Yesterday, at the invitation of our Lummi neighbors, we gathered with others at the Bellingham waterfront to welcome traditional paddlers who had paddled in from the islands. Yesterday was the end of seven days of paddling for those aboard the canoes. They paddled for about three hours yesterday to arrive on the traditional lands of the Lummi people. As each canoe arrived, they came to the shore bow first and ceremonially asked for permission to land, which was granted by an elder on shore. Then the canoe would back away from the shore, spin about and come in stern first where those on shore helped to steady the boat as the paddlers got off. Then the canoes were carried by hand up to a park a couple of blocks away where they were carefully placed on the grass. At that park folks had prepared lots of food to welcome the paddlers.

When the final canoe came to the beach there was a water blessing ceremony with greetings from many nations, including from paddlers who had participated from South Africa, New Zealand, and China who greeted us all in their languages, a Lummi elder who addressed us in Lushootseed (a Central Coast Salish language of the Salesian language family), and a Lutheran clergywoman who offered a blessing.

We welcomed three traditional canoes and two Hawaiian outrigger canoes paddled by indigenous Hawaiian paddlers who, among other things, commented on the cold temperature of the air and water and its contrast from the island waters where they traditionally paddle.

Local paddlers in canoes and kayaks joined the flotilla, offering their on water welcome to the arriving canoes.

After the ceremonies at the waterfront, there was lots of food, a group of indigenous vendors, dancing and more celebrating of the journey in the park.

I was honored to help carry three of the boats, each different. The first was a strip plank cedar canoe in the traditional shape of the Coast Salish canoes that in former times had been carved from a single cedar tree. This canoe was finished with a clear layer of fiberglass on the outside that showed off the beautiful grain of the wood. Because I build strip planked canoes and kayaks, I was especially grateful to see this canoe up close and to feel its considerable heft and weight. Weight is a friend in ocean-going canoes for stability in waves and the ability to penetrate ocean currents. This was the largest canoe, carrying about 15 paddlers. It also carried an elder with a traditional eagle staff and a ceremonial medicine bundle. This was the canoe that bore the guests from South Africa and New Zealand.

The second canoe I helped to carry was built in the shape of a traditional canoe out of fiberglass and painted with traditional designs. It was smaller with 7 or 8 paddlers. This canoe had been owned by a Lummi family in the past, but now belongs to Northwest Indian College, an accredited Tribal College serving Washington, Oregon, and Idaho, located in Bellingham.

The third canoe was a umiak, a skin-on-frame canoe, built in the tradition of Yupik and Inuit builders, but in the shape of the other boats. This was a smaller canoe for 8 paddlers. It was the lightest of the three, having been blasted with sandbags, which were carried separately. It also had removable floorboards which were taken out before we carried it to its trailer. this boat was painted with an octopus on its bow.

The Hawaiian canoes were paddled a distance across the bay to another landing place. They are paddled regularly in the bay and had been provided to the Hawaiian paddlers as a courtesy as they did not bring canoes from their home waters.

As a builder of canoes and kayaks, I noticed several things. One is that the paddlers are taught to never call their canoe a “boat.” One captain told us that if anyone aboard his canoe refers to the canoe as a boat, that person will be tossed overboard not to be left behind, but rather given a dunking before being brought back into the canoe wiser and always remembering its name. Each canoe had a name in a traditional language which was learned by its paddlers. the captain sits in the stern with honored guests in front of the captain. The captain steers the canoe with long strokes of a paddle and with instructions to paddlers on each side of the boat to paddle, hold, back paddle, or brace. Traditionally an elder sits in the bow responsible for songs, prayers, and spiritual leadership. I did not learn which person on the canoe took primary responsibility for navigation.

Another thing I noticed about the canoes was that the thwarts were called braces and the seats were not structural thwarts as is the case in the canoes I build. Of course these canoes are much larger and designed for more paddlers. The strip planked canoe was large enough for two paddlers to sit side by side with each paddler pulling from their respective side of the canoe. I suspect that they occasionally switched sides to even the work of their muscles, but I did not learn this detail.

And, as a builder, I examined the techniques of construction. Like the skin on frame kayak that I built to a Greenland design, the umiak was made with lashings and no metal screws or nails. The framework was strong and there were plenty of places to hang on when carrying the canoe as long as the ones carrying understood where to grasp the canoe. The other canoes were carried by the gunwales part of the time and lifted up on our shoulders when traveling longer distances, crossing streets, and such. We were led in chants as we carried the canoes, helping us keep a rhythm to our walking and hear the voices of those who were sharing in the work.

I am so grateful for the leaders who are preserving these traditions and who are willing to teach them to newcomers like myself. I have learned new respect for indigenous builders of canoes. I have also learned a bit more about the boats I build that are imitations of indigenous design.

The event, known as a gathering of eagles and protectors of the sky, land, and water, has become a tradition each year. Now that I know about it, I hope to attend many more times and to be on shore to welcome the canoes as they arrive from their journeys.