First-hand view of Canada
Trevor Corkum kept a diary during his time as writer-in-residence for leg 6 of the Canada C3 expedition. The following entry provides a brief glimpse into his experience on board. July 25: Saglek Fjord, Torngat Mountains National Park
We wake to blessed stillness. The ship has stopped rocking. Though the white motion sickness bags tucked discreetly into each room are reminders of rough waters, when I peek out my porthole window, it’s all blue sky.
And towering, majestic mountains. Cliffs of jagged shield rock soaring three thousand feet tall.
Last night, we made our way north and anchored in Saglek Fjord, a sacred destination for the Labrador Inuit.
“Gorgeous,” we mumble, necks craned skyward as we board the sleek Zodiacs. We’re bundled into the requisite layers for our northern summer adventure — fleece, toques, mitts — though I’ve impulsively opted for cargo shorts, given the welcome sun.
A few minutes later, we disembark. Parks Canada staff, lead by Torngat Mountains Superintendent Gary Baikie, are waiting on the rocky shore. Inuit elder Sophie Keelan is hard at work, tending a fire of dried roots, preparing dough for bannock. Soon Natan Obed, Canada’s Inuit leader, casts his line into the fjord, anticipating a catch of Arctic char that will be gutted, cooked and smoked throughout the day.
“Be careful where you step,” says Martin Lougheed, visitor experience manager for the park.
Turns out the grassy ridge above the beach, which several of us have clambered onto for a better view, hides a trove of precious archeological artifacts. The area has been home to Inuit, Dorset and pre-Dorset communities for thousands of years.
Gingerly, our motley crew — including a Yukon Supreme Court justice, a celebrated comedian, a Conservative MP, and Canada’s first Indigenous surgeon — make our way over the boggy trail, sidestepping lichen, blazing purple wildflowers, the ubiquitous Labrador tea. Soon we’re navigating a rocky incline, edging past a heart-racing waterfall. We cross a fast-moving stream and, as we bat away mosquitoes, we help one another across, arms reaching, voices encouraging. A few of us break into cheers.
Near a glacial lake, its surface Caribbean blue, we notice a pile of still steaming fresh bear scat dotted with blueberries. Inuit rangers have staked out the area, watching over us like guardian angels, trained to respond in a heartbeat to the ever-present threat of polar bears.
With little prompting, the more daring among our group quickly strip down to bathing suits, delicately advancing into the icy lake.
Despite this baptismal reprieve, and the ensuing laughter, a deep current of emotion lies below the surface. We’ve shared so much already — nightly heart-to-hearts, whispered on-deck discussions — as we’ve sailed past islands and icebergs. Trauma, shame, stories of resilience. Difficult conversations about the complicated wounds lodged in the beating heart of our nation.
How do we properly bear witness to the past? How do we begin to heal and move forward?
“Look!” someone yells. A black bear has been spotted, sniffing and exploring at lake’s edge, a few hundred metres away.
“Time to go,” says one of the guards, eyes on the bear.
So we emerge from the water, a little numb, piling our layers back on, heading back to the char and the steaming tea, all the stories that await. Trevor Corkum was writer-in-residence for Leg 6 of the Canada C3 expedition, from Nain, Labrador to Iqaluit, Nunavut. Follow the Canada C3 journey at canadac3.ca.