Shishmaref, ALASKA

Standing still, breathing in the autumn solstice. I felt the date was appropriate, to begin what I knew was the beginning of many firsts. Walking out the back door of the Nome airport, onto the tarmac, I made my way to the small, old plane, loaded up with mail, packages, non-perishable food, semi-perished fruit and vegetables, tons of varied favoured soda, my assistant, our luggage and the pilot. I sat in the lumpy, awkward seat, buckled the belt and watched as the pilot started to flip switches and press buttons. The pilot looks up slightly at one of the controls just over his head. He taps it, then he gives it a solid jab with his fist, and with satisfaction he smiles as the instrument lights up. I look out of the tattered glass window, with condensation forming at the bottom and do a quick prayer. This is my first time in the Arctic, Alaska and my first time in such a small aircraft. As the plane headed west towards the Bering Strait, I gawked shamelessly in awe of the magnificent landscape below. Hot reds, burgundy and yellow, like Dijon mustard drizzled over the mountain tops, contrasting and adjacent to deep blue waterways. I leaned my head against the glass, closed my eyes, and permit the sun to warm my face as I dozed off.

…………

The plane jerked up and down as it started its decent, and I awoke. The tundra is replaced by the dark blue arctic waters. A thin strip of land, a sandbar, approximately four kilometre in length sliced through the cold unforgiving Chukchi Sea. The town of Shishmaref is located on Sarichef Island, and lies within the Bering Land Bridge National Preserve. The island is barely six metres above sea level, with the community at one end and airstrip at the other. As we land in what feels like the ocean, the brown land and overcast skies make for dull lighting. There is nothing really, except for a sprinkle of small wooden cabins and snow mobiles lying where they were last left before the spring thaw.