In the remote, windswept Arctic hamlet of Gjoa Haven, where trees are a distant memory, a revolutionary shift is underway. Locals, like Betty Kogvik, who previously had no interest in plant life, are now cultivating an abundance of fresh produce.
For weeks each winter, Gjoa Haven plunges into total darkness. Even in summer, the only greenery consists of low-lying shrubs clinging to the tundra, hundreds of miles from the nearest, scrawny trees on the Canadian mainland.
Yet, defying all odds, Betty Kogvik is now a year-round grower of strawberries, carrots, broccoli, bell peppers, microgreens, and a surprising variety of other fresh fruits and vegetables.
As an Inuit resident, a people with little historical connection to plant cultivation, Ms. Kogvik proudly states, ‘I didn’t know anything about plants before. Now I’m a green thumb!’
She works inside a high-tech greenhouse, a true marvel that delivers fresh, local produce to the region for the very first time. Housed within insulated shipping containers, deliberately cut off from the harsh Arctic exterior, plants flourish under artificial lights in a carefully controlled environment, sustained by consistent heating and a mix of soil and water.
This ambitious greenhouse project aims to offer a vital alternative to expensive, perishable foods typically flown in from southern Canada. Researchers anticipate it will foster healthier diets for the Inuit, who have been the sole inhabitants of Canada’s Arctic for centuries.
Historically, the nomadic Inuit flourished on a diet rich in raw meat and fish, which provided essential nutrients missing from their plant-scarce environment. In contrast, many European Arctic explorers, including the ill-fated Franklin expedition near Gjoa Haven, succumbed to vitamin deficiencies during their quest for the Northwest Passage.
Fast forward to today, and many Inuit across Canada’s vast Arctic, including those in Gjoa Haven, navigate a complex culinary landscape blending traditional foods with Western options. After being settled into hamlets by the Canadian government in the 1960s, many now live more sedentary lives, relying on local supermarkets. This shift has led to rising obesity rates and Canada’s highest levels of food insecurity. For Gjoa Haven’s 1,500 residents, the high cost and often poor quality of fresh produce at their two local stores have been a long-standing frustration.
Years prior, Gjoa Haven’s elders approached the Arctic Research Foundation, a Canadian private organization, expressing interest in a greenhouse. Having previously partnered with the community to locate a sunken Franklin ship in 2016, the foundation was eager to continue their collaborative efforts.
In 2019, specially adapted shipping containers were installed on a hill outside the village, a site selected by the elders. Powered by wind turbines, solar panels, and a diesel generator for backup, these containers now form ‘Naurvik’ — ‘the growing place’ in Inuit — a self-sufficient greenhouse.
For many Inuit, including Ms. Kogvik, who had no prior experience with gardening, the initial stages of working at the greenhouse were daunting. She vividly recalls her panic when the foundation’s researchers departed Gjoa Haven after establishing the facility in 2019.
She recounts telling them, ‘In a couple of days, you’re going to hear me screaming and shouting because all the plants will be dead!’ Yet, to her own surprise, she was harvesting fresh produce just two weeks later.
Now, Ms. Kogvik acts as a mentor, training new staff such as 35-year-old Kyle Aglukkaq. Mr. Aglukkaq remembers being captivated by an episode on plants in ‘The Magic School Bus’ as a child, but without any real-life exposure, he initially thought plants were incredibly delicate.
He discovered, to his delight, that ‘actually you don’t have to be really careful with them.’
Ms. Kogvik playfully added, ‘You can rough them up!’
Together, they carefully nurtured a diverse range of vegetables and fruits, flourishing in both soil and water-based systems within the two shipping containers.
Holding a vibrant red strawberry, Ms. Kogvik proudly declared, ‘This is a really impressive strawberry. These are a bit sweeter and tastier than those in the stores, which often taste old.’
That afternoon, Ms. Kogvik meticulously packed fresh greens into bags for the hamlet’s community center. Produce from the greenhouse is consistently shared with local elders and the search and rescue team.
Currently, the greenhouse operates on a smaller scale, also serving as a research hub partially funded by the Canadian Space Agency. Tom Henheffer, CEO of the Arctic Research Foundation, noted that the project has incurred approximately 5 million Canadian dollars ($3.6 million USD) in construction and operating costs since 2019.
However, Mr. Henheffer anticipates a significant expansion over the next three years, with the greenhouse transitioning to full-scale production. The foundation envisions a future where the greenhouse, alongside a processing and export facility for local products like Arctic char, will establish economic self-sufficiency for Gjoa Haven and other Inuit communities.
They also aim to secure eligibility for a federal program that subsidizes retailers transporting healthy perishable goods from southern Canada.
“Instead of funds going to southern grocers,” Mr. Henheffer explained, “that money would empower community members here to grow their own food.”
Inside the Co-op, another of Gjoa Haven’s two supermarkets, 28-year-old Hailey Okpik shopped with her infant daughter strapped to her back. She purchased a week’s supply of groceries for her family of six – including milk, fruits, vegetables, and prepared meals – totaling a staggering 914 Canadian dollars ($660 USD).
While prices are consistent across both supermarkets, Ms. Okpik noted her preference for the Co-op, as it is proudly owned by the community.
Most supplies reach Gjoa Haven via an annual sealift, but fresh produce and other perishable items are flown in weekly from northern Manitoba.
During the harsh Arctic winter, with temperatures plummeting to minus 40 Fahrenheit, fresh produce can freeze and spoil within minutes during the brief journey from the airport to the supermarket. Moussa Ndiaye, the Co-op’s manager for three years, describes the challenge: ‘In winter, bananas freeze very quickly, and sometimes watermelons arrive completely frozen. We have to discard them immediately.’
Duane Wilson, a vice president at Winnipeg-based Arctic Co-ops, an organization overseeing local co-ops in the Arctic, explains that high transportation costs and the limited retail scale contribute to inflated prices. However, critics often accuse the supermarkets of overcharging.
Regardless of the underlying causes, the harsh reality is that nearly 60 percent of Nunavut’s population, spread across small northern communities like Gjoa Haven, cannot afford sufficient food in terms of quantity and quality. Official Canadian government data confirms Nunavut suffers the highest food insecurity rate in the country, more than double the average of the ten provinces.
Just a few generations ago, Gjoa Haven, like many other Indigenous communities, transitioned from a traditional nomadic way of life.
Tony Akoak, 67, a representative for the hamlet in Nunavut’s legislature, recounts growing up on animals and fish hunted by his father. Yet, he himself never acquired these vital hunting and fishing skills, which have gradually faded among younger Inuit generations.
“They’re simply going to the store and buying junk food,” Mr. Akoak observed.
Despite this, Mr. Akoak remains hopeful, believing that with Canadian government support, the greenhouse can expand to supply fresh produce to many residents. Witnessing the profound changes in Gjoa Haven during his lifetime, he expressed astonishment that fruits and vegetables are now cultivated year-round.
“Anything can grow here,” he concluded, “if you look after it properly.”