Excerpt from Potential route of Shearpoint natives to the Georges Bank, American Journal of Archeology (2014)
"For too long, it had been erroneously thought, either due to lack of archeological evidence, a comparison made to the fate of the Mossfell Norse, or western chauvinistic views, that indigenous people trapped on the islands had dwindled to oblivion after the catastrophe, unable to adapt to a changed world. But the plethora of artifacts found by fishermen in the Georges Bank or discovered during the construction of the artificial George's Island lighthouse have shed light that perhaps, some of these people found a new home - at least for a while."
***
As lightning arced overhead and salty spray lurched the raft, Taquan knew that this wasn't going to plan. Even from the start of their voyage, the waves had knocked them off course, and now storm clouds hung over them. Far off in the distance, now barely even dots on the horizon, she could see the southern islands they were aiming for beneath menacing dark clouds. They had seen smoke rising from one of the green hills, but the current proved too strong for their paddles, and the smoke faded into a thin grey wisp on the horizon's scalp. The waves tugged them away like a great arm and pulled them into the dark blue waves of the northern waters.
A huge squall washed over the raft, filling her mouth with foam. Sanquan let out a piercing shriek as Kuna wailed in his lap. Kunqq, Tunqquallk, and Taquan desperately paddled towards the impossibly far islands. Only Annsa stood on the boat, her small and feeble frame kept up by some unknown power against the wind and waves.
"Ancestors, I beseech you call upon our first spirit! Mauunitqq as you once gave the sea your fruit to placate it, please grant us the same miracle. Call your peace upon the water, so we may find ourselves in a new home!" Her clouded eyes were transfixed on the turbulent sky above, her fingers outreached toward the darkening horizon.
As the waves continued to crash down around them Annsa stood firm. Calling upon the supernatural to fortify her body, she raised her pleas to the heavens. Between the crests of waves, Kuna yelled out "Look there! White islands on the horizon!" Tunqquallk knew better. As the raft jostled Kunqq and Sanquan began to chant prayers with Annsa, they would need all the help from Mauunitqq and the ancestors they could get.
***
The waters had finally calmed down enough to let the beleaguered voyagers walk across their tiny raft. Her stomach rumbling Taquan went to retrieve a dried fish from their dwindling supplies. As she walked back to her rowing spot, she felt her body lurch with the raft as it crested over a wave. She desperately gripped the wooden floorboards as she felt herself tumble overboard, her legs splashing frantically in the shockingly cold water. In an instant Tunqquallk grabbed her arm and pulled her back up "You okay?" He moronically asked, as if falling overboard in the middle of the ocean was okay. Taquan grunted and shrugged his hand off and returned to seat. The 'white islands' were upon them. No longer small snowflakes on the horizon, these icebergs towered above the tiny raft as they bobbed between, avoiding getting crushed between them.
"Oh Ancestors! Hear my plea to the spirit of all. Call upon Mauunitqq to rest the spirit of the cold winters" Annsa still chanted from the center of the raft, clouded eyes to the sky and hands to the horizon. It had been nearly three whole days since their raft had left the shores. Somehow they had avoided drowning in the storm on the first day, but they completely overshot their target. Now they were adrift in the cold waters north of their start, with no land to be seen. Instead before them was a patchwork of icy rafts and mountains bobbing in the dark blue water. The ice towered above them and prevented them to peer toward the horizon beyond on any side. On some of the icebergs seals and birds lazily lay in the sun, letting out barks, honks, and chittering as the raft would pass. Taquan wondered if there was ever a chance a people could even live on the ice, with no soil or trees to ever set foot upon.
Sanquan, trying her best to be useful grabbed a handaxe and began to hack at tiny piece of nearby ice, taking a piece of it off and putting it in a gourd. The water from the ice was still saltier than Taquan would like, but it beat drinking the ocean water or not drinking at all. Above the raft circled Kuna's silly pet Roqqui. It had the good manners to be quiet during the stressful onset of the voyage, but now it constantly called out to the five humans on the raft. "Hello! Hello! Kuna! Hello!" Even mild Kunqq began to bristle at his son's pet. Threatening to provide a roast bird feast to the raft if Kuna did not silence him.
Despite the threats of roasting, Roqqui circled above chittering and screeching for the rest of the day. "Hello! Helllloooooo! KunakukuKuna!" It looked like it was getting more agitated, which didn't help any of the people on the boat. Even Annsa looked annoyed as she could no longer chant to the spirits without the bird interrupting her.
"Roqqui please come down, you're making mom and dad mad" Kuna pleaded glumly. "I don't want you to become a roast feast". But the bird continued to chitter, it landed on a nearby iceberg and screeched loudly enough to make the seals on it chuff and slide off. Even the surrounding nature appeared to be turned away from the bird's babble. Finally, Roqqui looked around, flew up and then off into the distance.
"Roqqui where are you going?" Kuna shouted. "Roqqui?" In his desperation to not lose his pet, Kuna jumped onto a flat iceberg nearby, attempting to run toward the bird.
"Kuna no!" Kunqq and Sanquan immediately grabbed the paddles, knowing they couldn't set foot on the ice without breaking it. They began to paddle the raft around the iceberg their son and the bird disappeared behind. The passengers could hear the bird's calls and their son's voice lagging behind. As they passed the towering iceberg, Taquan realized what the bird had been getting agitated over. Off in the distance lay a flat island of verdant trees with chunks of ice bobbing before it. But most importantly, on the bleached tan shores she saw faint figures walking about, pushing boats out. Taquan could even make out faint cooking fires on the beach. As the rest of the passengers turned to face the island on the horizon, they sat dumbfounded. Kuna returned to the boat, with a now placated Roqqui on his shoulder. Taquan gave the bird a puzzled glance, surprised that behind it's glossy orange eyes it had the capability to actually help instead of just provide headaches.
***
Seabirds chattered above as fine grains of sand slipped between Taquan's hands. After a terrifying three day voyage, the beach and calm waves lapping it felt like friends embracing her. Ahead of the beached raft, Kunqq and Annsa talked to the two of the people of this island. One man that towered even over the large Kunqq and one wise woman, not yet as wizened as Annsa but still rather advanced. The islanders wore light clothing around their waist, embroidered with goose feathers. They scanned the new arrivals cautiously and the large man hefted a bleached club fashioned from driftwood.
Taquan attempted to eavesdrop on their conversation. They did not speak the same language as she did, but a few words could still be understood. Home... Seabird... Beyond Sea. Their language felt lighter and choppier, like someone had taken their speech and hacked away the fat. She could tell Annsa and Kunqq could begin to piece together what the island people were saying, while the rest of the voyagers relaxed in the sand. Beyond them all, the entire islander village peered from behind boats and small wooden shacks at the curious arrivals. Small villager children, especially curious attempted to inch closer to the arrivals by hiding in tall grass, their little heads easily visible.
During the year Annsa, Taquan, and Tunqquallk searched for others, Annsa once told her about other people in the far north on the islands coated with ice. They lived from the bounty of the ocean and creatures who wandered the big ice. Like them, they also hunted the mammoths and seals. Annsa told her another legend of creation. That of the flourishing of the peoples. At some point, the peoples of the first islands the tree spirit and sea created became too many. In order to prevent collapse of the villages, some had ventured out to settle in even further islands. These voyages were tumultuous and dangerous, and many of the people were claimed by the sea. Even more however made it to the islands beyond which the tree spirit had also sown into the sea. Annsa that those from her home had once sailed from an island of big ice and frigid cold hundreds of generations ago. She wondered if that meant they were still going to be accepted by these islanders as family.
Taquan heard laughter come from Kunqq, Annsa, and the two island people. Kuna walked up to the meeting and was showing them Roqqui. H was explaining how the bird had shown them the way to the island. The islanders may not have spoken the same language, but he could very much understand the surprise on the islander's faces at this odd bird. The elderly island woman then called the rest of their village over to the new arrivals. Quickly the village gave all of them dry hides and seared fish as they ushered them toward their settlement with all the sensation of a grand family reunion. As they were embraced and ushered by the villagers, Tunqquallk turned to her "Do you think we'll ever go back to our old home?"
Taquan didn't know how to answer that. She missed the island he grew up on, she missed mostly her mother, but she also felt like those islands were now a place of death to her. They were the ending of one of Annsa's tales. "I don't think we'll ever be back Tunqquallk . But maybe one day, our ancestors will beckon our spirits back home."
Tunqquallk nodded, a similar emotion could be seen in his eyes. Their time there was over. It was time for a new beginning.