56.5422° N, 61.6928° W

October 20, 2012

Students in the class of AVC 2013, travelled to Nain as participants on the Chinook Project. As part of the experience, the students craft various pieces of writing. No photos were submitted with this anonymous essay, photos are supplied from other trips to Nain and Postville.

The Canadian north is dramatic. The ocean is angry, the weather is extreme, the summer brings 20 hours a day of brightness, while the winter plunges northerners into perpetual darkness. No roads from the south dare to venture to the brave few who live up there. Tiny planes that shuttle passengers, food and supplies are the life line for most. Thick clouds of mosquitos will drain you dry of blood, or drive you to insanity, whichever comes first. The north is not for the faint of heart. However, if you let it, the north makes a special mark on your heart. The vast expanses of rugged and mostly untouched landscapes are nothing short of awe inspiring. From the moment I set foot in Nain, Labrador, I was engrossed in Mother Nature's drama.

53.3019° N, 60.4167° W

Beads of sweat collected on my forehead as we dragged our luggage, and boxes of medical supplies into the tiny but modern airport in Happy Valley Goose Bay. Today's high was 32 degrees with 100% humidity. Surprising weather at this latitude. After a bit of a delay, our flight arrived, fully loaded with folks from the north, venturing south in search of goods and supplies that were hard to come by in their isolated communities. The six of us, two veterinarians and four vet students, watched through a window in the airport as the passengers filed out of the little aircraft. When our call to board finally came, we made our way out onto the scorching tarmac. I tried to soak in the heat, as I knew the next week would be a cold one. Once we were aboard, the doors were shut and before we knew it we were off the ground and northbound.

56.5422° N, 61.6928° W

Even before we touched down in Nain, the northernmost community in Labrador, I was captivated by the foreign landscape that is part of this beautiful and diverse country. Our little plane bobbed and weaved just above jagged snow and moss covered rocks that jutted from the foamy, dark blue sea. It began to sink in that I was venturing into the Canadian north. We hadn't even touched down yet and I was already blown away by this rugged northern landscape. The waves of nausea from the shaky flight were pushed down by the excitement of experiencing the new terrain that lay ahead. When we finally landed uneventfully on the little dirt strip, we were greeted by several friendly faces, then piled into the back of a pickup and whisked away to a town hall meeting. The sky was abysmally gray, there was a cold bite in the air and a heavy fog rolling in over the ancient, worn-down mountains, typical June weather in Nain. As we drove toward the town hall, I caught my first glimpses of the tiny town of Nain. The sandy streets were lined by meek and somewhat run down houses. ATVs or “quads” as they were called, buzzed around carrying whole families to their destinations. The town was situated at the foot of mountains that had been made smooth by the elements over thousands of years. It abruptly gave way to Unity Bay, a large inlet of the Atlantic Ocean. Fishing boats lined the harbor, waiting for their chance to brave the waters in search of Arctic char. Although it had only been a few hours since we left the stifling heat in Happy Valley Goose Bay, it now seemed like a hazy, distant dream. I felt as if I had been transported to another time, where man, land and sea coexisted in a harmonious relationship of give and take. Where Mother Nature demanded respect, and in return offered sustenance and awe inspiring beauty. However, on this particular day, Mother Nature seemed a bit on the cranky side. Her harmonious relationship with the people of the north is founded on some pretty tough love.

Our arrival in Nain set the tone for our short visit to the north. It gave me a deep sense of peace to see a place that is still so wild, untouched and naive. In the days following our arrival, the fog would lift, the sun would peak out to warm us, the bay would become still and smooth as glass, and we would see the softer side of the north. Both the gentle and the harsh side of the north are what make the landscape, as well as its people so special and helped to shape my trip into an incredible experience I'll never forget.