Shadow Me follows Savik Crew on the fall bowhead hunt

Those who followed me through my surgery, the complications, emergency surgery, multiple hospital stays and long periods of at-home convalescence that followed, will recall the occasional appearances of Shadow Me. It was not that many weeks ago when Shadow Me followed me on a slow, painful walk around the outside of my house. A bit later, we climbed Wards Hill together. As hills go, Wards is small and gently sloped, yet it felt like a major accomplishment. He followed me on slow, easy, walks through mud puddles (I didn't go into the puddles, but Shadow Me did).

And then one day he followed me on a bicycle ride. Wow! Shadow Me felt like he had really made a major accomplishment. Shadow Me and I both had an invitation to follow the Nuiqsut hunters in late August/early September to Cross Island, where they stage their fall bowhead hut, not far offshore from Prudhoe Bay.

We both desperately wanted to go, but I still had an ugly open hole in my tummy about three inches long and an inch and a half wide and, with Margie's help, had to change the dressing on it twice daily. And little things caused me significant pain.

Still, as August neared its end and the Nuiqsut hunters prepared to go, I almost did it. "Go!" said Shadow Me. "I'm getting tired of this placid, sedentary life." But I know how rough it can get in those little boats when the wind blows, the waves build and the water turns choppy. Those who loved and cared about me said - "don't go. You're not ready." Inside, I knew they were right.

So I didn't go. I stayed home. And so did Shadow Me.

Roy Ahmaogak long ago gave me the open invite to join him and Savik Crew whenever I could. The crew was originally started decades ago by his father, Lawrence Savik Ahmaogak, most often called Savik, the Iñupiaq word for knife. Savik is 78 now, going on 79, has suffered through recent surgeries of his own and has made his son Roy and his nephew, Richard Glenn - who is also Savik, co-captains in his stead.

Come 5:00 AM Monday morning, I was ready to go, but just before the time came, I almost backed out. The hole in my tummy has closed, but it is still healing. It is ugly to look at, has scabbed over four or five times now and appears to be building a new, cellophane-like scab. When I had flown here on Alaska Airlines just two weeks earlier, I had been assigned to a seat in front of the exit row. The seat back would not recline and the pressure of the seat back pushing my wound against my belt buckle left me in real pain for two days afterward.

Yet - that was two weeks earlier. I had improved in that two weeks - a lot, I was certain. I decided I could do it. I hoped it would not get rough out there - but it did - and it didn't hurt me. Not only did I get through it, I enjoyed every moment of it - even those moments when I worried that I and my cameras might get pitched off the roof of the cabin into the ocean. In fact, I think the hunt, the rough water and the bouncing somehow made me stronger, more healed now than I would have been had I not gone.

During those moments when he would appear, like this one yesterday afternoon when the hunt reopened after Point Hope transferred four unused strikes to Barrow, I could see how much Shadow Me enjoyed it, too. 

For those who might be wandering, I have not yet done any picture editing of the past week's activities. I might wait until I get home and then do a little story later on. It seems like a waste of time to do a serious picture edit when I am in the field. It takes at least twice as long on my laptop here as it does on my desktop at home, I can't see the pictures nearly as good on the small laptop screen as I can on my Apple Cinamascreen and there are other things out here I can do with that time that I can't do at home.

On the other hand, I might just get driven, and do it this weekend and get a post up by Monday. I kind of doubt it. I think it will have to wait until I leave my Arctic Slope home and return to my other home in Wasilla. But I might. We will see.

But I don't think so. So please don't get your hopes up just yet. 

Comments

[Deb Shontz]

I'm so glad that you are healing enough to join the crew and start your new project! I look forward to seeing future pics of the 2012 fall whaling season, content to be patient and wait.I remember well, those slow Barrow satellite internet speeds! ITMT, I can leaf thru the Gift of the Whale and remember other whaling seasons. Sis Bev & I served lunch in Anchorage today, and thanks to Bro-In-Law Sambo, we ate our fill and still have enough to make pickled muktuk & tongue! Cheers!

[Fiona]

I'm so glad for you and Shadow You, Bill! It's wonderful to think of you both out there on the waves in one of the places your heart calls home.