July 31 - Aug 2 July 31 - Aug 2
Our friends in Victoria, Tracey and Russ, told us to definitely check out Alert Bay a little island off Port McNeill which has the world's tallest totem pole and a fairly sizeable Indian (they call it First Nation or Aboriginal here) population. So we went. We never saw the totem pole, but we did meet Rob.
After we set up our tent in a camp called "Gator Gardens" (so named because nearby marshes apparently look like the Florida Everglades), we went into town to get pie and ice cream at Old Customs House restaurant. The waitress was great. We ordered water and she launched into a speech about how the island's water is some of the purest around, because it comes from a well that's 365 feet deep and goes under the ocean. It was fine water.
Then--history buffs take note--our waitress told us about how her grandfather, who fought for the Kaiser in Germany, came to the U.S. and served as a scout for General Custer, and was a SURVIVOR of Custer's Last Stand. Apparently he was on the other side of the river when the battle took place. She said that her family still has his meticulously kept diary, written in German, and that no one outside the family has read it. Maybe the family hasn't either since they don't speak German anymore. So if you know any Custer buffs who speak German, tell them to go to the Old Customs House to see about reading that diary.
While the waitress was giving us the lowdown on her family, we met Rob, a half Cree Indian, half Slovakian fisherman. He was sitting at another table eating a hamburger. We got talking and he said that he used to be a cabbie in Vancouver, until his brother-in-law gave him a chance to cook and clean aboard a fishing boat. Rob has been fishing ever since. He told us his take on the fish wars that are screwing up our plans to get on a ferry from Prince Rupert to Juneau--the way he sees it the fishermen aren't fighting, only the politicians are.
Anyway we had a great time talking with him and after we finished eating, we walked with him to the marina, and he took us aboard his boat--a huge, 60-foot aluminum vessel called the Kwiiahweh, (or does it end, 'wah?'), which means Lonesome Cloud in Hawaiian. He showed us the wheelhouse, the Global Positioning System, and a PC they use to read ocean charts on CD-ROM. He said they still plot their charts by hand, with a compass, but they use the GPS to doublecheck their work. Rob didn't want to rely on the technology, just in case it breaks down, which it sometimes does.
Then Rob gave us what would later be an incredible feast. He reached in a cooler and gave us half a salmon, which was frozen solid.
The next day, we got up, walked around town and visited the local museum, the U'Mista Center, which holds a collection of masks that the Canadian government confiscated in the 1920s, after they outlawed potlatches (large parties in which chiefs celebrate by giving away as much as possible). The government busted a potlatch on nearby Village Island, and arrested the Indians, but allowed the Indians to go free if they surrendered their potlatch gifts. Most did. The Canadian government then sent the items to museums in Ottawa. Some of the items were sold without government approval to a collector in New York City. It took more than 50 years for the Indians to get the items back. The museums agreed to give back the masks if the Indians built a museum, so they did. I figure the Canadian Indian Agents (that's what they were called) busting a potlatch is sort of like the FBI raiding a wedding, arresting all the guests, and holding them ransom unless they surrender up their gifts.
It was an eerie collection. Some of the masks had frighteningly real looking human hair. I think it was real. Unfortunately most of the exhibit was dedicated to explaining about how the masks were stolen, so there wasn't much about the masks themselves, or what they meant.
After that we went back to camp to cook up our salmon. Having seen several fresh fish cooked in Quetico, we had faith we'd know what to do with the fish. One problem: we didn't have a frying pan or butter, or even butter buds. We walked back into the wharf to find some butter, but instead,we ran into Rob. He told us his secret: if we were going to bake it, we should put a little mayonnaise on the top of the fish to seal in the moisture. That was good news because our other option was buying a whole pound of butter (those are the smallest sized sticks in Alert Bay). So we got some mayo, and sliced up some peppers and red onion and garlic, threw it into the cavity of the fish, put on a coat of mayonnaise, wrapped it in aluminum foil and threw it on the fire. It was, as Eric now says, to die for. We had to nap for two hours later to sleep it off.
We had invited Rob to come up for some fish, but he arrived hours after we had eaten the whole thing. So we walked into town with him, sat around and had coffee and talked so long that we actually got hungry again and ordered a banana split. Then Rob took us nightclubbing, at Alert Bay's two nightclubs. Rob is recovering from alcoholism and has been sober for 3.5 years, so he didn't drink anything, just coffee. Eric and I did the same, partly because of Rob. We had a great time and were amazed when several hours at two bars cost us only $3 between the two of us. At the first bar we heard a band from Nanaimo play top 40. Rob asked if he could sing with them, because he does Elvis and Roy Orbison songs. But they didn't know them well enough, so they didn't let him. Rob says he always asks bands if he can sing, and half the time he has to convince him that people still want to hear those old songs.
So we didn't get to hear him sing. We were hoping to meet up with him in Port Hardy the next day, as the Kwiiahweh was sailing there. He said there was a karaoke bar he always goes to there, and that if we found his boat in the harbor, he'd take us over.
We rode over to Port Hardy yesterday and looked for his boat but didn't find it. The town has 5000 people, which makes it the biggest we've seen in awhile. We did our laundry and even found an internet cafe, where we checked mail. We got more than 20 messages! Amazing. Glad we got them there and didn't wait for them to downlaod into the Newton.
Anyway, we got up early the next day and got on the Queen of the North to Prince Rupert. That's where I am now. Back in Port McNeill we heard that the ferries were running from Prince Rupert to Juneau again, but since then, everyone we've met has told us they aren't. After we get to Prince Rupert, we'll head out to the Queen Charlotte Islands, which are supposed to be fabulous. We might try to get a ride with a boat from Masset to Ketchikan, or we might get the ferry back to Prince Rupert, and then try to get a bus into the Alaskan panhandle, and pick up the Alaskan ferry from there.
For the latest on the fishing dispute, see Alaska Marine Highway System. web page
next: Queen Charlotte Islands
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