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IQALUIT - An Iqaluit man who was stranded on the land for nearly two days last month after his snowmobile got stuck says he was overwhelmed by the response of the community's search and rescue volunteers to whom he was a complete stranger.

"It's humbling and awe-inspiring," said Mark McCormack. "I really owe those guys a lot. All the credit goes to them. They really worked hard and did what they had to do. Those support networks are something I really now appreciate."

Mark McCormack on a visit to Qaummaarviit Territorial Park west of Iqaluit. McCormack was stranded on the land for nearly two days last month after his snowmobile got stuck. - photo courtesy of Robyn Campbell

After his snowmachine got stuck McCormack walked more than 30 km in his search for supplies and shelter, unaware of the search and rescue operation underway to find him. In the meantime his eventual rescuers went without sleep as they tracked his footprints by snowmachine over the night of March 24.

McCormack explained the decisions which mystified search-and-rescuers at the time, such as his choice to abandon his snow machine and strike out across the snow and sea ice on foot. It is always recommended to stay with a Ski-Doo unless there is immediate danger, because a snowmobile is easier for searchers to spot than a lone human.

McCormack said he had left a message on a friend's phone that he was headed out to explore the land, but his snow machine had become trapped in rough sea ice far from his intended destination. McCormack said he believed if there was any search it would be near the open water southeast of Iqaluit. He figured searchers would conclude he had fallen into the water and vanished. A veteran hiker, McCormack decided to make his way to that area on foot.

"In my mind, I had to go there for any chance of rescue and get there before the search was called off, if there was one," he said.

Some of McCormack's difficulties arose from the incomplete or simply incorrect information on his handheld global positioning system, which he used to guide him on his trek. Nearby cabins which could have aided him were not marked on his electronic map. One cabin he walked more than 10 km to reach turned out to be incomplete and open to the elements.

His most frightening moment was no danger at all: a nearby point marked "bear" on his GPS map was where someone had found a carcass washed up some years earlier, not an active bear's den as he feared.

The GPS information came from Iqaluit's wildlife office, which downloads its information onto people's GPS units on request. Striking out inland McCormack made a direct line towards the next nearest cabin on his GPS. Much of this journey involved pushing through deep snow.

"It was brutal," he recalled. "I was up to my knees in snow. I was crawling on my hands and knees for some of the time." McCormack found a fully-stocked cabin with a sign inside welcoming anyone to use it as long as they cleaned up after themselves, courtesy of Mathusalah Kunuk. McCormack ate a small meal, took a few supplies and set out again.

After the fact he realized his mind had not been working properly at the time, affected by hypothermia. The supplies he took did not leave him much of a safety margin if the weather turned bad and he wasted an opportunity to rest and dry out his clothes.

McCormack said it wasn't until he was found and rescued that he realized how dangerous his situation was. On the snowmobile ride back to Iqaluit he could barely hang on to the machine, revealing to himself how exhausted his body was. In hospital back in Iqaluit he was treated for mild frostbite and dehydration. A week later, full feeling had still not returned to his fingers and toes.

McCormack said he was grateful for the rescue and profoundly affected by Nunavut's sense of community which makes such operations possible.

"I put my name in as a volunteer, but maybe not to be on a Ski-Doo right away," he said. "I also would like to go out and clean up Mathusalah (Kunuk)'s cabin if given a chance."