III. Defining Identity Through Past Tradition: Whaling and the Makah Community

According to ethnographies and oral tradition, whaling structured much of Makah cultural life and defined social hierarchy. Whale crews included six to eight members, with a designated chief, and the right to whale was passed down through the family. Rituals associated with whaling were closely guarded family secrets. It was a dangerous activity, as a whale could flip a canoe at any moment, or smash it with its tail. Whalers had to be prepared physically and ritually for the hunt. (Drucker, 1955: 35)

From ethnographies of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, one can get an idea of the details of the Makah whale hunt. The harpooner stood in the bow of the canoe and sang songs, trying to beckon the whale to the canoe. The tip of his harpoon was tied with seashells, probably a sharp mussel shell blade (Drucker, 1955: 35), and attached to a whale sinew rope with sealskin floats, so when the whale was harpooned, it did not get away (Malinkowski and Sheets, 1998: 377). Cedarbark baskets were attached to the rope as a drogue, but these are thought to be post-contact and modeled on those used by Europeans (Drucker, 1955: 35).

The harpooner had to hit the whale from quite close from the left side, for the harpoon was too heavy to throw. To get in the proper position to harpoon, the steersman and crew needed to be skilled and swift rowers (Drucker, 1955: 35; Renker and Gunther, 1990: 425). The paddles were tapered at the end, forming a six to eight inch long tip, to allow the water to drip noiselessly from the paddle, assuring a quiet approach (Drucker, 1955: 67).

Often a second canoe harpooned the whale once the first harpooner had hit it. The chief of this second canoe was usually related to the chief of the first. Sometimes a fast sealing canoe accompanied the hunters and took the shaft of the first harpoon back to the village to show there had been a kill (Drucker, 1955: 36). The harpooned whale dragged the canoe, or canoes, until it tired. Then a diver sewed up the whale’s mouth so it would not sink during the row to shore. Rowing with the extra weight of the whale sometimes took up to six days. Drucker writes that it was believed that if the crew had properly performed their rituals, the whale would turn towards shore, to bring the crew closer to the beach (Drucker, 1955: 36. Also see Jonaitis, 1999).

When anthropologist Elizabeth Colson visited the Makah in the 1940s, they had not whaled for about 20 years. There were two men still alive who had been whalers, as well as two whalers’ wives. Over her one year stay with the Makah from November 1941 to November 1942, the men told her of searching for their "guardian spirit" by fasting, bathing, and searching the forests (Colson, 1953: 176). Other people in the village remembered the bringing to shore of the whale and the butchering, but Colson provides no details.

Colson writes that though few know anything about actual whaling, objects associated with whaling were still visible on the reservation. At the annual heritage festival called Makah Day, costumes and songs related to whaling were used in the performances, but much of the ritual as well as utilitarian objects had been taken by nineteenth and early twentieth century collectors.

Still, Colson says that even young Makah know of the cultural importance of whaling to the tribe. Despite its absence at the time, pride was still taken in this activity. The lore of whaling was passed down to the next generation, even though the skills of whaling were not.

Keith Johnson, president of the Makah Whaling Commission, stated the tribe’s reasons for reviving the hunt:

Whaling has been part of our tradition for over 2,000 years. Although we had to stop in the 1920s because of the scarcity of gray whales, their abundance now makes it possible to resume our ancient practice of whale hunting. Many of our tribe members feel that our health problems result from the loss of our traditional sea food and sea mammal diet. We would like to restore the meat of the whale to that diet. We also believe that the problems which are troubling our young people stem from lack of discipline and pride and we hope that the restoration of whaling will help to restore that discipline and pride. But we also want to fulfill the legacy of our forefathers and restore a part of our culture which was taken from us. … In fact, one of our whalers has said that when he is in the canoe whaling, he will be reaching back in time and holding hands with his great-grandfathers, who wanted us to be able to whale. (Sullivan, 2000: 14)

The Makah may have been connecting to the past through the hunt, but the hunt was very much in the present. They were not able to choose whalers the way their ancestors had, passing the honor down from one generation to another. To prevent dispute, the Tribal Council formed the Makah Whaling Commission to deal with the details and qualifications—both spiritual and physical—of the hunt and the whalers.

To revive the whale hunt in the 1990’s, the Makah had to reconstruct every aspect of a tradition that was vaguely remembered by their elders, who were only children at the time of the last hunt. To discover the rituals and spiritual aspects of the hunt, they had to rely on their own oral tradition, anthropologists’ ethnographies, and the archaeology at Ozette. But for the practical aspects they looked to the outside. Alaskan Inuit, who also retain the right to whale, came to Neah Bay during the hunt to help the Makah with the butchering of their catch. The Makah communicated with the International Whaling Commission to learn of the regulations involved in killing a whale. Thus, to revive this tradition, the Makah had to participate in an intercultural and international dialogue, involving native peoples, commercial whalers, politicians, anthropologists, archaeologists, and historians.

The whale hunt brought people of the Northwest Coast together to celebrate the revival of something so sacred to the Makah’s way of life. Neighboring tribes may not have participated in the hunt itself, but they became involved by showing their support and offering any help they could. A number of local tribes paddled down in traditional canoes during the hunt to show their support. Alaskan Inuit whalers came during the hunt and helped butcher the whale after the catch. A group of Northwest Coast native Shakers insisted on performing a ritual with the crew to prepare them spiritually for the hunt. Even though the whalers did not personally believe in the Shaker ritual, they allowed them to come because they felt a need to let their neighbors express themselves in their own way. The crew knew that this hunt was not just about Makah, but was related to the identity and pride of all Northwest Coast peoples. To neighboring tribes, the Makah have traditionally been known as great whalers. For the Makah to reclaim their historical identity, is for the all tribes to once again feel connected to the past.

Today in Neah Bay, many Makah families wish to go on hunts of their own. In the past, whaling was the exclusive priveledge of a few high-ranking families. Now, any one who is Makah can whale. Division within Makah culture is minimal in this regard. It is the division between Makah and outsider—both native and non-native—that is important when it comes to whaling. The Makah are not interested in reclaiming the past for a few, but for all Makah. They seek a collective identity.

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