By Hélèna Katz -- Every year, travellers pump more than $325-million into the economies of the three territories, creating jobs and business. UHB spoke to a few of the experts in the area to determine what a town should be doing to get a piece of the action.

"Tourism is the only sustainable resource we have, no matter what the [economic] conditions,” says Judith Venaas, an Inuvik-based tourism development officer with the Industry, Tourism and Investment department in the Northwest Territories. “There will always be tourists.”

Communities interested in becoming a tourist destination should look at their assets and what they can offer visitors, says Robert Clark, manager of product and research development for the Yukon’s Tourism and Culture department. Those assets can include access to wilderness, attractions, natural features or parks. “What is within a reasonable distance of the community that you can package?” he asks. “For example if you stay here, within an hour you can be hang-gliding or taking a glacier tour.”

Since the North is a long-haul destination, offering a range of tourism experiences is particularly important, Clark says. The trick, Venaas notes, is to offer something unique. “You need to find something that’s different from the rest of the world.” It’s helpful to remember that what’s normal to Northerners, such as ice roads, may be a novelty to visitors.

Capitalize on your history

From the swinging doors at the Sourdough Saloon to the architecture and wooden sidewalks, Dawson City oozes gold rush charm. It’s here that the Trail of ’98 Klondike gold rush ended for thousands of stampeders. More than 100 years later, 60,000 visitors a year come to Dawson City to soak up the history.

Dawsonites realized they were sitting on a tourism gold mine when visitors began arriving in riverboats in 1952. “Being a friendly Northern town, a group of people would dress in 1898 costumes and greet them at the river when they got off,” says Bill Holmes, marketing and events manager for the Klondike Visitors Association. “There were people coming to Dawson City before anyone in Dawson City realized there was anything to see here.”

Volunteers created the Klondike Tourist Bureau (now the Klondike Visitors Association) and expanded their offerings to include tours of Dawson City and the goldfields, “Klondike Nights” (where visitors were entertained and could bet phoney money at a casino), a placer claim where tourists could pan for gold, and the Dawson City Music Festival.

Efforts also included developing Diamond Tooth Gertie’s casino, stabilizing older buildings, and helping to restore the homes of writers Jack London and Pierre Berton. Bylaws were implemented to stipulate how buildings can be renovated, in an effort to retain the community’s gold-rush-era look. Visitors grew from 20,000 a year in the 1970s to the 60,000 the town enjoys today.

Maintaining authenticity while sharing the community with visitors is part of the community’s charm. “When you come to Dawson, what you see is what you get,” Holmes explains. “You have buildings with a nicely painted façade, you’ll see a few buildings to show you what it would be like if nobody lived here. Then you have an empty lot and then a family home painted pink.”

Capitalizing on the community’s history creates more than jobs, Holmes says. “It gives you a sense of pride and ownership, and you become an ambassador for the community.”

Promote your natural assets

The Cessna takes off from the float-plane base in Fort Simpson and glides over mountain ranges, plateaus and through canyons on a flightseeing tour of Nahanni National Park Reserve. At Virginia Falls, which is about twice the height of Niagara Falls, a rainbow slides down the frothing waters. North Nahanni Naturalist Lodge appears suddenly as the float plane swoops in for a landing after the flightseeing tour.

Since Nahanni National Park Reserve was created in 1976, visitors have increased from about 600 to 1,000 per year as awareness of the park has grown. “People tell their friends (about Nahanni),” says park superintendent Chuck Blyth, “and their friends want to make it their once-in-a-lifetime trip, too.” Some 60 per cent stay up to two weeks, while the rest opt for day trips – usually flightseeing tours – into the park from the gateway community of Fort Simpson. Improved facilities, such as a boardwalk around Virginia Falls, have increased the park’s access for day use.

Nahanni’s presence has spawned such local businesses as lodges adjacent to the park, companies offering flightseeing tours and rafting and canoe trips. Blyth estimates that visitors stay an extra two or three days in Fort Simpson beyond their visit to the park, spending money in the village’s hotels, bed and breakfasts, shops and restaurants. Another economic generator is the 15 to 20 jobs at the park.

But Blyth sees room to grow. “We really want to try to increase our visitors to Nahanni,” he says. “We also want to see if we can diversify packages to include hiking or something else so that it’s not just all happening on the river.” He thinks there’s also a market in the village for souvenirs. “They could be selling photos, coffee cups and t-shirts.”

Why not launch a festival?

When the bottom fell out of the Beaufort Delta’s oil and gas industry in the 1980s, residents began turning to tourism to develop the economy. Inuvik’s Great Northern Arts Festival began in 1989 with 35 artists from the Northwest Territories. Now up to 80 visual artists and 40 performers from across the North converge on the Arctic community for 10 days each July. “It’s the largest tourism event in the Beaufort Delta,” says Tony Devlin, the festival’s executive director. “We are the big boys on the block.” A festival that initially drew 600 people to Inuvik now attracts as many as 4,000.

The event includes demonstrations, performances, a fashion show, the screening of Northern films, storytelling and a traditional dance. But a highlight is the more than 60 workshops that allow visitors to try their hand at traditional arts and contemporary crafts such as willow-basket making, throat singing, painting and beading.

The festival tries to encourage visitors to stay in town for several days by offering a variety of workshops and performances. The number of workshops was increased from 12 in 2007 to 68 in 2008 – and participants can register online. “We want to give them plenty of options,” Devlin says. “We feel that’s really a bit of a selling point. People can sit there and plan out three or four days in Inuvik. Do a two-to-eight-hour workshop during the day and maybe Tuesday night there’s this performance they want to see.”

The event retains its mandate of providing workshops and professional development for artists while keeping the public engaged. “This is a public event, so it’s important that the public get that opportunity to become their own artist and see artists at work.” Offering an “all-encompassing experience” also helps visitors get value from travelling to Inuvik for the festival, he says.

Devlin says it’s important to focus on what sets a community apart. “Market the uniqueness of what your community can offer. We are sharing the culture from all three territories and giving the visitor an experience they couldn’t get in the south.”

The efforts are paying off. Rand McNally recently rated the festival one of the top 25 in North America. This summer a Japanese tour company plans to bring a busload of tourists up the Dempster Highway for the festival. “It’s nice to be able to bring some of that traffic here and show them there is something north of Yellowknife,” Devlin says.

Entertain a captive audience

When passengers disembark from the dozen cruise ships that stop in Pond Inlet, Nunavut between July and September every year, the manager of the Nattinnak Visitor Centre greets them on the beach. Locally trained guides hired by the cruise-ship company take guests on a tour of the community of 1,300 people, with a stop at the local Co-op.

Visitors are also treated to a cultural performance at the visitor centre that includes traditional stories, throat singing, drumming and Inuit games. “Sometimes there are volunteers who want to try the games but often there are lots of shy people,” says performer Karen Nutarak, chuckling. The performance culminates with participants singing the alphabet in Inuktitut and being served tea and bannock. Then the gift shop selling locally made crafts opens.

“We are trying to give them knowledge about our culture and how seal is important to us,” Nutarak says. Mixing with the locals helps build bridges wi th pas senger s . “They usually start appreciating our culture more.” Some return to the community. One woman flew to Pond Inlet two years after first stopping by during a cruise.

The performances have been offered to cruise ship passengers for more than 10 years. Nutarak thinks other communities could organize activities as well. “You could do all sorts of stuff when they come, but things should be planned with each community so they do something different, so a person is not watching the same thing in each place.”

Create a sporting event

The Yukon gets its share of tourists when it’s warm, but visitors tend to scatter when the weather turns cool. The Yukon Tourism Industry Association launched the annual Klondike Road Relay in 1982 to draw visitors to the territory during the shoulder season. Organizers have used mailings to running groups, a website, publicity in running magazines, and word-of-mouth to generate buzz.

The event has grown from 25 teams of 10 members each the first year to more than 130 teams in 2008.

Teams run for 175 kilometres along the Klondike Highway from Skagway, Alaska to Whitehorse. Participants hail from Alaska, Yukon, British Columbia and as far away as Ontario. Convincing people to run through the night despite the weather and road conditions was a challenge the race initially faced, says Megan Freese, program coordinator with Sport Yukon, the current race organizer.

“When you are running in this race you can go from beautiful sunshine, to rain, to fog, to below zero temperatures,” Freese says. Then there are potholes, traffic (since the highway isn’t closed), bears and other wildlife. But these may be some of the very things that set this race apart. “It’s probably a hard sell for some but a draw for others.”

Runners inject $300,000 into the Yukon economy annually. “These participants bring in their families and their support crews,” Freese says. “They have people in motor homes cheering them on and people at the finish line waiting for them.” Participants and their entourage generally stay on in the territory. “Quite a few Alaskans spend a few days after (the race) in Whitehorse, whether it’s shopping or doing tours.”

Get the community onboard

Venaas says communities also need to ensure the infrastructure is in place to meet visitors’ needs. “A lot of people want to go to Herschel Island but you need a float plane to get there and they didn’t have any last year,” she explains. “If people come into a community how do they get there? Do they drive in? Fly in? Where do they stay? Is there a place for them to buy things and eat? What can they do when they’re there?” But she knows building the infrastructure is a chicken-and-egg proposition. “People want to know that people will come before they spend money on infrastructure,” she says.

Success also takes time to build. It can take three years for a product or a destination to gain recognition among travellers, Clark says. “You don’t say tomorrow, ‘Let’s be a tourism community.’ In order to give it a fair chance, you need to make a commitment and give it time and energy.” But the rewards of being involved in tourism are more than just financial. “It’s gratifying for people who live in the Yukon,” Clark says. “We have a strong sense of place. We are proud of the Yukon and we want (visitors) to experience it.”