By Nicki Escudero
By Amy Silverman
By Brian Palmer
By Chris Parker
By Troy Farah
By Lauren Wise
By Lauren Wise
Right. Tuk kids, as a rule, are metal heads.
Of course, Metallica rocked. The kids lapped up the volume as their elders moved to special bleachers in the back of the tent. By now, many parents were outside. I joined them for some air and interaction.
I saw David Knight from the Marine Conservation Center. Molson had kicked his group some bucks as well, and, earlier in the evening, Knight had made an obligatory "Save the Seas" speech. I asked him if he'd taken a dip in the Arctic Ocean. "Yep," he said, "it's cold and clean."
Metallica played an hour past the concert's scheduled end, and by the time the concert let out, it was dark and the wind was blowing snow at a 45-degree angle. Rachel and I made our way back to camp, where we met a young Tuktoyuktukian who was elated over the music.
Her name was Chauna Gruben. She was 19, and invited us to her apartment in the village. We hung out, listened to some Nirvana, and before long she started to chuckle.
"I just remembered the funniest thing I saw this week," she said. "A couple of tourists were swimming in the lagoon where we butcher whales for muktuk. It's like a garbage dump, and these guys were splashing around. I just couldn't tell them."
I thought back to Knight's "cold and clean" comment and laughed to myself.
Chauna also told me she had partied the previous night with Hole guitarist Eric Erlandson. "He was funny, and cute, too," she said. "I went back over [to the party pad, her cousin's place] this morning, and he was still passed out on the couch." Chauna showed me a shirt Erlandson had signed for her. It read, "Suck My Cock. Eric Erlandson, Hole."
Chauna and I went for a walk and ran into her uncle, who looked at least 50 years old. "The concert was great," he said. "I loved Metallica."
I asked Chauna if the Beach Party was all she'd hoped for. "Yep," she said happily, then leaned close. "Now I just need to see