Guest Arctic Survival Article ■ - i •
Whaling Means Drama, Tradition, and Daring to Coastal Eskimos
By Guy Okakok
Barrow Correspondent
Copyright. 1963. Guy Okakok
Many years ago, in the time of
my grandfather, spring drew near
and eyes watched the sun rise ear
lier and earlier. People seemed to
go about the houses more often,
visiting in the Eskimo village. Whal
ing season was near. The old rotting
oogruk skins and sinews on the
umiak frames were cut away. New
ones that had been saved during
the winter were spread out. Har
poon heads were fitted on shafts,
new lines were tested, fur clothing
was stitched then tried on.
Several men bent over a long '
drifted timber, chopping, carving,
smoothing, with tools of stone and
ivory. They worked the slab down
to a new keel.
Old Sage Advises
A village grandfather stood near
by and advised; the curve should
be marked just so and a line should
be drawn straight along this length
i of timber. Did he not tell them
’ many times to watch for the change
. of current that will bring the ice
floe into the shore? That the oogruk,
or bearded seal hides were to be
taken to the largest igloo?
Seven of them, the exact number,
saved from the very best of the
catch wore laid out on the floor, a
woman, whose husband owned the
new umiak, looked at them again
and nodded yes. She, along with
other women began to sew carefully
—a break in any seam could mean
a husband's life when a crew is fai
out from shore.
New Cover
After the women sewed the hides ,
together, the able-bodied men took
over. They laid the skin over the
umiak frame and stretched it then
lashed it to the frame. After they
finished, they took the newly cov
ered skin boat to a rack so the sun
would dry the skin, bleach it, until
it was white. _
Eskimo Author, Paul Green, Writes
About Intimate Lives of His Parents
By Paul Green
Nome, Alaska
(Paul Green is the author of the
popular book, “I am Eskimo, Aknik
My Name.”)
My daddy had two brothers and
one sister and his father was one
of the Omealik, meaning chief, or
one of the council under the big
chief.
For a long time most of the popu
lation of Kotzebue was from these
grandparents since my two uncles
and aunts have so many children
and their grandchildren have many
too. But one doesn't notice it
now, since so many people from
other villages have moved in to
Kotzebue.
My father is so much older than
my mother. He married his first
wife when my mother was a little
girl. My father's first wife left him
for another man. My father got
hurt; he couldn't walk for almost
a year so he never tried to get her
back.
When he got well, my father and
his two older brothers were good
hunters and they bought their first
guns.
Trice Of A Rifle
The whiteman would hold his
gun straight in a vertical position
and my father and iris two brothers
would lay their fox furs on top
of each other until they reached
the top of the gun. I often wonder
how those whitemen feel when
they think of those things and how
they cheated the Eskimo.
It has been known among the
old Eskimos that my father ran a
wolf down when he was young. My
mother was born to the only son
of a head chief, head Omealik we
Eskimos called it. Like any other
child, my grandfather must have
been spoiled when he took another
wife. My grandmother left him with
her two children, my mother and
her little brother, and went to
Espenberg. My grandfather sent a
dog team to get them. Thereafter,
they stayed with their grandparents
and my daddy stayed v/ith his se
cond wife and had five boys.
My grandparents loved my mother
that much because she was the only
girl of their son’s kids.
Trained
The children or grandchildren of
the chief (Omealik) are taught how
to behave and act in public so they
Will know how to take over. Even
the girls are taught. The families are
real close. The Omealik’s son can
marry any girl he chooses but the
Omealik’s daughter must marry an
other Omealik’s son. Her folks
choose a man for her. Poor thing, I
wonder if she ever loves someone
else?
So, my father was chosen for
my mother. When she was a little
girl, her grandmother died. The
■«m« summer some kind of ship
Was at Koto&bue and people got
out to trade. It was at that time
so many people from all over were
at Kotzebue as they were for years
and years.
Murder
One man from different village
got drunk and killed a poor old
lady’s only son. Both the man and
the man killed was from the same
village. People came to Grandpa
for advice. My mother was just a
little girl, hanging on to her grand
pa. Finally he took her with him to
the scene. When he got there, people
were around the dead man and his
mother. My mother said it was so
quiet. My great grandfather spoke
to the old lady and asked what
would she do. She was so old she
could hardly walk.
She said, “I have no money and
i I will starve before the winter is
I over.” The man who killed her
son got so drunk that he was just
| rolling by the beach. The head
man of the village said, ‘‘Since ho
killed once, there will be others.”
My mother's grandfather said to the
old lady, ‘‘If someone else does
what must be done for you, this
man's relatives will try to get even
with them so its up to you.”
Revenge
The old lady let some men tie
the big knife to her hands and she
killed the man who killed her only
son. After it was over, my mother's
grandfather talked to his people
and told them to throw the liquor
out, that it was not good for any
body. If he could only see what is
going on now, I wonder what he
would say?
My mother was about 12 years
old when her g'randfather died.
Many young men were at their
igloo trying to do everything to
please her mother.
When my father’s folks found out
all those men were hanging around,
my father’s folks made fancy par
kas and mukluks and gave them to
mother’s mother. My grandmother
hung them up but my father was
never around. He used to travel a
lot among other villages. He knew
my mother was still too young. She
was scared because so many young
men hung around and tried to make
eyes at her. One day when it was
getting cold, she put on a new par
ka and went outdoors to play.
The next day all the young men
left town because they knew she
belonged to my father from then
on. After she was older, my father’s
folks came to get her in style. The
big feast was on and ceremonies
took place.
A new toopick was put up. A too
pick is something like an Indian
teepee. The man’s folks furnishes
everything, not the girl’s folks. Af
ter all, the man was taking her to
support.
A year later, our oldest sister
was born. In those days the women
had babies by thesajwlves in a little
toopick or if it were winter time,
women would have the baby in a
snow igloo. Next to my brother
Johnnie was Pauline, then Eddie,
then Paul.
The Wolf Dance
My father invited the chief of
Wales for the Wolf dance. One of the
old white men was there and he
said that it was 1898.The last wolf
dance was given by my father.
The Omealik of Wales had five
wives and my sister, Pauline, was
named after his daughter so that
was why the wolf dance was given.
During the dance the Omealik
and his five wives stayed at my
folk's big tent. About that time
they had real tents which were pur
chased from the white men. The
preparation for the wolf dance
takes all winter.
Everybody in Kotzebue was sew
ing because the Omealik of Wales
wanted fancy parkas for his five
wives and for himself, a marten
parka and beaver pants with all
the trimmings. So my father had
to go to Selawik to hunt marten
and beaver.
we Knew now tnat trie dance
would take place in July. All the
Omealiks from different villages
were invited to the dance along
with their families. They were su
perstitious then and all the wives
of the Omealiks were to dance on
top of the platform with only one
drummer.
Audience
' The Omealiks were all dressed
like wolves, that is they wore wolf
headdresses. When they danced,
they put fancy things all around the
headdresses.
All the Omealiks and their fa
milies were to be inside the fence
and the other people were to watch
from the outside.
There were miners and first mis
sionaries watching it. The Omealik
of Wales’ first wife and my mother
traded clothes. My father and the
Omealik of Wales did also, and the
dance began. My mother’s brother,
Frank Mukruk, was a drummer.
Before the wolf dance began, one
of the Omealiks died but his wife
was to be at the dance. My mother
said that she could see the lady’s
tears rolling down while she kept
up with her timing.
Each lady had long fancy pole and
at the end an eagle feather. They
made each pole something like
canes but made each pole as long
as the lady that was to carry it.
Dance Banned
After the dance was over, my fa
ther asked the honored guest what
he wanted. He said some dried
fish from Selawik so the next day
my father went up to Kobukers
and Selawik people and bought
Omealik a load of dried fish, and
took it to him. They gave away 30
much when it was all over, the
(Continued on Pag* 7}’
Hunt Begins
Around in April, men appeared
from their igloos; men in mukluks
and long fur parkas. They agthered
in groups of seven or eight. An
umiak was lifted from a driftwpod
rack and put on a sled. They loaded
it with their whaling equipment and
shoved off. Men placed themselves
on each side of the canoe and har
nessed themselves with an oogi uk
rawhide thong and pulled until they
were on the edge of the water. They
placed the canoe on the ice then cut
snow blocks for shelter where they
could gather whenever they got
hungry.
Sighted Whale
Watchfulness came next. After
they finished building the snow
block shelter, they chose two or
three men from the crew as watch
men. Soon one of them near the
umiak seemed to grow stiff. Eyes
watched a point on the bay. A great
bulk emerged from the near side of
a pinnacle of ice across the water.
Cold sea water poured from its
body. Slowly the great shadow
swam toward the camp of sleeping
| crew of men.
A whale, a whale! Men watching
now hurried toward the sleeping
men. They kicked each person with
their feet, told them there was a
whale swimming toward them. The
sleeping men rolled out and in no
time at all. they were all around
the umiak. Already one men kneeled
I at the bow of the umiak, harpoon in
hand. The others were tense and
; erect around the umiak. Their hands
gripped the top railing.
une man watcnea tne wnaie. mut
i tering instructions calmly to the
others. Once the whale sounded,
the men remained stone-faced—no
smiles, no frown crossed their fea
tures. Closer now, where the dark
waters tossed before them, the
whale reappeared.
Tense Moment
Again the water rolled off the
great body. Slowly from its head,
a long, straight geyser rose in the
clear, cold morning. Then the swim
ming whale came in line with the
umiak. The waiting figures have
turned to stone.
One man who stood apart shouted
; a signal and the bowman braced
his body. He regripped the harpoon,
; raised it. At a signal, the men
lunged and the umiak moved for
ward. It plunged across the top of
the ice and shot onto the water.
White foam rippled from the bow.
The skinboat slipped over the
cold water toward the whale, then
the raised harpoon plunged into the
whale. Red blood spurted across the
splashing gray waves. The bowman
threw the walrus line fastened to
the inflated seal pokes that bobbed
up and down among the waves. The
pokes traced a path on the water
and then they were dragged under.
The Chant
Already the bowman knelt in the
umiak, his eyes closed as he seemed
to watch the empty water where
the whale had been harpooned. Then
his lips moved as his sing-song
chant echoed through the still morn
ing, an old song that asked to bring
the whale to the surface again. The
final words died into the cold air.
The bowman dipped a paddle into
the rolling water. The umiak nosed
toward the shore.
As the skin craft touched the ice.
a replacement crew quickly clam
bered in but the bowman remained.
Now the waves slapped against the
umiak as it nosed easily out to sea.
The fur-clad figures paddled with
a steady rhythm. The umiak fol
lowed the line the seal pokes made
before they were pulled beneath the
water. Swifty, their umiak nosed
nearer and nearer the swimming
whale.
Whale Taken
Again the bowmen stood balanced
in the bow. He raised his harpoon
end ptaBQBftd it deep into tbs whale’s
UV'UJ . "‘I ‘«-u WIUUU
clouded the cold gray water. The
whale lunged forward and then it
was still. Water rolled over the
black skin as it turned turtle.
The line was stretched out front
the umiak to the dead whale, fast
ened, and the slow tow toward the
shore ice began. At last on the ice,
an ancient system of walrus lines
in a rig, anchored from the ice to
the whale’s body, raised the great
bulk of the whale part way from
the water. Working from the edge
of the ice, men began cutting the
whale. Piles of blubber and meat
on the ice grew larger. A floating
remnant left from the great bulk
was dragged onto the ice.
News Heard Ashore
One man pointed across the ice,
smiling. The others turned to look.
Already, word had reached the vil
lage and the women were coming
with sleds and teams. Small, thin,
sharp knives, ulus, all of bone and
ivory, tore and sliced into the re
mainder of the whale. Finally, the
whale was cut up. The blubber and
meat had risen into great masses on
the ice. The disjointed skelton on
another pile laid on the white snow.
Fragments and sheets of tough skin
were rolled and stacked nearby. A
great, jagged smear of frozen blood
was spread over the ice where the
cutting was done.
The Haul
The sleds were loaded and the
women headed back to the village.
As they approached, the lagging
dogs ran with their tongues rolling.
The women spoke happily and they
stopped near the sod houses. Several
children tumbled from the brown
colored sod dwellings.
Children Pleased
They turned their dark eyes to
ward the meat piled high on the
sled. Smiles flashed across the
women's faces when they saw the
children. The children then strug
gled toward their homes after the
women gave them some muktuk.
Next, the women took the meat to
their meat cellars where it was
frozen to be kept fresh throughout
the summer.
Celebration
After the whaling season was over
and tlie meat all stored, what comes
next? The owner of the umiak that
killed the whale gave a big cele
bration. Already the walrus hide
toss blanket was stretched above
the ground, stovlt lines running
from each Corner.
The men and many villagers
walked to the blanket and encircled
it. A name was called and many
voices took up the name and re
peated it. Then a girl with a lovely
parka jumped into the blanket The
men heaved and she was tossed into
the air. Still laughing, she bounced
against the skin—and again they
tossed. She rose higher and higher
screaming and giggling. She was
tossed over and over, far above the
heads of the watching people.
The Feast
Women brought in slives of meat
and muktuk and gave them to all
the people. Wooden plates were
passsed from hand to hand. After
the people had their fill, they low*
ered the blanket.
Native dance followed right after.
Again a name was called. The owner
of the umiak that caught the first
whale leaped from the crowd out
in the encircled dance area. His wife
and relatives joined him and many
others came to join them. Men
danced and their women bobbed
among them. Dancing men and
women moved with strong steps. All
night they danced until they were
ready to fall.
When all had finished dancing,
the drummers laid the drums down
carefully and the leader of the dan*
cers put the drums into a sack
The people all went home happ?
and weary.