Indigenous Sea Gardens

“When I savour a piece of smoked salmon, it’s like a hug and a kiss from the ancestors.” –Nicole Norris
By / Photography By & | May 26, 2022
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Many of us know what it feels like to taste something and seemingly be transported to another time—a childhood moment, a joyful day, an occasion of bravery or sadness.

For some, certain foods have the power to transport the taster through millennia, connecting them to ancestors who ate the very same thing, from the very same place, for thousands of years. 

Sea gardens (sometimes known as clam gardens) are an ancient Indigenous form of aquaculture that were used to cultivate biodiversity and manage rich food systems for communities. According to carbon dating, they have existed for at least 3,500 years. They’re found along the coast from Alaska to Washington, with many on Vancouver Island. 

With the onset of colonization and the violent displacement of Indigenous peoples by the Canadian state, Indigenous peoples were removed from much of their land and traditional management practices, which included sea gardens. As a result, many of these gardens weren’t tended to for over 100 years. 

Today, Vancouver Island researchers, Nations, and Indigenous knowledge holders are asking what it will take to restore local sea gardens back to their former bounty—because there is a lot at stake. 

“When the tide is out, the table is set”

While each sea garden was incredibly unique, they were all constructed based on a deep understanding of the sea and the surrounding environment, says Nicole Norris, a knowledge holder for the Hul’q’umi’num Nation and an aquaculture specialist.

“For us, grand curiosity enables observation,” she says. “We watch the water and pay attention to the wind. We see all the little animals that come to the shore.”

An important source of food, these sea gardens played an essential role in communities. Massive feasts filled with different bivalve species, sea grasses and more would often surround them. Today, studies show maintained sea gardens are 150–300% more productive than beaches without gardens. 

“The Elders say, ‘When the tide is out, the table is set,’” Norris says. “Even today, you’ll hear people from my generation who’ll say, ‘we’re going grocery shopping tonight.’” 

Restoring and studying sea gardens also helps answer some of the deepest questions humans can ask, such as, “where do we come from?” By restoring the gardens, sharing knowledge and fostering connections to traditional foods, Indigenous peoples can nurture links to countless generations that came before them. 

“When I savour a piece of smoked salmon, it’s like a hug and a kiss from the ancestors,” Norris says. “To know where you descend from, to be able to walk in their footprints is a birthright. Not a privilege that’s been awarded by the federal government. A birthright.”

Challenges facing the sea gardens

But sea gardens are up against some challenging issues, says Beangka Elliott, Partnering and Engagement Coordinator for Parks Canada’s Sea Gardens Restoration Project on Vancouver Island. 

Elliott grew up in Tsartlip First Nation eating local butter and little neck clams almost every Saturday morning. She’d be sitting at the breakfast table with her family, and someone would come to the door selling clams they had dug themselves, which they’d enjoy steamed with a little pepper. 

But it's been a long time since she’s done that. And it’s been three years since she and her children have been able to eat clams at the beach due to availability. “If we don’t have access to these foods, we lose the stories and history, so many things in addition to a food species,” Elliott says. 

With the introduction of Western foods and the displacement of Indigenous peoples, the connection to local seafoods has been fractured. In addition, climate change causes more biotoxin blooms, storms and upland flooding, which all impact the species that thrive in sea gardens. 

“Something I’m realizing through this project is that we’re living in a very different world with climate change,” says Elliott. “There is a serious urgency to do more to conserve these places. And at the rate we’re moving, I don’t know if it’s fast enough.”

Keeping the connection alive 

As part of the effort to preserve Indigenous culture, the Sea Gardens Restoration Project participates in a variety of community engagement and school-based programs. They occasionally run community restoration days, where everyone learns about the sea gardens and enjoys traditional foods, language and cultural activities on-site. The project also works with several partner Nations to include them in the sea garden monitoring efforts, including the Ts'uubaa-asatx, Halalt, Lyackson, Penelakut, Cowichan Tribes, Stz’uminus, Tsartlip, Pauquachin, Tseycum and Tsawout First Nations.

Elliott says she hopes for a future where her two sons will regularly enjoy beach-harvested clams and other traditional foods. She recalls one community event she attended with her sons, where they were practically fighting over the local clams because they loved them so much. “It’s just a core memory for me,” she laughs. “You know, if my kid’s biggest problem is fighting over clams with his brother because he loves them, then we’re in a good place.”

As for Norris, she says she hopes to gain and maintain access to all the sea gardens within her traditional territory so they can be restored to their former bounty and provide nourishment for generations. “I’m hoping we will revive those stocks so we can harvest and eat from the sea as we once did,” she says. 

Lessons moving forward

Moving towards these goals is a collaborative effort. It benefits us all, says Erich Kelch, who is manager of the Sea Garden Restoration Project and of European descent. He says one thing that’s important to him about this work is realigning Western society’s relationship to food and place, which is often greatly disassociated. “As a result, we care more about these places and have an interest in preserving them and making sure they’re healthy,” Kelch says.  

“You wouldn’t just walk into somebody’s grandma’s house and start messing around in the kitchen,” Norris says. “Be mindful, be respectful. It’s a cultural fabric of everyone that has come before us that ties us to these gardens.”

Clearly, all these issues are larger than any one person, but we all have an impact, Norris says. Whether you’re grocery shopping, visiting one of the Island’s many gorgeous beaches or actually finding yourself at a sea garden, consider taking a moment to reflect on the bigger picture and how the ecosystem plays a role in food security, culture and society as a whole.