King Island
When the prospectors working their bedroom sized gold claims on the beach at Nome in 1900 wanted to buy something to take back home, there were native ivory carvers camped close by and displaying their wares for sale.
These were Inupiats from King Island, a remote dot 40 northwest of Nome in the Bering Sea. In winter the 400 or so residents would hunt on the ice that surrounded the island for walrus, seal and fish and crab through the ice. Steep sided, the only access was by boat. The natives built umiaks with seal and walrus skins sewn together and stretched over a frame of driftwood lashed together. At 30-35’ the umiaks were big enough to take whole families and camping gear across to Nomer. In winter they fished through the ice, waiting patiently for seals to pop up at breathing holes in the ice.
Basically the King Islanders lived a subsistence lifestyle supplemented by supplies brought by the steamer North Star once a year. They lived in modest cabins built on driftwood pilings on the steep and rocky sides of the island in a village called Ukivok.
Located so close to the Arctic Circle, daylight was a scarce commodity in the middle of the winter. Often in that darkest part of the winter, the villagers would gather in the men’s communal house for drumming and dancing with masks, a tradition going back as far as anyone can remember. KIng Island masks were known for their flat aspect and occasional decoration with feathers, drirftwood etc.
Once an Alaskan visitor remarked on a King Island mask and was put in touch with the carver. A year or so later the mask arrived, thrilling the purchaser, who was surprised that the check she sent to the carver was never cashed. She asked her contact, who replied that as there was no bank on the remote island, her check might actually never get presented to her bank, but not to worry, it was received and just was in circulation around the island, worth whatever she wrote it for.
Around 1960 the Bureau of Indian Affairs (BIA) closed the school on King Island as being too expensive and remote to staff and operate. This had the unplanned effect of doing something that the BIA had actually wanted to do for a long time - get the islanders to move to the mainland. Without the school aged children to help their parents hunt and fish, just getting by became extremely difficult and by 1970 the island was totally abandoned and deserted, leaving the forlorn sight of the village buildings slowly sliding down the steep rocky slopes into the sea.
