Northern Isles folklore has elusive traditions of Finn Folk, arriving fleetingly in Shetland and Orkney in their little ocean going craft, having arrived there from goodness knows where. In reality - if there were not supernatural creatures, they may have been far flung voyagers from the Arctic Circle, people who used to be called Eskimos. During Dundee's fascinating whaling era, occasional inhabitants from the arctic regions were brought back to the city. Today of course they would be recognised as Inuits, but to the Scots who brought them and the others who saw them in Dundee would have termed them Eskimos or Eskimaux, or a nickname which was almost certainly derogatory, Yaks or Yackies. Another variation was Yackie Yaws, and there is reference to sailors bringing home dolls with such a name for their daughters, which were dressed up in native costumes. The Scottish National Dictionary is unsure of the origin of this term, but ponders whether it may be Dutch. I am tempted to see a connection with the Danish word kajak (adopted into English in the mid 18th century as kayak), which apparently comes from a native Greenland term for boat, qayaq.
A fair estimation of an 'educated' British man's view of native people in the far north can be gleaned by the following description derived from the words of ship's surgeon Matthew Campbell of the vessel Nova Zembla, who describes his impressions of the people in the Greenland settlement of Leively in 1884:
Somewhere around 1890, Captain Adams brought home Almick, who was a native of the
Qikiqtaaluk region of Nunavut. Earlier arrivals in Scotland were not always in Dundee, and they came through a variety of means. Norman Watson states that the earliest was an arrival in Edinburgh in 1816, a stowaway who was called John Sakehouse. Just over twenty years later there was a native man in Aberdeeen called Eenooloopik. Watson states that the first Inuit known in Dundee was likely a man named Ococok, rescued from adrift ice at Cape Kater. He was exhibited in Macfarlane's Music Hall in the town, but his treatment otherwise is reported to have been good. The story about being unadapted to the Dundee weather is also attributed to him. On the way back north on the Ravenscraig, he died of consumption, an unwanted European gift.
Alison Campsie, 'The forgotten Inuit ‘human zoo’ of Dundee’s whaling past,' The Scotsman, 04 December 2015. https://www.scotsman.com/lifestyle-2-15039/the-forgotten-inuit-human-zoo-of-dundee-s-whaling-past-1-3967007
European Attitudes
They come aboard with a sack filled with slippers, tobacco pouches, bags, etc. made of sealskins ornimented with dyed leather. They are as a rule harmless creatures and very cheery. The men only are allowed to come aboard, they call themselves Huskeys and their wives or the women Coonies, the children Piggenenies... The engineer and I went up to their houses tonight, or Toopicks, they are made of wood, roofs being covered with moss. You require to crawl in on all fours as the door is very small, but we crawled out very quick as they had a terrible smell.
Winter Visitors
We will never know how many Inuit came back to Dundee through the decades when the whaling ships went back and forth to their lands, not can we be certain that their motives for coming south were always the same. At the same time, the motives of those who commanded the vessels in bringing them to Dundee may not always have been identical. The most common assertion is that ships' masters brought native people to Dundee to display them in music halls as a source of amusement (and possibly revenue) and also to have them work in the dock areas processing whale carcasses. The suspicion of exploitation takes precedence from the lofty heights of the 21st century and it certainly seems to be the case that those far north natives who did stay for a period in Dundee were not remunerated greatly for their work.
Yet there was an element of missionary zeal among some whalers and those land bound inhabitants of Dundee. Some of them undoubtedly thought they were performing a kindness to introduce Inuit to both Christianity and the superior secular trappings of Victorian European civilisation. And, it has to be admitted, some native people from the whaling regions came south all too willingly. What did they make of Dundee? How strange it must have seemed to them. I came across what I initially believed to be a joke which stated one Inuit gentleman cut short his sojourn in Dundee because he found the weather too cold. Yet this sentiment is said to have been expressed by an Inuit visitor - Almick from Cumberland Sound - and must surely be a reference not to the specific temperature but the prevailing dreich, damp and miserable weather prevalent in winter in east central Scotland.
Somewhere around 1890, Captain Adams brought home Almick, who was a native of the
Qikiqtaaluk region of Nunavut. Earlier arrivals in Scotland were not always in Dundee, and they came through a variety of means. Norman Watson states that the earliest was an arrival in Edinburgh in 1816, a stowaway who was called John Sakehouse. Just over twenty years later there was a native man in Aberdeeen called Eenooloopik. Watson states that the first Inuit known in Dundee was likely a man named Ococok, rescued from adrift ice at Cape Kater. He was exhibited in Macfarlane's Music Hall in the town, but his treatment otherwise is reported to have been good. The story about being unadapted to the Dundee weather is also attributed to him. On the way back north on the Ravenscraig, he died of consumption, an unwanted European gift.
Olnick arrived in late 1876 and attracted some fame, meeting amongst others the Prince of Wales. Back home, he maintained friendly relations with other visiting whalers from Dundee and became fatally ill on the whaling vessel Eclipse in the year 1900, though he insisted on being taken ashore to die. Next recorded is Urio Etwango, a visitor for five months in 1886, and some sailors reckoned that he did not want to return to his native region. The major celebrity was Shoodlue, an arrival in 1894, who achieved wild popularity in Dundee. He took to tobacco consumption with alacrity, but disdained alcohol. He was prompted to return home because he missed his children, though he stated he did not miss his wives.
There were other occasional visitors from the region in the city as late as 1925, and their history is a mixture of exploitation, adventure, whimsy and misunderstanding.
The final word goes to the provost of Dundee who, when faced with a representative of a remarkable culture seldom before seem in Scotland, could only summon up the trite remark, which links back to the old Dundee weather joke:
'Cold today,' he said.
There were other occasional visitors from the region in the city as late as 1925, and their history is a mixture of exploitation, adventure, whimsy and misunderstanding.
The final word goes to the provost of Dundee who, when faced with a representative of a remarkable culture seldom before seem in Scotland, could only summon up the trite remark, which links back to the old Dundee weather joke:
'Cold today,' he said.
Sources and References
History Shelf: Hunting the Whale. https://sites.scran.ac.uk/secf_final/whale/links/link3.php
Scottish National Dictionary. https://www.dsl.ac.uk/entry/snd/yack_n1
Norman Watson, The Dundee Whalers (East Linton, 2003).
Norman Watson, The Dundee Whalers (East Linton, 2003).
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