Descendants of people who greeted European explorers oppose salmon farms

By: JEFF BARNARD - Associated Press | Saturday, December 6, 2003 6:15 PM PST ∞

YUQUOT, British Columbia -- When Ambrose Maquinna began to feel his time on earth coming to an end, he told the son who would succeed him as chief of the Mowachat/Muchalaht people that he wanted to come back as a killer whale.

Not long after Maquinna's death in 2001, a young male orca swam into Muchalat Inlet on Vancouver Island and began rubbing up against boats and nosing around the new salmon farm being built there. Biologists soon identified it as a stray young male from Washington's Puget Sound named Luna. But some in the Mowachat/Muchalaht First Nation thought otherwise.

In the traditional spiritual world of the tribe, whose ancestors traded furs to British explorer Capt. James Cook when he first anchored off Vancouver Island in 1778, the killer whale is enforcer of the law of the sea as well as part of the family crest of the Maquinna family.

So when the Mowachat/Muchalaht filed a lawsuit against the Canadian Department of Fisheries and Oceans, challenging its award of a permit allowing Grieg Seafoods BC Ltd. to build a salmon farm in Muchalat Inlet, some members of the band looked to this whale for an extra measure of strength and named it Txux'iit (pronounced Tsook-wheet) after the traditional name of their late chief.

"I like to say it means down with fish farms, but I don't know," said Mike Maquinna, who succeeded his father as heriditary chief. "There's certainly a connection, and it's a spiritual one."

Unlike the United States, court battles over Canadian salmon farms have been largely waged by Indian tribes, known as First Nations in Canada, based on their constitutional guarantees to ancient rights and titles.

"They've got the strongest legal hook," said Jennifer Lash of Living Oceans, an environmental group based in Suintula.

The Mowachat/Muchalaht lawsuit claims the government failed to properly consult them over development in their traditional waters. To press the claims, the tribe offered historical evidence that explorers and traders recognized their control.

Allison Webb, director of the sustainable aquaculture division for the Department of Fisheries and Oceans, said she could not comment on pending litigation.

For Grieg Seafoods, moving into Muchalat Inlet is a chance to expand enough to operate its own processing plant, said Tim Davies, Grieg's environmental and lease manager. The company hopes to rotate four farms through seven sites and build a processing plant in Gold River. That would mean 50 new jobs for the tiny town, helping to make up for the shutdown of a pulp mill.

Recognizing the tribe's territorial claims, Grieg was negotiating with the band, but felt compelled to seek a permit after learning a competitor was about to do the same, Davies said.

Ultimately, the band faces the choice between potential environmental impacts and jobs, Davies added.

Others have chosen the jobs. The Kitasoo First Nation on the mainland coast turned to salmon farming after native runs collapsed.

"Commercial fishing is gone. Timber is allocated. It's difficult to find opportunities," Richard Harry, director of the Aboriginal Aquaculture Association, told the Aquaculture Canada 2003 conference earlier this year in Victoria, British Columbia. "Aquaculture is a new industry and there are opportunities for First Nations."

Even the Mowachat/Muchalaht are interested in aquaculture. But they are looking at oyster farms, which pose fewer threats, said Maquinna.

For his part, the whale has been hanging around the new salmon farm, forcing Grieg to suspend work setting net pen anchors because of laws prohibiting interaction between humans and whales. The U.S. and Canadian governments hope to return the orca to Puget Sound next spring.