NWP 16. ‘aving a whale of a time

30-Aug-24 Cambridge Bay

6hrs set aside for shore excursion to Cambridge Bay.

Ah yes. Cambridge Bay. Sounds enticing. Doesn’t it.

Sounds quaint. Doesn’t it.

Conjures up images of the Cotswolds. Doesn’t it.

Er no.

Fleapit.

Apparently for the past 5,000 years it’s been chosen as a place to live for its location and its resources. In Inuit it’s Iqaluktuuttiaq. Meaning place of many fish. In English named after the Duke of Cambridge. No. Not that one. The 19^th century one.

At the evening briefing the night before it was suggested that residents of Cambridge Bay are a bit brighter (as in intelligence) than residents of Ulukhaktuk. Schedule to arrive at noon. Told that we may hear the town’s siren to denote start of lunch hour. When everything shuts down. One of our Inuit CA’s sons heard this for the first time a few years ago and thought a Russian nuclear strike was imminent.

Landing on shore it’s clear that this is a bit more of a cultural mixed bag. Ulukhaktuk was completely Inuit. But. There’s a couple of African looking gents handling logistics. A few more white Canadian looking faces. Local RCMP officer appears to be Pakistani/Indian. More diversity.

Told that there will be a 2hr guided tour by locals. Who are young teenagers. The school tries to promote the youngsters whenever a ship is in town. Last year it was the basketball team doing the tour. This year we have the cadets.

Shown around town by a 12 year old in tracky bottoms and sweatshirt. We’re all wearing polar gear. Flipping kids. They’ll catch their death.

It’s not a tour. It’s a follow me to the next shop/centre/museum/Arctic Research Centre/shop/shop/shop. ‘Cos I know where I’m going. ‘Cos I’m local.

Dire.

Decide to stride out alone. Except. I can’t. I’m wearing these thermal wellies we all have to wear. For bio-protection nonsense. So. It’s more of a waddle. As they don’t fit like a glove. And trying not to get a blister. As I can feel one coming on. Given they’re a little bit loose. Like the Ministry of Silly Walks.

Which exacerbates my arthritic left knee. And my dodgy left ankle from an electric scooter incident in Berlin. Last summer. When I tried to stop myself from being killed using left foot as a brake. At 15mph. Miss Braunschweig felt this was funny as I limped around Berlin that weekend. And for a further 6 months. Not forgetting my right little toe being stubbed/broken/dislocated a few weeks ago. Apart from that. I’m fighting fit.

Head for the Canadian High Arctic Research Station (CHARS). As been told it’s worth a visit. For about two minutes. Dreadful recommendation. Not worth the trek to the edge of town if you’re ever in Cambridge Bay.

There’s a Canadian military exercise happening in town. To ensure that all the plans are in place and working. Ensuring no illegal incursions into the North West Passage. Canadians consider the NWP to be its territorial waters. Russians, Chinese, Americans think differently. Military PR bod is very military. Very upright. Very intense. Very. Short. Sharp. Speech.

Whilst it’s considered a minimal risk of unknown Russian/Chinese surface water vessels there is the possibility of submarines.

Having now done the CHARS and the museum. Am to discover the delights of KFC! (See yesterday’s blog). There’s nothing much else to do.

Ask a local where I can find the KFC. It’s in the Northern supermarket. Off I speed. The excitement.

Hmmm.

Just a room off the supermarket. With deep fat fryers. And soda drink pumps. Think I’ll stick to the excellent food on board.

The Northern supermarket is about a small Sainsbury’s size. It’s local noticeboard has an advert wanting people to go on a grizzly bear hunt!

Fresh fruit and veg well stocked. Including. Bizarrely. Avocadoes. Not much more expensive than Waitrose.

Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce – CAD6.69/£3.78

Tabasco CAD4.89/£2.76 (not much more than Sainsbury’s)

HP Sauce CAD10.49/£5.92

And its piece de resistance. Never been to a supermarket where real fur has been on sale.

Yes. Racks of pelts. See photos below.

Rabbit.

Beaver. CAD200.

Raccoon.

Coyote.

Fox. CAD300.

Brushed beaver fur is the softest thing I think I’ve ever felt.

Assistant identifies each fur. One of the largest furs is, she says, rabbit.

Bloody big rabbit. Think I.

Someone’s shot Harvey.

But no. It’s tiny little fluffy bunny rabbits which have been killed. And skinned. And then sewn together. To form a large coat like fur. All the woke leftie vegans are crying now.

See a bit of a commotion further up the road. Requires waddling to. Loads of crappy furniture on display. The sort you might see in a third hand shop down Hyson Green (ethnic part of Nottingham for those who don’t know). Local Housing Association is offloading its crap. Sellotaped to each piece of furniture is a brown paper bag. White Canadian woman handing out strips of paper. Not unlike raffle tickets. But ticker tape style rather than a book. You take a strip of paper. Like a raffle ticket there are two parts. You rip one part off and put in brown paper bag attached to furniture that you want. And retain the other bit as proof it’s your ticket. Like a raffle.

Each piece of furniture now has brown paper bag with lots of numbered tickets in it. Like a raffle. They pull out a ticket. And the winning number gets that piece of furniture.

It’s a busy old place.

Local Inuit girl carrying baby in traditional way. Ask if I can take her photo. “20 dollars”. Is the reply. No thanks. Say I.

After over 3.5hrs. Return to departure point. Have spent 2.5hrs longer than I thought I would. It being a glorious blue sky day. Sunny. Would be a warm 10C were it not for wind chill.

But before boarding Zodiac. Canapes. Small selection of local delicacies. Smoked Arctic Char. Biltong style Arctic Char. Caribou burger. Some sweet thing based on Arctic Char. Spicy Banana Chutney.

And.

Whale.

Two types.

Beluga Whale. White skin. Creamy coloured blubber. Delicious.

Narwhal. Black skin. Rose pink blubber. Dipped in soy sauce. Delicious.

See photos below.

Not a good read for leftie vegans is it this blog today.

General consensus amongst people I speak with is that we wouldn’t rush back to Cambridge Bay.

Dinner on board tonight. Is excellent. As usual. Trout ceviche. Brisket and risotto.

Followed by cheese and biscuits. It does come with blue cheese doesn’t it? Ask I. Yes, of course. Says waiter. We’ll call him Lurch. They’re all brilliant. But he stands out.

Cheese arrives.

Oh. No blue cheese then?

No.

They’re trying to find the key to the storeroom as ran out in the kitchen.

Ah OK. No problem.

Crack on eating the brie and Edam. Small pieces of cheese. The sort of size you would put on a mousetrap. With bits of walnut. Dried apricot. Nice end to a meal. To finish off excellent glass of wine. Just a little bit of this and that. To taste.

And then.

Nearly finished my cheese dish. Only small portions. A couple of crackers. A few nibbles of this. A few nibbles of that. A delicate dish. Small tasting portions. Just what you fancy at the end of a meal.

So.

Imagine my surprise. When. A. Told Lurch not to worry I’ll do without blue cheese. And. B. Have just about finished what I have and am replete.

When.

Lurch plonks a plate down on my table.

To which I say, a bit too loudly, “Bloody ‘ell!”

For before me is a large slab of blue cheese. The sort of 500g packet size you buy at Sainsbury’s to keep you going for a few weeks.

Delicate. It. Is. Not.

As he’s gone to the trouble of sourcing blue cheese. Feel obliged to take a few broken crumbs from the plate.

There still remains a very large chunk of blue cheese.

He’s not tuned in to the ‘delicate tasty morsels’ programme.