After several lives — a wilderness lodge, an eco-resort — the accommodation was relaunched as Klahoose Wilderness Resort in 2021, with a new focus on immersive cultural experiences and outdoor activities such as kayaking, fishing and tours to see grizzly bears and other wildlife. Tourism is a two-way street here, according to Jason Johnson, general manager of the management corporation. Guests have the opportunity to learn from their hosts and enjoy their time in the wilderness, all while directly contributing to the Klahoose First Nation.

“We measure success not simply by profits but by how our businesses have a direct impact on the lives of our people,” says Chief Steven Brown of Klahoose First Nation.

Up a set of stairs from the cold inlet, we’re greeted on the porch of the lodge’s main building by people singing the Klahoose welcome song, composed by Drew Blaney of the Tla’amin Nation. Guide and cultural interpreter Klemkwateki Randy Louie starts on his drum first, joined by guide Leon Timothy, prep cook Riley Harry, head of housekeeping Charissa Hunt, Sofia Nybida, who works in the kitchen, Coral De-lorme from housekeeping and Norman Harry Jr., the resort’s jack-of-all-trades. I feel my foot start to tap, and the tune, if not the words, stays in my head for much of my stay.

After introductions, we’re ushered into what feels like a family room. “Your new home for the next four days ,” says Timothy.

He tells me about an uncle, who attended residential school. His uncle used to not talk to anyone about his experiences, but after time, Louie says, he found it helpful to open up. In some ways, Louie says, talking about these things is a way to release the feelings — and to teach that healing to youth.

He smiles when he talks about his attempts to get more people involved in culture nights, even if they’re shy. Culture nights at the lodge involve staff practising drumming and singing, which Louie describes as “medicine” — healing through singing the same songs their ancestors sang. Staff at Klahoose Wilderness Resort aren’t compelled to perform for guests, Louie tells me. Rather, culture nights are an opportunity for staff — and visitors — to learn.

It’s part of a broader strategy of “ensuring our people occupy fulfilling career opportunities and not ‘just a job.’ The Klahoose Wilderness Resort is an essential part of achieving that,” says Chief Brown.

“We are all learning. And this is a process that is never complete,” says Johnson, general manager of Qathen Xwegus Management Corporation, about whether other First Nations can learn from the Indigenous tourism model that Klahoose resort has demonstrated a demand for. But I think Johnson’s sentiment also applies to how tourism can be an act of reconciliation, how we honour the land we’re on and how we can learn from its original peoples.

Klahoose Nation is also using tourism as a tool to get their traditional land back — last year the nation added 14.3 acres (about 5.8 hectares) to Tork Reserve on Cortes Island. “It’s a tool we will continue to utilize, and I would encourage other Nations to as well, but one I wish we didn’t have to,” says Chief Brown. “The 14.3 acres is land that should have been included in our reserve when it was created; however, we had to purchase it back as fee-simple land at market rate. Essentially, we bought our stolen land back and asked Canada’s permission to have it as part of our reserve,” he says.

“Putting the cynicism aside though, this is an exciting opportunity for Klahoose. It’s a 15-minute walk from our community — will create local jobs and allow guests to experience this beautiful place we call home.”