Brian Lee
Like many, I’m fascinated by what life here must have been like before Europeans. But much of the surface evidence was gone by the time I hunted for arrowheads on my grandparents’ beach. So, there’s no clear picture of what life was like in, say, Gerrans Bay 300 years ago and part of the reason for it is that scientific knowledge about Pender Harbour and Egmont’s archaeological record isn’t made public.
Much of what we know comes from what has been unearthed (and destroyed) during construction efforts. In Raincoast Chronicles 17, Howard White wrote:
"I once had a job installing a sewer system on the Sallahus reserve at Canoe Pass and found myself digging down in ancient fire ash and clamshell deposits to a depth of six feet, encountering more than a few human bones along the way.
"There was another large deposit of bone-laden midden soil at Irvines Landing ... and sizable ones at Gerrans Bay and on the fertile mudflats at the head of Oyster Bay."
Ironically, this might be the best public record of archaeological sites in Pender Harbour. There is a secret map that shows where they are but only the province, the SCRD and the band are privy to it because it’s feared people will pillage them and, given our record so far, it’s a legitimate concern.
But it poses a problem to landowners because our "provincial heritage inventory" isn’t tied to land title. That means those who purchase a property aren’t notified if it contains an archaeological site. The province’s "developer pays" policy means costs for remediation or assessment are borne by the owner.
And, though we don’t know where these sites are, we know they’re everywhere. A recent interest in archaeological study ensures that list will continue to grow as new sites are found.
I wrote a story this month (see p. 5) about a Gunboat Bay property owner whose land was clearly inhabited long before he bought it in 1980. He admits there’s a midden on the foreshore but cried foul when told his upland building site must be inspected because it’s on the secret map. Like many, he (mis)understood that he needed to notify authorities only when he finds archaeological evidence during construction.
That is the law — unless your property shows up on the secret map. Then you need an archaeological consult each time you disturb the ground. But you won’t know this until you apply for a building permit.
People here are looking to mend the relationship with the Shíshálh Nation over the 14-year dock conflict. There’s renewed hope that the area might find a genuine relationship with its rich pre-contact past. That must begin with trust.
Many know the whereabouts of local petroglyphs but because they also recognize their value, as far as I know, none are defaced. I hope one day the Shíshálh Nation will share their discoveries, and in turn, trust the residents of Pender and Egmont to protect them. A fisheries manager once told me he preferred people to live and play near lakes and streams because it was his experience that when they did, they protected it.
If we don’t know something exists, or are not told what it is, how can we ensure we aren’t destroying it? And how can we value it?