Native American Potlatch

For this blog post, I started to research all of the Native Tribes/Nations who live in the State of Washington, and I intended to share some pieces of their history with you. I knew I had a few photos from a Native American potlatch from a few years ago. I found those photos on my computer, and I found an article that I wrote for a boating organization about that event. It was a good article, if I do say so myself. 🙂

Let me share that article about that one event with you. A blog post about all of the Tribes/Nations in Washington will have to wait. Here’s that article …

First Nations Canoe Journey

On a perfect summer Monday afternoon in July, I found myself hanging out with friends at a boat marina right next to the fresh-lake-water side of the Locks in Seattle. (The Locks take boats from the saltwater of Puget Sound up into the fresh water lakes of Seattle.) We were hanging out doing lots of nothing on the docks at the marina. We didn’t know what we were in for! One after the other, each of us eventually heard drumming and shouting … what was that about? It sounded like it was coming from inside the Locks. We looked that way and waited for the upper Lock doors to open.

And then the doors opened and at least 25 huge wooden, painted canoes burst out through those doors, drums pounding, everyone chanting, and the paddlers paddling as fast as they could. Wow!

All in all, about 70 First Nation canoes (hand carved and some of them huge), came up from Puget Sound and in through the Locks. They needed three separate lockings to get all of them up inside and onto the freshwater lakes of Seattle.

It was thrilling to watch as each group of canoes shot out through those Lock doors. One of us finally remembered that this year the Mukleshoot Nation was hosting the largest gathering of canoes in recent history for the annual potlatch of First Nation people.

The potlatch would be held at Sand Point, a beach on Lake Washington … in through the Locks, through the Ship Canal, across Lake Union (right in front of downtown Seattle), through Portage Bay, past the wetlands of the Arboretum next to Union Bay, out into Lake Washington, and then north and around the corner to the beach of Sand Point, all fresh water lakes and canals connected to each other.

Watching the canoes come in through the Locks, I was deeply impressed. As quickly as we could, a friend of mine and I drove over to Sand Point on Lake Washington to join the crowd of people and watch the canoes arrive en masse for an amazing once-in-a-lifetime event … some canoes, actually animal-skin-covered kayaks, came by water from the Aleutian Islands.  Stop for a moment and look at a chart/map and think about the effort and time that trip required. They did not drive their boats on trailers down here and put them in the water at the last minute … they paddled the entire distance, camping on shore at night.

My friend and I arrived on the beach at Sand Point just a few minutes before the canoes did.

A lot of people on shore had tears in their eyes as the canoes first appeared around the point at Sand Point with drums pounding and paddle crews chanting loudly and proudly … beautiful canoes, beautiful people.  Mainstream, traditional media didn’t cover these events much.  I wonder why.  This event was truly amazing.

A canoe of women paddlers, the Pink Paddle Project, carried 11 cancer survivors … this was their first journey.  It was also a first for the Grande Ronde Tribes of Oregon who paddled up the Oregon and Washington coast on the Pacific Ocean, then in through the Strait of Juan de Fuca, down Puget Sound, then into Seattle through the Locks.  That crew named their boat Stankiya, Coyote.

On arriving here at Sand Point, each nation’s canoes rafted together by holding the canoe next to them. Each nation’s canoes approached the beach.  A speaker from that nation then spoke (each speaker in her/his own language) asking permission of the Mukleshoot Nation to bring their canoes to shore.  A very old man, the only person living who still spoke the Mukleshoot language fluently, welcomed each nation in turn, spoke of the honor and risk and hard work of the journey, the pride of all nations, and the joy they would share at the potlatch … and he welcomed all to Mukleshoot land and to the potlatch.

As they came ashore, the canoes, some with long cracks along the wood grain from the force of ocean waves, some canoes so large they took 30 and more people to carry them up on shore, were all carried into the shade of a building at Sand Point so they would not sit in the sun and crack further.

My friend and I talked with one man who came from the northern-most nation on western outer Vancouver Island.  For weeks he paddled southeast in the open Pacific Ocean with others in their canoes down the length of the outside of Vancouver Island, joining other canoes from other nations as they passed those areas, then in through the Strait of Juan de Fuca and then south down Puget Sound.  One canoe of his people capsized in the Strait because of commercial ship wakes … everyone in that canoe was in the water … the canoe flipped with the first wave of the wake and landed on one paddler trapping that paddler under water … then the canoe flipped again with the second wave of the wake and freed the man, tho his ankle was sprained so badly he had to be taken off the canoe.  The man we talked with made the entire journey in that very same canoe.  I saw the two 10-foot-long cracks in that 20-foot canoe from those waves … and listened to that paddler tell about being thrown from the canoe and then tell about getting back in the same canoe and continuing on knowing the canoe would carry him on whatever journey was his to make.  These days, there are escort powerboats, yet the risk and the depth of spirit of the journey remain.

Many of you will have heard that the Chief of the Mowachaht-Muchalaht First Nations of Gold River, British Columbia, died in a capsize of one of their canoes off Dungeness Spit.  That Chief, Jerry Jack, had been involved in the saga of Luna, a young killer whale who became separated from his pod and made his home at Gold River until he was killed by a boat propeller in March, a few months before this canoe journey began. After Luna died, some First Nation people in the area said they believed Luna embodied the spirit of a dead chief.  After Luna died, just four months later that same year, their chief died in this canoe journey.

Other links to information about the annual paddle journey and the potlatch are here:

http://tribaljourneys.wordpress.com/2006/07/

http://reconciliationcanada.ca/all-nations-canoe-gathering/

The photo below is of two Lummi Nation canoes waiting for their northern neighbors (from the area that we call Canada) to arrive and join them before proceeding south.  I wonder why some of us seem to be threatened by First Nation people, seem to feel a need to belittle them, and minimize their culture and spirit.  This canoe journey that joins First Nation people to each other is indescribable.  You should have seen it.

I don’t know if the internet links above still lead to a story about the Pink Paddle canoe … the one paddled by women who are cancer survivors.  One evening on their journey, they pulled into another First Nation people’s shore to stay the night (along with other canoes from other First Nations).  The local nation’s people all came out and sang a welcome song in their language for each canoe as each came ashore.  The last canoe to come ashore was the Pink Paddle canoe … but the local people did not sing the welcome song for them … they sang a love song.

What do you think? Can we learn something from these people?