"I think of my grandmother living here, and I feel like nothing has changed in all this time," said Inglangasuk, looking out at the green hills rising from the sea.

No seals come to visit this time. The tradition has faded. Almost all the island's visitors these days know nothing of the visiting seals.

Though not the bustling village of 2,000 people it was at the turn of the century, Herschel gets its fair share of visitors, about 700 last year. Each day small planes fly in at least four loads of passengers who stay for two hours before flying back to Inuvik. Two cruise ships are slated to stop there this season.

Known as Qikiqtaruk Territorial Park, Herschel Island lies in the Inuvialuit settlement region, just off the Yukon mainland, about 125 kilometres west of the NWT border.

It has been a favored hunting ground for Inuvialuit, Gwich'in and Inuit for centuries. In 1890 American whalers began wintering on the island. Their arrival, and the alcohol and disease they brought with them, kick-started an erosion of the culture and way of life that has accelerated in the last 50 years.

Though that erosion slowed in 1907, with the end of the whaling era, Inuvialuit tradition is more threatened today than ever.

Gerry Kisoun, who, along with park ranger Andy Tardiff, organized the visit to Herschel as part of the park's 10th anniversary, noted Beaufort-Delta cultures are threatened more than those of the Eastern Arctic because those here have had more exposure to European culture through the years.

This influence of the current generation of elders, the last to have lived on the land full time, is critical to the survival of the culture.

Kisoun says the chance is quickly slipping away. "We lost two just last two weeks," he notes, referring to the passing of Harry Gordon and Abe Okpik.

Albert and Inglangasuk are doing their part, willingly sharing stories from a very different time, their youth. Almost all of the stories they tell end in laughter.

Also along on the trip is Pauline Gordon, whose grandparents lived at Ptarmigan Bay, a mainland community 40 kilometres from the island. Teenagers Clinton Gordon and Jessie Wulf have come for training as junior rangers. Clinton Gordon's grandparents live at nearby Shingle Point.

The granddaughter of Vilhjalmur Stefansson, Albert says the famed arctic explorer had some help the history books do not note, namely her grandmother, an Inuvialuit woman. Stefansson took her as his partner after his first wife died.

"When the people overseas first heard her name, they thought it was the name of a pet or an instrument he used," she said laughing.

"People down south who think he did all of this stuff by himself -- nobody survives this harsh land by himself."

As a youngster, Albert travelled with her family from Aklavik to the island. In 1947 they spent the winter at Herschel, travelling by dog team back to Aklavik in the spring.

Melancholy memories

Born in 1930, Inglangasuk was raised by grandparents who lived on Kendall Island, eight hours east of Herschel in her grandfather's schooner. They lived for a time on Herschel Island.

Her visit, and her life these days, is tinged with sadness. The last time she stood on the island was in 1992. Fred, her husband since the age of 21, when the two were matched by their respective families, was with her. He passed away last month.

"It's like my arm is gone," said a sombre Inglangasuk during the flight to the island.

Separation from family and loved ones is a part of the childhood of both women.

Albert recalled how her father used to be gone for long stretches of time, hunting and trapping. After one particularly long absence, he returned to a less than friendly welcome.

"When he came in, he had this big long beard, with ice on the moustache, and all the kids were running away when he tried to kiss us or hug us," said Albert. "My brother wouldn't let my father crawl in bed with my mother. Every time we saw him he was sitting beside the stove, smoking."

As a girl, Inglangasuk spent several winters alone on Kendall Island while her grandparents were out trapping. "The only time I had to play I spent it with my little puppies. I would train them, and play hide and seek with them. I still like puppies today."

After winter she would go with her grandparents to Aklavik.

"I was scared to see all the people there. I wouldn't look at them or speak to them, I was so shy."

During the visit to Herschel both ladies take command of the kitchen, delivering orders and supervising the preparation of traditional Delta food such as char, geese and bannock.

There was hell to pay Sunday morning. A few members of the group didn't clean up after enjoying a 3 a.m. coffee.

"Who didn't clean the dishes?" demanded Inglangasuk. "The last one to go to bed has to clean the dishes. That's how we were raised."

Later that day, sitting on the floor, plucking the geese for dinner, Albert and Inglangasuk recalled how geese wings were used as brooms, how the feathers and down were plucked separately, how brothers, sisters and cousins would bet household chores on card games, how a big wind came up one day and flipped a houseboat leaving the island.

Stories better told than written, better heard than read. Stories that, if not heard, will go the way of the visiting seals, never to return.