Kangiqsujuaq’s last shaman, a tale retold in Pingualuit Park
Land and stories go hand in hand in new adventure offered by Nunavik Parks
Qingngua is the name of the region where Kangiqsujuaq’s bay connects to the land. During low tide, people can walk along the shoreline all the way to land. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)
This is part two of a three-part series on the 20th anniversary of Nunavik Parks. Nunatsiaq News was invited to visit Kangiqsujuaq and experience parts of the Pingualuit National Park.
Kangiqsujuaq’s land tells stories of an era gone by. In a new adventure offered by the Pingualuit National Park, visitors are taken to a region called Qingngua to experience one of those stories by retracing the footsteps of one of the community’s last shamans.
“Pilurtuut was a genuine angakkuq [shaman],” said Kangiqsujuaq elder Lukasi Nappaaluk in a written recounting of the shaman’s story.
“He brought back to life two people who had died. Only real angakkuit could [do that].”
Travellers get the chance to learn about Pilurtuut before setting off on a four-day guided tour of the area where the events unfolded.
The first trek was on Aug. 25. Six people, including Pingualuit park guide Noah Annahatak, took part.
According to Nappaaluk, Pilurtuut’s story comes from a daily diary kept by the leader of the weather station at Aniuvatjuaq, also known as Stupart Bay.
In the early late 1890s to early 1900s, people were encamped at Qingngua, which is at the head of the bay in Kangiqsujuaq. It was fall, and snow was slowly piling up.

Pingualuit National Park director Mary Pilurtuut lights a qulliq in her cabin near Kangiqsujuaq. She recounts the story of the last shaman, who bears the same name as her, Pilurtuut. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)
“They were still living in tents, waiting for enough snow to form for them to make igloos,” said Nappaaluk in his written recounting of the story.
A landslide befell the encampment and two children were killed. One of them was Pilurtuut’s grandchild.
The angakkuq was far off, in a place named Aivirtuuq. In the fall, the trail there is extremely rough. It took Pilurtuut three days to make it back to where his grandchild had died.
Upon arrival, he said, “They are only asleep and I will simply wake them up.”
He placed the others in close proximity and brought the two kids back to life.
“The second person brought back to life was named Kullutu,” said Nappaaluk. “He later died of old age, after having died first in that landslide.”
Pilurtuut was one of three angakkuq in the region at the time. According to the elder, the three would test each other’s abilities by impaling each other.
“One would be harpooned in the middle of his chest, right where his heart would surely be,” he said.
Once, Pilurtuut had a walrus-hunting spearhead driven into his chest. He entered his dwelling, where sealskin curtains covered the entrance of the igloo. His daughter-in-law Qattaaq was just outside.
“His face was vividly red, he went directly toward the curtain,” said Nappaaluk. “As soon as he went behind the curtain, it sounded like he was bitten hard, he emitted sounds of being in great pain.
“It sounded like his bones were being crunched and chewed up.”
Pilurtuut reappeared with only traces of blood on his shirt.
Kangiqsujuaq’s last angakkuq died in 1927 of sickness and old age. During that time, missionaries started to arrive in town and this “spelled the end of shamanism,” said Nappaaluk.
Pilurtuut is the grandfather-in-law of Pingualuit National Park director Mary Pilurtuut. She said his story is one of the reasons why she wanted to create this new package.
“When we identified Qingngua as an alternate destination, we were asking ourselves what is in Qingngua,” she said in an interview. The region is a great place for fishing and hiking, but the angakkuq’s story added more to it.
The topic of shamanism became taboo when missionaries first came to Nunavik, said Mary Pilurtuut.
“They were saying that you should not be a shaman, it is evil,” she said.
But that history needs to be kept alive, she said, and through this new adventure it can live on.

The scenery of Qilanauti in August as a storm brews in the sky. This small river has three fishing spots and is named after the excitement fishers experience when they get to the region, and they only fish in the first spot. If they were more patient, they would realize the second and third spots would be even more abundant with fish. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)
The park’s four-day trek begins at the shores of Qingngua.
After a few kilometres of hiking, the first camp waits in the region named Qilanauti. According to Noah Annahatak, the park guide, the region’s name translates to a place where fishers are anxious to start fishing.
There, visitors stay overnight in a tupiq, or traditional tent. A scenic trail awaits the next day, leading hikers to the first lodge near a vast canyon range split in a Y shape, named Qulusuttalik.

Noah Annahatak has been a guide in Kangiqsujuaq since before Pingualuit National Park even existed. Sailing the bay in August, he knew where Qingngua is, and what lay beyond. (Photo by Cedric Gallant)
“We come here a lot in winter, but we never really tried it in summer,” said Annahatak. “A lot of people don’t know about it, they pass through here and skip the canyon completely.”
After two days near the canyon, hikers must trail back to Qingngua, where a boat seals off the adventure and brings the crew back to Kangiqsujuaq.
The Aug. 25 trek, along with the intertwining stories of the land and scenic hikes, was a first for the park staff.
It is still undecided whether this package will be offered in the future for seasoned hikers to enjoy on their own, or accompanied by a guide.
nicely told and interesting piece.