Autumn MacGee has two moods when she is in the water. One is full of contagious laughter, jokes and talkative banter with her crew. The other is more fierce, holding an intense focus for maneuvers in the water, her eyes sharp and searing, prepared for whatever comes ahead while simultaneously healing from what’s behind her. 

MacGee, Yakama and Muckleshoot, is a skipper for the Muckleshoot Canoe Family and canoe program manager for the Muckleshoot Tribe. As a mother to six kids ranging from ages 1 to 25, she not only takes care of her family, but finds time to support the whole canoe family, around 70 people, as well, being instrumental year round in the preparations for Tribal Canoe Journeys.

 ”We all have to work together and be patient with each other,” MacGee, who is 43, said. “It’s not the calm before the storm. It’s the storm before the calm.” 

Canoe journey is an annual event where Pacific Northwest tribes, other coastal tribes from around the country and globally paddle in a canoe anywhere from a few days to a few weeks at the end of July, based on the location of their respective nation, to a host nation for a weeklong celebration. 

This year was especially unique with the celebration of the removal of two dams on the Elwha River: the Elwha Dam in 2012 and the Glines Canyon Dam in 2014. With the deconstruction of the two dams, it marked the first time in nearly 15 years that the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe — located west of Port Angeles, Washington, and northwest of Seattle — has hosted Canoe Journey.

While practice varies for all the canoe families, the Muckleshoot canoe family began preparing for this year’s Tribal Canoe Journeys in the winter with song and dance practice. In March the family woke up their canoes and took them out on the water after resting through the winter, to begin training. 

Canoe Journey is an opportunity for fellowship and healing all wrapped into one, with special focus on teaching the next generation the ways of the water and their cultures. After the loss of several members in their community, Muckleshoot sought to complete their journey on the sea in honor of their lost ones, finding ways to cope with the grief and turn towards medicine — the water and each other.

Though the final days before journey are filled with particularly intense final preparations, getting ready for journey begins almost as soon as the previous year’s journey ends. 

Preparing for Journey

A few days before the start of Canoe Journey in Auburn, Oregon, a looming view of Mount Rainier can be seen, with snow tipped peaks, pine trees and cool winds overseeing the Muckleshoot Reservation, which is located south of Seattle. The Muckleshoot Canoe Family were aiming to depart for Elwha on July 23. 

“ Today and tomorrow are going to be the craziest days here because obviously kids are still making regalia, people are coming in to drop off their items that we’re going to be packing in our box truck, assignments are being made on who’s driving, who’s bringing the youth in their vehicles, that kind of a thing, making sure all the paperwork is done, any gear or snacks or food that we might need, we’re just getting all of that ready,” MacGee said.

Just yards away from the water tower are the powwow grounds and community center with teenage girls and boys preparing for their Canoe Journey at the House of Muckleshoot Culture.

At one table, a group of girls full of chats and giggles craft regalia and gifts. One sews moccasins made from Pendleton fabrics while taking a quick bite of Taco Bell as the others decide what special color fabrics they wish to use for themselves.

Around the room, women pull red yarn for wool skirts and carefully choose designs for vests that will be showcased later in the journey. 

Across the building in a blue room with murals painted on the wall and a white board display of cultural songs written in messy red marker, boys build drums and other items to later give away. One of the boys, whose first Canoe Journey is this year, inspects the first cedar hat he’s ever made. In the Coast Salish tribes, anything “first” that is made is given away. 

Every couple of hours, the youth gather and head outside to practice their songs, drumming and dance for jam sessions at the camp sites. 

All of these spaces have an air of comfort, belonging and easy community – and also mass chaos.

Less than 48 hours before heading to Squaxin Island to camp for the first night of journey, members of the Muckleshoot Canoe Family were still busy putting final touches on regalia, packing up the trailer and making sure their canoes were ready for the Paddle to Elwha. 

On July 22, youth gathered at the House of Muckleshoot Culture, sitting at tables with their hands busy weaving cedar hats and stringing beads. Each room filled with the hustle and bustle of last-minute packing, the decisions of what color duct tape was wanted for suitcases, people’s bags and camping gear. All of it piling up to be loaded onto a truck the next morning. 

Outside, a group of Muckleshoot youth gathered together. Cameron Williams, Muckleshoot and Diné, is one of two skippers for the Muckleshoot nation this year. He led a group of teenage boys as they sang with the beat of their handdrums. The group practiced songs composed by Benjamin Anderson, an 18-year-old Muckleshoot citizen. 

As they sang, a group of dancers practiced under the instruction and encouragement of Maddison Loggins, 16-year-old Muckleshoot citizen and Yakama Nation descendant.

When Anderson wrote his newest song, “River Awakes,” he asked Loggins to choreograph the dance for it. As he sang she let her body flow, the moves coming to her as she danced.

“Everyone just came up to me and was like, ‘Can you teach me the dance? Can you teach me the dance?’” Loggins said. “We kind of all just help each other.”

For Williams, being a part of Canoe Journey means sharing that peace and culture with the youth. They are part of the reason he wakes up to paddle so early, to attend the practices for song and dance and be involved.

“We don’t want them to be ashamed to be Native American, to be Muckleshoot,” Williams said.

“We want them to be proud. We want them to learn their language, learn their traditional uses, learn their songs, and learn their dances.”

As many youth practiced their song and dance, a group of four men huddled together in the carving shed.

The carving shed at Muckleshoot is filled with projects at varying stages of completion. Full of yet-to-be finished canoes, totem poles with dark, painted faces, sawdust and wood chips coating the hard floors, paddles and other miscellaneous things. The smell of fresh wood, cigarette smoke and the metallic bite of power tools fills the air. A carved racing canoe hangs from the rafters. 

In the back shed, home to Muckleshoot’s canoes, four men worked together to make sure Eagle Spirit, one of the Muckleshoot Canoe Family’s canoes, was in prime condition for journey. 

A lot of work goes into successful ventures for Canoe Journey. The Muckleshoot Tribe is all too familiar with the process. From canoe practices, cold water trainings where individuals are taught to build a tolerance to the cold temperatures of the ocean in cases of emergencies, to preparing gifts for the host nation and practicing song and dance, as well as organizing logistics such as gathering release forms, and coordinating chaperones for youth on the journey without their guardian. 

On top of all that, this year also brought new challenges. 

Just one week before leaving for Canoe Journey, MacGee lost her best friend to cancer. Just a few months before that, in June, the Muckleshoot Canoe Family lost their young skipper, Lukas Daniels, in a motorcycle accident.

Although it’s been tradition in the past to sit out from Canoe Journey after a loss, or to not participate if the spirit is not in a good place, MacGee continued to push through in order to be present for the youth, as a large portion of the canoe family this year was younger girls and boys from the community. 

MacGee has been working intensely with other members of her department to make sure everyone is taken care of.

“I always have this story that my husband and I almost get divorced every time we leave for Canoe Journey, because it’s just so hectic,” MacGee said. “But once we get there and we get going, the routine takes place.” 

MacGee has been a part of the Muckleshoot Canoe Family for more than two decades. She first sat in the back of a canoe as skipper on her second Canoe Journey. This year Williams and MacGee will each lead one of the family’s two canoes, playing rock, paper, scissors the first day to decide who got to lead which canoe. The skipper’s job is to make decisions on the water and put together a team and inspire the paddlers each day. 

Sitting in the back of the canoe for every day of paddling, the skippers are trusted to guide their canoes, literally and figuratively, while out in the water for hours on end. 

At the end of every day, a skippers meeting is held at the host nation to discuss logistics. The skipper in attendance will then bring the information back to their respective tribe for further decisions. Skippers meetings are crucial, as shown on the night of July 29, when tsunami warnings caused skippers and families to band together for combing through options to complete the journey. 

Supporting the paddlers

Canoe families are made up of more than just those out on the water. 

A number of crews are organized. There is a ground crew that transports and helps set up tents, and is responsible for suitcases and duffel bags. As members of canoe families are out of the water paddling each day, a whole support crew packs up one camp and heads to the next host nation to prepare camp for that night. 

There’s also a medical crew with certified workers, and a kitchen crew to prepare breakfast and dinner. 

When paddlers are out on the water, there is also a crew that operates the support boat, a vessel that follows the canoe at a reasonable distance in case of emergencies and offers rest during long strides in the water.

When paddlers woke up at 4 a.m. to begin paddling to the next host nation, so did the crews. Some even earlier to make sure coffee and breakfast were prepared.

Rachel Heaton, Muckleshoot, is the cultural wellness and plant specialist for the Muckleshoot Culture Department. Her office is brimming with dried medicinal plants, salves and tinctures. She helps support paddlers by creating first aid kits filled with traditional medicines. 

“We use a number of [plants] for different ailments that they may be faced with while they’re on the water, and it’s always a great opportunity to get our youth out before and help them identify the plants,” Heaton said.

“And then to hear them come back and say, ‘while I was on journeys, I got to use this plant because I got sunburned, or I used this tea and it helped me go to sleep.’ It fulfills me to know that I get to help, even if it’s just in like those little ways,” she said. 

Another responsibility on Canoe Journey is keeping the traditional canoes themselves safe when paddlers, skippers, and crews rest each night after a day on the water. 

After the canoes arrive on shore each night, security from each hosting nation has to stand watch throughout the rest of the day and into the night.

Following the landing hosted by Muckleshoot at Saltwater State Park in Washington on July 26, Hannah Foulkes, Muckleshoot, stood watch over about a half dozen canoes sitting at the water’s edge. During the day, that meant having to tell many passersby not to touch the canoes or try to sit in them.

“I’m watching the canoes, making sure that people who didn’t paddle them in or are from the canoe family, aren’t touching them or sitting on them or vandalizing them,” Foulkes said. “Because we’ve had that happen before where they poured beer on it and they peed on them.”

In her first few minutes of being at the beach, Foulkes recalled talking to a man who rode up on his bike and started touching the canoe. 

“He got mad at me, and he kept riding his bike around here and didn’t leave for like, 5 or 10 more minutes,” Foulkes said. “He was upset that I said something to him about touching other people’s stuff. But you’re a grown adult. You should already know boundaries.”

Foulkes said during the day, she has to tell someone to not touch the canoe or not let their kids play inside it every 15 minutes or so. 

Though it feels like common sense to her, to not touch other people’s things, she unfortunately has to remind people over and over not to mess with the traditional canoes. Taking care of canoes is a strict practice, equivalent to taking care of another person. How the canoe is taken care of will determine how the canoe takes care of those inside her or him, referred to with pronouns based on who skippers and builds the canoe.

“So I make sure that people know their boundaries and stay away from them, because they like to touch them, to sit on them, to let their kids play with them, and it’s just disrespectful,” Foulkes said.

A Chance for Healing on the Water

The sounds of laughter ring through the air mingled with the pounding of tent stakes into the dry earth and the rustle of camp chairs being put together. 

In the hours between the canoe’s landing and a dinner hosted by that night’s host nation, there is plenty of down time at camp each day. 

From napping in tents and enjoying quiet time, to braiding each other’s hair and playing games around camp, people stay busy.

On July 26 after the Muckleshoot Canoe Family welcomed other canoe families to Saltwater State Park and shared a meal, members from their family hosted a sobriety meeting open to all.

It was the first time a group from Recovery House, a place for residents to live and take next steps after active addictions, joined the Muckleshoot Canoe Family. They participated in canoe trainings along with song and dance practices before joining the journey as paddlers and members of ground crew.

“A lot of people in early recovery, they don’t do the consistency, but it seemed like with the Canoe Journey stuff, they were being consistent,” said Eva James, Muckleshoot.

For some from the Recovery House, the routine of the support boat takes hold. The early mornings include passing binoculars back and forth to see far off sites and making sure coolers full of snacks and drinks are available for the long day. Later, when a paddler from the canoe needs a break from pulling, there’s no hesitation from extra members in the support boats to tighten a life jacket over their torso and trade places.

On July 28, while one member from the Recovery House stood on top of the boat to scour the waters coming ahead, no rail for balance needed, another threw his shirt off and sat inside the canoe paddling hard and fast, letting the sun beat down on his shoulders.

One member of the Recovery House, who asked not to be identified, talked about how the opportunity to not only just be involved, but to be involved with crucial components of the Canoe Journey gives a higher responsibility and stronger purpose for those in recovery. 

All paddlers from Muckleshoot, though, reference how when they’re out on the water, even in the moments when no one is talking, there is still sound – the lapping of waves, the inhale and exhale of the paddler beside them, the whistle of the wind. Below, the waves carry them to the next destination, and towards another step in life, and above, the sun rises and falls as Canoe Journey once again takes a family into her hands and offers all she can provide.

“Being on the water is healing. We made sure that we took care of ourselves properly. Did some prayers, did some work, some ceremony on the water too,” MacGee said, reflecting on her experience on journey. 

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