July 28, 2000
JANE GEORGE
Nunatsiaq News
CARL RITTER BAY — After three weeks of climbing mountains, P.J. Akeeagok, 15, and Pauline Akeeagok, 19, have benefitted from a strenuous work-out and a first-hand understanding of what geologists do.
The two young residents of Grise Fiord were hired by the Geological Survey of Canada (GSC) this summer as field assistants to help rock scientists from the GSC in their mapping of the region around Carl Ritter Bay on northeast Ellesmere Island.
"They are full members of the teams, not tokens," said Ulrich Mayr, a GSC geologist and field camp chief. "And they work."
Weather permitting, from 8 a.m. to 6 p.m., P.J. and Pauline headed out every day.
Dropped off in the morning by helicopter on top of a mountain, they spent their days walking on foot over challenging terrain. Each would accompany one of the geologists at the GSC field camp. As field assistants, they took measurements of rock layers, recorded rock locations, and learned to identify rocks and other features of the landscape.
Dangerous climbs
"I just go out, and follow my geologist," said P.J., who showed no fear even when he had to scale slopes with almost no visible footing.
P.J. would occasionally say, "I’m not dying for rocks," but he rarely refused any climb or descent, no matter how di ying or scary.
It was P.J.’s second year, and Pauline’s first experience, as a geological assistant.
"It inspires them," said GSC geologist Keith Dewing. "We’d like them to get so inspired that they become geologists or prospectors themselves."
The presence of P.J. and Pauline, as well as several prominently placed Nunavut flags around the camp, kept the 16 or so residents of the camp aware of where they were, although Carl Ritter Bay is hundreds of kilometers from the nearest Nunavut community of Grise Fiord.
Several at the field camp even spent bad weather days learning Inuktitut syllabics, useful words, and the equivalent of each others’ Qallunaat names in Inuktitut.
Snow fell over a few days during July, blanketing all the rocks, and caused the geologists to stop their field investigations — because they couldn’t see enough of the rocks.
Despite that, daily field work followed a pattern. Every morning, teams of two flew via helicopter to pre-selected locations. These sites were chosen for their interest beforehand from aerial photographs, helicopter surveys, or by looking down from high points.
Direct observation
The teams would then start hiking around their sites, often starting at the top of a 2000-metre mountain, and then zigzagging down to the bottom.
Each person carried packs heavy with hammers, maps, sample bags, compasses, and measuring equipment. Not surprisingly, because their day involved 10 to 15 km. of walking — and often in difficult conditions, and over steep terrain — the geologists ended up looking more like mountain climbers than researchers.
But this close contact with the land is part of their profession. According to one field manual, rock scientists must try to "see the world as it is" through direct observation.
"It’s like a giant pu le, and every day we find a piece," said one GSC geologist.
"It’s the little details that stand out," said another.
Of course, days spent in the field were not without its rewards: the sight of narwhal coming up for air in open water, the dramatic view of Greenland across the water, a picnic in warm sun by a stream, and the discovery of an ancient tent ring or fossil remains of long-gone plants and animals.