THE CAMP - In a matter of a few hours, the men set up black tarps as windbreakers, turned the skinboats on their sides to form a half circle, like an arena. Around the whale bones, the whaling crews put plywood on the ground to cut the whale's flippers.

ZIPLOCS AND SALMONBERRIES - One item everybody showed up with was Ziploc bags. George Kingik and Helen Anderson enjoyed the berries on the spot.

A DELICACY - Fermented whale meat and donuts were on the menu at Point Hope's whaling feast.

BLESSINGS - Whaling captain Eunice Lane blessed the food, thanked her crew for the gift of the whale and all the visitors who came from Kotzebue, Selawik, Noatak, Nome, Brevig Mission and Kivalina.

TOSSING GIFTS - The blanket toss is done by young mothers who gave birth to sons in the past year. As they get tossed up into the air, they throw candies, furs, blankets and material to a group of older ladies.

WORKING TOGETHER - Part of the whaling feast is the blanket toss. It takes about 40 people holding on to the blanket made of the ugruk skins taken from the whaling skinboat.

PICNIC ON THE BEACH - Point Hope Mayor Martin Oktollik, his wife Carrie and granddaughters Emily (left) and Lilliann (right). Oktollik instills a sense of tradition and understanding of their ways to the young girls. (Photo by Amy Flaherty)

Over night a cold north wind had chased away the blanket fog that seemed permanently wrapped around Lisburne Peninsula village of Point Hope. The sun shines and doesn't seem to move. Time stands still, three days blend into one. Far off in the distance, beyond the last remaining snowbanks and the rotting sea ice, in the distance the Lisburne Hills tower over the tundra plains.

In the village called Tikigaq, translating into 'pointer' because of the shape of the sandspit pointing into the ocean, there is no sign of green. Coarse sand and pebbles cover the ground and only few tiny plants are courageous enough to push through the gravel. In the air the salty sea scent mingles with the sweet and strong smell of fermented whale meat.

Today is Father's Day, the first day of the Qagruk or whaling feast. And it is a day of grieving because news of 13 year-old Josie Frankson's death reached the village. She died in a hospital in Anchorage of her injuries sustained in a head-on 4-wheeler collision. Despite the two completely juxtaposing emotions of celebrating the life-giving gift of the four whales while mourning the loss of a young girl, the people dug deep into their vast reservoir of faith and carried on.

The day started out in church, where nearly the whole village came together to pray, to grieve, to give thanks and spiritually prepare for the next two days of celebration. Everything is done with prayer, even the beginning of the hunting season. Says Carrie Oktollik, "Whaling season started with three bishops coming to town for a visit. The hunters brought paddles to church in order to have them blessed." The veil between the seen and unseen, beliefs and so-called reality appeared especially thin today.

Ancient traditions are not subject to question or analysis - they are obeyed and respectfully repeated. Whalers in Point Hope strongly believe in the connection between their behavior on land and their whaling success. And this spring's whaling success makes them proud because it confirms that their prayers are heard that their ancient way of life will go on for one more year. It's all about the intricate net of relationships between humans and the world around us. The relationship between hunter and whale reflects the relationship between man and woman, husband and wife. More than once came the remark from men such as Rex Rock that "Like my grandpa used to say: 'I'm just the tool'" in the hunt. It's the women who maintain the spiritual connection.

Rex Rock's mother and whaling captain Elijah Rock's wife Dorcus knows. Her petite physique stands in sharp contrast to her intense powerhouse energy; her strength and extraordinarily sharp perception and the ability to look right through the subject of her attention is almost intimidating. Like a teenager, Dorcus' long white hair is pulled up into a ponytail; there is dried blood under her fingernails from stirring for the second time today mikigaq or fermented whale meat. Like everybody else in her family clan, she's busy and hasn't slept in days but still finds time for a cup of coffee and a conversation.

In addition to being a tribal healer, she's been a whaling captain's wife for over 30 years and explains the code of conduct - not only during the time of whaling, but year around. In a matter-of-factly manner she says, "You have to be pure in the sense that you behave in a compassionate, sharing and caring manner. If you don't, then the whales won't come around, or are too far away or just don't come close to the boats." Furthermore, speaking in a firm voice, she continues that she had to make sure that widows and elders are cared for, that meat is shared with ladies who have no husbands or sons to hunt for them. Finally, she says, the wife is the spiritual connection to the whale.

The whaling feast revealed many different layers, from the light-hearted celebration and feasting to tearful praying and giving until there is no more to give. On the surface, one could choose to see only the quaint custom of putting the boats on racks, arranging the oars in a neat and photogenic manner and passing out the mikigaq at a fun community picnic. But as the village gathered in both whaling camps, the Qagmaktuuq Qalqi (clan) on the east side and the Unasiksikaaq Qalqi on the west side of town, the feast set the stage for a metaphysical excursion into a different world of beliefs. Drummer, singer and village historian Ernie Frankson explained that most of the rituals, dances or customs came directly from the whales. For example, the cleaning out of the cellar - the wives scrub the cellars for the new meat to be stored - is done because "the whale watches us from the ocean and when he decides to give his life and take off his parkie for us, then he wants to rest in a clean place." Also, the tradition to leave the whale's skull in the ocean originates in the belief that the whale's spirit - when taken in spring time - remains with the whaling captain's family and will leave the family as soon as the whales come swimming by in fall again on their southward migration and the spirit "puts on a new parkie and joins the pod again."

On this first day of the feast, of course after blessings and prayers, both camps gave out mikigaq, donuts and coffee. The villagers gathered around the boats, sat in a wide circle on the beach gravel. Some brought reindeer hides, most just sat with outstretched legs on the ground, but all came with coolers, plastic bags and Ziploc bags, gathering as much meat and goodies as they could possibly carry. Some of the meat was immediately consumed on the spot. Producing ulus and salt out of the coolers, young and old savored the taste of the precious whale meat, smiling happily. One old lady named Daisy from Kotzebue could hardly walk, her hearing totally failed her, but her whole beautifully wrinkled face was one big smile as she pointed to her paper plate of mikigaq and said in a quavering voice, "Whale meat, hmmmmmmm, I don't get that in Kotzebue. I'm so happy."

The whaling crew's women distributed the meat equally, making sure that everybody, including the visitors, got enough to take back home with them. "Even if you don't like the mikigaq, gather plenty and give it to the elders," recommended Carrie Oktollik, the mayor's wife and postmaster of Point Hope. The congregation scattered as fast as they had gathered just an hour ago. After all the meat was given out, whole families climbed back on their 4-wheelers and drove off home, leaving streaming clouds of dust behind.

The village laughed and cried at the same time. The sun betrayed the passing of time and what seemed to be midday was late evening, there was a singspiration for the dead girl. The women sang for hours into the night that was no night. Tomorrow the feast was to continue with the ceremonial cutting of the whale's flippers, giving the slices of muktuk away and cleansing the crews of the whale oil by doing the blanket toss.
Part III next week