Rankin Inlet is 2,712 kilometers away from Halifax. It is a tiny town perched on the edge of Hudson's Bay, and as one might expect, it is very very cold.
As part of Operation NANOOK-NUNALIVUT 2020, I was flown directly from Halifax International to the tiny single strip airport at Rankin Inlet. I was accompanying a group of CAF divers from several units across Canada, and a dozen other participants from Finland, France, and Belgium.
Our task was simple. With the help of the Defense Research and Development Canada staff, we would drill a hole in 5 feet of ice, and conduct ice diving operations. For many, it was their first time in the North, and for most it would be their first time diving under ice. Life in the north is a daily struggle, and to assist us, we were privileged to have the help of the Canadian Rangers.
The Canadian Rangers, known for their trademark Red hoodies and baseball caps, are a unique branch of the Canadian Armed Forces. Mostly indigenous people, they are the eyes and ears of the north, providing surveillance and sovereignty patrols in areas that the regular force cannot. In addition, they are some of the toughest, most resourceful people you will ever meet, that truly embody the rugged spirit of the Arctic.
By northern standards, our accommodations were luxurious - two cots per room, with hot water and showers. The building, called the 'PAB' was built on stilts as many in the north are, to avoid construction issues with the permafrost. Food was standard military rations; it was enjoyable to watch the foreign military personnel comparing the food with theirs.
The cold and wind were relentless most days. The PAB was not far from the dive site, but even the roughly 1 kilometer walk felt like a serious challenge, with cold air cutting through every piece of clothing and threatening frostbite in minutes. At times the daily high was -35 celcius, with a windchill into the -50's. It felt like another country - or perhaps another planet, barren and inhospitable.
The Rangers helped begin the dive site preparations with their own ice drilling augers. These managed to just barely punch through the roughly 5 feet of ice, giving the DRDC personnel somewhere to start.
Setting up the tents and heaters on the flat, frozen plain of the bay was no easy task, as manual dexterity disappears rapidly in such freezing conditions. Breath quickly turns to ice in face masks, and even eyelashes and eyelids freeze. For many of the international visitors, this was their first time experiencing such frigid temperatures, but to their credit they soldiered on.
All transportation to and from the dive site was carried out by means of snowmobiles - or 'machines' as the locals vaguely call them. Snowmobiles are the most common method of transportation in the winter months, and the Rangers use them to cross vast distances between towns, cutting over frozen lakes and through forsaken tundras. There are no roads in or out of Rankin Inlet.
While the finishing touches were applied to the dive site, a solitary figure further out on the ice plain caught my eye. A signaler was testing a High Frequency man-pack set. Using just the 3 meter whip antenna he was able to talk with staff at Resolute Bay over 1000 kilometers away. The photo I took illustrates another remarkable fact: due to the constant ice crystal haze, I was able to place the sun directly in my frame without massively underexposing the rest of the shot. This is extremely unusual for a photographer. That said, you are nearly able to look right at the sun, as it seems very weak, and does not ever rise fully into the sky, skirting around the horizon instead.
Once diving operations began, I was amazed at the immediate display of camaraderie and professionalism that the divers from all nations displayed. By nature, diving is a fairly serious endeavor, and safety is paramount. Within no time, you saw international partners helping prepare equipment that they had just learned to use a week earlier. The atmosphere was warm and lighthearted, as divers clearly share a bond which transcends national borders.
The actual dives themselves were very simple - 15 minutes underwater at a maximum depth of 15 meters. There was little to see in the frigid waters other than the occasional ice crab or jellyfish. Using a go-pro set to the time-lapse function, I was able to snap a few photographs of the divers as they operated near the ice shelf.
*Click on arrows to scroll through images*
For every diver down, there are several support personnel working with them. The divers remain in communication with the surface, and even have cameras mounted to their helmets which display what they are looking at. This allows the dive supervisor (called supe by most divers) to keep a close watch on the progress of the dive.
Sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after a week and several consecutive days of straight dives, the inevitable tear down began. A day later, we were on board the Globemaster once again, on our way back to Halifax.
I'll never forget my brief foray into the Arctic. Everything about Rankin Inlet was alien and unusual, in stark contrast to the wonderfully warm, friendly inhabitants we met. The land was bitterly cold and inhospitable, but starkly beautiful. From the vast ice vistas to the towering aurora, the North is truly an experience to treasure forever.
