The water taxi slices through the thin veneer of ocean ice, past the islands rising out of the morning mist, into the inlet, where forested mountains sweep down to the rocks.
Approaching isolated Flores Island, in the heart of the Clayoquot Sound UNESCO Biosphere Reserve, the water is dotted with abandoned, half sunken boats, a legacy of the vanished First Nations fishery.
The sign overlooking the dock, which should say Welcome to Ahousaht, is missing two letters, telling its own story of the troubled community where up to 800 members of the Ahousaht First Nation, out of a registered population of 1,876, live in a village of mouldy houses and rotting buildings.
Less than one hour away from the tourist attractions and expensive resorts of Tofino is B.C.'s version of a Third World ghetto, where crumbling homes flank muddy, dirt roads and several generations pack in under one roof because of the shortage of habitable housing.
Ahousaht is an extreme example of the housing misery that plagues many First Nations reserves across Canada. Here, on this small island, problems are magnified because of isolation, high unemployment, the collapse of traditional fishing and forestry industries and shoddy homes never designed to withstand wet, West Coast weather.
"Look at the houses. We are a disgrace to the Government of Canada. We have mouldy houses and people are getting sick. It's like a Third World country," said Ahousaht housing manager Paul Frank.
Most of the 148 post-and-beam houses on the 368-hectare reserve were built in the 1960s and 1970s with Indian Affairs funding and the rest were built between 1990 and 2004 with INAC funding and Canada Mortgage and Housing Corporation subsidies. The majority of the homes are owned collectively by the band, which pays off the mortgages by charging rent to band members.
However, it is a struggle to get people to pay their rent because of the condition of the houses, said Chief Keith Atleo, explaining that the band has to make up the difference by taking funds destined for other programs. "With the elders and people with bad health problems, we help out."
The old houses do not have proper foundations and "are really just four walls and a couple of rooms," Atleo said.
The newer homes are more elaborate, but conditions are little better.
CMHC picked the contractor to build the homes -- a company that has since disappeared, Atleo said.
"The material was not good quality; their job standards were not up to par," he said, adding that inspectors didn't catch key issues, such as the fact that some houses have ventilator covers on roofs and outside walls, but no actual vents.
According to Indian and Northern Affairs Canada, since 1984, all construction on reserves must meet building codes. "Some of the houses in the older part of the community were built to standards of the time, which included wooden foundations on concrete blocks," said spokeswoman Valerie Barrett.
With no drainage systems, mould problems started almost immediately, Frank said.
"At first I tried to wash the mould off with bleach, but it came back," said Shirley John, 69, who has lived almost her entire life in Ahousaht and is struggling to survive in the old house that wasn't designed to withstand an annual rainfall of more than three metres.
"Shirley needs a new home," said band councillor Curtis Dick. "But we are quoted $200,000 a home and we're going to receive $40,000 from INAC. Where do we come up with $160,000 for an elder on a fixed income?"
Ahousaht is a community struggling to get a grip on its social problems, whether alcohol abuse or teen suicide, and where leaders are trying to plan for a different future. But hope mixes uneasily with the realities of mushrooms growing in the bathroom, toxic, black mould spreading across ceilings and down walls, and holes in floors and walls.
Inside the band office, signs offer a snapshot of difficulties faced by the community where unemployment is more than 60 per cent and there is little money to fix the most urgent problems.
"If you are intoxicated or on drugs you will not receive your (welfare) cheque today," one notice says.
Nearby is the pest control list where residents ask for help eliminating everything from cockroaches and ants to outsize rats.
"Big, huge rats. Cat won't do its job," says a scribbled note.
Five of the mouldiest houses, among 106 assessed by Health Canada in 2005, have been condemned, with residents moving into transitional housing or shoehorning in with relatives. The band received word this month that federal funding of $42,000 a house would be available shortly to demolish those homes and rebuild.
The band's dreams centre around plans for a new village site, with proper drainage and culturally appropriate homes, built of cedar, with overhangs to protect from the weather and room for extended families.
"The old townsite has springs underground. We want to move to where it's drier," Frank said.
"Indian Affairs put us here. No one knew how wet it was," Atleo added.
The new townsite was used for a residential school until it burned down about 1940. The land, which the government sold to a forestry company but is now back in federal control, is expected to be transferred to the band this month.
Initially, about 40 houses are planned, and the community would be involved in design and building. The site has room for 180 new lots.
However, infrastructure costs alone would be about $5.6 million -- a cost that would have to be shared by the federal government and the band.
"We're working through the costs with INAC right now," Atleo said. "We want to go to outside sources. Some of our people want to go into the tourist industry and try and get money for new houses."
Deputy chief John Frank said the band wants to be self-sufficient, but says it is limited by unemployment. The band controls a few small woodlots, and has a limited ability to fish -- no commercial troll licences are being handed out in the area, meaning band members can fish only for food and ceremonial purposes.
"We looked after ourselves for thousands of years. We don't want the taxpayers to look after us," he said.
Since 2002, INAC has provided $3.7 million to Ahousaht including $1.6 million for mould-related work, after Health Canada identified serious concerns, Barrett said. The mould funding financed assessments of houses, studies to improve drainage, the construction of seven homes for residents of condemned houses, and the remediation of eight mouldy homes.
But Atleo argues the money could have been better spent -- he said INAC insisted on having its own consultants assess the mouldy homes when the band had previously brought in inspectors.
"They said they needed their own information. It's sad. We could have had a lot of homes with the money INAC wasted," he said.
During the last fiscal year, INAC has approved $737,628 in additional targeted funding for capital projects in Ahousaht. Targeted funding is usually used for projects such as infrastructure and housing.
Atleo would not say how much the band receives annually from government for all its programs, but INAC spokesman Karl Freeborn said the 10 member nations of the Nuu-chah-nulth Tribal Council, of which the Ahousaht band is a member, divided up $27 million in annual funding for programs and social development.
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NATIVE HOUSING SERIES
JUDITH LAVOIE & LINDSAY KINES
TODAY: The sorry state of First Nations housing on reserves across B.C. and Canada is hardly a secret. Governments, consultants and chiefs agree it's a national disgrace, yet the crisis persists.
MONDAY: The elephant in the living room -- how serious issues are overshadowed by the visuals that accompany them: neglect, mess and uncleanliness.
TUESDAY: How poor designs, shoddy construction, and lax oversight created reserves full of of rotting, mould-infested homes.
WEDNESDAY: Aboriginal people pay a high price for poor housing -- their health.
THURSDAY: The crisis isn't limited to reserves -- First Nations account for one in three homeless people in B.C.
FRIDAY: How three bands are changing the tide by bankrolling their own projects, requiring more accountability and relying on solid leadership.
SATURDAY: What needs to be done -- two First Nations chiefs and two politicians offer their prescription for the future.
