A summer of connection, adaptation, and learning on Haida Gwaii

by Marcela Faralhi Daolio

The birth of a relationship 

On the lands and waters of Haida Gwaii, we experience the interconnectedness of everything. Here, climate is not an isolated phenomenon, food is part of a complex and intelligent ecosystem, and humans are part of nature. For millennia, the Indigenous peoples of the coastal Pacific Northwest thrived, living with one foot in the forest and one on the shore, gathering the abundance of both and remaining an integral part of this ecosystem. 

In the summer of 2024, I had the privilege of experiencing this in Hlg̱aagilda (Skidegate), a Haida Nation village in Haida Gwaii. During my two months as a PICS-funded intern with the Skidegate Band Council, I participated in activities and experiences related to the community’s food system and climate impacts, which are closely interconnected.

Things are changing

Haida stories tell us that the Haida People were born from the ocean, and their survival has always been intertwined with the Haida Supernatural beings (spiritual entities of nature) and waters that flow through their lands and ocean. In the rivers, the diversity of salmon—chinook, chum, pink, coho, and sockeye—not only provided a reliable food source but also nurtured the surrounding forests. Salmon, after migrating from the ocean to spawn upstream, carry essential nutrients, like nitrogen, that feed the trees and sustain the ecosystem. But now, climate change is disrupting this delicate balance, affecting the rivers and threatening the salmon that are vital to both the ecosystem and the Haida People’s food security.

T’am Gandlaay (Mission Creek), an important cultural site for Hlg̱aagilda and a key habitat for the reproduction and growth of countless coho salmon, has felt the impacts of climate change for years. Drought has become more intense, water levels are dropping each year, making it impossible for the fish to swim upstream, which is further exacerbated by the abundance of invasive plants like knotweed, which take up what little water is present. With water levels so low, creek currents cannot form, depriving the fish of the oxygen they need to live and reproduce. As a result, the community has witnessed the death of many fish each year.

Climate change is also contributing to sea level rise, which erodes the shoreline—an important site for harvesting seafood like octopus and crab. Warmer waters are driving these species to deeper areas, making harvesting increasingly difficult each year.

In rare cases, climate change can offer new resources. At Skidegate Point, a well-known harvesting area for Haida people on the west coast of the Skidegate Inlet, new species are appearing near the shoreline due to warming waters. One of these is Albacore tuna, offering an exciting new fishing opportunity for the community. Tuna is now being incorporated into the Haida diet, and local leaders are working on initiatives like tuna workshops to provide knowledge and information about this new fishery, ensuring access to this emerging food source. The community is experiencing climate change firsthand and adapting their way of life. The Skidegate Band Council has made significant efforts in climate resilience and adaptation, establishing mentorship programs and traditional teachings for youth. Additionally, community leaders are ensuring the well-being of their community members by distributing food throughout the village year-round, providing for the elderly, youth, and hospitals, despite restricted access to harvesting areas.

The internship experience 

Climate change is exacerbating pre-existing colonial issues. Hlg̱aagilda’s adaptation to a changing climate is deeply rooted in their traditional knowledge, passed down since time immemorial. However, colonialism often portrays itself as a saviour, assuming that introducing Western-based knowledge could ‘fill the gaps’ in the lives of Indigenous Peoples. These communities coexist with these challenges and others—such as research fatigue, multiple disturbances, legal battles, and intergenerational trauma. Despite this, they remain open to outsiders and non-Indigenous people who are willing to learn and contribute. That is the essence of resilience.

During my internship, I supported various food programs in the village, which, by the end of the summer, I came to understand as forms of climate change adaptation. My work began with the Local Food 2 School Program, located at the Food Pantry, where I helped process traditional foods for distribution to schools and hospitals. 

There is no way to fully study, work, or talk about a place without experiencing it firsthand. That’s why, as part of my weekly activities, I was also asked to go out fishing, allowing me to familiarize myself with the West Coast and shoreline—places directly affected by climate change.

Summer was also a crucial time for the T’am Gandlaay (Mission Creek) drought-response project, carried out before salmon spawning in the fall. These activities were supported by the Department of Fisheries and Oceans (DFO), Hlg̱aagilda workers, and volunteers, with funding from the Salmon Resilience Fund and by PICS (through my internship). Our work involved deepening pools and redirecting water flow to create deeper resting spots for the salmon as they traveled upstream. A shade structure was also constructed to help regulate water temperature, which is vital for salmon survival and reproduction. 

When these short-term adaptation measures weren’t enough due to the extreme drought, we began manually relocating fish upstream to areas with higher, flowing, and colder water. In total, we moved nearly 100 smolts (second-year fish) and fry (first-year fish) upriver to give them a better chance of survival. By the time I returned home, the pools in the downstream section of Mission Creek were completely dry. The community continues to pray for rain, and I do too.

This internship has been vital for the data collection of my own master’s research, conducted with the Skidegate Band Council, where we address cumulative impacts, including climate change, on people’s access to seafood and the ways the community has adapted to those changes.

I am part of the whole 

The emotional aspect of this internship couldn’t be ignored—on the land, everything is connected, including you. I was there to complete my project, but an important part of my experience was creating relationships and trust, learning the language and forming a meaningful connection with the community.

However, uncomfortable realizations, conversations and experiences were also part of the teaching and learning process. After years of reading and studying about environmental issues through articles and classes, it was difficult to face the reality that the lands and waters are struggling. Two months in the community taught me far more than I could have imagined, and it made me realize that many students and academics, myself included, have not truly experienced the impacts of climate change and shifts in land and ocean use. Nor have most of us had to personally confront both the possibilities and struggles of adapting to these changes. I felt powerless, uncomfortable—unable to control anything except doing my best to support the community in the short time I had there.

Coming from Brazil, I understand how climate change can affect us in different ways. The southern region of Brazil is currently facing devastating flooding, half the country is routinely on fire, Amazon rivers are drying up, and both people and animals are suffering due to heat waves. Climate action has always been part of my life as a Brazilian biologist, but I’ve never felt as connected to a place as Indigenous communities are to their lands. I’ve never seen so clearly how climate change can impact a community’s food security and well-being.

Moving forward, takeaways and hope

Since this project partners with organizations such as the First Nations Health Authority (FNHA), and research teams like the Climate Change and Food Security for First Nations (CCFS4N), it can serve as a model for community-based adaptation workshops for other coastal communities in B.C.

At the university level, this project can inspire internships and co-op programs that partner directly with Indigenous organizations, band councils, or community organizations. These partnerships can facilitate on-the-ground work and short-term actions to address rapid climate change. Furthermore, there is a clear and ongoing need for Indigenous-led organizations, such as the First Nations Health Authority, as well as environmental and conservation organizations to continue working directly with communities. Collaborations with PICS and other funding agencies are essential for supporting internships like this. The fight against the colonial systems that hinder access to funding and other forms of adaptation must continue—and it will.

As a young biologist and master’s student with many ideas and aspirations, I hope to continue sharing the lessons I’ve learned from the community with the world, making a difference while focusing on local and regional opportunities. I will always remain accountable to the relationships I’ve built within the community, and their climate resilience will continually inspire my work, whether here or anywhere else in the world.

Haawa to Michelle McDonald of the Skidegate Band Councill, to Gerald Singh and Tiff-Annie Kenny, my master’s supervisors that supported me to be accepted to this scholarship and a big Haawa to April Churchill, my friend and nanny who brought everything together during my stay in Hlg̱aagilda.