Guardians: Indigenous Stewards of the Ocean and Land
- Great Bear Carbon
- Sep 28
- 7 min read
In the Great Bear Rainforest, stewardship is a way of life.
Stretching over 6.4 million hectares along British Columbia’s north and central coast, the Great Bear Rainforest is one of the world’s last remaining temperate rainforests. Its towering cedars and moss-covered shoreline are home to orcas, salmon, grizzlies, humpback whales, and the elusive Spirit Bear. But the rainforest offers more than beauty. It stores more carbon per hectare than the Amazon, making it a critical natural climate solution.

The protection of this place is rooted in the stewardship of First Nations of the North Pacific Coast, who have lived here since time immemorial. Their knowledge, shaped over generations, is at the heart of the Great Bear Carbon Project. This project protects the forest by linking Indigenous-led conservation to global climate solutions.
At the heart of that stewardship are the Guardians, trained First Nations members who monitor, protect, and care for their territories daily. Their work is grounded in lived experience and passed-down knowledge, which plays a needed role in protecting ecosystems and culture.
The Role of the Guardians
Stepping onto a Guardian boat at dawn, you’ll find tools of both technology and tradition. A drone rests in its case on the boat. A data sheet sits next to an archaeological dig. This blend of old and new defines Guardian work in the Great Bear Rainforest.
Guardian programs, operated by Coastal First Nations, are as diverse as the communities they serve. But the foundation is the same: to uphold ancestral responsibilities while adapting to today's needs. Guardians are monitors, educators, first responders, and cultural stewards.
Their responsibilities include:
Monitoring wildlife with traditional tracking and modern tech, like drones and hydrophones.
Collecting scientific data on water quality, fish populations, shoreline erosion, and climate trends.
Safeguarding cultural sites, such as burial grounds and petroglyphs, which are threatened by rising sea levels and storm surges.
Community engagement, from taking Elders to harvesting sites to teaching youth how to read the land and water.
Emergency response, including oil spill containment, search and rescue, and firefighting.
Restoration, reviving clam gardens and herring spawning beds to rebuild once-thriving ecosystems.
Through this work, guardians protect biodiversity, revitalize culture, and create connections to places. Every patrol, every data point, every community trip helps ensure the rainforest continues to thrive.
A Day in the Life of a Guardian
All Guardians’ paths are different, but they all begin with a shared purpose of caring for the land and sea so future generations can experience it.
George Fisher, Gitga’at First Nation

George Fisher began his Guardian journey in 2013, though his path began earlier through the salmon enhancement program. After completing the 60-ton small vessel operator certification in spring 2014, he was offered a part-time Guardian role and a full-time position by September that year. Now in his 11th season, George has grown with the Gitga’at program and has become one of its most experienced members.
As a teenager, George watched the original Guardian Watchmen at work, inspired by how they lived out the values taught by the Elders. That early exposure helped shape his identity and commitment to stewardship. “We’re the eyes and ears of our territory,” he says. “Our people used to harvest these shores and walk these beaches. We’re still here, and now we use every tool available to protect them.”
There are many tools. George is a certified advanced drone pilot, he’s been flying since 2013, and a commercial diver trained in underwater survey work, hydrophone monitoring, and marine mapping. June is one of the busiest times of year for the Gitga’at team, with extensive coastal shoreline mapping underway. In 2024 alone, the team surveyed close to 17,500 kilometers of coastline, sometimes covering up to 400 kilometres daily with multiple vessels in operation.
For George, the Guardian program is as much about people as it is about the place he calls home. The Gitga’at Guardians run year-round out of Hartley Bay, with eight staff in the field and more than 30 on the Gitga’at Oceans and Land Department technical side. Every morning starts at 8:30 a.m. with assignments from their coordinator, and fieldwork can run seven days a week in the summer.
The program is deeply rooted in community engagement: Guardians regularly take Elders and youth out to harvest halibut, cockles, seaweed, and salmon, with a particular focus on supporting those without boats.
George sees cultural connection as central to the work. Gitga’at has 15 reserve lands, and seasonal harvesting reflects the age-old movement patterns of the Gitga'at. Guardians also protect sacred cultural sites, like ancient petroglyphs along the Douglas Channel shoreline. “We used to have 265 visible petroglyphs,” George says. “Now we’re lucky if we can find 65.” Some, once taken, were returned after years of advocacy and now live in the Gitga’at feast hall.
George has also participated in the CFN Technician Training Program, which brings together Guardians from across the coast to share skills in environmental science, Parks Canada protocols, and Department of Fisheries and Oceans monitoring. “Guardian exchanges are where you make lifelong friendships,” he says, listing connections from Haida Gwaii to Bella Bella to Klemtu. “We may have different dialects and ways, but we’re all doing the same work and protecting what matters.”
For George, being a Guardian isn’t a job. It’s a movement. “The program is set up for the long term. We’re in this for the future. For our families. For our territory.”
Tina Ryan, Metlakatla First Nation

Tina became the first female Guardian in the Metlakatla First Nation six years ago. What started as a three-month temporary position quickly became a full-time, permanent role. Today, she leads Metlakatla’s three-person team as Guardian Supervisor, monitors coastal waters daily, coordinates patrols, and supports cultural and ecological projects across her community.
Her days begin at 8:30 a.m. She’s typically on the boat, ready to head out. No two days are the same, from seaweed patrols to food fishing to marine incident response. “Being out on the ocean is one of the biggest joys,” Tina says. “You never see the same thing twice.”
She recalls seeing 250 orcas moving together in pods, accompanied by porpoises. Another day, she watched 50 humpback whales surfacing like a symphony under the sunset. “No matter how often I go out in the same direction, it’s breathtaking.”
Tina’s deep connection to the water started at an early age. Her father, a community fisherman, often took her and her siblings out on the water. He passed away in 2006, but his legacy continues. Now, Tina goes out with her uncle, an Elder in the community, helping to teach the next generation the same lessons she learned. “Dad always said there used to be so much more food,” she remembers. “It’s dwindled, and I want to help reverse that or at least maintain what we have for future generations.”
Metlakatla’s herring population has collapsed, and other food fisheries are slowly declining too. Tina and her team just wrapped up the June seaweed season, patrolling harvest sites to educate pickers, ensure sustainable practices, and protect future growth. “We’re not just protecting resources. We’re protecting our culture and memories. That’s what makes this place feel like home.”
The summer season is packed with boat monitoring, food fishing, and managing sport fishing activity. Her work also involves long-term care, including archaeological assessments, habitat monitoring, and supporting community projects such as the construction of a new helipad. With only one boat, they often share with the fisheries team, and expansion would mean hiring more staff and securing additional vessels.
One of Tina’s favourite roles is guiding youth. “Every year, we get to bring a young person out on the land and water,” she says. “We’ve got to go out and learn where our old village sites are, where grave sites are.” Rising sea levels and erosion have made protecting the sacred sites a growing priority. Trees fall, remains are uncovered, and each discovery calls forward the stories from Elders in the Tsimshian community.
She never expected to be seen as a leader, but her role speaks for itself. “I don’t feel like a leader, but people are proud of me. As a supervisor, I’m the go-to person when someone needs our team.” In a tight-knit community of around 100 people, that means something. “We work and live alongside each other. Everyone’s family.”
Tina credits programs like the CFN technician training and revenue from contract work for helping to maintain their operations. Still, for her, the job isn’t just about data or enforcement, it’s about something much more profound. “The land has taught me to stop and smell the flowers,” she laughs. “We are the eyes and ears of our territory. We’re here to protect it for as long as possible so we can tell our kids and grandkids the stories. And they’ll keep telling them. That’s how it continues.”
She pauses. “We want this place to stay beautiful the way it is.”
The Role of the Carbon Project
Guardians like George and Tina's work is rooted in responsibility, but needs reliable funding. That’s where Great Bear Carbon comes in.
Credit Johnny Johnson
Through the Atmospheric Benefit Sharing Agreements, participating Nations generate verified carbon offsets by preserving old-growth forests that absorb vast amounts of carbon. Thease offsets are sold on both the international voluntary market and the B.C provincial compliance market. Under the agreements, at least 65% of the revenue from these sales must go directly to supporting stewardship activities that protects the rainforest.
Carbon revenue supports:
● Full-time Guardian Watchmen positions
● Equipment, training, and certification
● Data collection and scientific research
● Cultural and harvesting trips
● Intergenerational mentorship and learning

This model ensures that the care of the rainforest remains in the hands of those who know it best. Guardians don’t always speak the language of carbon markets, but they speak to the outcomes. They understand the importance of having a year-round program, passing on knowledge, and ensuring safety and sovereignty in their homelands.
“The carbon project allows us to think long-term,” says George. “We can train up our teams, expand our reach, and know we’ll still be doing this in 15 years.”
Indigenous-led conservation is not just a climate solution. It’s a way of the future.
In the Great Bear Rainforest, Guardians blend traditional knowledge with modern tools to care for lands and waters that sustain everyone. Their work restores habitats, protects endangered species, preserves culture, and safeguards one of Earth's most effective carbon sinks.
When you purchase a Great Bear Carbon offset, you're not just balancing emissions; you’re helping ensure that Guardians have the tools, training, and support they need to keep this place whole today and for future generations.
Invest in climate action rooted in Indigenous wisdom.





