Out on the water yesterday, I tried to picture the aftermath of an oil spill. There would be no humpback whales singing underwater and gracing us with their presence. No coho in the rivers or on my dinner plate. No crab pots in the water. The white barnacles along the granite coastline would be black with oil. I felt an overwhelming sense of sadness, picturing this.
Read the first blog posting here.
GBR RAVE blog #2 - Sept. 5, 2010
Yesterday I caught a coho salmon in Douglas Channel, the narrow fjord that Enbridge wants to ship crude oil supertankers through. I pulled up a crab trap full of crabs. And I watched a humpback whale as it travelled by – the big plume of spray as it exhaled, the long dark back curving over and sliding down beneath the waves, the eager sense of anticipation with each breath of the whale that maybe this time we’d get to see its tail flukes when it dives down deep.
- Photo: Caitlyn Vernon
I’m in Hartley Bay, home of the Gitga’at First Nation. Less than a hundred meters offshore, someone is fishing for halibut. He set the long-lines at 6:00 this morning, and will go check them later this afternoon to see if he’s caught anything. Someone else carries a bucket of cockles through town, gathered on a beach just a ten minute walk from the village. The manager of the fish hatchery tells me, “the ocean is our fridge.” He told that to Enbridge also, at the hearing of the Joint Review Panel in Kitimat last week. “What are we going to do,” he asked them, “if we can’t access all this food?” They didn’t have an answer.
- Photo: Caitlyn Vernon
I was fishing with Gerald Amos, President of the Coastal First Nations Great Bear Initiative and a staunch opponent of the Northern Gateway project that proposes to build a pipeline from the tar sands to Kitimat and send oil tankers through the Great Bear Rainforest. Gerald and Bruce Hill from the Headwaters Initiative are here with their boat, the Suncrest, to support the RAVE photographers. A ‘No Tankers’ flag flies high from the top of their boat. Gerald is eloquent and outspoken in his determination to protect the coast for future generations. And he knew where to find the coho.
Coastal First Nations is an alliance of ten First Nations from the Central and North Coast and Haida Gwaii, including the Haisla – Gerald’s people – and the Gitga’at. Back in March these Nations collectively issued a declaration, banning crude oil tankers from passing through their traditional territories. A recent poll showed that 80% of British Columbians support this ban.
- Photo: Caitlyn Vernon
The risk from tankers is too big and everyone who has been to this coast knows it. From where I caught the coho, I could see the tip of Gil Island where the BC Ferry Queen of the North ran aground and sank four years ago. Accidents happen, and clean-up is next to impossible. An oil spill would be devastating to the people who live here, who depend on the ocean for their food, culture, and livelihoods.
Out on the water yesterday, I tried to picture the aftermath of an oil spill. There would be no humpback whales singing underwater and gracing us with their presence. No coho in the rivers or on my dinner plate. No crab pots in the water. The white barnacles along the granite coastline would be black with oil. I
- Photo: Caitlyn Vernon
felt an overwhelming sense of sadness, picturing this. But being out on the water and talking with Gerald fuelled my resolve and determination that it doesn’t have to be this way. There
is a solution, there
is something we can do. The opposition is growing and the message is clear – to protect this rich, productive and beautiful coastline we need to legislate a federal ban on oil tankers through the Great Bear Rainforest.
Read the third blog posting here, the fourth here, and the fifth here.
