Category Archives: Canadian Rivers Project

The Small Canadian Arctic River Flows (SCARFs) project blog-category. All blog posts for this project will be in this category.

Day 7 – Seals, I have been “Waiting for You”

Greg gearing up for a great day out on the water. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Greg gearing up for a great day out on the water. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

I woke up with a start to my 6:15 alarm. I had been dreaming about going back out on the water in our 10-foot inflatable boat. The boats have three main chambers that are filled with air and a fourth chamber that helps form a small keel on the bottom of the boat. In the dream, one of the main chambers had been catastrophically damaged while we were out on the water. The boat started to sink and take on water – cold, bone-chilling water. As we had discovered the day before, the water near the surface hovers around 14 degrees Celsius (that’s about 57 degrees Fahrenheit for everyone reading this in the states). The temperature begins to plummet quickly as you get deeper. The most incredible thing to me was discovering that the water near the floor of the estuary is actually BELOW freezing – nearly 2 degrees below Celsius in fact. For those who remember chemistry from high school, that’s actually around 28 degrees Fahrenheit. Regardless of the specifics, all I remember in the dream was that the water was really, really cold. I thought about this dream as I showered and headed out for breakfast with the team. I made sure to grab an extra bit of warm coffee, you know, just in case that dream became a reality…

The view of Kugluktuk from the boat, nestled on the north side of the hills surrounding the town. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
The view of Kugluktuk from the boat, nestled on the north side of the hills surrounding the town. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)

After a quick breakfast we regrouped down in the garage to prepare our gear for the day. Dry bags were stuffed with lunches, an extra jacket, hat, and other gear in case the weather turned bad. The previous day we had spent nearly seven hours out on the water, and up in the Arctic weather can change dramatically in that amount of time. We loaded the truck and began taking the gear to the loading dock. I volunteered to stay and watch the gear while everyone else returned to grab the remaining equipment. The sun was shining, the sky was a deep cerulean blue, and the air temperature was pleasant. Best of all, there were not many mosquitos – not exactly bad conditions for relaxing outside while everyone else runs back to the Inn to finish packing the truck!

A few small homes on one of the islands in the middle of the Coppermine River estuary. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
A few small homes on one of the islands in the middle of the Coppermine River estuary. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)

We loaded the boats more efficiently today than the previous day. The most difficult part is always transporting and attaching the motor to the back of the boat. The motors Matt chose for the project could not be large because we have to carry them between the plane and the mouth of the river whenever we land at each sampling site. Therefore they are relatively light – a mere 50lbs or so. More importantly, they are awkward to hold. Waves that rock the boats make process of attaching the motor to the back of the boat all the more difficult. Once the motors were attached and all gear was checked we cast off from the dock toward our remaining two sample locations in the estuary of the Coppermine River.

Matt taking the boat to the other sampling spot. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
Matt taking the boat to the other sampling spot. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
Driving the boat back to town after a great day of sampling - and seeing a seal! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Driving the boat back to town after a great day of sampling – and seeing a seal! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Greg getting ready to drop the depth and salinity measuring device in the water. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Greg getting ready to drop the depth and salinity measuring device in the water. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The water was as smooth as glass. Small waves rose and fell gently past the boat. The blue sky reflected off the water. The air was still enough that a few mosquitos that were brave enough to follow us out from the dock were able to keep up. Despite our few vampire-esque stowaways allowed for by the lack of wind, the weather added to a beautiful morning to be on the boat – “So much for my nightmare about a rough day on the water,” I thought.

Two small islands in the middle of the estuary for the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Two small islands in the middle of the estuary for the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

On our way out to the first sampling location I noticed a small black object floating barely above the surface. I quickly told Greg, and we both watched it for a few seconds before it disappeared silently below the rolling waves. My heart skipped a beat.

Seal #1 popping up to say hello while we were collecting samples. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Seal #1 popping up to say hello while we were collecting samples. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Sure, on paper my job while I was here in the north was to help collect water samples at each river we travelled to. However, perhaps my greatest reason for uprooting myself from my mildly relaxing summer in St. Louis was to have the opportunity to see wildlife. More specifically, I want to see the most iconic group in the Arctic Ocean – marine mammals. Although we didn’t get a close enough look to identify the black bobbing object before it dipped below the surface of the water, my heart was racing because I knew that there was a good chance I could have just seen my first whale, seal, or some other marine mammal. It was going to be a good day.

Recording data from the CTD to get a picture of the water temperature, depth, and salinity. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
Recording data from the CTD to get a picture of the water temperature, depth, and salinity. (Photo credit: Robie Macdonald)
Tunafish sandwiches made by Nadene at the Enokhok Inn. Unfortunately I repacked them in a bad way and they got smashed. Minus the dent in the middle they hit the spot! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Tunafish sandwiches made by Nadene at the Enokhok Inn. Unfortunately I repacked them in a bad way and they got smashed. Minus the dent in the middle they hit the spot! (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Forty-five minutes later we arrived at our destination. We dropped the anchor into the water and the rope in the well of the boat came alive. It slithered over the large inflated tubes and plunged out of sight. This spot was deep – just what we were looking for. We prepared to measure the depth and salinity (salt content). Greg dropped the salinity device into the water and it reached the end of the line without striking bottom meaning it was at least 28 meters (approximately 90 feet) deep! After a few more measurements, we began collecting water samples from the estuary. My favorite part of the process was being able to feel the difference in how cold the water got as we pulled water from greater depths. As any good scientist would do, I even paused our work briefly to take a brief taste test of the briny water that was below freezing. Needless to say it was extremely cold.

Seal #2 sneaking a glance at the boat before disappearing quickly below the waves. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Seal #2 sneaking a glance at the boat before disappearing quickly below the waves. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

As soon as we began sampling, I noticed another black object bobbing at the surface 50 meters away. It appeared to rotate back and forth for a moment and was gone before I could say anything. Five minutes later it was there again, but this time I saw it in time to tell Greg and we both got a good look at it. It was a seal! Now what type of seal you may ask, well, at first we weren’t really sure. We later found out from describing what we saw to some locals that it was a ringed seal (Phoca hispida)!

Seal # 3 peering above the waves like a periscope. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Seal # 3 peering above the waves like a periscope. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Sampling went by very quickly at that station because every chance I could I was looking all around the boat for any signs of more seals. Finally we had to pull away from that spot and began the long trip back to the dock. We met up with Matt and Robie along the way and took a few more salinity measurements. I was excited to get to see the seal as we were stopped at our last station, but I could hardly stay in the boat on the way back when we saw another twenty seals!!

A pod of ringed seals (Phoca hispida) hanging out in the water on the edge of one of the sandbars separating the Coppermine River's main channel from Coronation Bay. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A pod of ringed seals (Phoca hispida) hanging out in the water on the edge of one of the sandbars separating the Coppermine River’s main channel from Coronation Bay. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Although the pictures didn’t turn out great, I didn’t mind. I was just glad to get to be so close to an animal that so few people get a chance to see. The trip home didn’t drag on after all – in fact I wish it had taken more time. Long story short, that experience “sealed” the deal, and the day, for me.

p.s. For those curious creatures out there reading this blog, yes, the title is an obscure and very random song reference for your reading (listening?) pleasure: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bHigkvUpVqY

Day 1 – “Stay Awake” (July 19, 2015)

This year’s journey north to the Canadian Arctic started off uniquely – and by unique I mean with the wedding of two of my friends, one from St. Louis and the other from Austria. On Saturday, Katie and Markus Schober (#Schoberfest) celebrated their wedding in St. Louis with family and friends. Many people even made the trip from Austria for the weekend of festivities. After the wedding and the reception concluded, the celebration continued long into the early morning.

Newlyweds Katie and Markus Schober!
Newlyweds Katie and Markus Schober!
Katie and Carolyn at the wedding reception.
Katie and Carolyn at the wedding reception.

That is where my story of my second trip to northern Canada, more specifically the Canadian Archipelago, picks up.

I looked at the clock as I got back in the car – 2 AM. I thought ahead to my flight leaving from Lambert International Airport – 5:05 AM. Although my math was a little slower due to lack of sleep, I very quickly calculated that I would be lucky to get 30 minutes of sleep before I had to turn around and head to the airport. Nevertheless, I returned to my apartment to finish packing (yes, for some reason I was not 100% ready to leave even though the flight left in 3 hours). After another 45 minutes of packing I set everything out for one final check. With only a few minutes to spare I brought my gear out to the car and took off for the airport. Carolyn volunteered to drive my car back from the airport, despite having to cut her sleep in half for the night. At 3:45 AM we got on the highway and sleepily made our way to the airport. Now it was 4 AM and I pulled up outside the American Airlines terminal and walked, zombie-like, into the fluorescent lighting.

Between St. Louis and Chicago I slept on the plane – one hour of sleep to start making up for the deficit incurred from the previous day’s festivities. In Chicago I met up with one of the lead researchers for the trip, Greg Lehn. Greg and I were roommates in college, and are both self-proclaimed science nerds. We both love the process of observation and discovery that science provides. It was for this mild (ok, maybe severe) addiction to studying nature that we decided to wake up early on a Sunday morning, leave our daily routines, and step onto a plane pointed north for a research trip. It is never easy leaving behind people and things you care about, even if only for a short time, but the thrill of learning more about a new place (at least new to us) was too enticing to pass up. So we stepped onto the plane between Chicago and Calgary and then from Calgary to Yellowknife.

The plane we took from Calgary to Yellowknife.
The plane we took from Calgary to Yellowknife.

Each leg of the journey I gained ground on my sleep deficit. According to Greg, there were numerous times that he walked by me on the flight and found me, mouth ajar, fast asleep at my seat. Thankfully for me, he doesn’t have any photo-evidence. I am not a heavy sleeper, but I am self-conscious of sleeping in public places. This feeling quickly evaporated when I remembered a line from one of my favorite books by Bill Bryson called “Australia – In a Sunburnt Country.” In this clip he describes the full-sensory experience that his body gives those unfortunate enough to be around him when he falls asleep. Since I know anyone (is there actually anyone?) reading this blog is curious how bad his condition can be, enjoy the passage below:

 

I am not, I regret to say, a discreet and fetching sleeper. Most people when they nod off look as if they could do with a blanket; I look as if I could do with medical attention. I sleep as if injected with a powerful experimental muscle relaxant. My legs fall open in a grotesque come-hither manner; my knuckles brush the floor. Whatever is inside—tongue, uvula, moist bubbles of intestinal air—decides to leak out. From time to time, like one of those nodding-duck toys, my head tips forward to empty a quart or so of viscous drool onto my lap, then falls back to begin loading again with a noise like a toilet cistern filling. And I snore, hugely and helplessly, like a cartoon character, with rubbery flapping lips and prolonged steam-valve exhalations. For long periods I grow un- naturally still, in a way that inclines onlookers to exchange glances and lean forward in concern, then dramatically I stiffen and, after a tantalizing pause, begin to bounce and jostle in a series of whole- body spasms of the sort that bring to mind an electric chair when the switch is thrown. Then I shriek once or twice in a piercing and effeminate manner and wake up to find that all motion within five hundred feet has stopped and all children under eight are clutching their mothers’ hems. It is a terrible burden to bear.

The flight to Yellowknife, a town of approximately 20,000 people, arrived at about six PM. After sending a few quick emails to family confirming that we survived the day’s travels, we began searching for a place to grab dinner. We quickly discovered that many places were closed, some because it was Sunday, but others because of an annual event called “Folks on the Rocks.” We walked for about two hours searching for open local restaurants, along the way stopping to take in the various landmarks around town. From the top of the lookout in the old section of Yellowknife we could see more of the daily life and happenings of Yellowknife.

A house in Yellowknife, surrounded by a thick cover of vegetation.
A house in Yellowknife, surrounded by a thick cover of vegetation.

It consists of many colorful homes of every shape and size nestled unimposingly amongst the many rocks and crevices around town. Many homes had three or more stories and twisted unsteadily into the sky similar to, I presume, the Weasley household from Harry Potter. On the water, houseboats sat quietly while the occasional float-plane touched down and small boats glided by.

One view from the top of the lookout point in the older part of Yellowknife.
One view from the top of the lookout point in the older part of Yellowknife.

The view from the lookout provided a more complete view of a town that we did not get to explore last year when we came to town. While we were taking this all in, our stomachs returned to their grumbling, apparently un-swayed by our newfound appreciation of this remote Canadian city.

Panorama from the top of the lookout point. The blue house in the middle of the picture reminded me of the Weasley's house!
Panorama from the top of the lookout point. The blue house in the middle of the picture reminded me of the Weasley’s house!

We set back on the trail to find food and eventually settled on the “Number one Vietnamese restaurant in Yellowknife.” We were not able to confirm whether the second Vietnamese restaurant we passed in town was still in business, but the sign and our growing hunger eventually led us back to this restaurant for dinner. We arrived fifteen minutes before close, but the owner graciously offered to serve us regardless. We quickly devoured our plates of stir-fry and returned to “The Explorer Hotel, perched solidly atop one of the few high-points in town. After grabbing a drink at the hotel’s bar, we retired for the day, anticipating the start of our remote research trip. In the words of Chris McCandless, “I now walk into the Wild.”

Day 8 – “The Shadow of the Past”

The morning started out similarly to most other mornings on the trip. We all woke up gradually and made our way into the common room to have breakfast. Cereal and toast – simple items and yet they never get old. We each pulled out our computers and worked as the morning progressed.

A male and female raven take shelter behind the Hamlet building out of the wind. They took a break from tending to their nest to preen their feathers in the sun. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A male and female raven take shelter behind the Hamlet building out of the wind. They took a break from tending to their nest to preen their feathers in the sun. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We still had two more full days in Kugluktuk after today, but even though we had explored most areas around town, we all wanted to get out and go for a hike.

A family takes a trip around town on their quad with a trailer. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A family takes a trip around town on their quad with a trailer. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

After another filling lunch, Rob made for the door. I did not want to miss my opportunity for a hike today, so I grabbed my bag and laced up my hiking boots. Greg decided to join us too. Matt stayed behind to watch the second half of the World Cup game.

A bird perches atop a 100+ foot cliff, ambivalent to the floor below. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A bird perches atop a 100+ foot cliff, ambivalent to the floor below. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We set out in hopes of finding the stromatolite we had found a couple days earlier. We first climbed the other hill that rises to the west of town. We descended on the opposite side of the hill and traversed across the soft tundra between the two exposed rock faces. A species of gull caught an updraft of wind and hovered confidently above our heads as we set food on the new rock cliff.

A species of sea gull catches an updraft from the edge of the cliffs. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A species of sea gull catches an updraft from the edge of the cliffs. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We wandered around the spot where we thought we had seen the stromatolite earlier this week, but we could not find it. In the distance I heard the distinctive call of a raven. On the valley floor below a raven was hopping carefully across the tundra.

Can you find the raven? This brazen bird was willing to put up with the mobbing behavior of a male and female bird for the chance at finding their nest. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Can you find the raven? This brazen bird was willing to put up with the mobbing behavior of a male and female bird for the chance at finding their nest. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Overhead, a medium-sized brown bird repeatedly mobbed the raven below. Mobbing is a behavior seen in birds to protect their nest, mate, or hatchlings. The interesting thing to me is that in each situation I have observed mobbing behavior, a smaller bird has been attacking a much larger bird. I am not sure if this is a consistent pattern with all bird species, but regardless I watched closely. From what I could tell the raven was searching carefully for something on the ground, possibly a nest. Eventually the raven gave up and flew off. The smaller bird did not leave the raven’s retreat to chance. Instead, it provided an escort off of its premises and occasionally moved in close and plucked a few feathers from the raven. Nature can be a rough place to live…

Researcher Greg Lehn takes in the view of Coronation Bay. On the horizon, ice still clogs the coastline. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researcher Greg Lehn takes in the view of Coronation Bay. On the horizon, ice still clogs the coastline. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. stops to search for more stromatolite fossils. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. stops to search for more stromatolite fossils. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We continued toward the edge of the town past the pump station where the Coppermine River flows into Coronation Bay. As we made our way down to the water level we passed various species of flowers that had recently appeared on the hillside.

Purple Mountain Saxifrage (Saxifraga oppositifolia) grows resiliently on a rock. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Purple Mountain Saxifrage (Saxifraga oppositifolia) grows resiliently on a rock. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Entire-Leaved Mountain Avens (Dryas integrifolia) burst into the sunlight. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Entire-Leaved Mountain Avens (Dryas integrifolia) burst into the sunlight. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

These small bursts of purple, yellow, and white were in stark opposition to the drab brown vegetation that served as their backdrop.

Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. improvises to climb this snowy face by punching in steps with his boots. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. improvises to climb this snowy face by punching in steps with his boots. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

As we neared the easternmost point of the Kugluktuk, we noticed a series of crosses on the other side of the river. This was Kugluktuk’s older cemetery that can no longer be used. The existence of the cemetery, just like the people living in town, is being threatened by a changing climate.

The old cemetery across the Coppermine River. It is threatened by the thawing of permafrost and eroding riverbanks encroaching on the graves. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The old cemetery across the Coppermine River. It is threatened by the thawing of permafrost and eroding riverbanks encroaching on the graves. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Years ago, the cooler weather each year kept the ground from thawing completely during the summer. In the Arctic, this is a big deal. Ice and permafrost help to hold the ground together to create a stable platform. It also minimizes erosion, which can claim large chunks of soil and land from the edge of a river. As the ground has thawed the bank has become more eroded each year. What is the result? Several graves are only a few feet from becoming uncovered. Although there has been a new cemetery started in more stable part of town, the thought that climate change has the potential to reach beyond the grave speaks to the unexpected consequences we have yet to witness from this global issue.

Researcher Greg Lehn walks along the shore of the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researcher Greg Lehn walks along the shore of the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

At the river’s edge the rocks had been smoothed dramatically compared to the same rocks higher up. All of the ice on the shore was gone. We trekked along the water’s edge back around to town. We spent the rest of the day inside, enjoying the seemingly endless supply of coffee. I went to bed early, looking forward to getting an early start in the morning.

Day 7 – “Buy-N-Large”

Willow bush buds emerge from the tips of each branch, hoping to reproduce successfully during the short growing season in the Arctic Circle. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Willow bush buds emerge from the tips of each branch, hoping to reproduce successfully during the short growing season in the Arctic Circle. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

I slept in a bit and woke up to a thick layer of fog outside my window. The temperature outside was a breezy 40 degrees Fahrenheit. I grabbed a quick breakfast and got to work. Lunch snuck up quickly and (predictably) it left me in a near food-coma like state. Over the past several days, we had wandered to many places around town. However, the one place I still wanted to explore was the beach. We all packed our bags after lunch and headed toward the beach for a hike.

Three flags fly outside of the Hamlet office in Kugluktuk. From the left, the Kugluktuk flag, the Canadian flag, and the Nunavut flag. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Three flags fly outside of the Hamlet office in Kugluktuk. From the left, the Kugluktuk flag, the Canadian flag, and the Nunavut flag. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researchers Greg Lehn and Rob Macdonald discuss the interesting geology of the region. The rock beneath them is metamorphic, but below that layer is a layer of sedimentary rock - a form of shale. This rare event is caused when rock that has been melted from heat and pressure below gets pushed through a gap in sedimentary rock to the surface where it flattens out. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researchers Greg Lehn and Rob Macdonald discuss the interesting geology of the region. The rock beneath them is metamorphic, but below that layer is a layer of sedimentary rock – a form of shale. This rare event is caused when rock that has been melted from heat and pressure below gets pushed through a gap in sedimentary rock to the surface where it flattens out. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

What I saw there made me consider this beautiful place through a different lens.

Candle ice breaks up along the shore as water drains into Coronation Bay from the tundra above. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Candle ice breaks up along the shore as water drains into Coronation Bay from the tundra above. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

When I was a sophomore at Saint Louis University, I took a course titled “Conservation Biology” with Dr. Tom Valone, Ph.D. In the first week of class, Dr. Valone mentioned a disturbing, but vital, assumption that is made in every situation regarding conservation biology.

The once drab beach is slowly waking from its winter slumber. These grasses and small plants mark the first beach-goers to stake out their spot on this town's sandy shores. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The once drab beach is slowly waking from its winter slumber. These grasses and small plants mark the first beach-goers to stake out their spot on this town’s sandy shores. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The primary assumption is that humans have impacted every ecosystem on the planet, and in order to manage an ecosystem, the human element or role in each system must be acknowledged. There are the obvious signs of this principle of human impact, such as a town constructed where a forest once grew or a commercial fishing ship that pulls in 100 tons of fish per year. This assumption might seem unimportant and obvious, but consider for a second what this means on a large scale.

A black trash bag sits quietly on the beach as the season's new plants begin to peak their stems out of their winter shelter. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A black trash bag sits quietly on the beach as the season’s new plants begin to peak their stems out of their winter shelter. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

If you decide to travel to the middle of the Amazon rainforest, the highest peak of Mount Everest, the continent of Antarctica, or the bottom of the ocean, a human impact, or footprint, is visible here too. Partially due to globalization and population growth, there is no longer any place on earth where we can actually say with certainty that the area is “untouched.”

Researchers Rob Macdonald and Greg Lehn walk on the edge of the shore, examining rocks and trash washed to the water's edge. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researchers Rob Macdonald and Greg Lehn walk on the edge of the shore, examining rocks and trash washed to the water’s edge. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

This is a sobering fact. Okay, I will be honest – it is simply depressing. As we walked onto the beach outside Kugluktuk, the lecture from Conservation Biology replayed in my mind as I was confronted with one example of the impact we have left – trash.

Trash of all shapes, sizes, colors and compositions could be found along the shoreline. Coke cans, grocery bags, Styrofoam cups, fishing line, potato chip bags, and plastic bottles were scattered everywhere. Even a canoe lay buried in the sand, forgotten by its previous owner.

A "Sik Sik," a type of ground squirrel, has adapted to city life in Kugluktuk. Similar to the beaches outside town, trash is a major issue in town that is evident in this Sik Sik's habitat. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A “Sik Sik,” a type of ground squirrel, has adapted to city life in Kugluktuk. Similar to the beaches outside town, trash is a major issue in town that is evident in this Sik Sik’s habitat. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The item that stood out to me most of all was a small green alien with three eyes. This extraterrestrial visitor had apparently been chosen by “The Claw” to spend its days floating around the ocean. The organism was actually a toy from the movie Toy Story and it was floating at the water’s edge.

This 3-eyed alien found his way onto an Arctic beach, just one sign of the trash floating in the ocean or discarded carelessly. (Photo credit: Amazon.com)
This 3-eyed alien found his way onto an Arctic beach, just one sign of the trash floating in the ocean or discarded carelessly. (Photo credit: Amazon.com)

Planet earth had not seen an alien creature like this before. In fact, in many ways all of the trash on the beach would have been considered alien not long ago. A century ago, humans had the potential to impact the planet on a global scale. However, the extent and magnitude of that impact has increased significantly from past to the present. The trash found on this remote beach in Kugluktuk is one example of how much larger our footprint on earth’s ecosystems has grown.

A shorebird bobs gently in the water. Many shorebird species have been known to consume and die from ingesting trash. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A shorebird bobs gently in the water. Many shorebird species have been known to consume and die from ingesting trash. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

As we walked along the shore, I found myself overwhelmed by the extent of the problem. Trash was everywhere, and there seemed to be no way to stop the flow of new trash. I believe that individual actions can have a large impact. When I saw so much trash in a place that I expected to be pristine, I shut down. I could not muster my normal response, which would be to do what I could to improve the situation – it all seemed too much. However, with any gargantuan task, it is important to remember that even small moves in the right direction can shift momentum. I decided to pick up ever piece of trash that was directly in front of me on the return trip. By the time we had returned to the main hill in town, I had an empty bleach bottle, a Cool Whip container, several plastic bags, and a chips bag – a small portion of the trash that I passed on the beach. This was enough to remind me that issues such as this can be fixed, if we all work to try to keep our own beaches clean. Most of us have seen the movie Wall-E. If you were like me, when you saw how the movie depicted the trash left by the humans before they left on ships, you probably thought, “That will never happen to us.” Although Wall-E exaggerated this concept (let’s hope…), the crux of the problem is still there. If we treat our planet like a garbage dump by throwing anything anywhere, then there will always be sunsets, hikes up mountains, and trips to the beach that will be changed because of the trash that interrupts our experience. If we cannot begin to clean up these places and prevent more trash from being deposited here, then the only thing we will be doing is throwing away our chance to experience nature as it was intended. We will always assume in conservation biology that all ecosystems are impacted by humanity – my hope is that the impact that we leave is a positive one.

A busy raven parent responds to the cries of his or her offspring. The newly-hatched chicks demand constant attention and care. I guess in the interest of being modern, these parents also wanted to offer their offspring cable TV... (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A busy raven parent responds to the cries of his or her offspring. The newly-hatched chicks demand constant attention and care. I guess in the interest of being modern, these parents also wanted to offer their offspring cable TV… (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Day 6 – “The Passage of the Marshes”

A view of Coronation Bay from Enokhuk Inn. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A view of Coronation Bay from Enokhuk Inn. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The amount of sunlight that seeped through the curtains as I woke up indicated that there was a bit of fog this morning. A glance out the window confirmed my suspicions. I rolled out of bed and completed my pushups and sit-ups for the day. Actually, I fell behind a few days ago, so I did twice as many today to start to make up lost ground. It has become a necessity to incorporate this into my morning routines up here. It is not common for people to go on runs around here, partially due to the ever-present risk of running into a bear or other large mammal. Although I would love to see a bear at some point on this trip (at a safe distance), I would prefer not to see one when I am a mile outside of town by myself with no defense except the blindingly reflective qualities of my Irish skin. As a result I have taken to doing these minor workouts to hold off accumulating too many pounds from all of the delicious meals provided to us by Nadene and Johnny. I have never left a meal hungry that’s for sure. When I first signed on to come to the Arctic I thought meals would consist of Ramen noodles and bread! I could not have been further from the truth.

A raven surveys its domain, while setting its wing tips alight with the sun's rays. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A raven surveys its domain, while setting its wing tips alight with the sun’s rays. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The community aspect of this project is part of what makes it so great. In each city we visit, Matt has established a relationship with the local Hunters and Trappers Organization (HTO) and individuals at each location have offered to assist us with our work. These relationships are critical to the success of this project – without local help and knowledge we would limp along each step of the way. The HTO of Kugluktuk assists in many other scientific research studies to help understand their ecosystem. They have participated in shorebird studies, caribou tracking, fish population monitoring, and much more. Jorgan and Christian, our two local research assistants, are prime examples of this commitment from the community to continue adapting their knowledge base for the organisms and environments they interact with on a daily basis.

The Broad-Leaved Willow Herb has started to grow through the thick mat of dead plants left from the last growing season. Although only a few inches tall, these flowers are the harbinger of summer, providing bursts of color amongst the drab colors left from winter. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The Broad-Leaved Willow Herb has started to grow through the thick mat of dead plants left from the last growing season. Although only a few inches tall, these flowers are the harbinger of summer, providing bursts of color amongst the drab colors left from winter. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Today Greg and Matt headed down to meet Christian and Jorgan at the Kugluktuk HTO to teach them how to collect the water samples. While they went to do that, Rob and I stayed behind at Enohkuk Inn to hold down the fort.

The first plane to land at Kugluktuk Airport in several days arrives. Heavy fog has prevented necessary groceries and other materials from arriving in this remote town. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The first plane to land at Kugluktuk Airport in several days arrives. Heavy fog has prevented necessary groceries and other materials from arriving in this remote town. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

One of the great aspects of this trip has been the ability to catch up on several things that I have not had the opportunity to work on since last summer. I grabbed a cup of coffee and got to work. We worked through lunch and chatted with Johnny and Nadene. Greg and Matt did not get back from collecting samples until about 3:00 PM, but when they had settled in we checked to see if they were interested in going for a hike. Greg agreed, so we packed out bags and donned our boots.

Roy, a resident of the small town of Kugluktuk, brings by a carving he made of two narwhals made out of soapstone. He has been carving for the past 30 years. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Roy, a resident of the small town of Kugluktuk, brings by a carving he made of two narwhals made out of soapstone. He has been carving for the past 30 years. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The hike started out on the high ground to the south of town. We traipsed around the rocks and bluffs overlooking the river. We stumbled upon a stromatolite, which is an ancient life form that is presumed to be one of the first organisms to produce oxygen gas (O2) on a large scale.

A stromatolite sits atop the bluffs overlooking the Coppermine River. A stromatolite is a type of organism that lived millions of years ago in the ocean before it ended up here. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A stromatolite sits atop the bluffs overlooking the Coppermine River. A stromatolite is a type of organism that lived millions of years ago in the ocean before it ended up here. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The presence of stromatolites in oceans around the planet dramatically changed the composition of earth’s atmosphere.

The view from the top of the bluffs overlooking the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The view from the top of the bluffs overlooking the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

How did it end up on a cliff in northern Canada? Two of the usual suspects of global rearrangement, continental drift and glaciation, most likely deposited this ancient organism at its current location.

Researchers Greg Lehn and Rob Macdonald look out at the delta of the Coppermine River from the bluffs above. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Researchers Greg Lehn and Rob Macdonald look out at the delta of the Coppermine River from the bluffs above. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We explored the bluffs and eventually found ourselves on a four-wheeler track (“quad” as they are referred to in Canada) that lead into the lowlands toward the river.

Plants in the tundra begin to produce oxygen gas (O2) as the summer season kicks into full swing. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Plants in the tundra begin to produce oxygen gas (O2) as the summer season kicks into full swing. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The ground squished and slurped every step we took. It had an uneasiness about it that made me wonder what our steps did to the soil as we carefully made our way across the delta, or floodplain, of the river.

The trail through the soggy tundra. Much of this trail was either submerged in water or the soil was completely saturated. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The trail through the soggy tundra. Much of this trail was either submerged in water or the soil was completely saturated. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Greg described the soil here as walking on a wet mattress. With every step the ground shifted as though on springs. Water seeped into every footprint.

The valley floor extends into the distance. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The valley floor extends into the distance. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The delta of the river was saturated with water. I quickly regretted not wearing my rubber boots. We sloshed along further. Several times, I reached sections of the trail where water lapped at the rim of my boots, waiting to flow over at any moment if given the opportunity. We reached a creek that was too wide to cross and turned around. The hills gracefully rose to our left again as we proceeded back toward town.

The rim surrounding the delta (floodplain) of the river separates the slightly drier tundra above from the extremely saturated land below. Walking on the delta is comparable to walking on a waterbed. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The rim surrounding the delta (floodplain) of the river separates the slightly drier tundra above from the extremely saturated land below. Walking on the delta is comparable to walking on a waterbed. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

This was my first experience with arctic tundra, and more specifically arctic tundra that was no longer frozen. As the project progresses I presume this will become much more commonplace as the ground continues to warm and thaw for summer.

Fog moved in as we sat down to dinner, which prevented any further exploration.

The town of Kugluktuk at its darkest moment during the summer. The sun never completely sets this far north! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The town of Kugluktuk at its darkest moment during the summer. The sun never completely sets this far north! (Photo credit: John Kelly)

I caught up on a bit of work and sat in the common room of Enokhuk Inn with a cup of coffee in hand until late in the evening. The side of me that is always on the go wanted to be out in the field again. On the flip side, there was something special about the peace and quiet that can be found up here if one is willing to listen. It is easy to find noise in many places these days, but it can be much more difficult to find quiet. I closed my computer and finished my cup of coffee while the sun drifted close to the horizon behind the sheet of fog.

The view of the sunset from Enokhuk Inn. The clouds on the horizon present the closest thing to the actual horizon during the summer months where the sun never completely sets in the Arctic. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The view of the sunset from Enokhuk Inn. The clouds on the horizon present the closest thing to the actual horizon during the summer months where the sun never completely sets in the Arctic. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Day 5 – “It’s a boat time…”

First off, in order for the title to work, you have to say it in your best (or worst) Canadian accent. Now that I’ve covered the ground rules, here is my blog post for the day!

The morning started off with a peek through the window in my room. Fog clouded my view of the bay below – we would have to wait for this to clear before we could take the boat up river. I packed my bag for the day and went out to breakfast to discuss the plan. As I munched on Cheerios and toast, the sun started to burn through the fog. By 9:00 AM the fog had almost completely lifted. We organized the research coolers for the day and packed up the van. One last check of necessary materials: bear spray – check, pocketknife – check, water – check, satellite phone – check. By 9:45 we were on the road down to the Hunters and Trappers Organization (HTO) to meet Barb and our boat driver for the day, David.

As we pulled up several men were bringing their morning’s catch to Barb and David. In each bag was an arctic char measuring between 24-44 inches. The HTO prepares and freezes the meat and will distribute the food to the community to help those people who do not have enough to eat. There is a strong network of support in the town of Kugluktuk, and we have noticed this in the short time we have been on the ground here. For instance, when we mentioned to Barb that we would like to have a boat to take samples up river, she called David who was willing to give up several hours of his day to help us with our project. Each step along the way, members of Kugluktuk have made us feel welcome despite having wandered far from home.

The water line from just a few days earlier is visible on the side of the hill. The water level was almost ten feet above its current height. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The water line from just a few days earlier is visible on the side of the hill. The water level was almost ten feet above its current height. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We grabbed our life jackets, donned our waterproof raincoats and pants, and took off for the shore to meet David at his boat. One thought kept coming to mind as we neared the frigid water of Coronation Bay – “one minute to control your breathing, ten minutes to use your muscles, one hour before you lose consciousness.” This past spring break, while individuals flocked south to find warm, sandy beaches, Greg and I went to the Pacific Northwest, to the University of Washington, for several classes to prepare for this summer. We were taught about small boat safety, bear safety, emergency preparedness, and small river crossings. Along with Matt Alkire, we learned to always wear life jackets on the water (of course…), to tell others where you are going, stay calm in emergencies, and many other life-saving bits of information. Perhaps most useful and impressive was the section on hypothermia. In the event that one of us were to fall into water in the Arctic, it is important to remember how much time you have to do several important things – “one minute to control your breathing, ten minutes to use your muscles, one hour before you lose consciousness.” This sequence of events was brought home by Dr. Gordon Giesbrecht in this video. He staged a scenario where he fell through the ice on a frozen lake. He talked through each of the steps in the moment, while he is experiencing the symptoms from his predicament. He emphasized that the goal of the video is to save lives. The lines run through my head once more as we pull up to the boat – “one minute to control your breathing, ten minutes to use your muscles, one hour before you lose consciousness.” Okay, maybe I’ll just focus on not falling in…

Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. sits at the bow of the boat as we make our way up the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Dr. Rob Macdonald, Ph.D. sits at the bow of the boat as we make our way up the Coppermine River. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We tossed our gear into David’s boat and strapped on our life jackets. With a nudge from a man onshore we floated free and started heading up the shoreline toward the mouth of the river. A light fog wisped around us and the icy air just above the water revealed any exposed skin. David guided the boat skillfully, avoiding low points and other objects in the river, including chunks of ice.

Layers of sedimentary rock formed as silt and other river sediments were deposited at the mouth of the river long ago. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Layers of sedimentary rock formed as silt and other river sediments were deposited at the mouth of the river long ago. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The hills on either side of the river rose sharply, exposing layers of sedimentary rock, deposited long ago as sediment fell out of the river and settled on the river bottom near the mouth. We stopped about a mile upstream where the channel narrowed. In order to get a better profile of the river, we decided to collect three measurements, one on either side and one in the middle. We pulled over to the shore and hopped out into the mud.

The first site along the Coppermine River. Slowly, we work out the kinks in how we are collecting water samples. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)
The first site along the Coppermine River. Slowly, we work out the kinks in how we are collecting water samples. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)

The shore was muddy, despite being covered in vegetation. Only a few days ago, the water level was several meters higher from the pulse of ice and freshwater flowing downstream due to the river breaking up. We grabbed our gear and slogged to a place on the shore not covered by mud to start sampling.

The group works diligently as David, our boat driver, observes the collection process. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The group works diligently as David, our boat driver, observes the collection process. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Greg and Matt reviewed how they wanted the samples collected and re-emphasized the importance of preventing contamination.

Researcher Matt Alkire uses a telescoping pole to collect water from the river. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)
Researcher Matt Alkire uses a telescoping pole to collect water from the river. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)

It was pivotal to keep any dirt, sand, mud, hair, and other objects out of the water once it has been pulled from the river.

Water sampling requires teamwork and coordination. Gloves are also necessary to make sure we do not contaminate the samples. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)
Water sampling requires teamwork and coordination. Gloves are also necessary to make sure we do not contaminate the samples. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)

In order to collect several liters of water ‘quickly’ we used something called a peristaltic pump. Despite the complicated name, it operates in a similar way to how we swallow food. Tubing runs through the middle of a drill-operated pump that squeezes water through the tubing and into our bottles. It took us almost an hour to fill all of the bottles for the first site, partially due to some complications with the pump. After we completed these measurements we lugged our equipment back to the boat and set off for the middle of the river.

Researcher Greg Lehn fills a bottle for sampling. Slowly, we perfect our technique. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)
Researcher Greg Lehn fills a bottle for sampling. Slowly, we perfect our technique. (Photo credit: Rob Macdonald)

The river measured approximately 200 meters across at this narrow point. We set anchor in the swift current and began taking samples.

The purpose of this study is to obtain a chemical fingerprint that can be used to determine where the water from this river (and the six others we are measuring) goes once it enters the Arctic Ocean. The interaction between freshwater and saltwater is interesting and complex. In most cases freshwater is less dense than seawater. Due to its density, freshwater behaves in a similar way to oil that sits “on top” of water. The subtle differences in density are enough to prevent water from deep down to circulate to the surface in the Arctic Ocean. This property (which is a simplification of the overall process, but I don’t want to bore you with all the details here) is what allows ice to form in the Arctic Circle. Similar to salt being thrown on the road and sidewalks during winter, saltwater in the Arctic Ocean freezes at much lower temperatures than freshwater. This project will provide the first set of measurements from small Canadian Arctic rivers in the hopes of seeing how much freshwater they contribute to this cycle and where this water goes. Still with me? If I set you adrift somewhere, I’ll toss you a rope and pull you back into the boat with us!

We finished collecting samples in the middle and far side of the river. After sitting in the boat for almost three hours, my hands were nearly frozen despite being bathed in sunlight all morning. The temperature was still a chilly 5 degrees Celsius (41 degrees Fahrenheit) and windy. We finally pushed the boat off from the shore and sped off downstream. The wind had picked up since we left, which made the ride back much choppier. A few large chunks of “candle ice” melted on the shoreline, unable to resist the pressing waves of summer.

A large chunk of ice falls into the river. This ice used to be at the level of the river, but is starting to slough off as the water level has dropped and the temperature has risen. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A large chunk of ice falls into the river. This ice used to be at the level of the river, but is starting to slough off as the water level has dropped and the temperature has risen. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

By tomorrow these chunks of ice will be gone. We returned to the beach and unloaded the boat. We thanked David, our captain, and he pushed off into the Bay to begin checking nets again for more Arctic Char.

We drove back to the Inn and brought our gear inside. My stomach was growling having missed lunch, so I decided to wander to the Co-Op store for a snack. You know how they say never shop when you are hungry? Well that point becomes even more apparent when the items you would normally purchase as snacks are two or three times more expensive. I bought a bag of chips, gummy worms, and a few bananas and spent $20.00. My wallet winced a bit as I put the receipt inside, but alas my stomach’s grumbles won out. I walked back to the Inn munching on my snacks, occasionally stopping to talk to people who were selling some amazing, hand-carved trinkets. I mentioned that I would be interested in a carving of a whale or bear, but did not want to buy anything today. Roy, the man who was showing me his carving, nodded and said he would see what he could do. This would not be the last time I would hear from Roy.

Dinner was another delicious meal provided by Johnny and Nadene. We all left the table thoroughly stuffed. For the second time in two days a thunderstorm moved over the town of Kugluktuk. Lots of lightning was accompanied by heavy rainfall.

Rain moves in on Kugluktuk for the second day in a row. Storms like this are extremely atypical and unseasonal. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Rain moves in on Kugluktuk for the second day in a row. Storms like this are extremely atypical and unseasonal. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

This storm hovered over the town all night long. With nowhere we needed to be after dinner, I sat on the porch of the Inn and watched the storm roll by. Two unseasonal storms in two days. Today’s sample collection was a success – the first trial for a three-year study. Tomorrow we plan to show Jorgan and Christian, both 19 years old, how to collect the samples. They will have a part to play in helping their town, Kugluktuk, understand how their Coppermine River contributes to the Arctic freshwater input. The fact that they are enthusiastic about the opportunity shows human nature’s ability to take on challenges with unknown results. That individuals are trying to redefine their community given new circumstances gives me hope.

Day 4 – “A storm is coming”

Today we woke up early, grabbed some breakfast, and set off into the field in search of a good sampling location. On the east side of town is a road that extends toward the Coppermine River and the town’s pump house. The goal for the day was to find a location where we could easily collect water samples that were representative of the geochemistry of the entire river. Geochemistry combines chemistry and geology to better understand the major mechanisms that direct geological systems.

The delta of the Coppermine Rver as it empties into Coronation Bay. A large sandbar has formed to the side of the main channel from millions of years of erosion and deposition. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The delta of the Coppermine Rver as it empties into Coronation Bay. A large sandbar has formed to the side of the main channel from millions of years of erosion and deposition. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Despite the pump house being easy to access, we decided to walk on in search of a better location. To our left the hill descended quickly to the valley floor. The river widened as it flowed into the bay. Tiny purple flowers and willow bushes began to open their petals and leaves to the sunlight. We ascended the red-rock hill in front of us and the view of the valley floor opened up below. A large sandbar extended from the bottom of the cliff toward the river. No easy path presented itself through the marsh so we decided to head back to town and await our meeting with the HTO Board of Directors.

We arrived at the Hunter and Trapper Organization (HTO) headquarters and sat down in their boardroom for our meeting. Barb made a pot of coffee for us in the background as individuals from Kugluktuk started to arrive. Several people showed up to our meeting – two men, Christian and Jorgan, who will collect the water samples, Fredd and Kevin volunteered as our wildlife monitors, and David was the head of the board. After introductions, Matt Alkire began to describe the project to the group.

The group had many questions for us. Why did we want water samples from the Coppermine River? What effect might this study have on the local community? How did we envision the HTO helping with this project?

Matt, Greg, Rob and I responded to each of the group’s questions and this appeared to put them at ease and they seemed excited for the project too. We also had many questions for the board. The people of Kugluktuk have observed many changes in their town with the weather, climate, and timing of events. These anecdotal changes provide a picture of an ecosystem that is rapidly changing and unpredictable. They emphasized that it is very important to them to see the Coppermine River protected and they want to better understand the changes occurring in Kugluktuk.

We settled on a plan to meet tomorrow and take a boat up-river to find a nice sampling site that Christian and Jorgan will be able to access for the remainder of the summer. The group went outside and we started to prepare a boat for the trip. While we checked over the engine there was a part that was disconnected and laying underneath the engine block. With any luck this is not an important part – regardless we will find out soon…. After the boat was ready for the morning we headed back to the Inn.

Before dinner we decided to go check out the Co-Op, a grocery store/hardware store with many other general items. I had been forewarned that certain foods can be much more expensive in the Nunavut, but I was humorously surprised by what I discovered. Are you hungry for some milk and cookies? That will be $16.00 (Chips Ahoy = $9.99 and 1 Qt Milk = $6.00).

The cost of feeding an addiction to sweets is much greater in the Arctic. Your eyes are not lying to you - the cost of Chips Ahoy cookies is actually $9.99. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The cost of feeding an addiction to sweets is much greater in the Arctic. Your eyes are not lying to you – the cost of Chips Ahoy cookies is actually $9.99. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

How about a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos and a 12-pack of soda? That will only cost you about $32.00 ($7.99 for Doritos and $24.00 for the soda). I quickly slimmed down what items I wanted to only items that I “needed” – you know, items such as bananas, Snyders pretzels, and some candy worms. This only set me back $14.00 – not too bad in my opinion. I walked back to the Inn munching happily on my snacks. Over the hill behind the Inn the sky started to grow dark.

The sky to the southwest begins to churn as a thunderstorm builds on the horizon. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The sky to the southwest begins to churn as a thunderstorm builds on the horizon. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

As we walked closer there was a flash of lightning in the distance. Kids continued to climb un-phased on the rocks on the west side of town. According to the owners of the Inn and everyone at the HTO, it is extremely rare to have a thunderstorm in June.

The darkened sky of the thunderstorm presents the closest thing to 'night' in Kugluktuk. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The darkened sky of the thunderstorm presents the closest thing to ‘night’ in Kugluktuk. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

We waited out and began taking pictures of the incoming cloud cover. The sky turned a mild shade of gray and green and continued to roll toward town from the southwest. Just before dinner the storm was on top of the Inn dumping buckets of rain. The temperature outside dropped and hovered around 40 degrees Fahrenheit. Nadene explained that the past couple of years there have been one or two storms like this earlier in summer, but that this phenomenon is recent and often unpredicted.

The front of the storm rolls over town. According to locals, storms like this have become more frequent in the past several years. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The front of the storm rolls over town. According to locals, storms like this have become more frequent in the past several years. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Many elders in Kugluktuk do not recall ever having to worry about a thunderstorm in the summer growing up. It is unclear what factors are leading to these changes in weather patterns; however, climate change is predicted to cause more-frequent storms and significant weather events in the future. This could become the new normal for Kugluktuk.

The storm passed overhead and faded into the distance. By this time it was almost 8:00 pm, but with twenty-four hours of daylight I decided to go outside to take some pictures. I climbed to the top of the hill overlooking the town.

Coronation Bay and the many islands surrounded by ice. The thunderstorm moves north on the horizon (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Coronation Bay and the many islands surrounded by ice. The thunderstorm moves north on the horizon (Photo credit: John Kelly)

To the north the storm was quietly sending rain down on the bay. Large sheets of ice still covered most of the bay. Pools of water collected over the smooth, red metamorphic rock that forms the hill west of town.

Coronation Bay from the hill west of town after the thunderstorm. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Coronation Bay from the hill west of town after the thunderstorm. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Dispersed around the rocks are layers plants and organic matter that have accumulated in this harsh environment over many years. Adults and children on four-wheelers (they are called ‘quads’ in Kugluktuk) cruise around town un-phased by the recent abnormal weather. A rugged dog stands firm at his post.

A local dog losing its winter coat. I personally think it must be part musk ox. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
A local dog losing its winter coat. I personally think it must be part musk ox. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

In the Bay fishermen checked their nets for Arctic Char.

Fishermen return to the frigid water after the storm to check their nets. Arctic char is one of the main species captured in the Bay. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Fishermen return to the frigid water after the storm to check their nets. Arctic char is one of the main species captured in the Bay. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

This project has the opportunity to fill in significant gaps in scientific knowledge about the Arctic Ocean and the contributions of small Canadian rivers to the overall volume of freshwater entering the Arctic Circle. The data for climate change has spoken – the earth is warming and our actions have directly contributed to this increase. We are still discovering the extent of these changes and their effects on ecosystems. The remaining ice in Coronation Bay continued to float under the unseasonal storm on the horizon, oblivious to the changes occurring around it. One thing is clear to me – this project and others that are searching to understand these changes cannot happen fast enough.

Day 3 – “I now walk (ok so I flew…) into the wild.”

I opened the curtain of the hotel room and light flooded inside. Greg Lehn and I packed up and went downstairs for an early breakfast before our flight out at 10 AM. The town of Yellowknife (population 19,000) is the capital city and largest community of Canada’s Northwest Territory. Despite its seclusion from most of North America, Yellowknife has many so-called common amenities, and this hotel was no exception. I had access to internet, a running shower (with hot water I might add…), and the meals were substantial – not exactly what I expected after three flights and almost 1900 miles from home. Yellowknife is famous partially for the kimberlite pipes that produced diamonds in the area. This mining town might be remote, but it had all of the signs of your everyday city. We ate our breakfast buffet, packed up, and headed to the Yellowknife Airport. As we arrived at the airport a line from Jon Krakauer’s Into the Wild crossed my mind:

“I now walk into the wild.”

~Chris McCandless

The plane between Yellowknife and Kugluktuk. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The plane between Yellowknife and Kugluktuk. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The plane had sixteen seats and was filled in the middle with cargo bound for Kugluktuk and Cambridge Bay. We boarded the twin-propped plane and pointed north.

The view from the plane as we left Yellowknife. The area is starting to warm to the north. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The view from the plane as we left Yellowknife. The area is starting to warm to the north. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The ground below was speckled with small lakes extending to the horizon. As we travelled north the lakes became covered in ice.

The view from the plane as we get closer to Kugluktuk. These lakes are still covered in ice while the lakes to the south have already thawed for the season. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The view from the plane as we get closer to Kugluktuk. These lakes are still covered in ice while the lakes to the south have already thawed for the season. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

The ice was filled with holes and cracks, indicating the summer melt had begun.

Reading the newspaper on the plane - the principles of sustainability span across the globe! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Reading the newspaper on the plane – the principles of sustainability span across the globe! (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Two hours after our wheels left the ground the plane touched down on the gravel runway outside Kugluktuk.

The terminal at Kugluktuk Airport. On any given day there are between one and three flights! (Photo credit: John Kelly)
The terminal at Kugluktuk Airport. On any given day there are between one and three flights! (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Johnny from Enokhok Inn was waiting at the airport to bring our gear and us back to the Inn. We loaded our equipment and bags into his truck and made the short trek down a gravel road toward town. After we checked into our rooms, we took off to pick up a rental car to help us transport gear for the next week while we’re in town. Next we made our way to the local Hunter and Trapper Association (HTO) to meet with Barbara and discuss our plan for collecting samples on the Coppermine River.

Barb and the HTO will assist us for the duration of the project that is based in Kugluktuk. We agreed to explain the project to the board members for the HTO the following day at 3 PM. We headed back to Enokhok Inn and got organized for the day. Greg and I organized the sampling packages that we will leave in Kugluktuk so water samples can be taken throughout the summer after we leave. This will provide a more complete picture of the chemistry of the river throughout the summer melt season. After completing this, our legs were itching to go for a hike, so we headed out toward the hill that overlooks the west side of town.

Panoramic shot of Coronation Bay and Kugluktuk from the hill west of town. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Panoramic shot of Coronation Bay and Kugluktuk from the hill west of town. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Despite being very close to the hill, it took a little time to find a suitable path for the hike. Several of our first attempts were met with curious dogs, which we decided to avoid due to their over-the-top enthusiasm to see us (…lots of barking). We trekked to the to top of the hill and turned around to check out the town below.

Willow bush pushing through a crack in rock. The red tubes are the pistil of the flower and the white, hair-like threads are the stamens. (Photo credit: John Kelly)
Willow bush pushing through a crack in rock. The red tubes are the pistil of the flower and the white, hair-like threads are the stamens. (Photo credit: John Kelly)

Kugluktuk is a town of about 1,450 people nestled between low-lying hills and the Coppermine River. It is the westernmost community of the Nunuvat. The word ‘Kugluktuk’ means ‘place of moving water.’ The root for this name, ‘kugluk,’ means ‘waterfall.’ To the north lies Coronation Bay at the mouth of the Coppermine River.

Across the bay, small snow covered islands rise out of the ice that still blankets the warming water below. Between yesterday and today ice from the river finally began to break up and flow into the bay. For this brief period, the flow of the river increases and it is dangerous to be out on the water due to the chunks of ice and the strength of the current. However, by the time of the hike the fireworks were over and the river glided along calmly.

Next we walked down to Coronation Bay. We talked to a man and his wife who had both graduated from Kugluktuk High School and recently had their first baby girl. The high school and the Kugluktuk Elementary School sit proudly on a hill up the road from the bay.

Kugluktuk Elementary School, which teaches kindergarten through sixth grade.
Kugluktuk Elementary School, which teaches kindergarten through sixth grade.
Kugluktuk High School, which serves approximately 160 students grades seven to twelve.
Kugluktuk High School, which serves approximately 160 students grades seven to twelve.
School crosswalk for Kugluktuk Elementary School, the same as the crosswalks 2200 miles away back in St. Louis. Traffic includes trucks, quads, and bikes and the school year extends from August through June.
School crosswalk for Kugluktuk Elementary School, the same as the crosswalks 2200 miles away back in St. Louis. Traffic includes trucks, quads, and bikes and the school year extends from August through June.

A large metal fish swims on the side of the high school – a symbol of the arctic char that can be captured in the bay. On the road we pass a man named Roy who offers to sell us a carving of a man ice fishing that he made himself. We talked to him for a minute, but we walked on without purchasing anything. We returned to Enokhok Inn for the night. As I fell asleep close to midnight the sun was still sneaking around the gaps in the curtains. To think a place can be totally light outside in the middle of the night – I felt very enlightened…

Day 2 – “The Walking in Between”

Woke up early this morning and arrived at the airport by 7:30 am. The lines for checking bags were sprawling and motionless. Greg Lehn and I each chose a line and crossed our fingers. After almost half an hour in line we began preparing our bags and coolers of field equipment to be sent to Canada. My backpack had to shed a few pounds before it could join the rest of the field gear. Thankfully with some minor readjustments and generosity of the guy behind the counter, my bag was pulled through and tossed on the conveyor belt.

We arrived in Edmonton and were faced with our first checkpoint at Canadian Customs. Greg and I each had our own set of research supplies that we had to bring safely through customs. The customs official that called me to the counter seemed mildly suspicious of our project, despite the fact that all we are doing is collecting water samples. Several times she asked for specifics about the project including whether any Canadian universities were also involved. After a few more carefully chosen questions and equally intentional responses, I was allowed to pass through customs to pick up my bags. I grabbed my backpack and cooler off of the conveyor belt and headed upstairs to re-check our bags for our flight to Yellowknife.

The view of Yellowknife from the Explorer Hotel at midnight. As you can probably tell, the sun does not set this far north in the summer.
The view of Yellowknife from the Explorer Hotel at midnight. As you can probably tell, the sun does not set this far north in the summer.

Our flight to Yellowknife did not leave until 7:45 pm, so we got to spend most of the afternoon working and eating in the Edmonton airport. As the day progressed the airport filled with people. The terminal had green-inspired architecture, lighting, and even flaunted a few “green walls” covered in tropical plants. After several discussions about the project, politics, and humorous Internet videos, we grabbed a snack for the air and headed to the gate for the last stage today’s journey. Tomorrow we fly from Yellowknife to Kugluktuk as long as the weather cooperates. Cross our fingers for clear skies!

p.s. The title for this post came from the Ben Rector’s new album “The Walking in Between.” You should check him out!.