Padloping Remembered Part 1″

Taissumani: 2008-10-10

By Kenn Harper

Over four decades ago I had an opportunity not to be duplicated again anywhere in the Canadian Arctic. For those new to the north today, it's difficult enough to describe what life was like back then even in Iqaluit, let alone a small settlement.

But my situation was unique. For I had the opportunity to live in the smallest community of what would eventually become Nunavut.

Iqaluit was like a metropolis compared to tiny Padloping. Broughton Island (now Qikiqtarjuaq), the nearest community, although one of Baffin's smaller communities at the time, had seven times the population of Padloping.

Padloping doesn't exist anymore, except in the hearts and memories of those who once called it home. For us, it will always be a place to cherish and treasure.

Before I talk about my own experiences on Padloping, I want to mention the history of this isolated community.

The site was always a traditional camp. As early as the 1830s, in the whaling era, Scottish ships frequented the area, especially nearby Durban Harbour, which was a favoured place to take on fresh water and trade with Inuit.

Padloping Island itself is about six miles long and two miles wide at its widest point. The small community that grew up there was near the south-west corner of the island, just east of a small bay that was almost a lake at low tide but took an influx of salt water at each high tide. The Inuktitut name for the location was Paallakvik – the place where one trips or falls forward.

In 1934, the legendary pilot, Colonel Charles Lindbergh, wrote a report to the United States government on trans-Atlantic air routes. He suggested that weather monitoring stations be constructed at various points in and around Baffin Island. His report lay dormant until 1941, when the Second World War gave it a new urgency. The North Atlantic Air Route now became a necessity.

The U.S. government, with Canadian approval, began establishing a chain of airfields and weather stations in the north to ferry short-range military aircraft from the United States to Great Britain. This project had various names – the North East Staging Route, or the Crimson Project, or the Crimson Route.

Three routes were planned: The Eastern Route was planned to go from Presque Isle (Maine), through Labrador, Northern Quebec, Upper Frobisher Bay, West Greenland, East Greenland, Iceland, to Prestwick (Scotland.)

The Central Route would commence in Detroit, pass through North Bay, Kapuskasing, Moosonee, Richmond Gulf, Northern Quebec, and from there intersect with the Eastern Route.

The Western Route would start in Great Falls (Montana), pass through Regina, The Pas, Churchill, Southampton Island, Upper Frobisher Bay, and from there intersect with the Eastern Route. In the very early planning stage, there was to be one more airfield – at Padloping – but by 1942 this idea had been deemed impractical.

In the North, airports would be built in Coral Harbour, Fort Chimo, Frobisher Bay and Goose Bay.

So much for the Crimson Project. Weather stations would also be needed, and they were given a different code name – Crystal. Crystal I was built at Fort Chimo and Crystal II at Frobisher Bay. Tiny Padloping Island was designated Crystal III when the United States Air Force established a weather station there in 1941.

The term "air force" shouldn't delude anyone – there never was an airport; all personnel arrived by ship. The United States Navy established its own set of code words, used in those days to name missions, people and important places – code words that were indecipherable by the best cryptographers because they were arbitrarily chosen. And so Padloping acquired another code name – DELIGHT.

In 1945 the Inuit population of Padloping was about 30. By all accounts, the 10 American weather station personnel and the Inuit got along well. A young American soldier, Jim Poole, arrived on the island aboard the USS Laurel from Frobisher Bay that fall. A few years ago, he recalled his experiences and his impressions of the Inuit for Inuktitut Magazine:

"We paid a wonderful seamstress named Mary to make outdoor clothes of sealskins for us, because we soon discovered that our army-issued clothing wasn't adequate at all for the cold."

The young soldier wrote letters home to his parents about his time there.

"In many ways they [the Inuit] are much more civilized than we are. All our stores and supplies are left unguarded and none ever touched though many times, they are hungry. They receive gifts in an orderly fashion, never rushing or grabbing, but each waiting their turn.

"As for work, each Eskimo has twice the energy as any of us, although only half the size in stature…

"Igloos… are their winter abodes while tupiqs or tents are home for the warmer weather. They have their own dances, songs and games, and enjoy them in ways that should make we so-called civilized people feel ashamed."

(To be continued next week)

Taissumani recounts a specific event of historic interest. Kenn Harper is a historian, writer and linguist who lives in Iqaluit. Feedback? Send your comments and questions to kennharper@hotmail.com.

Share This Story

(0) Comments