Donald Dardar, co-chairman of the Point-au-Chien Indian Tribe, still chokes-up as he remembers seeing the remains of his village for the first time after Hurricane Ida. (Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News)
by Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News Editor
Standing on the porch of the tribal community center six months after Hurricane Ida pummeled his community, Donald Dardar still chokes-up as he remembers seeing the remains of his village for the first time. The area, home to a fishing community of more than 800 Point-au-Chien Native Americans, endured some of the hurricane’s worst destruction leaving in its path unanswered questions on whether to rebuild in an area that is ground zero for the climate crisis.
Of the 80 tribal homes situated along the bayou, 68 received damage from the storm. . Many of those had not recovered from a battering last year during Hurricane Zeta. Photo: Instagram/Cajun Navy
“We were lucky. We were able to convince everyone to evacuate before the storm,” said Dardar, who serves as tribal co-chairman. “Can you imagine what would happen if someone stayed. They would have died for sure.”
Situated at the end of an of LA Highway 665 on Bayou Pointe-au-Chien, the tribal community straddles the bayou which serves as the Terrebonne –Lafourche Parish line,
Recognized as Native American Tribe by the State of Louisiana, its petition to the Bureau of Indian Affairs for federal recognition has been largely ignored.
Relying on sugar cane, trapping and of course fishing for its survival, the heritage of the nation can be traced to before the Pirate Jean Laffite made the area his stomping grounds. The French presence in Louisiana did leave one lasting influence on the tribe, its language.
“We’ve been here some 400 years, you know,” said Jake Billiot, a tribal councilman with more energy at the age of 78 than most 18-year-olds. “All the way back to the late 1600, maybe earlier. Who know?”
“We’ve been here some 400 years, you know,” said Jake Billiot, a tribal councilman with more energy at the age of 78 than most 18-year-olds. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
On Sunday August 29th of year last, Hurricane Ida made landfall on Grand Isle and set its sights on Point-aux-Chene, the name being spelled different than the tribe. With winds gusting to more than 220 mph, the bayou village suffered a double hit as eye of the storm passed directly overhead.
“Make sure you spell the name of the tribe correctly,” said Theresa Dardar, Donald’s wife and unofficial tribal media coordinator. “The state uses the French version for the village, Pointe-aux-Chenes, but the tribe is Pointe-au-Chein.”
Of the 80 tribal homes situated along the bayou, 68 received damage from the storm. . Many of those had not recovered from a battering last year during Hurricane Zeta. In total only twelve of the tribal homes were suitable for habitation after Ida.
“We didn’t lose any boats down here,” said Donald, sitting behind a desk surrounded by other members of the tribal council in the room. “The Geronimo (a shrimp boat) sunk, we had to refloat and replace the engine. A couple of oyster boats also were under water but we got those raised.”
Aid Slow To Come
Returning to their homes and boats was no easy task. With no help from any government agency, members of the tribe used chain saws and their trucks to clear the road home.
When questioned on how quickly aid arrived, Theresa Dardar said, “That a laugh. We did start receiving private donations and they just kept coming in.” She sits amongst the donations that is available to anyone in need. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
When questioned on how quickly aid arrived, Theresa Dardar said, “That a laugh. We didn’t hear nothing from the state, federal government or parish right away. We did start receiving private donations the Friday following the storm, and they just kept coming in.”
Two weeks following the storm Terrebonne President Gordy Dove, who had do dispel a rumor he died in the hurricane, had a meeting with tribal leaders. “We asked for limestone on a Thursday and we did receive that the following Monday,” said Theresa. “When I got to the tribal building around 9 a.m. that morning the parish had workers spreading the stone.”
Build Back Better
Separated into two areas, Pointe-aux-Chene and an island community of Isle de Jean Charles, the tribe claims to be descendants of the Chitmacha, as well as the Acolapissa, Atakapas and coastal Choctaw and Biloxi Indians.
“We’ll come back,” said Earl Billiot, standing in front of what was his home with a stairway leading nowhere. “It’s part of living down here. Part of living with hurricanes.” Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
All along the bayou one damaged home after another lay beneath tented blue tarp. Almost all the community plans to stay, but for the family of Earline Naquin, staying was not an option.
Naquin told the Guardian that her family had applied for aid from the Federal Emergency Management Agency (FEMA) after Hurricane Zeta but had been rejected, and rejected again after Ida. “We’re getting up in age,” she said. “And we just don’t have the money to clean up and buy things to rebuild any more.”
Donald Dardar and the rest of the council are worried about faltering assistance from the federal government. Low repair valuations by FEMA have made it almost impossible for residents to make the needed upgrades to face future storms, and not being a recognized tribal nation by the federal government has made it harder for the community to receive federal aid.
“Everybody wants to come back,” he said. “But FEMA only gave us $36,000 for our houses, that not enough to rebuild a house. Especially if you need to build it to survive the next storm.”
Fishing Is In the Blood
Fishing is in the blood and tribal boats eventually returned to the water.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep fishing, shrimping, crabbing,” said tribal councilman Earl Billiot standing on his boat. “Crab was good after the storm. Shrimp too. I’m now also fishing short lines for black drum.”
Debris, both in the bayous and near Gulf channels, has been a major issue that has plagued the Native American fishermen. A tribal member power washes crab traps filled with mud. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
According to Jake Billiot, who has been on the water since the age of five, it took a little time for the community to get back to the boats. “We didn’t go out fishing right away. No. Nobody went fishing right away,” he said.
Six months later the community has boats out on the water regularly fishing for both crabs and oysters. The inland shrimp season being closed by the state. The self-sufficient fishing community has its own dock for unloading. The seafood is then trucked to processors in Dulac, a half hour away.
Debris, both in the bayous and near Gulf channels, has been a major issue plaguing the Native American fishermen, as well as both commercial and recreational fisherman across the state. In addition mud has clogged a number of smaller bayous, and has posed a problem with keeping crab traps clean.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’ll keep fishing, shrimping, crabbing,” said tribal councilman Earl Billiot standing on his boat. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
“There are a large number of debris in the middle of the bayou, and I hit something on the other side of the flood gate,” said Jake describing his misadventure. “It didn’t damage the boat, but it gave a big thump.”
The tribal council agreed that it is important that the Louisiana Fishing Community Recovery Coalition address in this issue as a top priority in future meetings with state and national legislators. “The bayous need to be cleaned,” said the co-chair. “There are a lot of roofs from our houses sitting out there that need to be removed.”
According to Donald Dardar the tradition of making of living off the water is successfully being passed along to the next generation. “We have one member who is 21, who has been fishing for years and now he looking to buy a big boat.”
“I have four grandson and two granddaughters who all know how to fish,” said Jake in his loud voice and heavy Cajun accent. “They learned from the best, I always catch the most shrimp.”
Insurance Non-Existent
Tribal members have faced the stark realization that to stay in here they must learn to “build back better” as President Biden would say. Jake Billiot on what was the living area of his home. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
Like a majority of coastal Louisiana residents, few can afford insurance. For the Point-au-Chien tribe the number can be counted on one hand. Tribal members have faced the stark realization that to stay in here they must learn to “build back better” as President Biden would say.
The tribe plans to help everyone rebuilding utilize the most sustainable technologies, like strapped metal roofs. Many who have started repairs are already using these techniques. They would like the Louisiana Fishing Community Recovery Coalition to help find government assistance to help fund the rebuilding, as well as better protection from future storms and rising seas.
“If they don’t start doing something further out in the Gulf, this land will be gone also,” said Donald Dardar. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
“Our community needs protection from the elements. This wasn’t a water event, this was a wind event so there was nothing you could do about that, but we will continue to have water events,” said Donald. “They can build islands out in the ocean, why can’t they rebuild some of the disappearing island around here.”
Climate change and land loss has affected Louisiana’s coastline, no more so than in Pointe-Aux-Chenes. With 30-football-fields of land lost daily, much of the tribal heritage is being rapidly lost to the Gulf.
“I didn’t realize how substantial the land loss was till I started coming back here regularly. I used to come down here as a kid,” said Julie Falgout, a LSU Sea Grant agent talking with Donald Dardar on the porch of the tribal center. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
When Theresa Dardar recently returned to areas where decades ago she would shrimp with her husband as a young woman, she said she found them unrecognizable and that bays and lakes were no longer defined.
“I used to come down here as a kid,” said Julie Falgout, a friend of the tribe and area Louisiana Sea Grant at LSU agent. “I didn’t realize how substantial the land loss was till I started coming back here regularly. It is just overwhelming.”
“If they don’t start doing something further out in the Gulf, this land will be gone also,” said the tribal co-chairman. “They are putting rocks everywhere along our coastline, they don’t put rocks here.”
Forgotten
The tribe feels it is a forgotten part of Louisiana.
“We have been fighting to get federal recognition for our tribe, even the state doesn’t recognize us correctly,” explain Theresa. “Our tribal chairman and co-chair should have a government to government relationship with the governor, there is none.”
“We have all the documents, this land nobody can take it from us,” chimed in Jake.
“We have all the documents, this land nobody can take it from us,” said fisherman Jake Billiot. The tribe would like federal recognition and the land as a reservation. Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
“We would like to be recognized as a tribe and have this land as a reservation. I am not sure we would like to have a casino, but we would like to have businesses be able to operate here,” said Donald.
A rough business plan is already in place. The tribe is eager to open itself up to the outside world. It sees eco-tourism as one avenue. “We would like to offer bayou tours, where they could see alligators and other wildlife,” Therese explained. “Do educational programs about the life down here. Allow visitors on a tour boat to watch our fishermen catch shrimp, crabs and oysters. They could see just how it is done, how climate change has affected the area.”
But when she said, “Donald could take them on a three hour tour,” the room couldn’t help laughing and singing “a three tour hour-tour” from Gilligan’s Island.
“We have been fighting to get federal recognition for our tribe, even the state doesn’t recognize us correctly,” explain Theresa. “Our two tribal co-chairs should have a government to government relationship with the governor, there is none.” Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
The Point-au-Chien is a member of First Peoples Conservation, an organization consisting of six Louisiana Indian tribes. It stands against the Mid-Barataria Bay freshwater diversion efforts but not because of the freshwater hurting fishing in the area, but instead other fisherman affected would invade their waters and community.
Life since Ida has been filled with trouble and turmoil for its members. Every day brings new challenges to overcome, every day except Nov. 19th of last year.
“We had something that we never experienced down here before. We had a full moon, eclipse and a cold front. Our shrimpers that went out caught the most shrimp they have ever caught in their life,” said the Donald with a big smile on his face. “Jakes, brother caught 94 boxes in three hours, that’s 9400 pounds. We did about 500 boxes that day. The tribe caught about 16,000 dollars of shrimp that day.”
“We would like to be recognized as a tribe and have this land as a reservation. We would like to have businesses be able to operate here,” said the tribe’s co-chair. (Left to right) Theresa Dardar, Earl Billiot (councilman), Donald Dardar (co-chairman of the tribe), and Jake Billiot (councilman). Photo: Ed Lallo/Gulf Seafood News
“When my brother called me I went out, but I could only use one net,” said the 78-year old fisherman. It started about 4 am and went till a little after daybreak. I caught 50 boxes with one net. A lot unload and went back out. But it stopped as quickly as it started.”
For everyone in a community where relatives live next-door to each other, Ida has been a disaster they hope they never face again. The verdict is till out whether the town in which everybody knows everybody will survive and flourish as it did before the storm.
“We’ll come back,” said Earl Billiot, standing in front of what was his home with a stairway leading nowhere. “It’s part of living down here. Part of living with hurricanes. FEMA gave me a trailer but I can’t use it, no electricity. Six months later and I still ain’t got electricity. It sucks.”
For Donald, Earl, Jake and Theresa, as well as the rest of the Point-au-Chien Tribe, the biggest ask they would like of the Community Recovery Coalition in Washington is one that will probably never happen, although they hope it does. Recognition by the federal government and a piece of land to call their own.
It’s who you know, and what strings to pull , giving someone a home to live in and 6 months later still no power is uncalled for, I have seen some people receive a mobile home, and within a month was moved in with all connections., sometimes isn’t right with this picture. Our elected politicians are not doing their job. They only want to be known, when it’s time to vote.