
The sky was clear at the harbor in Sand Point last week as about a dozen kids and adults climbed into a niĝilax̂ — a traditional Unangax̂ skin boat. It was the last week of the Qagan Tayagungin Tribe’s two-week Culture Camp, and a crowd of spectators had gathered to watch the campers paddle around the harbor.
Dance instructor Mason Kwasnikov used to be one of those young campers. In his early twenties now, he’s a central figure in the Unangax̂ dance community in Anchorage. He comes home for the camp every summer.
Kwasnikov enjoys blending the traditional with the modern — picture traditional tattoos along with heart-shaped glasses and white New Balance sneakers.
“I think that a lot of us in the younger generations of Unangas are really trying to embrace the culture, like incorporating it into our everyday lives,” he said. “We’re just trying to have fun with it.”
As the last camper climbed into the boat and the paddlers pushed off from the dock, Kwasnikov began to sing, beating a drum he’d made himself.
The boat’s name is Unangam Anĝii, which translates to “Unangax̂ Spirit.” It first touched the water during the 2023 culture camp — an important vessel for a community that hadn’t paddled a niĝilax̂ for generations.
As the campers rounded a buoy, flanked by green tundra and steep cliffs, they raised their paddles in the air.
Tradition renewed
Culture camps are popular all around the state as a way to celebrate and pass on Alaska Native traditions to younger generations. In the Aleutians, arts, dance and craft instructors from all across the chain traveled to Sand Point this year for its 25th annual camp.
Camp Director Carla Chebetnoy was there in the beginning. She’s one of the key people who helped start Sand Point’s camp in the 1990s, when there were only a few Unangax̂ culture camps. Today, communities all across the thousand-mile Aleutian Chain host their own camps.
Chebetnoy says it’s a way to pass on traditions that she was afraid would be lost.
“It was important to us because we had no Unangax̂ speakers alive in our community, and our kids didn’t know anything about their culture or traditions or anything,” she said.
Chebetnoy said she grew up surrounded by elders. She wanted her children to have the same opportunities to learn about their traditions and culture. That hope helped inspire the first camp.
“As it grew, my children became instructors, and my grandchildren are at camp,” she said.
Starting young
On the last night of the camp, people from all over town came out for a dance performance and potluck at the tribe’s community center. The performance lasted about an hour. Dancers of all ages wore beaded headdresses, animal skin robes and medallions — all regalia that was made at camp.
Another camp organizer and instructor, Peter Devine Jr., said he remembers the first camp in Sand Point, when he took the kids camping in the hills for a whole week. Ultimately, they turned it into a day camp.
Devine said that when he and Chebetnoy were planning the first camp, they decided to make it open for all ages, unlike other camps in the region that mostly started with fifth graders.
“I always tell everybody, ‘we got the best camp in the state,’” he said. “We start when they’re young.”
Devine said he’s proud of the work he’s done organizing it over the years, but that he’s glad a new generation is starting to take the helm.
“I see us being able to hand it over to them, no problem,” he said. “It’s just a matter of when they want to boot me out.”
Unalaska’s Camp Qangayux̂ began this week, along with Akutan and Atka, which alternate biannually to host a joint camp. Nelson Lagoon’s camp begins Aug. 2.

Normally bustling with workers, Peter Pan’s boardwalks and bunkhouses are now empty.
By Hal Bernton for ProPublica and Nathaniel Herz, Northern Journal
This article was produced in a partnership with ProPublica, Northern Journal and the Anchorage Daily News.
Last summer, an unsettling quiet cloaked the isolated Southwest Alaska community of King Cove as the town’s economic engine — a sprawling seafood processing plant — sat shuttered.
Bunkhouses, once filled with hundreds of workers during the peak salmon harvest, were vacant. Four diesel generators that had rumbled day and night were stilled. The plant docks, once lined with boats and circled by fish-scavenging gulls, were empty.
The closure resulted from the financial implosion of the plant’s owner, Peter Pan Seafood. Some local fishing boat captains directed their ire at company leaders who accepted their seafood, then failed to pay them. (more…)

Maggie Nelson.
Sand Point is without access to fuel after a fire broke out at the local Trident Seafoods plant.
The fire started early Thursday morning, pausing the processor’s operations, including its fuel sales, which the small eastern Aleutian community relies on.
Sand Point Police Chief Benjamin Allen said the lack of fuel is the biggest concern at the moment.
“Nobody can get gas right now,” Allen said. “[Trident] has to get clearance from the Coast Guard before they can start the gas pumps back up again.”
Allen said he doesn’t know how long that will take, but Trident has been working to get things going again.
“During the incident, their generator threw a connecting rod out the side of the engine block and it ruptured the fuel line to the generator,” Allen said. “And there was a good bit of diesel on the surface of the water that Trident’s been cleaning up.”
The small fire started in the generator room of the facility around 1 a.m. Thursday, according to Trident’s Vice President of Global Communications Alexis Telfer.
(more…)