by Barbara Kilvert
But there are still people there — altogether about 335 (272 Eskimos and 63 others) from the peak of 600-odd — and there is still an air of activity in this settlement on the Western rim of Hudson Bay. The number of school teachers and other government officials there has actually increased in the last few years and even though the staff has been reduced at the trim Hudson’s Bay Company Northern Store, it remains a busy focal point in the community.
The North Rankin Nickel Mine went into production in 1957; closed in 1962. Government officials, even before the closure, recognized the problem of the area which has limited natural resources — not enough to sustain the population in the immediate vicinity.
An economic survey of Keewatin was made, projects suggested, relocation schemes studied. Welfare assistance became imperative but now, in 1965, a visitor can sense a growing optimism among its inhabitants, both Eskimo and white. The general consensus of opinion: the Government is trying every feasible plan to provide money earning and morale-building projects for the people of this barren land. Welfare payments have been cut dramatically as the new enterprises gain momentum.
With G. L. Thompson as area administrator of the Department of Northern Affairs and Ron Milligan as projects officer, one of the newer schemes has been the development of the handicraft program under Claude Grenier. In the old mine bunk house, aside from the engineering office, the mess hall for single men, the hospital and the recreation hall for the community, there is space for a sculpture room, a ceramics room, a sewing area and other handicraft sections.
About eighty of the local Eskimos are enrolled in the program, and receive payment every week for the work they have done. Women sew duffel mitts, socks, parkas, slippers and other items, most of which are made up in their homes where they can carry on their normal domestic duties.
The men do soapstone carving and make artifacts from antlers, bone or ivory. Newest project, and Mr Grenier's specialty, is in the field of ceramics. One small kiln is now available and another larger one is promised. Although this is a new departure for Eskimo craftsmen, with the introduction of an unfamiliar material, the pottery birds, heads and figures (not on the market as yet) can still be considered as valid Eskimo expression.
The latest plan for this area involves the possibility of a limited tourist industry. According to Mr Milligan, accommodation could be found for about thirty sportsmen a week who might spend part of the time in Rankin Inlet and part at Baker Lake, scaling and fishing. This would help the economy through the payment of guides and rental of sports equipment, increase of local handicraft sales and other allied items.
In an effort to disperse some of the population, eleven houses have been moved from Rankin Inlet 120 miles north to Daly Bay and these now furnish accommodation for workers who arc starting production on canned arctic char. Some of the other former mine employees have gone 55 miles south to Whale Cove where a government-sponsored whale meat canning plant has been set up.
Attractively labelled 20-ounce cans of this white whale (beluga) product — muktuk sausage, whale muktuk, and whale meatballs — sell for 49 to 65 cents in the well-stocked self serve grocery section of the H B C store, and according to the manager, Gordon Harkness, there is a heavy demand for the commodity.
People seem to eat well in Rankin and, on the whole, appear well dressed — especially the children, as most of each month’s family allowance is laid out for special clothing and food for the typically indulged Eskimo youngsters. And there is always a little left for a treat. The newest craze is for the grinning children, in their peaked parkas, to sport tiny black plastic Charlie Chaplin moustaches.
The store offers a wide range of merchandise that combines a selection of both “traditional” and “newfangled” items: light bulbs and oil lamps, traps and electric fans, embroidery beads and Barbra Streisand records, washboards and electric washing machines, fruit-flavoured lipstick and sled steels. One can choose the “luxury” foods: TV dinners, peanut butter, imported cookies, olives and canned shrimp, or the more important staples: baby food, lard, tea, flour, pilot biscuits.
Even hair colouring products are available and at least one local inhabitant has tried them out. Annie, a young Eskimo girl, seems to have been swayed by the advertising claim that ”blondes have all the fun”. Her new and glittering peroxide coiffure is set off by the addition of harlequin sunglasses and a costume that consists of a short cotton dress, patterned leotards and the more traditional sheepskin kamiks (soft boots) and Eastern-Arctic-style parka in which she carries her brunette, liquorice-eyed infant.
Motorized toboggans are popular purchases even though the initial outlay is heavy — $775 — and in front of the store, in an improvised and snow-banked “parking lot”, as many as half a dozen of these may be seen at a time. The once-familiar dog team is rapidly becoming a thing of the past in the Arctic as the Eskimos find the ski-equipped machines faster and, in the long run, cheaper to operate. As a sign of the changing times, the rutted village trail now boasts a traffic warning: Speed Limit 15 Miles Per Hour.
The people of the settlement enjoy certain creature comforts that are still not evident in all Northern communities; some, such as regular mail service and shipments of frozen fresh meat, are made available because of the weekly commercial air flights.
Residents send telegrams “outside” by means of the store manager’s three daily “skeds” to Churchill. They attend regular meetings of the Rankin Community Association; find the 50-cent ticket money for the twice-a-week movies held in the recreation hall and happily use the free shower and washing machine facilities in the new community bath house. (Although the people of Rankin live in permanent wooden houses, there is no plumbing in the Eskimo Village.)
So although the mine stands deserted — a mute reminder of high-living times — life continues at Rankin Inlet, and at a reasonably brisk pace.
Any of the old-timers will tell you: “We always knew the mine would produce for only a certain period but nevertheless it was not possible to prepare the Eskimos psychologically for the completion of operations. They had been trained in new work. They had adjusted to a new way of life with good wages. They had come from various other centres to live here. And it was a shock to them to have the mine close, the payroll cease.
”A few trained workers went on to the mines at Deception Bay, at Lynn Lake in Northern Manitoba, and at Yellowknife. But the majority stayed in the area. Some trappers went back ‘on the land’ at Chesterfield Inlet and Repulse Bay, Whale Cove and Southampton Island.
”But there is not enough game to support everyone. The only answer must be to develop new ways for the people to earn money. We all know welfare assistance is not the answer. It’s demoralizing. There are stipulated amounts for groceries, for fuel, for clothing. There is no freedom of choice of purchase.
”It’s good now to see such things as the handicraft project begin to pay off, and in fine round figures too. Go into the Hudson’s Bay store any Friday morning, after the DNA people have made the weekly payment to the handicraft workers. You’ll see the Eskimos lined up to cash their cheques. It’s their money. They’ve worked for it. They can and do spend it as they wish. And with pride.”
This article was originally published in the Summer 1965 issue of The Beaver.