Hey folks,
Well, we've been gone from New Orleans for almost 16 months and have been in Kotzebue for over 15 months. I guess to some of you we are just a fading memory (except for these nagging emails) and maybe that's just the way life's supposed to be. I guess we are the sum total of our life's experiences (I think I probably stole that from somewhere) and I am shooting for the biggest total I can. A few things have occurred here and I am beginning to feel the itch in my feet again. I have done some research and have a few prospects in mind (all in Alaska of course). I like the idea of an even more remote location than here but Patty is reluctant about the idea, she wants more civilization not less. She likes the idea of a place like Kodiak Island and I am trying to convince her to consider the medical clinic in the Pribilof Islands. I just don't know right now. We may just end up staying right here, at least for a while.
Anyway, it is now the end of June and the weather for the last two weeks has been as good as it gets here. The temps have been in the mid 60's to the upper 50's with either patchy clouds or just blue skies and sunny. The summer solstice passed last weekend and the daylight hours will now begin to shorten by 7-11 minutes a day although we will not see any darkness until sometime in August. Both this weekend and last weekend we have been down the beach about 12 miles on leisurely rides stopping frequently to talk, fish, enjoy the sun, build a fire, or take pictures of the rapidly appearing flowers and the migratory birds. The tundra is varying colors of green now with patches of white that is even visible from the air. No, it's not snow, it's Alaska cotton grass and daisies. Just this morning before our ride I took some pictures about 20 yards from the apartment of some beautiful blue Iris's.
Last weekend we passed the camp just past Sadie Creek, about a six mile ride, and there were white patches of meat hanging under the drying shed. I found this curious and could not figure out what it was. It turns out that it was a beluga whale they had harvested the day before. They were once very common here and part of the subsistence diet. According to James Mason a writer for the Arctic Sounder, Ross Schaeffer, who owns the camp stated that a study showed that in the mid 80's an incident occurred that theorist’s feel could have caused the whale to all but disappear from this area. It seems that a pod of over 6,000 beluga whales were caught in the ice on the Russian side of the sound and a Russian ship was dispatched to try to break through to them. Before they could get there over 1,000 were harvested by Russians and another 3-4,000 died in the ice. Less than 1,000 remained by time the ice breaker got to them. Since then there have not been many in this area. It is not as odd an occurrence as you might think. The whales are air breathing mammals and can only hold their breath for a limited time. If the ice freezes behind them they may not be able to stay submerged long enough to reach the open sea.
I flew to a different village Thursday morning. The village of Noatak is located on the Noatak River about 50 miles north of here. As I was sitting in the terminal waiting for my nine o'clock flight a man walked up to me about quarter till, introduced himself and shook my hand. I stood there with a dumb look until I realized he was my pilot and was ready to go. Seems it was just me and him, some mail, and some packages going out there this particular morning. Walking out to the plane my worst fears were realized as I stood there looking at the smallest plane they had and trying to figure how the he.. I was going to get my 350 lbs of "muscle" into that small of a conveyance. After a couple of embarrassing moves I was able to get into the copilots seat and strap in. I reached over and latched the door he had just shut, leaned my excess bulk against it and made sure my seat belt was tight in case the door gave up in mid flight. As we were taxiing I reached into my pocket and removed my camera telling the pilot that although I had been here for 15 months I was still a tourist. I looked at him and said "not only that, I get paid to do this". He looked over at me and said "that's my line". I made sure that I kept my hands and feet away from the controls and did my best to try to figure out which instrument did what in case the pilot had a heart attack. On second thought I would be more a more likely candidate as he was in his early thirties and I finally gave up and figured when my time is up, it's up. On the flight out it was clear and a bit bumpy and we cruised for the most part at 1000 feet until we came to a rocky-I guess you would call it a hill-mound that he had to climb to 1,500 feet to clear. We made it with about 200 feet to spare I might add but I wasn't worried, we have big balloon tundra tires that bounce, don't we? We then dropped back to a comfortable 1000 feet and flew between the next two "hills". It is beautiful as the tundra is now green with the white patches of flowers I mentioned before visible. Looking down is a sight as far as the eye can see of scattered lakes, ponds, rivers, trees, and streams interlacing the now green land. The sun was glinting off the many bodies of water and even though it is hard to hear above the chipmunks under the hood turning the propeller, it is extremely peaceful. When we got to Noatak we approached the village from the side and the pilot turned the plane seemingly on its side in a turn to make the runway. After a few bounces we rolled smoothly along on the gravel and approached a waiting pickup. The pilot then unloaded some of the baggage from a compartment in front of the cockpit and behind the engine. As there is only about five feet of space between the engine and the cockpit I was trying to figure out where the engine was. Must be some really small chipmunks. The pilot loaded the mail, the baggage, and me into the truck and off we went.
I spent two days at the clinic doing chart reviews while listening to the village CB. This is the way many in the village communicate and all homes and businesses have them. One call in particular that came over the radio was from a family member wishing dad a happy birthday, God bless, and thanks for everything. On the lists I was reviewing was a list of phone numbers to contact the patient if need be. In lieu of a phone number one had listed to call on the CB and ask for "Papaboy". (Wait, did I just make a HIPPA violation on patient confidentiality?) That afternoon I took a short walk after work. This village is located on the banks of the Noatak River but the village is divided into two sections separated by about a half a mile. I suppose it's because the tundra where the village is located now that its summer, resembles a bog. Firm land to build on is at a premium. The clinic is on one edge and a few steps out puts you at the edge of the great beyond. This village of a little over 500 people is just a speck of humanity seemingly haphazardly placed here in the middle of all this beauty. Looking out at it I was reminded of some Midwestern states I have seen as it resembled from ground level plains with a few trees here and there. Here the birds were the ever present ravens and seagulls, their calls intermingling in the evening air. I went back to the clinic and was caught as I always am in a new village by local artists plying their wares to the new fish in town. Each village seems to have it's particular type of artwork. Ambler is know for it's birch bark baskets. Selawik has hand carved caribou bone and antler art. In Noatak it was caribou antlers with hand drawn scenes of local life. They lightened my wallet by about 60 dollars. That night I went to sleep about 10:30 and was awakened by the phone at 11:30 by someone looking for the on call CHAP. I was asleep by an hour again when this time I was awakened by a herd of kids playing on the clinic porch at 1am. It's still daylight so why should they be in bed right?
The next evening I was brought to the airfield by the village clinic pickup and when my plane arrived it was the same Volkswagen with wings and the same pilot. Shoot, by now he and I were old friends. He offloaded his cargo that included a plastic bag with styrofoam plates which an eager local quickly claimed-takeout Chinese food, bush style. (It really was takeout that was ordered from Kotzebue and flown in.) I was a bit more graceful in getting in this time as by now I was an old hand. Of course if a door can have a personality I swear that door had a look of "oh no, not again!" On the way back the pilot was late for another run and we flew at 500 feet this time until we had to clear the same hill of rocks where we went up one side and down the other-old hat by now. We arrived home safe and on time. Of course this was after the pilots approach was straight over the town to the point I thought he was going to land on the main thoroughfare until I realized he was landing on the little used dirt strip. On the way home a man was transporting his outboard motor tied to the back of his 4 wheeler. It was good to be home. As it was almost five pm and I had spent two days eating spam and crackers and MRE's scrounged from the military, I went to Patty's office and we went out to eat. After a bit of discussion we decided on Chinese (har, har). Sitting in the restaurant eating, two boys about 7-8 years old walked up to the counter and the cashier said "I bet I know who you are". She named their names, asked what they wanted to eat and seated them across from the counter. Seems mom had called and told the waitress the kids were coming and to give them what they wanted. After we ate we both got a chocolate dipped cone and sat on the side of the road by the sound. As we sat listening to the gentle sounds of the surf as we ate our ice cream, we slowly turned white from the dust churned up by passing vehicles. As I have said before, life is good and it was good to be home.
Next weekend is the Fourth of July, the biggest celebration of the year here in Kotzebue. This year however there is a native fair planned for the fifth, sixth, and seventh. There are going to be representatives from around the state and even from Russia. My daughter is flying in from Anchorage for the week and I am really looking forward to it. Since my daughter is going to be here and the last two weeks have been beautiful, I am wondering if I should break out the snowmachines or buy lifejackets as we are probably going to have some type of record breaking weather.
Oh well, I have had fun writing this letter on this sunny Sunday afternoon. I am nursing a slight sunburn and a few mosquito bites as I write. On a sad note however, there was a boating accident on one of the rivers this week and although I do not have all the details I know at least one life was lost. When you realize there are only about 10,000 people in the whole region the high amount of accidental deaths really strikes home. This land is beautiful but not to be trifled with or taken lightly. It is however, our home and we do love it here in Alaska.
Take care,
Carlo
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Last updated:
08/29/05