YAKOUN CAMP, MARCH 28
DAY 7

It’s Easter Monday and the weather has smartened right up. The camp looks
and feels different from even just a few days ago. Drier, for sure, but it’s
more than that. There is a routine, a rhythm, a sense of purpose. People
have taken ownership of the tasks and responsibilities necessary to hold the
line and maintain the camp. Everybody pitches in cooking, cleaning,
chopping, sawing, carving, building. Heavy on the building, for apart from a
new outhouse, work has started on a cabin, quite the substantive structure,
which will provide shelter from the elements. This should come as a welcome
relief to those who have stuck it out in their wet little tents.

Some beautiful carvings are taking shape, but this is just the beginning for
later today two large cedars will be unloaded, the impressive beginnings of
planned totems. These guys are serious!

Morale remains high, both in camp and at the checkpoint. The checkpoint is
kept busy today. Guests come by offering moral support and plenty of food.
Tree planters, maintenance, back country recreationists, all cross the line
with little trouble. Most smile, wave, give a thumbs-up. There is the odd
scowl or nervous look, but mostly people understand.

The mayors from Port Clements and Masset stop by as does Arnie Bellis,
Vice President of the Haida Nation, filling the camp in on the happenings of
the day away from the line. Masset Haida are the core of the camp, proud
to show the rest of the islands how it is done, but there are people from other
communities as well. All are welcome.

I’m invited to stay for supper. I am honoured and thrilled, for this is a
feast! Smoked salmon in broth. Salmon sandwiches. Smoked black cod.
Homemade buns. For dessert there are sweet tasting cinnamon crab-apples.
The meal showcases the tremendous generosity of the people who have prepared and
donated the food but also exhibits the immense richness Haida Gwaii provides
its people.

As nightfall sets in and I prepare to leave the camp, the drums are brought
out for a night of singing. But as I get into my car, it’s not the drums I
hear, but the hammering of nails as construction continues well into the
night. Looks like they’re planning on being here for a while….