NNSL (Jun 01/98) - Northerners, especially those in the far North, are quite innovative when it comes to shutting out the light.

Although June 21 is the longest day of the year for many, several Northern communities have already reached 24 straight hours of sunlight. And bright light is something that can hinder their ability to sleep.

In Holman, Tony Kulbisky has come to grips with the evening glow.

"I'm still here. I haven't jumped off any tall buildings yet," joked Kulbisky, the director of community wellness.

"I can't say it affects me anymore. You just get used to it. But there is an adjustment period... You just blacken out your window to get your brain thinking it is indeed time to go to sleep. I used a Glad garbage bag. "

In Taloyoak, the Spring Games that welcome the return of the sun wrapped up last week. The events include snowmobile races, igloo-building, fishing, dog-team racing and other traditional Inuit games. Although one shy resident was only too happy to participate, there was a downside.

"If I told you that I have tin foil all around my window, that must mean there's 24 hours of daylight," he said. "It's starting to disrupt my sleep."

Martha Mannilaq, also of Taloyoak, said she has had to explain the phenomenon to her daughter.

"She asks me why it can't get dark anymore at this time of the year," Mannilaq said. "I just tell her, 'It's going to be summertime, and in summertime it doesn't get dark anymore. But in winter, it'll be dark.'"

Dr. Pradeep Bhanot, who arrived in Cambridge Bay five months ago when it was dark for the most of the day, he said he found himself sleeping more. "Other people also tell me that they tend to sleep more in the wintertime," he said.

Since then, Bhanot has seen patients whose sleep has been disrupted by the light, but most are new to the area.

"We think there is a circadian rhythm that is reset by the day-night cycle," Bhanot said. "Anybody who works and basically lives by the clock will have that problem."

However, there are those who are blessed with the ability to sleep through practically anything. Hal Richards, principal of Quluaq school in Clyde River, is one such lucky person.

"I can sleep anywhere, anytime, so it doesn't make any difference," he said.