Tribal Journey by Gary Robinson Page B

and jumped into action.
    â€œHold on!” he commanded through the Sockeye’s loudspeaker.
    He punched the throttle at the same time he blasted the boat’s horn. The Sockeye tilted backward as the engines cranked to full speed. I hadn’t had time to grab anything to hold on to, so my wheelchair sped across the deck. I yelled again.
    Luckily I was able to grab the handrail that surrounded the deck. That kept me from rolling to the stern and overboard. I held on as tight as I could.
    Jessy saw what was happening and bolted across the deck to help me.
    Our support boat easily moved out of the path of the freighter. But the Raven, being towed behind, just barely missed being hit. A huge wave crashed over the canoe, flipping it upside down. Of course, our paddles and spare life jackets were scattered in all directions.
    Just as Jessy reached me on deck, the huge wave crashed into the side of the Sockeye. Our boat tipped sideways a little and then rolled back. The same wall of water hit Jessy and me full on. I had a firm grip on the handrail, but Jessy didn’t.
    The force of the water knocked him down and swept him toward the back of the boat. The stern had an opening in the handrail that allowed people to get on and off the deck. The water pushed him through that openingand into the ocean. Now Jessy was the one who needed help.
    I spotted the Lifesling hanging on its rack not too far from me. That gizmo had been used daily to get me into and out of the canoe. It was time to use it for what it was designed to do—save someone who’d gone overboard.
    The Sockeye was still rocking back and forth in the rough sea. But, wheeling my chair with an experienced hand, I was able to grab the Lifesling and head for the stern. We’d all learned how to use it. I first attached the rope to the crank. Then I flung the U-shaped loop out in the water toward Jessy.
    He was just pulling himself up out of the water and onto the top of the overturned canoe. The water was very choppy. The canoe wobbled furiously in the turbulence. But he was able to hang on. Our trainer had been right: the canoe would float, no matter what.
    â€œI’m all right,” he shouted over the noise of the rolling sea. “I don’t need the Lifesling.”
    The other pullers arrived at the stern to see what had happened to their beloved Raven.They watched as Jessy examined the bottom of the canoe.
    â€œI don’t see any cracks or breaks in the hull,” he shouted after a few minutes. “Who wants to help me flip it upright and gather up our paddles?”
    A couple of the adult pullers jumped into the cold water. Each grabbed a life jacket from the water and put it on. Jessy got hold of one and put it on as well.
    All three worked to turn the Raven over. Once the canoe was upright, they gathered up the scattered paddles and life jackets. Within a few minutes, all was back to normal. We used the Lifesling to get the three of them back on board the Sockeye.
    And that ordeal served as our welcome to Canada. The rest of the trip was a piece of cake, as they say. We made three more overnight stops at Canadian Native communities. They were just as welcoming and friendly as the tribes south of the border.
    But the closer we got to our final landing site, the more excited we all got. I heard fromJessy and others who’d been on journeys before that the feeling you get is bigger than Christmas, your birthday, and graduation from school all rolled into one. That’s big!

Chapter 12
Landing Day
    The night before Landing Day we stayed with the people of the Malahat First Nations. In Canada, tribes are often called First Nations. The Malahat Reserve was about ten miles, as the canoe travels, from Cowichan’s landing site.
    The Cowichan canoe officials had decided to have canoes come into their shores in groups. These groups were defined by the direction they’d come from. The Duwamish canoe was part of the southern