Chasing narwhal: Camping in Grise Fiord
Last August, WWF’s Jacqueline Nunes joined a research expedition to Ellesmere Island to study narwhal, the “unicorns of the sea.” Read about her journey throughout Polar Bear Week. (Read the whole series here.)
We arrived at our “camp” on a Thursday, after flying into the remote community of Grise Fiord by propeller plane, loading our gear onto motorboats and travelling over an hour into the fiord. The boat ride itself was spectacular—racing through the fiord with jagged cliffs of red, orange and brown surrounding us on both sides. Amon, the Inuk whose boat I was in, brought us up close to a seagull colony, which was literally thousands of seagulls all nested on this one cliff. The noise was deafening. He also pointed out seals and pulled up alongside a single iceberg, floating in the water.
It took two days of heavy lifting to erect camp. We built a cook tent heated by a propane stove and big enough for the team to sit around one table at meals; a heated research tent; our individual sleeping tents; and a latrine, which was a tall, narrow tent hiding two buckets labelled #1 and #2. We unpacked three weeks of food, dishes, toilet paper… sleeping bags, gasoline, research gear… an entire crate of gloves… and dry suits for all 12 of us, for when we had to wade into the icy water to handle narwhal.
As soon as camp was up, our priority was to get the narwhal net out into the water. Our team leader, Jack Orr (a veteran researcher who has spent three decades doing Arctic field work for the Department of Fisheries and Oceans) directed the team in untangling the net, inflating the massive white buoys and digging a deep trench for an anchor to secure the net to the shore. Then, we loaded the net into the zodiac and steered out into the water.
Once the net was dropped into the water, it had to be monitored 24 hours a day. (We also had to watch for polar bears.) In pairs, we were assigned three-hour rotating shifts. Jack instructed us on what would happen when a whale was caught in the net. Besides attaching satellite tags to track movements, the team would measure each whale, take blood samples, and evaluate behaviour. We would work as quickly as possible—in less than 20 minutes, we’d be done and the whale would be released.
Our days at camp revolved around our shifts, with our free time filled up with preparing food, doing camp chores (filling sandbags, emptying latrine buckets, sorting through gear), exploring and watching for wildlife (without straying too far from camp). There was 24-hour daylight and the temperature was usually within five degrees of 0C (summer in the Arctic!) We had days of harsh winds and blowing snow; when the sun came out, it was glorious. We got creative with meals, making crepes for breakfast, doing Mexican night with homemade tortillas and salsa, and baking in a tiny Coleman-stovetop oven.
When it was time to sleep, I stuffed myself (wearing long underwear, woolen socks and sometimes my toque) into two sleeping bags and pulled a sleep mask over my eyes to block out the daylight. Outside my tent, I could hear my teammates on watch for narwhal, laughing and trying to stay warm.
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