Catherine Arta Johnson, M.D.
Intern, Jewish General Hospital, Montreal

Sunday, October 15, 1995

The highlight of this week was the return of the fishing vessels from "up north". Three fishing boats left Povungnituk the week I arrived. They were heading up north to hunt beluga--whale that is. Many of the men from the village went on the hunt and there was a lot of excitement in the village when they left. On Tuesday at lunch rumors spread through the cafeteria that the boats were coming home. They would arrive in POV Tuesday night.

Of all the day for the fishing vessels to come home it had to be that one. I had just arrived back in POV at 11:00 am from a med-evac. The doctor in Kuujjurapik had abruptly startled me from my sleep at 4:00 am to ask if I would come and pick up a patient with the med-evac team. There was a young girl in labour that they wanted to transfer to the hospital. I was happy to go, but I was tired as I had had little sleep the night before when I was on call. This would mean two sleepless nights in a row. I went to Kuujjurapik and returned back to POV at lunch only to find out about the return of the fishermen. I hustled home to catch a few hours of sleep before their arrival.

Nellie, one of Annie's friends, woke me up at 5:00 pm. I got dressed in my warmest clothes and we left the house. We walked down towards a clearing on the river's edge where the villagers would have their big celebration tonight and feast on beluga. When we arrived, there were about 20 people gathered on the beach. Slowly the people started to come. They came by foot, four-wheeler, car and even by school bus. The slow trickle of people soon turned into a deluge. Within 45 minutes there were 700 or 800 people on the beach. The anticipation and excitment were building. Suddenly someone spotted the boats on the horizon. People started giggling and laughing with excitement. One old lady even started squealing with joy. I could hardly keep from smiling.

As the boats entered the mouth of the POV river fireworks appeared in the sky. The men on the ships had set off several rounds of fireworks, much to the delight of the children on the beach. The crowd on the beach, responding to the boats set off their own round of fireworks. And so it continued back and forth. The boats setting off a few rounds and the beach replying with a few rounds. The crowd never tired of the fireworks and would shriek with delight each time a new set of fireworks lit up the evening sky.

Soon the boats neared the shore. The men aboard gave up their fireworks in favour of guns which they started shooting into the water. A new spectacle was created--a water show. Each time a shell hit, a column of water would fly up in the air. This created the appearance of dancing waters. The enthusiasm of the crowd could not be contained and soon the people were cheering, shouting and waving madly to the men aboard the ships. The ships sailed by the river's edge taking one final bow in front of their fans that waited eagerly on the beach. They sailed around the village and then came back towards the clearing on the beach. There they anchored their boats in the harbour and headed to shore in large canoes.

The crowd ran to the water's edge to greet their returning heros. I ran down to see the beluga and was told that "first there should be greetings and handshakes for those returning and then a prayer". The beluga wouldn't come until the ritual greetings and prayer were finished. And so I watche the villagers and waited.

The villagers shook hands and hugged the fishermen who had brought back a lot of food for the village. Next, the Anglican priest said a prayer giving thanks for the safe return of the fishermen and for the feast of beluga that they were about to receive. The fishermen got back in their canoes and went to the boats to collected the beluga. As they did this, the village leader got on a loud speaker and invited all to partake of the feast as there was "plently" of beluga. The whale was brought to shore and much to my disappointment had already been cut into slabs. I thought I would see the enitre beluga -- oh well. I watched as the men placed the meat on huge blue tarps. From there, people just "dug in". Women and men pulled out their uluus, which are semicircular knives used to cut meat. With a few graveful strokes they would cut a large piece of meat off of the beluga. Families gathered together on the beach and dined on the raw beluga. I wandered around watching the feast and the fish.

Thirty minutes after the arrival of the beluga, Annie came to find me. She wanted to know where my piece was. Two weeks ago she told me that I should take my fair share of beluga when the fishermen returned. The custom in the village is to share all belugas that are caught. This means that every person in the village is allowed to take home a piece of the meat. Annie wanted me to make sure I took my fair share, knowing full well that it would mean more meat for her. I laughed and went over to the tarps to collect "my piece". Annie wasn't too happy with the very small piece of beluga I received and so she took me over to another tarp to get a bigger piece. I gently placed my piece of beluga in a plastic bag and slung it over my shoulder. I walked home in the darkness with Annie, Nellie and Mary (Annie's daughter). The party was over and what a great celebration it had been.

The Inuit people really know how to have a great party. They have a good community spirit and happil share the resources available to them. I found out later that they only catch beluga about once a year and so it really is a great treat for them. Also, about 1 in 3 Inuit families doesn't have enough food to eat so when a beluga is caught it really is a big celebration -- everyone gets to eat and no one goes hungry.

When I got home I just took out my piece of meat and gave it a thorough examination. It wasn't meat at all, but rather was just the skin and the blubber. I asked Annie where the meat was, and she told me "we don't eat the meat, we only eat the skin". The skin is thick and rubbery, and underneath is a 1-2 inch thick juicy piece of blubber. Annie carefully cut off the blubber and saved it in a plastic container. She will let it liquify for several days and then the family will use it as a kind of dipping sauce for meat.

Nellie took a piece of the muktuk (beluga) skin and boiled it for me. She boiled it a long time before it was "soft enough fot the Qualunak" (white person) -- that's me. I ate my boiled muktuk with some fresh bannock. It tasted quite pleasant -- a cross between nuts and fish. Not bad, anyway. Worth eating again, maybe next time raw. If you made it this far, here is another picture. This time I am with my husband, partner, colleague and friend, Eric Jarvis. To read some of his poetry, go to Eric's file.

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