For the PSTAR exam, I have to learn how far to stay from cariboo, reindeer (should I ever get lost and end up in Lapland) and fur farms.
Will someone please tell me how close I can fly to a septugenarian has-been musician, whose face is upheld by mega plastic surgery, and his loud-mouthed trophy wife whilst they take a sea level photo op with seals?
I can't find it in CARS anywhere.
seal hunt
Moderators: Sulako, lilfssister, North Shore, sky's the limit, sepia
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TorontoGuy
- Rank 6
- Posts: 461
- Joined: Mon Nov 28, 2005 10:39 am
- Location: Toronto
Heron:
Leave it to a newf to give us the no-bs facts of what the hunt is about. Thank you.
Intentional left bank:
If you take a look at the video footage, you'll see that all of the hunting goes on at close range. Anyone that's a half-decent shot would be able to make things relatively quick and clean. A seal on the ice is a pretty easy target. I've never been there, so I don't know first-hand...but I'd wager that the folks doing the hunting make an effort to make it quick just for their own efficency.
Leave it to a newf to give us the no-bs facts of what the hunt is about. Thank you.
Intentional left bank:
If you take a look at the video footage, you'll see that all of the hunting goes on at close range. Anyone that's a half-decent shot would be able to make things relatively quick and clean. A seal on the ice is a pretty easy target. I've never been there, so I don't know first-hand...but I'd wager that the folks doing the hunting make an effort to make it quick just for their own efficency.
Please don't tell my mother that I work in the Oilpatch...she still thinks that I'm the piano player at a whorehouse.
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Siddley Hawker
- Rank 11
- Posts: 3353
- Joined: Tue Aug 10, 2004 6:56 pm
- Location: 50.13N 66.17W
Seal oil is a very fine oil, used in some medicines and cosmetics.
I've been to the ice a few times when I was a kid, as part of the inshore fishery. Back then you were allowed to kill whitecoats. As a matter of fact, the window of opportunity for whitecoats was only about a week or ten days before they lost their white fur and went to what's called the raggedy jack stage, at which point they were not worth killing. It took a couple of weeks before they progressed to the fast fur stage, at which point they were again worth enough to kill. I didn't have the heart to club the little fcukers, I used to shoot 'em with a 22 short in the head.
Anyone remember the famous picture of Brigette Bardot on the cover of an international magazine with a whitecoat in her arms? It was a total crock of shit. The seal was a stuffed one, and the picture was taken just down the road from the airport in Blanc Sablon, at l'Anse aux Dunes. Here's what happened. She flew to Sept-Iles in a Swiss-registered Falcon 10, and overnighted. The next morning, the crew showed up at our dispatch with the intention of going into Blanc Sablon with the jet. I'd been there the day before with the DC-3, and the strip, at the time 3400 feet gravel, was about 60 - 40% bare and dry/ice patches. I was on my way back there with a DC-3 freighter. The crew hemmed and hawed a bit, then decided they'd take a crack at it. I was in BX when they landed, and they used every friggin foot of runway to get stopped. They had a helicopter there to take her and the photographer to the front where the big commercial sealers where, about 60 miles NE of St. Anthony, so she could do her thing. She then asked what would she do if she had to go pee-pee. When informed that she'd have to squat on an ice pan, she threw a hissy fit and refused to go. One of my cousins was there with a Beaver, and the next idea was for him to fly her to St. Anthony, then she's board the chopper there. That way, she could avoid having to piss on the ice. She took one look at the airplane and asked "Zoot alors! why is zere only one engeen?" and that put the kibosh to that plan. The photographer was getting kinda pissed off by now, when finally our agent in BX remarked that he had a whitecoat sitting on his living room floor in front of the stove. Some guy in Flowers Cove NF was an amateur taxidermist and had stuffed it the spring before. So this is what they did. Our guy went and got his stuffed seal, they all jumped in the snowmobile and went down the road to the ice in Bradore Bay, at l'Anse aux Dunes. She posed for the pic and the rest is history. I wasn't there when the pic was taken, because we'd buggered off back to ZV by that time, but you can take that story to the bank.
I've been to the ice a few times when I was a kid, as part of the inshore fishery. Back then you were allowed to kill whitecoats. As a matter of fact, the window of opportunity for whitecoats was only about a week or ten days before they lost their white fur and went to what's called the raggedy jack stage, at which point they were not worth killing. It took a couple of weeks before they progressed to the fast fur stage, at which point they were again worth enough to kill. I didn't have the heart to club the little fcukers, I used to shoot 'em with a 22 short in the head.
Anyone remember the famous picture of Brigette Bardot on the cover of an international magazine with a whitecoat in her arms? It was a total crock of shit. The seal was a stuffed one, and the picture was taken just down the road from the airport in Blanc Sablon, at l'Anse aux Dunes. Here's what happened. She flew to Sept-Iles in a Swiss-registered Falcon 10, and overnighted. The next morning, the crew showed up at our dispatch with the intention of going into Blanc Sablon with the jet. I'd been there the day before with the DC-3, and the strip, at the time 3400 feet gravel, was about 60 - 40% bare and dry/ice patches. I was on my way back there with a DC-3 freighter. The crew hemmed and hawed a bit, then decided they'd take a crack at it. I was in BX when they landed, and they used every friggin foot of runway to get stopped. They had a helicopter there to take her and the photographer to the front where the big commercial sealers where, about 60 miles NE of St. Anthony, so she could do her thing. She then asked what would she do if she had to go pee-pee. When informed that she'd have to squat on an ice pan, she threw a hissy fit and refused to go. One of my cousins was there with a Beaver, and the next idea was for him to fly her to St. Anthony, then she's board the chopper there. That way, she could avoid having to piss on the ice. She took one look at the airplane and asked "Zoot alors! why is zere only one engeen?" and that put the kibosh to that plan. The photographer was getting kinda pissed off by now, when finally our agent in BX remarked that he had a whitecoat sitting on his living room floor in front of the stove. Some guy in Flowers Cove NF was an amateur taxidermist and had stuffed it the spring before. So this is what they did. Our guy went and got his stuffed seal, they all jumped in the snowmobile and went down the road to the ice in Bradore Bay, at l'Anse aux Dunes. She posed for the pic and the rest is history. I wasn't there when the pic was taken, because we'd buggered off back to ZV by that time, but you can take that story to the bank.
