Nuu-chah-nulth artists Dennis Hetu and Ivy Martin teamed up with the Clayoquot Biosphere Trust (CBT) on the west coast of Vancouver Island to bring traditional teachings to new welcome signage peppered throughout the region.
Installed near the Tofino-Ucluelet Junction, Hetu’s latest carving titled Eclipse of the Hunter’s Moon – a project he worked on with his students from the Toquaht Carving School – can be viewed from the multi-use path.
Carved using traditional and modern tools with store-bought Abalone shell inlays, Eclipse of the Hunter’s Moon portrays two wolves hunting during a lunar eclipse. At night, Hetu’s red cedar carving illuminates with a touch of glow-in-the-dark epoxy resin behind the moon.
“A lot of my carvings have to do with species at risk,” said Hetu, who was a big part of Parks Canada’s Wild About Wolves project and will be featured in the upcoming documentary ‘QʷAYAĆIIK’, meaning wolf in Nuu-chah-nulth, directed by Sam Rose Phillips.
“I have a very personal connection with the wolves in Toquaht Territory. I relate to the wolf. I do everything in my power to protect them and bring information about them (to the public), so people start to view them as non-threatening. In my opinion, the wolf is a species at risk. It’s legal to hunt them, which is a sad, sad thing for me. It’s terrible,” he continued.
According to the Ministry of Water, Land and Resource Stewardship, the 2025-2026 regulations give hunters an annual “bag limit” of three wolves provincewide, which includes Vancouver Island. A bag limit is the maximum number of a specific animal species that a hunter is legally allowed to harvest within a given licence year.
B.C. residents do not require a species-specific licence to hunt wolves and can legally hunt wolves with a basic hunting licence. This is subject to other conditions, such as the Gulf Islands Special Licence and associated requirements, said the ministry. Non-residents are required to purchase both a $75 non-resident licence as well as a $50 species-specific licence if they intend to hunt wolves.
“I really hope (the province) changes wolf hunting laws in the future,” said Hetu.
He went on to share that the posts for the sign were made from the yellow cedar of a culturally modified tree, which was harvested of its bark about 180 years ago.
“There is some history, there is some tradition, and the (cedar) rope is one of my favourite parts,” Hetu notes. “It frames in all my work. My wife Dorthea does that. She’s very talented.”
Martin’s series of carvings for Tofino
Ivy Martin’s series of eight-by-six-foot relief carvings are showcased on a trio CBT welcome signs located in the municipality of Tofino, within Tla-o-qui-aht First Nations traditional territory.
One carving overlooks the First Street Dock and features a double headed serpent, which was inspired by her dad Carl Martin’s traditional name, Sheesh-ulth. A second carving at Naa'Waya'Sum Coastal Indigenous Gardens is a hummingbird with flowers, and a third piece at Tourism Tofino’s Cox Bay Visitor Centre is a school of salmon.
“A school of salmon is my go-to because of the resilience they represent, dedicating their whole life to the next generation. I absolutely love salmon. When I don’t know what to do, a lot of the time I do a salmon,” said Martin, who comes from a family of prolific Tla-o-qui-aht carvers.
“I’m definitely super pleased and happy that it’s up. I do get weird moments when people actually realize that it was me that carved it,” she shared.
With support from a Community Economic Recovery Infrastructure Program (CERIP) grant, Colin Robinson, CBT program co-ordinator, commissioned the Nuu-chah-nulth artists to help convey the Clayoquot Sound UNESCO Biosphere Reserve story.
“We realized very quickly we couldn’t just talk about the communities as a third party and speak for the communities. You feel (art) more than you process it, the way you would read words,” said Robinson.
CBT also allocated a portion of the grant funding to each of the five Nuu-chah-nulth Nations within the UNESCO biosphere region (hiškʷiiʔatḥ (Hesquiaht First Nation), ʕaaḥuusʔatḥ (Ahousaht), ƛaʔuukʷiʔatḥ (Tla-o-qui-aht First Nations), Yuułuʔiłʔatḥ (Ucluelet First Nation), and tukʷaaʔatḥ (Toquaht Nation), so they could create their own signage independently.
“This is part of a way bigger movement in reinstating traditional teachings about the people who have stewarded this land since time immemorial,” Robinson said.
Martin thinks it’s cool to see more Nuu-chah-nulth art popping up around the region, especially by the chiseling hands of a younger generation.
“It’s a way of representing our culture that isn’t too harsh, in a sense. It’s just a way of including it and making sure all the visitors that are coming through notice it and ask more questions and wonder what the style is,” she said, adding that her work has “hints of Tla-o-qui-aht defined style”.
Hetu, a self-taught carver, says his style is a mix of traditional and contemporary; he’ll use old-school tools alongside modern equipment like chainsaws and electric sanders.
“Whatever saves me time,” said Hetu.
He is currently working on a seven-foot mother killer whale that literally gives birth.
“By lowering a cedar rope, a baby drops from her belly,” he explained.
Hetu’s mother killer whale carving pays homage to the young orca whale known as kʷiisaḥiʔis, meaning Brave Little Hunter, that was stranded in the shallow water of a lagoon near Zeballos after its mother died while pregnant in March 2024.
