Onward To Elwin Inlet – Part 1

Everyone was glad the annual Fishing Derby competition was not cancelled in the wake of the ongoing COVID-19 pandemic.  There were no confirmed cases in the community so the organizers felt that the “show should go on”.  Of course, participants were still encouraged to practice social distancing when fishing.  The fishing locations were: Arctic Bay, a lake near Victor Bay, Ikpikituarjuk, and a far away lake to the south, past Ikpikituarjuk.  The derby started on Saturday, May 16, but some participants left as early as Thursday because they needed the extra time to get to Ikpiki & the far away lake.  The bays & inlets are still frozen in May, but cracks do form in certain places.

I decided to do some travelling on May 16 but not because of the fishing derby.  I’m more interested in exploring the land than fishing.  I’ll have to devote at least a day or two in the future to develop basic fishing/hunting skills just in case my skidoo breaks down far away from the community. 

My destination was Elwin Inlet, around 61km to the northeast of Arctic Bay.  I had never been there before and I would have to drive a distance of 70km to get there.  I was aiming to just get to the entrance because I wasn’t sure if I had enough gas to explore the inlet itself.  Even though my skidoo was working again, the dashboard was still out of commission.  I would have to guess how much gas my machine was consuming.  I already had a good idea of the rate of consumption based on my trip to Baillarge Bay in 2019.  I normally travel with a full tank and two 20L gas jugs.

My backpack was full of supplies.  I packed: snacks, toilet paper, small first aid kit, binoculars, Kleenex, spark plugs, batteries, extra ammunition, earplugs, Ziploc bags, GPS, SPOT, map, and matches.  For lethal protection I had my 12-gauge shotgun, machete, and niksik.  I left a copy of my travel map at home and let my coworkers know where I was going for the day.  It took me an hour to get ready. 

The trip began at 10:30am.  I followed the Road to Victor Bay.  In true stereotypical Canadian fashion, I found myself apologizing to my skidoo while I drove on the road that zigzagged up a hill.  There was no snow; only gravel and small rocks.  Skidoo drivers usually drive on the snow next to the road but by mid-May much of it had melted away.  There was now a steep incline on the trail near the top of the hill and I feared my machine would tip over if I tried to drive over it.  When I got to the top of the hill, I drove off the road and onto a small frozen lake I had traversed on foot when I was exploring the Cliffs in April.  I stopped and checked the runners on my skis to make sure they weren’t damaged.  They were not.

I followed a skidoo trail over the land, across another frozen lake, and down to Victor Bay.  The trail does not follow the road.  I was surprised there wasn’t much snow.  There were a few places where I was driving over exposed soft grass.  Thank you, global warming.  As long as it wasn’t rocks.  The trail led me to several cabins along the western shoreline of Victor Bay.  I was expecting to see people outside but saw no one.  I continued down to the shoreline and found a spot to drive onto the ice. 

There were a few qamutiks (wooden sleds) lying on the ice.  To my right, I spotted a large object that looked like a large seal.  I used my binoculars and my camera to confirm that it was in fact a large foam mattress.  Hopefully, the wind wouldn’t blow it away. 

Victor Bay.

When I revisited the St. Georges Society Cliffs in April, one of the last pictures I took was a long skidoo trail snaking its way across Victor Bay.  I easily found this trail and followed it all the way to other side of the bay.  I reached the top eastern tip of the bay, also known as Graveyard Point.  It was here I spotted and drove over a small ice crack.

Graveyard Point.

I continued across Strathcona Sound and past Cape Strathcona.  My earplugs & helmet dampened the continuous, monotonous drone of the two-stroke engine.  I left the right plastic panel that covers the exhaust at home.  The cold weather would keep the exhaust cool.  I stopped a few times to take pictures of the jagged cliffs & mountains to my right.  I already have pictures of them from past trips, but their awe-inspiring presence makes it difficult not to take photographs.

Ship Point.

Facing towards Elwin Inlet.

I was surprised when I reached Ship Point because it felt like not a lot of time had gone by.  I checked my GPS to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating.  I left the engine running, stepped off the skidoo, and stretched my legs.  There were no signs of life in the area except for me.  The gas cans were still attached to the skidoo.  I looked towards Baillarge Bay, briefly remembering the day I explored that area in 2019.  I then set my sights to the north.  I could already make out the entrance to Elwin Inlet in the distance.  It appeared close, but I knew the inlet was 20km away.  I pondered on filling up on gas but decided to wait.  I got back onto the skidoo and took a deep breath.  I was about to enter an area for the first time.  I exhaled and squeezed the throttle.  I continued following the skidoo trail.

I was expecting a certain level of fear to surface as I passed Baillarge Bay.  Even though I was following a frequently travelled route to the floe edge, there are still things that could go wrong.  I was alone, my skidoo could break down, and at worst, the ice beneath me could break, or I would become a polar bear’s next meal.  I did have enough supplies to last another day or two.  My point is never lure yourself into a false sense of security.  Always be on guard.  Surprisingly, those feelings of concern were blocked by the majestic jagged mountains & cliffs I passed.  Being awe struck by their grandeur made me feel relaxed.  I stopped a few times to take pictures.

Reality decided to test my resolve when I neared Elwin Inlet.  The skidoo tracks I was following suddenly turned right at 90 degrees.  I slowed down to make sense of what I was seeing and then my mind shouted “Ice crack!” a split-second later.  I turned right just in time.  The crack looked at least a metre wide.  I drove alongside it and looked for a narrow spot to cross over.  When I found a spot, I got off the skidoo and photographed the crack.  Turns out there was still thick ice underneath the exposed water.  I drove back a few metres, turned around, squeeze the throttle, picked up speed, and drove over the crack.  I made a mental note of the crack’s location.  I would have to cross it again on my way back.

I spotted a small valley to my right just before the inlet.  It looks like a nice place to camp.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t see a way to get there because there was a lot of built up ice along the shoreline.  Exploring that area would have to wait until another time.

A very tall slanted mountain sat next to the valley.  It doesn’t have a name, at least, not on the map I looked at.  I quickly realized that it sits on the southern edge of Elwin Inlet.  I drove onward, crossed a small ice crack, and found a spot where I could clearly see the entrance to the inlet.  I turned the skidoo around just in case I needed to make a quick escape.  I had finally arrived.

Elwin Inlet.

                                                                         To Be Continued . . .