I meet my Inuk guide -- who's known as Mr. P -- at the frozen harbour of Pond Inlet, Nunavut, where a snowmobile and traditional kamotiq sled are set to transport our group of three campers to the edge of the Arctic ice floe for some prime whale- and bird-watching.
Icebergs the size of aircraft hangers serve as landmarks on the horizon as the six-hour ride unfolds. One becomes known as the Taj Mahal -- it sports several minarets -- while a slender, shapely one is dubbed Venus de Milo. After a couple of hours, we come to a lead -- a significant crack in the ice over open water. Mr. P. discovers that the two-metre-wide gap stretches so far that a "jump" is necessary. I nervously watch him walk for several kilometres as he pokes and prods the ice to determine the safest place to cross.
About an hour later, he turns the sled and snowmobile around. A bit disappointed, I assume we're heading home. However, a few minutes later, he turns again, easing the group back toward the floe edge.
He mimes to "hang on," then squeezes the throttle. I realize we're now going full tilt to take a run at the big lead. The snowmobile sails over the crack and the open water. We scream with excitement as we land. We passengers have done absolutely nothing, but I still feel very clever.
The komatiq grinds to a halt in a slushy pool of aquamarine ice. Mr. P. jumps off the snowmobile and surveys the situation. The sled is seriously stuck. Unfazed, he starts rocking the komatiq out of the ice. It holds five days' worth of food, camping gear, fuel and three passengers; his progress is incremental but steady.
I shiver as frigid water fills his rubber boots. We offer to help, but he flashes us a shy smile that tells us he has the situation under control. After an hour of Herculean wrestling we're free, and the armchair helpers break into a round of applause.
Clearly, this is all in a day's work for Mr. P -- he seems to find our enthusiasm amusing. Once he's sure we're unstuck, he carefully unpacks a Coleman stove, and in due course produces a pot of tea, brewed by melting the snow below us.
Mr. P. hands me a mug. I stir in a heaping spoonful of Coffee-Mate, and spend five minutes breaking up the miniature icebergs floating in my cup. Finally, I take a sip. It's most delicious tea I have ever tasted.