COLUMNS Close to the Water

20 Close to the Water

THE RIGHT BOAT

by Bruce Bateau

You probably know this type of boater; the person who has I hadn’t thought too much about it until last weekend when, a hard time with commitment. This year they’re training in an too busy to go on a satisfying sail, I figured I did have time for

Alden rowing shell, next year outfitting an Ericson 38 keeps a quick row. them busy—until the following season, when it’s traded in for “Hey, Merry,” I called to my son, “it’s a beautiful summer that new Cal 20 they’re now feverishly tricking out for racing. morning. Get your brain away from that computer and come What gives? rowing with me.”

Many boaters seem to spend their whole careers looking “I guess,” he said, sauntering out of the gloom of his den. for the ideal ride: The Best Boat Ever. On the other end of the We strapped Terrapin, our 15-foot Adirondack guideboat, to spectrum are those fortunate mariners who buy one and stick the roof of the car, and 20 minutes later were floating in the with it for years on end, like our family did. Were we lucky Willamette River, near downtown Portland. I took the rower’s enough to find the perfect boat early on? Or are we simply position in the bow, while Merry lounged in the stern, his big too undemanding? And what makes the right boat, anyway? hand dragging in the water. 48º NORTH 20 OCTOBER 2020

As I pushed off from the dock, I couldn’t resist smiling at the been my first camp-cruising vessel. For those first tentative memory of first launching Terrapin from this same spot almost trips, I loaded a week’s worth of food, a tent, and art supplies exactly 12 years ago. I remember how excited 60-pound into the boat and took off into open water, eventually stringing

Merry was to sit in the stern, which stuck up so high off the together trips from Olympia all the way to Port Townsend. In water, it looked like the boat was doing a wheelie. Quite a bit the process, I learned about tides and currents, how to cross larger at age 19, Merry now balanced me perfectly in Terrapin.

Back in the old days, my younger son, Pippin, would join us, scampering around in Terrapin as if it were an aquatic jungle gym. When he turned six, I gave him and Merry a single oar and placed them in the central and forward seats, while I wielded a canoe paddle in the stern, and served as the coxswain. We had exciting adventures shooting between pilings, racing kayakers, and going fishing together, all with nary a spill.

Today, Merry and I rowed towards cottonwood-covered Ross Island and encountered a few more wakes than I was excited about. But, as always, Terrapin rose instead of bashing against the wake, cresting it and reaching flat water, resulting in a dry ride. It helped that over the years Merry has internalized the calm necessary to keep the boat’s center of gravity right where it was needed: low down. Lying back in the stern, his legs outstretched and the paddle by his feet, he occasionally called out a deadhead, but otherwise acted like teenage ballast. Near the north end of the island, we reached a sandy beach in a sheltered cove. Twenty or so shantyboats draped in Bruce approaches Cape Horn in the Columbia River Gorge on a fall day. frayed blue tarps take up much of the cove now, unlike the

Merry and I rounded the north end of the island and headed for the dock. Framed on both sides by dense trees, this was old days when the boys were anxious to head out solo, and it shipping lanes safely, and the effects of wind on water. was mostly just us on the beach. I remember tying a long line When we got out of the river, a guy flagged me down. “Is to the stern and letting them row out alone like watery kites. that an Adirondack guideboat?” he asked. I never told their mother, but when I felt they had enough I beamed. Most people are unable to correctly differentiate control over the oars (and long enough arms), I allowed them Terrapin from a canoe. But to those in the know, the guideboat’s to row about freely, confident they could return on their own. curvaceous, flared sides, high ends, and low freeboard in the middle mark it as a rowing craft. I never tire of looking at its cherry trim and breasthooks, which contrast elegantly with the hull’s dark green, and I’m always tickled when others notice my boat’s beauty. The oft-repeated phrase about guideboats is that they’re the “pick-up trucks of the Adirondacks.” I won’t argue this point about their heritage, but I think it belies something else about them: they’re one of the most adaptable small boats around. Whether it’s an evening drift with my wife and a picnic basket, a rough solo crossing of Admiralty Inlet, or a kid-sized adventure, the guideboat performs. It’s also small enough to store easily at home, to manhandle onto the roof of the car alone, and is so easy to maintain that I own it; it doesn’t own me. Yet while I’ve had the same boat for all these years, Terrapin is so versatile that I don’t always feel like we’re going steady, but rather like a guy who is on the next thing. After all, the guideboat has been three boats in one: It has the chops to handle rough Pippin and his friend Will navigate the backwaters of Sauvie water, the ability to cruise, and the flexibility to accommodate Island, Oregon. the whole family. Is it the perfect boat? Who knows. Is it the

right boat? It all depends on what I want to do that day. the wildest place on this section of the Willamette. My hands Bruce Bateau sails and rows traditional boats with a modern were feeling a bit raw. It had been a while since I hauled a twist in Portland, Ore. His stories and adventures can be found at heavy load in Terrapin, and I was reminded of how she had www.terrapintales.wordpress.com 48º NORTH 21 OCTOBER 2020