“I am a part of everything—the grass‚ the tundra‚ birds in the sky‚ especially my ice whale in the sea.”
Emily Toozak sang a song and gathered green edible plants while the goose cooked. When she thought the stones were cool‚ she uncovered the food. She tore off a goose leg and bit into it. It was delicious. She feasted on goose and fish until she was full. With it she ate some scurvy grass leaves and drank from the fresh cool water from the creek.
“I’m doing good‚ Siku‚” she said as a misty wind caressed her face. She touched her cheek again.
The sun was in the sky day and night‚ so Emily Toozak slept when the animals slept—noon and midnight. As she lay down to sleep one noon‚ she thought about the workday the white men had brought to the Arctic. It was a strict hourly schedule from 9:00 A.M. to 5:00 P.M. in spite of the Arctic’s two-month-long day and two-month-long night each year.
Out here‚ she was following the rhythm of her world.
Emily Toozak was refreshed when she awoke. She got quickly to her feet‚ packed her goose‚ fish‚ and treasures‚ and got back in the kayak. She paddled around ponds‚ creeks‚ past fox dens‚ scared the ground squirrels along the banks‚ and listened to Arctic loons call. She felt a part of them all.
She needed to make sure that she was heading west‚ so she watched the sun and remembered the wind almost always blew from the east. The sun and wind were her compass.
Finally the creek opened up into another bay. Walking up the beach‚ she came upon the gigantic bones of a bowhead whale that had washed up long ago. She ran to them. Whale bones were everywhere‚ old ones like the ones from which her people sculpted art and made tools. She wandered among them‚ stepping over huge jawbones and plunking herself down on vertebrae as big as tussocks. The whale ribs‚ she realized‚ could make frames for shelters.
“Siku‚” she said‚ “what big bones you have!” She laughed‚ ate more of her goose‚ drank some water‚ and napped. It was a sunny‚ calm midnight.
When she nodded awake‚ she was aware that the winds had changed. Clouds were blowing in from the Chukchi Sea.
That could mean trouble‚ she worried.
Hurriedly she rolled several large vertebrae high on the beach close to the tundra grasses and placed them in a circle. She covered them with the big broad whale shoulder blades to make a roof. All the bones were heavy‚ but she worked hard.
Emily Toozak was still working on her whale-bone house when the first snowflakes arrived. She dug a hollow in the pebbles inside and lined it with the remains of her blanket.
Making sure her house was strong‚ she went outside and pushed against it with the force she supposed the wind might have. She had hardly tested it when loping out of the waves came a seal pup. He walked up to her on flippers and stomach crying real tears. She picked him up and held him close.
“Natchiayaaq‚” she said‚ “where is your mother? A storm is coming.”
The baby seal looked at her. Hugging him close‚ she crawled back into her house and sat down with him in her arms. When he stopped wiggling‚ she fed him some goose breast. He gobbled it up.
“My hot-water bottle‚” she said when she realized how warm the seal was. “I am going to need you.” She tucked him into her parka.
The wind struck. The massive bones held.
For three days the storm raged. Food and water ran out at the end of the third day. The pup became restless. He cried in a mother-calling voice.
“Maybe he knows his mother is near‚ Siku‚” she said. “I feel you want me to set him free.”
The door‚ however‚ was crusted with ice and snow. She kicked it hard to clear it off. When it fell open‚ there was the sun‚ white gold and beautiful. Reluctantly she put her “hot-water bottle” on the pebbles. Natchiayaaq was free. He loped off toward the water.
“Natchiayaaq‚ don’t leave yet.” But he was gone.
Two heads swam off through the waves‚ a big one and a little one. She smiled.
Emily Toozak gathered her things‚ tied on her pack and walked to the tundra.
Along the beach ran a bluff. Emily Toozak climbed it to have a look around and saw a caribou standing apart from a small herd nearby. She ducked down; she was afraid the caribou would run when he saw her.
She dropped to her knees and crept toward him. When she was nearer she could see that he was limping. His head was low. He couldn’t run. Should she wait until he stumbled and fell? No‚ she didn’t have the time to wait. She crept on toward him wondering how she would kill such a big animal with just her knife.
A melodic song arose. She looked up. Five wolves pranced on their long legs along the rim of the horizon. She stopped moving. She would watch. To run might be an invitation to the wolves to chase her. The wind was blowing her scent away from them and she was safe for the moment.
Suddenly she wanted to sneeze. But she pinched her nose and “achooed” into the moss. Peeking through the hairs of the fur on her parka‚ she saw that in that instant the wolves had attacked the caribou and their snarlings had covered her sneeze.
They were intent only on finding food and quickly put the caribou out of his misery and pain.
With their great jaws they splintered the bones‚ tore into the hide‚ and ate his liver for the vitamins they would get. Then they ate meat. When they were full‚ they went back over the horizon‚ presumably to their whelping den and the pups inside it.
Emily Toozak jumped to her feet and ran to the carcass. She cut off large pieces of meat‚ picked up her gear‚ and started to run. She wanted to leave the wolves’ caribou far behind before she stopped. No one had told her how gentle wolves could be.
Back at camp by the bay‚ she sat down to dig an oven and build a fire to cook the delicious meat. Driftwood was scattered all along the beach. There was more than enough to make a nice fire.
“Siku‚ thank you. You are really protecting me.”
She looked about. The land was still endless. Birds called‚ a wolf howled. But something had changed. A weight had been lifted off her shoulders.
She wheeled around and faced the bay.
“Siku‚” she called. She was quiet for several minutes. There was no answer. Siku was far away‚ but his spirit was here‚ with her.
Then she stood up and faced the sea‚ her arms reaching out.
“Siku‚ Siku‚
The shaman’s curse is gone.
Gone‚ gone‚ aye‚ aye‚ aye.
The shaman’s curse is in the wind.
Aye‚ aye‚ aye.”
Three weeks had passed since she had been pulled overboard. When the meat was cooked‚ she ate it. Then she slept. Then she got up and walked up the coast to the north.
The ship North Star motored north through the Bering Strait and into the Arctic Ocean. It was June and Captain Tom “Tommy” Boyd V was standing on the deck fighting the wind.
“What a beautiful sight‚” he said to Will‚ his twenty- two-year-old son and now the ship’s first mate. He laughed. “Our ancestors would never have said that about the Arctic. It was frightening to them. Imagine bringing a sailing ship past those islands in the Bering Strait and then into this ice-covered ocean in 1848!”
Will nodded and watched the Arctic birds through his binoculars. With his keen interest in birds, he was fascinated by all the new species he was seeing—murres‚ guillemots‚ shearwaters‚ eiders‚ and auklets—to name a few.
“I hope the bowheads will increase in numbers‚” Captain Boyd said. “No whalers except certain Eskimo communities can take them now.” The president of the United States had even recently signed the Endangered Species Act‚ and the whales were now included on that list.
Captain Boyd strode back to the chart house and took the wheel. He steered the ship up the west coast of Alaska to deliver its cargo of merchandise the Eskimos had ordered
from catalogs a year ago.
Near Wainwright‚ the ice was almost gone‚ and with it the seals and walrus. Fulmars‚ stout birds with a four-foot wingspan‚ were hunting fish as they circled above the Chukchi Sea. The young of the brant geese‚ yellow-billed loons‚ and eider ducks flew among them‚ strengthening their wings for their August migration. Sandpipers tiptoed in lines down to and back from the water as they hunted food. Will was enthralled. He had wanted to see these birds since his dad had taken the helm of the North Star six years ago and brought back stories about the wildlife in the north. Will knew then what he wanted to do—study birds in the Arctic.
Captain Boyd anchored the ship at the coastal town of Olgoonik [ul-GOO-nik]‚ now called Wainwright‚ to unload some cargo. When the goods that the Eskimos had ordered had been carried ashore‚ the captain piloted the ship on to Barrow.
At Barrow‚ he anchored the North Star some distance offshore in deep water‚ as the town has no harbor. With the ship secure‚ he leaned on the rail and watched the men unload the freight into launches which could come ashore on Barrow’s beach.
Will joined him and leaned on the rail beside his dad‚ looking at all the boxes of freight. Gas stoves‚ table lamps‚ and more would be unloaded at Barrow. Everyone assumed that Eskimos still lived according to the old ways‚ but he knew that they had many modern conveniences just like everyone else.
Although Will’s ancestors had been Yankee whalers‚ the Boyds had turned to merchant shipping once the whaling industry disappeared. They kept returning to the Arctic Ocean. It was in their blood. But Will was more interested in zoology than in boats. He was coming north as an ornithologist‚ not as a merchant shipper. He had graduated from Cornell University with a degree in ornithology. He loved to be with his father when he navigated these waters.
He glanced at the thermometer on the deck. It read 30 degrees F. It was the end of August.
“Freezing in the dog days‚” he said‚ and laughed.
“Just a late summer’s day up here‚” Captain Tommy replied‚ and turned to a sailor. “Order a launch to go ashore. I’m going to town to eat at the Mexican restaurant at the Top of the World Hotel.” He grinned. “Best burritos in the whole country.”
Over the VHF radio‚ they heard a whaling crew calling back to town‚ reporting the successful harvest of a young bowhead miles away. It would take several hours for all the boats to tow it back to the beach. There it would be shared among the thankful and hardworking community. The crew gathered round as they listened to the details of the report.
“Let’s go watch them pull it up on the beach‚” Will said.
The launch arrived and they went ashore.
Will and his dad walked to the north edge of the village and joined the villagers to help pull the forty-ton whale up on land. They stayed to watch it being butchered. The meat‚ maktak [muk-tuk] (skin with blubber)‚ and baleen were put on sleds. The villagers took their prize home joyfully. Nothing was better to eat than bowhead whale. When all of it had been distributed and the women had cut off the last bit of meat from the bones‚ Will took out his binoculars and focused on the birds again. Suddenly an Arctic gyrfalcon streaked before him‚ pursuing a ptarmigan.
“I think I’ll stay ashore awhile‚ Dad‚ and look around‚” he called to his father‚ who was heading for the restaurant.
“Okay. Radio for a launch when you’re ready.”
Thrilled to be finding birds he had never seen before‚ he started walking. He walked until a car stopped and offered him a ride to the trading post. Suddenly‚ he realized he was cold. He jumped in and rode to the post and went inside for a cup of coffee. Before long‚ he was conversing with the man who worked on an exploratory oil rig in a remote area. Fascinated by of the complexity of the project‚ Will began to ask a lot of questions.
“Hey‚ I’m flying out there for a few hours‚” the man said. “I have a small Cessna airplane. Want to come with me?” Will immediately accepted and radioed his father to tell him. The pilot loaned him a warm parka and polar boots. They flew to Cape Simpson.
As he stepped out of the plane on the remote airstrip‚ he saw a rare Mongolian plover fly by.
“Wow‚ I’m going to follow that bird‚ if you don’t mind‚” he said to the pilot. “It’s a new one for me.”
“Okay‚ but keep the rig in sight. I’ll meet you back here in two hours.”
Will knew that the Mongolian plover was very rare in this area and so he followed it. Soon he found himself far out on the tundra.
And then‚ suddenly‚ the fog set in and he was lost. Whiteouts are one of the perils of the Arctic. He tried to orient himself by the sun‚ but it was no help. The fog was too dense and the sun never set in the Arctic to tell him which way was west. His dad had once said that in the far Arctic the sun sets first to the north. So in which direction was the oil rig? Were the birds flying to it or away from it?
He looked north. Nothing. He turned a complete circle‚ and there on the horizon for a brief instant‚ were the distant poles and cranes of the rig. Then the fog quickly set in again. He tried to maintain a heading toward the rig‚ walking for hours. When the fog lifted again‚ there was no rig in sight. He had walked the wrong way and was lost.
An Eskimo appeared in the distance‚ coming toward him. Will sighed with relief. The man could lead him back to the airstrip where the Cessna had landed. He waited.
The Eskimo turned into a young woman carrying a sack on her back. When he saw her‚ he burst into a jog.
“Help me‚” Will said. “I’m lost.”
“I am too!” said Emily.
They stared at each other‚ smiled‚ and burst into laughter. Her face was brown with sunshine‚ her smile framed beautiful teeth‚ and her dark eyes sparkled.
“Oh‚ look‚ could that be the oil rig?” she asked pointing to a faint object on the skyline. Will turned around.
“Yes‚” he said‚ “it is‚” and began to walk toward it. He faltered and stopped.
“Wait‚ I think that’s a mirage. We should be going this way‚” he said‚ and started walking in the wrong direction again.
She grabbed him by the shoulder‚ turned him around‚ and faced him toward the distant rig.
“Walk‚” said Emily Toozak. She took his hand and pulled. “I’m Emily Toozak.”
Will’s feet felt cold and tired. But he went toward the rig step by reluctant step. While they walked Emily Toozak told him an amazing tale of living on the tundra for three weeks‚ with a whale for a guide‚ and as he listened to her words‚ Will forgot he was lost. He had no idea that Emily had been missing for almost a month. She seemed so oddly comfortable with her situation. The rig grew larger and more distinct with each step they took toward it.
“You say a bowhead whale saved you?” he asked as they came to the runway and walked onto it. She looked him straight in his eyes.
“Yes‚” she said‚ “but now I’m back in civilization. I have to radio my parents and let them know I’m safe.” She smiled a million words.
He believed her story. The Arctic was unlike any place he’d been before. He felt like anything could happen here.
The pilot had been patiently waiting for his passenger for hours. He was worried the young man had gotten lost in the fog. He knew how unforgiving this country could be. He‚ Emily‚ and Will ducked and climbed into the small Cessna and took off to the west.
The airplane rolled to a stop on the Barrow tarmac and Will climbed out. He reached up to give Emily Toozak a hand‚ but she was still sitting‚ her eyes closed. He thought he heard her whispering‚ “Siku.”
Emily Toozak opened her eyes‚ pulled her hood over her head‚ and climbed out of the plane. She walked slowly across the tarmac to the passenger terminal‚ up the steps‚ and into the building. She gave a whoop and ran forward. There were her parents‚ Benny‚ his s
on James‚ and Oliver. The pilot had radioed ahead that she had been found and was in good health‚ and the airport had called her parents. It was a small town.
At home‚ she was greeted by her family and dozens of friends. She was overwhelmed to be back with so many people she loved. The village seemed huge. Her mother had roasted a caribou shank and brought out the best of the summer’s berries. Emily thought of the last caribou and plants she had eaten. When they were done‚ Emily Toozak spoke quietly of her adventures.
Robert Toozak took her hand when she was finished.
“Emily Toozak‚” he said‚ “do you really think that Siku pushed your floe to shore and saved your life?”
“Yes‚ I do. The curse is lifted‚” she replied‚ though she believed in her heart it was never a curse. “We both have helped each other.”
Later‚ Benny beat his dance drum far into the night.
Not many days after this‚ Will applied for and got a job at the Navy Research Lab.
In a few years‚ he and Emily Toozak were married.
They named their firstborn son Agvik (meaning “whale”)‚ with no numerals. The Toozak curse had been lifted. That was the year 1989.
Looking out the doorway of the Alaska Airlines jet plane‚ TJ‚ Captain Tommy Boyd’s second grandson‚ stared out at Barrow. No trees graced the landscape. Telephone poles and small gray wooden buildings dominated the land. An occasional yellow or blue house speckled the village like flowers. In the distance‚ a bowhead whale jaw loomed in front of the town hall‚ dwarfing the people walking by it. Here and there‚ snow still lingered.
Ice Whale Page 9
