My adventure at the tank farm
Last Tuesday, after bidding adieu to the ice camp team and doing a few errands around town, I decided fill the jerry cans. The gas pump in town has been broken for a week so, thus necessitating a visit to the tank farm south of the airport. I must have arrived a little before 10am, because the pump wasn’t yet open. So, I sat in the truck and listened to the news on the radio. Seven minutes later, the CBC news lasts precisely 7 minutes; I turned off the radio and attempted to start the truck. It wouldn’t turn over. Joe, the pump jockey came tearing along the road around 10:15 on his ATV. Neither he nor I had jumper cables, my VHF radio was out of range and his CB was back in town. Joe filled my jerry cans and headed off to the power plant, the closest buildings, to ask for help. Upon returning he told me that there were no jumper cables to be found, but offered to push my truck into town…with his ATV. Needless to say, I was a little leery. But I got behind the wheel, put the truck in neutral and enjoyed the ride as my buddy Joe and his ATV pushed me at an impressive speed into town, dropping me off directly in front the town garage. Before I could get out of the truck to say thank you, Joe had turned around and was gone. The rule of the land in isolated communities, such as Qikiqtarjuaq, is that you help anybody that is in need and never leave anybody stranded. Thanks Joe.