Before guns

Elders in Uqsuqtuuq relayed stories from their own Elders about the time before firearms were introduced, as being a time when there were plenty of tuktuit on Qikiqtaq (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2012; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012; Siksik, Reference Siksik2012; Workshop, 2016a). This was generally referenced as “before being born” (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Atkichok, Reference Atkichok2012; Tavalok, Reference Tavalok2012), roughly approximated to being prior to the 1930s (Fig. 2). Bob Konana shares his version in the following interview excerpt:

In particular, Roald Amundsen was mentioned as trading, and thus introducing, rifles to Inuit on Qikiqtaq (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2012; Konana, Reference Konana2012; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012). As part of his journey to explore the Northwest Passage, Amundsen overwintered in the Uqsuqtuuq area in the early 1900s, and learned a great deal from Inuit (Brice-Bennett, Reference Brice-Bennett and Freeman1976). These exchanges also led to changes in Inuit hunting techniques, such as the shift away from the bow and arrow (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012). Therefore, the acquisition of guns was described as a major influence on the population of tuktuit on Qikiqtaq (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2012; Konana, Reference Konana2012; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012; Workshop, 2016a), improving success rates because Inuit could hunt from further away (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013).

In follow-up discussions as part of Workshop (2016a), Elders confirmed that the use of firearms was a considerable factor in driving tuktuit off the island. However, they cautioned against the interpretation that it was primarily Inuit over-hunting that caused the decline of tuktuit on Qikiqtaq. Certainly hunting success increased dramatically and was influential in reducing numbers and shifting hunting practices. However, the noise of the rifles was also new and disturbing to the tuktuit and scared them away (Workshop, 2016a), especially in those earlier times when the slightest sound would alert tuktuit to run. It is also well understood locally that tuktuit move in accordance with food availability, influence of predators, and to avoid muskox. Therefore, this reference to a period before guns suggests the influence of firearms on tuktuit movements due to hunting success and noise disturbance, as well as being used as a temporal indicator of when changes in caribou presence on Qikiqtaq were identified, which may relate to vegetation conditions and muskox presence. Although the relative strength of these different interconnected influences remains unclear, beginning around the 1930s a long period of absence of tuktuit on Qikiqtaq ensued.

During Elders’ childhood

Several individuals referenced their childhood as being a time of tuktuit shortage (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Atkichok, Reference Atkichok2012, Reference Atkichok2013; Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Workshop, 2016a), not only on Qikiqtaq but also around Kuugruaq (Perry River), Utkuhigsaliup Kuunga (Back River) (Fig. 1), and other areas of the mainland (Workshop, 2016a).

We estimated the “childhood” timeframe to extend from approximately 1930 to 1960 (Fig. 2), based on Elders’ descriptions in interviews of being born between 1928 and 1949. Putuguq (Reference Putuguq2013) and Akoak (Reference Akoak2012) distinctly describe a time of no tuktuit on Qikiqtaq and just south on Iluiliq (Adelaide Peninsula), while Konana (Reference Konana2012) emphasises in the quote presented earlier that there were no tuktuit on Qikiqtaq for a long time after the introduction of firearms.

In relaying stories of their childhood, Jacob and Martha Atkichok (Reference Atkichok2012, Reference Atkichok2013) also allude to the time when their families moved to Uqsuqtuuq as being a striking period of tuktuit absence on the island.

Moving into Uqsuqtuuq

A milestone referenced by many people was the transition from living on the land to living in a settlement, specifically in relation to moving into Uqsuqtuuq (the Hamlet of Gjoa Haven). Therefore, this was also an important temporal reference point for observations of tuktuit on Qikiqtaq. The timeframes vary, but some of the earliest references to moving into Uqsuqtuuq were in the late 1950s (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2012, Reference Eleehetook2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013), then the mid-1960s (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Siksik, Reference Siksik2012) and up until 1970 (Atkichok, Reference Atkichok2012) (Fig. 2).

Although some families were drawn into the area to trade with the Hudson Bay Company, the movement of many families off the land and into permanent settlements began through government interventions and in partial response to starvation (Damas, Reference Damas2002; Tester & Kulchyski, Reference Tester and Kulchyski1994).

Most contributors emphasised that when they moved to Uqsuqtuuq they were met with a dearth of wildlife. People shared their first impressions of Uqsuqtuuq and Qikiqtaq as “there seemed to be no animals to hunt, it didn’t have any food to eat” (Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013), “King William Island was deserted” (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013), there was “no caribou, no living animal” (Atkichok, Reference Atkichok2013), and “no caribou, no animals, nothing” (Siutinnuaq, Reference Siutinnuaq2012). Not only were there no tuktuit on Qikiqtaq (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Atkichok, Reference Atkichok2012; Carter, Reference Carter2012; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Hummiktuq, Reference Hummiktuq2012; Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013; Siksik, Reference Siksik2012; Workshop, 2013a, 2016a), there were no muskox, wolverines, wolves, grizzly bears, or even many migratory birds (Puqiqnak, Reference Puqiqnak2012; Workshop, 2013a,b). As there were only foxes, polar bears and ptarmigan on the island (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2012; Workshop, 2013a), people had to survive by hunting seals along the coast, and fishing, or travelling long distances on the mainland to hunt tuktuit (Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013; Workshop, 2016a). Therefore, it was generally acknowledged as a time of country food shortage, with hunting options being highly limited on the island.

Thus, it was commonly expressed that there were no tuktuit on Qikiqtaq in the 1960s (Aaluk, Reference Aaluk2012b; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012; Siksik, Reference Siksik2012; Siutinnuaq, Reference Siutinnuaq2012; Workshop, 2013b, 2016a), and into the 1970s (Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012). Akkikungnaq (Reference Akkikungnaq2013) also discussed the northern mainland as having a shortage of tuktuit around these times as well.

This time of moving into Gjoa Haven was a challenging transition for families on so many levels, and the absence of tuktuit and other wildlife on the island only exacerbated this reality. Nevertheless, about 50 years after people began settling around the Hudson Bay Company post in Uqsuqtuuq, tuktuit began to return.

Upingaaq (spring)

In upingaaq (spring), as the weather begins to warm and the snow starts to melt at the end of May and early June, tuktuit start migrating towards Qikiqtaq, moving onto the island before the sea ice breaks up (Aglukkaq, Reference Aglukkaq2012a; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013; Konana, Reference Konana2012; Workshop, 2013c, d, 2016a) (Fig. 3). Tuktuit can be seen roaming around the sea ice (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013), and coming to the island from both northerly and southerly directions (Aglukkaq, Reference Aglukkaq2012a; Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013; Workshop, 2013a, 2016a). From the north, tuktuit move southwestwards down from Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula) over Kingaq and Qikiqtarjuaq (Matty and Qikiqtarjuaq Islands) and onto Qikiqtaq (Aglukkaq, Reference Aglukkaq2012a; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012) (Figs 4 & 6). From the south, iluiliup tuktuit move northwards towards the coast (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Workshop, 2013b,d), and cross Quukirruq (Simpson Strait) to Qikiqtaq (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013) (Figs 4 & 6). This is such a prominent and important seasonal pattern for tuktuit movement that it has its own specific reference in Inuktitut: ataaqtuq, literally meaning “going from inland towards the shore (coast)” (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Workshop, 2016a). Some people also mentioned atirtut in this context, although this is usually a specific reference used to describe the movement of people “going out to the sea ice (coast) for seal hunting” in upingaaq (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Workshop, 2013b, 2016a). So it can be used for tuktuit or for people, depending on the context of the conversation, but either way it references movement from inland towards the coast.

Fig. 6.

Uqsuqtuurmiut knowledge of local movements of tuktuit around Qikiqtaq. This is a zoomed-in view of Fig. 4 for ease of viewing (without the ‘presence of tuktuit’ features), and caption details are the same as Fig. 4.

Sources: Aaluk (2012b), Aglukkaq (2012a), Akoak (2012), Arqviq (2012), Atkichok (2012), Eleeheetook (2012), Konana (2012), Sallerina (2012), Siksik (2012), Tavalok (2012), Aqslaluk (2013) Atkichok (2013), Eleeheetook (2013), Kamamalik (2013), Qitsualik (2013), Workshop (2013d).

Elders Jonathan Hiqiniq and Paul Aaluk in Workshop (2013b), discussing their younger days, described the caribou moving north towards Ahiap Tariunga (Queen Maud Gulf) as always being in big herds, travelling along one trail. Akkikungnaq (Reference Akkikungnaq2013) referred to this as amitrat, “when a huge herd of caribou is walking all in one line, walking the same way”. In Workshop (2016a) Siksik and Kogvik, originally from Kuugruaq, described the impressive feeling of the land vibrating under the impact of thousands of tuktuit coming from the west and moving to the east. This thundering of hooves (Thorpe et al., Reference Thorpe, Eyegetok and Hakongak2001b) would indicate the migration of tuktuit 2–3 days before the herd was even visible. These tuktuit arrived in such large numbers they would appear as if a “flowing river across the land” (Workshop, 2016a). These days, although hunters are still often along the coast of Ahiap Tariunga, they do not see these large herd migrations anymore; it seems that once they get near the shore in upingaaq, tuktuit tend to spread out (Workshop, 2013b).

Generally, this movement of iluiliup tuktuit north to the coastal area of Iluiliq (Adelaide Peninsula) and along Ahiap Tariunga is related to female tuktuit moving to their coastal calving grounds (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Workshop, 2016a), with some also going onto Qikiqtaq for calving (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Konana, Reference Konana2012). Indeed nurirvik, the Inuktitut name for June, references when “caribou calves are born” (Fig. 3). Therefore, there can be good hunting on the mainland in upingaaq, as there are plenty of tuktuit that congregate along the coast (Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012) (Fig. 5). Tuktuit are anticipated on Qikiqtaq when Uqsuqtuurmiut start receiving reports from family or friends in Iqaluktuuttiak (Cambridge Bay) in upingahaaq (early spring) about eastward movements, and in Qamani’tuaq (Baker Lake) about northward movements, usually around late April (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Workshop, 2013d). By early May, tuktuit move onto Qikiqtaq from the mainland, usually going through Nuvutiruq (Richardson Point) on the northern tip of Iluiliq (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013). In Workshop (2013b,d), movements of tuktuit towards the northern coastline were described in relation to the timing of seal pup hunting in late May and June, and then they move across to the islands. However, tuktuit movements onto Qikiqtaq seem strongest in the upingaaq and auraq (summer) months of June and July (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3), and during this time they can even be seen swimming across to the island (Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013). When Eleehetook (Reference Eleehetook2013) first moved to Uqsuqtuuq no one had seen tuktuit swimming across, so this is a more recent occurrence. The numbers of tuktuit moving onto the island in upingaaq can be highly variable between years (Workshop, 2013a).

Auraq (summer)

On Qikiqtaq in auraq (summer), the northeastern portion of the island was described as having the highest density of tuktuit around the month of July (Keanik, Reference Keanik2012). Other places where tuktuit spend auraq are indicated by important hunting destinations, including along the northern mainland and coastline, Tuqhukattaq (Sherman Inlet), Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula), Haatuq, and around Utkuhigsaliup Kuunga, among others (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012) (Fig. 5). These tuktuit are thought to be primarily coming northwards from Qamani’tuaq, with some coming from the east along the mainland coast (Akoak, Reference Akoak2012) (Fig. 4). From July to August male tuktuit were traditionally hunted for the top layer of bedding, and other skins were used as blankets (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3). Around mid-August, tuktuit hair is considered to be the right length for inner clothing (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3).

Ukiaq (fall)

In ukiaqsaaq (early fall), tuktuit start to move off the island, making their way inland again (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013; Konana, Reference Konana2012; Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013; Workshop, 2013a,c, 2016a) (Fig. 3). When the weather starts getting cold, this movement happens quickly, with tuktuit swimming across the strait or crossing the sea ice right after freeze-up, in order to migrate further south on the mainland (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Qitsualik, Reference Qitsualik2013; Workshop, 2013d). These southward movements are referred to as kangimukpalliajut in Inuktitut, meaning “moving from the coastal area inland” (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Workshop, 2016a) or taggaaruq “rushing up to the mainland” (Workshop, 2013b, 2016a), depending on the dialect being used. These southward movements begin in ukiaqsaaq, around late August or early September (Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013; Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3). During this time tuktuit hair is also thicker, and is best used for outer clothing (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3). However, until the ice freezes up, good hunting can be found on Qikiqtaq because tuktuit have a hard time moving south while the ocean is unfrozen (Workshop, 2013b). The months of ukiaqsaaq are also named for tuktuit that are losing the velvet off their antlers (amirairvik), occurring for young tuktuit in September and adult males in October (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3). Once on the mainland, tuktuit start moving further south in late September (Workshop, 2013b) for the mating season in October (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3).

Ukiuq (winter)

Iluiliup tuktuit are observed to migrate onto and off of Qikiqtaq in upingaaq and ukiaqsaaq, respectively, but commonly there are also some tuktuit that remain on the island throughout ukiuq (winter) (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012; Konana, Reference Konana2012; Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Workshop, 2013a, b, c, d, 2016a) (Figs 3 & 5). Therefore, there are tuktuit present on Qikiqtaq all year round (Aaluk, Reference Aaluk2012b; Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012; Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013b, 2016a), although in smaller numbers (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013d). In ukiuq (late November to early April), hunting tuktuit is mainly focused on Qikiqtaq itself due to close proximity (Arqviq, Reference Arqviq2012; Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012; Workshop, 2013a,b) (Figs 3 & 5). November (aquijurvik) is also the month when people retrieve the tuktuit meat that they cached in September (Workshop, 2016a) (Fig. 3). Tuktuit used to congregate around Nuvutiruq, and even remained there during ukiuq, so hunting nearby on the mainland was also feasible (Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013b). However, this behaviour apparently stopped approximately 10–15 years ago (Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013a, b). These days, tuktuit that migrate to the mainland in ukiaqsaaq tend to continue south so there are no tuktuit on Iluiliq in ukiuq (Aqslaluk, Reference Aqslaluk2013; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013a,b). So hunters in Uqsuqtuuq consider themselves fortunate to have tuktuit on Qikiqtaq throughout ukiuq, whereas it is harder for hunters in Taloyoak or Kugaaruk to hunt tuktuit, as they have moved so far south (Sallerina, Reference Sallerina2012; Workshop, 2013a). In late December and early January it is also common to see tracks of tuktuit coming across the ice from Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula) onto the northeastern part of Qikiqtaq (Workshop, 2013a) (Fig. 4). Some of the tuktuit that remain on Qikiqtaq throughout ukiuq are identified as iluiliup tuktuit that do not migrate back south to the mainland (Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Workshop, 2013a). Kingailaup tuktuit are known to travel long distances (Workshop, 2013c) and can be found on Qikiqtaq at any time of year, as they do not have a clear migratory pattern (Putuguq, Reference Sallerina2013; Workshop, 2016a).

Movements and crossings of tuktuit

Elders reiterated that tuktuit, as migratory animals, cannot stay in one spot all year (Workshop, 2016a). “The caribou don’t have their own land, so they’re always migrating and moving” (Workshop, 2013d). This was often emphasised in response to questions around seasonal movements or migration routes. Numbers of tuktuit migrating to/from Qikiqtaq are also known to fluctuate between years (Aglukkaq, Reference Aglukkaq2012a; Workshop, 2013a). This natural mobility of tuktuit caused some hesitancy during interviews in relation to drawing any seasonal hunting or migration routes on the maps. Tuktuit come from different directions at different times, depending on the conditions in a given year: “They are not a permanent resident so they are always moving around” (Workshop, 2013a). Qikiqtaq is not considered to have “its own caribou”, but tuktuit cross to and from the island throughout the year, with some remaining year-round (Workshop, 2016a). The migrations of tuktuit onto the island in upingaaq (spring) were most emphasised, based on the fact that the majority of arrows drawn indicate northwards movement (Fig. 4). Importantly, it was clear that these were two-way movements according to seasons, such that the arrows should be considered bi-directional (i.e. also indications of southwards movements in ukiaqsaaq (early fall)).

Drawing of migration routes was also frequently qualified with statements that “tuktuit do not follow these lines” (Workshop, 2013c, 2016a). Therefore, the lines drawn on the maps must be taken as general directional indicators, along with the recognition that these do not delineate specific “trails”, since tuktuit can move anywhere and come from any direction. Uqsuqtuurmiut were sometimes hesitant to indicate important areas on the map because they were concerned about misrepresenting routes by drawing a specific line (Workshop, 2013a, b, d). However, for those who did use the maps to provide indications of general movement patterns, the maps facilitated powerful spatial visualisation and a consistent depiction of tuktuit moving to and from Qikiqtaq from nearly all directions (Fig. 4). Although we did not specifically ask about key crossing points, what emerged from the mapping process was an emphasis on four key crossings: (1) north/south movements between Iluiliq and Qikiqtaq; (2) east/west movements between Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula) and Qikiqtaq; (3) east/west movements between Haatuq and Qikiqtaq; and (4) east/west movements between Ki’liniq (Victoria Island) and Qikiqtaq (Fig. 6).

It is commonly understood that northwards movements of iluiliup tuktuit in upingaaq result in a congregation in the coastal areas of Iluiliq and Ahiap Tariunga (Figs 4 & 6), and that these are important calving grounds (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Oberndorfer and Smith2017). This is reflected in Fig. 6, with the most frequently mapped crossing being from Iluiliq to/from Qikiqtaq (Fig. 6). Hunting tuktuit is also concentrated on Iluiliq in auraq, as well as generally on Iluiliq and Qikiqtaq (i.e. “unspecified” on the map, meaning it could be any time of year) (Fig. 5). Furthermore, Nuvutiruq is recognised as a key place where tuktuit move through in crossing to or from Qikiqtaq (Akkikungnaq, Reference Akkikungnaq2013; Eleehetook, Reference Eleehetook2013; Kamamalik, Reference Kamamalik2013; Keanik, Reference Keanik2012; Workshop, 2013b) (Fig. 6). The importance of these areas and north/south movements to/from Qikiqtaq are also well recognised in caribou literature (Brice-Bennett, Reference Brice-Bennett and Freeman1976; Gunn & Fournier, Reference Gunn and Fournier2000a; Gunn, D’Hont, Williams, & Boulanger, Reference Gunn, D’Hont, Williams and Boulanger2013; Gunn, Fournier, & Nishi, Reference Gunn, Fournier and Nishi2000; Miller, Reference Miller1991), and have been mainly studied in relation to the Ahiak herd (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Oberndorfer and Smith2017).

The second most prominent crossing relates to frequent Uqsuqtuurmiut descriptions of kingailaup tuktuit moving from Kingailaq (Prince of Wales Island) to Qikiqtaq via Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula). These movements are clearly illustrated on the maps and serve to highlight the importance of Kingaq and Qikiqtarjuaq for caribou moving east/west between Qikiqtaq and Kingailaq (Boothia Peninsula) (Fig. 6). The movement across these islands was also recognised by Inuit contributions to Johnson, Neave, Blukacz-Richards, Banks, & Quesnelle (Reference Kendrick and Manseau2016). There is considerable research acknowledging inter-island movements of Peary caribou between Prince of Wales Island, Somerset Island and Boothia Peninsula (Gunn & Ashevak, Reference Gunn, Buchan, Fournier and Nishi1990; Gunn, Miller, Barry, & Buchan, Reference Hiqiniq2006; Jenkins, Campbell, Hope, Goorts, & McLoughlin, Reference Kendrick2011; Johnson et al., Reference Johnson, Neave, Blukacz-Richards, Banks and Quesnelle2016; McFarlane, Miller, Barry, & Wilson, Reference McFarlane, Miller, Barry and Wilson2014). However, other than Gunn & Dragon (Reference Gunn and Dragon1998) and Johnson et al. (Reference Johnson, Neave, Blukacz-Richards, Banks and Quesnelle2016), there is little recognition of these movements continuing to King William Island.

The third key crossing includes east/west movements of tuktuit between Haatuq (no known English name) and Qikiqtaq. This area was referenced by Aaluk (Reference Aaluk2012b), Aglukkaq (Reference Aglukkaq2012b), Arqviq (Reference Arqviq2012) and Kamamalik (Reference Kamamalik2013) as being important for hunting tuktuit (Fig. 5), and identified in map drawings by others (Fig. 6). Haatuq was mainly associated with use by iluiliup tuktuit. For biological research this highlights a potential future area of investigation to better understand movements of Beverly, Ahiak or Northeastern mainland herds (Lorillard, Wager Bay, Melville Peninsula), which to date have shown limited connection with King William Island (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Oberndorfer and Smith2017).

The fourth key crossing, mapped by Arqviq (Reference Arqviq2012), Eleehetook (Reference Eleehetook2012), Sallerina (Reference Sallerina2012) and Workshop (2013d), indicates caribou movements east/west between Ki’liniq and Qikiqtaq north of Nugluktarvik and Hiuraarjuaq (the Royal Geographical Society Islands) (Fig. 6). Community members of Ikaluktuuttiak have also mentioned movements of tuktuit between Ki’liniq and Qikiqtaq as part of a recent study on muskox (M. Tomaselli, pers. comm., 18 May 2017). However, Dolphin and Union caribou are most closely associated with Victoria Island in the literature, and research to date focuses mainly on north/south movements between the island and the mainland across Dolphin and Union Strait (for which they are named), Coronation Gulf, Dease Strait, and the westernmost portion of Queen Maud Gulf (Dumond & Lee, Reference Dumond and Lee2013; Dumond, Sather, & Harmer, Reference Dumond, Sather and Harmer2013; Gunn, Buchan, Fournier, & Nishi, Reference Gunn, Buchan, Fournier and Nishi1997; Gunn & Fournier, Reference Gunn and Fournier2000b; Nagy, Gunn, & Wright, Reference Nagy, Gunn and Wright2009; Poole, Gunn, Patterson, & Dumond, Reference Poole, Gunn, Patterson and Dumond2010). Further investigation is warranted about east/west movements, notably through inter-community exchange in order to gain more regional perspectives on Inuit knowledge connections (Tomaselli et al., Reference Tomaselli, Kutz, Gerlach and Checkley2018).

Taken together, Uqsuqtuurmiut depictions of tuktuit crossings serve to highlight Qikiqtaq as an area of convergence for tuktuit. This also raises an important direction for future work in relation to understanding the dynamics and timing of potential herd mixing, as well as the importance of sea ice conditions to tuktuit crossings to/from Qikiqtaq.

Defining information needs

Broadly, the goal of Qanuqtuurniq is to ensure that current and reliable information is available to support management decisions, and that decisions promote long-term economic, social and cultural interests by inviting public participation and confidence, especially amongst Inuit (Government of Nunavut, 2011). Therefore, defining information needs is a critical starting point for this effort, and the GN stresses that this must be achieved through consultation and cooperation with co-management partners and Nunavummiut. This process begins by identifying and prioritising gaps in existing knowledge, which helps to determine future information needs. King William Island has been identified as being uniquely overlooked in caribou research (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Oberndorfer and Smith2017), but most importantly, identification of gaps and future needs must consider community-identified priorities. How these translate to regional or territorial scales, or connect with scientific priorities, is a little more challenging. In articulating iluiliup tuktuit, kingailaup tuktuit, qungniit and a potential cross-breed of caribou on Qikiqtaq, Uqsuqtuurmiut provide a starting point for others to learn about tuktuit in the region. However, Uqsuqtuurmiut also emphasise that their knowledge extends only to timeframes and places of their own experience, or specific stories or observations passed on through oral history. They are generally uncomfortable speaking beyond these areas, and will suggest the need to consult other communities to understand tuktuit in other regions. Gaining a more regional Inuit perspective requires not only more community-driven collaborative research, but more opportunities to meet and share knowledge within and between regions of Nunavut (and beyond). This may be especially critical in relation to overlapping hunting areas, or around areas of mutual community concern regarding the impacts of resource development or environmental change.

Among several research needs identified in Action 1.1a, IQ research on the historical distribution patterns of caribou is included. We have already explained our choice of “Uqsuqtuurmiut knowledge” terminology, as opposed to IQ. This was based on our intention to avoid the sense that Inuit knowledge can be generalised, or somehow belongs only in the past. Accordingly, we encourage readers, researchers and decision-makers to avoid limiting IQ to historical discussions only. We, along with many others (e.g. Healey & Tagak, Reference Healey and Tagak2014; McGrath, Reference McGrath2011; Tester & Irniq, Reference Tester and Irniq2008; Thorpe et al., Reference Thorpe, Eyegetok and Hakongak2001a; Wenzel, Reference Wenzel2004), emphasise the historical and contemporary relevance of IQ, and the evolving individual and collective nature of IQ. This was also evident in our discussions with Uqsuqtuurmiut regarding long-term and seasonal cycles of tuktuit presence, absence and movement to/from Qikiqtaq. Therefore, IQ is more than a source to provide historical perspective; it highlights the interconnections of people, tuktuit, the land, and well-being over generations, as well as through contemporary collective and individual experiences.

Identifying priorities for baseline research and ongoing monitoring is critical, as called upon in Action 1.1b (Government of Nunavut, 2011). According to Uqsuqtuurmiut there is a need to better understand (1) the location and habitat of calving grounds, (2) caribou health based on fur, fat and body condition, (3) abundance of caribou in different seasons, (4) timing and appropriate sea ice/ocean conditions that facilitate caribou crossings, and (5) impacts of disturbance in relation to predators, insects, mine development and contamination (e.g. old Distant Early Warning (DEW) line sites). These were raised through various interview, mapping and land camp discussions, and deserve more focused attention to understand this baseline according to Inuit knowledge (in Uqsuqtuuq and nearby communities). Increased opportunities for inter-community and interdisciplinary collaborations (e.g. Dedats’eetsaa, 2017; Lyver & Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation, Reference Lyver2005; Parlee, Manseau, & Łutsël K’é Dene First Nation, Reference Parlee and Manseau2005; Polfus et al., Reference Polfus, Simmons, Neyelle, Bayha, Andrew, Andrew and Manseau2017; Tomaselli et al., Reference Tomaselli, Kutz, Gerlach and Checkley2018) could serve to develop networked approaches to caribou monitoring that reflect areas, movements, crossings, health indicators, among others, deemed important to tuktuit by Inuit. Developing appropriate approaches to pursue these priorities relates closely to the subsequent policy statement of recognising and valuing Inuit knowledge.

Recognising and valuing Inuit knowledge

It is inspiring to see IQ recognised as a foundation for caribou management in Nunavut. From reading many government reports, as well as interacting with several GN wildlife biologists and managers over the course of this project, it is clear that wildlife managers are consulting regularly with HTAs, hunters and other community members. There is a demonstrated commitment to learning from IQ, and many initiatives have emerged to support the implementation of this policy statement. Such efforts occur informally during routine consultation visits or survey programmes, and formally through occasional workshops. Community consultations and workshops are important opportunities for sharing IQ and informing management decisions. However, they are also limited in the timeframes and people involved, and are often not afforded the priority of being written up into comprehensive reports. We have noticed that Inuit insights tend to be included as anecdotes (referenced as personal communications) in government reports, and are rarely followed up with more in-depth, systematic collaborative efforts to get a broader set of community contributions. From our experience working with Uqsuqtuurmiut we understand the financial, capacity (people’s time and availability), and logistical challenges involved in the kind of long-term, collaborative, intensive approaches needed to adequately reflect Inuit knowledge. Nevertheless, to move beyond anecdotes and to value Inuit knowledge in its own right, greater collective commitment is needed to support community-driven and community-led research, using methodologies deemed locally relevant and respectful of Inuit knowledge transmission and values.

Recommendations to value IQ equally alongside scientific knowledge in decision-making are also emphasised as inherently challenging, due to underlying differences in worldviews and conceptual framings of human–animal relationships (Bates, Reference Bates2007; Kendrick, Reference Kendrick2002; Tester & Irniq, Reference Tester and Irniq2008; Wenzel, Reference Wenzel2004). Incorporating IQ values and knowledge that underpin traditional management systems into bureaucratic regimes (even cooperative ones) is much more difficult and complex than concise policy statements can convey. Foundational to this is social learning, defined by Schusler, Decker, & Pfeffer (Reference Schusler, Decker and Pfeffer2003) as “learning that occurs when people engage one another, sharing diverse perspectives and experiences to develop a common framework of understanding and basis for joint action” (p. 311, also see Kendrick & Manseau, Reference Kendrick and Manseau2008). This involves the recognition of differing ways that Inuit and Western (scientific) worldviews value particular ways of interacting with people and animals, perceiving time, identifying leaders, showing respect, assessing credibility of knowledge or experience, and gaining trust (Bates, Reference Bates2007; McGrath, Reference McGrath2003). We are fully in support of Actions 1.1c and d, which call for the development of guidelines for collecting and incorporating Inuit knowledge into management processes and decisions. However, this may also require some fundamental shifts in how relationships and understanding of caribou are developed, beginning perhaps at the most basic level of identification and naming of caribou (herds). As explored in Ljubicic et al. (Reference Ljubicic, Okpakok, Robertson and Mearns2018), Uqsuqtuurmiut approaches to naming and distinguishing herds are fundamentally different than biological approaches to species and herd classifications. Both are important for a comprehensive picture of caribou populations and health. However, other than general mentions of tuktu, the literature (including the GN management plan) relies on herd names developed through scientific assessments and management practices. Understanding Inuit naming conventions and variations according to local language, geography and homelands would be an important starting point in more effective communications and mutual understanding (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Okpakok, Robertson and Mearns2018). Indeed, developing some broad guidelines would be helpful, but they also need to be implemented with sensitivity to local context and the ability to tailor according to local guidance. Collaborative community-based projects are intrinsically related to the community context and research relationships developed by the individuals involved, and are thus variable across communities. Towards this end, we recommend discussing seasonal rounds and understanding the seasonal calendar in local cultural and dialectical terms at the outset of any community-based caribou research (something we learned the hard way and thus only came to near the end of our work). For example, the seasonal rounds of tuktuit depicted in Fig. 3 are unique to Uqsuqtuuq and cannot be considered broadly applicable to all Kitikmeot communities, much less all of Nunavut.

Methods may also vary, depending on community goals, priorities, and the receptiveness and flexibility of both researchers and community members. We acknowledge our struggles with how to convey this introductory synthesis of Uqsuqtuurmiut knowledge of tuktuit. Its written form and particular characterisations of tuktuit do not represent the seamless definition of IQ presented by Thorpe et al. (Reference Thorpe, Eyegetok and Hakongak2001a) (also see Tester & Irniq, Reference Tester and Irniq2008, and Wenzel, Reference Wenzel2004). There are dangers here of decontextualisation and, accordingly, misunderstandings. We have tried to address these by defining a collaborative process from the outset, underpinned by local principles. We have been careful that the basis for our claims has been checked through our co-authorship process and various iterative verification and validation efforts (both with individuals and in workshops). The constraints of the English language and journal article word limits add further complications. The synthesis shared here does not represent all Uqsuqtuurmiut, but rather the diversity of expertise from contributors involved in the project. This work presents an important foundation that can now be expanded and elaborated as the community sees fit. In our efforts to contextualise the knowledge shared, we have presented Uqsuqtuurmiut voices directly through quotes, citations and narratives presented. We have organised content according to recurring themes (names for tuktuit, timeframes, seasons, movements) that emerged from interviews as opposed to externally determined categories. We also engage in this collaborative effort with full understanding that none of our work would ever replace the need for experiential, land-based, inter-generational learning tied to cultural values, beliefs and practices.

We share our work with the hope that this introductory overview may become more accessible to other researchers and wildlife managers, and to encourage the commitment of time and resources necessary to (1) develop closer working relationships, (2) spend more time learning in communities from local experts, and (3) develop more ways to support local leadership in research and management efforts. In so doing, the challenges of compartmentalisation and decontextualisation may be addressed in the long run, in support of more credible research.

Developing and implementing credible research

The Government of Nunavut (2011) policy affirms that information needed for caribou management must be acquired by means of well-planned and credible research, and this involves a multitude of ethical and methodological considerations. Action 1.1f seeks to ensure that research and monitoring activities are based on validated methods and widely accepted standards or protocols for research. However, what is considered “validated” and “widely accepted” are important points for discussion with community members and local organisations as part of research planning and design. This is important to ensure there are no conflicts with the perceived validity or acceptability of these “standards” in terms of how tuktuit are treated, as well as how Inuit knowledge may be recorded and shared. For instance, participatory mapping can be a powerful tool to communicate Inuit knowledge of caribou to decision-makers and to link to scientific monitoring and assessments (e.g. aerial surveys or satellite collar monitoring) (Kendrick & Manseau, Reference Kendrick and Manseau2008). However, it is imperative to acknowledge and respect the limitations of static maps and finite lines in representing Inuit knowledge, and develop management recommendations cautiously in this respect. The migration routes mapped by Uqsuqtuurmiut could be said to represent the most commonly experienced or anticipated directions of movement by tuktuit (Figs 4 & 5), but these must be considered as always shifting and fluctuating over time in relation to environmental conditions, animal health, seasonal cycles, population cycles and various forms of disturbance. As noted earlier, hunters also emphasised that tuktuit cannot be expected to be found exactly where lines are drawn. So the drawings provide representative indications of directional movements and areas where tuktuit are anticipated to be found, and are not meant to depict precise trails, for example. In addition, the maps only reflect contributions of the individuals involved, and thus are not representative of the knowledge of all Uqsuqtuurmiut, or even all hunters. These limitations are important to acknowledge in communications with biologists, researchers and decision-makers, and could be similarly considered in relation to satellite telemetry or aerial survey methods with regards to representing spatial, temporal and population dynamics. And yet, this mapping also provides important perspective on movements of tuktuit around Qikiqtaq, considering that many current maps of caribou ranges and migration routes do not include King William Island (Ljubicic et al., Reference Ljubicic, Oberndorfer and Smith2017).

Ongoing Inuit contributions based on local observations, values and experiences could be used to complement more logistically and financially intensive, and temporally limited, surveys of tuktuit. Developing and implementing community-based monitoring strategies grounded in interactions via hunting culture would require close collaboration between wildlife managers, HTAs, conservation officers, hunters and Elders in each community to determine what such protocols would entail. Through methods such as participatory mapping, sharing GPS tracks/points indicating hunting travel or observations, reporting sightings or kills of sick tuktuit, defining key harvesting or habitat regions to monitor, administering brief surveys when hunters drop in to the HTA, among others, more sustained Inuit contributions could be supported.

All the elements discussed above would also support the capacity building, strategic partnership, cross-jurisdictional cooperation, funding, research and employment initiatives highlighted in Actions 1.1j–1.1o. These actions convey the value that the Government of Nunavut (2011) places on renewing investment in research and monitoring in order to meet current and future information needs, as well as supporting socio-economic development. In exploring options for Nunavummiut to play a greater role in caribou research and monitoring (Action 1.1o) considerable consultation would be required to ensure effective input, engagement and inclusion of Inuit knowledge and values in caribou management practices in Nunavut. Investments in training and employment would also be necessary to enhance local capacity, as well as to support the HTAs, conservation officers and regional wildlife biologists to play a greater facilitating role in collaborative research and monitoring initiatives.