http://twitter.com/#!/bukquotes/statuses/104695826907009024
Big words, coming from a man who lived in Los Angeles most of his adult life.
Category Archives: Travel
Requiem for Resolute Bay
This is photographer Dave Brosha‘s panegyric in praise of Resolute Bay in photographs and music. Here’s a tribute to the people of the North, from one of their own.
My heart’s in a million pieces right now. Good people that I know have been taken in this tragedy. A beautiful community that I used to call home is devastated.
To the great folks at First Air, the families of those taken on Flight 6550, and the people of Resolute Bay.
Dave Brosha
Resolute Bay Crash
Resolute Bay memorial photographed by JP Newell
First Air C-GNWN by Gilbert Hechema
In the North, any tragedy is a shared tragedy, and yesterday, we shared the terrible news that First Air C-GNWN 737-210C had crashed on approach to the airport at the hamlet of Resolute Bay. For a community of only 250, this loss is nearly unimaginable.
Fortunately for the survivors, the Canadian Armed Forces were conducting exercises in the area, practicing for emergency rescues, and they were on the scene quickly, lending whatever assistance they could. For twelve people, including a little girl, it wasn’t enough. For three others, including that little girl’s sister, it probably made the difference between life and death.
http://twitter.com/#!/taudla/status/105111623332659200
http://twitter.com/#!/taudla/status/105104163112894465
The wounded have been medivac’d to Iqaluit: two flight attendants and the little girl. Operation Nanook, the training operation, has been suspended. The Governor General, who is traveling in the North, issued the following statement:
Sharon and I are deeply saddened by the catastrophe that occurred in Resolute Bay, where an airplane crashed earlier this afternoon.
Our thoughts and prayers go out to all those affected by this tragic event.
Earlier today, I had the opportunity to visit many of the Operation NANOOK military units.
I was able to witness first hand the professionalism and dedication of our Canadian Forces and civilian organizations as they responded quickly and effectively to this catastrophe.
Here is a list of accidents at the Resolute Bay airport, but it’s incomplete: I can find references to a Lancaster crash on Flickr, but there’s nothing here about it. Here is the first shot of the crash: as you can see, the plane fell significantly short of the runway, crashing in the low, rolling hills on the approach. There was a very low cloud ceiling (fog) at the time of the crash, just about 1pm. Investigators have recovered the black boxes from the plane, and will be releasing the results in due course. So far no causes have been officially suggested; as with any aircraft, the plane had a history of mechanical issues and repairs, but nothing in the recent history as far as is known would seem to have indicated a potential issue.
Resolute Bay Crash by Nicolas Laffont
There is a Facebook group set up to express condolences, and tomorrow there will be a memorial. First Air has suspended all flights out of Yellowknife, and the second floor of the Yellowknife airport has been cordoned off; First Air staff are apparently receiving grief counselling, and a Catholic priest has visited the airport.
http://twitter.com/#!/nlaffont/status/105169879895773184
http://twitter.com/#!/NL2012Ottawa/status/105121086747840512
There are more specific details, including the condition of the wreckage, on this CP post on the Huffington Post. The most up-to-date information is on Twitter, and to spare the feelings of the friends and families, most people are exercising restraint in what they post.
The Strange Range Tweetup: the aftermath
The Strange Range tweetup featuring the styling talents of the late Edward Hopper!
The Strange Range Tweetup is history; the question now is, will the Strange Range be?
YOU can help answer that question by showing up at City Hall on Monday, August 22nd, 7pm sharp, when there will be a public meeting on the bylaw to buy the entire block. Here’s the sign that was hanging by the bar; once I explained what we were there for, the bartender practically begged us to take pictures.
Strange Range Hearing Monday at 7pm
I called the tweetup to hear the stories of the Range, to get a real sense of its history and what it means to the town. Unfortunately, literally everyone else who showed up showed up for the same reason, not because they had stories to share. That’s unusual, given that some of them are lifelong Knifers.
If you have a story, even an apocryphal one, about the Range, please please please PRETTY PLEASE post it in the comments (you can use a fake name: what the hell do I care, I’m not Google+) or hunt me down in person and whisper it to me, but if you do that you’re probably gonna hafta buy me a martini to calm my nerves down, and if you REALLY alarm me, probably a couple for yourself, too, besides the wound dressing for the compound fractured arm.
But where was I? Oh yes. As you can see from the slideshow below and the pix on Flickr, we didn’t exactly have to fight for space. The crowd outside was, as the bartender pointed out, about twice the size of the crowd inside; the Range has a problem like the Carnegie Centre in Vancouver: the scary throngs that block the door and hang out on the sidewalk, looking for all the world as if they’re going to pounce on you. And they might, too.
If it didn’t get down to -40, I’d suggest putting in one of those garden-misting apparatuses to keep the entranceway clear, but it does indeed get to -40 and besides, where else are these people gonna go?
If you axe me, which I note you did not, the problem isn’t the Range: the problem is that black hole of a parking lot across the street. Clean it up, make it into a park, put on some activities there so there’s something to do other than get high or drunk, and suddenly with eyes on the street and stuff happening, it’s not such a nexus of dysfunction. As for the throngs outside the door, well, does -40 not take care of that?
So ends today’s “lessons from an uppity Southerner”. See you Monday at 7?
Vodpod videos no longer available.
Bastille Day at Le Frolic in Yellowknife
We ARE amused! Array of Amuses at Le Frolic on Bastille Day
Welcome to Yellowknife! Hope you brought a fork!
Vodpod videos no longer available.
Bastille Day at Le Frolic in Yellowknife, posted with vodpod
It’s not all musk ox bones and walrus blubber up here, ya know! Although some of it is. Some of it is even whale:
Bowhead Whale Hunt by Glenn Williams. Didja bring yer fork?
Wanna see the Food Chart the government distributes? Well, you will just have to wait till I’ve figured out how to convert PDFs to PNGs on this damn computer!
Oh, wait! GIMP to the rescue:
Om to the nom nom! The NWT Food Guide!
BACK to the future. It looks post-apocalyptic on the NWT Food Guide
Yes, that is a rat on the food chart. And seaweed. And fish bones. And a Beluga Whale. And yes, they are endangered.
I heard they had to take the chicken leg in the grocery store packaging out of the new edition, because nobody knew what it was. They eat a lot of what is called “country foods” up here: outside of Yellowknife, something like 45% of families get 40% or more of their food off the land or from the sea. You don’t have to go to the Amazon to find hunter-gatherers, and frankly having sussed out the grocery stores here I’m thinking of trying it myself.
Anyway, not all food comes off the land or the endangered species list. Some of it comes off quite elegant presentations, as you can see from the image at the top of the post. Here`s how it all happened…
So there I was back a few months ago, minding everyone else`s business on social media, as one does (if one is this one), and I found out there was an actual, honest-to-god French chef in Yellowknife. Well, naturally I thought someone was pulling my leg; as far as I know not even Julia Child would have attempted to Frenchify a hunk o’ musk ox.
Boy, was I wrong.
Le Chef Pierre doesn`t mess around. You should see what happened to the last Top Chef in Yellowknife.
Le Chef Pierre does exist, and not only does he exist, but he Follows me on Twitter, which as far as I`m concerned is truly the only authoritative signifier of meaningful existence. Naturellement. And once I`d moved up here and he found out I`d been born in France, he went ahead and invited me and my friend MoneyCoach to the Bastille Day celebration at his very civilized French restaurant, Le Frolic.
Now, as we`ve firmly established around these parts, a lot of my favorite words start with F; I don`t need to list them, do I? But the greatest of these is “Free.” Somehow, the psychic Chef Pierre sussed this out (what are the odds, eh?) and that is how I, my camera, and my best YK pal ended up freeloading our own bodyweight in steak tartare and cab sauv under the shadow of a three-story-tall red-white-and-blue model of the Eiffel Tower (where do they keep it the rest of the year?) or maybe that was just me.
Yeah, that was just me. Nancy’s a light eater, and I’m a lifelong believer in the calorie-free nature of food which you didn’t pay for.
In related news: food is also zero calorie if eaten standing up, by the light of the fridge. Very few people know that.
Well, if you flick through the Flickr pix you can see many things: bruschetta, amuse-gueules on a very snazzy steel presentation stand, a assortment of wines the list of which I had in my backpack until it rained, so sorry wine sponsors, no names in the post! and a trayfull of desserts, of which I only tried the butter tart, being a butter tart snob of the old school. Those of you who are Canuck Foodie Purists will be relieved to know that Chef Pierre is solidly of the “no nuts in the butter tarts” school. I’m glad I could take your mind off that worry. I was equally fascinated by the butter tart, as you can tell from the what, six pictures I took of it? Well, it was an uncooperative model, so I did my best. “Look up, baby! Work it! That’s it, that’s it, gorgeous, now more animalistic!” Oh, I tried my best, but the damn tart just wasn’t having it; I felt like David Bailey before he found his mojo (I understand he found it in his other pants).
Shortly after the butter tart posing session, I decided to stumble home, sated, but not before someone took me aside and whispered, “You better eat and drink your fill before the French get here. They bring big handbags, and they leave weighted down!”
Noted.
raincoaster 