The northerly wind calmed as we landed on the beaches of the new Davis Inlet. Waves splashed against our 15-foot punt, in which 10 people were crammed together.

We had often traveled to this place before. It was across from the old Davis Inlet. It had been chosen by the missionary and his newly appointed chief, a respected elder. Now this place had become the promised land. There was talk of a huge store, a church and a big school that would take all the children age five and up.

My parents were not church-going people. They were not easily tamed by the missionary. But they decided to set up their tent near the church and school that were being built. Almost all the men in the community were being trained and employed as carpenters to build the new community. People set up their camps near the stream that would be used for drinking and cooking. My parents immediately set their nets into the water to catch the Arctic char that swarmed the area.