About a dozen people were holding cedar boughs last Saturday in a driveway on the outskirts of Metlakatla. Seated atop a nearby trailer was a long, white canoe with a red and black formline design painted on the bow.
David Nelson, whose Native name translates to Strong Voice of the Steersman, grabbed his drum and began singing. As the drumbeats echoed through the subdivision, the mixed-aged crowd circled the canoe. They cleansed and awakened the vessel by brushing the cedar along its sides.
The song hadn’t been performed in three years, but Nelson said this cloudy day seemed like the right time to revive it. That’s because the newly-blessed canoe hadn’t seen the water since the fall.
“We believe they’re like a living, breathing thing, so we treat it as such,” Nelson said about the canoe. “We say ‘hello’ to it, and when we put it away, we tell it ‘it was good to be you,’ and we thank it for doing everything. We treat it just like we would a normal, living thing.”
The ceremony, part of the canoe’s awakening, marked the start of its spring and summertime journey. The 40-foot long Nahaaygm Łagyigyedm, or Spirit of Our Ancestors, has navigated Metlakatla’s waters and traveled to neighboring islands since 2013. It’s one of three that is actively used in the community, and can seat up to 18 people.
“So the whole reason why we got this canoe was to get our people in Metlakatla out on water,” said Johon Atkinson, president of the nonprofit Liwaayda. He said the organization’s goal is to share Tsimshian culture and bring Metlakatla back to its canoeing roots.
The first canoes arrived in the village over 130 years ago when William Duncan, an Anglican missionary, moved with over 800 Tsimshian people from the original town site, in British Columbia, to Annette Island. They settled the new Metlakatla, which now is part of the only Native reservation in Alaska. At its founding, canoes were often utilized for traditional purposes, like harvesting native plants.
And while today’s canoes are often used to educate people about Tsimshian culture, they’re still important to traditional practices. Later this month, the Spirit of Our Ancestors will be used in Metlakatla to harvest seaweed from neighboring islands.
Atkinson said the canoe takes care of the people of Metlakatla, and in turn, the community takes care of the canoe.
“It’s that feeling of we’re going to be on the ocean, on the highways of our ancestors,” Atkinson said. “That feeling is so comforting. I feel complete when it is canoe season.”
Minutes after its blessing, the Spirit of Our Ancestors was towed to a boat launch in the heart of town. The group piled into the vessel one at a time while Atkinson dispersed wood paddles. Atkinson sat in the stern and acted as the navigator.
The ocean was smooth as glass. Baby salmon were swimming near the water’s surface. The canoe cruised past a boat harbor, then maneuvered around the city’s cannery. A few curious sea otters popped their heads out of the ocean to investigate the commotion. Atkinson was singing.
Within 20 minutes, the crew reached nearby One Tree Island, where they disembarked and explored. Atkinson, who was joined by his son, niece and nephew, hopes fun opportunities like these can help keep Tsimshian traditions alive for the next generation.
“Having them experience this now is something that many of us adults have not experienced at their age,” Atkinson said. “So the fact that they are here, learning and leading – there’s just no words on how amazing that is.”
Atkinson said folks from all over the country visit Metlakatla each summer to experience the village’s canoe journeys firsthand.
Hunter Morrison is a Report for America corps member for KRBD. Your donation to match our RFA grant helps keep him writing stories like this one. Please consider making a tax-deductible contribution.
