On Aug. 22, the Tuvaq, a fuel tanker operated by Woodward Group, spilled 10,000 litres of diesel fuel into the ocean off Pond Inlet in Nunavut.
"On Sunday night there was a strong diesel smell in the air," said Lori Nash, Pond Inlet SAO. "But we couldn't see anything."
This same tanker was damaged by ice on its way to Iqaluit.
It was the third time in a little more than a year that a tanker owned by this company has polluted our waters.
The most recent incident was July 22, when the Mokami spilled 1,000 litres of diesel into the water off Rankin Inlet.
On Aug. 8, 2003, the same vessel spilled 1,500 litres of gasoline off Coral Harbour.
After the 2003 incident, coming in the first year of Woodward's three-year contract to deliver fuel to the Baffin and Kivalliq regions, Transport Canada issued an official warning to the company.
While there's no word on the status of the investigation into the July incident, Transport officials had better widen its probe to include the Pond spill.
The amount spilled Aug. 22 is tiny compared to the tanker's capacity: 16.8 million litres. However, the number of incidents in such a short time is troubling.
So far, the outcry has been minimal. It's important to note that fuel transfer, even with proper docking facilities, is risky business.
In Nunavut, most fuel is pumped ashore through a long hose. It's easy for a crack or a tear to occur and fuel to spill.
That demands fuel companies take extra caution and that both governments review each spill to determine the cause and find out of there's any way to prevent it from happening again.
Three spills in 14 months are three too many. Next time, we might not be so lucky -- the spill could be 100,000 litres.
Nunavut's land and water are as near to pristine as you can get on Earth today. It's important to keep them that way.
Should government get out of the fish business? It's a question some NWT fishermen are asking themselves after another year of low prices and low profits.
Fishing may seem like a good career choice for an independent-minded person. In exchange for long, back-breaking hours on the water, you gain the freedom to be your own boss.
Then comes the reality of the business.
You're beholden to a government master: the Freshwater Fish Marketing Corporation, which controls all fish exported from the NWT.
Expenses are high and prices for fish are down, as much as 15 per cent for our most important catch, whitefish, since last season.
NWT fishermen pulled in 24 per cent more whitefish during the winter season but stand to earn significantly less.
That's despite the fact the fourth-quarter report from the fish corporation pegs total sales at $60.2 million for 2003-2004, third highest in the past 10 years.
Opportunities North, NWT News/North's annual report on business and industry, painted a dismal picture of this important industry: fewer fishermen, increasing costs and dropping prices.
According to fishermen interviewed for articles published in the past few weeks, things haven't improved at all.
Don and Mary Sinclair, who have fished Great Slave Lake for years, say they expect their income to fall to $30,000 this year.
They're frustrated the fish corp. changed weight limits for small fish, leading to lower prices paid to fishermen.
The Sinclairs and others would like to be able to get out from under the fish corp., to see if they can make a go of it on their own.
Under the current system, there's a guaranteed buyer.
If fishermen were to go it alone, it would be their job to find a buyer for their catch.
The NWT isn't a big enough market to sustain the Northern industry. In the south, there's competition from Atlantic and Pacific fisheries, and the Alberta freshwater fishery that reeled in four-times more whitefish this past season.
Federal and territorial governments can help by investing money to modernize the fleet and processing facilities, but the best way to help the fisherman is by increasing demand for our fish.
The fish corp. must take a page from the poultry industry and spread the word that whitefish is good eating.
Chicken consumption has jumped by 20 per cent in the past 15 years, thanks in large part to an effective marketing campaign.
It's time to get whitefish into every freezer and onto more Canadian plates.
Editorial Comment
Darrell Greer
Kivalliq News
First, on a personal note, yes, it's true.
By the time you're reading this I am relaxing on a beach outside of Charlottetown, P.E.I., enjoying a little rest and relaxation with a tiny umbrella protruding from my beverage of choice.
That is, if I'm not chasing my grandson around the yard or down the hall trying to recover my snagged piece of pizza.
I can't make up my mind if five-year-olds are really that fleet of foot or, gasp, the years are starting to catch up to me.
Nah. Five-year-olds are really that quick.
I leave the Kivalliq News in the more-than-capable hands of Lisa Scott until my October return.
Lisa is over from Yellowknife and is looking forward to her Kivalliq experience.
Oily problems
While Transport Canada takes its time to investigate the ever-growing number of spills in Nunavut, you can't help but wonder which community is going to be next to have a few thousand litres of fuel spilled into its harbour.
With the number of known spills now up to four, it would be nice to hear Transport Canada remove the word possible from its public rhetoric.
There aren't possible problems, there are problems.
In fact, we're now into a full-blown game of oil roulette in Nunavut.
If something isn't done to address the problem quickly, it's only a matter of time before a major spill strikes our pristine waters.
An insider in the transport industry tells us more fuel has been spilled into Nunavut's waters during the past two years than during the previous 10.
Time for answers
It's time for the Government of Nunavut to speak up and demand answers, not delays, from Transport Canada, especially if this year's spills are being caused by the same problems that occurred during the 2003 delivery.
All of a sudden, the savings the GN prided itself on obtaining two years ago don't look like such a bargain any more, with our waters being put at such risk.
Unless we're missing something, the last time we checked, it's zero tolerance for any type of pollutants being spilled into Arctic waters.
Hopefully, the good folks at Transport Canada will soon share their findings with the people who depend so much on these waters for their very way of life.
Before I go, let me take this opportunity to congratulate the Grade 12 graduates across the Kivalliq region and wish them every success in their future endeavours.
See you in October!
Editorial Comment
Jason Unrau
Inuvik Drum
It seemed such a long time ago that the End of the Road Music Festival moved from the concept phase to becoming a reality that when entering the recreation hall Friday evening for the opening of the first annual event, I thought for a moment that this sort of thing had been going on for years.
While the staging of the annual petroleum show and arts festival has laid the template for similar events, a music festival is an entirely different beast.
Unlike a trade show or visual arts festival, where an installation or information booth remains relatively accessible for the duration of the event, a music festival is a scheduling challenge.
Similar to making music, arranging a three-day concert is an exercise in timing and skilled delivery not only for the benefit of the fans, but also for the performers. Musicians can be a particular bunch and keeping them pleased is an integral part, especially for a first-time festival attempt, as performers are sure to return home with news -- good or bad -- about their last gig.
Anyone who has had the opportunity to play music on the road or hang out with a band that has will no doubt possess a cache of horror stories that seem funny with the passing of time, but can kill a first-time festival when word gets out amongst musician circles.
As a "performer" in the festival, I was treated like a king, and judging from various comments from out-of-town players, this sentiment appeared unanimous. Not only did events stick, for the most part, to the planned schedule, the food in the performers lounge was superb and, even more importantly, the sound on stage and in the hall was impeccable.
Kudos must go to the sound guys from Whitehorse who did a bang-up job. With the variety of performances providing constant sound challenges, these guys showed the patience of Job in creating the best possible sound for everyone.
"Those (sound) guys were our lifeline," commented one musician after exiting the stage.
Days before the festival, those same sound techs donated that lifeline, tweaking the mixing board for the band playing at the Mad Trapper. What a nice thing to do! Not to mention the good omen that scene provided of what was to transpire in the coming days.
Hats must also come off for the army of volunteers, who throughout the planning and staging phases, were a dedicated bunch. Without them, none of the weekend's events would have been possible.
Frank Hansen, one of the driving forces behind the festival, not only performed and emceed, but could be seen coiling cable on Sunday during the massive tear-down of equipment.
Showing similar spirit and dedication was festival co-ordinator Kim Bitensky, who was at every meeting, volunteered at every fundraising event, put up with a barrage of personalities and mini-crises that erupt when planning something on this scale and who was spotted pulling a mop across the arena floor on Sunday morning.
And last but not least, a special thanks must go to the fans who came out and supported a worthwhile and entertaining event that has the potential to become the marquis festival of the North.
Editorial Comment
Derek Neary
Deh Cho Drum
In light of frequent calls for jobs by elected leaders in the Deh Cho, one starts to wonder, how many people out there are really struggling to find work?
In this marvellous age of the Internet, the figures are available at one's fingertips (although numbers don't tell the whole story). The 2002 GNWT regional employment survey, the most recent year for which statistics are available, indicated an unemployment rate of 16.9 per cent in the Deh Cho. That was based on eight per cent unemployment in Fort Simpson and 23.5 per cent of people looking for work in surrounding communities.
There are approximately 3,000 people in the Deh Cho region, not all of whom are employable. Some are too young to work, others are retired, still others simply don't desire to be among the labour force.
Now, here's where the details are lacking: there's no breakdown of who is employed by whom.
Many people, particularly in Fort Simpson, work for the territorial government. A fraction of residents in every Deh Cho community hold paid positions through the band office or its affiliated programs. A few more are employed by Metis Locals and the federal government.
The business sector likely provides proportionally fewer jobs in this economically depressed region than in many other locales. Nevertheless, operations such as Beaver Enterprises, the Northern store, Big River, TJs Grocery, the Nahanni Inn, Enbridge Pipelines, charter airlines, and others play a very important role.
There are some seasonal positions. For instance, members of the fire crews and those who work at the Visitor Information Centre in Fort Simpson are only hired for finite periods. The same is true of many Beaver Enterprises employees. Unfortunately, it's looking like it may be a lean winter for Beaver, and there will likely be fewer jobs than usual available in Fort Liard.
Other than specific circumstances, such as the probable economic downturn in Fort Liard, who is left without a job?
A GNWT labour market survey from 1994, states that limited education was one of the primary reasons for unemployment.
How much has that variable improved since then? Educational opportunities are there to be had in the larger Deh Cho communities. Perhaps it may seem daunting, but those who wish to upgrade their education can do so through high school or general education development, or GED. Aurora college offers a variety of programs and gets plenty of applicants in Fort Providence, decent enrolment in Fort Simpson and is still striving to attract students in Fort Liard.
But before education comes motivation. It's not unusual to hear employers bemoan the fact that some workers aren't reliable. An employee shows up chronically late for work or doesn't even surface after a day or a week or a pay cheque. This bracket accounts for a portion of the 16.9 per cent of unemployed people in the Deh Cho.
What can be done for them? Strike that. The real questions are, what can they do for themselves and when will they do it?