Coastal tribes link, paddle east as canoe journey continues

About 10 canoes from Washington’s coastal tribes made a pit stop on the Makah Reservation Friday evening, spending the night on the beach at Neah Bay as part of the 2023 “Paddle to Muckleshoot” canoe journey.

It took about two dozen people to hoist each 1,000-pound canoe overhead, tote it down the beach and place it gently on the wet sand to where the tide had receded.

The number of canoes will grow to more than 100 by the end of the month, and the number of people will grow to thousands, when tribes from the coast and Salish Sea are scheduled to reach Alki Beach in West Seattle, and then gather inland to the Muckleshoot reservation near Auburn for a week of ceremony and celebration.

While Muckleshoot is the final destination for this year’s journey, rest stops along the way allow paddlers to nourish and regroup in the midst of trips that stretch hundreds of miles. Before entering or leaving the beach, canoe leaders must ask for permission from the host tribe.

Canoes from the Quinault, Queets, Quileute and Hoh tribes arrived at Neah Bay Friday. They stopped at Pillar Point on the upper Peninsula Saturday night, and then traveled to the Lower Elwha Klallam Rervation on Sunday.

For coastal tribes, the first part of the journey — paddling north in the open ocean — can be especially taxing. A canoe led by Ann Penn-Charles, a cultural leader of the Quileute tribe, left La Push at 5 a.m. Friday morning and didn’t arrive at Neah Bay for more than 12 hours, traveling about 50 miles up the coast and navigating into the Strait of Juan de Fuca. The canoe passed in between Cape Flattery and Tatoosh Island, the northwesternmost point of the contiguous United States.

“You gotta do power pulls to get through there,” Penn-Charles said.

Canoe leaders, called “skippers,” sit behind paddlers — called “pullers” — and use a large, deep paddle as a rudder to guide the canoe. Fuel-powered support vessels follow, allowing paddlers to rotate in and out of the canoe periodically throughout the day, and providing food, water, medical supplies and the occasional tow. Canoes can also capitalize on windy weather by deploying short sails.

As a skipper, Penn-Charles said, “We’ve gotta be in charge of everybody’s life. You have to understand navigating the waters. You gotta understand where the currents are — you read the wind.”

The Quileute Tribe typically launches one canoe each year, but three are making the journey this year. Penn-Charles said many people were anxious to get back on the water after the COVID pandemic canceled canoe journeys in 2020, 2021 and 2022.

The canoe journeys began in 1989 as part of Washington state’s centennial celebration. In planning for the centennial, Emmet Oliver, a Quinault Indian Nation member, made a request to the governor that the tribes be included in the planning process. He initiated and organized the “Paddle to Seattle,” which would lead to annual journeys with a different tribe hosting each year.

“It’s been really good to finally be back on the water, reconnect with the water and our ancestors,” said Quinault tribal member Daniel Malvini after helping to paddle one of the tribes canoes — “Tsopu-Kapuu,” which was carved by Quinault Indian Nation President Guy Capoeman — to shore. Participating in his third canoe journey, Malvini, 18, took the role of “pacer,” sitting at the front of the canoe and setting a paddling pace for others behind him.

The canoe’s skipper Richie Underwood guessed they had traveled 100 miles since leaving Taholah Wednesday morning. He said he was pleased to see many young people, some in their first journeys as paddlers, stepping up to the challenge of canoeing on the open ocean.

“Journeys help physical, mental, emotional and spiritual growth,” Malvini said. “It’s really positive because it brings all of our people together and reconnects with our old ways, and keeps tradition alive. That’s why it’s so important to keep doing this every year.”

Seaworthy

When not journeying hundreds of miles on ancient highways or taking test trips on Lake Quinault, the canoe “Lee-choe-ees” rests near Mark Abad’s house in Queets.

Abad, a Queets tribal elder, was at Neah Bay Friday as one of hundreds of supporters who are following paddlers to each stop, bringing supplies and setting up camp. He’s also the canoe custodian for the “Lee-choe-ees.”

The canoe’s name means “village on the hill,” a nod to the geography of Queets, located on the far northern part of the Quinault Indian Nation.

The canoe was carved more than 20 years ago from an old growth yellow cedar log. After it was cut, the log sat in the village for several years. That single log yielded two canoes.

While he didn’t carve it, Abad has taken care of the canoe since 2010, smoothing scratches, blemishes or rot that sometimes occur on long journeys.

Once the canoe struck a rock and cracked the bow. Another incident chipped a piece of the head. Repairs are conducted with the canoe’s original wood pieces. For gluing the wood, Abad has used a combination of crushed clam shells, spruce sap and beeswax.

“This is a living entity,” Abad said. “Everything is reused and put back in here.”

With a wide bow and a deep body, the canoe was tailored for the sea, and at 1,600 pounds and 36 feet, it’s larger and heavier than many others, Abad said.

And each part of the canoe’s design alludes to its traditional significance. Canoes were used for hunting whales and seals, and for trading. Pointed paddles, which are used in canoe journeys today, allowed hunters to quickly attack prey without switching tools, Abad said.

Crisp black, red and teal paint in the shape of a killer whale adorns the side of the Lee-choe-ees. Abad said old canoes were rubbed black with charcoal, for stealth, and highlighted with berry juices.

The canoe disappeared into a thick fog as it set out from Neah Bay Saturday morning.

“This is one of the premier seagoing canoes,” Abad said. “I’m really fortunate to be with it every day.”

Contact reporter Clayton Franke at 406-552-3917 or clayton.franke@thedailyworld.com.