The Iqaluit Greenhouse Society seeks 80 green-thumbed recruits this season

Tired of rubbery, flavourless tomatoes, cracked and wrinkled green peppers and partially decomposed cucumber?

Such sights are common in the produce aisles of Iqaluit stores, which serve as retirement homes, if not funeral parlours, for what were once fresh vegetables.

But there is an alternative. The Iqaluit Greenhouse Society, as it gears up for its second growing season, is once again looking for about 80 dedicated recruits.

On the face of it, they're asking people to pay good money to do chores: bang nails into planters, haul buckets of dirt and water, plant seeds, and of course, water plants.

But not only are these activities strangely fulfilling in themselves, promises the society's president John Lamb, but in the end, you will get fresh food. In Iqaluit, that's a real treat.

The first growing season was a success, Lamb declares.

Most importantly, the greenhouse still stands. The 20-by-50 foot structure, built from steel and polycarbonate plastic, survived its first true Arctic storm in February 2007, when winds gusted to 120 km/hr.

And, despite getting off to a late start, growers managed to produce 100 pounds of produce last season, from early July to late August.

Quick-growing salad crops fared the best last year: tomatoes, lettuce, turnips, runner beans and carrots. For some volunteers, who have lived in Iqaluit their whole lives, it was their first taste of truly fresh produce.

Lamb expects a more bountiful harvest this year, if the group is successful in stretching the growing season from early May to the end of September.

Temperature control is crucial for this to happen. Too much sunlight and not enough ventilation caused the greenhouse to heat up to 50 C last spring – hot enough to bake any plants – while it was -30 C outside.

Since then, a computer has been installed that automatically opens vents as the greenhouse heats up.

Cold nights are another problem. In late August, temperatures at night plunge below zero. Keeping the greenhouse above 6 C is crucial, Lamb says, otherwise "the plants object, strenuously, by dying."

So the greenhouse uses a "passive solar heating system," which is a fancy way of describing rows of plastic garbage bins full of water, which heat up during the day and slowly release warmth during the cold evenings.

But this isn't enough for plants to survive colder nights in September, so a forced-air furnace will be installed, to be automatically triggered when the temperature drops. The heater is powered by fuel, but the group hopes to one day acquire solar panels.

The Iqaluit Greenhouse Society, established in 2001, once had ambitious plans to raise $4 million to build a sprawling, 11,000 foot greenhouse complete with an attached café, retail store and community centre.

The scaled-down greenhouse that now stands, built at a cost of about $180,000, was originally described as a pilot project. But Lamb now figures it's enough to keep him and fellow members busy for the next five to 10 years.

"In retrospect, I'm glad we didn't do that," Lamb says of the mega-project. "There's just so much to learn in opening a greenhouse."

But he has another big dream: a similar community greenhouse, one day, for each community in Nunavut. Lamb says the society has already received several queries from Nunavummiut who would like to start similar projects in their home communities.

It may be out of the Iqaluit Greenhouse Society's reach to grow enough food for all of the capital, but Lamb figures a smaller community of 1,000 people could grow much of its own produce.

And, Lamb says, a greenhouse brings plenty of other perks other than food.

During the summer the Iqaluit greenhouse is warm and full of sunlight, the smell of plants and freshly tilled soil. Gardening, Lamb says, is something "people just feel healthy doing."

Iqaluit has enough bad influences, he says. The greenhouse offers another good one, for a $25 membership fee, and $50 to share a plot with four other members.

"It's not just a club for horticulturists, either," Lamb says. "We very much see this as a facility for the community."

Experienced gardeners are glad to offer tips to new members, Lamb says, including a crash course offered at the beginning of the season.

"We're basically saying you get six months of entertainment," he says. "And you get food out of it."