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

Creative thawing of the kemmerer nozzle

Unbelievably, started on the second pull. Way to go Whippy!

Things we Froze Today
4 hands
4 feet
2 survival suits
4 gloves
secchi rope
zooplankton net
zooplankton net rope
integrated water sampler (of death)
kemmerer (inside and out)
kemmerer rope
boat
cargo net (to the boat)
motor
motor tilt switch
buoy(s)
pH sensor
gas tank

Things that we Broke Today
kemmerer (several times)
Horiba water quality meter
Marilynn's knee
Heidi's back
Marilynn's sanity
Heidi's patience

Bubba Big Munch

So, after leaving the Kent Peninsula, Marilynn and I moved to our next site at the Naujaat Hills. We decided to employ new anti-bear tactics, including anchoring the boat offshore (as previously mentioned) and taking a bear monitor along with us. The Naujaat Hills were beautiful, the charr fishing was fabulous, and we were in high spirits. On the last day we said to each other, "we probably don't need a bear monitor, we'll be on the water most of the day and we haven't seen any bears." We did take our shotgun as per usual, though.

Well, approximately 3 hours into the day, Marilynn and I were electrofishing in the rapids that cascade down from the lake.

Marilynn: "Heidi, what's that?"

Heidi: "THAT'S a bear, eating our gear. Again."

Marilynn: "What should we do?"

Heidi: "First, I think we should remove all things from our bodies that are trippy, such as electrofishers."

Marilynn: "Good plan."

So, the usual routine. Fired off bear bangers. No response from bear. Sounded air horn. No response from bear. Shot off 8 shotgun shells in direction of bear. No response from bear. Bear is between us and the boat, and is ripping apart my brand new $100 seal bag.

Heidi: "YOU BUGGER. UNHAND MY SEAL BAG."

Marilynn: "Heidi, perhaps we should be happy he is not eating the boat. "

Heidi: "Indeed. Perhaps we should also contact camp."

At this point, we decided to move to a point where we had a better view of the bear and, since he was not responding to bear deterrants, wait until he got bored. He eventually did, and we took the opportunity to move to the zodiac. Since the radio and satellite gods were not with us on this fine day, we then removed our gill nets and followed the bear up the shore with the boat to get some pictures while we waited for our helicopter pickup time.

Marilynn: "Heidi, that is a rather large bear. Do you think there is anything left of our seal bags?"

Heidi: "Very unlikely. He probably ate my cliff bar, too, dammit!"

Marilynn: "Heidi, I believe we have lost another cooler."

The bear was then named Bubba Big Munch, because it was big and munched everything. We lost our best field bags, a cooler, and my second bottle of sunscreen. Sigh.

We are now known as the "bear girls."

The easiest thing we've ever done. Stupid Spinny. Stupid Chewy.

Spinny Escapes: Part Deux

After the arrival of Chewy, we decided that the safest course of action for boats was to anchor them offshore. Unfortunately, we may or may not have miscalculated the force of outgoing currents with the tide.

Emerging from the cabin after a satisfying lunch of soup and nut bread, Marilynn saw Heidi yell, “Shit! Where in the hell is Spinny?” and run down the hill as fast as one wearing waders and dodging hummocks can run. Mark the bear monitor spotted Spinny, approximately 300 metres offshore in the Arctic Ocean and well out of swimming range. Inside Spinny, there were floats, rope spools, and the depth sounder. Decision time.

Marilynn: Can we finish the work without that boat?

Heidi: Maybe, but we’d have to pull up a gill net without a boat, which may involve swimming down and cutting off the anchor and then dragging it from shore. Not fun. I think we should drag the zodiac down the rapids and retrieve Spinny.

Marilynn: Heidi, we then have to get the boat back UP to the lake, and Chewy chewed the cart. I think we should let the dingy go.

Heidi (pathologically stubborn): I really think we should get Spinny.

Marilynn: I really disagree with this decision. Okay, let’s go.

We proceeded to drag the zodiac down the bouldery rapids until we became permanently stuck about 2/3 of the way down. We removed the 4-stroke motor (which we were now cursing because it is extremely heavy to haul through bouldery rapids), and finished hauling both to the foot of the rapids. At this point, Spinny was out of sight but Mark the bear monitor had kept an eye on its trajectory. We followed the waves out into Parry Sound and spotted Spinny with the binoculars about 3 miles offshore.

Heidi: Well, we said we wanted to see the view from the ocean.

Marilynn: This is the most ridiculous thing I have ever done. Rescuing a DINGHY in the Arctic Ocean.

Heidi: THERE SHE IS!!!! And we’re actually rescuing the rope. We are fresh out of sideline without those spools.

Marilynn: So, this entire calamity can pretty much be blamed on our chronic shortage of sideline?

Heidi: Yup.

Whereupon we pulled up, deflated Spinny, and placed her firmly in Zippy. Upon arriving back on shore, Heidi said,

“Let’s take stock. The boat, boards, and motor weight approximately 700 lbs (as estimated by the helicopter while slinging). We have no cart because Chewy chewed the wheels. In other news, we can’t deflate the zodiac and take it apart because Chewy chewed the air hose so we won’t be able to re-inflate it.”

Marilynn: This is going to be the EASIEST thing we’ve ever done (this is our canned line whenever something is going to be ridiculously difficult).

Marilynn cunningly fashioned handles out of some random tubing we found on the shoreline and we hauled the motor (as pictured) 500 m up and down a hill in the sled sans wheels. The boat, well, we don’t have a picture of that. Basically, we took ratchet straps, hooked them around our shoulders, and started pulling 300 lbs of boat. For 500 m. Up and down a hill. Over tundra.

Spinny may be burnt at the end of the season. Grrrrrrr.

Heidi, looking a little swollen after swimming for Spinny

Spinny Escapes: Part 1

So, when we were out on the Kent Peninsula we had a zodiac on Nauyuk Lake. Zippy is a nice, sturdy zodiac with a peppy 4-stroke 15 hp motor. There is a set of rapids that joins Nauyuk Lake to the Arctic Ocean and this set of rapids is impassable to zodiacs. So, on the ocean side we had an inflatable dinghy (no motor, no keel). The dinghy’s name is Spinny, named for her incredible penchant for spinning.

Well, we may or may not have miscalculated the height of tide at this particular location. Emerging from the cabin after a satisfying lunch of nut bread and cashew butter, Marilynn watched Heidi yell, “SPINNY!!!!” and run down the hill as fast as one wearing waders and dodging hummocks can run. Heidi thought she could still grab Spinny with her waders on. Marilynn, meanwhile, grabbed Heidi a long iron pole that happened to be lying on shore. Heidi charged into the water, extended the extremely heavy pole, and felt herself slide down an extraordinarily slippy piece of algae-covered bedrock. Deciding that all was lost anyway, she dropped the pole and started swimming (in waders) after Spinny. Spinny was retrieved, and Marilynn laughed for at least 15 minutes at Heidi’s waders, so full of water that she looked like she was 300 lbs.
We have decided that Spinny is a recalcitrant teenager, bent on escape.

Chewy the Bear (pictured investigating one of the Inuit camps)

We are desperately behind on blogging, sorry!

So, after being on the peninsula for 3 days, Chewy the Bear showed up. Chewy is a juvenile male grizzly and he showed great interest in everything that holds (or used to hold) water, air, or fish. Chewy scored 12 points against Heidi and Marilynn and managed to maim and/or destroy floats, 2 seal bags, 1 boat, sunscreen, a cooler, Heidi's cart (!!!!!!!), etc etc. He was completely unfazed by bear bangers, shotgun shells (as noisemakers), and airhorns. After Chewy's second visit, Heidi and Marilynn took stock.

Heidi: Let's take stock. We are currently in the middle of nowhere, floating in the Arctic ocean in an inflatable dinghy with no motor. In other news, a bear is ripping into our fish cooler and he now has his front paws on the zodiac. It's 10 p.m.

Marilynn (Looking through binoculars): Heidi, I'm not going to lie. Your cart is dead.

Heidi: Hmmm. I feel we should call camp and get some advice.

Whereupon Miramar kindly agreed to send out a bear monitor to help us keep an eye on Chewy. The bear monitor arrived at 7 am the next morning via the Scare Plane and found us where we had camped on an island so as not to be eaten by Chewy. Chewy showed up twice more. The last time, Mark the bear monitor reported that he ran down the shoreline, stopped briefly to bite our inflatable dinghy (a.k.a. Spinny - more stories to come), and kept running. Spite in bear format and definitely worth a laugh.

The Most Beautiful Place in the World

After Neil left on his plane, we walked to the cabin to check it out. As we walked along the rapids from Nauyuk Lake to the Arctic Ocean we saw fish swimming everywhere. At any one time, we could count about 20 fish, mostly lake trout, but also some charr. The view from our front door was breathtaking, looking out at the bright blue ocean, between the mesas, with the river in the foreground. This place is truly special. On the top of both mesas, there are inukshuks, which Heidi and I came to regard as our guardians. The best word that we could find to describe this place is ‘sacred’.

Takin’ the Scare Plane to the Kent

This year at Windy Camp there is a Beaver (single engine prop plane on floats) that is stationed at the camp, making it easier to get people around. The pilot of this plane is named Neil, or as we like to call him, Jack Black in disguise. Imagine Jack Black (as per School of Rock) in a bug shirt, black carrhart’s, and an inflatable fishermen’s vest (in case of a hard landing) peeing off of his floats in front of eight or so people. Imagine Jack Black stuck behind a deflated zodiac in his plane with his legs waving in the air yelling, “Son of a Gun, Son of a ****.”

This is Neil and the Scare Plane. Neil, somewhat like Dick the helicopter cowboy, likes to fly low and fast. Our trip to the Kent Peninsula was somewhat of an exception because he climbed high enough to hand over the controls to Heidi so he could enjoy an ice cold Coke while doing his paperwork. Heidi, white-knuckled at the controls, pondered this state of affairs and decided to get her pilot’s license. Marilynn, white-knuckled in the back seat was busy hoping that Neil would NOT let Heidi land the plane.

Neil spots the sampling site and we circle a few times looking for float-eating boulders. Neil lands safely (Marilynn thanks God) and we get stuck in the mud slightly offshore. Neil (ever the manly man) handily jumps off his floats in Carhart’s and work boots to anchor the plane. Marilynn and Heidi (more sensibly) don their waders and proceed to hump the gear out of the plane through the mud to shore. “The gear” includes: one 15 hp 4-stroke motor, 1 12 ft zodiac, 5 coolers, 2 tubs, 1 12-V battery, 1 generator, 1 freezer, 5 jerry cans, etc etc. Jack Black lifts everything down from the plane and hands it to us. Upon completion, Jack Black (looking back at us from the floats) says, “You girls just impressed the SHIT out of me. He then hops in his plane soaking wet, and yells out the window, “when do you wanna get picked up.”

The Scene:

Heidi and Marilynn are sampling from Zippy on Hope Bay (Arctic Ocean) at 1 am on a very windy night. Large waves are rocking the boat and occasionally dragging the anchor. Marilynn forgot to pee before leaving shore. She discusses the situation with Heidi and decides the best course of action is to hang her ass off of the back of the boat and hang on.

The Script:

Marilynn: Heidi, does it make you uncomfortable that I am peeing less than a foot away from you?

Heidi: No. Could you please pass me the depth sounder?