The view the other way was quite different. Snow and an occasional patch of tundra grass stretched on a flat and endless landscape to the horizon.
“Move quickly‚” said a well-meaning passenger on the steps that led down to the tarmac. “It’s cold!”
TJ raced down the steps onto the runway. Gusts of wind nearly blew him off his feet. Flying snow stung him. He ducked his head into his parka hood. Struggling to keep his balance‚ he reached the steel steps of the terminal building and climbed them. The open steel mesh of the steps let the ice and snow fall to the ground underneath. No one had to shovel. TJ liked that.
“And this is the month of May!?” he shouted into the wind.
Inside‚ he found himself in a modern terminal. Passengers were wearing furs and heavy boots. This was just another day in the Arctic.
A boy walked up to him.
“Hi‚” he said. “You must be TJ Boyd from Massachusetts. He extended his hand. “I am Agvik Boyd‚ your cousin.”
TJ blinked and stared. He was really here in Barrow. He had heard about the Arctic from the part of his family and especially Agvik‚ his cousin‚ who lived here. Now he was meeting one of them for the first time. He was almost speechless.
“Let’s get your baggage‚” Agvik said. “The lab truck is waiting outside. You must be tired after traveling for so long.”
“Let’s go.” TJ grabbed one big duffel bag‚ Agvik the other.
Their boots squeaked in the cold as they crunched down the front steps to the truck. Agvik gestured to TJ to get in the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat beside him.
The truck was heated‚ but TJ was still cold by the time they reached the lab beside the still-frozen ocean. It was May 2. The temperature was 12 degrees F. They stomped the snow off their feet and entered the building.
Agvik said‚ “You’re going to bunk with me here at the research lab. We’re with the college guys. They’re counting bowhead whales.”
“That’s what we’re here for‚ right?” TJ asked. Agvik’s dad was an ornithologist‚ but he worked with scientists who studied whales and recorded whale songs.
“Yeah‚ but for now you and I are on our own. Come with me.”
TJ picked up his duffel and followed Agvik down a dark corridor to a room lined with bunks.
“Pick one not being used‚” Agvik said‚ waving his hand at the beds stacked closely together in the room.
TJ threw his duffel on an empty bunk and took off his parka.
“Let’s eat‚” said Agvik‚ and led TJ down the hall to a large kitchen with a stove‚ a refrigerator‚ a long table‚ chairs‚ and all kinds of groceries.
“Every man for himself‚” Agvik said‚ and smiled. His black eyes sparkled under ragged bangs. TJ noticed that his face was narrower than the other Eskimos’. It looked like a Boyd face. Agvik’s dad and TJ’s dad were brothers.
A VHF radio crackled nearby.
“Ice camp calling‚” Agvik said of the noise. “That’s where they’re counting the whales.” TJ looked curious.
Agvik responded to TJ’s expression. “The camp’s on the ice near shore‚ where it’s grounded to the ocean floor. It’s only four feet thick this year‚ but perfectly safe.” He smiled. Eskimos as well as other scientists from the Lower Forty-eight had come to count the whales. They wanted to know if their populations were increasing‚ decreasing‚ or staying the same.
“What do you want to do now?” Agvik asked.
All of the sudden exhaustion came over TJ. He’d been traveling for nearly twenty-four hours. “Go to bed‚” he said. “It’s nearly midnight!”
“Okay‚ first lesson‚” Agvik said‚ and smiled‚ “Pull this ski hat over your eyes and pretend it’s dark.” He tossed it to him. TJ fell into his bed fully clothed.
When he woke up‚ Agvik was not around. He wished he were. But his stomach told him what to do. He went to the kitchen and fixed himself a bowl of cereal. He ate it on a big wooden table cluttered with tools‚ data sheets‚ electronic parts‚ pencils‚ and equipment.
“You’re up‚” called Agvik as he entered the room. “Want to go out to ice camp‚ TJ?”
“Oh‚ boy‚ do I.” He was excited to finally be able to see the Arctic!
They pulled old air-force insulated jumpsuits over their clothes and walked out into the wind. A snow machine with a sled attached was waiting for them. TJ was told to ride on the rear of the sled. Hesitatingly he stepped up on it and grabbed the back handle of the sled. Two scientists sat in warm furs on another sled with some valuable equipment packed in coolers—not to keep it cool but to keep it from freezing.
With a lurch they were off. They sped around Quonset huts‚ crossed a road‚ and bumped out onto the land-fast sea ice. Then they crossed onto the frozen Arctic Ocean. Seeing it‚ TJ was glad that Agvik had mentioned that the ice was four feet thick and safe.
TJ stared at the white wilderness around him as they thumped around blue blocks of ice. Next they roared down a winding ice trail‚ bounced over ridges‚ and rode smoothly on frozen lakes of flat sea ice. Six miles later‚ they arrived at three tents and a small wooden lab shed sitting on its own sled. The tents had been set up behind a pressure ridge.
TJ gladly disembarked. There was an Eskimo whaling camp on the other side of the pressure ridge on a shelf of ice. TJ stared at the huge ridge.
A light wind was blowing across the ice. Suddenly‚ almost before he could walk around the tents‚ the light wind became a westerly gale.
“Break camp‚” shouted an Eskimo over the radio. All of a sudden everyone was in motion. Students collapsed the tents and tossed gear on the sleds behind the snowmobiles. One student attached the lab sled to his snowmobile and drove off.
With a muffled boom‚ the thicker pack ice hit the thinner land-fast ice and began piling and shattering the ice‚ creating another pressure ridge.
One of the scientists grabbed TJ’s parka and pulled him up beside him on the back of his sled. They jerked forward. A crack opened up where TJ had stood‚ widened‚ and carried the empty science camp to sea.
“You have to do what the Eskimos do out here‚” said the scientist as they careened toward the new campsite. “The Eskimos who were camped at the very edge of the ice left minutes before we arrived. They knew the danger in that wind. I sure didn’t. We also need to learn to break camp as fast as they do. They can do it in five minutes.“
“It was so nice and calm before it hit‚” TJ said.
An hour later‚ they found a new campsite. Students started pitching tents.
TJ grabbed a tent off their sled and pitched it. It was a sleeping tent for four people. TJ saw what needed to be done and carried the huge sleeping bags inside the tent.
The students‚ who had left before TJ‚ already had the food tent set up and were studying this ice to determine where to put the lab sled. TJ figured it must be near open water so the hydrophones could pick up and record the bleeps‚ blips‚ shrieks‚ growls‚ and moans of the bowheads talking. It also had to be far enough away to be safe from the dangerous‚ shifting sea ice. Camping on the ice was a complex and risky business.
Fifteen minutes later‚ the radio crackled as a student scientist said the underwater listening instruments were in the sea‚ and ice camp was in business again.
“That was a close call‚” said Ray‚ a student from Ohio. “We should have known better than to think we knew as much as the Eskimo whalers about the dangers of the ice.” He thought a minute. “They see more whales than we do too—and without binoculars.”
“How do they do that?” TJ asked.
“A thousand years of experience‚” said Ray. “And they pass on this knowledge from generation to generation through stories.”
“Members of my family were whalers long ago‚” said TJ. “Guess this is the new way to watch whales
—with your ears.”
That night TJ and his cousin returned to the research lab from a long day at whale camp. TJ wearily pulled a ski hat over his eyes and went to sleep.
“!!!!!!!!!!!!” shrilled He sent out a danger-enemy warning to all the whales within hearing distance.
Several younger whales heard the warning‚ thinking it meant killer whales were near. Confused‚ they swam toward the elder whale.
This was not what had meant to warn them about. He had no “words” for what was happening. This threat came from dark bullet-shaped ships.
KABOOOOM! KABOOOOM!
The ships were towing seismic air guns. With these instruments they were sounding the deep ocean bottom for oil. The sounds hurt the whales’ ears and impaired their direction-finding senses.
‚ who was also in the area‚ spy hopped so he could see the ships. When he fell back‚ the sounds stung and burned him. He could not hear the familiar songs of the Arctic Ocean—crabs clicking‚ fish popping‚ seals warbling. He became confused. Some years back a young female trying to reach the coastal currents swam into a giant ship’s propellers and was killed. Large ships were dangerous.
realized that the noises were confusing him too. He was going the wrong way. He turned around. There before him was a seismic gunship. He had tolerated the icebreakers that came every winter. He could adjust to airplanes. But the sounds of the seismic air guns were painful.
His group joined him and swam steadily until they were far beyond the seismic air-gun ships that were sounding for oil. Then heard the voice of . The old whale was swimming toward him. He was acting strangely. He lolled from side to side‚ stopped‚ and then sped up. The seismic sounds had injured his tender ears. He could not balance himself well enough to swim. He growled in distress.
took a position before him and led him to the shallower shore currents. The two elders joined the other whales now streaming past Barrow‚ going east.
felt a warm river in the current. The thread of warmth was streaming out of the Pacific Ocean through the Bering Strait. He had never felt water from the Pacific that was this warm in the 150 years of his lifetime. His ocean was changing.
“Pull this white parka over the one you have on‚” Agvik said to TJ. “It makes it harder for the whales to see you.” He tossed the garment to TJ and donned another. “They’re wind- and waterproof. We might get splashed.
“I’m hoping that Siku will be coming back. He comes here about this time every year.”
“You mean you’ve seen him‚ the same whale our ancestor saw being born?” TJ asked.
“Same one! Siku’s one big whale‚ probably weighs a hundred tons‚ and changes the sea level when he breaches!” Agvik laughed. “And today I hope you’ll see him too.” They were going to paddle out a ways in a kayak to search for the whale.
After the seismic ships had gone‚ a group of whales took the northeastward-flowing current at Point Barrow and swam close to the last of the land-fast ice. Moving like an armada‚ these magnificent swimmers occasionally rose out of the water to breathe and spy on the land-fast ice. To this day‚ the ice was too silent . . . no birds‚ no barking seals‚ just stillness. Then he heard hunters whispering.
“.”
Siku warned the other whales away. But he didn’t swim with them. There was something about these hunters that made him stay.
looked through the water but could not see them. He swam closer to the land-fast ice and was able to make out their shadows. They were blue‚ in the light cast by the orange midnight sun.
dove deep. The other whales had turned abruptly when Siku warned them. Instead of joining them‚ he swam to a large ice floe not far from shore. It had been a long time since he had seen a descendant of the people with the kind eyes. There was another boy with him. They were above him. swam under the ice shelf and pushed up a breathing crack.
He took a breath‚ swam out from under it‚ and surfaced not far from the boys. They gasped as he breached forty feet in the air. The Eskimo dancing figure shone out‚ and the fallback wave rose ten feet high and raced toward them.
“Siku!” Agvik gasped.
Agvik’s voice sent a ringed seal lumbering off the edge of an ice floe into the crest of ’s wave. She swam through a swarm of Arctic cod that had stirred up with his thundering tidal wave of a splash. She did not try to grab one but streamed on.
Agvik‚ unlike the seal‚ found the wave from this wild world a physical challenge. He turned the kayak‚ with TJ in the back‚ headfirst into it and rode it out without upsetting the craft.
“Close‚” said TJ.
“Paddle‚” Agvik hollered. “Siku is here.”
They skimmed over the sea like king eiders and paddled toward Siku’s footprints.
Not far from them ‚ who was now very old‚ came swimming by. The seismic disturbances still irritated him. He turned from his group and swam toward the boys. Their blue shadows on the water told him where they were. When he was close to them‚ he breached‚ thrust his hundred-ton body backward‚ and sent an Arctic tidal wave over the kayak. Bubbling and frothing‚ the water rushed back to the sea.
felt the rage of his old mentor‚ swam under the ice shelf to his breathing crack‚ and hung still. did not follow . . . . The sea ice had roiled and banged against him‚ irritating the old whale more. He breached and lunged at Agvik and TJ in their boat. He thrashed‚ an angry animal that sailors call a “rogue whale.”
“What’s going on?” TJ asked. “Is that Siku again?”
“No‚” said Agvik. “It’s another old male‚ not Siku.” He felt a fear he had not felt when Siku was present.
Agvik and TJ paddled fiercely to get away from the whale. twisted‚ changed his direction‚ and came at them in a wave of motion.
“Hold your breath‚ TJ‚” Agvik shouted.
TJ took a deep breath. The kayak turned upside down. Agvik righted the craft with a stroke of his paddle. When they surfaced in the numbing water, TJ was spluttering and Agvik was wet but calm. Although chilled, they were warm enough in their Eskimo clothing.
Alarmed‚ Siku swam toward the old whale. He edged up to him and‚ using his whole body‚ pushed away from the boys. slapped his tail in frustration. And then he was gone.
Siku surfaced. His eye met Agvik’s kind eyes—two lives that were laced together.
Safe on the ice‚ their coats shedding water‚ Agvik and TJ stared at each other. They pulled the kayak onto the ice then.
“Siku!” TJ yelled‚ and pointed to a whale that has risen from the water. “I saw him! He had a mark like an Eskimo dancer on his chin.” An ivory gull flew under the azure sky.
“Let’s go home‚” Agvik said‚ and turned around. Before them‚ a fog was blowing in. It quickly erased sea and sky.
“What do we do now?” TJ yelled through the fog.
“Sit still‚” Agvik answered.
The fog grew thicker. TJ could not even see their nearby kayak. He didn’t know up from down. He felt dizzy.
“I’m dizzy‚” he gasped to Agvik.
“Close your eyes. It will pass.”
TJ closed his eyes.
“Here’s some maktak [muk-tuk]‚” Agvik said. “Whale blubber. Eat it and you will feel better.” TJ waved his hand blindly until he felt Toozak’s hand and the maktak.
“It’s sliced thin‚ just eat it‚” he said.
TJ ate the light‚ nutty-tasting skin and fat and forgot his predicament. He felt new strength and a deep warmth return to his body. The more he ate, the better it tasted‚ and the better it tasted‚ the more he forgot the fog. Hours passed.
After what seemed like a long‚ long time‚ TJ spoke.
“I’m cold‚” he said. “My teeth are chattering.”
“Swing your arms and eat more maktak,” Agvik instructed.
Th
e fog began to thin and there in the haze before them was a ghost-like figure.
“Who’s that?” came a voice out of the whiteness.
“Agvik and TJ Boyd‚” Agvik answered.
A tall man emerged as the fog thinned.
“I’m Dr. Diaz‚” he said. “What are you doing out here?”
“I could ask you the same question!” responded Agvik. “We were trying to find a whale.”
TJ stomped his feet and beat his arms to get warm.
“I’m with the lab‚” Dr. Diaz explained. “I was sampling seawater for an acidity test. We want to find out how the acidity of the water is changing due to the increase of carbon dioxide in the air.” The boys could see him more clearly as the fog lifted and swept away.
Whoosh! A whale blew nearby.
Agvik turned around.
“Siku!” he yelled when he saw the whale’s chin.
“You seem to know that whale‚” Dr. Diaz said.
“I do‚” Agvik answered. “He has been part of our family for many generations.”
“That’s valuable information. We are just finding out that whales are the oldest mammals on earth. The chemical composition of the eye suggests that some are two hundred years old. But we don’t know for sure.”
“There have been old stone harpoon points found in some whales’ bodies‚” Agvik said. “They have been out of use for over one hundred and twenty-five years‚”
“Really?” said TJ.
“Yeah‚ the last time they used that type of stone harpoon was back in the 1800s. So the whale in which they found it must have been older than that. He could have been big and old when he was struck and got away. Siku will be a hundred and fifty-seven in July‚” commented Agvik.
“You know that?” asked Dr. Diaz.
“Yes‚ I know when Siku was born‚” he said proudly.
“That’s unusual. When?”
“Eighteen forty-eight. My ancestor saw his birth. It’s a long story. My family has been protecting him ever since. We call him Siku. And he even saved my mother, and might have saved us today.”
Ice Whale Page 10