Alert Bay and Johnstone Strait

Rolling into town on the backs of North Pacific swells, the National Geographic Sea Bird nestled into the government dock in the quiet, peaceful little town of Alert Bay, BC. We strolled along the boardwalk under sunny skies, and we were greeted by some of the locals on our way to meet with Lillian Hunt, our Kwak’waka’a’wakw guide at the U’mista Cultural Center. Determined, strong-hearted, and true to their traditions could describe the amazing First Nations people we spent our morning among, as we learned of millennia of culture and ceremony disrupted by the greed and misunderstandings perpetrated by the early European settlers that were drawn to the area for the riches of furs and fish. Witnessing the treasure of the potlatch collection helped us to behold the extraordinary artistic and social wealth that evolved here.

The beauty and importance of keeping tradition alive was brilliantly sung and danced after we gathered around the fire at the bighouse. Alert Bay is the cultural center for the 14 bands of Kwa’kwala-speaking people and large potlatch gatherings for the area are held here. The young dance group T’sasala, led so heartily by Andrea Cranmer, more than lived up to their name—it means, “to be determined.” Following the dance, we shared traditional foods of salmon and bannock, topped by Donna’s homemade jams. Mmmm, lucky us!

The afternoon could not have been better! Johnstone Strait’s narrow reaches were unusually calm, our fine weather continued and soon after lunch, eagle-eyed Mike Greenfelder spotted a large group of Pacific white-sided dolphins. The leaps of these acrobatic grey and white cetaceans were exciting to watch and challenging to photograph…and then…killer whales, just past the protected area of Robson Bight. Perhaps 20 animals were scattered across the channel in two large groups. These are the resident or fish eating orca that live in matrilineal groups (like the northwest native people, by the way) made up of a dominant female and all her children, grandchildren, and possibly great-grandchildren as they have a life span very similar to ours. One large male and about six other whales from A pod rode with National Geographic Sea Bird for a while, coming up slowly and rather predictably, offering a special treat for all, and happy opportunities for our photographers.

Tonight we’ll navigate south through Seymour Narrows—leaving the Great Bear rain forest and the wild Tongass National Forest in our wake, and carrying home the wildness of these coastal Pacific Northwest places in the fullness of our hearts.