In the early hours of March 17, 1995, six teenage boys from Pickering, Ontario, vanished without a trace. Jay Boyle, Michael Cummins, Daniel Higgins, Jamie Lefebvre, Chad Smith, and Robbie Rumboldt, all between the ages of 16 and 18, had spent the evening at a house party before making their way to the shores of Lake Ontario. It is believed that, in the spirit of youthful adventure, they decided to take boats out onto the lake—despite the frigid temperatures and the dangers of the open water.

Sometime between 12:50 a.m. and 1:30 a.m., the boys were last seen near Frenchman’s Bay, a small harbor in Pickering. By morning, they were gone. Concerned parents and friends reported them missing, and an extensive search effort was launched. Investigators found that two boats and a three-wheeled ATV were also missing, leading authorities to conclude that the boys had attempted to cross the lake. However, no distress calls were made, and no bodies or wreckage were ever found.

Despite an exhaustive search by the Canadian Coast Guard and local authorities, only a gas canister—matching one from one of the missing boats—washed up on the shores of nearby Wilson, New York, weeks later. Beyond that, there were no signs of the boys or their vessels. The case baffled investigators, as the lake that night was reported to be rough and unfit for such an excursion. Some theorized that the boys capsized and drowned in the icy waters, while others speculated that they may have made it to land and disappeared under more mysterious circumstances.

Over the years, many theories have emerged, including possible foul play, an attempted escape from troubled home lives, or even a run-in with criminal activity on the waterfront. The lack of physical evidence has kept the case open, fueling speculation and hope among the families that answers may still come to light.

Decades later, the Lost Boys of Pickering remain one of Canada’s most haunting unsolved mysteries. What really happened on that fateful night?

The Arctic is often associated with snow, ice, and tales of Santa Claus and his elves. But what if stories of Arctic elves aren’t just Christmas folklore? From ancient Norse sagas to modern-day encounters, the Arctic has a surprising history of little people—beings described as small, elusive, and mysterious. In our Elf Sightings in the Arctic Christmas special, we explore historical accounts, scientific discoveries, and eyewitness testimonies that blur the line between legend and reality.

Our journey begins with the Viking sagas of the 13th century, recounting events from around the year 1000. According to these sagas, Leif Erikson and his crew, after being blown off course, landed in Vinland—believed by some to be present-day Baffin Island. The Norse explorers documented encounters with people they called Skraelings, describing them as short, with tangled hair and broad faces. While historians have long assumed these were the ancestors of the Inuit, a 2008 study suggested the term Skraeling might be derived from an old Norse word for pygmy. If true, the Vikings may have believed they'd found the legendary dwarves described in ancient Greek myths—an association made even more compelling by a 1569 map labeling the North Pole as the home of pygmies, just four feet tall.

The Arctic mystery deepens with the 1631 expedition of Captain Luke Foxe. While navigating the Northwest Passage, Foxe and his crew came ashore on Southampton Island. There, they discovered a strange above-ground cemetery filled with tiny coffins. The bodies inside were adult-sized but no more than four feet long, with miniature bows, arrows, and bone lances placed alongside them. Foxe, unnerved by the discovery, wrote in his journal, "God send me better adventures than these." To this day, the identity of those tiny people remains unknown.

Fast forward to 1911, when Russian explorer Captain Yvolnoff led a scientific expedition into the Arctic. According to a newspaper article published in 1930, the team discovered small human footprints in the snow. Following the tracks, they found a burrow from which a tiny man emerged. He stood roughly three and a half feet tall, with an angular head and large ears. Soon, two dozen others followed, all dressed in fine animal-skin clothing. The group communicated in an unfamiliar language and lived by catching fish with their bare hands—eating only the backs and discarding the rest.

Inuit oral tradition has long spoken of these tiny beings. The Inuit call them Inuaguliks or Inuarutligak—legendary dwarves who live in underground burrows, wear two sets of clothes for different tasks, and have the ability to shapeshift into animals like seals or hares. Inuit elders say these little people are playful tricksters, known to tease hunters and travel incredible distances in impossibly short amounts of time.

Perhaps the most recent encounter occurred in 2017, when Anthony Roche visited his girlfriend’s family cabin near Cambridge Bay, Nunavut. While napping, Roche and his girlfriend woke to the sound of footsteps on the deck. The door opened, and standing in the doorway was a tiny human figure, no taller than three feet, dressed in a ragged orange coat and caribou-skin pants. The being quickly vanished, leaving the couple bewildered. When they shared the story with their family, they were told they'd been visited by an Inuagulik.

So, are these Arctic elves simply the product of myths passed down through generations? Or are these sightings evidence of something more extraordinary? From ancient Viking records to modern-day encounters, the mystery of Arctic elves endures.

Join us for our festive Christmas special as we unwrap the mystery of Elf Sightings in the Arctic in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The Disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village is one of Canada’s most perplexing mysteries—a tale of an entire Inuit village vanishing without explanation. The story first surfaced in November 1930, when fur trapper Joe LaBelle stumbled upon what appeared to be a ghost town on the remote shores of Lake Anjikuni in the Northwest Territories.

LaBelle was familiar with the area and had visited the village before. He expected to find a bustling community of around 25 people preparing for the harsh Arctic winter. Instead, he found eerie silence. The snow-covered village lay abandoned, with food still hanging on drying racks, clothing neatly arranged inside empty tents, and no signs of a struggle. Even more unsettling were the sled dogs, found frozen to death and still tethered to their posts, as though their owners had vanished without a second thought.

As LaBelle explored further, he made a disturbing discovery. The village’s burial ground had been disturbed. Graves were found empty, with the contents mysteriously missing. Alarmed, LaBelle hurried to the nearest telegraph office and contacted the North-West Mounted Police (NWMP). Officers reportedly visited the site and confirmed his findings: an entire community gone without a trace, leaving behind no footprints, no equipment, and no signs of where they might have gone.

News of the event spread quickly after it was published in a 1931 newspaper article. The NWMP received numerous inquiries about the disappearance but soon issued an official statement denying any knowledge of the incident. This discrepancy cast a shadow of doubt over LaBelle’s claims. If the police had indeed investigated the site, why were they now denying it? And if the report was fabricated, why did LaBelle stick to his story?

Over the decades, theories about the vanished village have proliferated. One theory suggests the community fell victim to forced relocation by the Canadian government, a practice not unheard of during that time. Others speculate that the villagers succumbed to an extreme and sudden blizzard, though this fails to explain the disturbed graves. Some locals whisper about ancient Inuit legends of malevolent spirits, while more modern theorists point to the possibility of extraterrestrial involvement.

Skeptics argue the story is nothing more than a hoax. The 1931 article that popularized the tale contained inaccuracies and exaggerated details. Historians have found no official NWMP records of an investigation, and some suspect LaBelle or the journalist who published the piece fabricated or embellished the account for attention.

Still, others insist that the truth is stranger than fiction. Stories of strange lights in the sky near Lake Anjikuni have circulated for generations. Some witnesses claim to have seen glowing orbs hovering over the area, adding fuel to the theory that something more otherworldly may have been responsible.

Was the disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village a tragic case of forced relocation, an embellished tale that grew into legend, or evidence of something far beyond human comprehension? And what happened to the bodies from the disturbed graves?

Join us as we investigate the enigma of The Disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.