Alert Bay, Johnstone Strait
The foghorn on the Sea Lion was the first sound of the morning. Steaming on a slow bell, the Captain made his way through Broughton Strait heading south towards our morning destination of Cormorant Island and the community of Alert Bay, where our hosts would be Kwakwaka’wakw First Nations. Those of us who wanted an early morning walk left the Sea Lion at government dock, near the south end of town moving north towards the U’mista Cultural Center. We walked along the main street of Alert Bay, called Y’alis by the First Nation residents; translated from Kwak’wala, this name means the ladies at the beach with the edges of the skirts slightly raised! The U’mista Cultural Center was opened in 1980; the collection represents the repatriation of regalia taken by the Canadian government from Village Island during a potlatch given by Dan Cranmer in 1921. The community never forgot the loss, and in the 1970’s petitions began between Alert Bay and Ottawa to repatriate these potlatch objects. The Canadian government stipulated a condition: the building of a museum to house the collection. In the Kwak’wala language the word for the payment of ransom for the return of items or captives taken in a raid is U’mista.
Community member Lillian Hunt escorted us into the lower area of the museum; weaving stories, childhood experiences and ethnographic information, she brought her lifelong knowledge into her explanation of the pieces. With this new knowledge freshly in our minds we were all then invited to Alert Bay’s Gukwdzi (Big House) by the T’sasala Cultural Group; we were expected to take on the roles as witnesses as is the custom. T’sasala means to be determined, as one of the newest members of this group demonstrated; Sebastian, a three-year old, was just beginning his dancing career as a Hamatsa dancer. Dressed in cedar bark watching the older boys dance around him, Sebastian often glanced over at the Lindblad guests, as curious about us as we were about him. During the next hour we were introduced to several more of the traditional dances: the chief’s peace dance, the echo of many faces, and the Bak’was (or wild man of the forest). In the last dance we all came out in a celebratory circle honoring new friends and our hosts who had so graciously shared a small part of their living culture with us. As is customary at all feasts, “guests never leave hungry,” and so we were invited to join in having traditionally cooked sockeye salmon and banoc with homemade jams! Shaking hands offering our thanks and moving back outside we carried our smiles back to the waiting Sea Lion.
Slipping slowly away from the dock our ship began making her south in Johnstone Strait. We were searching for Killer whales or Black fish as they are often called in this part of the world. About one hour south of Alert Bay the members of a pod called A 30 were spotted. While the mountains of Vancouver Island continued to hang onto a thick blanket of fog many of us remained on the bow watching two large male Killer whales lift their dorsal fins out of the water while they moved along an important Killer whale sanctuary called Robson’s Bight.
The day had been full…..memories from the morning of Killer whale masks, and totems dancing in our heads and then an opportunity to see these marine mammals in the wild; it had been a day of complimenting themes, the rich living culture of the Kwakwaka’wakw, thousands of years old and the long recognized territory of resident Killer whales, both having lived and shared their worlds since the mythic age.
The foghorn on the Sea Lion was the first sound of the morning. Steaming on a slow bell, the Captain made his way through Broughton Strait heading south towards our morning destination of Cormorant Island and the community of Alert Bay, where our hosts would be Kwakwaka’wakw First Nations. Those of us who wanted an early morning walk left the Sea Lion at government dock, near the south end of town moving north towards the U’mista Cultural Center. We walked along the main street of Alert Bay, called Y’alis by the First Nation residents; translated from Kwak’wala, this name means the ladies at the beach with the edges of the skirts slightly raised! The U’mista Cultural Center was opened in 1980; the collection represents the repatriation of regalia taken by the Canadian government from Village Island during a potlatch given by Dan Cranmer in 1921. The community never forgot the loss, and in the 1970’s petitions began between Alert Bay and Ottawa to repatriate these potlatch objects. The Canadian government stipulated a condition: the building of a museum to house the collection. In the Kwak’wala language the word for the payment of ransom for the return of items or captives taken in a raid is U’mista.
Community member Lillian Hunt escorted us into the lower area of the museum; weaving stories, childhood experiences and ethnographic information, she brought her lifelong knowledge into her explanation of the pieces. With this new knowledge freshly in our minds we were all then invited to Alert Bay’s Gukwdzi (Big House) by the T’sasala Cultural Group; we were expected to take on the roles as witnesses as is the custom. T’sasala means to be determined, as one of the newest members of this group demonstrated; Sebastian, a three-year old, was just beginning his dancing career as a Hamatsa dancer. Dressed in cedar bark watching the older boys dance around him, Sebastian often glanced over at the Lindblad guests, as curious about us as we were about him. During the next hour we were introduced to several more of the traditional dances: the chief’s peace dance, the echo of many faces, and the Bak’was (or wild man of the forest). In the last dance we all came out in a celebratory circle honoring new friends and our hosts who had so graciously shared a small part of their living culture with us. As is customary at all feasts, “guests never leave hungry,” and so we were invited to join in having traditionally cooked sockeye salmon and banoc with homemade jams! Shaking hands offering our thanks and moving back outside we carried our smiles back to the waiting Sea Lion.
Slipping slowly away from the dock our ship began making her south in Johnstone Strait. We were searching for Killer whales or Black fish as they are often called in this part of the world. About one hour south of Alert Bay the members of a pod called A 30 were spotted. While the mountains of Vancouver Island continued to hang onto a thick blanket of fog many of us remained on the bow watching two large male Killer whales lift their dorsal fins out of the water while they moved along an important Killer whale sanctuary called Robson’s Bight.
The day had been full…..memories from the morning of Killer whale masks, and totems dancing in our heads and then an opportunity to see these marine mammals in the wild; it had been a day of complimenting themes, the rich living culture of the Kwakwaka’wakw, thousands of years old and the long recognized territory of resident Killer whales, both having lived and shared their worlds since the mythic age.
