Most of us had never boarded a ship by helicopter before. Yet, there we were, bundled against the wind, awaiting our brief flight to the deck of the Louis.
The vessel’s departing visitors – scientists from the South – whom we were about to replace on board – were waiting at the Kugluktuk airstrip when we arrived. Their boxes of samples, emblazoned with stickers from Trent and Cape Breton Universities, were ready on the tarmac for the journey home. Their owners seemed to glow, if perhaps somewhat wearily, from the experience that had just ended.
That will be us, in five not-so-short days – the sun dips below the horizon after 10 p.m. up here, above the Arctic Circle, at this time of year – when the Louis reaches Resolute.
The Louis’ on-board helicopter met us at the airstrip and ferried us across Coronation Bay to the ship. Four at a time, we squeezed into the aircraft and promptly pressed our noses – and cameras – to the glass.
The tundra fell beneath and behind us as the chopper took off across the Arctic waves, racing towards the ship.
It is tough to overstate Nunavut’s beauty. These are the barrens; the entire territory sits above the tree line, where the landscape cuts sharply across the horizon to mark the border between land and sea and sky. The air feels richer—it certainly seems cleaner—than in the southern cities that most of us call home. Nowhere in Canada is more bracing, nor more breathtaking.
By mid-afternoon on Monday, we had a view of Nunavut that is reserved for only a few Canadians. From aboard the Louis, the hamlet of Kugluktuk seemed to cling to the coastline, with the whole of continental North America in its hinterland. From our quarters on board, we need only look out the window to see the deep blue-green waves of the Arctic Ocean—a constant remember of where we are, and the immense privilege that our presence here entails.
Captain Marc Rothwell and the officers and crew of the Louis have been unfailingly hospitable; they seem determined to make us feel at home in a strikingly unfamiliar place. We reciprocated by providing them with some light entertainment, as we struggled to squeeze ourselves into full-body survival suits during our safety briefing on Monday evening. As the mates showed us how to secure our lifejackets and outlined the ship’s evacuation procedures, it was impossible not to appreciate the strong undercurrent of risk that laces every aspect of the Coast Guard’s work in this, Canada’s most extreme environment. If, heaven forbid, another vessel finds itself in distress this week, the men and women of the Louis will find and follow them through danger.
Those of us who have the honour of sharing their company can only think of their work with awe.
And so, with Kugluktuk in our wake, Captain Rothwell has set our course for Resolute. Our adventure has only just begun.