Feasting: Carnivore-style and Haida-style

Feasting Carnivore-style, Lowe Inlet,  August 25, 2013
Ever since we learned a few years ago about the fishing bears that frequent Lowe Inlet it has been one of our favorite stops. We have safely crossed Hecate Strait and transited Grenville Channel to get to Lowe. Anchored right in front of the falls where I can sit in the cockpit and monitor bear traffic, I find myself waiting and waiting. I walk out on deck through the drizzle and search the falls and surrounding beaches with the binoculars. Nothing. Not a single bear. Patrick takes me ashore in the dinghy and I see lots and lots of salmon carcasses on the beach. They are untouched except the tops of their skulls are gone and their brains have been eaten. Salmon brains are very high in fat, and so, very desirable to carnivores  needing to fatten up before the winter. Are the bears so full of salmon already that they are high-grading, eating only the brains?

I return to Tenacious and resume the bear-watch with no sightings for the second day in a row.  Another boater swings by in his dinghy and I ask him if he has seen bears. He reports that he hasn't seen any either, and that he is on his way to pick up some photographers to take them north to photograph wolves. I'm envious -- we have never been lucky enough to spot wolves in our 13 years of sailing these waters. We wish him well and he pulls up his anchor, heading toward the north end of Banks Island in search of wolves.


Wolves in the rain

I return to bear-watch position in the cockpit, accompanied by Jake the Kitty Boy and a suspense novel. Still no bears. Another trip outside in the rain with the binoculars. Nobody at the waterfall. I turn to the wide, grassy estuary on the right and see something moving near the creek. It looks like a black dog. Then a tan-colored dog trots over and nuzzles the big black one. And I am looking at three wolves, fishing for salmon in the creek.

I call Patrick to let him know and he brings the video camera. I record as they caper and jump; the tan one clearly seems to be the black alpha male's mate. She approaches him playfully and nips at his shoulder. He whirls and snaps at her. She backs off immediately. The third wolf is silver-grey and doesn't enter in to the other wolves' games, but explores the creek looking for salmon. At some point each of the three wolves catches a fish and carries it , flapping, into the grass for a snack. I can't see them eating, but I'm guessing that they are biting the skulls and eating brains.

On the VHF radio we call Pat from s/v Nirvana,  the one who was looking for wolves, and he laughs when we tell him he missed his quarry by about an hour and half. He's grateful for the tip, though. He might bring his photographers back here if they don't find any farther north.

We are thrilled with the experience of our first wolves on the north coast.

Feasting Haida Style!  Skidegate, Haida Gwaii, August 17, 2013

Hereditary chiefs in Chilkat blankets

We are still flying on the wings of eagles and ravens after the pole raising two days ago. We have brought Tenacious back north to Queen Charlotte: we have accepted the invitation to the community feast and pole-raising celebration hosted by the Haida of Skidegate. It is held in the big community center up the hill from the village. At 3PM the doors open and line of people, already wrapped most of the way around the huge building, surges into the large gymnasium space. The floor of the basketball court is covered with long tables, hundreds of places set. Each table is decorated with the bounty of nature -- sprays of graceful cedar, smooth, subtly-colored beach pebbles and sun-bleached shells are scattered artfully down the center of each table. Every few place settings there is a home-baked cake or pie on a stand, reminding us to save room for dessert.

We are fortunate to have arrived early enough to find places at one of the tables, but we have to hustle. Many others quickly fill the bleachers. We meet the people at our table and are happy to recognize Carol, the mayor of Queen Charlotte village, whom we have bumped into several times. She is charming and has helped us with information, recommendations and general enthusiasm about her lovely community. We are also with at least two of the people who "stood the line" on Lyell Island during the 1985 logging protest that resulted in the creation of Gwaii Haanas Park. They are to be honored tonight. Everyone is friendly and interesting. The event is very well planned with a wonderful MC who is also a Haida cultural steward. She explains each facet of the event, bringing the stories and traditions alive.


The bounty of the sea--including octopus balls!

We get to know the people at our table and soon the plates of food, bowls of soup and pitchers of water and soft drinks are passed. The menu is all Haida traditional foods (except the apple pies, I assume!) and the plates are heaped with smoked salmon, halibut, crab, prawns and our new favorite, herring eggs on kelp. When the octopus balls go by I put several on my plate. Hesitating only slightly I take my first bite of an octopus ball, made of ground octopus rolled into meatballs and cooked. It's delicious and I ask for seconds. It tastes a bit like chicken...

The sea monster towers over everyone

The feast continues with speakers from the Haida nation, the Canada government and Canada Parks officials, partners in the pole raising. Haida songs and dances are performed in between. The rhythms of the huge coffin-like cedar drums and deer hoof rattles are compelling. The masks and dance regalia are colorful and so beautiful. The oral history of the Haida is told through the songs and dances that are performed. We shiver along with the sea monster dance. The monster's ugly, threatening carved cedar mask and hairy costume are made more terrifying by his violent pounding on the tall, rectangular box-like drum and his height. He must be on stilts; he towers over the crowd. Foam Woman, whose multiple breasts nourished the first people, dances her dance to the accompaniment of more throbbing drums. More food is served. The speakers follow one another, each more eloquent than the last, telling the stories of the Haida Nation, urging loyalty to the cause of protecting Haida Gwaii, its rich resources, and the Haida way of life. At one point the hereditary chiefs from the many Haida villages, all in their gorgeous regalia, perform the chief dance. We are told that never in memory have so many chiefs danced together. It is an awesome moment.

Foam Woman

The hours pass. Each hereditary chief speaks. Representatives from Parks Canada speak. Members of the Canadian government speak. Presidents of the Haida Nation, past and present speak. The dance leaders explaining their songs and dances speak. Luckily, the Haida culture has a long oral tradition and the chiefs are drilled from childhood to recite the stories of their clans and families. That kind of training produces mostly excellent speakers. Their messages are poignant and compelling. In the end, they are fighting to regain title (from Canada) to Haida Gwaii their ancestral lands. One speaker makes the argument that Canadian archaeologists have proven that the Haida lived on these islands for over 12,000 years. Whites have only been there for 200 years... Interesting argument!

The dances continue. The carvers of the Windy Bay pole, Jaalen, Tyler and Gwai, perform a dance signaling the completion of their responsibilities. It communicates the joy of completion of a beautiful new work of art and the relief of a long, hard job well done. Jaalen's wife sings a hauntingly beautiful song-prayer of thanks. She explains how Jaalen received word that his pole design had been accepted just two days before the birth of their son, who had some medical complications. He needed multiple surgeries in Vancouver during the course of the year Jaalen worked on the carving. Her voice is clear and full. She sings a capella. The darling boy is now strong and healthy, the pole is complete and beloved, and her song of gratitude for the blessings in their lives makes tears well up in my eyes.

Lydia in the midst of the women's dance

It is past midnight and time for the women's dance. Everyone is invited to join in and I do. It's good to get my blood moving again! Then the men dance (sans Pat.) At least 100 men crowd the wide aisle down the center of the gym, knees bent, arms outstretched, leaning forward, fingers splayed and fluttering with the rhythm of the drums. They twist and turn from side to side, spinning and swirling. The dancers wear everything from the original traditional woven Chilkat dance aprons and woven cedar headbands to blue jeans. The hereditary chiefs in their ermine-hung headdresses and colorful blankets join in. Given the contrast, perhaps the most memorable of the men's dancers is an RCMP officer in full "Mountie" dress uniform of scarlet jacket bristling with brass buttons, gleaming insignia and gold braid, navy pants with a wide gold stripe and Dudley Do-right hat, dancing with great verve and energy. What a sight!

Hereditary Chiefs

At around 2:00 in the morning we hear the final speech and are given gifts, the traditional payment for witnessing the business of the feast. Accepting the gifts means that we agree with what has transpired and obligates us to truthfully bear witness to it. It is another unforgettable experience in the beautiful land. What a day--and night!

Jake Takes A Swim, Queen Charlotte

A wet - and surprised - Jake

Jake the Kitty Boy has done it again. His first unplanned swim took place in our swimming pool at home last spring. In today's episode we piece together that he was probably jumping back on board and either missed his take-off or was distracted. There are claw marks in the bare wood of the rub rail... And so one very wet cat appears in the companionway and is towel-dried and soothed. We don't imagine that this experience will stop his interest in exploration. He is a slightly sadder but hopefully wiser cat...