Naw náaGalang - octopus houses of haida gwaii

By Kii’iljuus Barbara Wilson, Nicole Smith, Anne Salomon, and Skye Augustine

Ancestral Connections & Geographic Extent Temporal Extent Biophysical Manipulations Target Species Ceremony & Stewardship Current Status

Naw náaGalang* in an intertidal pool at T’aanuu Llnagaay (all photos feature the same pool and Naw náaGalang in front of the village of T’aanuu Llnagaay) - Photo by R. Commisso, courtesy of Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve

*The underline in various Haida words changes the meaning and the pronunciation of the word.

Dedication

Haawa (thank you). We dedicate this effort to the kuuniisii (ancestors), the knowledge holders, and the late Robert T. Paine, Professor Emeritus, University of Washington. We are blessed.

“You can’t manage out of ignorance. You have to know what species do, whom they eat, what role these prey species play. When you know that, you can begin to make some intelligent decisions.” - R.T. Paine, 2013

The XaaydaGa (Haida) made and managed naw náaGalang (constructed octopus houses). Physical evidence of naw náaGalang can be found in the waters around Xaayda Gwaay.yaay (Haida Gwaii), British Columbia, Canada. These particular octopus houses are in front of the village of T’aanuu (Fedje et al. 2010). While this sea garden innovation has been recorded at one site on Haida Gwaii, oral history by Haida Elder and Hereditary Chief, Niis Wes Ernest I. Wilson (1913-2009), spoke of naw náaGalang in front of the other villages of Xaayda Gwaay.yaay. In recent times, naw náaGalang may have been inadvertently destroyed in other places on Xaayda Gwaay.yaay by logged timber stored along shorelines prior to being moved south to other ports. The natural naw náagaxal (octopus dens under large rocks) may have been some distance from the village. In the winter season or during bad weather events, the distance would make it impossible to gather naw to be used as halibut bait at the xaw giiwaay (halibut house). Therefore, naw náaGalang were constructed nearby human settlements for times when traveling great distances was not possible. 

GwaaGanad, Gaathlaay, and Niis Wes talked about using the hot pool up on the periphery of the thermal meadow on Hotspring Island, south of T’aanuu.  The kuuniisii, including my late father NiisWes, would put a whole naw into the boiling water and cook it with the skin on. They would take the skin off once it was cooked.  It is said the naw tasted better when cooked this way. Following the 1949 earthquake, all water drained from this pool and remains dry today. There are many other intertidal mariculture creations still visible on Xaayda Gwaay.yaay, such as fish weirs, clam clearings, possible herring holding ponds, wind breaks in open ocean areas, and duck blinds as a few examples.

In day-to-day life, the ancestors had specific divisions of labour. As described by Florence Davidson, a Masset matriarch, who offered the following comment on the essential property of a newly married couple: “Every man’s got to have his fishing line and devilfish [octopus] stick and every woman her digging stick.” (Blackman 1985).

Based on relative sea level history for the area (Fedje and Mathewes 2005), the octopus houses likely date to within the last 2000 years. While these innovations have not been dated directly, the octopus houses at T’aanuu are presumed to be contemporaneous with recent traditional occupation of the ancestral T’aanuu Village and the current shoreline position. The K’uuna KiiGawaay (Tanu eagle) clan moved from Hlk’yah GawGa (Windy Bay) to this settlement site when they were compensated for the disappearance of the ‘Laana AwGa of the K’uuna KiiGawaay in the St’awaas Xaaydagaay’s territory (Pers comm Gitkinjuaas Charles Wesley 1918 – 2006).  According to MacDonald (1983), the move to T’aanuu occurred approximately in the mid 1700s. In 1912, the renowned Canadian artist and painter, Emily Carr, witnessed octopus (devilfish) being caught in the ponds in front of T’aanuu: 

“The devilfish were in the puddles around the rocks at low tide. When they saw people come, they threw their tentacles around the rocks and stuck their heads into the rocky creases.” Emily Carr, 1941 referencing her visit in 1912 (Carr 1941, Carter 2016).

Naw náaGalang at T’aanuu Llnagaay - Photo by Rob Commisso, courtesy of Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve

Naw náaGalang are circular dome shaped structures approximately one metre in diameter, made of stones piled approximately one metre high. The mounds are located within an intertidal pond area encompassed by a rock wall built between bedrock outcrops. Both the pond and octopus houses are located in the lower intertidal. Each house had stone doors that could be easily removed to collect an octopus from any point in the cavern within the mound (Fedje et al. 2010). Each stone could be removed individually, without the mound collapsing. By mimicking natural octopus dens occurring under large rocks, these structures attract octopuses who will then use them as a den. Like a giant tide pool, the rock wall constraining the pond prevents sea water from draining into the ocean on an outgoing tide.

Naw (Giant Pacific Octopus - Enteroctopus dofleini) are the main species targeted by this innovation although a diversity of intertidal macroinvertebrates and macroalgae would have also used this novel rock structure and surrounding large tide pool as habitat. For example, various species of sea stars, red-rock crabs, mussels, sculpins, and a diversity of marine snails including abalone would have also recruited and grown in and around the pond surrounding the naw náaGalang.

Naw are predators that prey on crab, abalone, clams, cockles, and fish. They live between 3 to 5 years and females lay between 120,000 and 400,000 eggs, which are attached to a hard surface and cared for intensively by the female until they hatch after 6 months at which point the females die.

In typical unmodified habitats, naw move from den to den in response to various changes including decreased food availability, changes in water quality, increases in predation, increased density of octopuses themselves, and decreased available habitat and den space (Mather et al. 1985). The contemporary practice of using bleach to flush out octopuses from their dens destroys the viability of their habitat.

As with any other gathering and use of the natural world, our kuuniisii taught that yahguudang (respect) for all things was and remains the most important principle governing our relationships with nature. For example, we are taught to ad kyanang kunGasda (to ask first and explain why the various beings were being asked to give their fibre, life and space for us to continue our way of living) and to say Haawa. As with all sources of food, the Haida thought process is learned from past experience and includes not taking more than one needs to feed the village over the winter. Most foods for special occasions would be planned in the same manner. Niis Wes would often say, “If one was hungry, it meant all were hungry.” We looked after each other. Hoarding or throwing away food was not part of living together respectfully. 

The kuuniisii left stories telling us what happens when people are greedy and take more than is needed. Our laws are handed down to the younger generations through these stories of past events and the consequences of ignoring them. A story gathered and recorded by Anthony Carter called “The Vanished Oolichans” speaks of what happens when people take more than they need (Carter 1977). In this story, Nang kilslas [Raven] tells the Laana AwGalang:

You have been unwise in your treatment of the Oolichan River and have allowed your people to take more than you need, so this night as the moon rises I will roll up the beautiful river and what remains of the little Oolichan and take it to the mainland. From this time on you and your people will have to go there and bargain for the little fish to make the oil because there will never be Oolichans in any river in the land of Haida Gwaii again.

Stewardship is built into the ways of living as Haida. We have specific ways of taking responsibility for our actions. For example, when fishing for GaaXagaay (young halibut), the Kuuniisii used Xaaguu t’aaxulaay (halibut hooks) made specifically to take only medium sized immature halibut; Xaagus ‘yuwanda (very large halibut), which are the breeders, and the very small halibut were not harvested. The smaller halibut were spared for the years not yet here. Similarly, size selective fishing methods were used for terminal salmon fisheries and included sgiisgil (cedar withes) and the reconstruction of giiliiGaaw (woven fences and holding pens) each season to select for specific sizes. In the morning or when the fish were returning to their home creek, the person responsible for teaching the younger people by example, would take the smaller precocious salmon out of the holding pens for meals or processing that day. They would allow the big, strong, healthy salmon to continue on their way to make their spawning redds beneath the alders deep in the forest. This would ensure the vigor of the next generation. The stakes used as the foundation for this fishing method are still evident in many of the creeks and rivers around the islands. 

With the use of any living or nonliving thing, we are remembering to speak to the naw, xaaguu and all creatures, whether fiber, food, medicines or inanimate objects as our kuuniisii did. We ask them to give themselves for our use and we give explanations about how they will be used or why they are needed. Traditionally, a ceremony was performed and the person taking the object would say haawa to the creature for giving its life and a part of its being. By remembering this teaching, we are decolonizing ourselves.

Some knowledge from our kuuniisii has been passed on to us through stories gathered by Swanton and others. Several of our Kilslaay (Hereditary Leaders) worked together to give the story of ‘Raven Travelling’ to Swanton (1905). This phrase from the story (pg. 111-112) tells us about only one energy, which flows through all things including people:   

… An old man, white as a sea gull, sat in the rear part of the house. He sent him [Raven] for a box that hung in the corner, and, as soon as he had handed it to him, he successively pulled out five boxes. And out of the innermost box he handed him two cylindrical objects, one covered with shining spots, the other black, saying “I am you. That [also] is you.” He referred to something blue and slim that was walking around on the screens whose ends point toward each other in the rear of the house. …

Gina ‘waadluxan gud ad kwaagid (interconnection) between us, our language and all parts of our world also shows up in our words and phrases. For example, our phrase ‘Sk’awGan Gaalang skaasda’ tells us specifically that when the salmonberries ripen and turn color overnight, then it is time to get ready to go to the west coast to catch TaaGun (spring salmon). The action of the berries’ turning color is like the phosphorescent trails made by the salmon as they swim at night. Earlier in the season, when the Swainson’s thrushses are calling the salmonberries into being and the blossoms start flowering, the halibut have come into our inlets, but are blue and too skinny to eat yet. When the blossoms become unripe berries, the halibut are ready to be fished. This usually happens during the last few days of May. Our phrases and words associated with salmonberry show how our kuuniisii used berries as a calendar to tell us about the timing of what is happening under the waters of our oceans (Niis Wes n.d.).

As a child, I remember our fathers leaving on their trollers at the end of May to head west through “the Narrows” to travel along the West Coast of Haida Gwaii to Kiis Gwaay (North Island). They would spend the summer fishing in a shared area where all families would fish, similar to Burnaby Narrows.

Naw náaGalang at T’aanuu Llnagaay, Daryl Fedje stands next to the canoe run - Photo by Rob Commisso, courtesy of Gwaii Haanas National Park Reserve

Our ancestors were held accountable for their actions, no matter what their status. In Swanton’s (1905) recording of the ‘Raven Travelling’ story, there is also an example of how everyone was held accountable. This is because everything is interconnected and what we do to each other, we do to everything. In the following passage an old woman (Half-rock woman) observes the Chief’s grandson, who is actually Raven in the child’s body, take the eyes from people in the towns.  Hearing what the Half-rock woman observed each evening, the Chief’s family takes responsibility to tll yahda (make things right), following what was done. In the story we know that these people are the child’s family because they all sing the same song. When somebody has done something wrong, whether intentional or not, their family is also responsible to tll yahda.

A five-row town lay there, and in the front row the chief’s daughter had just given birth to a child. In the evening they all slept. He [Raven] then skinned the child from the foot and entered [the skin]. He lay down in its place.

One evening, after they had all gone to bed and were asleep, Raven raised his head and looked about upon everything inside the house. All slept in the same position. Then by wriggling continually he loosened himself from the cradle in which he was fastened and went out. In the corner of the house lived a Half-rock being [an old woman who is rock from her  hips down], who watched him. After she had watched for a while he  came in holding something under his blanket, and, pushing aside the  fire which was always kept burning before his mother, he dug a hole  in the cleared place and emptied what he held into it. As soon as he  had kneaded it with the ashes he ate it. It gave a popping sound. He  laughed while he ate. She saw all that from the corner.

Again, when it was evening and they were asleep, he went out. After he  had been gone for a while he again brought in something under his  blanket, put it into the ashes and stirred it up with them. He poked it  out and laughed as he ate it. From the corner of the house the Half  rock-one looked on…On the next morning all the five villages talked  about it. He heard them.

The inhabitants of four of the five towns had each lost an eye. Then  the old woman reported what she had seen.  “Behold what that chief's  daughter's child does. Watch him. As soon as they sleep he stands up  out of himself.” His grandfather then gave him a marten- skin blanket,  and they put him into the cradle. At his grandfather's word someone  went out. "Come to sing a song for the chief's daughter's baby outsi-i-ide, outsi-i-ide." As they sang for him one in the line, which  extended along the entire village front, held him. By and by he let him fall, and they watched him as he went. Turning around to the  right as he went, he struck the water… 

Many of the Indigenous fishing practices described above were used until Canada’s confederation in 1867. The federal government was given authority over fisheries in 1868 and created the Department of Marine and Fisheries. Colonial policies outlawed most traditional fishing practices.

While naw náaGalang are not currently being actively built and tended on Haida Gwaii, there is great interest in revitalizing many traditional fishing and mariculture activities. Elsewhere on British Columbia’s coast, octopus houses are actively being built into ancestral clam garden rock walls as part of active Coast Salish restoration projects. 

Naw and Xaaguu are foods we continue to eat. The naw náaGalang used today are the ones created by the naw. Relearning the conservation ways the kuuniisii left for us is essential; do not harm the breeders, leave the small ones for future years, and do not take more than you need. Unfortunately, commercial fishing put enormous pressure on all sizes of XaaydaGaay naw. The hooks used for Xaaguu are fashioned after the ones the kuuniisii designed and used. However, present-day manufactured hooks are now made in all sizes and harvest all sizes of Xaaguu. 

Across the northwest coast of North America, the destructive practice of pouring bleach into naturally occurring naw náagaxal to drive naw out of their dens to be easily harvested is becoming increasingly common. This practice destroys the naw náagaxal and the area around the den and needs to be stopped as it does not uphold ancient laws. 

Our ancient stories tell about a time when the waters were approximately 150 metres lower at 12,200 BP (Fedje and Mathewes 2005). Xuya (Raven or Nang kilslas) pushed the islands away from the mainland and instructed the Bear, Marten, and land otter to get on the islands. The Xā’gi-Town-people (Raven 1) clan claimed the first tree that grew on the islands as their crest (Fedje and Mathewes 2005). On August 13, 2021, the Federal and provincial governments have signed a Framework agreement acknowledging Xaayda Title and Rights to the majority of the Xaayda homeland, while the waters remain contentious in the eyes of these same governments. According to the Federal and Provincial governments, jurisdiction of Haida Gwaii’s nearshore is held jointly by the Haida Nation, and Provincial and Federal governments depending on the species and where it lives. If a creature is anchored to the ocean floor and growing, the Provincial Government of British Columbia assumes control. Creatures moving through the column of seawater are managed by the Federal Government of Canada. We look forward to further recognition of Xaayda connection to the ocean and implementation of our traditional management practices, as well as acknowledgement that much of the seafloor surrounding Haida Gwaii was once land when sea levels were lower (Fedje and Mathewes 2005). We are on the cusp of another historic change, haawa kuuniisii for laying out the canoe trail for us. 

Although the naw are possibly smarter than us, will they figure out what has been done by humans to their world – the ocean - and can they survive with the warming and acidification of the ocean? Looking forward, we need to find ways to show the Canadian and British Columbia governments the importance of refraining from the use of fossil fuels and looking at other energy options that don’t include damming rivers.

References

Blackman, M. B. 1985. During my time: Florence Edenshaw Davidson, a Haida woman. University of Washington Press, Seattle, WA.

Carr, E. 1941. Klee Wyck. Oxford University Press, London.

Carter, A. 1977. This is Haida. Agency Press, Vancouver, British Columbia.

Carter, L. 2016. Emily Carr’s B.C. Little White Publishing, British Columbia.

Ellis, D. W., and S. Wilson. 1981. The knowledge and usage of marine invertebrates by the Skidegate Haida people of the Queen Charlotte Islands. The Queen Charlotte Islands Museum Society, Skidegate, BC.

Fedje, D. W., J. Cohen, R. Commisso, and N. Smith. 2010. Gwaii Haanas archaeology programme. Report on file with the British Columbia Archaeology Branch, Victoria, BC.

Fedje, D. W., and R. M. Mathewes (eds.) 2005. Haida Gwaii: human history and environment from the time of Loon to the time of the Iron People. University of British Columbia Press, Vancouver, BC.

Lantz, T.C., and N.J. Turner. 2003. Traditional phenological knowledge of aboriginal peoples in British Columbia. Journal of Ethnobiology 23(2)

MacDonald, G. F. 1983. Ninstints, Haida World Heritage Site. UBC Press, Vancouver.

Mather, J. A., S. Resler, and J. Cosgrove. 1985. Activity and movement patterns of Octopus dofleini. Marine and Freshwater Behaviour and Physiology 11:301-314.

Skidegate Haida Immersion Program. 2016. HlGaagilda Xaayda Kil K’aalang: SHIP Xaayda Kil glossary. Skidegate Haida Immersion Program Skidegate, BC.

Stewart, H. 2008. Indian fishing: early methods on the Northwest Coast. D & M Publishers, Vancouver, BC.

Swanton, J. R. 1905. Haida texts and myths Skidegate dialect. Washington Government Printing Offices, Washington.