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Sweat lodge

I used to go to university in Canada. I lived in a residence across the hall from a guy called Jonah who came from native Indian heritage. We often talked about sweat lodges and I have always wanted to visit one.

Last night when we got to Neah Bay we were all in need of a stiff drink because of our little adventure but because we were towed into an Indian Reservation, there was not so much as a beer to greet us (It’s a dry reservation). Instead we settled for an early night in bed.

It got me thinking about the way of life on an Indian Reservation so when a couple of locals wandered past our boat this morning to check out the damage, I asked them about the possibility of visiting a sweat lodge.

Neah Bay has just 2000 residents and the two men quickly pointed me in the direction of Joe Joe McGimpsey who has a “sweat” in his backyard. They said I could probably track him down by going to the local Native American Museum. We weren’t doing much on the boat except for cleaning up the mess so I took a wander down there and the lady behind the counter soon put me on the phone to Joe Joe.

I explained our situation and he said he’d be happy to give us a cleanse.

He came and met us at the marina just after 4pm and took Isaac and I in his truck to his home. When we got there Isaac helped him chop firewood for the lodge while we smoked cigars.

Joe Joe shared with us many stories, about how he helps a lot of the locals overcome alcoholism and drug abuse via chanting and prayer in his lodge. He was also responsible for the museum, after being selected as one of six locals to study museum management at the University of Washington in the 70s. The six of them were responsible for all aspects of the museum from its design to construction to fit out.

Meet Joe Joe:

After a couple of hours preparing we began to sweat. Native Indians usually sweat in four rounds – the first to cleanse, the second to honour the masculine side of the world, the third to honour the feminine and the fourth, personal prayer.

Surrounded by cedar, Joe Joe chanted as we smudged burning sage around us to remove unwanted negative energy from within us.

Part way through the first round, a young woman in her early 20s called Tori came in and joined us. At the end of the round, we stepped outside to dip into the icy plunge pool and got talking to her.

“Where do you work?” Isaac asked. “The Coast Guard,” she replied.

“Oh were you out on one of the boats which rescued us?” (there were two)

“No, I was the voice on the radio.”

How amazing is that? I know it’s a small town but of all the sweat lodges she could have gone to and at the same time as us, it was as if it was meant to be. I mean, how often do you get to meet the person on the end of a phone or radio who played a major hand in saving your life?

Meet Tori: