Carrie Johnson
Underscore Native News
LOWER ELWHA, Washington – Two nights before the final landing of the 2025 Paddle to Elwha Canoe Journey, a massive earthquake in Russia caused tsunami warnings all along the northern Pacific and coastal regions, leaving many canoe families to question their safety in completing the journey they’d embarked on days or weeks before.
By the next day, the morning of July 30, many families opted out of traveling via the water for safety reasons while others attempted to push through the harrowing waters. As the conditions remained challenging throughout the day, canoe families once again faced the decision of whether to continue travel to the final landing.
At Jamestown, one of the final stops for canoe families on the way to Lower Elwha, a late night skippers meeting determined that canoe families would make their own decisions regarding the final launch.
The next morning at 9 a.m. on July 31, 29-year-old skipper Frankie Shaw, from the Kw’umut Lelum Canoe family and Ance First Nation, entered the waters of the Salish Sea, as his canoe family placed their full trust in him and support boat that they would make it safely to the beachsite at the Lower Elwha.
The weather conditions were brutal – treacherous, windy and swelling white caps including thick fog made for a gnarly and nerve wracking experience, while Shaw pushed through with encouragement from his support boat Captain John Elliot, who between him and his wife Cecilia have 80 years of experience on the water.
“I trust him more than anybody out on the water. He made the call that we could do it. We put our trust in him and the family and we made it,” Shaw said.
Shaw’s canoe family, Kw’umut Lelum, is from Vancouver Island, Canada and is full of youth between the ages of 12 and 18. An Indigenous family and child services organization, Kw’umut Lelum Family and Child Services works with nine First Nations on the island. Shaw, who grew up in foster care, found his start in 2009 in the Paddle to Suquamish Journey.
“I grew up through foster care and now 15 years later, I’m still involved, on the other side. A lot of our kids have very different home lives and I was in their shoes 15 years ago, so just to have the opportunity to be a role model, a positive role model, that there is light at the end of the tunnel and they can accomplish anything they put their minds to,” Shaw said. “Travel journeys really opened up my mind, really just broadened my horizons when I was their age.”
The Kw’umut Lelum Canoe family first drove their canoe on a trailer to Lummi, paddled south to Tulalip, jumped to Port Gamble and came up that side of the coast. Overall, the days were long, as the nature of the journey, while healing, can also be grueling, requiring late nights from evening festivities, sometimes going to bed at midnight and then waking up as early as 4 a.m. for paddling. The family’s dedication made Shaw recognize that his canoe family had a strong understanding of what it takes to be on the water.
“It was pretty nerve wracking that last day paddling into Elwa. That was some of the roughest waters I’ve ever paddled on…but everybody did awesome. It takes the whole family,” Shaw explained.
For some on Shaw’s canoe, finishing the journey in the states was a first time ordeal, and almost didn’t happen at all based on political events in the states, border troubles and the sheer amount of money it takes to accomplish the journey. Shaw made sure his canoe family took care of themselves, having mental wellness checks and listening in awe as his youth took up singing while out on the water.
Decisions to enter the water were not made lightly, and factored on experience and support boat capabilities among other things. Making it to the final beach was a risky challenge.
“When we came through the fog and saw the beach, it was unbelievable. Almost like it was a relief. It was pretty sketchy on the waters, but once we saw the beach, everyone was elated,” Shaw said.
“We’re blessed that this is our job – to be in community”
After beaches are emptied and campsites begin filling up, the next stops are the rows and rows of vendors, food trucks and bleachers.
Alyssa Garcia and Rick Nevarez are enrolled citizens of the Walker River Paiute Tribe, and find great joy in the hours they spend under their canopy and in their booth at protocol selling t-shirts, hoodies, sweatshirts, stickers, hats and a number of other designs that add some punk style to the territory.
Garcia, who is also Pomo and Coast Miwok, finds inspiration from her grandmother and has worked to incorporate her family, culture, love and meaning into her work while also paying homage to the tribes at canoe journey by incorporating little, embroidered cedar hats with feathers on her designs.
“I feel like I make a bunch of new family members and I gain a bunch of new nieces and nephews,” Garcia said. “I’m the auntie that I didn’t have growing up. I want to be that for these kids. The youth is what it’s all about.”
Garcia and Nevarez have a storefront shop in Portland, Oregon, called The Ink Lab Custom Apparel, but journeyed to Lower Elwha for their second canoe journey and protocol appearance.
While days at protocol can feel long, the hours fly by to Garcia, and so does the merchandise.
“I feel like people feel like our booth is a little bit magical. People connect here,” Garcia said.
Protocol includes a week-long, almost non-stop celebration where every canoe family presents songs and even gifts to the host nation. It’s an opportunity to come together and give respect to the host tribe. The floor for dancing is massive, meant to fit all canoe family members as the drums and chorused voices spread throughout the space.
“We believe that the water is medicine to our people”
When canoe families arrive at other nations’ beaches, it’s customary to ask permission to both land and come ashore to the respective territory.
While the final landing didn’t have as many canoes waiting in the water as years before, it was still a site to see support and community as the wind billowed past the crowds of people and carried the words of welcome and praise.
One by one, as the trickle of canoe families coming in began to slow down, the feeling of accomplishment grew like the number of footprints tracking in the sand. For one canoe family in particular, there was one final thing to be done.
A long line of people holding hands came to the edge of where the water reached for the land and slowly but surely, all entered the ocean with the sounds of cheers and yelps merging with the crash of waves. The journey had been long, difficult and dangerous, and the act of bathing in the water was a way of spiritual cleansing.
“We believe that the water is medicine to our people,” said Jeff James, traveling with the canoe family Xwelmexw. “We picked up a lot along the way as we traveled and this is what we came on this canoe journey for, to let go of any hardships that we might’ve had. We made the pact that after we made it to the final landing that we were going to go jump in the water together.”
The wholesome ordeal also included helping an elder into the water for a dunk, taking her hands and guiding her through the rougher waves. A symbol of how the water is a place for home, too.
The end of canoe journey is an opportunity for all tribes to be together – whether it’s waiting in line for an Indian fry bread burger, hopping onto trucks and shuttles for rides to camp or walking down to the beaches to offer songs to the ocean. Protocol is recognized as not only the end of a journey, but the beginning of a next one.