Living Off of the Land and Waters in Nunatsiavut
Frey Blake-Pijogge
The blues of the water reflect onto the siding of the white panels of the speedboat. I squint my eyes looking out at the sea while the sunlight bounces off of the surface of the waters. The sea salt that engulfs the speedboat makes it easy to take a breath of fresh air in. The wind howls through my hair and makes the tips of my ears cold. The sound of the engine is steady as my uncle Manasse drives the boat. The waves hitting the bottom of the boat create a melody that I did not know that I would look back on in nostalgia.
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The laughter from my brothers Sidney and Noah with my aunt Liz and her daughter Melanie rise above the sounds of the waves and the engine. I get out of my seat and move closer to them to ask what they are laughing about. Looking back, I cannot really remember what they were laughing about, but when they told me, I was laughing too.
To be eight years old again, living in Nain, Nunatsiavut, and having no worries in the world as a child is a time in my life that I hold dear to my heart.
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My aunt Liz and my uncle Manasse have taken my brothers and me out on the land and on the water many times while we lived in Nain. So much so that I cannot count the times where we have went egging, hunting, fishing, and checking the fishing net with them.
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This day we are going off in speedboat to go egging. For context, in my culture, in the springtime and into the summer, one leaves the community to travel to small islands to gather gull or duck eggs to eat.
The blues of the sea match with the bright cerulean blue of the skies which make the greens of the trees that are atop the hills that we come across contrast, making the colours bold and vibrant. The colours of nature back home are livelier than the nature in New Brunswick. The trees, the land, the mountains, the ocean, the moss, the bushes, the animals from land, the animals and fish from the waters, and what seems like to be everything under the sun is bright and breathtaking.
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The speedboat slows, humming to a quieter buzzing. My brothers and I stop talking to look around to where the boat has stopped. My uncle Manasse looks to us kids, “tighten your life jackets,” he says.
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My uncle and my cousin Snowden find big rocks along the shore to tie rope to the boat, anchoring the boat to the island. Snowden helps everyone out of the boat from the shore while my uncle Manasse helps from inside the boat.
The small rocks that form a beach on this island crunch under my feet as I jump from the speedboat. I look around the beach and find small purple flowers that adorn the grass. Sidney runs to the top of the rocks that make the island. “The last one up here is a rotten egg,” he says.
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Sidney runs out of sight; the rocks make a cliff that I cannot look over to see him. Noah looks at me and quickly starts to make his way around the beach, through the tall grass, and also out of sight. I race my cousin Melanie as we follow Noah. The tall green grass prickles our faces and necks, and laughter of joy that only a kid can make fills the air.
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I cannot remember who was the last one to make it up to the top of this particular island. But I do remember how I was not the so-called rotten egg that day.
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The sun is high in the sky and the waves are steady crashing against the island of rock. My aunt Liz each gave us a half of an egg carton box, “Only take the eggs that are ripe ‘kay?” she says.
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Now the real competition is on. Sidney, Noah, Melanie, Snowden, and I all make a silent agreement that finding the eggs the fastest was a race.
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In the dips that make the island, the nests of gulls are placed in a somewhat sheltered rough terrain that is covered with grass and purple flowers. The green moss and white lichen cover the greys and blacks of the rocky terrain.
The feeling of rough lichen and the grain of rock that make the island are perfect for climbing in the crevices, my fingertips grip onto it for support.
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Now, when you are egging – you watch out for seagulls in the sky. And also, for ducks, just in case you may come across a duck nest. This is more of a second thought when you are a child.
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If I went egging today, and I plan to the next time I am in Nain, I do believe I would not have the same bravery against the gulls or ducks. Now I know about bird diseases and all that stuff. I also now realize that I cannot remember the name in Inuktitut of the action of egging, as it is a cultural way of gathering for food.
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I have not been to Nain since I was 10 or 11 years old. But when I introduce myself to new people I meet, I say I am from Goose Bay, Labrador, but also from Nain. Funny how that works.
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To travel to Nain from Goose Bay on a twin otter, it is about $1, 000. And on the boat that makes it way along the coast of Labrador, it is around $250 last time I checked. The cost of things were not on my mind at all, as I was eight years old. It makes me wonder how my parents afforded anything growing up.
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Living in any northern community, everyone knows that the prices of food and living are skyrocketing and unfair, which is why it is important for those who live on the north coast of Labrador to hunt and live off of the land.
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This is particularly important for the people of Nain as research done by Nutrition North Canada in late 2023 to see where the highest food prices in the country was, Nain was at the top of the list in all of Canada.
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The sound of my brother Noah yelling, “I found some! I found some eggs – come over here!” catches my attention. I leave one of the many dips in the rock of an island to go see.
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As I crawl up and around the jagged rock, there are miniature baby pink and white flowers that are growing in the patches of dirt and grass that catch my eye. I rip some of those out and carry them with me.
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“Come grab some of these – there is enough for me and you,” Noah says with a big grin on his eight-year-old face. He holds up a pale brown egg that has darker brown spots on it to my face.
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I gently take it from his hand to hold it in my own. “Hold it up to your ear and shake it a little bit,” Noah says to me. He picks up another from the nest of grass. He and I in sync, both hold an egg up to our ear and shake it ever so gently.
The sound of the egg inside moves quietly. I smile, and he matches it with one of his own.
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“Twins! Wherever you are – we are going to leave you’s!” The wind carries my aunt Liz’s shouts from another part of the island.
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Noah and I both laugh, putting the eggs in our hands and the two other eggs from the nest into our cartons. I still hold the pink and white flowers in my hand, deciding to place these where the eggs once were, and Noah nods his head.
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We both make our way up the rocky terrain, in some parts crawling and climbing up and around the island.
The sun is beaming into my eyes, I squint while making out the outlines of my family getting ready to leave on the shore. Once we come into view of the rest of our family, we hold our cartons up to show what we found.
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Our brother Sidney from the speedboat laughs and holds up his carton in his hand to show us his. As the gravel crunches under our feet, our uncle Manasses hands us each a red lifejacket.
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My uncle holds onto the green rope that ties the boat to the shore in his hands. Steady and surely the waves rock the boat. Once the clips are fastened on our lifejackets, he hoists me up into the boat, and then does the same for Noah.
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“Start the boat now,” he says to Snowden. The rip of the engine in one try makes all of us holler at him and laugh in excitement. My uncle Manasse then pushes the speedboat from the shore, his rubber boots allowing him to walk into the water to push the boat far enough to not be run aground.
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He jumps in easily, a life’s worth of doing this action keeps him steady on his feet. He takes his place at the rear of the speedboat and takes over from Snowden at the engine.
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The slow reverse of the boat leaving the shore of this island allows for a scenic view of the rocky terrain that we were just on.
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As we make our way back to Nain, there is no hiccups, just the sound of the engine of the speedboat. My brothers, Melanie, Snowden, and I are tired out from a days' worth of egging. I cannot remember how many islands we visited that day, but I do know that we all got two eggs each.
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I sit at the front of the boat with Sidney. I look at him and he takes small rocks out of his hoodie pocket to show me. They are all white and shiny, some perfect circles and others are square. He gives me the smoothest, and whitest rock that shines the most in the sun, and I smile while putting the rock into my pocket.
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Coming around the bay, Nain comes into view. The red, blue, and white houses that adorn the road to the airstrip are easy to make out. The dock looks small, but I can make it our as I see the boats that are docked. The rest of the community is on an incline, with Nain hill as a background. It seems so far away, yet we get closer as the engine powers its way against the waves that now have white caps. I feel safe in these waters, knowing my uncle Manasse has us in his boat.
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The sun beams down into my eyes and I grab the sunglasses from the bag and put them on. The water sprays onto Sidney and me; we laugh together. He tries wiping that water off his clothes and to no avail, it does nothing to dry him.
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The cold wind bites at my ears and makes my hair flow with it. With the smell of sea salt filling my senses, there is no worry in my mind that my brothers and I will have a good meal later while we tell our mum about our day.