#neah bay washington

[4thethriving]

[orofeaiel]

Sea Stacks at Cape Flattery

[callahanvilla]

[oddbatss]

my heart is longing for the pnw again

[lichen-soup-scribe]

Need y'all to promise me that if you're ever in the northwest corner of Washington, you will stop at Neah Bay on the Makah rez and find a food truck called Bigginz and order an entirely beige meal that will heal your soul. (The Halibut is locally caught! Maybe the clams as well?)

[lilithslittleworld]

Formal Crushing

A/N: Felt in a cutesy mood and what better than to write a Seth fluff oneshot? :-) Just a heads up, I'm writing Seth a little ambiguously here, as in, trying to make his age adaptable (staying within the 16-19 age range tho)

I'm also going to add a little music recommendation list for reading this oneshot (aka what I listened to while writing it!)

I did do my research on the Makah Tribe and Reservation for Violet's identity and culture. However, if there are any mistakes, for either Native identity and/or tribe, I deeply apologize for them now. I wanted to be as informed and respectful as possible while writing the Native elements of their relationships.

Summary: Violet and Seth go to the same high school on the rez and the school dance is coming up. There's no way he'll ask her though, right?

CW: Seth Clearwater x Fem Reader (Violet), ONLY FLUFF.

Music list for this oneshot: (4-7 are for the dance)

Sweet by CAS

Love Songs on the Radio by Mojave 3

Say Yes to Heaven by Lana del Rey

Words by F. R. David

Material Girl by Madonna

Yeah by Usher

Stop the Music by Rihanna

Put Your Head On My Shoulder by Paul Anka* slow-dance scene

It wasn't totally unrealistic of you to hold onto the hope of Seth asking you out. But the weeks had started to fly by this second semester and you had not gotten more than his usual friendly smile or conversation, not that you were complaining. Ever since your family had moved down to Forks that Fall, your eyes had been on Seth Clearwater and his on you. Kind of.

Moving down to a different reservation, with a different tribe around had been an interesting experience. Though the Makah tribe, like the Quileute, were both native to Washington, your presence didn't always feel welcomed by others. Leah, Seth's older sister, had made that clear through her debilitating glares she shot at you as she waited for her brother. Seth hadn't ever noticed, really, as his gaze was always on you. But then again, that didn't mean anything.

Seth, though, was curious about your tribe and liked to find the similarities between the both of you. His eyes lit up eagerly as you shared more about yourself and your own little world, it was hard not to smile back. Your school days ended with two back-to-back classes with him, to which he walked alongside you, opening every door that came your way and carrying your books. It always crushed you a little, to have to say goodbye to Seth, knowing very well you'd see him again the next day. But there was something about him that made you want to spend all of your time talking to him.

Some nights, as you lay in your bed, you'd imagine staying up late into the night with Seth beside you, debating and exploring every fascinating topic that crossed your minds. You knew his family liked telling campfire stories under the stars like your own did back in Neah Bay. The image of Seth listening attentively as his elders told and retold the stories of his tribe made you smile. He seemed like the perfect person to go star gazing, as well, but you could never see that actually happening.

Late into your first January at Forks, the knowledge of the upcoming formal was all anyone talked about. Though it was still a week away, you had hoped to hear of an invitation from Seth. As usual, Seth was waiting for you outside of your calculus class. He always made an effort to coax a smile out of you, knowing how much you hated that class. It always worked.

"Hey, Vi," he smiled at you, "What's the one thing a vampire never, and I mean ever, order at a restaurant?"

His enthusiasm was infectious and you couldn't help but giggle at the corniness of his joke. You had heard rumors about a Quileute rival being cold-ones, you'd even heard Jacob Black and other friends of Seth mention them but you weren't that superstitious to believe them.

"A Bloody Mary?" you replied, sure of your answer when you saw Seth's brow furrow slightly.

"Man, that's an even better answer than the one I read," he sighed, pushing open the door towards the stairwell, waiting, as usually, for you to pass first.

You laughed at his bewildered state. "You're telling me that wasn't the answer?"

"It was a 'stake sandwich'", he responded sheepishly, holding the door for you once again.

"Still one of your best jokes, Clearwater," you responded, shaking your head in exaggerated mock appreciation.

"Pfff, you flatter me," he joked, taking a seat in the first row of seats, always leaving the one next to him for you. Both of your days ended with English, something both of you liked. Unlike the others from his friend group, or 'pack' as he called them, Seth enjoyed reading, something else you both had in common. You liked to watch him take notes, picking up on the neatness of his handwriting, the way his tongue stuck out in concentration, and how he never hesitated to ask the questions that everyone else had too.

The class ended quicker than you expected, fifty minutes isn't a long time when you're having fun, or at least not bored to death. As everyone scurried to gather their things, Seth simply got up, grabbed both of your notebooks and flashed you a smile as you got up to walk next to him. The walk to the parking lot was much more silent than your typical ones, making you uneasy but Seth didn't seem off.

Seth was quiet until you two were outside the building, lost in thought from what it appeared. You could see Leah in the distance, standing next to her truck, waiting for Seth. Her glare pierced into you, sending a shiver down your spine and indicating that it was time for you to part ways.

Seth looked down at you, smiling at you thoughtfully. "See you tomorrow, Vi?" he mused, reaching out to lightly brush your arm.

You sighed, expecting a different goodbye. "Yeah, see you," you mumbled, taking your notebooks from Seth's extended hands. You spun around, in direction to your own truck, the one Billy Black had had Jacob fix for you. Slamming its doors as you got in didn't change anything but it made you feel a little bit better. Was Seth never going to make a move? It was the twenty-first century so asking him out wasn't off the table but it wasn't what you wanted. The last thing you wanted was to force something but it was beginning to drive you crazy not knowing if the time you shared together meant something or not.

The next morning, you were surprised to find that Seth wasn't waiting for you outside your locker as he usually did. He never got sick so that wasn't a logical explanation, and neither did Leah, who was present today. You pursed your lips, flipping back your long, black hair as you brushed past her. Had she gotten to her brother, driving a wedge between the two of you?

Your stomach turned as you saw that Seth wasn't waiting for you outside of calculus either. You rolled your eyes at the tears that were beginning to pool, refusing to let them fall. It was quite silly of you to feel this way, you and Seth were simply friends, regardless of how you felt about him. You were surprised at yourself, almost angry, at your internal emotional outburst for this single absence of his. Maybe you wouldn't feel this way if his sister didn't hide the fact that she hated you, or if maybe Seth had tried to hold your hand. Or if he had even mentioned the formal.

Once English finished, you gratefully leaped out of your seat, making a point to rush out of that dreadful building. Your eyes scanned the parking lot, just in case you saw someone from Seth's 'pack'. Your eyes landed on the Clearwater's truck, fully expecting to see a spiteful Leah looking your way. Instead, Seth stood by his sister's truck, holding a bouquet and fidgeting visibly. A slight smile crept up on your lips as you made your way towards him.

Seth's eyes lit up, the way they always did, as he saw you amidst the crowd of teenagers scurrying to their cars. "Vi," he sighed in relief.

"Hey, you," you smiled at the sound of your name.

"These are violets er- the color is violet. the lady at the store said they're 'violas'. I thought you'd like them since you both share a name," he confessed, running his free hand through his hair nervously.

You took the flowers in your hands, smelling them softly before taking in their beauty. Your had heart fluttered when he had said that, knowing you were named after the flowers.

"They're beautiful," you murmured, looking back up at him in gratitude.

"So are you," he blushed, pulling on the hem of his shirt, nervously. Your own blush mixed with the smile that was permanently spread along your face.

"I-I was actually hoping you'd go to the formal with me. It doesn't even have to be in that way if you don't want it to be, we can go as friends. But Violet, since the first day you walked into my life, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. You're intelligent, sweet, caring, and so funny." Seth took one of your hands in his. His skin was so warm beneath yours.

"And beautiful, apparently," you reminded him, squeezing his hand as you teased him.

Seth let out a breathy laugh. "Obviously." You rolled your eyes.

"So, what do you say?"

"Of course I'll go with you, Clearwater," you grinned, "I've been waiting for a full-blown confession like that since the Fall."

Seth's smile reached his eyes, his body shaking with laughter at your little moment. "That's on me," he replied timidly, "I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or rush you in any way."

"Neither did I," you agreed. It had been worth the wait and the months of platonic friendship you two had had. All the little things Seth had done and said during this time flashed in your mind, with his words echoing behind them. He had kept a safe distance out of respect for you and the friendship you had cultivated in such a short time.

"Regardless, if you change your mind or are uncomfortable with anything please let me know," he said urgently.

"I don't think I'll be changing my mind anytime soon," you winked at him, pulling him in for one of his bearhugs. With his strong arms wrapped around you, you felt him sigh. He smelled like pine and cologne, such a calming and familiar scent. You always felt so safe in his arms but it was much nicer now that you knew how he felt.

"So," you pondered, pulling away from Seth momentarily, "What time are you picking me up at next Friday?"

Seth just smiled his wonderful smile and said, "How's six o'clock?"

---------

It was five-fifty and you were nearly ready. Your deep, purple dress' bodice hugged your body, flowing down to just above your knees. Your long, straight, black hair was down, falling upon either of your shoulders. It was five fifty-five and you were nearly ready physically. Emotionally, that was a whole other story. Your nervous energy had kept you up the night before and now the appearance of slight fear mixed in. It was just Seth but that made you feel butterflies in your stomach now.

A knock on your door broke your mental silence. It was six o'clock, just as Seth had promised. You took one last quick glance in the mirror before heading towards the door.

Seth stood in a long sleeve, white button-up, dress pants and shoes, and a black tie. His shoulder-length, dark hair was loose like yours.

"You look-" you both started in unison before bursting into a fit of giggles.

"You look so beautiful, Vi," Seth murmured, reaching out to stroke your arm.

"And you look very handsome," you agreed, nodding your head for extra effect.

"Hello, Violet!" someone called out to me from behind the shed. It sounded like an older woman.

"Er- yeah, my mom was hoping to get a few pictures of us. I know its not exactly ideal to be chaperoned as I already have my license," he said loud enough so his mother would hear him.

"Oh hush," a dark-haired woman said, "I'm Sue, Leah and Seth's mother. It's so nice to finally meet you! I've been hearing 'Violet this' and 'Violet that' since the start of the school year."

Seth's face froze, mortified at his mother's constant yet criminal chatter. "Mom," he emphasized, pointing towards the camera in her had.

"Ah, yes! Picture time, everybody," she said cheerfully, guiding you both to the nearest tree. "Pictures are always nicer in nature."

"They are," you agreed, smiling. Seth's tensed body relaxed slightly as you said that.

"My mom's just like this," you whispered to him, squeezing his hand.

Sue's excitement was palpable in the car ride towards the school, only fueling Seth's embarrassment and your flattery. Your goodbye was rushed by Seth opening the car door for you and swiftly pulling you out and away from the vehicle.

The inside of the building was pretty much the same, except for some silver party streamers hanging down from the ceiling and a few other sparkly decorations. But that didn't matter, your night was complete with the mere fact of Seth being by your side. He too seemed content, actually, ecstatic seems like a more appropriate word.

"Wanna dance?" he grinned at you, pulling you towards the mostly empty dance floor. "I've got some serious moves."

"And who says I don't?” you challenged.

"Oh, I know you do," he teased, dancing happily. Seth's dancing wouldn't ever win him a spot on Broadway but it made you laugh. You matched his energy immediately, causing the both of you to lose your breath from laughing and dancing. It was so easy to like him, he made everyone around him more cheerful and comfortable. Seth was never afraid of taking the highroad if it meant helping others and that was visible even now.

Neither of you had noticed the circle of people that had begun cheering you on, everyone laughing and smiling as both of you pulled out new dance moves to bewilder the other. You and Seth couldn't stop laughing, even after the songs had started to slow down.

When Paul Anka's 'Put Your Head On My Shoulders' started playing, however, Seth's playful smile softened, extending a hand out to you. You took it happily, as he pulled you in closely, swaying you gently as he did. You placed your free hand on his shoulder and he placed his on your waist. This was the first contact you had both had that wasn't strictly friendly. Both of you felt the electricity run through your bodies as you came in contact with each other.

"Sparks fly," he whispered, reading your mind.

"I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone," you murmured, looking up at him.

"Neither did I."

You swayed in silence together, looking at each other's eyes as you did. You wished you could read all of the thoughts that were passing through his mind at that moment.

"Then again," he started slowly, "I've never felt more sure about something in my life, even if it's new to me."

"Most of the pack's reached this point too, though," he went on thoughtfully, "Paul, Quil, Jacob, even Sam."

"It was only a matter of time," you nudged him playfully, coaxing out another one of his beautiful smiles.

"Worth the wait," he replied simply, spinning you one last time.

As the last song began to fade out, you both came to the realization that the night you had both been looking forward to was reaching its finale. You were grateful that the last couple of songs had been slow, eager to be dancing again in the comfort of Seth's arms.

"Got everything?" he asked gently, scanning the area around you in case you had forgotten something.

"Yup," you said, holding up your heels and cardigan in your hand.

"Do you mind if we wait outside? The sky's clear enough to see the moon and th-"

"The stars," you interrupted suddenly, overcome by emotion at the knowledge that Seth did in fact love the stars as you'd once hoped.

"I just," you stammered, "Really like the stars." Seth nodded silently in agreement, leaving you space to elaborate if you wanted as you two stepped out into the cool night. The night's breeze sent a shiver down your spine as you pulled on your cardigan, thankful that you'd decided to grab it after all. But it was so peaceful in that cool, dark night with Seth.

"There are so many kinds of stars and lights in the sky," you began softly, "Our people have a legend about the Northern lights, the aurora borealis. We believed they were fires that spread along the Far North, passing over a dwarves' village that would boil the whales they caught into blubber."

Seth listened to you attentively, smiling at the story you told him. "My grandpa always said they were fire too," he smiled, "the whale thing is really yours though," he continued, stroking your back softly.

You laughed. "Whales are kind of a huge deal, back home," you reminded him.

"I love hearing about your home, your people. I know our ancestors would be proud of us today, even if we're from different tribes," he said tenderly.

"A real Washington Native love story," you teased, overwhelmed by the emotion in his words before.

"Sometimes though, I think the Hopi are onto something. Each little star being an ancestor who guides us," Seth said thoughtfully.

"I've thought that too," you agreed. There were so many ideas and interpretations about stars and exploring them with Seth only brightened your evening.

"You're unlike anyone I've ever met, Violet," he breathed, ducking his head slightly. You were thankful he couldn't pick up on your blush that was beginning to color your cheeks or your heart that was pounding excitedly in your chest.

"Neither have I," you responded, "Worth the wait."

Seth brought his gaze back up to you, smiling at your words. His brow furrowed slightly, as if you had just asked him a question.

"Can I kiss you?" he asked tentatively, searching your eyes for a response. Your lips curled into a smile at the innocence of Seth and you nodded softly.

Seth held your face in his hands before leaning in slowly, looking at you under the moonlight. Your own hands cupped his warm cheeks. Seth pressed his lips softly against yours, they were as warm as the rest of him. You were grateful for a little warmth his body emitted, as the night only continued to cool. His kisses were sweet and gentle against your lips, only causing you to swoon even more. He ran his fingertips slowly through your hair and your own hands mimicked his.

After the final kiss, Seth nuzzled his nose against yours before pulling away, still holding you close. You laid your head on his shoulder as you both gazed back up at the stars.

"How are you always so warm?" you wondered out loud.

Seth chuckled. "Oh, that's a long story for another day."

[woodsdyke]

favorite photos of 2023: mt tahoma x2 (mt rainier natl park), lake olallie, wallace falls, seattle, eunice lake (mt rainier natl park), hoh rainforest (olympic national park), indian peaks wilderness area (CO), mestaa'ehehe fire tower, (mt blue sky natl forest) (CO), and flattery point (neah bay). all washington state unless noted otherwise! saw some cool shit this year

[missingindigenouswomenandgirls]

Image Transcript:

Missing Person: Giovanna Tyler

March 28, 2004. Tacoma, Washington.

Aliases Used: “Jahnna.”

Date of Birth Used: February 27, 1975 (age 49)

Eyes: Brown.

Weight: 170 pounds.

Scars and Marks: Tyler has a multi-colored dragon tattoo on her left shoulder.

Hair: Brown

Height: 5’9”

Sex: Female

Reward: The FBI is offering a reward of up to $10,000 for information leading to the recovery of Giovanna Tyler and the conviction of those responsible for her disappearance.

Remarks: Tyler is an American Indian and Alaska Native. She is a Makah Tribal Member. Tyler has ties to Tacoma and Neah Bay, Washington.

Details: Giovanna Tyler disappeared from her home in the 2000 block of East Gregory St., Tacoma, Washington, under suspicious circumstances. She was 29 years old at the time and the mother of four children. Tyler was married, but had filed for an order of protection against her husband in August of 2003. In April of 2004, Tyler’s parents reported her missing after they had neither seen nor heard from her in approximately two weeks. She has not contacted her family since her disappearance and investigators have been unable to locate her or any persons who have had contact with her.

If you have any information concerning this person, please contact your local FBI office or the nearest American Embassy or Consulate. Field Office: Seattle

[eurydike-on-media]

Pickles!

He's an octopus called Pickles and will have been released back to Neah Bay in Washington by the time I return to the Seattle Aquarium.

At the Seattle Aquarium, they have an octopus on display for a few months, captured from nature and nurtured until they mature. Maturation is marked by increased activity, an indicator that the octopus is ready to reproduce and is looking for a mate. When they reach this active stage, they are released back to where they were captured where they may live out their natural life.

Pickles is a male Great Pacific Octopus, the largest species of octopus. They live three to five years but in that time can grow to be over ninety or even a hundred pounds. Pickles is guessed to be about sixty to sixty-five in these photos. Sexing an octopus is surprisingly simple, a male octopus will not have suckers on the tip of his third arm, whist a female octopus will.

I am sad to see Pickles go but happy to have been able to volunteer with him to educate and inspire aquarium visitors on all things Great Pacific Octopus. If you're ever in the area, I promise it's worth the visit, and maybe I'll get to say hi.

[whitepolaris]

Battlefield Oregon

Japan's attack on the U.S. Navy at Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, marked America's entry into World War II. Immediately after December 7, 1941, Americans were hot for revenge, and they got their first taste of it on April 8, 1942. The Doolittle Raid, named after its strategist and leader Lt. Col. James Doolittle, involved sixteen B-25 bombers striking military and industrial targets in several Japanese cities, including Tokyo. At the time, the offensive was considered to be of little tactical advantage; its main goal, which it achieved, was to boost American morale.

Planned as a one-way operation, the planes had been launched from an aircraft carrier 650 miles from the Japanese coast. (Lacking fuel capacity to return to the carrier, most of the planes were crashed-landed in China or Russia.)

The United States would later realize that the raid garnered some strategic significance, after all. The Japanese, surprised by the attack assumed that the United States had developed a new kind of long-range bomber. As a result, they reassigned many of their fighter planes to protect the home islands, limiting their air capabilities elsewhere.

Japanese leaders staged retaliatory strikes, without combat aircraft, on the American mainland-three of them in Oregon. They all became unlikely historical milestones.

The Shelling of Fort Stevens

Shortly after the Doolittle Raid, Japan sent two submarines to disrupt shipping along the western United States and Alaska. One of them, named I-25, torpedoed a freighter off Neah Bay, Washington, and then proceeded south. At about 11:30 p.m. on Sunday, June 12, 1942, the sub's commander, Meiji Tagami, ordered his crew to fire on Fort Stevens.

As the submarine's huge deck gun boomed, pandemonium broke out in the fort. Maj. Robert Huston, the senior officer in charge, realized that almost all of the incoming shells were landing harmlessly on the beach or in the surrounding marshland. Major Huston figured that even if the submarine were in range (which it was, but a hasty assessment suggested it wasn't), why shoot back and give the Japanese a better idea of where to aim? So he never gave the order to return fire.

In all, submarine I-25 fired at Fort Stevens seventeen times before departing in a westerly direction just before midnight. The most significant damage it did was nicking some phone cables that later rusted and had to be replaced. Shortly after, the sub suffered from a fatal case of mistaken identity (see "Aquatic Anomalies: The Tragedy of Tommy Turtle" in the Beaver State Beasts chapter). The short-lived attack on Fort Stevens was the only assault on a military base in the continental United States during World War II, the first since the War of 1812.

Firebombing the Klamath Mountains

Submarine I-25 returned to the Oregon coast later that year, on the foggy morning of September 9. The new Japanese tactic was to create a national emergency that would panic Americans and, hopefully, divert priorities and resources from the war. A massive forest fire might produce pandemonium, and the Klamath Mountains, in Oregon's southwestern corner, were chosen at the site.

A small seaplane was launched from the submarine. Pilot Nobuo Fujita flew about five miles inland toward Mount Emily and dropped an incendiary bomb on Wheeler Ridge. Howard Gardner, a local forest ranger, heard the explosion and noticed the plane, then filed a report at a ranger station. However, his report was dismissed, as it was common for military patrols to fly over the area.

When the fog lifted later that morning, Gardner and a coworker found a circle of smoldering forest about fifty to seventy-five feet wide, complete with fused earth, melted rock, and a crater measuring three feet in diameter in the center.

The Forest Service had thought the crater had been caused by a lightning strike until they noticed fragments of bomb casing and thermite pellets scattered around the embedded in surrounding trees. Even so, they reasoned that the bomb had to have accidentally dropped from an American plane. The military soon confirmed otherwise and tried in vain to suppress news reports of the incident. They needn't have worried: The first bombing of the continental United States by an enemy aircraft only strengthened America's-and Oregon's-resolve. The site of the bombing was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 2006.

The plot to start a massive fire never did succeed. Nobuo Fujita flew a second firebombing mission later that month. It failed too.

Balloon Bomb Tragedy at Gearhart Mountain

On May 5, 1945, Paster Archie Mitchell drove east of Bly with his wife, Elsie, and several children from his Sunday school class (ages eleven to fourteen), intent on fishing and picnicking near Gearhart Mountain. Elsie, who was five months pregnant, exited the car with the children and walked off into the woods while Paster Mitchell parked. Moments later, as Pastor Mitchell was walking up to meet them. Elsie called out, "Look what we found, dear!" Almost immediately, a gut-wrenching explosion killed her, their unborn child, and five youngsters in their charge. A stunned Pastor Mitchell drove back to Bly to report the incident.

What the unfortunate group had found was the latest-and weirdest-weapon in Japan's arsenal: the Fu-Go, or balloon bomb. Fu-Gos consisted of a large spherical balloon, about a hundred feet in diameter, made of impermeable mulberry paper and filled with hydrogen. Tethered beneath it were termite bombs and other high explosives.

The method of delivering innovative for the time. The Japanese did research in meteorology and were the first time to discover the jet stream, a series of fast-traveling easterly air currents about six to nine miles above Earth. The Fu-Gos traveled along the jet stream toward North America. A series of sandbags were used as ballast; an altimeter triggered electric charges that would drop them, two by two, if the Fu-Gos dropped below certain altitude. The intent was for the balloons to descend in North America, with bombs exploding as they hit the ground.

Fortunately, Fu-Gos were unreliable, as there was no way to guarantee where the bombs landed or that they would explode. Of about nine hundred Fu-Gos intended for the United States, only about a third of those have been accounted for; the rest were probably lost at sea.

The relative lack of public awareness of the balloon bombs is due to government efforts at playing down their treat. The news briefly covered the incidents, but the federal government quickly discouraged any further reports. They did not want Japan getting the impression that the Fu-Gos were in any way effective, especially since they could so easily be adapted to biowarfare. That bit strategic censorship worked, and Japan phased out its Fu-Go program.

The relative ineffectiveness of the Fu-Gos lends an especially sad and random tone to the deaths of Elsie Mitchell and the children. They were simply investigating an unfamiliar object and accidentally triggered the bomb. Curiosity made all the difference in what had essentially been a failed bid to spend terror. Today, a bronze plague on a stone marker at the site serves as a monument to the victims, the only people killed by enemy actions in the continental United States during World War II. It is located in the Mitchell Recreation Area, a small picnic ground adjacent to Leonard Creek.

[unpredictablestuff]

Not taking sides in an argument that has nothing to do with me, but I note the deep historical significance of this news. The Makah were not the only nation that hunted whales but they were one of the few (and the only one outside of Alaska) to get the right to do so included in a treaty with the US government.

That treaty allows them to fight for their right to hunt whales even in the face of an international ban (the legal question here is basically about treaty obligations the sovereign Makah Tribe and the United States have to each other).

This has deep historical significance because recent archaeological finds seem to have made the Pacific Coast migration model the only one that could have brought people south of Alaska in time for people to leave those traces.

Ancient people would have skirted the north Pacific Coast from northeast Asia, where the ice age glaciers began, to the Pacific Northwest of the United States, where they ended. Presumably they hunted marine mammals to survive along the way. The Makah live just north of the area where the glaciers ended.

The official Makah website: "The Makah Tribe has called the spectacular Neah Bay, Washington area home since time immemorial."

There is no way of knowing how many generations it took them. Genetic evidence suggests people in the Americas split from their Asian relatives about 30,000 years ago. Recent archaeological data indicates they arrived on this continent before 23,000 years ago, but they could have arrived thousands of years before that because archaeological finds that period are extremely scarce. They could have taken 7,000 years to travel around the coast or they could have taken a few generations.

Either way, it is possible or even likely that the ancestors of the Makah have been living on the coast of what is now Washington State and hunting whales to survive since the first people arrived on the continent.

Now that migration was not the end of the story and other people would have moved in and through the area, but in other areas of the world new arrivals mix with the people who are already present (and even other species of Homo). So even with population movements and possible language changes, the first people to set foot in North America outside of Alaska are most likely among the ancestors of the Makah nation. And hunting whales could very possibly go back to those original ancestors.

In other words, while further archaeological data could reveal other stories, it is currently reasonable to believe that this way of life in this specific region goes back to the first First Peoples of the Americas. Few people in the world can make a claim that ancient.

Time immemorial.

But what it means is that basically everyone with indigenous ancestry south of Canada and Alaska (and probably those areas as well) probably has distant ancient ancestors who lived near the Makah reservation and also hunted whales like the Makah still do.

Again, further discoveries could change the story, but this could well be how it all began, the ancient roots of people as diverse as the Cherokee, the Aztecs, the Incas and the Guaraní.

It's also notable that one of the other nations that still hunts whales is Japan, which except for the culturally European government of Russia is the most northern nation on the east Pacific coast, making it the independent nation that is closest to the beginning of the First People's journey.

And making Japan and the Makah tribe bookends to a way of life that could go back 30,000 years.

The reservation of the Quinault Indian Nation, on the coast south of the Makah Tribe, is closest to the place where glaciers ended during the ice age. They didn't get the right to hunt whales in their treaty with the US.

The Makah and Quinault languages are unrelated, by the way. The Makah language is related to languages of coastal people to the north, while the Quinault language is related to those of people to the south and further inland. So much time has passed that there is no way of knowing if they share some very distant origin, or which language has a longer history in the region if they don't.

Basically, we don't know if the two different language families they belong to are more related to each other or to other language families in the region than they are to any other language family in North America or northeast Asia.

The region is home to multiple unrelated language families. This degree of linguistic diversity is stereotypical of places with long-standing cultural continuity. So is the phonetic diversity and complexity of the languages in the area (they have a lot of consonants English speakers can't pronounce).

There is genetic evidence of multiple migrations from northeast Asia to North America as well as migrations in the other direction from North America to northeast Asia. Linguists have been aware of these cultural connections for many decades and there have always been some who enjoyed proposing superfamilies including languages in both regions. None of those proposals are widely accepted.

The lack of Native archaeologists gets in the way of culturally accurate narratives. Part of the problem is the low numbers of Native peoples in modern times. One imagines that another barrier is the conflicting standards of archaeologists and indigenous people for treating ancient sites and, especially, ancient human remains. But those differences have been litigated in US courts, conversations have been had and the two groups are more likely to cooperate now than at any time in the past.

A major legal battle involving northwest tribes, the US federal government and scientists over one ancient skeleton was eventually resolved in favor of the tribes. While the disagreements were not new, the battle seems to have been something of a turning point.

And cooperation between archaeologists and indigenous people means the rest of us have a clearer, more accurate picture of the distant past.

It might not be a coincidence that the conflict involved indigenous people in the Pacific Northwest, which may be a place where humanity's story is oldest as well as a place where Native isolation and independence is relatively recent. The coast mapped by European explorers in the late 18th century (after New Zealand and Hawaii). The Columbia River was not known to Europeans or white Americans until 1792 (the mouth of the river looks like a bay so explorers passed it for years before entering it).

Historical maps show Russian, Spanish, British and US claims to the region, but this is laughable when they most they had done was travel along the coast a few times. You might as well draw maps of the English Atlantic colonies stretching to the Pacific Ocean, since many did in theory.

Native tribes remained fully independent up to the mid-19th century after plague upon plague had swept through ancient but no longer isolated villages.

And that brings up a story that takes us back to where we began: the memory of the Makah tribe.

[I don't know if the words sovereign and independent are used the same way in other parts of the English-speaking world or if their equivalents in other European languages have any real difference, but in US usage the distinction is significant. Native nations are always referred to as sovereign states. The United States is referred to as either sovereign or independent.]

[orofeaiel]

Rugged Coastline | Cape Flattery, WA

[baylornonwovenstructures]

Coiling Inspiration

Please enjoy some inspiration for you of artworks that feature the coiling process. We will learn the coiling basics during class on Thursday. 

Images above, from top:

Katherine Mavridis, Mokuba, 2014.

Ferne Jacobs, Snow Circles, coiled and twined basket, 1999.

Judith Scott

Francoise Grossen, installation image from 2015 exhibition at Blum and Poe.

Doug Johnston, Big Backpack and Dino Hat, 2014.

image of Makah Basket Makers at Neah Bay, Washington from 1900.

[wyrmguardsecrets]

The pnw is only lbgt friendly in major cities like Portland or Seattle. You go to more rural areas like Forks or Joyce or Neah Bay, you're going back in time 20s years to the "good ole days" of homophobia and racism. I'm bisexual and if my family finds out my sexuality im in for a brutal time. Yes its beautiful here. But don't idolize the whole area off opinions formed by Seattle or Portland. Theres alot of hate crimes in Washington atm towards Jewish people lately. Especially in Spokane.

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[sexi-lou]

This is at Neah Bay in Washington, yeah?

[echoazure]

Worldwide, potatoes are eaten by more than a billion people and are among our most important food crops. They originated in the South American Andes, where the Inca first cultivated them 8,000 years ago. In the 16th century, Spanish explorers brought them to Europe, and over the next several centuries, farmers planted the adaptable tuber across the continent. As they selected out desired traits and introduced the potatoes to new climates, they developed hundreds of varieties that then spread across the globe, including back to the Americas.

That’s the story of most potatoes North Americans eat today, but it’s not the story of the Tlingit.

“These potatoes are really different,” says Putz, explaining that genetic testing shows that they are unrelated to European cultivars.

Instead, they are kin to varieties originating in Mexico or Chile, suggesting to some researchers that they arrived from Spanish colonies in California and Mexico or by way of European explorers traveling northward from South America. Historical research indicates that Spanish settlers planted potatoes in 1792 at a fort near Neah Bay in northwestern Washington, close to a Makah village that presumably adopted them after the fort was abandoned.

But Putz says the potatoes may have arrived via Indigenous trade routes that predated colonists. Tlingit oral histories support this idea, says Kanosh, as they indicate that the potatoes could have arrived thousands of years earlier, when people migrated northward along the coast to settle lands newly free of ice.