When I was twenty-one I left my childhood home to embark on my first big adventure. Fresh from university I set off for the Arctic, specifically for Yellowknife, the capital of the Northwest Territories. I had been hired as an English teacher, a career I had imagined lasting well into my dotage. Life, however had other plans and my teaching career lasted all of four years. Although I loved teaching, I lacked the commitment it required, a commitment that demanded that my free time every weekend and most evenings be taken up with marking papers. I wanted a life beyond that, but without a job, how could I stay?
In the early seventies, YK as we called it, was a small city of seven thousand; a government seat, with two operating gold mines. It had a Hudson Bay store, a grocery store, two hardware stores, a lumber yard, a cinema, three cafes, five bars and a Royal Canadian Mounted Police detachment. The population was predominantly white, but the city was also home to the North’s original peoples the Dene, Inuvialuit and Inuit.
YK, I used to say, was the kind if place where you could be sharing a drink with a miner, a doctor, a ballerina, a famous author and the Commissioner of the Northwest Territories all at the same table.
The city had begun as a mining town and had been built along the western shore of Great Slave Lake. It’s inhabitants were spread out in residential areas near the gold mines and schools. Most people lived near the central downtown area where the stores and government offices were located.
A sizeable number also lived in Old Town, a short drive down a hill along the shores of Great Slave Lake and along the spine and edges of Latham Island. It was the first area settled in the early mining days and was known for its many ramshackle houses left over from that era. Beyond Latham Island was the Dene community of N’Dilo.
Before a bridge was built the only way to get to Latham and N’Dilo was by boat and that boat was operated by a colourful character named Tom who charged twenty-five cents to ferry people across. It was said he had accumulated a lot of money that way, but no one ever saw him spend it. Tom would order hot water in the local café and add ketchup to it and call it soup.
There was only one road in and out of Yellowknife, a road that stretched some one thousand four hundred and fifty-one kilometers south to the metropolis of Edmonton. To reach YK you had to cross the mighty Mackenzie River by ferry in the summer or over the ice road in winter. During the months between melt and freeze-up the city was cut off and only accessible by air.
Driving that highway in summer was often a nightmare. More than five hundred miles of it was gravel and the last ninety or so was mud. At times the ruts made by heavy transport trucks were so deep a car could not navigate them. You had to sit and wait till a grader came by to plow them flat. Even then you still might need the grader to pull you through. More than one car’s bottom was ripped to shreds in the process!
In those early days, the distance, the isolation, the precarious climate, contributed to a sense of community and togetherness. We relied on each other and when the weather turned cold and the temperature plummeted to minus thirty, you were only as safe as your furnace or wood stove. Our power came from a Hydro station 140 km northwest of the city, on the Snare River; a place we never thought about much until one winter’s day when all of YK went dark. This was no little outage and when word got out that the military were being called in to medivac us, you knew we were in trouble. I’ll tell you all about that next time.
Bonnie Dickie lives in Winnipeg, the Elm capital of Canada. In a previous life she worked for CBC in Yellowknife, NWT before moving South to freelance as a documentary filmmaker. Her work has taken her across the Arctic as well as China, Africa and Spain. Today she is semi-retired and aside from her dog walking exploits is focused on learning to play the ukulele-a talent she has yet to fully grasp.
Now I want to go to Yellowknife lol… that was such a cool story! =)
Thanks for sharing this part of your youth, and for setting a context for “the rest of the story”. Especially since the next moment seems to involve “a place we never thought about much until one winter’s day when all of YK went dark.” I’m hooked! And eagerly awaiting the next episode!!