Anyone for Aqraorak?

As the second biennial Arctic Winter Games got under way this month in Whitehorse, Yukon Territory, it became painfully clear that the organization of the event left something to be desired. Take the case of Simon Tookoome, the Northwest Territories' leading ipirautaqturniq (precision whip flicking) virtuoso. Not only did Too-koome have no competition in his specialty, but the games committee was not even certain that another whip maestro had been invited. For his part, Tookoome left his sealskin whip at home in Baker Lake. But resourcefulness, as much as ipirautaqturniq, is the name of the game. Improvising a whip from a length of rope, Tookoome put on a crackling display highlighted by the extraction of a toothpick from the sole of an assistant's boot at 25 ft.

Some might call the noncompetitive performance a hollow triumph, native sports do not even call for medals. There are, however, gold, silver and bronze ulus (medals shaped like the Eskimo whale-skinning knife) for individual and team winners in such conventional sports as cross-country skiing, figure skating, basketball, ice hockey and table tennis. The combination of exotic native feats and intense territorial rivalry have made the games the liveliest sporting event north of the 60th parallel.

Ear Pull. While there was no one to stand up to Tookoome in ipirautaqturniq, there was competition aplenty in aqraorak and nalukataak. Mickey Gordon, 23, an Eskimo from Inuvik, and Reggie Joule, a sophomore at the University of Alaska, battled for honors in aqraorak. The event consists of trying to kick a sealskin ball dangling from a pole. Kicking furiously aloft, Gordon came within a toe of breaking his own world record of 8 ft. 2 in. Joule --all 5 ft. 5 in. of him--performed just as brilliantly, though it must be remembered that aqraorak is not his forte. Joule is the world champion in nalukataak, in which contestants bounce on a walrus hide held fireman-style by two dozen assistants. Joule bounced to within inches of the ceiling in the town's gymnasium but later confessed that he does not really know what determines a winner in his chosen sport. "I think it has something to do with height and form," he said.

Many of the native contests held at Whitehorse evolved from the self-torture games devised by the Eskimos long ago. Explains Roger Kunayak, another University of Alaska student: "The traditional Eskimo life included lots of pain--hunger, cold, frozen ears. So indoors we would torture ourselves to get used to the pain." To drive home his point, Kunayak swept the field in his own fearful event, the knuckle hop, by hopping 40 ft. on his toes and knuckles. Other such tests of mettle include the finger pull (two combatants locking middle fingers and pulling until one hollers uncle) and the ear pull, in which the toughest ears in the Arctic are wound with cord and pitted against each other in a tug of war.

Botch. The Arctic Games were inspired by the abysmal performances of the athletes from the Yukon and Northwest Territories in conventional sports at the Canada Winter Games held in Quebec City in 1967. Says Lou LeFaive, director of Sports Canada: "The idea was to provide a level of competition that would enable Northerners to develop skills at a rate more compatible with that in the South." Native events were included to add to the fun.

The games at Whitehorse proved that the quality of play in the Northern provinces has measurably improved. The same cannot be said for the advance planning of the Northerners--especially those at Baker Lake. Tookoome's lapse aside, the townsfolk made rather a botch of things in the aksunaiqtuq (rope gymnastics). In place of their gymnastics team, they inexplicably dispatched an old Eskimo drum dancer--without her drum.

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