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Parks and Reconciliation: How First Nations in B.C. are taking back control of stewardship and access in their traditional territories

August 26, 2023

CBC News: Walking the Big Tree Trail in Meares Island Tribal Park, Saya Masso spots a mass of salamander eggs sitting in the sun. 

The Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation’s lands and resources manager stops to scoop them with his bare hands into a moist, shady spot beneath the trail’s cedar boardwalk. He sighs. “Some of these look like they’ve suffered,” Masso said.

Masso is out doing routine maintenance on the trail, which was first built in 1984 when the Tla-o-qui-aht declared Meares Island — located off Tofino, B.C., on Vancouver Island’s west coast — as a tribal park during old-growth logging protests known as the War of the Woods in the 1980s and ‘90s

Noting the desire for conservation on the island, the B.C. Court of Appeal granted an injunction against logging until land claims by the Tla-o-qui-aht and Ahousaht First Nations were settled. The Tla-o-qui-aht’s claim to the majority of the island remains unsettled, but guardians employed by the nation continue to do restoration work there. 

“Our vision is to protect our old-growth forests for the survival of our culture. Our vision clearly maps out which rivers need to be restored and salmon recovery programs in place,” said Masso. 

A man wears a tribal parks guardian shirt
Saya Masso, natural resources manager for the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)

Vancouver Island’s west coast is home to some of British Columbia’s most iconic scenery, including moss-laden old-growth forests and rocky shores on narrow inlets that harbour pods of killer whales. It’s this abundance of land, water, and wildlife, much of it preserved in federal and provincial parkland, that’s helped to build a $240-million tourism economy in Tofino, a town of just 2,500 people.

Despite thousands of years of caring for these lands and waters, First Nations in the region have historically been shut out of decisions about the management of these parks and the booming tourism economy they bring. 

But the tide, it seems, is turning.

Land reclamation

Indigenous nations across B.C. are increasingly asserting political power as the provincial and federal governments enter a new era of commitment to reconciliation. For First Nations, increasing their presence in their traditional territories is a key part of regaining their power, as the separation of Indigenous people from their lands was a main tool of colonization. 

For the Tla-o-qui-aht First Nation, the tribal parks system is one method of reinstating their traditional role and claiming authority over the land. 

Sea lions perched on rocks
Sea lions are seen on a small island near Hot Springs Cove, on the west coast of Vancouver Island. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)

Finding little success in decades of treaty negotiation, in 2014 the Tla-o-qui-aht declared their entire territory would be contained within four tribal parks. It’s one of several First Nations in B.C. to declare tribal parks, the intended use of which varies, though it’s principally geared toward conservation and declared using Indigenous sovereignty. 

The Haida Nation’s Duu Guusd Tribal Park, declared in 1981, was eventually recognized by the provincial government and turned into a conservation area. Others, like the Tla-o-qui-aht Tribal Parks and the Tsilhqot’in First Nation’s Dasiqox Tribal Park, have not received formal recognition.

Though the Tla-o-qui-aht’s designation doesn’t mean all land within the parks is protected from development, Masso describes it as a tool that allows the nation more power to work with municipal, provincial and federal jurisdictions that span its traditional territory.

One of those bodies is Parks Canada, part of whose Pacific Rim National Park Reserve falls within the declared Esowista Tribal Park. First Nations program manager Tammy Dorward, herself a Tla-o-qui-aht member, said Parks Canada acknowledges the role the park reserve played in colonization by separating Indigenous peoples from their land.

“In many heritage places that were administered by Parks Canada, we’ve seen a transition over time, where in the past Indigenous peoples were separated from their hahoulthee, their ancestral lands and waters, and where now the agency is collaborating with Indigenous people to support their connection,” Dorward said. 

Tla-o-qui-aht meets quarterly with Parks Canada, and is one of several Nuu-chah-nulth nations that operates a guardian program in the park. Guardians monitor the entirety of the lands and waters of a First Nation’s traditional territory. 

Ride along to Meares Island as ƛaʔuukʷiʔatḥ (Tla-o-qui-aht) Tribal Park guardians outline their role

Two ƛaʔuukʷiʔatḥ (Tla-o-qui-aht) Tribal Park guardians in Tofino, B.C., explain why what they do is important for protecting Indigenous sovereignty and the ecosystem of their tribal parks.

Click on the following link to view the video:

https://www.cbc.ca/newsinteractives/features/parks-and-reconciliation?cmp=newsletter_Evening%20Headlines%20from%20CBC%20News_1617_1254579

Masso said the nation is also asking Parks Canada to apply a First Nations service fee on their behalf.

Outside the federal park reserve, the nation collects funds through its Tribal Park Allies program, which asks Tofino-based businesses to add a one-per-cent fee to their guests’ bills to support its stewardship work. With approximately 115 businesses participating, Masso estimates the program brings in $300,000 annually.

“It’s a win-win model. It gets us benefiting from the use of our traditional lands without having to have a big argument or a debate about it,” Masso said.

Changing access

To the northwest of Tofino and Meares Island sits Hot Springs Cove, a tourism hot spot that drew more than 30,000 visitors a year before the surrounding Maquinna Marine Provincial Park was closed in 2020 during the pandemic.

The Ahousaht First Nation, in whose traditional territory the park lies, took over day-to-day management of the park in 2017 and has since has been working closely with B.C. Parks to manage commercial access to the area, and to the geothermal springs in particular. 

“The overuse was having some pretty negative impacts on cultural values, recreational values, natural values all found within the park,” said Michael Grandbois, B.C. Parks manager for the Clayoquot region.

A man wearing a parks jacket
B.C. Parks area supervisor Michael Grandbois outside his ranger truck in Tofino, B.C. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)

When the park re-opened in fall 2022, the Ahousaht and the province instituted new access conditions, including limited hours for commercial tours and a cap on the number of tourists a company can bring each day. The access conditions are temporary as B.C. Parks and the Ahousaht First Nation work toward a finalized visitor-use management strategy, expected to be completed in February 2024.

The nation views the stewardship of its traditional lands and waters as its responsibility, Ahousaht hereditary representative Tyson Atleo says. He’s appreciative of the provincial government’s partnership, which allows them greater agency in carrying out this work.

“It means a lot to be recognized for the work that we’re doing, and to be acknowledged as people that are from these territories, that belong to these territories and that have the responsibility to support them in the long-term future,” Atleo said.

Tyson Atleo represents one of three principal hereditary chieftainships of the Ahousaht First Nation. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)

The changes to access have meant a reduction in revenue for companies that offer tours to the springs. Keith Phillips, owner of West Coast Aquatic Safaris, said prior to the pandemic, tours to the springs accounted for a third of his business’s revenue. That business has been cut in half by the access changes. 

Despite that, he’s supportive of the greater role Ahousaht is playing in the park. He’d like to see more open communication between the province, the nation and the tourism industry to create policies that work for everyone.

“It’s quite a feat. We’re dealing with reconciliation, we’re dealing with just a new strategy in management, and I think there’s a lot of moving parts,” Phillips said.

An aerial shot of Hot Springs Cove, B.C., where people are seen enjoying the water
An aerial view of Hot Springs Cove in Maquinna Marine Park, north of Tofino, B.C. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)
Challenging decisions

Not all businesses are happy with the changes to access and land management, however. Four other Tofino businesses contacted by CBC News for this story didn’t answer or declined to comment, with one of those owners appearing very upset by the changes. 

B.C. Parks said it has been soliciting feedback from tour operators, but Grandbois said the process has not been easy. “People get into a comfort of having the way things are, and making big changes sometimes is a challenge for them — and for us, as well, in managing that,” he said. 

First Nation restricts tour companies at remote B.C. hot springs: 0.53

The ʕaḥuusʔatḥ (Ahousaht) First Nation is restricting the number of tour companies and visitors to Hot Springs Cove north of Tofino, B.C., part of its traditional territory.

Click on the following link to view the video:

https://www.cbc.ca/newsinteractives/features/parks-and-reconciliation?cmp=newsletter_Evening%20Headlines%20from%20CBC%20News_1617_1254579

Opportunities for the future

In addition to access changes, the Ahousaht First Nation has made infrastructure upgrades in the park, including installing a new boardwalk and building a ranger cabin. They also operate a guardian program, which Grandbois described as a blessing for his small team, which consists of just two other park rangers for all of the Clayoquot region.

“I can’t say enough about how happy I am that there are additional eyes and ears on the water and in the parks,” Grandbois said.

The park’s re-opening was closely followed by the launch of the nation’s first commercial tourism venture, Ahous Adventures. Atleo hopes it will provide the nation’s members with jobs for generations to come.

“We’re making incredible strides coming out of many decades of very intense economic marginalization in the region,” said Atleo. “It fills me with hope for the future that we can create opportunities for young people, and create opportunities for people later in life as well.”

a boat's wake with mountains in the background
Clayoquot Sound from a boat, north of Tofino, B.C. (Gian-Paolo Mendoza/CBC)

Beyond turning a profit, the company also allows the nation to show visitors its traditional territories through its lens. Atleo hopes that in a time of climate change and biodiversity loss, the nation’s model of stewardship can be a guiding force for greater sustainability.

“As Ahousaht, we love to share. That’s very cultural for us. Welcoming people and feeding them, showing them our territories, is something that we really love doing,” Atleo said. “We think that Indigenous cultural perspectives such as what the Ahousaht have for stewarding and caretaking natural resources are ones that the world can benefit from.”

As for Masso, he said he feels he can retire as a land manager once the old-growth trees are protected, and salmon return to their rivers in greater numbers.

“Our goal isn’t sustainability,” Masso said.  “Our goal is abundance.”

Author

by Emily Vance