 LGBTQ

Search
This Magazine’s first-ever national talk series has
launched!

July 6, 2004July-August 2004

This Boat Is My Boat

Drew Hayden TaylorWebsite

ShareTweetEmailPrint

First they stole our land, then our methods of water

transportation. Cultural appropriation aside, is it too
much to ask that weekend warriors give the canoe and
kayak some respect?
F. Scott Fitzgerald once wrote “The rich are different from you
and I,” to which everybody usually responds, “Yeah, they’ve got
more money.” On a similar theme, it’s been my Ojibway-tainted
observation over the years that “middle-class white people are
different from you and I.” Yeah. They’re insane.ethos ok

Much has been written over the years about the differences
between native people and non-native people, and way they view
life. I think there’s no better example of this admittedly broad
opinion than in the peculiar world of outdoor recreational water
sports and the death wish that inspires them.

As a member of Canada’s Indigenous population, I’ve cast a

suspicious glance at all these waterlogged enthusiasts for several
reasons. The principal one is the now familiar concept of cultural
appropriation—this time of our methods of water transportation.
On any given weekend, Canadian rivers are jam-packed with
plastic and fibreglass kayaks and canoes, hardly of them filled
with authentic Inuit or First Nations people, all looking to taunt
death using an aboriginal calling card.

Historically, kayaks and canoes were the life’s blood of Inuit and
native communities. They were vital means of transportation and
survival, not toys to amuse bored weekend warriors. To add insult
to injury and further illustrate my point, there is a brand of gloves
used by kayakers to protect their hands from developing calluses.
They are called Nootkas. To the best of my knowledge, the real
Nootka, a West Coast First Nation, neither kayaked nor wore
gloves.

Perhaps my argument can best be articulated with an example of

the different ways these two cultural groups react to a single visual
stimulus. A group of native people and white people sit in two
separate canoes before a long stretch of roaring rapids—with large
pointy rocks and lots and lots of turbulent white water. Watch the
different reactions.

Granted, I’m generalizing, but I think I can safely say the vast
majority of native people, based on thousands of years of
travelling the rivers of this great country of ours, would probably
go home and order a pizza. Or possibly put the canoe in their Ford
pickup and drive downstream to a more suitable and safe location.
And pick up pizza on the way. Usually, the only white water native
people enjoy is in their showers. Hurtling toward potential death
and certain injury tends to go against many traditional native
beliefs. Contrary to popular assumption, “portage” is not a French
word—it is Ojibway for “Are you crazy? I’m not going through
that! Do you know how much I paid for this canoe?”

Now you put some sunburned Caucasian canoeists in the same

position, their natural inclination is to aim directly for the rapids
paddling as fast as they can toward the white water. I heard a
rumour once that Columbus was aiming his three ships directly at
a raging hurricane when he discovered the Bahamas. I believe I
have made my point.

I make these observations based on personal experience.

Recently, for purely anthropological reasons, I risked my life to
explore the unique subcultures of white water canoeing and sea
kayaking. There is also a sport known as white water kayaking,
but I have yet to put that particular bullet in my gun. So for three
days, I found myself in the middle of Georgian Bay, during a
storm, testing my abilities at sea kayaking. I, along with a former
Olympic rower, a Quebecois lawyer who consulted on the Russian
constitution, one of Canada’s leading diabetes specialists, and a
six-foot-seven ex-Mormon who could perform exorcisms, bonded
over four-foot swells and lightning. All in all, I think a pretty
normal crosscut of average Canadians. The higher the waves, the
more exciting they found the experience.
We need you!

Independent journalism like this needs your support. Make your tax-deductible
donation today!

Donate Now

Still, I often find these outings to be oddly patriotic in their own

way. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve seen people
wringing out their drenched shirts, showing an array of tan lines,
usually a combination of sunburned red skin and fishbelly-white
stomachs. It reminds me of the red-and-white motif on the
Canadian flag. Maybe that’s where the federal government got its
inspiration back in the 1960s for our national emblem.

But this is only one of several sports originated by various

Indigenous populations that have been corrupted and marketed
as something fun to do when not sitting behind a desk in a high-
rise office building. The Scandinavian Sami, otherwise known as
Laplanders, were instrumental in the development of skiing.
Though I doubt climbing to the top of a mountain and hurling
themselves down as fast as gravity and snow would allow was a
culturally ingrained activity. The same could be said of bungee
jumping. Originally a coming-of-age ritual in the South Pacific,
young boys would build platforms, tie vines to their legs and leap
off to show their bravery and passage into adulthood. I doubt the
same motivation still pervades the sport, if it can be called a sport.

I have brought up the issue of recreational cultural appropriation

many times with a friend who organizes these outdoor
adventures. The irony is she works at a hospital. And she chews
me out for not wearing a helmet while biking. She says there is no
appropriation. If anything, her enthusiasm for the sports is a sign
of respect and gratefulness.

That is why I think people should pay a royalty of sorts every time
they try to kill themselves using one of our cultural legacies. I’m
not sure if any aboriginal group has ever sought a patent or
copyright protection for kayaks or canoes—that probably was not
part of the treaty negotiations. But somebody should definitely
investigate the possibility. Or better yet, every time a non-native
person white water canoes down the Madawaska River, or goes
kayaking off Tobermory, they should first take an aboriginal
person to lunch. That is a better way of showing respect and
gratefulness. And it involves much less paperwork.
ShareTweetEmailPrint
 Topics:

 Uncategorized

 Drew Hayden Taylor

 Features

 indigenous rights

 Ojibway

 Sports