Gazette - Policing in isolated communities

COVER - REMOTE AND NORTHERN POLICING

It’s what you make of it

par Caroline Ross

Travelling for two hours by boat to attend a call at night, guided only by GPS and radar. Scaring bears from streets and schoolyards. Arriving at your detachment during a storm to discover that the furnace has exploded and left everything coated in soot.This is reality when you’re an RCMP officer stationed in one of Canada’s 268 isolated posts — defined by the Treasury Board of Canada as communities that face unique challenges related to small populations, harsh climates, and/or limited access by commercial transportation or all-weather roads.

Remote policing isn’t for everyone, but those who like it often stay well beyond the minimum service requirement of two or three years. Isolated-post work has definite challenges, but it also has unique benefits, not the least of which is a sense of personal fulfillment that is hard to find elsewhere.

You want to go where?

The RCMP is the police of jurisdiction in some 200 isolated posts across Canada. All detachments north of the 60th parallel are in isolated posts, as are several detachments in the northern and coastal regions of Canada’s 10 provinces.

Providing quality policing in a community that is hundreds of kilometres from a service hub is no easy task. In Bella Bella, B.C., and Island Lake, Manitoba — two island-based communities — the only way in or out is by air or water, and the only way to attend calls on neighbouring islands is by boat (or by ice road, during the winter in Island Lake).

Posts like these rely on RCMP Air Services for everything from transporting prisoners and attending court to replacing faulty computers and providing relief services. Of course, all travel is weatherdependent. If winds are high, waters are rough or snow is blowing, no one goes anywhere.

“Probably the biggest challenge (for me) is the infrastructure,” says Cpl Shaun Haubrick of Coral Harbour, Nunavut, a 850-person speck on the Arctic tundra. “Our garage is getting older, some of our Ski-Doos don’t work, there’s a furnace that needs to be replaced, and we always have water and sewer problems. That takes up a lot of my time (beyond being) just a policeman,” he says.

Administrative staff, stenographers, janitors and cell guards are also hard to come by, so officers often fill the roles themselves.

Nor is it easy to staff isolated posts, says C/Supt Marty Cheliak, commanding officer for the RCMP in Nunavut. “Human resources is my biggest challenge,” says Cheliak. “We have 25 detachments, all fly-in, no roads and only one (force) plane from Iqaluit. We currently have in excess of 35 vacancies (in 138 positions) and we bring in 14 to 18 members (from outside Nunavut) on relief duties each month.”

Even “southern” isolated posts face similar staffing problems, says Cpl Dion House, commander of the three-person detachment in Manning, Alberta, a five-and-a-half-hour drive north of Edmonton. There are now so many staffing vacancies in urban RCMP detachments that officers have little incentive to volunteer for isolated posts, he says.

“Career-wise, you can get any promotion you want anywhere in Canada right now, if you have the proper baggage,” says House. “People don’t want to come (to Manning) and spend $700 (a month) for rent in government housing. Essentially, that’s a mortgage payment.”

It’s also difficult to keep senior officers in remote locations, says House. He has policed in northern Alberta for 12 years but says Manning will be his last remote posting because his children are getting older. “I’ll do this one year here, then I will have to get back to a major centre to allow (my kids) the opportunity to continue with outside programs, university and college.”

Potential recruits may even be put off by misconceptions that isolated posts are more violent than the rest, says Cst Kyle Ushock. Before he was posted to Bella Bella, Ushock was told to be ready for a fight every night. “It wasn’t like that at all,” he says. “The community here is great and very supportive of us.”

This is the best place to be

So what leads RCMP officers to volunteer for isolated posts in the first place? The desire for freedom, independence and adventure ranks high on many officers’ lists, but it goes beyond that.

“These detachment members do everything from the barking dogs to homicides,” says House in Alberta. “They have a wealth of experience when they come out, and their knowledge base and levels of confidence are greater than (those of officers) sitting in the (urban) hubs. . . . (Commanders) can’t get guys to come to the North, but boy, they’re trying to steal us from the North when our time is up.”

Beyond the variety of police work, officers in isolated posts also have the opportunity to learn specialized skills such as marine navigation, wilderness survival or wildlife management.

And officers agree that a small community is a great place to raise a family. The daily commute is rarely more than two minutes, so there’s plenty of time to spend with kids. It’s even possible to combine family time with work, says Haubrick, who sometimes does proactive community walks around Coral Harbour with his sled-bound children in tow.

For some officers, a stint in an isolated post can be a wise financial decision. You’re far from the commercial temptations of the city, you live in subsidized government housing, and you receive a standard isolated post allowance to help offset the higher costs of living.

“It’s a good way to save,” says Cst Jeff Henderson in Baker Lake, Nunavut. “My wife and I paid off a student loan and a wedding in one year.”

However, the biggest reward for many officers may well be the personal relationships they de velop in the isolated communities they serve. Police and residents are often on a first-name basis, and officers regularly participate in local events like fishing derbies, sports tournaments and community pageants. Officers are also the first people residents turn to for help, even for a ride to the hospital or an extra hand digging out after a snow storm.

“You’re not just investigating crimes, you’re actually a part of the community,” says Cpl Ben Sewell in Beaver Creek, Yukon. “There’s a feeling that you’re actually making a difference in these communities because they’re small.”

You get what you give

Positive community partnerships are key to the success of isolated-post policing. Without these relationships, even something as simple as entering the school to give a drug talk may prove impossible.

Isolated-post officers truly embrace the saying, “you get what you give.” So it is in Bella Bella, where officers attend the annual restorative justice camp for high-risk youth run by a local non-profit society. And in Natuashish, Labrador, where the detachment incorporates community input into its annual performance plan and has developed a cultural orientation program that links new officers with resident Innu elders. And in Cape Dorset, Nunavut, where the detachment provides information and support to the local Alcohol Education Committee that oversees the hamlet’s liquor supply.

“We’re really just a small cog in a big wheel,” says Sgt Ren Osmond in Natuashish. It’s the combination of police–community initiatives that has the most impact, he says.

But it’s not a perfect system. Officers posted to a ommunity for two or three years can’t ensure continuity of police programming, says Mavis Windsor, director of social development in Bella Bella. And it’s especially hard on the community when several officers rotate out at once.

But officers who come willing to immerse themselves in their communities can make a big difference, says Windsor. Henderson in Nunavut agrees.

“Get out in the community, make it your home,” he says. “It’s all what you make of it.”