Indigenous canoeists debut in the PNE

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Alvin Martin Jr., an eighth-generation Squamish canoe carver, hopes to find his tree one day.

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“Traditionally, when we carved canoes a long time ago, people would go into the woods to find a specific tree that they wanted to be a canoe,” Martin said.

Once you found that tree, you would chop it down and start carving it until it was light enough to start moving it to the village.

“I haven’t had a chance to do that yet,” Martin said, but he’s looking forward to the day he knows he’s found his tree when he sees it.

“The old teachings say that after you find a tree like that, it will be carved very easily, and once the canoe is in the water, it will start to propel itself forward when you start (paddling).”

Martinwhose traditional Squamish name is Xachá7lh, resides in Eslha7an (Mission Indian Reserve No. 1) and is part of a non-profit society called Canoe Cultures whose works are a featured exhibit at this year’s Pacific National Exposition.

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For as long as he can remember, Martin said, he loved working with wood. In high school, he would pull out the Batman and Canucks logos in minutes.

He learned to build canoes from two uncles, who in turn learned from his father and Martin’s grandfather. cedric billy.

Martin guided a visitor through the process of making canoes at the PNE Fairgrounds, from cutting a cedar tree in half to making a flat surface and beginning to shape the exterior or interior of a canoe, depending on the visitor’s taste. carver.

It’s harder to find trees big enough to make big dugouts these days, so cedar-slat canoes have become more common, the craftsman said.

“It’s pretty amazing to be a part of this,” he said. “At a young age I wanted to join and I asked my uncle Ian (Billy), but he told me that he was too impatient at the time.”

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Martin, now 32, was 19 at the time. He continued with his life and then, at age 26, he asked his uncle Ian again if he would teach him the art and craft of making canoes.

“He pointed to a block of wood and told me to go pick it up. I looked surprised and bewildered. ‘Right now?’

“He said, ‘Do you want to learn or not?’ At which point I ran and grabbed it and have been carving ever since.”

Mike Billy Sr.a hereditary chief of Squamish and seventh-generation carver, he is the lead carver on the current project, a 40-foot canoe being built from West Coast cedar.

Billy’s ancestral name is Lemchacha Siyam, which means canoe builder, and he learned to carve sea vessels from his father. With the trade in danger of disappearing, one of the many consequences of colonization and efforts to crush indigenous culture through residential schools, Billy worried that the trade might disappear.

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“One of my biggest concerns the whole time I’ve been building canoes is how I’m going to pass them on to the next generation,” said Billy, 58. “Now we are broadcasting it… and they make better canoes than I do.”

The society not only teaches canoe making, leaving decisions like the design aspect to young carvers, but also teaches job skills and offers lift tickets and first aid.

Alongside the young canoe artisans who make the cedar strip canoe and cedar paddles at the fair, there will be indigenous artists and their creations: weaving, leather and bead work, traditional medicines, paintings and carvings, children’s clothing, shoes and boots: two finished dugout canoes, and demonstrations of traditional practices such as drying fish on racks.

“And much, much more, so come and visit,” said Reeva Billy (Sialtinot) of Canoe Cultures.

“We build traditional and cedar strip racing canoes, also known as war canoes,” he said. “Once completed, they are used along the coast of Canada and the US, but Canoe Culture is more than just learning how to build canoes.

“It promotes indigenous ways of knowing and being that are based on a deep respect for the environment and our place in it.”

The PNE runs until September 5, every day except Monday.

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