Native expedition to the Arctic frontier

INSIDE me lurks the soul of an explorer. I love to set foot where others have not, to escape as far from urbanization as possible.

That’s why I was on this uninhabited island, not far south of the Arctic Circle, last summer.

We were cruising more than 1,000 miles north of Montreal, off the tip of Quebec province, where the Hudson Strait meets the 480,000-square-mile Hudson Bay. Henry Hudson, seeking a route to China nearly 400 years ago, explored these vast waters. His disappearance here remains a mystery.

Explorers ourselves, we were on a seven-night cruise aboard the Ushuaia, an expedition ship of Cruise North Expeditions, a new line owned by the Inuit of Nunavik Territory. The territory takes up the upper third of Quebec province and is part of the polar region that stretches through Greenland, Alaska and Siberia.

This was nowhere near a traditional cruise -- and that’s what I liked about it.

Cruise North attracted me for several reasons. The trips are shorter and more affordable than most Arctic explorations. Its staff includes Inuit, who know the land and the people. I also liked the idea of spending my money on a company that benefits the Inuit.

These cruises are not for everyone. They are for adventure-minded people who don’t care about casinos and caviar. They are expeditions, and that means there is an element of the unknown.

The 60 passengers aboard the Ushuaia traveled 1,465 miles through virgin tourism territory. Some Inuit villagers had never seen tourists, and they were as interested in what we were doing there as we were in seeing them, the seals they were dressing or the berries they had picked.

“Few white people have been here,” said Brad Rhees, our expedition leader, as we approached Mansel Island. We were the first cruise ship to call there.

The captain had no marine charts of the area, so a crew member set off in a Zodiac, a small inflatable craft, with a depth finder.

The ship anchored about a mile offshore, and we prepared to disembark. I put on knee-high galoshes, the kind I wore as a kid, and waterproof gear, clambered down a staircase hanging alongside the ship and boarded a Zodiac with half a dozen other passengers. We perched on its rim, grasping a rope and hanging on for dear life as the driver pushed the throttle and pointed our bow toward a beach -- where a polar bear stood, staring at us.

It stood where we intended to land. “He’s not a welcoming committee we want,” Rhees said.

We swung by for a look but maintained a respectable distance. Even with a 300-millimeter zoom lens, I couldn’t get a close-up of the bear, but it was easy to tell it was a hulk. Farther along, an Arctic fox scanned the beach, blending into the mottled gray shore.

The Zodiacs came as close to shore as possible, but we still had to wade about 10 feet to a rocky beach.

Our Inuit guide, Bruce Qinnuajuak, slung a rifle over his shoulder (to protect us from aggressive animals) and scouted ahead for wildlife. A large group of passengers trailed behind, hiking across the tundra beside a shallow, clear river, where Arctic char swam. The fish would be on the menu later that evening.

Mansel Island reminded me of the high plains of the Texas Panhandle: vast, nearly flat and treeless but more austere, seemingly devoid of life. Yet the tundra revealed almost hidden beauty.

When we looked closely, tiny daisies poked through the spongy, shallow layer of soil atop permanently frozen earth. Moss and lichen carpeted the ground and rocks, painting them with patches of burnt red and orange, mustard and myriad shades of green. Everything was dwarf size.

“Plants are small and stay low to reduce the drying effects of the wind,” explained Theresa Svancara, one of two naturalists with our expedition staff.

Unlike another island with steep hills that proved too tough for about half of the cruise’s passengers, Mansel was an easy hike. We explored for about two hours, passing skeletons of caribou and the skull of a wolf.

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Among the Inuit

OUR journey to wild Mansel Island had begun in Montreal, where we took a two-hour flight north to Kuujjuaq, the Nunavik governmental center and largest town in the territory with about 2,800 residents.

We had time to wander around Kuujjuaq, the first of five Inuit settlements we would visit during our cruise. Most of its streets were dirt or gravel, and it had no stoplights, only signs that say “Stop” in English and Inuktitut, the Inuit language, which uses symbols.

We took Zodiacs to our ship anchored in the Koksoak River.

The Ushuaia, an ice-class ship built for scientific expeditions, was bare bones, with five decks and cabins for 66 passengers. Cabins were about 100 square feet and most had bunk beds. It had a small lounge-bar, dining room, library and lecture room.

For the 2006 season, the company has chartered a larger ice-class ship, the 122-passenger Lyubov Orlova, which is designed with more passenger comforts and better accommodations. Neither ship has elevators.

But no one comes to the Arctic to put on the ritz. On my cruise, the passengers -- Canadians and Americans, mostly 20 to 70 years old -- wore jeans, sweaters and sweats, even at dinner.

Passengers came wanting to explore and learn. Christine Rodriguez of Glendale, who teaches at East Los Angeles College, was drawn to the cruise because the destination was different and the Inuit culture interested her: “I wanted the experience, not luxury.”

And an Inuit experience we got. For entertainment, the first night the Kuujjuaq Youth Choir in white parkas demonstrated Inuit drum dancing and throat singing. The singing imitates sounds in the environment -- the wind, birds, mosquitoes.

“The Inuit are a very spiritual people. We have a lot of respect for the land and the animals,” said Jessie Annanack, our Inuit cultural guide for the week.

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Magic show in the skies

OUR days were a mixture of explorations ashore hiking in search of wildlife or visiting villages, sightseeing by Zodiac from the ship and talks by five naturalists and historians on the expedition staff, which also included two Inuit guides.

In the evenings, the staff led a recap of the day’s activities and wildlife sightings and outlined the next day’s plans.

The dining room was small, and we ate at closely placed tables for six to 10, with simple buffets at breakfast and lunch. At night, we usually had a choice of entrees, such as grilled shrimp or stuffed pork tenderloin. The chef accommodated several vegetarians, and we had a chance to sample the Arctic char, which tastes like wild salmon.

The bridge was open to passengers. We could check the radar and charts in the navigational heart of the ship, talk to the captain and pick up binoculars to peer out windows in search of wildlife.

“It’s a rare privilege to be on the bridge. I loved to look at the charts,” said Dick Hoblin of Lockport, Ill.

We sailed north into Ungava Bay on a crystal-clear day. Classical music wafted around the bridge as we spotted a field of about 10 icebergs floating on the horizon. Two icebergs floated close together, looking like twin-stepped skyscrapers. Moments later, we couldn’t find them, and in their place were flattened chunks of ice that resembled a barge. Then they transformed again, resembling a sailboat.

“It’s the Arctic mirage,” said Captain Jorge Aldegheri, explaining that in certain weather conditions, the Arctic can fool the eyes with reflections, similar to the optical illusions in the desert.

Mirages weren’t the only magic. Late at night, when the skies were dark velvet, the northern lights, known as the aurora borealis, appeared. The phenomenon occurs as solar winds send a charge through the atmospheric gases. For several nights, we saw the eerie iridescent green swaths swiftly swirl across the sky, then evaporate.

Wildlife sometimes proved as elusive as the lights. Off Diana Island, we spotted a herd of musk ox, a large furry animal with curled horns that resembles a buffalo. By the time we got ashore and scrambled up a steep hill, the herd had moved to a distant ridge.

One morning, we spent a couple of hours in the Zodiacs searching for beluga whales. We never saw any, but a seal poked its head up from the water.

Off Cape Wolstenholme, we saw thousands of thick-billed murres, a fast-flying seabird.

Visits to Inuit villages were an experience far removed from traditional sightseeing. Communities are rustic and have few, if any, sights. Yet the people are friendly and welcoming.

At Quaqtaq, Lizzie Puttayuk caught up with a small group of us wandering around and offered fresh doughnuts made with blueberries she had picked.

A community guide led us to the school’s display about Inuit life. Pasha Puttayuk said she was proud to teach the Inuit children about their culture.

“We did not learn about our history,” she said.

Everywhere, children followed us, usually happily smiling for pictures. In Ivujivik, two young girls came up to me and asked, “Who are you?”

“I am Mary,” I replied.

They giggled and said, “Like Merry Christmas.”

At Inukjuak, Mayor Andy Moorhouse escorted us to a museum with excellent soapstone carvings and other artifacts illustrating the Inuit lifestyle. Artists had brought sculptures, baskets and other items for sale at the gym.

But I didn’t see the one souvenir I wanted -- an inukshuk pendant. The inukshuk is a rock marker shaped like a stick figure and used for centuries across the region as guideposts.

It wasn’t until the end of the cruise, in Kuujjuarapik, that I saw a tall inukshuk crowning a hill, like a final guidepost for our ship. And as I left from the Montreal airport, what did I find among the displays of Canadian goods? An inukshuk pendant.

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At sea in the polar north

GETTING THERE:

From LAX, Air Canada has nonstop flights to Montreal. American, Northwest, Air Canada, Continental and Delta have connecting service (change of plane). Restricted round-trip fares begin at $348.

THE CRUISE:

Cruise North Expeditions, (866) 263-3220 or (416) 789-3752, www.cruisenorthexpeditions.com. Cruise North is part of the Inuit-owned Makivik Corp. of Quebec.

Nine cruises are scheduled aboard the Orlova, a 122-passenger expedition ice ship, June 26-Aug. 27, with four itineraries of seven or eight nights. Most sail round trip from Kuujjuaq, Canada.

Fares are $3,595-$5,795 per person, double occupancy; some lower triple-occupancy fares are available. Included are all shore excursions and round-trip airfares from Montreal to the ship, except one cruise, which has one-way airfare. Some early-booking discounts are available until Feb. 15.

ESSENTIALS:

Cruises are not suitable for physically challenged travelers. The ship has no elevator, and excursions require wading in shallow water and walking on sometimes rough terrain. A doctor is aboard for emergency care.

Daytime temperatures are 40s-60s. Pack clothing that can be layered. Also take rubber boots, waterproof pants and a parka.

-- Mary Lu Abbott