Lac Minto region , Ungava peninsula , somewhere east of Hudson Bay . In other words a big territory and Scott and I are somewhere in the middle of it . Weather is quite nice , upper forties in the midday and a bit below the freeze point in the night . Wind is a beast though , it will not stop blowing almost the entire time we are there . Anywhere from ten to 35 mph with occasional gustas that may go forty .
The afternoon we arrived at the campsite Scott , being a decade or two my junior was frothing at the bit to " git to it " . Actually Scott will probably be this way well into his old age , just the way the Lord put him together I reckon .
So , he immediately pronounced his desire to take off hunting out of camp on foot as soon as we gathered together to have the " indoctrination " meeting in the mess hall . "
" There will be no hunting until tomorrow " , this pronouncement came from the camp boss whom I had only barely met and was delivered with what seemed to me unnecessary vigor .
A few glances were exchanged among the hunters and Scott stated " I thought we were to be allowed to hunt out of camp the first day " . At this point the exchange became a bit rapid and so it is difficult to accurately reproduce it verbatim . Suffice it to say that it deteriorated to the point that all went silent .
At this time the " camp boss " proceeded to lay down a set of rules in a fashion that one might expect juvenile delinquents to be receipients of while incarcerated at a felony detention center . One of the directives was that if we wernt at the lakeshore to be picked up at a given time we would be left until the next day , regardless of the weather . During this recital he also allowed as to how he was fed up ( he used different words ) folks coming up there to be catered to .
As you might expect the room was quite silent and all twelve of us filed out and headed to our respective cabins . I , myself was taken aback as was Scott but we both determined to put a good face on the matter . I must say that was easier for me to do than Scott because for some reason the "camp boss " had elected to aim his ( tirade ? ) directly at Scott .
Day one , hunting time , daybreak and a bit found us eating a great breakfast prepared by a cheerful and talented French Canadian chef . A really good guy who had taken this job to "experience " the wilds of Ungava . Far better pay was his in Montreal but for him the sights , sounds and isolation were more than worth it .
Full as a tick and eager to hunt we all loaded up in canoes that were made of wood , six feet or better acros the beam and around twenty or so feet long . Freighters they were called and could hold five or six men , gear and still have ability to hold the caribou taken in a days time . Great heavy things with a bow that rose five foot in the air and a square stern that held a forty horse motor they could take abuse from the massive rocks that were all that I could tell was on the floor and bank of Lake Minto . Certainly not any dirt up there , reckon the glaciers brought it all the way down to Arkansas .
Our taxi driver for the day and indeed for the days to come was a fellow that spoke practically no english at all . A fact that was to exhibit the shortcomings thereof in the days ahead . Gee was friendly enough and more than helpful when the time to get game out but was a bit short when it came to " thinking for hisself " .
Out of the cove the camp was situated on and into a great roaring wind that was driving five foot swells in our face Gee took us around a point and " what ?? proceeded to motor into the cove that was but a stones throw from the camp . Two fingers held aloft he pointed at the father and son in the front of the canoe and called out a time . Discussing this among ourselves we decided that he wanted them to be back at that place at that time .
Shoving off again with difficulty since the wind was hard against us Gee proceeded to motor back out into the open lake at which time he proceeded around another point ...................and into the next cove ! I could plainly see the ridge that separated us from the first cove .
Out of the boat and up the hill was our first goal and once achieved we spotted the father and son . They must have been at least a quarter mile away . Ah well , not to be discouraged we pressed on to the highest ground around and set up our spotting gear .
For the record we were using a Swarovski 20X60 X80 spotting scope and our firearms were a Ultimate Blackpowder 50 cal . and a Chris Matthews prepared 7 STW that was shooting the Cauterucio 176 gr bullets . By the way the Ultimate was being fired with a 200 gr charge of triple 7 behind a 250 gr Parker plastic tipped bullet . Good for half moa at 300 that one . Good Leica glass adorned Scotts eck in the form of the delicious 10 X 42 binocs , while I had to be content with the Nikon 10 x 20 x50 mm binoculars of the latest version . Dont get me wrong , there were times that Scott would say " Let me look through those Jim " when the rasnge was particulrly far . That is , when he didn't just reach and grab them .
The terrain was beautiful , the weather invigorating and I set to with a veangeance looking for caribou to stalk . Scot backed up to me and between us we were watching the full 360 degrees .