| Report from Nootka Sound, November
15, 2005
By Mike Parfit
Copyright by Michael Parfit and Suzanne Chisholm
Report from Nootka Sound, November 15, 2005
This was the weekend of the Maquinna Potlatch at Tsaxana, near
Gold River. It was the potlatch to honour the passing of Ambrose
Maquinna, former chief of the Mowachaht/Muchalaht First Nation,
who died in July, 2001. We attended the potlatch from about 10 a.m.
on Saturday morning until 7 a.m. on Sunday morning when the batteries
on our cameras and in our sleepy minds ran out. The potlatch continued
until about 11 a.m. Sunday.
It is often reported that the reason the First Nation opposed the
capture and move for Luna last year was that the band members believe
that Luna, whom they call Tsuxiit, carries the spirit of Ambrose
Maquinna. As we understand this, the belief is more complicated
and intricate than what has been described simply as reincarnation,
and most people who have followed this story know that the First
Nation's opposition to Luna's capture and relocation is also based
on very fundamental cultural ties that the First Nation has with
all orcas.
Nevertheless, many people outside Gold River expected that after
the Mowachaht/Muchalaht people said a formal farewell to their chief,
their opposition to the capture and move plan for Luna might end.
In the past we have seen no evidence of that, and we saw no evidence
of it at the potlatch either.
The ceremony served as a powerful reminder to us that even this
very small First Nation has a rich, complex, and subtle culture.
In the internal structure of the potlatch there were many formal,
detailed protocols that were followed, and in the individual events
of the potlatch - the many dances and songs - there was variety
and complexity that we found extraordinary.
In some other indigenous cultures in other parts of the world the
outward manifestations of the culture such as singing and dancing
are maintained mainly as something to show visitors as reminders
of past glory. This is not the case here. It is an indication of
the power this culture retains that the songs and dances here are
in no way designed for the entertainment of the outside public;
they are in no way a show. They communicate culture both inside
the individual First Nation and between it and other First Nations.
To us outsiders what was being communicated sometimes seemed obscure,
but that is how intricate cultures always look to those who have
not grown up in their embrace.
In addition to the dances and song, elaborate speeches in which
elders and chiefs spoke at length about the ways their families
were related to the Maquinnas offered us a glimpse of how important
these extended blood relationships were and are to many First Nations.
Because of the depth of their history here, the Mowachaht/Muchalaht
people know far better than the rest of us - to paraphrase Mike
Maquinna - who they are and where they come from, and they go to
great lengths to hang onto that knowledge by passing the most subtle
links of family, described in the context of the grander subtlety
of their linked past, across the generations.
It seems to us that the First Nation believes strongly that Luna
is connected in that web of relationships that the Mowachaht/Muchalaht
and their First Nation neighbours have taken such efforts to recognize
and sustain. That must be an important part of why they relate to
him as they have. The indications are that the potlatch has not
changed that relationship. If anything it made the power of the
relationship more vivid: many of the shawls of the women and the
vests worn by the men were decorated with magnificent images of
orcas.
As people both in this area and beyond it consider Luna's future,
we think it's pretty important to recognize that the relationship
that the Mowachaht/Muchalaht people feel toward Luna is stronger
than just something political. We - Suzanne and I - come from other
cultures, and it is neither accurate nor appropriate for us to say
that we can understand this First Nation's world in all its complexity,
but we respect it as a part of a culture that, as the potlatch showed,
remains strong in the face of much stress.
On Saturday afternoon, while Suzanne stayed at the potlatch, I
went out on the water for a while. Luna appears to have moved away
from the Gold River area to make his base back in his more familiar
territory quite a distance from the docks. We've been told that
he has spent time with the large landing craft that is one of his
favourite vessels, but only when that ship came through the territory.
And we have had heard reports that he spent some time near fish
farms in the neighbourhood. But when I went out on Saturday, people
hadn't seen him for a couple of days. I stopped in at several places
along the Sound and asked about him, but there were no reports.
But any anxiety was lifted as I watched from near the edge of the
familiar territory. There Luna was, foraging out in the middle.
It was good to see him, independent guy that he is, getting along
as always. I watched for quite a while, and after darkness fell,
he took a bit of a cruise with a Coast Guard ship that came in from
the rough seas outside to anchor for the night in one of the bays
near Luna's territory.
I talked briefly by radio to someone on the ship, then left the
area well after dark, driving along with prickles of rain on my
face, cold but happy, thinking fancifully that on this night of
a celebration that included him among those honoured, Tsuxiit had
found the chance to be a host himself to storm-tossed travelers
from another world. It seemed oddly fitting with the many ironies
in this story that the people whom Luna hosted on this evening of
the potlatch were, as members of the Canadian Coast Guard, employees
of the Department of Fisheries and Oceans.
If there was a symbolic moment on the water in this day of symbolism
on land, we would like to think that it was this: Maybe Luna can
teach us how, in spite of the huge differences in perspective between
peoples, there may still be common ground when it comes to figuring
out how to live both with one another and with the complex and wonderful
other lives with whom we share our world.
I went out on the water again on Monday with Keith Wood, of Anon.org,
to try to fix the Luna Live research hydrophone. Keith was able
to find the problem and repair it, which was great. It was also
great to see Luna foraging and playing nearby. We saw him tail slapping
several times, once again out in the middle of the place to which
he has always returned. He also romped around the turbulent wake
of a tug that came rumbling through the bay. Then, when Keith got
back to Gold River and listened to the Internet link to the hydrophone,
he immediately heard six short Luna calls.
From our human perspective, it looks to us as if Luna, like the
Mowachaht/Muchalaht people, dances and sings to hold on to who he
is. But what those songs and dances fully mean is beyond us.
Michael Parfit
Suzanne Chisholm
Gold River
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