HENRY ISLAND

 

An hour from Seattle the ferry entered a maze of densely forested islands that soon blocked out the horizon.  The islands made for nice scenery but you couldn't avoid feeling disoriented while weaving among them.  When the ferry started out across open water, we had our destination British Columbia as a distant flat strip in front of us and a familiar cityscape to our back.  Now that we were meandering around and about these islands, the direction where we were headed or where we'd come from was anybody's guess.  In addition to there being no landmarks, there was no way to distinguish between the islands themselves.  

We did pass by one island that stood out from the rest.  It was made up of two parallel long narrow islands, both similar in height and dense woods as the rest of the islands.  However, these two were joined at the hip by an isthmus - a flat, barren, low-level land bridge.  It ended up looking like a very large and clumsy capital letter H.  

I said to the woman seated across from me, "That island's different."

She replied, "You'd be surprised how different it is."

When I first sat down after boarding the ferry, we had exchanged hellos but nothing more until now.  

I said, "Is there any follow up to that comment?"

She said, "Just a long sad story."

I asked, "Since we appear to be lost at sea, could you let me in on it?"

She began, "That's Henry Island.  It's part of a group of 170 or so, called the San Juan Islands."

I said, "As in 'H' is for Henry?"

She said, "That's possible.  The island was named by the leader of a 1841 expedition for his young nephew Henry who died in Fiji the year before the expedition arrived here."

I said, "Sad yes but not really long"

She said, "That's not the story."

The story turned out to be about Cullen Magnuson who inherited a fortune when his grandfather (inventor of the Coleman Lantern) passed away.  The news of his grandfather's death reached Cullen on a collective farming operation in eastern Washington State.  He'd been excited to join when he first moved in but had grown disenchanted due to what he considered a lack of innovation.  Cullen found the operation uninspired with no interest in moving beyond growing and selling produce. 

With the inheritance from his grandfather, Cullen found himself with the financial resources to create an enterprise more to his liking.  He envisioned a self-sustained, off-grid community serving as a live-in laboratory dedicated to developing technological advances to address humanity's needs in areas such as renewable energy, water management, affordable housing and food production.  He placed announcements in a range of publications and formed a small launch team that included scientists, tradesmen, engineers and architects.  The first task was site selection and the unique topography of Henry Island along with its remote location made it the top choice.

The sale of the island went smoothly but the legal process to evict a handful of squatters caused a delay and generated its share of bad press.  The squatters were descendents of Coastal Salish People that European settlers encountered on their arrival in the late 1700s.  Colonialism and executive orders had effectively relocated nearly all of the surviving indigenous population from the San Juan Islands to the Flathead Indian Reservation in western Montana.  Removal of the group proved to be seriously unpopular and had the local press seeing blood in the water.  Cullen and the launch team's attempts to demonstrate compassion fell on deaf ears given the native group's advanced ages and declining health.  

I asked the woman, "Why couldn't they just let them stay put?"

She said, "I don't remember any reasons being offered, I'm sure it was complicated."

I said, "How long did it take for all of this to play out?"

She said, "There was a good year of politician photo ops and public demonstrations.  In truth, although it may have been perfectly legal, uprooting these people clearly destroyed their lives."

I said,  "How had the indians managed to make a go of it all these years on Henry Island?"

She said, "All they could eat fish, oysters and shrimp coupled with foraging provided ample food.  Although there's no water source on the island, there was more than enough rainwater collected in cisterns."

I said, "How long did it take for Cullen's venture to get back up to speed?"

She said, "The initial construction went at a snail's pace.  Cullen's architectural brain trust introduced so many nontraditional construction methods and materials, a hotly contested battle ensued with the county's building and safety officials.  Added to that were environmental hurdles produced by the neighboring national wildlife refuge and other state and county ordinances protecting endangered species."

I said, "Certainly Cullen's team knew all this when they picked the island to begin with."

She said, "True, but forcing the natives off the island had not made them any friends." 

She went on to describe the eventual forming of a community on the island that included the families of the assembled scientific and technical staff.  Living and working on the island proved to be an idyllic experience for residents of all ages.  The project's controversial beginning finally began to be replaced by what appeared to be a bright future.  Yet the goal of developing technological advancements was taking a back seat as reaching sustainability was presenting a challenge that demanded more attention and resources than expected.

I asked, "What did they miss?"

She said, "Moving out the natives eliminated a source of local knowledge built over several centuries.  Cullen's group was an impressive set of individuals but none had the needed intimate knowledge of Henry Island's microclimate and the effects each season has on tides, plants and animals."

I said, "Don't tell me they brought back the Indians."

She said, "They did.  After some hesitation they cautiously approached the former island residents.  Many years had passed and of those that were still alive, one elderly female did agree to share what her ancestors and a full life on the island had taught her.  She made it clear she hadn't forgiven what she felt was an injustice and the reason she was willing to go along with the arrangement was being able to spend her final years back on the island." 

I asked, "And was she helpful?"

She said, "Quite a bit, right from the start there were lots of tips including many uses for a specific type of seaweed and  relocating the sewage treatment process to a reed bed on the isthmus.  She knew lots of little things that made a real difference with every passing month.  Cullen's staff studied the methods she prescribed and were able to determine the chemistry behind the woman's secrets.  She didn't know, nor did she care why her little tricks worked, they just did."

I said, "Things were looking up."

She said, "Yes, but it all went south in a hurry."

She explained that from the very beginning the old woman had been surly and standoffish.  Extracting information from her was a challenge and even the smallest bits she revealed were done so begrudgingly.  Despite the nasty attitude, the community, adults and children alike, quite took to her as people sometimes do with a curmudgeon.  Late one summer, several of Cullen's staff floated the idea of finding a way to show everyone's appreciation for the woman's contributions to the project.  Plans were made for labor day, bringing together everyone to celebrate the progress that had been made.  When the old woman was made aware that the festivities were to be held in her honor she broke into tears, overcome with guilt for the all-consuming hatred she'd held onto all these years.  The following day the woman approached the event planners and tearfully asked that she be permitted to help prepare the meal at the festival.  Her request was quickly granted by all - sensing the woman saw this as a means of penance.    

I asked, "I thought you said things went south."

She said, "Gimme a minute, I'm getting to that.  The day before labor day, she asked for a boat and two men to go out and catch a few turtles with her.  Her people considered turtle meat a delicacy and serving it on the day of the festival was one way she could ease her guilt."

I said, "Wait, how are a couple of turtles gonna feed an entire community?"  

She said, "Not the ones your kids take home from the county fair.  I'm talking about sea turtles that can weigh up to a thousand pounds and spend years crisscrossing the Pacific ocean traveling from Japan to the Americas and back.

I said, "I don't suppose Martha Stewart has a recipe for this."

She said, "Nobody does, nearly all sea turtles are considered an endangered species - you can look but don't touch."

I said, "So what was the back up plan?"

She said, "You're missing the point. The old lady hadn't any idea that there were things that you weren't supposed to kill and eat and the planners couldn't bring themselves to tell her that. Besides, it was just this one time and a special occasion at that. Nobody wanted to see the old woman revert back to her hateful behavior."

I asked, "This may sound like I'm beginning to entertain a few doubts about this tale, but how is it that you know and remember so many details about this island's history?"

She said, "As it happens, after that labor day I spent quite a bit of time on Henry Island."

I said, "Clean up crew?"

She said, "At the time I was working for the county coroner's office."

I said, "What the hell happened?"

She said, "Towards evening on the day of the celebration, most everyone experienced some form of gastrointestinal distress in the form of abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea. The next day brought neurologic symptoms including confusion, seizures, paralysis, coma; and in the days that followed, countless deaths."

I said, "The old lady poisoned them?"

She said, "The cause was Chelonitoxism - a food poisoning that has been associated with marine turtles ingesting toxic algae. The contaminated turtles appear healthy and do not show signs of illness. There's no way she could have known they were toxic."

I said, "Maybe, maybe not. How much turtle did she have?"