July 29, 2005
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History
August 2, 1840 - Inuluapik and Penny Re-Discover Cumberland Sound
(Continued from last week)
On July 27, 1840 the Bon
Accord, under the command of William Penny, stood off Leopold Island, a
small island off the coast of Baffin. To the south lay open water and then,
in the distance, more land. This open water must be the mouth of a large inlet,
thought Penny. It must be Tinujjiarvik, the body of water that Inuluapik had
described as teeming with arviit - the bowhead whales that were the prize sought-after
by Scottish and English whalers. Inuluapik confirmed Penny's supposition. This
was indeed Tinujjiarvik.
But Penny checked his maps
and his latitude carefully and concluded incorrectly that this inlet was in
the wrong place to be Cumberland Sound. It must be something altogether new.
He named it Hogarth's Sound, in honour of the owner of his previous ship, the
Neptune. It would be a few years before the error was recognized and
the original name restored.
Ice prevented an immediate
entry to the inlet, but eventually a southeast breeze dispersed it. On August
2 Penny hailed two nearby ships, the Lady Jane of Newcastle and the Lord
Gambier of Hull, which followed him into the fiord. They followed the northeast
shoreline and eventually met two Inuit who came aboard the ship. Inuluapik told
them about his adventures in the white man's land. They promised him that they
would pass on the news of his return to other Inuit, so that his mother might
be informed.
Finally the ships crossed
the sound to Qimmiqsut, Inuluapik's birthplace. Offshore, they met a group of
Inuit, two of whom were Inuluapik's cousins. One might well wonder what would
be the first of all his experiences the young traveler would relate to impress
his relatives. Surprisingly, he didn't tell initially about any of his experiences
in Scotland. Instead he told of meeting Inuit on the Greenland coast and described
the peculiar way in which they spoke. He also demonstrated the use of a gun
that Captain Penny had given him as a gift during his long convalescence in
Scotland.
Penny insisted that Inuluapik
not leave the ship at Qimmiqsut but rather accompany him farther into the sound.
He was concerned that they still had not seen any whales. At the head of the
sound the Bon Accord anchored in a harbour near the Inuit village of
Nulluk. The next day, in the ship's boat, Penny set out on an exploratory voyage
to the last long arm of Cumberland Sound, now called Clearwater Fiord. He was
accompanied by Inuluapik and an old man named Aaniapik. Inuluapik wanted to
impress the old fellow, for on the previous day he had received the man's permission
to marry his adopted daughter, Kunuk. In mid-August they returned from their
unsuccessful search for whales. Penny was beginning to despair, but the Inuit
informed him that whales would be numerous in the fall.
Back at Qimmiqsut, Inuluapik
left the ship. Penny headed for the mouth of the sound to check the ice conditions.
When he returned to Qimmiqsut, he was surprised to learn that Inuluapik had
already disappeared inland on a hunting trip. He was even more startled to learn
that he had already taken a wife - and it was not Kunuk.
Penny crossed again to
the northern coast of the sound. Finally he found whales, but luck was not with
him. His crew only managed to harpoon two, and they were both lost. The Bon
Accord left the sound on September 22 without catching a single whale.
Thus the voyage that was
of the most profound significance to the development of whaling in southern
Baffin Island, although an exploratory success, was a financial disaster. The
Bon Accord had been the only whaling ship remaining in Aberdeen, and her
owner, a Mr. Crombie, was forced to sell her.
In the following years
Cumberland Sound became the most important whaling ground in the Canadian Arctic.
Inuluapik quite literally put Cumberland Sound back on the map. The chart he
prepared for Penny in 1839 bore a close resemblance to the map Penny prepared
the following year. In that peculiar way white men have of looking at discovery,
Inuluapik had helped a man rediscover something he had known was there all along.
Inuluapik's trip to Scotland
was the first of many to be made from Cumberland Sound across the Atlantic during
the next three quarters of a century while whaling flourished.
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History recounts
a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week.
Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback?
Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
July 22, 2005
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History
July 27, 1840 - Inuluapik and Penny Search for Cumberland Sound (Part One)
In 1839, William Penny,
a veteran Scottish whaler, made a fortuitous stop at Durban Island on the Baffin
coast. It was a favoured spot for whalers to take on water and to trade with
the Inuit who congregated there increasingly in the 1830s.
Whalers had exploited the
waters of Davis Strait for over a century, but it was only since 1817 that they
had made the dangerous crossing of Baffin Bay to harvest the bowhead whale on
the virgin eastern coast of Baffin Island. The bowhead whale was also known
as the Greenland right whale because it was the "right" whale to hunt.
It was slow-moving, huge, and generally floated when killed, leading to relatively
few losses of struck whales.
But, nonetheless, whaling
was a dangerous business. In 1819, 10 ships were lost in Baffin Bay. In 1830,
91 British ships sailed for Davis Strait but the weather that year was unusually
fierce, and 19 of those ships were lost. Of those that did return to port, many
were badly damaged and had poor catches to show for their efforts. Five years
later, only six ships were lost, but 11 were trapped by ice and 600 men had
to winter in the Arctic unprepared for the severity of the winter. One-hundred
and thirty-five froze or died of scurvy.
Into this unpromising situation
stepped William Penny. He wanted to search for the elusive Cumberland Sound,
mapped by Davis in the 1580s, but never entered since. At Durban Island, Inuit
had told the whalers of a large inlet to the south, an inlet they called Tinujjiarvik.
The Inuit said that it was rich with bowhead whales and other wildlife. Penny
supposed that Tinujjiarvik and Cumberland Sound were one and the same. He thought
it might prove to be a profitable hunting ground for the bowhead, which was
already becoming scarce elsewhere.
In 1839, after fishing
in Baffin Bay, Penny made for Durban Island. There he met Inuluapik, a young
Inuk man in his late teens or early twenties, who seemed to know a great deal
about the much-reported Tinujjiarvik. He had been born at Qimmiqsut, an island
on the southern coast of that body of water. Earlier in that decade, his family
had moved to the Davis Strait coast precisely because they had heard that whalers
frequented the area, and Inuluapik's father foresaw the possibility of acquiring
trade goods from them.
Inuluapik drew a sketch
for Penny. Although he had not seen Cumberland Sound for many years, his map
was drawn in considerable detail. It so impressed Penny that he invited the
young man to accompany him to Aberdeen to spend the winter and return with him
again the following year. Penny's motivation was purely self-serving. With the
assistance of Inuluapik he hoped to gain publicity and government support for
a purely exploratory voyage the following year to find the elusive entrance
to Tinujjiarvik, and thereby rediscover Cumberland Sound.
But Inuluapik was not concerned
with whether or not he was being exploited. This was the opportunity he had
been waiting for. In previous years, he had begged whaling captains to take
him to Scotland, but had found none willing. Now, with the consent of his friends
and relatives and despite the tears of his mother, Inuluapik eagerly accepted
Penny's invitation. His mother, fearing that she would never see her son again,
exposed her breast for him to suckle it for the last time, as he had done in
his youth. This farewell completed, Inuluapik boarded the Neptune some time
in October 1839 and entrusted himself to the care of William Penny.
The ship reached Aberdeen
on November 8. Inuluapik's arrival created a sensation. It also almost cost
him his life, for he caught a lung infection almost immediately. Some days later,
at Penny's suggestion, he gave a demonstration of his kayaking ability on the
River Dee. Although it was a warm fall day, he performed in full fur dress.
The result was a recurrence of his lung infection. This time he was confined
to bed for 14 days. Indeed, his health remained poor for the rest of his stay
in Britain.
Inuluapik and Penny left
Aberdeen aboard a different ship, the Bon Accord, on April 1. After a difficult
crossing of the North Atlantic, they reached Davis Strait on May 5. The government
had failed to provide any funds for a purely exploratory voyage, so Penny headed
north to whale in Melville Bay, and eventually headed south to search for Tinujjiarvik.
On July 27, near Leopold
Island, the Bon Accord encountered the unexpected - the land seemed to end abruptly,
to reappear to the South at an apparent distance of 60 or 70 miles. They had
arrived at the mouth of an enormous inlet. Could this be Tinujjiarvik, which
Penny suspected was Davis's Cumberland Sound?
(To be continued next week)
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History recounts
a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week.
Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback?
Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
July 15, 2005
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History
July 17, 1771 — Slaughter at Bloody Falls
KENN HARPER
The names of Samuel Hearne
and Mattonabee are inextricably linked in northern history.
Hearne was born in England
in 1745. Orphaned young, he entered the service of the Royal Navy at the age
of 11, later joining the Hudson’s Bay Company, which sent him to Churchill
in 1766. Moses Norton, in charge of that post, was obsessed with exploiting
a copper mine rumoured to exist in the far north. Indians had brought specimens
of the ore to Churchill in 1767, which further whetted Norton’s desire
to find and exploit the deposit.
Hearne, described as “diligent
and trustworthy but not an assertive character,” left Churchill on foot
in November 1769, with two white servants and a party of Indians, prepared for
a journey of up to two years. But the attempt was a disaster and before Christmas,
Hearne was back at Churchill. The following year he made another abortive attempt,
turning back for Churchill in August.
In September, while still
making his way back to the post, he met the Indian leader, Matonabbee, who was
on his way to Churchill to trade. The two reached Churchill together on November
25. Hearne described the Indian as the “most sociable, kind and sensible
Indian I had ever met with.”
Matonabbee had been born
about 1736 to a “slave woman” whose origins are unknown. She had been
a slave to an Indian who traded her to the Hudson’s Bay Company at Churchill.
Richard Norton, manager of the post, gave her to a Chipewyan man, and that man
became Matonabbee’s father. Soon after, both parents were dead and Richard
Norton unofficially adopted the boy. When Norton retired in 1741, Matonabbee,
still a child, rejoined his Chipewyan relatives. Eleven years later, then in
his late teens, he returned to Churchill where he was hired by the company as
a hunter to supply game to the post.
At Churchill, Matonabbee
learned the Cree language and “made some progress in English.” Hearne
thought him punctual, truthful and “scrupulous.” Nearly six feet tall,
he was strong, energetic and courageous. The new manager at Churchill, Ferdinand
Jacobs, selected Matonabbee to make peace between the Chipewyans and their long-standing
rivals, the western Cree. Matonabbee worked patiently over many years to bring
about peace and establish trade between the two groups. During this period he
acquired influence and at least seven wives.
After Hearne’s return
from the aborted second journey in search of the copper mine, he spent only
12 days at the trading post before Norton again directed him to take up the
search, this time in company with Matonabbee. Hearne’s journal makes it
quite clear that Matonabbee was in charge. Hearne later wrote of him in endearing
terms, describing his “benevolence and universal humanity to all the human
race, according to his abilities.”
This is a remarkable characterization
in light of Hearne’s knowledge that Matonabbee had murdered one of his
spouses for casting doubt on his ability to satisfy seven wives. It is even
more remarkable considering the events that happened when the party reached
the Coppermine River. Nonetheless the two men were friends and both were devoted
to the goal of reaching the Coppermine by land.
The party traveled west
during the winter, then turned northward in April. At Clowey Lake, Hearne was
disillusioned when a large group of western Indians joined their party with
the expressed intent of murdering any Eskimos that they might encounter at the
mouth of the Coppermine. Hearne protested, but to no avail, and eventually gave
up, to the point that, amazingly, he wrote in his journal that “I did not
care if they rendered the name and race of the Esquimaux extinct.”
On July 17, 1771, Hearne’s
fears were realized when the party surprised a camp of Inuit sleeping in their
tents near the mouth of the river. That morning Hearne’s Indian guides
killed over 20 Inuit — men, women and children. Hearne left a heart-wrenching
description of the slaughter: “The shrieks and groans of the poor expiring
wretches were truly dreadful; and my horror was much increased at seeing a young
girl, seemingly about 18 years of age, killed so near me, that when the first
spear was stuck into her side she fell down at my feet and twisted round my
legs, so that it was with difficulty that I could disengage myself from her
dying gasps. As two Indian men pursued this unfortunate victim, I solicited
very hard for her life; but the murderers made no reply till they had stuck
both their spears through her body and transfixed her to the ground. They then
looked me sternly in the face, and began to ridicule me, by asking if I wanted
an Esquimaux wife; and paid not the smallest regard to the shrieks and agony
of the poor wretch, who was twining round their spears like an eel!”
Hearne was unable to prevent
the massacre. Matonabbee did not attempt to prevent it, and participated willingly
in it. Hearne named the spot “Bloody Fall.” The name lives in infamy
today as “Bloody Falls.”
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History recounts
a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week.
Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback?
Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
July 8, 2005
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History
July 9, 1923 - Wilfred Caron's Untimely Death
KENN HARPER
The CGS Arctic left Quebec City on July 9, 1923 under the command of the aging
Captain Joseph Bernier. The ship was bound for Pond Inlet, carrying a court
party for the trial of three Inuit accused of murder. On board was Wilfred Caron,
35, who had signed on as third officer. He was to be a witness in the upcoming
trial.
Caron was from L'Islet, Quebec, and he was the nephew of Bernier's wife. He
had first gone to the Arctic at the age of 22, on Bernier's sovereignty expedition
of 1910-11, wintering in Arctic Bay, where he got his first taste of life among
the Inuit. In 1912 he returned north, again with Bernier, on the Minnie Maud.
The vessel wintered in Albert Harbour near Pond Inlet, but Caron spent the winter
with a large group of Inuit at Sannirut, also known as Button Point on Bylot
Island.
In 1916 Caron took over Bernier's post at Igarjuaq, just east of Pond Inlet.
He remained there for the next three years. The Inuit knew Caron as Quvviunginnaq
- the one who always has a tear in his eye. Back home in L'Islet, he was better
known by his nickname ti-loup - little wolf. Although he spoke English poorly,
he learned to speak Inuktitut as fluently as a native. He was, in the words
of a shipmate, "active but nervous and restless."
Inuit traditions and customs during the whaling and early trading era were
not yet influenced by missionaries. It was not uncommon for capable people to
take more than one wife or even more than one husband.
Caron soon took a native wife. She was Panikpak, and she was also the wife
of another man, Uirngut, an excellent hunter, with whom she had three children.
Panikpak was proud, calm and assertive. Her knowledge and capabilities were
respected among her people. Panikpak and her children moved in with Caron shortly
after he arrived in 1916. Uirngut put no obstacles in the way of the relationship.
He accepted her decisions, provided for his children, and taught his boys to
hunt.
In 1919, when the ice was breaking up, Panikpak gave birth to Caron's first
child, a son whom she named Qajaaq (Kyak) after her mother. A daughter and another
son soon followed. Panikpak was no stranger to hard work. Her strong partnership
with Quvviunginnaq influenced Inuit to bring their furs to the post he operated
for Bernier.
In 1919, Bernier sold his trading interests, and Caron became the employee
of Henry Toke Munn. But Caron had been in the district for three years and needed
a holiday. Leaving another man in charge, he crossed the Atlantic twice to reach
Quebec. In the summer of 1920 he returned with Munn to find that a former rival,
Robert Janes, had been killed by Inuit that spring. The following year, with
Munn's departure, Caron took charge of the Button Point post.
In 1922 Caron left Button Point for another winter in Quebec. Munn noted, with
no explanation, that he "had a great deal of trouble with poor Caron on
the voyage, as he went temporarily insane."
In fact, a year earlier Caron had hit his head hard on a crate being moved
off the boat at Button Point. Over the winter he had experienced problems as
a result of that blow. His departure from Albert Harbour was tumultuous. He
had wanted to take his three-year-old son Kyak, south with him, but the boy's
mother, Panikpak, objected strenuously. Caron left without the boy. He would
never see Kyak again. (Kyak would grow up to become a well-known special constable
with the Royal Canadian Mounted Police.)
The next summer, Caron was anxious to return to Pond Inlet and see again the
young son he had left behind. But at 9:30 p.m. on July 9, shortly after the
Arctic left Quebec City, Caron was knocked overboard.
J. D. Craig, expedition commander, wrote, "I was on the bridge when Caron
went overboard. The fore sheet was foul of the port sidelight box and in attempting
to clear it he overhauled on it, and a puff of wind striking the sail at that
instant, he was catapulted into the water." When the cry of "man overboard"
was heard, Leonidas Lemieux, second officer, rushed to the deck, threw a life
buoy overboard, and began to launch the life boat. Craig's secretary, Desmond
O'Connell, a young man of twenty-three, joined the voluntary boat's crew. In
the stern of the boat, O'Connell was so excited that he had to be restrained
by two other volunteers.
A few moments later, crouched in the bow, O'Connell suddenly shouted, "If
you can't find him, I will, I can see him," and dived overboard before
anyone could stop him. He quickly sank from view. The vessel stopped and searched
the darkness of the river for both men for 20 minutes, before giving up the
search and steaming full ahead. Caron's body was found washed ashore on July
16, O'Connell's, five days later.
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History recounts
a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week.
Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback?
Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
July 1, 2005
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History
July 7, 1826 - Tatannuaq negotiates détente between John Franklin
and the Inuit
KENN HARPER
Tatannuaq was an Inuk from the Kivalliq, born and raised about 200 miles north
of Churchill. From 1812 to 1814 and again the following winter, he worked for
the Hudson's Bay Company at its Churchill post, where he learned to be an interpreter.
He went back to his Inuit community in 1816, took a wife two years later, and
fathered three sons.
In 1819 John Franklin, an explorer, embarked on his first Arctic expedition.
His instructions from the British Admiralty were to explore the north coast
of America from the mouth of the Coppermine River eastward to Hudson Bay. Franklin
passed the winter of 1820-21 at Fort Enterprise. He had arranged that two Inuit
interpreters join his party and accompany him to the Coppermine. Therefore Tatannuaq
and another Inuk named Hiutiruq traveled overland from Hudson Bay through Great
Slave Lake, and joined Franklin in January of 1821.
Franklin always referred to Tatannuaq as Augustus and Hiutiruq as Junius. The
two Inuit accompanied Franklin's party to the Arctic coast, and were invaluable
in his exploration of the coast to the east. But on the return journey to Fort
Enterprise, many of the party died of starvation; Hiutiruq disappeared while
hunting and was never found. Tatannuaq became lost from the rest of the party,
but eventually returned safely to the fort.
He returned to Churchill in 1822 where he was again employed by the Hudson's
Bay Company. The following year, while acting as interpreter for the missionary,
John West, he converted to Christianity
In the spring of 1825, John Franklin hired Tatannuaq again, to be interpreter
on his second overland Arctic expedition. With another Inuk interpreter, Uligbaq
(Ouligbuck), he joined Franklin at Methy Portage in what is now Saskatchewan.
The party traveled via the river system to the Mackenzie and on to Fort Franklin,
where they wintered.
On June 26, 1826 they set out down the Great Bear and Mackenzie Rivers for
the coast in four eight-meter boats. The parties divided at the head of the
Mackenzie Delta and Tatannuaq accompanied Franklin's and George Back's party.
On July 7, they unexpectedly encountered several hundred Inuit. At one point,
Franklin and Back counted 73 kayaks and five umiaks, with more still arriving.
Franklin prepared gifts for the Inuit, but unfortunately they had not approached
with friendly intent. They pillaged both boats, and hauled Franklin's boat ashore
in the shallow water. Franklin's sixteen men were seriously outnumbered. Tatannuaq
attempted to halt the pillage, and "endeavoured to stop their proceedings
until he was quite hoarse with speaking."
Finally, Back got his boat afloat again and his crew levelled their guns at
the Inuit, who immediately retreated. These events did not augur well for the
success of the rest of Franklin's mission.
The boats had barely cleared the mouth of the river when they ran aground again
in shallow water, about 150 yards offshore. A party of eight Inuit appeared
and requested that Tatannuaq come ashore. Franklin at first refused to allow
it, but Tatannuaq insisted on going ashore unarmed "as he was also desirous
of reproving them for their Conduct."
Franklin's own words tell best about that meeting:
"He intrepidly went and a complete explanation took place. He pointed
out that it was entirely forbearance on our part that many of them had not been
certainly killed, as we were provided with the means of firing at a long distance.
He told them that we were come here entirely for their benefit. In his own country
he told them they were formerly in the same state of want as themselves, but
that since the white people had come among them, they were supplied with every
useful article… He was well clothed, got what he required and was most
comfortable… The English love the Esquimaux and all Indians, and are kind
to them and so they will be to you if you receive them as you ought. I repeat
they are not afraid of you and can kill you a long way off if they choose…
If you had killed any of the white men I would have shot you. This speech was
addressed to upwards of forty persons who had now assembled round him and all
of them with knives, and he quite unarmed. A greater instance of courage has
not been I think recorded."
Tatannuaq's bravery mollified the Inuit who, he reported, expressed their sorrow
and regret. They claimed that they had never seen white men before and that
the material goods they saw were so "new and desirable to them" that
they could not resist the temptation to steal them. There is little doubt that
Tatannuaq's skills prevented loss of life on both sides.
After a survey of a portion of the coast, Franklin's party began its return
to Fort Franklin. This time the Inuit they encountered were friendly, some even
warning Tatannuaq of the harmful intentions of others. When the reportedly-treacherous
Inuit approached, ostensibly to return pilfered items, Franklin refused to allow
them to get close, and fired a shot in front of their bows.
When the expedition reached Norway House in June of 1827 Tatannuaq's employment
was at an end and he wept at the separation.
Taissumani: A Day
in Arctic History recounts
a specific event of historic interest, whose anniversary is in the coming week.
Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback?
Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.
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