how to Travel better
Reclaiming
a Legacy
On Vancouver Island, Indigenous-led tours are about more than wildlife
Karen Gardiner
Vancouver Island
On the shores of the mosaic of islands that make up British Columbia’s Broughton Archipelago, white shell middens lie bleached in the sun. Though they appear to Indigenous tour guide Mike Willie’s guests like natural stretches of white sand beach, he explains that they reveal, rather, a long history of human habitation. “They were put there by our ancestors, discarding clam shells over thousands of years.”
For those thousands of years Indigenous people have lived on what is now called Vancouver Island, off of Canada’s western coast. Their traditional territories stretch from the shores of the mist-shrouded Bute Inlet fjord, where mountains tower over emerald water; west to windblown Tofino, today Canada’s top surfing destination; and north to Port McNeill, gateway to the Broughton Archipelago.
The 50 First Nations native to the island — who comprise the island’s three main regional and linguistic groups, the Coast Salish, Nuu-chah- nulth and Kwakwaka’wakw —have long navigated its waters and have always had a deep, respectful relationship with the wildlife sustained by the bountiful ocean, rivers, lakes and rainforests.
Today that abundant wildlife, including grizzly bears, bald eagles and humpback whales, draws visitors to the island and onto the surrounding waters on wildlife-watching boat tours.
But few can offer a better introduction to the land than the Indigenous people who have been here for all of this time.
Take a tour with an Indigenous-led company and you’ll also get a glimpse into cultures that have thrived for millennia, insights into their stewardship practices, and a deeper understanding of how the health of land, animals and humans are all connected.
Indigenous Homeland
CONNECTING TO HOMELAND
When Mike Willie leads tours from Northern Vancouver Island into the Broughton Archipelago and Great Bear Rainforest, he can point out the grizzly bears by name.
“Emily, one of the older breeding females, has a lot of offspring, and we see her teaching the young how to fish,” says Willie, a member of the Kwikwasut’inuxw Haxwa’mis First Nation. “Then we have the older boys, Roy and Andy; they’re becoming adults. It’s quite something to watch these bears from when they’re cubs right till when they’re adults.”
Bear viewing is the anchor attraction of tours with Willie’s company, Sea Wolf Adventures, but it’s just one part. One moment guests are sitting on a riverbank watching grizzlies “feasting on salmon and doing their thing,” and the next they’re heading into open water and watching dolphins surfing the waves and eagles soaring overhead. And then there are the orcas, humpbacks and sea lions. “It’s really like a safari,” Willie says.
Establishing Sea Wolf Adventures was “about wanting to reconnect to my homeland,” Willie says of the traditional territories of the Kwakwaka’wakw. “There’s other wildlife companies around, but they wouldn’t have the history that we have. Because we’ve been here for thousands of years.”
Guests, he says, are inquisitive, not only about the wildlife but also about Vancouver Island’s colonial history: the residential schools that removed Indigenous children from their communities; the Potlatch ban, which damaged social relations; and the smallpox epidemic that decimated populations.
“That’s a huge part of our story,” says Willie. “Because this is where we’re trying to come out of, that negative history, and reconcile and turn into a positive story.” Sea Wolf’s role in that movement forward is “training our youth, employing our youth … inspiring our youth to know that there’s opportunities right here in [their] territory.”
Willie’s company not only takes visitors to marvel at the sight of grizzly bears, but advocates for their protection, too. “We have to go up against a lot of old colonial policy when it comes to conservation,” he says, referring to the shooting of bears when they get into trouble.
Wild salmon enhancement is another issue. “Because of the salmon farming that was going on heavily for almost 40 years in our territory, we’ve watched our river systems get gutted and depleted of salmon.” And the issues are all connected.
“The grizzlies have been moving because there’s no salmon in the river,” says Willie. “Obviously they’re leaving their rivers where there’s no food, and they’re hungry, so they do get into trouble.”
Typically when a bear gets into garbage, he says, it’s considered dangerous, “so usually they’re slated to get put down. Myself and other chiefs from other Nations, and even the Grizzly Bear Foundation, think otherwise. We think that a bear should be given a chance. Relocation should be an option.”
“If you look at our art, at our totem poles, it’s all wildlife, mostly. A lot of our First Nations look at the wildlife as our ancestors. So we need to speak up for them.”
Mike Willie
Culture
LEARNING THE CULTURE
Before working as a guide for Homalco Wildlife & Cultural Tours, Kelsie Robinson, a member of Homalco First Nation, says that he had “very limited knowledge of his culture; the protocols, stories and being connected with the land.”
That’s because the Nation’s traditional territory, from which its people were removed in the 19th century, is a two-hour boat ride from Campbell River where most members now live. Robinson had only once visited his ancestral lands on a short visit, but upon being hired by Homalco Tours, he spent an extended length of time there in camp for preemployment training that immersed him in the land and culture by being in proximity to the wildlife and learning songs and dances.
“It sounds a bit rubbish that we had to get paid to learn our culture, but it really opened our eyes and changed a lot of our lives.
Prior to getting hired, I’d be Indigenous, yeah, but I wasn’t always so proud of it. After going through the training, it was like, chest up high, head up high.”
Kelsie Robinson
Robinson is now the tour company’s operations manager and an elected member of council for the Homalco First Nation.
JP Obbagy, Homalco Nation’s Tourism Development Officer, says that Robinson’s story is similar to a number of guides who “have really latched onto the idea of their culture and language and used it as a point of pride. Some of them have even said that it’s changed their lives; they’ve moved onto a different path that is secured by their culture and language.”
The long deep fjord of Bute Inlet is alive with grizzlies during the annual salmon run, beginning mid-August. But that wasn’t always the case. Around 30 years ago, to restore declining salmon numbers, the Nation built a hatchery, one of the few independent hatcheries in British Columbia.
More salmon led to more bears, so the Nation saw the opportunity to develop bear-viewing tourism as both a new source of income and a way to reintroduce youth to their cultural heritage. Homalco Tours is the result.
Tours depart from Campbell River, and guests travel into Homalco Nation’s traditional territory to spot bears and marine wildlife on boat trips that weave in traditional First Nations knowledge through storytelling, viewing ancient petroglyphs and activities such as cedar weaving.
Conservation fees from tour tickets support the hatchery. “It supports the wild salmon stock, it supports the traditional food source for the Nation, and it supports our grizzly bear populations,” says Obbagy.
History
KEEPING HISTORY ALIVE
On Meares Island, off Tofino on the west coast of Vancouver Island, giant moss-draped cedar, spruce and hemlock trees, some more than a thousand years old, create a lush canopy over the wooden boardwalk that guides visitors along the Big Tree Trail. That this enchanting old-growth forest still exists is partly in thanks to Moses Martin, Tla-o-qui-aht Elder and owner of Clayoquot Wild tour company.
Martin was chief during the 1984 blockades of logging roads, known as the War in the Woods, that put a stop to logging on the island and declared it the first Tribal Park in Canada, a designation that preserves ancestral lands for First Nations to protect. Martin is also a seventh-generation descendent of War Chief Nookmiis, a key player in the sinking of the American merchant ship Tonquin in 1811.
“History is very alive here,” says Clayoquot co-owner, Carla Moss.
Today, departing Tofino, Martin takes guests on organized and custom tours that visit places such as old village sites associated with the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation’s long presence in the area.
He shares his generations’ worth of knowledge about the land and its creatures while looking out for wildlife like the whales, bears, sea lions and sea otters thriving in the waters of Clayoquot Sound, designated a UNESCO Biosphere Reserve in 2000.
Moss and Martin, who are the directors of a society dedicated to the preservation of the endangered language of Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation (a dialect of Nuu-chah-nulth), have been sharing their knowledge with tourists for more than 20 years. Now they want to turn more of their attention to their own people by extending their community work, usually only done in the tourism off-season, to year-round.
“We want to run a summer program, three days a week, to be able to do for the community what we [do for] tourists. We realized we’ve been sharing all this stuff with our guests for years.”
Carla Moss
By hearing the traditional names of animals and landmarks, guests get a taste of the Tla-o-qui-aht dialect on tours. The language’s revitalization is key to Clayoquot Wild’s community efforts.
“We’re at the end of the line of Tla-o-qui-aht First Nations first speakers,” says Moss of people who speak it as a first language. “The goal is to try to get a new generation of first speakers by getting Elders together with children who are in that prime time of language acquisition.”
Tourism Today
INDIGENOUS TOURISM TODAY
“Indigenous People are currently engaged in a period of cultural reclamation and rejuvenation, and they are using tourism as a means to rediscover and proudly share their culture with the world,” says Keith Henry, president and CEO of the Indigenous Tourism Association of Canada.
According to data from ITAC, 2019 closed with 1,900 Indigenous tourism businesses in operation and 40,000 employees working in Indigenous tourism. Due to the COVID-19 pandemic’s impact on the tourism industry, in April 2021, only an estimated 1,000 Indigenous-led tourism businesses and 15,284 employees remained.
Still, there is reason for optimism. ITAC’s 2022-23 Action Plan aims for a full recovery of the Indigenous tourism sector by 2025, including the creation of 21,000 new jobs. Additionally, the Canadian government’s 2022-2023 budget features a dedicated $20 million Indigenous Tourism Fund, plus $4.8 million to support ITAC over a two-year period.
Henry stresses the importance of supporting the Indigenous tourism sector’s recovery, because otherwise, the impact is far more than economic.
“These [tours] are not only important to preserve and share Indigenous culture, but they also contribute to the economic viability of Indigenous communities, many of whom rely on the tourism industry to employ and provide sustainable income for their communities.”
KEITH HENRY
If Indigenous tourism is lost, he says, it “would have irrevocable consequences that would further segregate these communities and take a step backward toward [Canada’s ongoing process of reconciliation] with Indigenous People.”
Vancouver
Island
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HOPE FOR A BRIGHTER FUTURE
Like many Indigenous-owned businesses in the travel sector, Clayoquot Wild has also seen its share of struggles these past two years. In its case, resources for community programming was initially cut. “We received some partial funding toward that [in 2021] but less than half of what we were hoping,” says Moss. “And COVID, of course, hasn’t made anything easier for anybody.”
That’s bad news for their language revitalization work. “The bottom line is, you cannot have the full transmission of a language when it’s constantly interrupted.” Nevertheless, she is hoping for a swift resolution, especially given that “everyone’s talking about reconciliation,” she says.
“I’m really hoping [the government] will get on board and realize that this is a cornerstone of the reconciliation process: to support revitalization efforts.”
CARLA MOSS
To be sure, Moss is confident in tourism’s return. “As humans, we love adventures,” she says.
For Homalco Tours, 2021 was a growth year. In Homalco’s 20 years of operation, it has relied on the use of boats from tour-operator partners to bring guests into Orford Bay. In the 2021 season Homalco Tours launched its own vessels — two newly built 12- passenger tour boats — to bring guests in.
The new boats are landing crafts, which allow access to beaches where there’s no ramp or dock.
“It helps us to create truly immersive Indigenous experiences and wildlife viewing experiences,” says Obbagy, “when we can get to a site that has some cultural significance and get people closer — to see, feel, touch and hear.”
In the north of the island, Mike Willie is also anticipating the return of tourism.
“COVID was quite devastating … It’s just been treading water, keeping our head afloat,” he says. “But we’re ready for clients. We’re ready to tell our story.”