The Story of Agloolik

WORDS by ANGELA VOUDRACH

My story begins with Agloolik, the spirit that lives under the sea, protecting our hunters and all creatures of the water. The first time I sensed his presence was when I was a young boy travelling on the river with Aapang and Aapiyang. I could feel Agloolik’s touch on my face as we floated in our qayaq, past the hungaaqtaaq arches of trees. I remember the feeling of his crisp breath when we waded through the fresh, cool water. Our qayaq rocked while Aapang said quyanaq to Agloolik for blessing us with fresh iqaluk.

A few years later, I became an expert at hunting and fishing. I would say quyanaq to Agloolik for each iqaluk and natchiq that I captured. The breeze was warm during the summer and the branches and bushes were full of emerald, juniper and pine-coloured leaves. I could feel the warm rays of hiqñiq on my face, darkening my skin while the qugruq serenaded the wind. One particular summer day, I reached into the water to acquire the iqaluk in our net and saw him. Agloolik looked magical—his wrinkled eyes were squinted from his smile and his long, gray hair almost looked tunguyuqtaaq under the moving waves. Iqaluk and natchiq danced around his body, helping him swim with the waves. His dark eyes stared at me as he nodded a goodbye.

Many years had passed, and I did not encounter Agloolik since that first time, but I still felt his presence. Aapang had passed on, leaving Aakang, Aapiyang and myself to live without him. I would hunt for our food and clothing, but Aapiyang enjoyed preparing the meat and our kamiks with Aakang. After I hunted, I would listen to Aakang chime her beautiful song while she worked with the meat and skin; Aapiyang would hum along with her and help her stretch the skin and slice the meat. After our clothes were sewn, she would say quyanaq to Agloolik.

A few months into the summer season, Aakang had gotten sick and weak, hardly able to stand or sit for a few minutes. She asked me to take Aapiyang out on the river and teach him what Aapang had taught me, so we prepared our qayaq and tools for the afternoon trip. It took us a couple hours to walk to the river and Aapiyang told me a story he remembered when he was a boy. The crunching of leaves and twigs kept my thoughts from Aakang. Once we made it onto the river, the qayaq was being rocked from the harsh waves and the sky was chilly. We did not notice the iqaluk pushing against the qayaq until we were under the river and our mouths were filled with frozen water.

Agloolik was beneath the water with us and he did not age since I last saw him, but his smile had widened into a grin. Iqaluk and natchiq flittered around him and I saw two more figures. I squinted to see them, but they stayed in the shadows. I felt Aapiyang panic, so I grasped his hand to calm him as we floated to the surface, where Aapiyang and I grabbed hold of the qayaq. “What was that?” Aapiyang asked. “That was Agloolik, Aapiyang. He protects our oceans, our rivers and our people when they hunt. He has been here longer than you and I—even longer than Aapang. Without Agloolik, we would not have food to eat or have clothes on our backs,” I coughed and held him close.

The water suddenly became warm and the sky turned a deep sapphire, the hiqñiq just peaking out behind the evergreen trees. I looked down to Agloolik and saw the two figures perfectly. Aakang, singing her beautiful song, was holding onto Agloolik’s left hand and Aapang strongly holding his right. They both looked peaceful, calm and younger than they used to be. A tear escaped my eye when I felt a pain in my stomach and my lungs could not take in any air.

“They are going home now, my sons. There is no need to shed any tears,” a deep voice conveyed. Agloolik’s lips did not move, but I knew it was him. “Your aapang was waiting for your aakang and his impatience caused a disturbance in the weather. He is happy to be by her side now. They are both content.”

I looked at Aapiyang and the tears rolled down his face. “I want to go with them,” he whispered, trying to push me away.

“You are not ready to come yet, my son. You have a wonderful life ahead of you and you must fulfill it together,” Agloolik encouraged.

My arms tightened around Aapiyang as we glided to the shore. Our clothes were heavy with water. Agloolik moved along the river as iqaluk and natchiq moved Aapang and Aakang to where they belonged: home.

“This does not call for goodbye or a time for mourning, Aapiyang. It is time to delight as our parents are resting together. We must say quyanaq to Agloolik for giving them their happy ending,” I said. Our heads faced down as we silently appreciated the Great Spirit. “Now let’s find our happy ending.” I reached for Aapiyang’s hand and we ran off to our tent before the hiqñiq completely set. Now you see, we must find our own paths in life with spectacular kindness and great respect for our people and our lands, because Agloolik lives on forever. He will protect us and lead us home in the end; he will bless us with many iqaluk, natchiq and other food and materials for our friends and families.

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Angela Voudrach is an Inuvialuit beneficiary, born and raised in Inuvik, NT. Because her family is very musical, she grew up singing and playing the guitar. Angela loves reading, but mostly, she has been crocheting and beading to pass the time. Angela had her son in 2018 and her focus now is to build a great life for him, so she hopes to pursue a career in early childhood learning and development.