As we ride the glassy swells of Hecate Strait, a dense fog envelopes the zodiac, rendering visual navigation impossible. Sky is indistinguishable from sea, with no horizon for reference. Blinking my eyes against the cold mist, time is suspended; we could have been travelling for an hour or a year. Despite the cold I feel exhilarated – our small craft a drumstick pounding the great drum skin that is the ocean. I am seated at the front of the boat with no one between me and the elements. I am thankful for the waterproof rain pants, jacket and boots supplied by the touring company and the woolen toque, neck gaiter and waterproof gloves I brought along. The many layers of clothing essentially turn us into sea lions, utterly inelegant and clumsy on land, but right at home on the water.
Amy and I are on a four-day/three-night zodiac tour of Gwaii Hanaas, an area covering much of Moresby Island, the southern half of Haida Gwaii, an archipelago made up of 135 islands, 130 kilometres from the British Columbia mainland. There are eight of us on the tour, along with our guide, J, who we trust to keep us safe.
35 years earlier I had visited what was then known as the Queen Charlotte Islands with Kokoro Dance and Uzume Taiko, touring schools and community halls throughout the islands with our production of Rage, a work about the Japanese Canadian internment. My clearest memory of the trip is walking a seemingly endless beach on the north end of Graham Island and feeling like I was at the edge of the world. Now I am returning with Amy specifically to experience Gwaii Hanaas in the south, a name that means “islands of beauty” in X̱aayda kíl, a southern dialect of the Haida language. Accessible only by boat or float plane, very few people will ever visit this remarkable place. I feel privileged to be here.
A mere hour and a half from YVR by plane, it feels as if we are on a different planet. Much of that difference lies in the silence, or rather the quality of the silence. Apart from the sound of the boat engine, all sounds come from the natural world: the high-pitched cry of an eagle and guttural calls of ravens, the sound of waves and wind, the exhalation of a humpback whale as it breaks the surface of the sea, the crunch of boots on pebbled beaches.
This abundant silence, free of industrialized noise, permeates everything, feeding that sense of otherworldliness. Much of the land is covered in layers of moss and loam, absorbing the sounds, just as it has absorbed the pain and sorrow of 250 years of colonization.
On our first stop on the tour, J takes us to a long-abandoned logging site, where old machinery lies scattered throughout the forest along with old bottles, rotted leather boots, and other traces of a transient, voracious industry. It’s no accident that the tour starts here. It is logging, or rather the fight against logging, that gave rise to Gwaii Hanaas in the 1980s. J shares the history of the logging protests of the 1970s and 80s, where concerns over corporate greed, over-logging, and poor forest management led to fierce but non-violent protests on South Moresby. I remember news stories from that time. Standing here now on this land, in the shadow of the trees, the stories take on more meaning.
The birth of Gwaii Hanaas
In 1985, in response to a plan to log Lyell Island, the Haida, led by their elders, set up a blockade on a logging road, bringing the authorities down upon them, along with the eyes of the world. Over a two-week period, 72 people were arrested. That same year, the Haida Nation designated the southern third of the archipelago a “Haida Heritage Site”. Logging continued amidst legal and political battles until 1987, when the governments of Canada and British Columbia signed the South Moresby Memorandum of Understanding, ending logging.
One year later, the South Moresby Agreement was signed, paving the way for the designation of the area as a National Park Reserve.
The Government of Canada and the Council of the Haida Nation signed the Gwaii Haanas Agreement in 1993. The Agreement expresses respect for Canadian and Haida interests and designations, and includes a mutual commitment to protect Gwaii Haanas. On January 16, 2010 the Gwaii Haanas Marine Agreement was signed, expanding the cooperative management partnership to include representation from Fisheries and Oceans Canada.
The full name today is Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve, National Marine Conservation Area Reserve and Haida Heritage Site, generally shortened to Gwaii Haanas, with the agreement reaching from the top of the tallest mountain to the bottom of the seabed. The uniqueness of the agreement has made Gwaii Hanaas a model for other culturally and environmentally sensitive sites around the world, and has been studied extensively.
The ultimate success of the blockade, with the Haida and their allies defending the trees, and in the process their way of life, reminds us that civil disobedience can be a powerful and radical tool in the face of entrenched governments and laws that can appear immovable.
Agreeing to disagree
One of the unique features of the Gwaii Haanas Agreement, is that the Council of the Haida Nation and the Government of Canada essentially agree to disagree on the matter who owns the land area known both as Gwaii Hanaas and South Moresby.
The Haida Nation sees the archipelago as Haida Lands, subject to the collective and individual rights of the Haida citizens, the sovereignty of the Hereditary Chiefs, and jurisdiction of the Council of the Haida Nation. The Haida Nation owns these lands and waters by virtue of heredity, subject to the laws of the Constitution of the Haida Nation, and the legislative jurisdiction of the Haida House of Assembly.
The Government of Canada views the Archipelago as Crown land, subject to certain private rights or interests, and subject to the sovereignty of her Majesty the Queen and the legislative jurisdiction of the Parliament of Canada and the Legislature of the Province of British Columbia.
At the same time, both parties agree on the objectives concerning the care, protection and enjoyment of the archipelago, agreeing to constructively and cooperatively share in the planning, operation and management of the archipelago.
This history lesson sets the tone for the rest of the tour: this is not simply a beautiful wilderness area, but a place steeped in layers of rich history, harm, and now a path to renewal.
Gwaii Hanaas from north to south
We spend two nights at the company’s floating lodge on Crescent Inlet, tucked into the north edge of Gwaii Haanas. The lodge is rustic and cozy, with amazing food and comfortable beds. In the surrounding water, a variety of jellies and other sea life float in and out on the current that shimmers with bio-luminescence at night.
The other night we settle in at a tiny, remote community called Rose Harbour at the southern tip of the archipelago. Rose Harbour is an abandoned whaling station with only a handful of residents including Susan and Goetz. The Consolidated Whaling Company operated in Rose Harbour from 1910 until 1943, slaughtering whales for their oil, their baleen, and everything else of value. When Japan entered World War Two in 1941, the whaling station lost their main market. At the time, Japanese Canadians comprised 50% of the labour force. When they, along with all other Japanese Canadians living on the west coast, were forcibly removed en masse to the interior and points east, the whaling station shut down. Today there are a few buildings there, including a unique restaurant that caters to tours like ours, kayak tours, and independent travellers. The meals, many of the ingredients sourced from their own garden, are delicious. There is also a funky guest house, complete with a wood-fired shower, and an expansive view of the bay.
Our time in Gwaii Hanaas is rich and eye-opening, both on water and on land. J has a vast range of knowledge and over the course of the tour we learn about and experience the natural elements that make up Gwaii Hanaas, from the abundant flora and fauna to the sea life and the geography. At the heart of the visit, though, is the long and at times tragic history of the Haida people, who have lived in Haida Gwaii for at least 14,000 years, arriving around the time that the first trees appeared here, as the glaciers receded. Astonishingly, it has been shown that the western red cedar, now central to Haida culture, only arrived on Haida Gwaii 5,000 years ago – 9,000 years after the first people arrived.
First contact with Europeans was made in 1774, when between 20,000 and 30,000 Haida lived on the islands. Contact brought about trade, primarily sea otter pelts in exchange for metal tools and other goods. Contact also brought about the decimation of the sea otter population, greatly impacting the Haida way of life, and introduced diseases like smallpox and measles against which the Haida had no immunity, leading to a massive mortality rate. Pressure by missionaries for the Haida to convert to Christianity added to the near extinction of the Haida and their culture.
Keeping watch
By the late 1800s, fewer than 600 Haida remained, with survivors migrating north to concentrate in Skidegate and Massett, abandoning the southern villages.
These once-abandoned villages, now sites of memory, resilience, and resurgence called Watchman sites, give us a glimpse into a way of life that is on the edge of being forgotten, along with the Haida language. Only 20 or so native speakers remain, although efforts are being made to revitalize the language.
There are five Watchmen sites, from the northern end of Gwaii Hanaas to the southern section. Historically, Haida villages had watchmen that were positioned at strategic locations throughout the community to watch for enemies approaching by land or sea. Now the term has been revived and re-imagined to encompass those who watch over the history and legacy of these villages.
The Watchmen program began in the 1980s as a volunteer initiative to protect Haida villages and other important cultural sites and is now a funded program. Since the early 1990s, the Haida Gwaii Watchmen Program hires young Haida to work and live alongside elders to protect the sites and artifacts and teach visitors about Gwaii Haanas. Co-managed by the Council of the Haida Nation and Parks Canada, the program consists of between two and four Watchmen of all genders who serve as guardians for up to four months at a time, watching over each site in Gwaii Haanas.
The Watchmen program is not simply for the benefit of visitors, it ensures that Haida cultural, historical, and natural tourism stays in the hands of the Haida people, allowing Haida people to exert control of sharing their culture and traditional ways, and serves as an immersive environment for younger Haida to learn and experience their own culture, something that is critical if that culture is to grow and thrive.
Watchmen are typically represented on Haida poles by three heads at the top to protect the land, sea, and sky.
The good weather on our trip means that we make good time in the zodiac each day and we are able to visit all five Watchman sites. From north to south they are Ḵ’uuna Llnagaay (Skedans – outside the boundaries of Gwaii Hanaas), T’aanuu Llnagaay (Tanu), Hlk’yah G̱awG̱a (Windy Bay), G̱andll K’in Gwaay.yaay (Hotspring Island), and SG̱ang Gwaay Llnagaay (Anthony Island).
The Watchmen sites are carefully managed, with visitors required to radio in ahead of time for permission to land. The sites are culturally, and environmentally sensitive and white shells delineate the paths that we must stick to. At each site a guide leads us through the village, sharing the history of the village and what makes it unique. Each site we visit paints a fuller story, illuminating the rich culture that existed pre-contact and the ultimate near-genocide of the Haida due to disease and government actions.
The Haida belief in the natural circle of life and death is embodied in the sites. Unlike memorialization practiced in western culture, with our stone monuments that are meant to last for centuries and beyond, Haida heritage sites make no attempt to preserve the physical aspects of the past. Haida house poles, mortuary poles, memorial poles, and potlatch poles were never meant to last. Just like humans and other living things, the poles are intended to return to the earth while new ones are raised to take their place. Each site reflects this belief in the natural order of things, with many of the poles fallen or in the process of falling, many of them covered in thick moss and serving as nurse logs for the cedar and spruce that are growing abundantly on the village sites that were originally bare of trees. The size of the trees that populate the sites, some one hundred or more years old, are a testament to how long ago these villages were abandoned.
The remains of longhouses give a glimpse into the structure of the village. Some are constructed with deep house pits, the roof beams long since fallen down. Old black and white photographs of the villages are passed around, filling out the picture. We are told that according to Haida custom, a house had to be started and finished in one day, as evil spirits would occupy it if it was left incomplete overnight. The engineering feat it took to construct one of these massive structures in one day with or without iron tools is inconceivable, and something I keep coming back to as we tour the various sites.
Rather than climate-controlled museums celebrating the past, the Watchmen sites are living, breathing spaces that change with the tides and the seasons, inviting interpretation, reflection, and contemplation. As we walk the shell-lined paths we are reminded that the earth is resilient, that all of us are temporary, and that everything eventually returns to the earth. Perhaps there is a freedom in coming to terms with that understanding.
At the Windy Bay Watchmen site on Lyell Island, the Watchman introduces us to the 42-foot Legacy Pole, raised in 2013 to honour the 20th anniversary of the Gwaii Haanas Agreement. More than 400 people participated in raising the pole in the traditional method.
The Legacy Pole tells the story of the historic agreement between Canada and the Haida Nation to protect Gwaii Haanas, with the eagle at the top of the pole and sculpin at the bottom representing the agreement to protect Gwaii Haanas from sea floor to mountain top. Also represented on the pole are visitors to the island, archaeologists, Haida Watchmen, Haida Ravens and Eagles, and those who participated in the Lyell Island protests. It was the first pole raised in the Gwaii Hanaas area in over 130 years.
Another Watchmen site, G̱andll K’in Gwaay.yaay (Hotspring Island), offers visitors an opportunity to relax in natural hot spring pools overlooking the ocean, much appreciated after hours exposed to the elements on the ocean.
SG̱ang Gwaay, the southernmost Watchmen site, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. As J explains, negotiations between UNESCO and the Haida in the mid 90s resulted in some of the leaning poles being propped up, with no other efforts made to preserve them. The agreement further allows for the poles to fall naturally in their own time.
Like the other sites, SG̱ang Gwaay embodies the concept of impermanence, illustrating the ongoing relationship of the Haida with land and sea stretching back since time out of mind.
Stolen legacy
Not all of the poles in Gwaii Hanaas have disappeared into the earth.
In 1884, the federal government banned potlatches, believing that Indigenous cultural practices and traditions stood in the way of assimilation. The Potlatch Law, as it was called, led to the removal of poles and other cultural items by collectors, government officials, and ethnologists under the justification of “preserving” a dying culture, dispensing them to museums and collections around the world. Many others were cut down and burned at the urging of the church.
In the 1950s, famed Haida Carver Bill Reid took part in expeditions to first Tanu, where his maternal grandparents were from, and then SG̱ang Gwaay in the south, to remove poles and ship them by barge to museums in the south. Although efforts were made to establish ownership and receive permission to remove the poles, this proved impossible and eventually the Skidegate band council gave permission to salvage some of the poles, with half going to the Provincial Museum in Victoria and half to the UBC Museum of Anthropology in Vancouver.
Today there are mixed feelings among the Haida about the removal of the poles that were intended to return to the earth and were instead preserved in museums, allowing not only the public but future generations of Haida to examine and be inspired by them. Some, like the Watchman at Windy Bay, call Bill Reid a hero, while others are more ambivalent. It is a question with no easy answers.
I have been telling people since our return that anyone who cares about the history of indigenous people in BC, in fact anyone who cares about this world we live in, would do well to visit this deeply resonant place. Travelling by zodiac or kayak among the small islands that make up the archipelago keeps one connected to the land, sea, and sky. Eagles, ravens, leaping salmon, breaching humpback whales, pods of orcas, blue sharks, sea lions, puffins, and black bears are among the creatures that outnumber humans by a large degree. Gwaii Hanaas reminds us that we are all of the earth, that we will return to it one day, regardless of who we are, whatever our station in life. Given its remote location, restricted access, and status as a protected site, Gwaii Hanaas is being cared for and protected in a way that is rare and much-needed in today’s world.
Postscript – Saving Things House
After the tour Amy and I head north to Massett, stopping at the Haida Heritage Centre at Ḵay ‘Llnagaay (Skidegate). Viewed from the ocean side, the Centre resembles the traditional Haida village that once stood in the same spot. The Centre celebrates the living culture of the Haida people through exhibits, displays, artwork, and artifacts.
One of the buildings is the Gyaa K’id Naay Carving House, an open-walled building housing monumental poles, large ocean-going canoes and other artwork in process that is too large to fit indoors.
Anchoring the Haida Heritage Centre is the Xaayda Sahlinda Naay Saving Things House Haida Gwaii Museum, with its large collection of contemporary art, archaeological artifacts, visual art, and archive of rare documents and photographs. The Museum also works with the local Haida community to repatriate culturally significant objects held in museums around the world and to reconstruct the genealogies of the Haida clan system.
One of the things that really hit home for me at the museum was a short NFB documentary titled Now Is the Time (it’s on YouTube – Google it) about Haida carver Robert Davidson. The video documents Davidson’s decision to carve and raise a pole in Massett, the first in nearly a century, when he was just 22 years old. He talks about visiting the elders and feeling an emptiness in them, and wanting to create one reason for them to celebrate in a way that they knew how. Davidson describes his father calling him to tell him that he had found a log suitable for carving and how we was terrified, of not even wanting to look at the log. As an argillite carver Davidson had no idea how to work at that scale.
When he and his brother Reg began carving the pole, some questioned why he would want to bring those “old things” back, questions, he says, that came from a place of pain. Those same people were there celebrating, though, when the pole was finally raised. He talks about his grandparents and their generation coming together and telling stories and how those stories became the recipe for the pole raising. On the day of the pole raising ceremony his grandfather showed up with a toy drum while others arrived wearing paper headpieces, improvising their own regalia with the materials at hand. As Davidson was helping raise the pole, his grandfather said to him, “Robert, the pole doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to them.” And so Davidson stepped back, realizing in that moment that the significance of the pole went far beyond what he had ever imagined.
Many more poles have been raised in the years since, and Davidson, following in the footsteps of his father, his grandfather, and his great-grandfather, famed carver Charles Edenshaw, has gone on to become a world renowned artist, but more importantly, highly respected within his community as an artist and a visionary.
Watching the film I am struck by the parallels between the pole raising in Massett and the Japanese Canadian Centennial in 1977, when a group of sansei, together with a scattering of postwar immigrants and some sympathetic nisei, instigated the first Powell Street Festival. The footage of Haida elders smiling and laughing at the pole raising in Massett as they dance the old dances bring to mind photos of the issei and nisei dancing the Tanko Bushi alongside the sansei at that first festival in Oppenheimer Park, reaching deep inside themselves for a spirit that had been suppressed for so many years, buried under a blanket of silence and shame, to dance in community, to find something joyful that touches deep roots.
Watching the film I am moved to tears, reminded that this simple word, “community,” is laden with meaning, short-form for so much of what we crave as human beings: belonging, inclusion, sharing, support, home. All of us, no matter our culture, crave being in community. To be severed from community is to lose one’s balance, to be set adrift. And when that sense of community is lost, sometimes all it takes is a well-timed spark to set it alight again.
I find inspiration, and maybe solace, in the Haida poles and their connection to the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth. Each one is carved by a small team of carvers, including apprentices, who learn from the master carver as the pole takes shape, emerging slowly from the cedar. It then takes hundreds of people working together to raise that pole, to plant it deep in the earth where it will stand until it is brought down by time and weather . . . only for another to take its place, and keep the circle going.
