heidi: "Well, you know my RIDICULOUS seal bag of death? It's 115 L. I should be able to put the cooler AND Spinny in there."
Maril: "Heidi, that's retarded. I'll drag the cooler with a harness made from webbing."
Heidi: "Great!"

And so, the next day dawned. We outfitted Mark with some waders from DFO so that he could cross the stream and join us. Unfortunately, they were a TITCH large. He stood in the back of the cabin holding them up to his neck, waiting for us to notice his goofy grin. We hoped he wouldn't have to use them much. We shouldered our packs and harnesses of death and proceeded up the hill in good spritis.



About halfway, Maril said, "I'm wet from the inside out."


Heidi: "I HATE being damp at 9 am. And I STINK."



Maril: "Rosie, I believe this is the EASIEST thing we have EVER done."
Beatrice: "Indeed."

After reaching the lake (longest kilometer EVER), we inflated spinny and set out. Turns out, the paddles we had weren't EXACTLY designed for paddling spinny and setting gill nets. The wind picked up, and it started to pour rain. As in monsoon. With thunder.

Heidi (yelling over the wind and rain after setting the second net): "Mem, do you think it would be: a) faster; or, b) slower to to get to shore and walk Spinny around the lake?"
Mem: "I'm not sure, but it would be: c) far less painful."

150 m of paddling has never been so painful in the history of the world. As we struggled out in another hour after eating soggy trail mix and soggy hummus that was over re-hydrated and then monsooned upon, our triceps burned and Spinny was spinning fiercely.

Beatrice: "Rosie, I believe this "boat" was intended for recreational use only. And we are NOT recreating."
Rosie: "I know, darling, I agree. But don't you think this is REALLY the easiest thing we've ever done ? Do you want another crumpet?"

We caught 4 charr. DFO wanted 50. Such is life.

Pooping on the Tundra

Okay, we've already had a blog entry about pooping on the tundra. But this year's pooping trials were at an entirely new level. Not only were we contending with bugs, rocky permafrost (difficult to dig holes in), and the cold north wind on one's butt, but there were also bears and 12 american fishermen. What on earth is a girl to do? After holding it ceased to be an option, Marilynn and I looked at each other.

Marilynn: "Do you know where the poop bags are?"
Heidi: [Sigh] "Yes. Funnily enough, the paper bags are branded "Goodtimes.""
Marilynn: "How appropriate."

At which point, we made an inventory of pooping equipment. This year, the list included:
- 1 ziploc bag
- 1 paper bag
- toilet paper
- folding hand trowel
- hand sanitizer
- shotgun
- shells
- bear kit

After gathering the appropriate gear, you had to find a rock that was large enough for a bit of cover and a location where it would be unlikely to be approached by grizzlies from behind.

On day 4, the following conversation ensued.

Maril: "Hmmm. Have you seen the poop shovel? As in, the *only* poop shovel?"
Heidi: "You pooped last."
Maril: "Oh God. OH boy." [Maril starts dancing around the cabin]. "Mari-lynn, this is SERIOUS business."
Heidi (giggling, and knowing that karma will catch up with her in a few hours): "Well, you could try using a rock. Or a piece of wood. I'm not going to lie, though, it's going to be tricksy."
Marilynn: "This is a very serious predicament. Maybe I left it out there? Luckily, I remember exactly where I was last. Oh oh. What if I left it by the river when I was washing my hands and the tide came up?"
Heidi: "In that case, we have a pretty serious problem."

Happily, the poop shovel was located. Note: All poop shovels should be labelled with flagging tape. Along with all radios, GPS units, sunglasses, and knives.

Peek-a-boo

Well, after Mark checked for bears and Maril and I set up the cabin, we all turned in for a well-deserved sleep. Heidi, predictably, was freezing and was totally caterpillared in her sleeping bag. At approximately 2:47 am, she heard some strange noises outside the cabin. Maril, in the meantime, had woken up and looked toward the door (sans glasses). She saw something brown and moving. In retrospect, she really wishes she had done something heroic....something dramatic. What she did do was assess the situation in approximately two nanoseconds. It went something like this.

Maril to Maril: "Brown thing at door. Bear. My gun at door. 1/2 foot from bear."

Maril to rest of cabin: "HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT HOLY SHIT!"

Heidi at this point realizes that those worrisome noises were from a worrisome source. Unfortunately, pupating from her mummy bag was proving difficult and she was stuck.

Marilynn: "GUYS, WAKE UP!!"

Heidi emerges to see Peek-a-boo with two paws on the glass part of the front door. She dives for her gun (at the back door) and both Maril and Heidi yell, "Mark, BEAR, MARK, BEAR, MARK!!!!"

Mark snores.

"MARK!"

Mark wakes up. The movement of Heidi and Mark has caused Peek-a-boo to sidle off with barely a backwards glance. Mark saunters calmly outside and fires some shots and bear bangers. Mark comes back in.

Mark: "Chill out."

Marilynn: "Well, it should be REALLY easy to fall asleep now!"

Maril and I stared at the door for approximately 15 minutes.

Mark: "Small bear."

Arrival at Nauyuk

So.....the arrival at Nauyuk was slightly more exciting than we anticipated. Our helicopter with the sling load was approximately 5 minutes ahead of us and arriving at the site when we heard:

"Fox Kilo Kilo this is Whiskey Igloo Sierra. Can you let Heidi know that she's got some visitors.....there's a float plane here and some peope....and a grizzly.....wow what a great spot.....oh SHIT I'm chasing the bear toward the people."

So, a grizzly scare-off ensued. The bear ended up an uncomfortably short mile from our camp. We landed and took stock.

Heidi: "Well, my grandmother said you're never safe from suprises until you're dead. She was right."

Twelve American fishermen and an ALBATROSS float plane were anchored at the far end of Nauyuk inlet. Maril and I looked at each other.

Maril: "Hmmm. Heidi, what do you suppose the bozo rating of these fishermen is? And how the heck did they find this place?"

Heidi: "Tough to say on both counts. Let's assess how much camouflage they are wearing."

Turns out, some of the 12 had quite a low bozo rating while others...well, we're sure you can imagine. In any case, it meant we didn't have to fish for charr. We subsampled 30 of their fish and fish sampling was over in a snap.

In the meantime, we were setting up camp in our comfy little cabin and Mark was assessing the bear situation. Maril and I assessed other situations.

Heidi: "Let's take stock. There are 12 American fishermen and at least one bear. I'm not going to lie. It's going to be tough for a girl to pee around here."

Maril: "Indeed. What do you think we should be more worried about? The guys with a lot of firepower and a plane or the bear (s)?"

Heidi: "Do you think they have beer?"

Well, Heidi, I think we are ready to take over the world.

Afficionados of "Pinky and the Brain" will know that the mission of Brain and Pinky is to take over the world. With the amount of gear we have, I think we are ready, too.

Maril and I are headed to our beautiful Nauyuk camp tonight. Hopefully we have less encounters with Chewy this year, but we are well prepared either way.

Maril: "Let's take stock. I think we are almost ready. We have two boats, two helicopters, and two shotguns. We pretty much have the army, navy, and air force."

Heidi: "Indeed. We also have a generator, solar panel, a week worth of food, and 3 coffee crisps. I think we're good to go. Not to mention 130 L of fuel. Holy crap. How are we going to transport 130 L of fuel?"

The answer lies in the dual helicopter strategy. We are using two helicopters - one will sling most of our equipment and the second will take Maril and I and Mark. That way there is also two helicopters for when we are flying over water. The weather is not exactly prime......we have also packed all of our puffy clothing, but with any luck we'll get a couple of nice days.

Maril: "It's fine, I'm sure it's fine. I packed extra cookies."

See you on the flip side, everyone....we should be back online in a little under a week. Take care,

Dr. Evil and Pinky

Apres Swim
Holy Sculpin, Batman!
Swimming in the Arctic Ocean

Well, August rolled in a few days ago with a bright, sunny, windy day. This, unbelievably, resulted in us downgrading to silk long underwear and taking OFF our bug jackets (GASP!). On August 1st, we had an incredible day on the Arctic Ocean, sampling, looking at the amazing views, and catching all sorts of crazy critters in our gill nets. We caught sea stars, urchins, crabs, the biggest and most beautiful sculpin in the history of the world, and cod. Maril and I were like two kids pulling in the nets and dredges.

Heidi: "What the HECK is that??"
Maril: "That's a baby sea cucumber. I think. At least, it looks sort of cucumber-ish, don't you think? Do we need cucumbers?"
Heidi: "No, but let's try to catch more."

Well, after netting in a hurricaine for the better part of the afternoon and catching NO charr but having lots of fun, we decided that the adventure rating for such a beautiful day was not quite high enough. Which brings me to a side note. Because the operation up here is about to become a mine, there are a LOT of safety guys around. Safety guys seem to take a bit of an exception to us, and really do not like the fact that we are in boats, that we use gill nets, that we take guns into the field...etc etc etc. So, the rule is that if you hear an unknown helichopper, sit down in the boat until the pilots give you some sort of code over the radio. This could consist of, "F-ZAR off of Windy bound Roberts Bay with 5 safety guys." That means, "Yo, fish chicks, get out your invisibility cloaks." We also have code names....the air traffic guy here (affectionately known as Wolverine) refers to us as Dr. Evil and Pinky. In any case, we've been working quite far from camp lately and have not had any run-ins with the safety dudes. So, things can get quite boring, even when you are catching crazy critters.

Marilynn: "Heidi, do you think it would be: a) a good idea; or, b) a bad idea, to go skinny dipping in the ocean today? If we time it right, we'll only be cold for about 10 minutes before the helicopter comes."

Heidi: "A. Good idea. This is the most excellent plan I have heard all day. But the timing could be tricky. It's going to be tough to jump into our super suits at high speed when we're wet. Let's DO it."

And so, we had our 30 second dip. Followed by a mad rush back into the super suits and some missing articles of clothing......socks didn't quite make it on and I'm pretty sure I had most of the beach in my head. Uncontrollable giggles ensued the whole ride back to camp.

And today the ceiling was to the ground and we waited for 2 hours for a helicopter while mosquitos ate our eyeballs. Such is life.

Holy cow! There's a strange bright disk in the sky today!

Tundra Grace

I was going to put this entry up at the end, but it seems like I should do it now. Have you ever heard the quote that it takes a village to raise a child? I also think that it takes a village to do a Ph.D. There are many many people out there who have helped this ridiculous adventure come to fruition and I am constantly humbled by your generosity. This year, I have had absolutely amazing in-kind support from Newmont, the company I am working with up here. Also, Marilynn is using ALL of her vacation time from her full-time job AND a leave without pay to come up and help me out for 3 weeks. Good grief!! Erik, my long-suffering partner, is enduring yet another summer of abandonment while Paul and Angela (Golder) and scores of friends in camp help pick bugs/entertain us every night. Tonight we even had live guitar music while bug-picking!! Karen, my supervisor, puts up with a lot of Heidi randomness and all of my friends and family seem to know when to help out and when to let me attempt something marginally insane. Thank you thank you to all of you....I truly hope that I have the opportunity to pass all of your kindness forward and I do not take any of it for granted.

Tonight I would especially like to thank Stephane, one of the helicopter owner/pilots up here (see previous entries). I found out today that Newmont will be supporting Maril's and my travel to Nauyuk this year with helicopters! Woo-hoo!! I didn't know until today, however, and we're supposed to leave on Thursday. I told Steph about this the other night and he had worked out a way to get us over there, with in-kind support from Heli Explore. Once again, Steph was going to save our butts. Thank you SOO much, Stephane. You're amazing!

I have so many entries to catch up on....we have had adventures on the sea (starfish! crabs! skinny dipping!), adventures on land (meeting an Inuit family and eating Klik), and more adventures in peeing (as always!). I'll try to get a few more entries up tomorrow and in the meantime I'll leave you with the most recent song.

If you don't hear from me after this, assume I have died of processed pork poisoning.

(To the tune of "You are My Sunshine")

You are my bug shirt
My only bug shirt
You keep me covered
And bug-bite free
I really love you
My stinky bug shirt
Even though when you're on
I cannot see

Arctic cotton and the Doris mesa

New Zooplankton sampling method


Demise of the DFO Zooplankton Net

Hello again blog-readers. So, I haven't been updating as often as I should be.....sorry sorry sorry!

Guess what? Maril has arrived!! Yay! After Claire and I finished water sampling, I worked on my own for a few days catching bugs and dodging well-meaning safety dudes. Maril arrived at 830 am on Sunday. I threw her brand spanking new super-suit at her and we were in the helichopper by 9.

So, first things first. All of my zooplankton samples that were collected last year met their demise in the Golder warehouse. Tragic. This necessitated repeat sampling this year. Sooo..Mem and I head to Doris to sample zooplankton. We are talking one hundred miles a minute, catching up on each other's news while Maril pulls zooplankton hauls. The hauls aren't great, they are full of messy phytoplankton that somehow mysteriously vortexes itself once in the bottle and leaves you with zooplankton (see picture). And then, the tundra trolls strike.

Maril: "So, Heidi.....(pause, eyes grow larger and larger as she stares at the rope in her hand)......oh ****. Heidi, we have a problem." We both stare into the murky depths as the truth dawns on us. The zooplankton net has sunk.

Now, let's take stock. We are in the Arctic. Zooplankton nets do not exactly grow on willows, and we desperately need one. First things first. I call Mike (Golder).

Heidi: "Hi Mike.....this is Heidi....yeah, I may or may not have a small problem. ummmm....do we have any zooplankton nets kicking around the warehouse? If so, do you think you could send one up by, like, something really fast? Dragons. Can you send it up by dragons?"

Mike: "Zooplankton net. Shipped on something with wings and fire. Got it."

In the meantime, Maril and I explore our options. We don't have time to come back to this lake, even if the dragons somehow do miraculously get us the net. In the meantime, we mark the spot with a buoy so that we can drop the underwater camera down the next day, look for it, and hopefully dredge it up.

(I did consider caribou antlers (see previous entry), but zooplankton nets are hopelessly un-hooky).

Heidi: "We need something with fine mesh....fine mesh....what if we take a pair of silk long johns and cable tie two nalgenes to each leg? Hmm. The long johns will stretch. What if we drag the aquarium net through the water a couple of feet down? Horizontal tow-ish?

Maril looks at Heidi with that look that says, "I think you are on crack, but I can't really say that because this is your project." Then she says, "What if we brace the aquarium net with the kick net and THEN drag it through the water?"

Trolls defeated. Our ridiculous method catches SO many zooplankton, it's not even funny. And the sample is clean as a whistle.

PS. The dragons delivered yesterday. Our method still works better.
PPS. After we radioed to ask the other crew about the whereabouts of the underwater camera, they promptly sliced if off with the motor. Retrieval plan has been aborted.

Sampling water in the Arctic in the middle of the night....what could POSSIBLY go wrong? (Check out the blooming Arctic cotton in the background - fields and stripes of white this year)
That is not dirt on the lens......
Claire, eating her peanut butter sandwich in the "security zone."

Holy bugs batman!

So, here we are and I have just finished the first round of Golder water sampling. Another rotation of workin' the night shift and filling bottles with water. You'd think this would be boring, but of course it's not. Claire, the girl from Golder that I was working with, is a kindred spirit indeed and we had a LOT of belly laughs.

The bugs are horrendous this year (on nights), ensuring that each of us check the other for "security breaches" as soon as the helicopter downwash has stopped. As we don nitrile gloves and pull drawstrings, we listen in angonized anticipation for the returning buzz that signals ONE BILLION voracious proboscii (sorry, pendants) waiting to annihilate us. The other night, on Spyder lake, it was so buggy that we couldn't fill the bottles without having to empy them to get rid of the bugs. I had to pee REALLY badly and was almost considering going in my waders, when Claire and I hatched a brilliant plan.

"Claire," I said, "I think what we should do is lock the tiller and throttle and pee when we are on plane." "The bugs fly too quickly otherwise and our butts will be hamburger."

Claire looked dubious. Claire hasn't done a lot of work on boats before. As I locked the boat into peeing position I stood up and said, "GO!" Claire looked...."How do I do this?" "Over the side, over side!" I replied frantically. I was madly attempting to get my pants back up while Claire was still leaning over, yelling, "I CAN'T GET IT OUT!"

"Are you talking to your pee or a bug?" I yelled.
"BOTH!" said Claire.

I laughed so hard that I had to blow my nose, which was a problem, because it was on the wrong side of my bug screen. Claire said, "oh, I wouldn't worry about that...I've been blowing through my bug screen all night."

Later that night, as we ate our lunch (inside our bug jackets), Claire remarked, "Heidi, there is a fair amount of peanut butter inside my bug jacket."

"I know," I said. "I can see the grease stain."

Yesterday the bugs left for about 12 hours. Because it was a hurricaine.

Hello again loyal blog readers!

Well, here we are in 2008 (already!) and it's that time of year.....the time when ice is melting, bugs are hatching, and certain psychotic fish biologists are drawn to Arctic adventure! This year, as most of you know, was supposed to be scaled-down, shorter, and less adventurous. And perhaps it will be. Then again, perhaps not. I've learned not to take these things for granted anymore. New challenges have arisen as we are working with a lot of new people at the Miramar site (now taken over by a company named Newmont). The camp is so full that it looks as if we might have to commute every day from Cambridge Bay! Anyway, the usual problems have emerged....unable to find charter pilots, can't camp because of bears, etc etc etc. But there is lots of good news, too. We have been able to get a hold of Mark, our reliable bear monitor, and he will once again accompany us to our site at Nauyuk for a bit. AND, Marilynn will be rejoining me for the Ph.D. sampling. Once again this year, some of my time up north will be spent contracting for Golder (you have to buy the bagels somehow) and part of it will be spent FINISHING UP my Ph.D. sampling (I'm serious this time, Karen......and Erik......and mom......). So, for the first couple of weeks, I'll be working with a Golder crew and then Maril will be joining me at the end of July for three weeks. That crazy girl is using all of her vacation time to borrow her dad's gun and head to the Arctic. WOO-HOO! I'm going to miss her in early July and late August, but thank goodness she's coming!! Who else would I speak to in a British accent? She says that riding a desk chair is getting awfully dull.....and driving to field sites isn't nearly as exciting as walking/boating(swimming)/helicoptering.

So, we leave tomorrow (the Golder crew and I). I'm meeting Neal the scare plane pilot for a drink in Yellowknife (this alone should be worthy of a blog entry) and then heading to Cambridge on Saturday. Apparently, both of our boats, Zippy (extremely leaky) and Whizzy (even leakier) were recently frozen to the bottom of our large storage containers in camp so we'll see how this goes. I am anticipating sinking. And a lot of weather days. The weather has to be AWFULLY good to be able to fly round trip from Cambridge to Windy every day.......

Quote of the week (courtesy of Mike Braeuer) upon hearing my tales of recent shotgun training: "It's always the sweetest girls who are packing heat."

Ta ta for now,
H