As ice melts, the Inuit strive to keep their culture alive

Amid a warming climate and disappearing traditional knowledge, Inuit communities in the
Canadian Arctic are grappling to adapt.When sea ice ages, the salt sinks into the ocean, leaving
fresh, drinkable water on top. Charlotte Naqitaqvik collects a teapot of water at her family’s
hunting camp in Nuvukutaak, near the community of Arctic Bay in northern Canada.

In the spring, when animals migrate north and the sun never sets, Inuit children join their
families on weeks-long camping trips across Canada’s Arctic. They’re taught hunting skills and
cultural values passed down for more than 5,000 years. In the past three decades, multiyear ice,
the thickest (and oldest) type that supports the Arctic marine ecosystem, has declined by 95
percent. Elders no longer can predict safe travel routes on thinning ice, and animal migration
patterns are changing. The future of the ice—and those who live on it—is uncertain.

Left: Wearing a parka sewn by her mother, Ashley Hughes spent her 10th birthday camping with
friends and family at Ikpikittuarjuk Bay. Hughes took part in the Inuit community’s annual ice
fishing competition for arctic char.

Right: Seal hunting is an essential part of life for the Inuit. The skin, like this one from a recent
kill, will be turned into outerwear. Passing on knowledge of hunting and food procurement helps
communities survive a changing climate.

A break in the sea ice means a carefully orchestrated crossing for Olayuk Naqitarvik, pulling his
grandson in a qamutik, or sled, packed with supplies for a family camping trip. Despite being ill
and frail, Naqitarvik’s wife, Martha, insisted on taking part to relay her deep knowledge of living
off the land to the next generations.

Left: Logan and Edmond Willie, 15-year-old twins, hunt snow geese by the light of the midnight
sun at their camp in Nuvukutaak.

Right: Swaddled in an amauti—a parka with a built-in baby carrier—Spencer joins his mother,
Clara Itturiligaq, on a fishing trip.

Tagoonak Qavavauq, an Inuit elder, teaches children how to make a bread called bannock on a
school field trip. Ancestral knowledge about how to survive on the frigid land is disappearing
with the elders. Many are determined to pass down traditions, particularly to children whose
families no longer hunt or go camping. Learning how to live with limited resources is key to
survival at a time when food insecurity and poor nutrition are increasing problems in Inuit
communities.

Left: Lloyd Willie takes a break from hunting inside his family’s tent at Nuvukutaak, an old
outpost near the edge of the sea ice.
Right: Tootalik Ejangiaq enters her tent at the annual spring camp where she helps young people
learn traditional Inuit skills.

A trail of blood leads to the Naqitarvik family celebrating a young woman’s first ringed seal
catch.

Left: Marie Naqitarvik, 30, wasn’t taught extensive hunting or camping skills as a child. She
learned after marrying a professional hunter. Now they hunt with their children on ancestral
lands in spring.

Right: Darcy Enoogoo, 36, and his wife, Susan, take off work each year to bring their children
on seal hunting trips. The ringed seal has vitamin-rich meat, fat that burns well, and skin to turn
into warm clothing.

Darcy Enoogoo pulls a toy snowmobile for his daughter, Alana, during a tea break in their nine-
hour journey to a fishing lake.

Left: Owen Willie, 18, hunts snow geese on his family’s remote camp in the Canadian Arctic.
Willie joined the camping trip shortly after his high school graduation and spent the spring
tracking the goose migration.

Right: Winter clothing made from caribou skin keeps Valerie and Michael Qaunaq warm, while
their three-year-old son, Joshua, stays bundled up in an outfit made from a harp seal.

efore a camping trip, a homemade tent dries on the sea ice in Nunavut.