Iâm just scales. Residential weird dragon, listener of music, chronic gamer, etcetera. Hopped on over here as a safety net in case Twitter went under, but Iâve been meaning to make this page for a while now, so⌠hey. New horizons doesnât hurt.
I have NO idea what to post on this page seeing as Iâm by no means a visual artist, but depending on how this goes, I might end up sharing some content Iâm creating, or thisâll just be a blog sharing my thoughts about stuff. I dunno.
Whatever this site holds, I look forward to seeing what Tumblr offers. Anyways, stream Darklife.
One of the worst parts of current internet culture is that it makes good old fashioned complaining so difficult. I donât wanna cancel anyone or bully anyone, Iâm not trying to form a hate mob Iâm not calling anyone out, i just wanna bitch about something. Because complaining is fun, good for you, even. Is that too much to ask? Where is the room for shooting the shit?
For 20 years, indigenous people of the Kitasoo/Xaiâxais saw their coastal waters being depleted while the Canadian state dithered. Now theyâ
For years, the people of the Kitasoo/Xaiâxais First Nation watched over their waters and waited. They had spent nearly two decades working with Canadaâs federal government to negotiate protections for Kitasu Bay, an area off the coast of British Columbia that was vulnerable to overfishing.
But the discussions never seemed to go anywhere. First, they broke down over pushback from the fishing industry, then over a planned oil tanker route directly through Kitasoo/Xaiâxais waters.
âWe were getting really frustrated with the federal government. They kept jumping onboard and then pulling out,â says Douglas Neasloss, the chief councillor and resource stewardship director of the Kitasoo/Xaiâxais First Nation. âMeanwhile, weâd been involved in marine planning for 20 years â and we still had no protected areas.â
Instead, the nation watched as commercial overfishing decimated the fish populations its people had relied on for thousands of years.
Nestled on the west coast of Swindle Island, approximately 500km north of Vancouver, Kitasu Bay is home to a rich array of marine life: urchins and abalone populate the intertidal pools, salmon swim in the streams and halibut take shelter in the deep waters. In March, herring return to spawn in the eelgrass meadows and kelp forests, nourishing humpback whales, eagles, wolves and bears.
âKitasu Bay is the most important area for the community â thatâs where we get all of our food,â Neasloss says. âItâs one of the last areas where you still get a decent spawn of herring.â
So in December 2021, when the Department of Fisheries and Oceans withdrew from discussions once again, the nation decided to act. âMy community basically said, âWeâre tired of waiting. Letâs take it upon ourselves to do something about it,ââ Neasloss says.
What they did was unilaterally declare the creation of a new marine protected area (MPA). In June 2022, the nation set aside 33.5 sq km near Laredo Sound as the new Gitdisdzu Lugyeks (Kitasu Bay) MPA â closing the waters of the bay to commercial and sport fishing.
It is a largely unprecedented move. While other marine protected areas in Canada fall under the protection of the federal government through the Oceans Act, Kitasu Bay is the first to be declared under Indigenous law, under the jurisdiction and authority of the Kitasoo/Xaiâxais First Nation.
Pictured: "In some ways, I hope someone challenges us" ⌠the Kitasoo/Xaiâxais stewardship authority.
Although they did not wait for government approval, the Kitasoo did consult extensively: the declaration was accompanied by a draft management plan, finalised in October after three months of consultation with industry and community stakeholders. But the government did not provide feedback during that period, according to Neasloss, beyond an acknowledgment that it had received the plan...
Approximately 95% of British Columbia is unceded: most First Nations in the province of British Columbia never signed treaties giving up ownership of their lands and waters to the crown. This puts them in a unique position to assert their rights and title, according to Neasloss, who hopes other First Nations will be inspired to take a similarly proactive approach to conservation...
Collaboration remains the goal, and Neasloss points to a landmark agreement between the Haida nation and the government in 1988 to partner in conserving the Gwaii Haanas archipelago, despite both parties asserting their sovereignty over it. A similar deal was made in 2010 for the regionâs 3,400 sq km Gwaii Haanas national marine conservation area.
âThey found a way to work together, which is pretty exciting,â says Neasloss. âAnd I think there may be more Indigenous protected areas that are overlaid with something else.â
