First Day at Tesh (December 5, 2011)

8:00 am – BANG…..bang….clang……whoooosh.

Heidi: “Sounds windy.”

Chris: “I’m going outside to fill up the snow bucket.”

[Bang goes door]

“HOLY *****!!!” [Muffled yell from outside]

[BANG]

[Crash]

Chris comes in, panting slightly.

Chris: “The wind whipped the bucket right out of my hand. I can’t stand up out there.”

Heidi: “Yikes.”

Chris: “We won’t be working today. I’d also recommend that you pee in a bucket.”

Heidi: “Yuck. I’ll take the risk on the spray zone. The key is orientation.”

Chris: “The key is staying upright!”

Hangin' in the cabin on a windy day

Leaving Lonely for Tesh (December 4, 2011)

Chris looking a trifle frosty


Sounds straight forward…..17 miles, a few hours of daylight, 3 GPS units. What could possibly go wrong?

Well, we woke up frozen. Heidi, particularly, was slow off the mark and even when she did manage to get up and into her super-suit (long underwear, down pants, long underwear shirt, merino wool, micro puff, giant Canada goose jacket, 3 toques, 2 pairs of mitts, 2 pairs of socks, Baffin boots, etc), she had to stomp up and down the 5000 ft runway several times before feeling returned to her extremities. She was essentially useless. Chris started to get things ready, and then had to take his own warm-up break. Basically, we used most of our ‘light’ (twilight) getting ready.

And so we started.

Problem 1: The GPS units were pretty much all popsicles and did not function well. We had to keep putting them in our jackets to warm them up.

Problem 2: There are NO landmarks and NOTHING to point toward when the GPS arrow is not arrowing.

Problem 3: We could see Lonely for over an hour. [Demoralizing.]

Problem 4: Not much snow on tundra = very slow progress. We were slower than a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter.

One hour into the trip we stopped to stomp around and warm up.

Heidi: “Let’s take stock.”
Chris: “The GPS’s are barely functioning. We can point toward the sun-ish for about another 10 minutes. We can still see Lonely. I’m uncomfortable. Do you think we should go back?”
Heidi: [Thoughtful for several minutes]. “Probably. But I don’t want to. The lure of a warm cabin is simply too tempting.”

So, onward we forged. It was painful. We saw the tail lights of another snow machine going goodness knows where. Other than that, we saw very little. We lost some bags off the sled and had to backtrack. Heidi did step aerobics on the tundra while waiting for the retrieval mission to return.

The Borough cabin at Teshekpuk Lake is right beside the only feature – some cliffs. (A bank in any other topographical setting). Seeing those cliffs elicited a feeling of indescribable relief. Four hours after our departure, several stops, several course corrections, and 1 retrieval mission, we arrived. And the stove started.

SUH-WEET!

Arrival at Lonely (December 2, 2011)

So, after waiting a day or two in Deadhorse, Chris and I headed out to Lonely on December 2, 2011. Chris had flown out with Bob the day before to drop gear at Teshekpuk. They also flew over the route that we would be snow machining (Lonely to Teshekpuk).

Chris (yelling to Heidi over the noise of the generator as we were madly flinging gear around the hangar): “Just to warn you, it’s a little eerie. Flying, that is.”

Heidi: “What do you mean?”

Chris: “Well, it’s kind of like being inside a dimly-lit ping-pong ball.”

Heidi: “Surrounded by white…..sounds good. Can you see anything – textures in the snow or tundra?”

Chris: “Nope. Just white. Until you get to Lonely. Then you see a big radardome and a giant hangar.”

So off we flew. An hour later (Heidi was a Heidsicle), we landed at Lonely. Bob, not wanting the plane to sit for long at -30, quickly threw the engine cover on and we tossed stuff out of the plane. Bob took off.

And there we were. Lonely is an odd, odd place. It was quite pretty right when we landed. The sky was pink (as light as it ever got), and we could actually see a horizon of sorts. Lonely is an abandoned DEW line site and has supposedly been ‘remediated.’ I’m going to go ahead and call it random. In one building, which we called ‘disgusto building,’ there would be a wall ripped out, insulation down, light tubes taken out, and then a case of unopened Comet, a nightstand, and a closet with hangers in it. It was pretty eerie. The place was silent with the exception of a persistent and very rhythmic, “Clang……clang…….clang..” It sounded like an empty flagpole.

Chris: “Phew. This is like being in a creepy sci-fi movie.”
Heidi: [Surveying the scene] “What this adventure needs is a little more cowbell!”

Our first task was to find Chris’ colleague’s CONEX, unpack it, and extract the snow machine. This turned out to be a little more time-consuming than anticipated (as is everything at –stupid degrees Celsius), and started with the lock being frozen solid.

Heidi: “Too bad we don’t have a propane torch. Not that it would work at –30.”
Chris: “We’ll have to light the MSR stove.”

Turns out, matches don’t like -30, and white gas doesn’t like -30. Heidsters also do not like -30, but we knew this in advance and planned for it.
Several minutes later, the lock was thawed out.

Heidi: “Let’s take stock.”
Chris: “I am going to hold up this ridiculously heavy door and frame. You grab that 4x4 and wedge it underneath bit by bit as I lift the frame higher.”
Heidi: “Good plan. Wait. What if we get crushed?”

We were not crushed, but we could have been by the leaning tower of field gear Pisa that threatened to avalanche out as soon as we had the front open. After about an hour of meticulously removing a jumbled jigsaw puzzle of action packers from the CONEX, we could see the snow machine, and lift it out. AND it started on the second pull. Clearly, higher beings were on our side.

Until, of course, the snow machine refused to move anywhere. Turns out, the belt does not engage when the machine is that cold. Apparently higher beings enjoy amusement. We spent 20 minutes trying to start the machine for the second time. By the time it was running and moving and the sleds were hitched together, it was getting dark. We decided that it would be better to stay at Lonely than to snow machine in the dark to the cabin.

Ah, fools we be.

Chris recounted the experience to Mike via satellite phone later in the week.

Chris: “Yeah, we have a plan that will avoid the need to stay at Lonely another night.
Yeah……that was TERRIBLE!”

The good parts were: 1) zucchini casserole; and, 2) hand and foot warmers. That was all.

Waking up dark-circled and chilly on the morrow, we found that our sleeping bag torsos were covered in ice from breathing inside the bags (yes, we know, winter camping instructors). At this point, Heidi allowed that yes, wearing part of a dead seal and a dead otter on her head was indeed warmer than not. Chris was pondering at this point if it would have been: a) more comfortable; or b) less comfortable, if we had lit a bunch of pallets on fire in the hangar and attempted to sleep there.

And so it began…….Mike, Bob, and Jesus H. Dog

We can’t make this up. 70N Aviation, who flew us from Deadhorse, AK, to Point Lonely, AK is composed of Mike, Bob, and Jesus H. Dog (all pictured below). Upon arriving in Deadhorse and phoning Mike for a ride, we were enthusiastically greeted by a golden lab that we recognized from the summer.

Chris: “What’s the dog’s name?”

Mike: “Jesus H. Dog.”

Mike has a long beard, hip glasses, and lives in a seacan (CONEX for you Americans out there) beside the unheated hanger. Bob (owner) lives in a Winnebago parked at the back of the unheated hanger. Jesus H. Dog LOVES playing fetch with sticks. Sticks are thin on the ground up here (particularly in winter), but this dog can find the smallest sticks imaginable.

Mike and Bob are great. They managed to get us out to Point Lonely, AK, and back. Thank you, Mike, Bob, and Jesus H. Dog.

Seriously?

The plan

So, some of you may be wondering what in the heck was up with field work on the north slope of AK in December. Back in July, a group of us, including USGS folks and Nancy and I, went to Teshekpuk Lake, AK to catch lake trout. We were foiled. Big time. Those nefarious LKTR completely evaded our attempts to capture them. So, we had the bright idea that we should try ice fishing. Part of the problem with Teshekpuk Lake is that it is HUGE, and it is difficult to get to some spots on the lake from where the research cabin is located without a lot of fuel, a pretty big boat, and a lot of luck. Travelling on the ice would surely be easier, non?

Ah, yes.

The easiest thing we have ever done.

The plan was for Chris (USGS) and I to charter from Deadhorse, AK, to Point Lonely, AK. Point Lonely is an old DEW line station with a nice airstrip, and some other USGS folks have equipment there that they kindly allowed us to use. The plan was to snow machine from Lonely to Teshekpuk and go ice fishing. Why now? In the dark? Well, we thought there would be too much ice in April. Like, a LOT too much ice. And the ice was late coming on this year. Hence December instead of November.

'A' on the map is Deadhorse. 'B' is Point Lonely. 'C' is Teshekpuk.

Easy, right?

What could POSSIBLY go wrong?

I should mention that this plan was a lot easier than earlier iterations of plans, including 60 mile snow machine rides and self-propelled transport.

The Exploding Toilet

So, living on the Arctic Star (barge) involves what Nancy and I call 'suction plumbing.' It sounds like an airplane, but much louder. The first time Nancy took a shower and the suction plumbing kicked in, she was so startled and jumped so high that she hit her head. When you hear the sink valve trip, you brace yourself for an almost deafening noise.

A couple of weeks ago, I was eating dinner while Nancy went to take a shower (having previously eaten, of course). With a spoonful of corn halfway to my mouth, Nancy came running in.

"HEIDI!!! COME QUICK!!"

This was all she said before blasting off down the hallway. Turning back she yelled, "Heidi, FASTER!"

Upon arrival in our room, I saw that the toilet was about 0.5 nm away from overflowing.

Heidi: "What did you DO?"
Nancy: "NOTHING! I didn't even pee - it just started doing it."

Quickly turning the water off, we rushed back to the kitchen.

Nancy to room in general: "Who takes care of the toilets around here??"

Keith was the person to look for.

Heidi: "What does Keith look like?"

"Oriental. Or Native."

Heidi: "This is not entirely helpful."

Nancy ran upstairs to find a person yielding a shop vac outside a bathroom and quickly ascertained this was the person we were looking for.

Nancy: "Our toilet's exploding! Are you Keith?"

Keith: [Throws down vac] "ANOTHER ONE?"

Apparently, the lines had been flushed that day and some of the valves had gone. After fiddling with some things for a bit, Keith left and then came back.

"I just checked the system and she's right pinned. This whole line is running at 60 PSI."

Nancy: "60 PSI??? The TOILET is running at 60 PSI?"

Yes. And this is why it exploded.

Last day of fishing today - Nancy is back down south and Chris has been in for a week. Wish us luck catching spawners in a boat that floats.

EPIC....E-PIC

So, September 8, 2011 was epic.

Arrival at site. We go to land beside our aluminum boat and zodiac.

Nancy: "Don't land...DON'T LAND!!!"
Pilot: "What?"
Nancy: "Lots of bears, LOTS of bears."
Pilot: "Where?"
Nancy: "THERE! In our gear!! There are....1...2... THREE bears."

Landing not being an option, we reassessed. Coming back later, doing a big bear sweep, and seeing no bears, we also employed a strategy where the pilot waited for us to launch our boat with all of our gear before taking off. We then moved all of our gear to the side of the lake where the bears don't seem to hang out.

H: "To the ESCAPE POD!! Ha ha!! Look at the escape pancake (zodiac looking flat)! Good thing we don't have to inflate that while the blades are turning!"

So, while our pilot sat on the ground with the blades turning, N and I hucked stuff into the escape pod and got out onto the lake, at which point the helichopper could safely leave. We didn't have time to change into our waders during this panic, and I went over my boots. LOVE going over my boots at 9 am. Safely changed into dry stuff on a bear-free beach, N and I set the nets, and then went to bear-free beach #2 for a snack and warmup walk. During the time, a siksik ate ANOTHER of Heidi's dry bags (it had NO food in it), and Heidi did a siksik dance to ward it off.

After swearing at the nefarious nature of siksiks and their seal-bag eating ways for a good 5 minutes, we discovered that we were freezing and went on a constitutional to check out an abandoned silver mine (which has happily been nicely reclaimed since the last time I saw it).

Toes warmed, we went to check the nets. And, as usual, crap weather means good fishing. Nancy saw her first red charr, and we caught a HUGE lake trout.

H: "HOLY CRAP!! It's a shark! Look at the head on that thing!!"

N: "It's a TUNA! Look, you can see a fish down its throat."

H: "Well, now our boat will REALLY be a bear attractant. Good thing it's aluminum. As far as I know, they can't eat aluminum. But I have been proven wrong by bears in the past. And siksiks. DAMN that siksik!"

The Lake of Futile Death and the Leaky Red Boat Reunite

After our return from Nauyuk, where we caught our limit of fish but hardly any spawning females (DOH!), we headed to Hovaktok (Louie Lake). Experience had taught us that this lake can be very, very tricksy. In fact, it has been named the Lake of Futile Death in previous years. Previous experience has also taught us that there can be a LOT of bears at Hovaktok.

Nancy: “Heidi, I feel that your luck and my luck together are…….catastrophic.”

Heidi: “This indeed appears to be the case. Let’s take stock. We have one barely floating boat (LRB), a few less floats, a plug in cooler that is now a box, and some damaged camping equipment. Our radio doesn’t work from Hovaktok. I feel that we need to plan for ALL contingencies.”

Nancy: “I used to think you were cynical and a bit pessimistic. Now I realize you are just realistic. Let’s take both bear kits and extra noodles.”

This being decided, we slung out camping equipment, food, and fuel in the likely eventuality that the ceiling would come down while we were working one day and we would be unable to get home. We also signed our gun in and out every day, AND we brought all of our nets home every day. This was extremely time consuming, as it involved taking all floats and weights off and bagging the nets BEFORE trying to wrassle them into the helichopper. The strategy apparently worked, as we did not see a single bear during our entire time there!!! The fishing was weird – as opposed to previous years we did not catch big spawning charr, and once again the spawning female lake trout were very elusive – BUT we did not have our equipment ransacked by bears. We also did catch our limit of lake trout, which was great, and we saw a wolf!

The other great thing is that Nancy is turning into a nerd. Quite often, Nancy speaks of ski patrol and rafting. The other day on the bus up from the barge, Nancy hadn’t said anything for about 5 minutes. This was unusual. Then she said, “I can’t believe that female last night was resting!! She even had her red fins on.” Later that day Nancy said, “Phew. This periphyton is slippery.”

Other quotes:

Nancy: “Oh, hello pretty lake trout. Welcome to the LRB. Population: you. Oh look, you are a ripe male.”

Heidi chuckles evilly. Another convert. ☺

The only problem these days is that we are a little short on sleep and have slept in the last two mornings. When this happens, Heidi bolts awake and shouts, “NANCY, IT’S GO TIME!”

Nancy: “WHERE ARE MY PANTS? WHY ARE THEY BACKWARDS?”
Heidi: “GO GO GO GO GO GO – we’re going to miss the shuttle!”
Nancy: “Heidi (upward inflection) – why are we always running when we’re awake?”
Heidi: “We can’t run while sleeping.”
Nancy: “I never drank coffee before I started working for you. Now I rely on it.”
Heidi: “And this is unfortunate, because we are running low on high-test. Too bad we can’t inject this into our veins.”
[Nancy bites into first cinnamon bun of the day]

Today we start our first real day on Roberts Lake. The Lake of Futile Death (now the lake of grudging life once again) is complete for this year. Good news: we can switch to an aluminum boat (maybe). Bad news: there are three bears in the area. Ha!

The Pump

As some of you may remember, when we arrived here there was ONE pump for the leaky red boat, and it had to stay with the rescue boat [read: safety pancake]. Mike Braeuer shipped us a pump overnight, and the above photo shows what we did to ensure that it was not purloined. Nancy spent the better part of a weather morning on this.

On the day it arrived, we carried Super Pump everywhere around camp.

Heidi: “ I don’t want to put this pump down. Where will we store it?”
Nancy: “When one tires, the other one will carry.”

Super Pump, we thought, was not going to be useful once we got our new boat. Sadly, the new boat had no need of a pump because it held air about as well as a colander. So, Super Pump’s value sky-rocketed.

Yesterday, we arrived at LRB at Roberts Lake to find that a bear had ransacked the place. One dead float, many scratched floats, bear hair in boat, gill nets upended, etc etc. We walked over to LRB in trepidation…..had the bear ate Super Pump? Pumps have been eaten before…..

Nancy: “PHEW! Luckily, the bear read the death note! Okay, I’m going to turn the escape pancake back into an escape pod.”

Heidi: “Good idea. As we know, the key to a good bear strategy is an escape pod. [Counts floats]. Sigh. Good thing Mike gave us extras!! We should tell those bear DNA folks to fly over here. Actually, maybe they should just follow us around.”

Before the hurricane

Days 2 and 3 at Nauyuk


Day 2 at Nauyuk Lake dawned clear-ish and calm-ish, and the extremely leaky red boat arrived at approximately 1 pm. By 5, we were setting nets. True, we could see air bubbles coming out of the pontoons, but this was not a problem as long as we kept on top of the pump situation. Which, thanks to Mike Braeuer, we could. The pump deserves its own post, but that will come later. ☺

So, after catching some fish, we put them on strings on processing island (along with the nets – to avoid attracting bears), and headed back to camp. The next morning dawned hurricaney. Winds were gusting to 50 knots, and Doris Camp reported that they were getting blown off of the mountain. After hemming and hawing, we decided that we could get the nets and fish from the island (it’s quite close to the cabin), but we could not set any nets. So, processing began! First challenge: how to weigh fish parts on a sensitive digital scale in a hurricane.

Hank: “Well, Jim, I think the only way around this is to set up the tent. I’d rather not do this because it’s my own personal tent and is likely to become completely covered in fish guts, but I think it’s our only option.”

Jim: “Hmmmm. I think you might be right. Is that the lake blowing off the lake?”

Hank: “Yes.”

So, we took Mark down to American beach where there are drums and a giant piece of wood (rare commodities) to cut fish on, and asked him to scope out a slightly more sheltered spot to set up the tent. We saw him shake the tent out of the bag, and we were a tad concerned. But hey, Mark camps all the time. What could possibly go wrong?

Approximately halfway to the island to get the nets and fish, Nancy’s eyes got REALLY wide.

“HOLY SHIT!!”

Expecting to see a bear and preparing herself for it, Heidi turned toward shore. Whereupon she witnessed her $400 Nunatuk 4-season MEC tent cartwheeling across the tundra and cliffs and headed for the drink. Revving the ELRB as high as possible, she beat it toward shore at an angle of interception. Nancy, oblivious to her personal safety, launched herself out of the boat in an attempt to tackle the tent. Unfortunately, the water was over her waders. However, she avoided the abyss by somehow grabbing onto a boat handle and literally catapulting herself toward shore.

Heidi: “NANCY!!! Look BEFORE you leap!!!”

Nancy: “It’s the raft guide in me!!!!”

After successfully tacking the tent and surveying the damage (one large rip in the nylon, one medium rip in the nylon, and one damaged pole), we looked up to see Mark beating it over the cliffs.

“Windy.”

Good grief.

Let’s take stock. One ELRB, one plug in cooler that is a box, one bag of cookies and danishes from the kind people at camp, one bag of emergency jelly beans from Jill, 10 L of kerosene, two sooty stoves, a hurricane, and one damaged tent.

But no bears!! And no bugs, either.

Arrival at Nauyuk

Arrivals at Nauyuk tend not to be dull (please see previous entries from 2007 and 2008). This year proved to be no exception. After waiting for good enough weather for 1.5 PAINFUL days, we circled above Nauyuk and I noticed the cabin looked….different. That’s because a bear had ripped the front door out by the frame. There was insulation everywhere, siksik poo everywhere, it smelled like bear pee, the stove was on its side on the floor, 1/3 of the ceiling was down, a bunch of vapour barrier was down, etc etc. Basically, there was a giant mess.

Heidi to Mark: “Well, Mark, looks like we have some fixing to do.”

Mark: “Heh…. yep!”

Pilot to Nancy: “Are you sure you girls are going to be okay here?”

Nancy: “Oh, COME ON! Just because we’re out here in the middle of nowhere doesn’t mean we have lost our domestic skills. We’ll have this place fixed up in no time.”

Heidi: “Let’s take stock. Our stash of nails has been stolen. We have no broom. In other news, the windows have fallen out of the door, and the door is a pancake on the tundra. On the bright side, the frame is still in one piece.”

Mark to Nancy: “Nancy, let’s go to Walmart.”

So, Nancy and Mark take off down to the other camps in search of goods. Heidi, in the meantime, takes apart what is left of the freezer outside (see previous entry where she stripped the wiring) and the fridge inside in order to scavenge screws. Mark and Nancy come back grinning. They have found a box of nails, and have taken the middle screw out of every hinge in every door at the other camps. They have also scared up the brooms that Heidi and Marilynn used in previous years.

Two hours later, we had a frame, a door, and the windows were being held by Tuck Tape. The inside still smelled slightly of bear pee, but otherwise we were in good shape. It was time to haul stuff up to the cabin. It turned out, upon inspection, that our plug-in cooler (shipped in its original packaging) had arrived without its cord. This effectively rendered it a box. No matter, we had brought a GIANT stash of icepacks and an Xtreme Cooler for just such an eventuality.

So, the time came to inflate the boat. We had been gloating for the previous 2 days about how we had a boat shipped overnight from Edmonton to camp, to replace the leaky red boat (which had become the extremely leaky red boat). We had tested to make sure that the floor boards fit, and had inflated it half way. Assured that the boat was pressure-tested, we packed it up in the pouring rain and shipped it to Nauyuk.

Ah, fools we be.

After each of us pumping for what seemed like an eternity, Mark started circling the boat. Nancy and Heidi stopped pumping. And listened. It was not so much a hiss they they heard, but a gush. Nancy knelt down near the bow of the boat and pressed on a pontoon. Her face got closer. And closer.

Nancy: “Well!! There’s your problem, Hank!”

There was a 2-inch gash in the seam of our recently-shipped boat. The leak was so bad that the boat wouldn’t even inflate. While Nancy attempted to patch it (we knew this would be unsuccessful, but hey, might as well give it a whirl), Heidi phoned camp.

“Hi Jill, this is Heidi. Ummmm. If you could somehow get us the extremely leaky red boat, that would be great. The thing is, that one at least deflates after inflating, instead of just refusing to inflate in the first place.”

Jill, bless her for all eternity, assured us in extremely comforting tones that the boat would be flown out that night or the next morning. Somewhat deflated (literally) at this point, we decided that the best course of action would be to call it a long day and have some supper.

This, also, turned out to be slightly more difficult than originally anticipated. Surprisingly.

A few weeks earlier, Heidi had asked for some white gas to be shipped to camp. This is a dangerous good and takes some special handling, so folks in Yellowknife had kindly agreed to take care of this. The fuel arrived in its dangerous goods packaging, and thinking that we should leave it in that packaging for the sling to Nauyuk (to prevent leaks), that is exactly what we did.

Ah, fools we be.

It was kerosene, NOT white gas.

Now, kerosene will burn in Heidi’s MSR stoves, but not well, and not unless you change the fuel jets. Being too tired to read the label properly, Heidi did notice that the fuel did not light well and was sootier than all heck. When the stove erupted into a giant fireball and she just about lit the cabin on fire, she deduced that this was NOT white gas. A phone call to Erik later and the digging out of her instruction manuals and stove maintenance kits (which she did have) resulted in a sooty Heidster, changed fuel jets, and stoves that would work…….with a lot of patience.

“Let’s take stock. We have a bear-ravaged cabin, a plug-in cooler that is effectively a box, stoves that smoke like a hot damn, and absolutely no way to float. It is day 9 in the field. RATS AND SQUIRRELS! But the door is back on. And mom’s zucchini casserole is amazing. Even if I may or may not have added some carbon.”

Nauyuk is as beautiful and peaceful as ever. No bears yet! (Only the evidence thereof).

Hmmmmm. It has turned to 'Fogust'

This term was coined by Maury, one of our pilots, and relayed to me by Angela. The weather, unlike that shown in the photo above (our first night - we're staying on the barge to the right), has turned, well, craptacular! We are scheduled to leave for Nauyuk tomorrow, but we will see if the ceiling is high enough. Once again, we will be employing the dual helicopter strategy, where an A-star slings our gear and we follow in the long ranger. We have Mark on board again (hopefully - he should turn up tomorrow), a whole bunch of Heidi-friendly food, a boat that FLOATS AND an accompanying pump, and enough gill nets to hopefully catch some fish!!

I anticipate, however, that the tough will have to get going. Not going to lie - the weather is NOT pleasant. In previous years, Kathryn and I adopted song-writing as a coping skill. Marilynn and I had alter egos - Beatrice and Rosie, of course. Nancy and I have also adopted alter egos - Hank and Jim. It all started with us figuring something out and me saying to Nancy, "Well, there's your problem, Hank!" After looking at me strangely, shaking her head, and taking a bite of the stale marshmallow square in her pocket, she said, "That's right, Jim! The problem here is that your patches have been ripped off and replaced with duct tape (true story!)."

So, if you don't hear from us until August 25th, this is a good thing. If you do, at least we can take our boat that floats and go fishing somewhere near by!!!

- Hank and Jim

Heidi taking one in the chin and dissecting a disgusting carcass with tools from the first aid kit - excellent potential for large otoliths

Return of the Leaky Red Boat (or is it final death for the leaky red boat?)

So loyal blog readers, you’ve waited a long time for this post. Three years in fact. This year, it’s Nancy and I, and we’re back at Hope Bay. Things are looking a little different around here. There is an airstrip, roads, a giant camp (or is it a rat maze?), and even MORE safety rules. A girl can’t go anywhere without PPE on around here.

Anyway, Nancy and I arrived on Friday, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Even 1.5 days of safety orientations did not dampen our spirits. At one point, Nancy even said, “Wow, this place seems really organized.”

Ah, fools we be.

If you cannot remember the story of the leaky red boat (LRB), please refer to previous blog entries. Suffice to say that LRB has seen its share of service. It may or may not have encountered the following things in its long, long life: a) attack by grizzly; b) slung into broken piece of drill stem; c) picked up with a fork lift and dragged across beach.

Anyhoo, LRB was supposed to be less leaky (we were dubious, but chose to believe). In fact, rumour had it that LRB had been replaced. On Saturday afternoon, after safety orientation 375647c, Pants (i.e., Nance) and I headed down to the location of the boat. Our guide proudly announced in a Newfie accent, “I’s soaped her all down good, and look at this – she’s rock hard!” At this point, Pants and I looked at each other dubiously. Why? Our eyes said to each other, “I hear hissing, do you hear hissing?” Foolishly choosing to ignore this ominous sound, we prepared ourselves for a Sunday am departure.

Sunday am dawns. Pants and Heids head to the helipad and look at the boat. It’s flat as a pancake. No worries. We’ll pump it up.

Ah, fools we be.

The original armada of boats is unfortunately not accompanied by the original armada of pumps. There is ONE pump with ONE correct attachment. Unfortunately, new safety regulations require that said pump stay with the ‘rescue’ boat that lives in a sling ready to rescue people at a moment’s notice. [Sidenote: rescue boat is also currently flat as a pancake].

Pants and I are undeterred, know we will figure something out, and head to the 730 safety meeting.

Direct quote from Nancy after the meeting, “Heidi, I’ve never really understood why people think The Office is funny. I understand now.”

Chair of meeting: “Heidi, do you have any safety concerns for today?”

I really did ponder my next words carefully. I knew what I should say, and then there was what I did say.

“Well. My boat’s flat as a pancake, and it’s going to sink like a rock to the bottom of the lake.”

[Nancy bursts out laughing, only to realize that nobody else is laughing.]

“So. I guess I’ll deal with that.”

Seeing that half of western civilization is up on this patch of tundra this year, we were informed that ‘The Fountain Tire Guy’ would patch our boat. We waited for a day. We visited Roberts Outflow, caught some char, did the same thing again, had a somewhat humorous electrofishing experience. No patched boat. These two prairie girls decided to take matters into their own hands.

“Nance. I’m going to try to get a pump flown in from Golder. Yes, I know I have no way to pay for said pump and we are not working for Golder this year. However, I think this is our best shot.”

Nancy: “Agreed.”

At which point, Nancy, with her considerable experience patching rubber boats, patched the rubber boat. This was not easy. All of the repair kits on site were well past their glue-by date. We used bike tire patches that we brought from Edmonton. After 5 hours of patching, Nancy declared the job a success. With baited breath, we left the boat to cure, and decided to check this morning if it was holding air. In the meantime, and as if by a miracle of god, Mike from the warehouse at Golder got us a pump. We don’t know how. Also, he sent us a candy necklace. We owe Mike many, many cheeseburgers.

Fast forward to this morning.

“Hey Nance, why don’t you go check the boat, and I’ll do up the journey plan and track our still-missing generator, white gas, and blue Rubbermaid.”

Nance: “Cool.”

Heidi was halfway through figuring out where the erstwhile generator may or may NOT be, when Nancy returned.

“Heidi, the boat’s gone.”

“What do you mean, the boat is GONE?”

“The boat’s gone.”

After staring at each other and laughing hysterically (it is Tuesday, and we arrived on Friday and have still not seen the water), we go down to find the dude who might know what’s gone on.

“Oh, sorry there girls….I forgot to tell the tire guy not to pick up the boat.”

The boat had been picked up by the tire guy. Upon further investigation, it was discovered that he removed every last patch from that boat, and that it was unlikely to be in service any time soon. This discovery may or may not have involved us hitchhiking a ride in a cube van and wandering around asking where the tire shop was. A particularly memorable response was,

“What’s a tire?”

So, you may ask, what are we going to do? Well, of course any rescue mission must involve Mike at Golder. Angela (formerly Golder, now our Newmont contact!) moved heaven and earth and other planetary units and arranged for this to be a legal and paid operation, via Claire (who I would imagine is laughing as I type this).

So. We have a pump. Mike, bless him forever, was going to drive our boat to the Edmonton airport tonight or have it picked up at the crack of stupid tomorrow morning. It will arrive by Buffalo on Thursday. We are scheduled to leave with Mark for Nauyuk on FRIDAY.

Quotes from Mike, “Boat…boat….Heidi, not sure if we have one. How soon do you need it? Stupid question. Yesterday, right? Boat….boat…..here’s one! And I just got an email that said I’m authorized to send this. Don’t worry, Heidi, we’ll get there. Sometimes we get to the finish line upside down and on fire, but we’ll get there.”

Know what’s great? We haven’t been able to test the motor.

What could be possibly go wrong?

Nothing, because quite obviously, this is the easiest thing we’ll ever do.

Pants and Heids

PS. Don’t worry, mom – we’ve bribed the cook and I am eating actual food.

Hi ho, hi ho, back to the north I go......

And I need someone to come with me!!

LAB/FIELD TECHNICIAN JOB POSTING FOR ARCTIC FISHERIES PROJECT

I am looking for a hard-working, enthusiastic lab and field assistant to assist with a collaborative fisheries research project in the Arctic

Responsibilities will include:
• Preparation of laboratory samples
• Assistance with fisheries permit applications and returns
• Up to 2 months of remote Arctic field work (expect extensive travel)
• Preparation of educational materials for NWT and Nunavut communities
• Partial supervision of second assistant

Eligibility
• Undergraduate (completed or currently enrolled) education (subject area flexible)
• Interest in freshwater Arctic ecology
• Interst in engaging communities
• Sense of humour
• Experience in remote environments
• Certification (or willingness to be trained) in wilderness first aid
• Possesion and acquisition license (or willingness to obtain license) for restricted and unrestricted firearms

Pay is $2,500 per month for up to 10 months. Start date negotiable but as soon as possible. Current students may apply for the field season (beginning of May to end of August) only. Send resume, cover letter, and dates available to: arcticfieldjobATgmail(.com)