For the past eleven years I’ve participated in a cultural canoe journey called PULLING TOGETHER. To see and learn more about these journeys just refer to the web site atwww.pullingtogether.ca. In short, these journeys put people of all ages and backgrounds together with First Nations people and as a family we travel by canoe within the protocols and traditions of the First Nations people of Canada. This year, for the first time, I’ve found an image to paint as a result of that journey.
It was Monday, July 4th, 2011. Our fleet of some 20 canoes started the day at about nine in the morning from the First Nations village of Itattsoo near Ucluelet on the west coast of Vancouver Island. It was a brilliant, clear and calm day for open ocean paddling. The fleet moved with the energy and inspiration that such an awesome environment can create. Our goal this day was Toquaht Bay, some 20 kilometers away, a relatively short day of paddling under such conditions. As we pulled the canoes towards our destination, our deadline of four in the afternoon seemed so achievable.
But the Broken Group was calling. Benson Island beckoned. A very sacred island to the First Nations people of the area, Benson Island is one of the famous Broken Group archipelago. It was decided that the fleet would paddle the one-hour distance out to Benson Island where we’d spend some time, and then we’d paddle our way back to Toquaht allowing time to spare for our four o’clock appointment with the waiting Macoah people. It was a magical and awesome experience for the fleet as we paddled in near perfect conditions toward Benson with the open Pacific Ocean to our starboard side. It was magical and awesome for the first half hour or so at least.
By the time we got close to Benson the mid-day winds blew up. As we approached the gap between Benson and Clarke Islands the sea became a bit angry. Breaking swells were quartering on our starboard stern. The skippers had to focus on each wave. Some canoes took on a bit of water and each crew needed “all hands on deck” to bring the canoes safely into the very beautiful, calm and protected bay at Benson Island.
With the fleet safely on shore, and over 200 people resting in the hot sun of the rocky beach, we assessed the situation. I climbed over the rocks and looked back at the open ocean waters we’d just negotiated. We’d not be going back any time soon. The Pacific Ocean decides when we paddle, and for the rest of this afternoon and early evening, Benson Island would be our home. We had to be rescued that day. Coast Guard, Fisheries, Parks Canada, the Navy, they all took part. Twenty canoes and over 200 people were evacuated safely from Benson Island that day. It was almost nine at night with the sun setting in the west when we finally paddled in to Toquaht. Our long day is one none of us will ever forget, particularly we’ll always remember “Benson Island and the Forbidden Waters”.
