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Dundas Village is a couple miles from Thule
Air Base on a little spit of land at the foot of Dundas Mountain. This place was traditionally used by groups of
Inuit people, who were (and still are) the northernmost indigenous people on earth. So little was known about them
in the early part of this century that they were even foreign to the Inuit living in the southern
parts of Greenland. While growing up in Jakosbhavn (now Ilulissat), Knud Rasmussen heard
all sorts of wild things about these mysterious people to the north. Later in life, he and Peter Freuchen established
a small trading post at this spot. This was also the launching point
for several Thule expeditions led by Rasumssen. On the left side of the picture, modern
buildings can be seen which comprise the modern "Dundas Village". To the right are remnants of the old houses, abandoned
in the early 50's when the Inuit moved farther north to Qaanaaq after the giant air base was built. The bit of sea in
the photo is North Star Bay. During construction of Thule Air Base, this bay was filled with hundreds of ships. That must
have been one hell of a sight for the locals. A random piece of Thule Trivia: this airbase has no permanent aircraft
assigned anymore, but does have a tugboat, as it is the world's northernmost deep water port. The pier was made by
strategically positioning a few barges...and then sinking them.
Here is a panorama (obviously). The fjord to the right
continues back several miles, and is one of the few fjords in the world which has three individual glaciers empyting
into it (or so I'm told). Whatever unique features it may or may not possess, it is nonetheless an impressive
spectacle. Dundas Mountain is the unavoidable, unmistakable landmass on
the left side. On the top of Dundas Mountain is a large stone cairn, which (I think) was originally
built by Rasmussen himself. It is tradition for anyone who climbs up to add a rock to the cairn. I really wanted to do
this, but with all the work we packed into the one short week, there just wasn't enough time.
So one day we drove over here on the way back from work at the
North Mountain study site. There were so many highlights during this trip that it's hard to pick just one as the best.
But, this really was the part of the trip that has stayed with me the most. I recall telling Ron that seeing the old
things here reminded me of the feeling I had while visiting Scott's and Shackelton's huts on Ross Island. Not quite
the same magnitude, but not too far off. The huts on Ross Island are the last real things left by some of the first people
to live in the Antarctic. In the same way, these relics are from the way these people used to live...the first people
to live this far north. This beautiful cemetery was fenced off, but I could read dates on some of the crosses
back to the early 1900's (although people had lived here long before this).
Another look at the cemetery. When I croak,
this is the view I want.
Closer to the shoreline, we saw several old houses.
This one might strike you as looking similar to
an igloo - it certainly struck me that way. I think the similarity is probably more than cosmetic. The low entryway,
dug into the earth, allows access without opening a tall door. A modern-style door, positioned above ground level,
would probably let in cold air every time someone entered or exited. Anyway, here you have it - one of the oldest
structures left by the Thule people. The reason no older dwellings exist is that they had no wood to build with before
Rasmussen arrived. Some driftwood floated in now and then, but the tallest tree I saw here was maybe 2" off the
ground. The Iniuit are traditionally a
nomadic people, who migrate according to seasonal food sources. In the old-old days, they constructed houses made
from whale bones arched over a pit dug in the ground. The whale bones were then covered with skins. A similar entryway
was also dug into the ground leading outside, presumably to the leeward side of the prevailing winds. While walking
around this area, I could see some depressions in the ground which were shaped in this way...more or less circular
with an rectangular extension on one side. I don't know how old these depressions were, but without being an archaeologist
they were the oldest remnants of the ancient Thule culture that I'll ever see outside a museum.
The front yard of the house, complete with wildflowers.
The yellow ones are Arctic Poppies; dunno what the smaller white ones are.
Another old place, which will probably not even be
recognizeable in another 50 years. I sometimes entertain
daydreams about going back to school, and I think of all the different things I could do for a living besides engineering.
I've thought about being a teacher, glaciologist, social worker, physician's assistant, mechanic, and any number of
other occupations. None of this has been serious though, as evidenced by the fact that I'm in my fifteenth year of
plugging along in the field of engineering. Which is just fine really - I am competent in my work, have an interesting
job, and make a good wage. I cannot complaing even one tiny bit about my professional life. But after visiting Thule and
reading some books since then, I have started to fantasize about being a polar archaeologist. I understand one can
actually obtain a degree in such things. Ah well, as long as we're talking about fantasies, there is that certain
female star of "V for Vendetta"...
The "new" village of Qaanaaq, north of Thule, is said
to be one of the most traditional Inuit villages in the world, and one of the very last places where they live (almost)
as they used to. I didn't have time to visit Qaanaaq this time, and in fact I don't even know what kind of permissions
are needed to visit there...let alone how much it would cost. I did buy the Lonely Plane guide to Greenland and the
Arctic, so maybe that'll tell me. But if I ever get back up to Thule, I am going to make
the time to go. And if I can't afford it, I'll put it all on my damn Visa card ;-).
I called this picture "no one lives here
anymore". While walking around here I had a very distinct feeling inside. Not sad necessarily, but not joyful either.
I felt extremely honored to be here, and it was poignant to see these old houses which were abandoned by
the Thule people after the air base was built. But after reading the book "I Sailed with Rasmussen" by Peter Freuchen
I had a somewhat different perception. That book make the place come alive to me, and it was easier to actually imagine a
time when these houses were real homes, to real people. I can't recall who told me this, but someone mentioned that
some old-timers living in Qaanaaq grew up some of these old houses.
So here's me. I was just at the Trident
Bookstore last night with Paola, and found a fantastic book with beautiful
pictures from this fellow John Bockstoce who had been working and travelling in the Arctic since the 60's. I started to
flip through and it took about 3 seconds for me to decide to buy it. Every page has a stunning photo of an Arctic scene,
from glaciers calving into fjords to lonely gravesites in utterly barren shores. That guy has been everywhere.
I haven't been doing work in the polar regions for very long, but still, after 4 years I'm still captivated by these
things. I don't know when or if I'll ever stop doing this.
A few of the modern buildings at Dundas Village. I think
this red one is owned by the Danish police officer who works at Thule. In a completely unrelated note, I must once again
digress. While I was at Thule, some Canadian C-130 crews were on base. They use Thule as a stopover point on
their runs to resupply the Alert station on Ellesmere Island. I quickly found out that they are legendary on base for
their drinking. They basically do a mission to Alert, step off the plane back in Thule, and proceed to get stupefied.
Loudly stupefied. Then they pass out until it's time for the next mission. I suppose they also eat somewhere in between.
Later in the season, when resupply flights are in full swing, it's a nonstop
drunkfest with these guys. 2:00 in the afternoon, 3:00 in the morning, it doesn't matter. So anyhow, one evening after a
long day of work, we convened at the North Star Inn for a pizza. The North Star is the local hotel, where the pillowcases
are stenciled with "Property of US Government". And believe it or not you can actually call up and have pizza delivered
anywhere on base, along with beer or soda. So we were sitting in a lounge on the second floor and a group of these guys
were having a seriously amplified discussion about the intricacies of doing airdrops. The crux of
this enthralling conversation was the mindset one assumes when dropping different loads. In particular, how do you approach
dropping a practice load (a "box of rocks") to a real load? This is not necessarily a dumb topic for conversation,
but the converstaion itself was D-U-M-B. Now I have heard plenty of drunk conversations in my life, and I admit to
participating in quite a few of them. But I heard more inane prattle about that damn box of rocks than I could
have ever imagined...