Skip to main content

Site Banner Ads

Site Search

Search

Up Here Publishing

Mobile Toggle

Utility navigation

  • Shop
  • Contact Us

Social Links

Facebook Twitter Instagram

Search Toggle

Search

Main navigation

  • Magazines
    • Latest Issue
    • Past Issues
    • Up Here Business
    • YK Guide
    • Move Up Here
  • Sections
    • People & Places
    • Arts & Lifestyle
    • History & Culture
    • Travel & Tourism
    • Nature & Science
    • Northern Jobs
  • Newsletters
  • Community Map
  • Contests
    • Arctic Adventure Sweepstakes
    • Sally Manning Award
  • Subscribe
    • Magazine
    • Digital Edition

Logging On In Gjoa Haven

March 2017

A small town, a small boost in population, and an even smaller amount of internet to share

By Eva Holland

Illustration by Beth Covvey

Illustration by Beth Covvey

Breadcrumb

  1. Home
  2. Logging On In Gjoa Haven

The construction workers are back at the Amundsen Hotel for their lunch break. They’re sipping from mugs of hot coffee, chowing down on whatever the hotel is serving that day: grilled ham and cheese sandwiches with fries, maybe. I’m in my room, on the second floor, with a window that looks out on Gjoa Haven’s quiet, packed-dirt streets. When I peer out, I can see the bare land sloping away to my right, downhill past the unfinished building these workers have been flown in to build, down to the perfect, sheltered harbour that kept Roald Amundsen here for two winters—a haven for his boat, the Gjoa, which gave the town its name. To my left, I can see streets and houses petering out into the open tundra of King William Island. In front of me is the Rae Strait, its cold waters ice-free for summer.

I didn’t see the workers come in off the street, tromp into the dining room in their heavy work boots, strip off jackets and gloves and sit down for lunch. But I know they’re here. I’ve been telling time by their comings and goings for three days now. They leave the hotel around 8 or 8:30 a.m. They return for an hour-long lunch by noon. And they knock off for the day, settling into the dining room again around 5 p.m. for dinner—salad and a daily entrée, maybe a beef stirfry, with optional cake or brownies for dessert—before eventually heading up to their rooms for the evening. I can tell because whenever they leave, the hotel wifi starts working again. When they come home, I’m cut off once more from the outside world.

Gjoa Haven is remote even by Nunavut’s standards. It’s the only human settlement on King William Island, a place that’s best known for harbouring the ghosts of the lost Franklin expedition. After the abandonment of their ships, Franklin’s tattered, starving men made a grim death march across the island, hoping to reach the mainland and find help, and for years their bones scattered the land. These days, Gjoa Haven is connected to the outside world by prop plane—the infamous Kitikmeot milk runs that connect Cambridge Bay, Gjoa Haven, Taloyoak, and Kugaaruk before circling back to
Yellowknife. It’s a long haul, and when the cloud cover is thick the plane can’t even land here. I’ve already spent one
extra night. 

Before coming here, I visited Iqaluit, Pond Inlet and Cambridge Bay. In each place, I was pleasantly surprised by the speed and the reliability of the internet at my hotels. (Things have improved since my first trip to Nunavut in 2012.) But when I first arrived in Gjoa Haven, I panicked: I had editors to keep in contact with, stories to file, and the Amundsen Hotel’s wifi seemed nonexistent. Relief came when the construction workers put away their phones and tablets and trooped out of the hotel the next morning, and my phone suddenly pinged with downloaded messages and emails. 

Sure, it’s frustrating to pay nearly $300 per night for a hotel where the wifi shuts down when more than one or two guests are using it. It’s a symptom of how far our North has to go before people here can fully participate in the modern, online world. But after a day or two, I started to enjoy life on the hotel schedule. I worked efficiently while the other guests were gone, maximizing my access to the internet, and was forced to take breaks when they came home: Read a book, go for a walk, flip channels on the grainy TV. At home in Whitehorse, we joke about living on Yukon time. In Gjoa Haven, I adjusted to life on AIT: Arctic Internet Time. 

March 2017

Photo by Kevin Chan/Trent University

Fur And Fitbit

Northern research in the age of gadgetry

By Karen McColl

Photo by Kevin Chan/Trent University

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

March 2017

Mount Asgard. Photo by Artur Stanisz

The Seven Wonders Of The Arctic Archipelago

Hoodoos, craters and mountains—there's a lot to see above the 60th parallel.

By Herb Mathisen

Mount Asgard. Photo by Artur Stanisz

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Related Articles

January/February 2023

Francisca Mandeya holds a mbira.

The bridge builder

How Francisca Mandeya has challenged racial and gender inequality in Zimbabwe and the Canadian Arctic.

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Up Here Magazine - November/December 2022

Devon Allooloo out near the trapline.

A family’s tradition

Through trapping, Devon Allooloo passes on the joys of life outdoors and self-sustainability to the next generation.

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Up Here Magazine - November/December 2022

Devon Manik and sled dogs.

Dances with Dogs

A traditional hunter, a harvester for his community and an Instagram sensation, 21-year-old Devon Manik of Resolute lives with a foot in two worlds.

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Up Here Magazine - November/December 2022

Operation in Fort Liard.

The Travelling Vets of the Far North

With a limited workforce, remote geography, and an overwhelming need, providing veterinary services in the territories is no simple feat. So what does it take to care for pets in the Arctic?

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Up Here Magazine - November/December 2022

Photo by James Ruddy

Notable Northerners

The gifted Northern linguist. The saviour of peregrines. The gold medal-winning hero. Meet six movers and shakers on our "Northerner of the Year" 2022 shortlist who brought—and are bringing—the North to brave new places.

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023

Up Here Magazine - November/December 2022

Photo by Fred Chartrand/Canadian Press

“If you’re a Northerner, you’re always a Northerner."

“It’s a feeling of belonging,” says Mary Simon, whose lifetime of advocating for the North and Northerners–and whose appointment as the first Northern and Indigenous Governor General–have earned her kudos at home and abroad. Here in the North, we’re delighted to name her our 2022 Northerner of the Year.

January 27th, 2023 January 27th, 2023
Newsletter sign-up promo image.

Stay in Touch.

Our weekly newsletter brings all the best circumpolar stories right to your inbox.

Up Here magazine cover

Subscribe Now

Our magazine showcases award-winning writing and spectacular northern photos.

Subscribe

Footer Navigation

  • Advertise With Us
  • Work With Us
  • Write for Us
  • Privacy Policy
  • Disclaimers & Legal

Contact Information

Up Here Publishing
4510-50th Ave., Ste. 102
Yellowknife, NT
X1A 1B9  Canada
Phone: 867.766.6710
Fax: 867.669.0626
Email: editor@uphere.ca

Social Links

Facebook Twitter Instagram
Funded by the Government of Canada