Kingcome was quite an experience, I think I'll try to go back if Abe is there again next year. I wrote some things about the feast and the return trip on the way back:
Abe helped host a feast for the harvesting of some roots which are a traditional food, and I came up with my dad to see the ceremony, and since it’s a thing that hasn’t been done in a long time, the whole village is turned by the importance of such a simple thing as food. Abe made a bunch of gifts, and since it is a potlatch, he gave them out to everyone. There were dancers with masks, and the drums ring through my bones, every beat a thump from the heart of the mountains, a pounding from the earth. Others beat sticks on a log, which sends shivers down my core, and I shiver. Grouse comes out and looks at me, shaking a rattle, dancing across the floor, around the fire in the center, sending sparks and smoke up through the hole in the roof. Then Stump, and the other masks come out on the floor to dance, and the story of the forest unfolds. Children, two of them, are climbing all over me, as if I were a tree in the forest outside, and whispering in my ears and trying to pull my hair and beard. They play and make me feel like a foundation for humanity while I am humbled by the meaning and the reality outside of the forest. The land is mountains and water, bones and flesh. I am water, flowing out through the land, I am the stone, beating with the drums of the potlatch.
After, and the return trip:
I’m writing on the evening of Wednesday, September 17, 2008, around 10:00, and under way, passing
We anchored right next to an old fish pen that night and got up the next morning (this morning) at 5:45 and took off through the narrows. No trouble there, but I was expecting a bit more of a boost going through, I figured we’d get there a bit before slack and go screaming through, but we didn’t have hardly any current at all, and then it turned a little bit against us. We made it to
Back in the
I feel like I made some new friends, mostly in Kingcome, and I had children crawling over me there, which makes me wonder if I could be a dad. My dad would have a kid picking at his beard, and then they would come over and pick at mine, trying to tear little fistfuls of hair out of my chin… But the kids bestow a sense of joy that I’ve never felt before. They trust me. I guess I don’t trust myself as much as they trust me. They throw themselves into the air and I will catch them. When you have nothing, you have nothing to lose. These kids don’t worry about what they have, and then they are free. I guess I’ve been worrying a lot about the boat, and my things inside, and all sorts of things. Security, I guess. I am searching for it, instead of allowing it to be or not to be.
It feels good to be back, and to have a night of rest ahead, without worry, but I had a great time on the trip. I'm not exactly sure when I'll be back in Seattle, but probably soon.