Every July for the past ten years, the Cree side of Great Whale has transformed itself into a ghost town. Nearly everyone in town hops on their massive four wheeled scooters packed with everything but their washers and dryers, drive onto a Hudson’s Bay Company freighter, cross the mighty Great Whale river, a stone’s throw wide, and camp, feast and rejoice for a whole week.
The teepees and tents go up, the fires are lit, and the geese hung over flames to cook. The camp site is like a scene out of an old Cowboy and Indians movie with the roaring motor bikes replacing ponies. There are games in the afternoon and singing and dancing at night until the elders, now cold, zoom off into the night. And the scene repeats itself the following day. Good times, good times.
