The Journey

The caneos are one day away from the destination, the Lummi
reservation near the Canadian border. There are canoes from Alaska and
Grande Ronde Oregon. It is the first year for the Oregon canoe. We are
not powwow Indians. Our dances are in the winter and are ceremonial.
We are canoe people. We are getting back to our roots. We are starting
all over. Our Tribal Councils try to take the position of Chief. But
Spirit is choosing her own. We have a young man that carved our first
canoe when he was 15 years old. He was our first captain. He looks out
for everyone. He is always the last canoe in because he makes sure
everyone is okay. Most want to be the first one to land. He is our
Chief. My sister was going to paddle in his canoe in honor of her
husband who passed away almsot three months ago from cancer. The Pink
Paddle canoe asked her to paddle with them. She is an experienced
paddler. She was in the first Paddle to Seattle and the next Paddle to
Bella Bella. I have insisted that she call me every night so I know
she is okay. Last year three white boys took shots at the canoes as
they rounded the tip of the Kitsapp Peninsula. This year a boat sped
past a Canadian canoe in the Port Angeles harbor. Their wake caused
the canoe to tip over. It may have been an accident or it may have
been a racist trying to disrupt our celebration. Last year a Makah
canoe overturned and a Canadian chief that was paddling with them
drowned. He was a big supporter of the canoe journeys. The Traditional
Chiefs from Canada are a big help. Sometimes they stand in for Tribes
who no longer have Chiefs, but have Tribal Councils. They support
everyone. I can't describe the pride and joy you feel when you see
your canoe come ashore and ask permission to land. You know they have
faced storms of all kinds, wind, rain, fog. They had to set aside
differences and become one body, one heart, one mind to make it
through. That is what Spirit is teaching us. We have gotten so far
away from what we're supposed to be. These canoe journeys are a gift
from the Creator. To help heal us. To teach us to love one another and
take care of one another. And to forgive one another. No one can hold
a grudge like a wronged Indian. One canoe has a Blackfeet friend who
speaks his language. He speaks for the canoe in Blackfeet. It is
beautiful. One canoe has a Hawaiian friend paddling with them. He is
over seven feet tall. Everyone gets dark from the sun on the water.
He got black. Their canoe tipped over. His feet are so big that when
his tennis shoes started filling with water it dragged him under. The
smallest boy in the canoe, (he is five foot six) dove into the water
and untied his shoes. They got their baptism. The Hawaiian boy is so
exotic that he always had a crowd following him whereever he went. He
was good natured about it. I was going to wait until wednesday when I
have money. But I'm going to take off tomorrow. I want to be there
when my Tribe's canoes come in. I can't explain it. You just have to
experience it. It is the same history that was being made at WK 73. On
a different healthier frequency. I'll probably coast into Lummi on
fumes. Maybe I'll run out a few miles away. But I have to be there.

Thanks to Monica.