How is global warming effecting the Arctic? Here's one example: the hunters of Siorapaluk, Greenland who are depicted in these pictures, don't expect their 1,000 year-old subsistence way of life to last for more than another ten, possibly fifteen years. There isn't enough ice to sustain their spring seal, narwhale and walrus hunts any more. Recognizing that many traditional Arctic cultures will disappear in my life time, I want to see as much of the far north as I can as quickly as possible. That's one of the reasons for my 2006 around-the-pole trip. These pictures are my modest effort to document what I've seen. I took most of them, but two were taken by Canadian photographer Dennis Minty.
These two Greenpeace photos were taken from the same spot in Spitsbergen, Svalbard, Norway, 80 years apart, in 1922 and again in 2002. They show the dramatic change that has occured as the Arctic Island's largest glacier has all but disappeared.
Greenland has experienced similar glacial losses. The Jakobshavn Glacier, largest in the northern hemisphere, is behind me in this photo taken in 2003. If you took a picture from the same spot today, all you'd see would be sky and Disko Bay in the background. The Jakobshavn has retreated 3 kilometers in two years.
A sign post in Qaanaaq, Greenland. Copenhagen is thousands of miles away from this spot. The North Pole is just a few hundred.
The Greenland Sled Dog is the only breed allowed in northern Greenland. Slightly smaller than Huskies and Malemutes, especially this far north, they are renowed for their strength, endurance and intelligence.
A tip on staying warm in the Arctic: don't get cold. What I mean by that is that rather than toughing it out once you start to get cold, rubbing your mittens together and stomping your frozen feet, the Inuit recommend that you simply pull the dogs over, stop and take a warming tea break. They manage the cold by staying ahead of it. Warming yourself at the first sign of discomfort is easier than reheating your body and extremities once they arre chilled.
This Thule hunter stands on sea ice, watching a companion track a ringed seal. The crop is his hand creates a "pop!" when cracked, encouraging his dog team to pay attention. He's wearing a hand-made white parka, a form of camoflage that makes it easier to blend into the snow-covered environment while seal hunting.
An iceberg rises above the flat sea ice about a half mile from land. Many of the ice formations off the shores of Siorapaluk are actually pressure ridges... as opposed icebergs that have calved off glaciers.
The leader and second dog on a team. Like most lead dogs, this one was an alpha male. He continually asserted his status on the team, growling and nipping at lesser dogs that tried to pass him. Dog fights, though infrequent, did occur. Check out the scars on the third dog.
Four of the dozen or so children who live in Siorapaluk. Unlike their more reserved parents, these kids immediately befriended me, poking through my luggage, hugging me and practically crawling into the sleeping bag with me at night.
Greenland sled dogs spend their entire lives outside. They are work animals and are trained to be unfailingly obedient. During a seal or polar bear hunt, if an anxious dog wimpers or moves, it can alert the prey and ruin the hunt. In addition, when harnassed to the sled, Greensled dogs must act in unison. If individual dogs stopped every time they had to pee, the sleds would never get anywhere. So the dogs learn to pee -- and poop-- on the run.
This man was the oldest of the four hunters I traveled with. Here he unwinds fishing line, which he then lowers into a hole in the two-foot deep ice, tugging steadily on the line to attract one of the small fjord halibut.
The old man jigged for halibut in the 15 below cold for nearly 30 minutes. His hands are bare.
By April northern Greenland recieves 24 hours of daylight. The sun is out for about 18 hours and then there is twilight for the remaining 6 hours. The life patterns of the Inuit change with the increasing and decreasing daylight. For instance, when I was there in April, children were running around outside at 4 in the morning. I gues they figured, hey, there's light out. Why not?
In summer these cliffs are home to hundreds of dovekie nests. The hunters put nets on 30 foot poles and catch the dovekies flying to and from their nests, a nice change in diet after a winter of seal, narwhale and walrus.
The weathered door of an abandoned Canadian Mountie's cabin on Scott Inlet, Baffin Island. Two Mounties would be stationed at this remote location for a year or two at a time. The site was eventually abandoned because it served no useful purpose and because the isolation drove the last two inhabitants of this cabin to commit suicide.
Pakak Innuksuk and Aieu Peter demonstrate drum dancing and Aiya singing. Pakak, who acted in the movie Atunarjurat, is renowned drum maker and drum dancer.
One of the hundreds of glaciers sliding seaward on Baffin Island. Because of Global Warming some no longer make it to the water. Many Arctic glaciers have receded inland, leaving rocky morains in their wake, the remnants of dying glaciers.
A polar bear, photographed in the Davis Strait, a good 50 miles from shore, basking in the summer sun. Photo by Dennis Minty.
The human form of this Inukshuk indicates that a community is nearby. This Inukshuk is on a bluff overlooking the Nunavut community of Qikiqtarjuaq. Photo by Dennis Minty.
The boys of Qikiqtarjuac can hunt, fish and carve ivory. But none of these skills are as valuable or prized as the one I taught them -- how to make a Batman mask with your fingers.
Many of the icebergs floating in Disko Bay dwarf the resident fishing trawlers. Fishermen take care not to get too close to the bergs in the event one calves. This berg recently sheered off the mammoth Disko Bay Glacier, which, thanks to global warming, has in recent years doubled the velocity at which slides seaward.
Wind, snow, rain and time sculpt clefts and magnificent formations into the floating bergs.
The women of Itillimut hang their traditional clothing out to dry. The boots in southern Greenland are more ornate than those in the northern Thule district. That is because the farther north one goes, the harder life is. Less time and resources can be spent on ornamentation.
