& Prayer for the Whitefish

A jimaan journey in honour of Elder Marshall Nadjiwon

words & photos :: Scott Parent

When I was 19 years old, I was a deckhand on the Laurie E. commercial fishing tug that docked at Thunder Beach, Georgian Bay. Captained by Bernard LePage of the Georgian Bay Métis community, we harvested whitefish primarily but also walleye, chub and lake trout.

That period of my life had a profound impact on me. I experienced wonders on the Bay that only a fisherman encounters, including a rendezvous with a rare northern puffer near Double Top Island and a massive sturgeon northeast of Giant’s Tomb. I also learned how much the Great Lakes are shaped by human impact and saw firsthand how we’ve decimated the natural order of species in the region by not only altering their environment but by overfishing and then dumping non-native fish stocks into the void.

Harvesting so many fish from the Bay while working on the Laurie E., I wrestled with an inner conflict. But I also acknowledged the transience of my experience; I needed to go through a process while learning things I wouldn’t have known otherwise.

I met Elder Justin Johnston of the Chippewas of Nawash Unceded First Nation one evening last summer at Cape Croker Park, Neyaashiinigmiing, in a big canoe. Justin and I shared the glassy paddle across Sydney Bay with four others: Tom Thwaits, founder of the Big Canoe Project; Miingan and Christopher Akiwenzie, brothers from the Chippewas of Nawash; and Jim Stinson, postdoctoral fellow at York University.

The evening event was organized by the Bagida’waad Alliance, in partnership with York University and the Big Canoe Project, to facilitate land and water-based learning experiences for youth within the Saugeen Ojibway Nation. That night Justin spoke about his plan to complete a ceremonial paddle around the Neyaashiinigmiing Peninsula to fulfill the vision of his late friend, Elder Marshall Nadjiwon.

A commercial fisherman, traditional teacher and visionary, Marshall once said: “The air, the earth and water—our people will never survive without it. These are our medicines. The trees, the animals teach us. The water teaches us; the fish. That’s our job, to look after these things.”

“This canoe journey is to help with the vision of Marshall and Justin, doing a healing for the community,” Chris explained. “Putting medicines down along the shoreline, and prayers for the water, the land and the people.” This would be a group effort, steering the big canoe and supporting Justin while he placed his prayer bundles for the community and for the whitefish.

“At first we thought of walking, but that would have been quite a long journey on foot,” Justin explained. “My brother was 74 and I’m pushing 70. When Marshall left us, I wasn’t able to do anything after the loss because he did carry a lot of knowledge.”

“After Marshall passed away,” Chris added, “Justin was alone on this journey and I told him he should ask my mother Natasha Akiwenzie at the Bagida’waad Alliance because we could bring people in and help organize this.”

Departing from Sandy Beach at Neyaashiinigmiing and making landfall in Hope Bay, the 45 km journey would take two full days, and with Natasha’s coordination efforts ten paddlers assembled to launch the big canoe. Chris paddled in the bow. Dylan White, Mia Toose and myself were positioned behind him. Elder Justin was in the middle of the boat with Natasha, Miingan, Caley Doran and Peter Mitchell seated behind him. Tom Thwaits commanded the stern, seated half-cheek on the gunnel while handling the 29-ft boat with ease. He guided us into shore where we worked collectively to stabilize the boat and disembark one at a time.

“I know Marshall will be with us. We may not see him, but he’ll be there in spirit,” said Justin. “We stop in certain areas where it is sacred and very powerful. I’ll be taking my pipe out and doing the offerings for the whitefish in the water. In times like this when fish are gone, we have to look at alternative ways to bring them back.” Then he added, “I remember a long time ago when people fished, they fished only for what they needed.”

Since the early 2000s, fewer young whitefish have been making it to adulthood. Overfishing, non-native fish predation and loss of shore ice in winter are the main reasons these native fish populations are struggling.

With the help of his brother Miingan and the crew, Chris assisted the Elder by preparing prayer flags and securing them in place (one for each cardinal direction along the route) on the branches of cedar trees. We slept on the shores at Cove of Cork where Justin conducted a sacred fire for Marshall. Half of the crew stayed awake that night, assisting with the fire. Justin shared his teachings until sunrise.

Something I’ve learned from this journey is that out of gratitude emerges reciprocity. Out of reciprocity, gratitude ensues.

I am gratified for those early experiences on the Bay on the Laurie E. and also to those whitefish we took that fed the community. Thankful for this experience shared in the big canoe with this group of people. All hands gathered to endow Justin's prayers, to feed the spirit of the whitefish. As he and Marshall intended.

“People think this is an easy road to walk. I can assure you it’s not,” Justin reflected. “That’s why these things are important. They have to be done with respect.”

Meanwhile, in that big canoe he kept our hearts full of jokes and laughter. That laughter was medicine. “I am grateful to have been able to fulfill this for my brother,” he concluded.

It was a successful journey by virtue of many hands, from the shore support to the paddlers and organizations that came together to support the endeavour. We were all guided by the spirit of a visionary, Marshall Nadjiwon, his acknowledgement of the whitefish and his prayer for their sovereignty in the Bay