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Day Three
Wednesday September 13


Up in time to spend a few peaceful moments on the deck before Bill gets the generator going at 7:00 and the coffee is served. Breakfast is Sointula eggs poached on toast and very good pan-fried potatoes with a great fruit salad. 

We have a long paddle today and the conditions are perfect for it. Many mothershippers are especially interested in birds and keep logs of what they've seen. Our first stop is at Village Island and a tour of the abandoned Indian village. Tom Sewid is on hand to give a very interesting talk on the potlach.
 

Tom puts on his regalia in the entrance to a long house.

 Over the past year he has opened a small store on the island and has some very interesting (grandiose) plans. Tom is a real entrepreneur. We hear drumbeating in the distance. This, Tom tells us, is from a neighbouring tribe. Later we learn that THAT tribe greets visitors with a full regalia and a traditional dance - the area is becoming somewhat like south Florida and the Alligator wrestling.  Tom tells us that the most recent archeological work has dated aboriginal settlements back as far as 48,000 years. Cannibalism ended about 100 years ago while the economy was still very much based on the potlach system. We pad around the island a bit - being careful to avoid any bears, then have lunch.  We go down and visit Tom's store and museum and learn that he has developed plans to put a 'cultural center' on one of the burial islands facing Village Island. It's a nice hot sunny day and we get back in the kayaks by about 3:00 pm, paddling slowly by the burial islands to where the Columbia is anchored, taking extra kayak time to scout around the bay. There is beer to be had. It is at this time that Karen injures herself. As she tries to hop over the sill on the door to the back deck, she clonks her head on the transom and comes down VERY hard on her back. Of course, being a robust, healthy youth, she immediately bounces back up and continues on her way.  

But, going down stairs later she collapses and takes to the bed, where she stays, in LOTS of pain and a fair amount of numbness. We then motor off into a spectacular sunset and Bob and I get to navigate the Columbia through some very tricky (to us) passages, against currents and tides. That night  more crab traps are set.

Fishermen return from a night on the ocean hunting crabs

 

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