For almost forty years, this pole stood near Horseshoe Bay.
[PHOTO — William Jeffrey's History of the Tsimshian pole standing at Horseshoe Bay, date unknown]
Carved in 1975 by Tsimshian carver Smooygit La’as (Chief William George Jeffrey, 1899–1995) of Lax Kw'alaams and the Gitwilgyots, it was a personal project, supported by his son Rupert and his family, depicting the early history of the Tsimshian people of the Northwest Coast.
Today, if you go looking for it, you need to look down.
The pole hasn't fallen.
It was laid down.
In 2014, after standing for nearly four decades, the pole was deliberately lowered. The interpretive sign beside it explains that this was done:
“to return to the earth, to respect the life of the cedar tree, and to show the cycle of life and renewal.”
That sentence changes the way, we look at this pole .
The cracking cedar, fading paint and moss aren't simply evidence of an old pole being neglected. A living cedar became a monumental pole; the pole stood and told its story; and now the cedar is gradually returning to the earth.
[PHOTO — Detail of carving, moss, remaining paint and weathering]
And yet, the pole is still very much worth seeking out.
Lying horizontally gives us an unusual opportunity to walk alongside Jeffrey's carving and examine it at close range. It is also a chance to see a stage in the life of a monumental pole that we don't often think about.
Please don't sit on the pole
[PHOTO — Interpretive sign / visitors beside the resting pole]
There is a conspicuous request beside it:
PLEASE DO NOT SIT ON THE TOTEM POLE.
Yet during a recent visit, people were doing exactly that.
I don't necessarily think that reflects deliberate disrespect. Once a monumental pole is no longer standing, someone who doesn't know its story {or read the sign} may see an old log or convenient bench rather than a culturally significant work deliberately being allowed to return to the earth.
That raises an interesting question: if laying a pole down is itself meaningful, how do we help visitors understand what they are witnessing?
That was my first lesson from this fallen giant.
But Horseshoe Bay had another lesson waiting for me.
The bear that went home
[PHOTO — Tony Hunt Sr.'s Bear Pole standing at the Horseshoe Bay ferry terminal]
For more than half a century, another pole watched travellers come and go at the BC Ferries terminal.
The approximately 13-foot Western redcedar Bear Pole was carved in 1966 by Tony Hunt Sr., then only about 24 years old. BC Ferries commissioned it as part of a series of poles installed at its properties for Canada's 1967 Centennial.
Hunt was the son of carver Henry Hunt and trained under his maternal grandfather, Mungo Martin. His Horseshoe Bay pole depicts a bear and a chief wearing a hat or helmet.
By 2022, rot and wear had raised concerns about its stability.
What happened next is what makes this story special.
BC Ferries asked the Hunt family what they wanted to happen to it.
The family wanted Tony's pole home.
In August 2023, after months of planning, the pole was carefully lowered and transported back to Fort Rupert on northern Vancouver Island. Tony's brother, carver Stanley Clifford Hunt (Kwakwabalsome), advised BC Ferries on how it should be handled — including that it should not touch the ground or even a tree while suspended.
Stanley planned to restore his brother's pole and eventually raise it again in the graveyard beside the place where Tony rests.
After 57 years at Horseshoe Bay, the bear went home.
[EMBED — Global News: BC Ferries returns Horseshoe Bay totem pole to carver's family]
[LINK / CALLOUT — BC Ferries: Famed Indigenous Carver's 57-year-old Totem Returns Home to His Family]
Two old poles. Two different futures.
This is where my visit to Horseshoe Bay became a lesson.
Two monumental poles had reached the point where they could no longer simply remain standing.
William Jeffrey's pole was laid down and allowed to return to the earth.
Tony Hunt's pole was returned to the carver's family, to be restored and raised again.
Neither story tells us what should happen to every aging pole.
Together, they tell us something more important: there isn't one answer.
The future of a pole depends upon the pole, its history, the people and community connected to it, and the cultural protocols surrounding it.
And Horseshoe Bay isn't the only place I've encountered a fallen giant.
Another fallen giant
[PHOTO — Sechelt resting pole]
Closer to home in Sechelt is another pole quietly returning to the earth.
[SECHELT STORY TO BE ADDED]
Seeing it differently after what I learned at Horseshoe Bay may ultimately be the most important part of this Field Note.
A standing pole commands our attention. We look up. We photograph it. We wonder who carved it and what its figures mean.
A pole lying quietly beneath the trees is much easier to walk past.
I'm learning not to do that.
Don't assume that a fallen pole has been forgotten.
Find out why it is there. Find out who carved it and whose stories it carries. Find out whether it fell, was lowered, went home — or was deliberately laid down to complete its journey back into the earth.
And when you're out looking for totem poles, don't only seek out those still standing.
Seek out the fallen giants too.
They may have another story to tell.
I've checked the two links. The Hunt details above track closely with BC Ferries' September 2023 account: the pole was commissioned in 1966, deterioration prompted the process, the Hunt family enthusiastically accepted its return, Stanley Hunt provided the handling protocols, and the plan was restoration followed by raising it beside Tony Hunt's resting place. (bcferries.com) The Global News piece is a short 39-second video from September 27, 2023, so it should work particularly well as an embedded visual break immediately after “the bear went home.” (globalnews.ca)
I think we're also getting closer to the eventual subtitle, but I'd still wait for the Sechelt story before choosing it.
GPS Coordinates
Description
{undated image of pole }