The Skinned Seal and Little Thief

Yesterday was a beautiful day in Pond Inlet, as every day thus far has been. The sun is so very white -- sharp and clear and unerring. It blankets the entire hamlet with an unyielding light, rising from pastels in the morning and dying in a blaze of ferocious pink on the ice at night.

I've made this smaller, but that's it. A genuine picture of the light. You can see how it makes such lovely and crisp shadows -- blue, instead of black. This is on the edge of town facing Bylot Island.

Dave took us for a little drive around town to take some photographs, which I am saving for another post. However, after we returned to the house, I was able to watch an engaging little drama unfold on the ice right outside of the kitchen window.

The dog teams live on the ice, as I've said. Sometimes, standing outside, you can hear them yipping and complaining, but they're mostly silent. They aren't tethered, but the dogs here seem to know their place: those that are in town slink around, expecting to be pelted by rocks at any moment.

It's a hard life -- not what most Southerners would want for their dogs, but the dogs here are tools not pets -- but it does have sweet rewards.

One local drove down from town with a frozen seal, caught earlier and left outside. I watched him pull up with the seal and start going to work to it.

I wasn't the only one who noticed. Soon, a beautiful white husky came over the ice. A hungry beautiful white husky.

After being chased away a few times, the dog tried the other side as the hunter continued to peel the skin from the seal, leaving it in chunks on the ice.

Dogs are opportunists. Our little thief managed to steal a piece.

Sneaky pup.

Of course, it didn't take long for the hunter to notice and to watch. Pat and I knew this would be the telling moment: if the seal wasn't for the dogs, this little thief would be in big trouble.

As it happens, though, the hunter just returned to work, efficiently skinning the frozen seal. He hopped back on his skidoo once the work was done and drove out to his dogs, seal trailing merrily behind him.

Seals are common here, although right now is not a great time to get them (it takes a great hunter to spot the gentle mound in the snow on the ice that indicates a breathing hole). In a little while, the seals and their pups will be up on the ice, basking in the warm sun -- that same sun that is intense and unrelenting and will grow to dominate both day and night here in Pond Inlet. Just above the school, seal skins, bleached white, dry on a railing, while frozen seals stand in the front yard. These, too, may be food for faithful dogs, who understand their place but are not yet willing to forgo opportunistic snacks.

Seal skins, drying. This is not an uncommon sight around town, to see skins hanging outside. Brooke has even sighted a polar bear pelt, so I'm going to need to find that one to take a picture.

These will have been around for awhile. It's been nothing but sun, sun, sun here in beautiful Pond Inlet.

After the drama and some down time -- much needed near the end of any teaching week, but especially after the week and a half we students from the south have had (wrapping up units, last minute marking, saying goodbye to family and students and very handsome greyhounds, packing, flying to Ottawa, making our way to Nunavut, then the Arctic Circle, adjusting to a new home, new school, new community). However, we did have two visitors last night, one of whom I hadn't seen in probably 8 years. We reminisced, talked about the North, ate delicious cake (thanks, Pat!), drank tea, and laughed.

It's a small and curious place, this world we live in, and that seems to be amplified up here. The connections we find when we start digging are truly remarkable -- and what a place to have as an anchor linking so many people.

Meeting in Pond Inlet -- only 3144 km from Cambridge, NS!