Fear was not a factor

KIRSTEN MURPHY

Gripped by nausea and motivated to travel, six Iqaluit residents made history last week by competing in the city’s first Fear Factor challenge.

Toonik Tyme Fear Factor, modeled after the American television show, had contestants chewing and later wading through country food discards mixed with earthworms and fish blood. The prize was a $5,000 trip to the Caribbean.

Spectators lined up for hours for a seat at the Royal Canadian Legion. The show sold out and dozens of disappointed people were turned away.

Inside, the packed house buzzed with anticipation.

When a contestant’s name was called, audience members set aside their drinks and erupted in applause and whistles. Harry Flaherty and Elizabeth Allakariallak Roberts, two of the six competitors, had their own cheering section of placard-waving supporters.

Unlike the televised Fear Factor, Iqaluit’s stars had to perform two, not three, fear-challenging events. In the first challenge, contestants had to consume either worms mixed with fish blood, caribou guts or just plain worms.

Competitors took turns standing under the brightly lit dance floor, plastic cup in hand. One contestant played with the audience, holding up a handful of worms before devouring them. Seconds later, the young man was lining a garbage can with the contents of his stomach. He straightened himself out and the crowd started singing “Na, na, na, na, hey, hey, hey, good-bye.”

Vomiting was an automatic cause for disqualification.

In the second challenge, contestants had their feet and hands bound while standing in a tank of guts, blood and Jell-O. Their goal was to find keys in the sludge and unlock themselves.

After emerging from the pink stinky tank, contestants slipped black garbage bags on each leg. Sporting what looked like hip waders, the soggy participants offered waves to the crowd and wandered off in search of clean clothes.

Spencer Dewar, 28, won the illustrious Fear Factor title by choking down a cocktail of fish blood, live worms and caribou guts in less than five minutes. He said the drink, aptly named the Caribou Surprise, had the texture of watered-down soil and tasted like “poop.”

Dewar shook like an erupting volcano as he scooped handfuls of the odorous sludge to his mouth. He fought to swallow the slimy concoction and keep the putrid mixture down. People in the front row screamed in bemused disgust.

The paler Dewar grew the wilder the crowd became.

Dewar, who didn’t drink a drop of alcohol before the event, can’t remember either challenge.

“After I had my first finger full of poop I didn’t want to do it anymore. Then I blacked out. The next thing I know, I’ve won,” Spencer said.

He credits luck, stupidity and adrenaline with getting him through.

Would he do it again?

“Never say never but not in the next couple of weeks, for sure. I’m still a little shell shocked,” he said.

Dewar is taking his girlfriend with him to the Caribbean.

“She thinks I won it on a scratch ticket. She’s in Halifax, she knows nothing,” he said with a laugh.

But victory has a price. The next day, even with the most vigorous tooth brushing, Dewar couldn’t stop smelling and tasting poop, he said.

The only solace has been a friend’s secret blend of ice tea.

His advice to future Iqaluit Fear Factor contestants is to think big.

“Win. Because if you don’t win, it’s not worth it,” he said.

Dewar’s parents, visiting from Dartmouth, Nova Scotia, had front row seats for the event.

“It was very disturbing,” said Lois Dewar. “He likes to be in a crowd but he’s not a daredevil.”