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Avataq's final journey

New report catalogues what happened hours before boating tragedy

Nathan VanderKlippe
Northern News Services

Rankin Inlet (July 24/02) - It was dark when the Avataq started going down.

August was sinking into September, and the sun hid behind the horizon as wind-whipped waves of eight-degree water lashed across the deck of the 12-metre fishing boat.

On the radio, Cpt. Louis Pilakapsi made one last call at 1:30 a.m. Speaking on citizen's band radio channel 14, he told family members in Arviat that the boat was taking water on the bow and stern and was sinking.

That was Aug. 25, 2000. Almost two years later, a report from the Transportation Safety Board of Canada has shed new light on the last hours of the Avataq -- and on reasons why the craft sank and rescue efforts were unsuccessful.

In total, four men lost their lives that night: Pilakapsi and crew members Larry Ussak, Sandy Sateana and David Kudjuk. The boat has never been located.

The sun was already in the sky when the Avataq left Churchill, Man., at 5 a.m. on August 24.

The boat was on a trip up the coast of Hudson Bay, to Arviat and then to Rankin, a trip the vessel had made many times before.

In fact, it was fairly common for fishing boats to make small supply runs -- especially when companies like NTCL in Rankin needed some last-minute supplies.

The Avataq was owned by Avataq Enterprises in Rankin Inlet. The craft had been certificated as a small fishing vessel, although that certification had run out in July 1999.

To carry cargo, the boat would have needed a stability booklet, to guide the crew in how to properly load the boat.

The crew had no formal training, even though existing regulations said the captain should have been certified as a master of his ship.

He also needed courses in electronic navigation, marine emergency duties and radio operation.

But Transport Canada didn't do any regular inspections of boats or captains in the Arctic. Of the 34 boats registered in the Yukon, the NWT and Nunavut, only two were scheduled for annual inspections. Besides, Transport Canada's Manitoba and Nunavut office was located in Ottawa, and the office only employed one inspector who spent a week or two in Nunavut every year.

So the crew of the Avataq loaded the boat with 15,823 kilograms of propane and building materials.

The crew reported to the port warden that the boat was carrying only 10,160 kilos.

Some of the cargo was stored below deck, but most was strapped onto the top of the boat. Everything was covered with tarpaulins, to minimize the amount of water that could pool up on deck.

The tarps were necessary, in part, because the aft-deck was below the water line.

Although a wall of bulwarks kept the water from splashing in, the aft-deck was designed to be above water.

It even had a number of drainage holes to allow water to flow out.

The crew plugged those holes, known as scuppers, to keep the water from flowing back in.

The Avataq left Churchill and began following the 94th meridian due north.

Winds gained in speed throughout the day. When the Avataq left port, the marine weather forecast called for a windspeed of just under 30 kilometres an hour, picking up to almost 60 overnight.

By 3:03 that afternoon, Environment Canada issued a gale warning for Churchill and Arviat.

But the Avataq continued on its course.

Winds were light as night began to descend, blowing from the southwest at just over 20 kilometres per hour. At 11:30 p.m., the captain made radio contact with a relative in Arviat.

He said the crew was on deck, securing some of the cargo that had come loose during the journey.

But Pilakapsi fully expected to arrive in Arviat, predicting that he would sail into port at 2 a.m., just over two hours away.

Soon the winds began to gust. Before 12 a.m., they had increased to 40 kilometres an hour. And the winds were shifting, too, veering westward.

Conditions began to worsen aboard the Avataq. At 12:30 a.m., the captain broadcast on citizen band channel 14 that the boat's bilge pumps had stopped working properly.

The vessel was taking on water about 19 kilometres south of Arviat. By now, the winds were over 60 kilometres an hour from the northwest.

The final call

At 1:30 a.m., Pilakapsi made his final radio transmission. Before the boat went completely under, Pilakapsi rushed to put on his Mustang personal flotation device. He was in such a hurry that when his body was found, the hanger was still lodged in the suit.

The boat was equipped with a life raft and an aluminum fishing skiff was strapped to the foredeck. The raft went down with the boat. The skiff was found later, floating empty.

Not long after, a group of Arviat residents took off on their ATVs, determined to locate the boat from the shore.

By 2:55 a.m., they called the head of the emergency measures organization in Arviat, who in turn relayed the distress call to Iqaluit.

In Iqaluit, Nunavut Emergency Services fielded the call.

Despite an unwritten policy that any distress calls would immediately be forwarded to the rescue co-ordination centre in Trenton, Iqaluit wanted to first confirm that there was a foundering ship. Trenton wasn't called until 5:19 a.m.

The first search plane in the air was a Cessna Caravan that took off at 6 a.m.

But by the time it arrived at the Avataq's last known location, it was too late.

The Mustang coveralls would only keep those treading water alive for only five hours in the frigid water.

In the ensuing hours and days, four search and rescue helicopters, three Hercules aircraft, one private airplane, two commercial ships and a fleet of private boats joined in the search.

But the search ended in heartbreak for the Kivalliq: only two bodies were found.