by Dan Farley
U Oregon graduate student
This research blog is both a response and homage to Mackie (2014), who made the following statement that was both entertaining and cause for concern:
“Herring are taking Northwest Coast archaeology by storm. A series of key insights and publications has pulled these little fish into the heart of our reconstructions of subsistence across the entire coast, and into its deepest history. It’s an interesting development which highlights once again how prone archaeologists can be to a myopic faith in our received models: salmon and cedar speak the loudest and it turns out we needed an aid in hearing the herring.”
I am not an archaeologist, but I am certainly interested in Northwest Coast archaeology. My background is in education, with an emphasis on quantitative methods. The contrast between the experimental methods that I study and my limited understanding of archaeological methods is extreme. At the risk of offending the entire archaeology field, I will venture forth a few tidbits of what I have learned.
Archaeologists are faced with an incomplete record that cannot speak for itself. You rely on each other to tell a story over time, a story that can change at any momemt based on a new discovery. As Moss noted, “Our understandings of the past are always partial, incomplete, and open for reevaluation” (2011:23). Archaeology is limited to both incomplete artifact records and must establish theory over time, which may leave it more susceptible than other sciences to over-committing to the historical patterns observed by predecessors. The danger in over-committing to convention in archaeology is two-fold. FIRST, the pattern will be extended into contexts in which it does not fit, and, SECOND, focus on the pattern will obscure the presence of exceptions. In short, you don’t find what you’re not looking for. These two pitfalls are seen on the Northwest Coast surrounding the hunter-gatherer mythology, salmon as the meaning of life, and redcedar as the ultimate wood/fiber resource.
Fisher-Cultivator-Hunter-Gatherer Northwest Coast societies were fishermen, first and foremost, but I’ll address this in a bit. Let’s look at how they grew and managed food (yes, grew food). Food procurement practices were incredibly diverse, involving expansion of habitat, soil improvement, and removal of undesirable weeds (Deur 2005; Smith 2011). Pacific silverweed (Indian sweet potato), springbank clover, northern riceroot lily, Nootka lupine, and tobacco were cultivated (Deur 2005; Moss, 2011; Smith 2011; Turner & Kuhnlein 1982). Salmonberry and Pacific crabapple may have been cultivated, as well (Hebda, et al. 2005). People mounded soil downslope in order to expand the band in which edible root crops could grow, constructed rock and wood walls for reinforcement, and turned the soil over to encourage the growth of greater numbers of larger, longer, and straighter root crops (Smith 2011). Seaweed was also harvested as a food (Turner 2003). Hmm…sounds like farmers to me.
Clam Ranchers Not only did they plant and cultivate, they developed optimal environments for harvesting clams. Clam gardens, which I prefer to call clam corrals in keeping with my ranching title, were constructed by building walls of stones just above the lowest tide. As tides came in and out of the area, sediment back-filled the garden zone. This provided an optimal environment for clam development and harvesting (Groesbeck et al. 2014; Lepofsky & Caldwell 2013; Moss 2011; Smith 2011). The figure below shows the design features of a clam corral, used to increase clam habitat (http://clamgarden.com/clamgardens/constructing-clam-gardens/).
The flattening of the slope of clam corrals increased clam production; butter and littleneck clam production quadrupled and doubled, respectively, when compared to unimproved clamming locations, and clams grew at a rate 1.7 times faster in the clam gardens (Groesbeck, et al. 2014). These are statistics that would make a Texan rancher drool. How about clam ranchers, to boot?
Fishermen Northwest Coast societies peoples used various methods to catch fish, including nets, hooks, and fishing weirs and traps. I find fishing weirs to be the most interesting, as they required wide and intimate knowledge and great effort to use and maintain. Fishing weirs were constructed from both wood and stone in multiple designs, including walls, fences, heart-shaped, chevron-shaped, and stake complexes (Caldwell 2011). Weirs are generally defined in three categories: (a) flowing stream, (b) tidal, and (c) longshore (Smith 2011). Though generally considered to involve large group organization, annual maintenance, short-term and intensive harvest, and processing for long-term storage, different weirs were used for diverse purposes; in Oregon, riverine weirs were typically used seasonally, tidal weirs were used throughout the year to harvest a diversity of fish, including herring, sardine, smelt, and… wait for it… salmon (Bryam 2002).
The oldest fishing weir on the Northwest Coast was found on Mitkof Island near Petersburg, AK, dates to 5,650 cal BP; the Glenrose site near Vancouver dates to 4,000 to 5,300 cal BP. Weir production appears to peak in the archaeological record at approximately 1,500 cal BP – when things got really weir-d (Moss 2011). It is not known if weirs were intentionally used for specific types of fish, though weirs are generally associated with salmon – because, hey, everything is associated with salmon (Moss et al. 1990).
Two Fish, Three Fish, not One Fish Sure, salmon was a primary staple in specific places, such as Prince Rupert Harbour and Namu (Butler & Campbell 2004; Coupland 1998; Coupland et al. 2010). But salmon was not the primary food resource in many locations, such as the west coast of Vancouver Island, Central British Columbia Coast, northern Strait of Georgia, and specific locales in the Salish Sea (McKechnie et al., 2014; Moss 2011; Coupland et al. 2010). Herring, eulachon, rockfish, halibut, dogfish, cod, and shellfish all contributed meaningfully (Lepofsky & Caldwell 2013; Monks 1987; Moss 2011).
McKechnie et al. (2014) suggest that herring, little herring, appear to have been more important to Northwest Coast peoples than previously recognized. Their study demonstrates that herring were more ubiquitous (existing in 99% of the 171 sites reviewed) and abundant (among the top two most abundant fish taxa in 80% of the assemblages) than the historical record demonstrated. Previous studies missed this. Why? Because of the fine screen mesh used in more recent analyses is needed to collect small herring bones. This is one very practical example of a historical shortcoming. Earlier archaeologists were not finding what they were not looking for because their mesh screens were gauged too large to collect the small herring bones, depicted in the picture at the start of this blog.
Wood and Fiber Resources Wet sites such as Ozette remind us that wooden artifacts were everywhere, but are largely missing from the archaeological record (Croes 2003; Moss 2011). This makes it difficult to document the utility of various trees. We know redcedar was culturally valued after becoming abundant during the Mid-Holocene (Moss 2011). Suttles describes redcedar as, “… light and easily split, yet strong and resistant to rot” (1990:24). It is promoted as the tree of life by Stewart (1984). There is significant documentation of the usefulness of redcedar to build houses, canoes, monumental poles, storage boxes, masks, and ceremonial regalia (Lacourse 2007; Moss 2011).
Redcedar is limited to cooler, humid climates and has a limited range from 42-57°N. These considerations must have made it an exclusive commodity without extensive trading, yet little attention is paid to other trees used for fabrication of goods or firewood, such as lodgepole pine, western hemlock, Douglas fir, or Sitka spruce. Isn’t firewood interesting? Hard wood burns long and strong; soft woods burn faster. Good stuff to discuss while sipping some Pendleton whisky. I say, look beyond the redcedar!
In Closing Archaeologists in the Northwest Coast must be careful to avoid the two pitfalls of theory development inherent in scientific practices that rely upon the development of patterns of evidence over time. The diverse soceities of the coast were not merely hunter-gatherers, not merely salmon consumers, and used woods other than redcedar. Don’t get stuck in the pattern. It is sobering to consider that we may be missing 90 percent (!) of the prehistoric cultural artifacts because they were made of wood or fiber (Croes 2003). We are missing alot due to erosion, disintegration, and development of roads, parking lots, and houses.
Post Script It seems odd that Northwest Coast social complexity is defined by hierarchical leadership structures; it seems clear that maintaining a social structure where there are no leaders, only leading arguments, would be difficult to maintain. Successful management of resources was for the good of the clan, moiety, or tribe.