S H A V I N G S V O L U M E X, N U M B E R 5
Published for members of T h e C e n t e r for Wooden Boats
September-October
1988
SAN FRANCISCO BARGE A — BUILDING ON PT. TOWNSEND STREET CORNER Wooden boatyards are where you find them. For instance, Van H o p e is building his newest craft on a street c o r n e r a block or so from the Port T o w n s e n d M a r i n a . No boatshop, no shed, not even a plastic tarp. It is definitely low-impact boatbuilding. "It's the way they used to be built," Van says. " T h e builders just found a piece of waste ground and started to w o r k . T h e biggest difference between this and building under cover is that you have to keep it painted while you're working o n it."
"She could haul just about a n y t h i n g , " said D o u g H u m e , who's helping at this stage of construction. " P u m p k i n s , c o r d w o o d , building supplies, or Christmas trees." Forty-one feet on deck with a 17-foot beam, she could haul a lot of it, too. T h o u g h she draws 9 feet with the board down, she will only draw 2¥> feet with it up. Van says it was this shallow draft and large
capacity that made the schooners so versatile. E n t e r p r i s i n g skippers could literally "sail them up on the beach. To handle lumber, Van has cut two lumber ports in the bow transom so long uncut pieces can be stowed below. He also plans to rig a "lumber r a i l , " a full pin rail six feet up in the rigging so that sheets and halyards can be tied off there if there's a towering deckload of sawn planks.
Simplicity is the key As befits a boat designed for general cargo, Van will keep the interior fittings simple and minimal. Instead of built — ins, he plans to put regular shoreside furniture below, including a table and chairs. T h e rest of the boat follows the same theme. Instead of brass portholes, the cabin windows will be square-framed. In fact, most of the construction details of the house are patterned after the cabin details in John Leavitt's Wake of the Coasters.
If you've seen Van's Pacific Trader, his new craft will be as surprising as where he's building it. T h e Trader is a plump Garden-designed cutter with graceful, if somewhat Reubenesque lines. T h e craft a — building also owes a lot to a Garden design, the Tillicum. It's a big San Francisco Bay scow schooner. " T h e r e used to be 15 or 20 of these up here in the S o u n d , " Van explains. " T h e y used them to haul mixed cargoes from places that didn't have very elaborate docks or landings. M a y b e we can do something like that."
"This is commercial construction all the way," Van claims. " T h e r e aren't going to be any frills."
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VOLUNTEERS; DONORS TRANSFORM SITE, THE FLEET IS NEXT An explosion of energy this year has transformed the appearance of the Center. T h e old burnt-earth upland is gone forever, the c o r d u r o y surface of floats at the north end has b e c o m e another fast-fading memory, as the Education C e n t e r now rises on a mirror smooth base of floats. "Operation Facelift" began in February with a convoy of dump trucks delivering 300 cubic yards of topsoil, a donation of L e a r y C o n s t r u c tion. T h e spring of 1988 probably set a new record for rain, wind, and cold. In spite of it, hundreds of volunteers struggled in the muck and mire of M a r c h and April with picks, shovels, chainsaws, backhoe, forklift, and crane. Twentyone Center members donated 591 hours in March. In A p r i l twenty-eight dedicated volunteers gave 498 hours. M a y and June involved planting a small forest of trees, flowers, shrubs, installing irrigation system, walks, rolling out instant grass and spreading huge quantities of shredded cedar skin, euphemistically called "beauty bark."
The Education Center The Education Center floats were ripped apart and refastened with Paul Bunyan — proportioned beams and recovered with decking. In July the Education C e n t e r began to look like a building. T h e 28-foot long, 6" x 14" beams, two feet apart, supporting the second
floor gave one the sense of security at least, and maybe some could picture themselves below decks in " O l d Ironsides." August was the month of shorts, bare feet, suntans, the entrance trellis, the Ed C e n t e r roof, and a tres elegant remodeling of " E c o l o g y Island" into " E c o l o g y N e c k , " linking N e w Forest to the streetside planting strip of Chinese maples. T h e E d C e n t e r (aka B i g H o u s e , Boathouse, Center House, the Center of the Center, and the Little Chapel by the Sea), has doors and w i n dows. Interior w o r k is underway w i t h D e c e m ber 31 as our target for completion. We have a N e w Year's E v e Regatta planned to help celebrate the end of the year of building construction, and the beginning of the year of boat reconstruction. Besides the landscaping and the new building, the fleet of historic small boats has also g r o w n this year. O u r collection of 80 boats is about 10 percent of all collections in the U . S . , close to half of those on the West Coast, and one of the largest collections available anywhere for the public to see.
Money multiplied by volunteers A c h i e v i n g our bright and well groomed appearance didn't happen by waving a golden wand. It required a cast of heroic volunteers, and a
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large infusion of money. T h e year began with a blockbuster grant from B u r l i n g t o n - N o r t h e r n Foundation. O t h e r contributors have been: A . G . Industries, C o m m i t t e e o f T h i r t y - T h r e e , C W B B o a r d o f Trustees, C W B M e m b e r s h i p , O a k m e a d Foundation, Pacific Northwest B e l l , S A F E C O , Seattle Foundation. Seattle T i m e s , Port of Seattle, and Washington M u t u a l Bank. T h r o u g h private donations, hard work, and creative planning we have built one of the country's most vital m u s e u m s . O u r learn-byexperience approach to maritime history is unmatched in effectiveness. H o w e v e r , we can't afford to bask in our success. O u r new building needs furniture, appliances, audio-visual equipment. O u r fleet of exhibit boats needs restoration. It's the price of success. T h e y have been used by so many who learned so much that all need overhaul in the near future. In fact, 1989 begins "Operation Preservation," to upgrade our fleet the way we upgraded our facilities this year. Please consider the unique and valuable knowledge we have provided and help us carry on w i t h a generous year-end contribution. $25, $50, $100, $500 or more from each C W B supporter will allow us to continue to accomplish our mission: to preserve and pass on our small craft heritage. — D i c k Wagner
Owner's Notebook
A BIG BOAT CAN COME IN A SMALL PACKAGE Todd Blakeley and his boat were made for each other. Watching him rig the sails as his little schooner gathers headway, you see a man totally in harmony with his vessel. His Dana Erin was built in 1979 in Sausalito by K i t A f r i c a , son of the redoubtable Spike. " M a y o r of the Pacific O c e a n . " Kit was w o r k i n g o n the refit of Wanderbird at the time and decided to build "the most complicated boat he could build in 20 feet," Todd says. K i t chose a fully-evolved racing version of the K i n g s t o n L o b s t e r Boat, using the lines on page 161 of Chapelle's American Small Sailing Craft. T h e y show a graceful hull with hollow garboards, gently rising floors, and a firm bilge. It has a sharp entry and a long r u n : its keel is straight w i t h a m a r k e d drag. T h e original lobsterboats had plank keels and centerboards. T h e racing models had shallow, moulded keels but kept the centerboards. K i t continued the evolution, eschewing the centerboard in favor of a deeper keel. Dana draws 32 inches, providing plenty of lateral plane. T h e r u d d e r is " h u m u n g o u s , " Todd says. T h e stem is uncompromisingly straight, as it was in the working lobsterboats, but the s t e r n is pure yacht: a steeply raked oval transom with a beautiful tumblehome. It's an easily-driven hull which gets its impressive stability from a 7-foot beam
and 700 pounds of lead ballast, a 400-pound pig inside and 300 pounds mortised into the keel. Chapelle's design is rigged as a spritsail ketch, but K i t chose to rig Dana as a schooner. There's an ample jib, a big boomless gaff-headed foresail that overlaps the mainmast and a boomed jib-headed main, quite a bit smaller than the fore. T h o u g h her rig height makes her a schooner, the distribution of her sail area recalls her ketch forebears. There's a single deep row of reefpoints on the main. In heavy weather, the lobstermen left their mizzens home, operating on mainsail alone. Todd figures that he can follow their example in heavy weather, striking the main and ultimately the jib. He also thinks jib and main alone, especially a reefed main, might give him an option the lobsterers never had
The major departure
However, the biggest difference b e t w e e n Todd's boat and the traditional model is that Dana has an inside. It's fully decked, bow to stern. T h e r e ' s a small cockpit well aft and a coachroofed cabin with the floorspace of a phone booth tucked neatly between mainmast and horn timber. With its sliding roof, the cabin could be considered a companionway with delusions of grandeur, or the nautical equivalent of the telephone alcove in your front hall, if it wasn't so completely fitted out. There's a small ceramic
pedestal for the stove in one corner, and a host of fold-down w o r k i n g surfaces. On one side there's a tiny countertop w i t h covered hatches in its top for silverware. On the other side there's a bookshelf that holds a baker's dozen paperbacks. T h e r e ' s even a pull-out cutting board of end-grain maple blocks, about the size
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BARGE (continued from page 1) At first sight, Van's new craft seems uncompromisingly slab-sided. M o r e than an ugly duckling, she is decidedly plain. On second look, certain admirable qualities emerge. H e r wood is high quality, a very important thing. A n d she's heavily built, planned to last. T h o u g h her broad bow transom is uncompromisingly square and flat, the beam narrows enough to save it from looking clumsy. T h e sheer is gentle, emphasized by the same curve in the cabin roof. T h e cabin is narrower forward and its sides curve in gently, paralleling the taper of the hull. Forward, the bow transom has a beautiful cutwater that has the profile of a classic clipper bow. It's designed to break up the oncoming waves so they don't slam into the bow as a single wall of water. As a final touch, it also supports an impressive 24-foot bowsprit, stepped at an angle that's decidedly jaunty for such a serious workboat. By this time, it's obvious that Van is w o r k i n g on beauty through simplicity, the boatbuilding equivalent of Shaker furniture. T h e compass will be mounted on the after bulkhead inside the cabin, visible to the helmsman through its own little window. T h i s was quite c o m m o n on commercial boats, since it saved the expense of a waterproof binnacle. Joshua Slocum used the same arrangement on Spray. W h e n Van uncovers the harp that will hold the steering wheel, fashioned after the one on Alma, the scow schooner in San Francisco's National Maritime M u s e u m , it's easy to see that the final product won't be too spartan. T h e spars are the giveaway. They're stored under the hull, out of the weather until they can be stepped.
B o o m jaws, gaff jaws and tumblers are already padded with the beautiful leatherwork that's so much a part of the Trader's charm.
An industrial-strength rig
T h e crowning charm will undoubtedly be the rig. Gaff-headed with topmasts, three headsails, topsails, and a big fisherman's staysail, the originals carried a lot of canvas. T h e i r broad beams made them stable and their hulls could be heavily driven. It took a lot of power to sail a high deckload of lumber or hay and with the throat of both booms hauled up to clear the cargo, a lot of the rig's power came from its high sails. To get a big enough base for the rig, the fore-
mast stepped just aft of the main bitts and all of the headsails set from the bowsprit. T h e main boom extended aft, beyond the stern. T h o u g h the skipper/owners didn't sail to schedules, it was only good commercial sense to get the fastest passage possible. A n d in San Francisco, as in the Straits of Juan De Fuca, there's often no shortage of wind. Van gives no hint that his rig will be more conservative. Right now, Van's giving no estimates of when he'll be done, but he did ask us to "tell Dick Wagner that we'll be bringing this down for next year's Wooden Boat F e s t i v a l . " — S t o r y and photos by C h a s D o w d
PACKAGE
(continued from page 2) of a three-by-five index card. There's a gim¬ balled kerosene lamp. T h e r e are four 2-1/2 inch portholes. There's a forward bulkhead, from the port side to midships. T h e open half is the entryway to the forecabin. It's about 30 inches wide and 35 high, but its lower threshold follows the curve of the hull. Since both forecabin and " s a l o o n " are fully ceiled and painted, the best way to negotiate this tiny opening is to grab the thwartships sill above it and swing your legs through, sliding in on your back. Once through, there's a surprising amount of room (remember that 7-foot beam) if you just want to lay down in the berth and admire the T & G doug fir strips and 1x1 carlins of the deck, just inches from your nose. T h e r e are canvas storage bags along the starboard side and, forward, a forepeak full of anchor chain and other miscellany. Eight round deck prisms provide a surprising amount
of light. Whether you call it cozy or claustrophobic is a matter of taste. Todd said that he'd had " m o r e than a hundred visitors on the boat, but you're one of only about 14 that went into the forecabin." W h e n I saw Dana at the Boat Show, it was love at first sight." Todd said. We could see why when we took the tiller. T h e deck has both crown and sheer. There's an anchor chocked d o w n forward and a Charley N o b l e on the portside. Fittings are severely traditional: the cleats are oak, the fairleads are bullseyes, and the blocks aloft have wooden shells and tarred rope strops. T h e craftsmanship that can be seen is impressive, creating a lot of confidence that it's where it can't be seen as well. With the two masts and their ample spread of sail, Dana has the feeling of a m u c h larger ship. W h e n she comes about, she has the stateliness that makes steering a schooner one of life's true joys.
T h o u g h Todd usually singlehands her, there's plenty to do for two. A p l a c e t o h a n g your h a t "I have a friend with a Banks D o r y . It's a real t r u c k — w e haul lumber and groceries in her all the time. He has 60 feet of halyard and one sheet maybe 25 feet l o n g . " Todd says. "I have three halyards, about 250 feet worth, three sheets totalling 80-plus feet, and a spinnaker. It's just incredible to sail. So far. I've sailed it down from Pt. Townsend and cruised in Lake Union. I'm going to spend next s u m m e r taking her to boat shows and down to South Sound. Someday I'd like to go up to the Canadian Gulf islands. A l l I want to do is simple sailing." " M y M o m wanted to know what I was going to do with it. 'It's just a toy, then?' she asked. ' N o , ' I said, "it's going to be a learning experience, just like going to s c h o o l . ' " To keep it from being "just a toy," Todd has found another use for His pocket schooner. Part of the time she's a liveaboard. T h o u g h it's hard to credit, Todd lived on her for a good part of the summer and once he completes reinstalling the stove and finishes some interior work, he plans on moving back. We had a friend who lived on a 20-foot sloop at the Shilshole marina. He said that as a result he decided never to own anything he couldn't leave out overnight in the rain. We asked Todd what he had learned, good and bad. living in such narrow quarters. "It's good for my budget," he replied. "You don't buy a lot of things 'cause there's no place to put 'em. Everything's close to hand. Really close. T h e only thing I don't like is always having to put my pants on laying d o w n . " "I'll say one thing for s u r e , " he said with satisfaction, "I sleep better than I've ever slept anywhere in my life." — S t o r y and photos by Chas D o w d — C a m e r a b o a t operator Horace Ingram
Cruiser's Log
LAID BACK PRINCE RUPERT; ISLAND-DOTTED AND FORGOTTEN BY TIME T h e y cling to the steep shore, their streets often boardwalks on pilings above a narrow beach. T h e s e are the towns along the Pacific Coast from the north end of Vancouver Island to Skagway. T h e y are found on islands more often than not and the ruling factor of their existence is a safe harbor. T h e s e settlements are isolated by the sea, the cloud-scraping mountains, and s o m e t i m e s even glaciers that pin them to the coast. T h e y fly the Stars and Stripes or M a p l e Leaf, but they may as well be independent city-states. T h e y are the Liechen¬ steins of the N o r t h Pacific. Prince Rupert. British Columbia is one of these lonely outposts. I reached Prince Rupert after four and a half days of sailing from Ketchikan, across D i x o n Entrance and Chatham Sound. T h e first night. I anchored among several small islands off Port Tongass along latitude 54 4 0 ' — t h e U . S . - C a n a d a border. L o t s of white shell beaches indicated native villages Once were there. N e x t I dropped the hook in Port Simpson, and then B i g Bay in the passage to Prince Rupert. T h i s is the territory of the
Tsimshian people, but it also is close (one to five days' paddle) to corners of the Tlingit to the north and Kwakiutl to the south. T h e Bella Coola and Athabaskan t o the east could be reached on the nearby Nass and Skeena Rivers. T h e Haida of the Queen Charlotte Islands are only 50 m i l e s — a c r o s s H e c a t e Strait, to the west. T h e T s i m s h i a n s prided themselves on their trading know-how. T h e y picked the right
territory.
Crossing the border T h e only town I passed by on the way to Prince Rupert was Port Simpson. It began as a Hudson's Bay Company trading post in 1834. T h e fort no longer exists, but a native village remains. Port Simpson is just inside the Canadian border. T h e day I crossed over. I threaded through a picket of gillnetters. A m e r i c a n and Canadian boats were strung out in an eastwest line a few miles long and about half a mile apart. It was the dotted boundary line on t h e chart, defined in real life by bobbing boats and cork float lines. As I made a tack across the bow of a classic West Coast 30-foot troller
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gillnetter, the skipper and I had a chance to chat. He found I was bound for Seattle. As I was just running out of earshot. I heard " O n l y 600 miles to g o ! " I sailed into the northwest corner of Prince Rupert Harbor just at moonrise. T h e full moon brought a fresh west wind. I doubled Tugwell Island in a rush, and sailed north into a quiet cove, dropping anchor about midnight. T h e morning's light northwest wind and flooding tide gave me a downhill ride through Venn Passage, the most enchanting harbor entrance I've seen. T h i s is a Japanese water garden of small islands and pinnacle r o c k s , requiring twists of course beyond count. At every turn a new vista of wind-stunted evergreens, grey pebble beaches, burnt sienna stone islands in slalom course order. T i n y Metlakatla village, centered on its white frame church, appeared at the head of a little cove halfway down the passage. T h i s is a dream area for small shallow draft boats, a nightmare for a deep vessel, and impossible in a fog. A last turn between two islands with the wind
RUPERT
THE SKIFF AND THE RIVER
(continued from page 3) following me at every turn, and there was Prince R u p e r t Harbor, big enough for the Seventh Fleet. A 2000-foot high wall of forested mountains framed the south shore and the town tenaciously hugged a fringe of beach just above high tide. I sailed across the harbor looking for C u s toms. E v e r y dock seemed packed with fishing boats. 1 was running along the edge of the pier head line looking for any living being who could give directions. I spotted a soul on a float I was fast a p p r o a c h i n g . " W h e r e ' s C u s t o m s ? " I shouted. " W h e r e v e r you s t o p , " he answered.
with samples of native culture, missionaries, and fishing all jumbled together. A m i d s t the pleasant confusion was a tiny theatre, continuously showing a delightful old film on halibut fishing, with dubbed — in narration and banjo music. To further confuse anyone hoping to make sense of this town, the C i t y Hall is Spanish Colonial architecture. T h e best Chinese restaurant is " B r a d ' s H a m b u r g e r s " (they never got around to changing the 1950s sign or decor). T h e town dump is a great bald eagle viewing site, and I picked up a restorable w o o d e n block plane there. A cable car to the 2,000-foot high moun-
by John Keats; paintings by M i c h a e l Ringer Published by the H e r r i c k Collection Paintings by M o n e t , H o m e r , Eakins and Van G o g h featuring small craft have given boats a certain rank and status in our cultural hierarchy. M u s e u m s such as M y s t i c Seaport, the M a r iner's M u s e u m , and Thousand Islands M u s e u m have put boats on display within their formal edifices, thereby adding m o r e legitimacy to small craft as part of our civilization w o r t h remembering. Some valuable books have been written on boats, most leaning heavy on the technical side: what they look like and how to build them. T h e r e still seems a gap to be filled in the story of the small boats of our past: the tales of the boats as part of the lives of those w h o used them. R e m e m b e r the f i l m " O n G o l d e n P o n d ? " T h e stars were Katherine H e p b u r n and H e n r y Fonda, with major supporting roles by a canvaso n - c e d a r canoe and v a r n i s h e d m a h o g a n y runabout. The Skiff and the River is the story behind the lines drawings and how-to-build books and faded photos of skiffs showing ladies in full skirts and parasols, and gents in bowlers and ties. T h i s book tells of the St. L a w r e n c e River, the Thousand Islands, the settlers, s u m m e r visitors, and the boats that became bonded to the place and i t s people. It's about the builders, hard scrabble farmers, guides, rich city folks, and entrepreneurs. It brings to life the folks with parasols and bowlers and the St. Lawrence skiff that was as integral to their lives as the river that flowed past their homes.
So I rounded, shot alongside, and tied up. At this point, I noticed signs plastered along the harborside of this float: " P r o p e r t y of Prince Rupert Rowing and Yachting Club, M e m b e r s O n l y ! ' ' A Prince Rupert Welcome T h e r e s e e m e d to be no space along the jammed moorages of the harbor for any more boats, so I walked to the club manager, rehearsing my pity-poor-me story. A burly guy in a tattered plaid shirt and big grin waved me silent and said "You must be Dick Wagner from the C e n t e r for Wooden Boats: pull up a chair." It was T i m Wright. Manager and C W B member, handling the unannounced arrival of a total stranger with the cheerful nonchalance of someone being offered a second cup of coffee. I had heard about the w a r m hospitality of the coastal towns, but this was the first time I actually found a laid-back human since leaving Juneau. Hospitality didn't end there. T h e C u s t o m s officer did find me where I stopped. He appropriated my apple supply for bug control reasons, and was on his way out of the cabin when I casually mentioned I'd been eating an apple a day. He inquired if I yet had my daily ration. W h e n I said no, he casually tossed me one and nipped off, wishing me a good stay in Prince Rupert. A n d it was. Prince Rupert Rowing and Yachting Club is as cluttered, funky, and comfortable as C W B , even through it is over 50 years old. Prince Rupert town was more of the s a m e — a good part of the waterfront street is rickety planking on piling over the high tide edge. T h e town museum is a clutter of historic bric-a-brac,
tain peak that backstops the town gave me not only a fabulous view of the whole territory, but a boardwalk tour of the fragile Alpine ecology. T i m took me to an abandoned old cannery on a nearby fjord. It's a town on pilings, including dormitory, cook house, company store, management cottages, office, net shed, and boatshop, all in velvety cedar with black water below and dark forest surrounding. Prince Rupert is on the outer f r i n g e , but if you have to wait for C u s t o m s to find you, I can't think of a better place. — S t o r y & photo by Dick Wagner
BROWNSTEIN PUTS IN THE FINAL PLANK On September 30, C a r l B r o w n s t e i n held a "whiskey plank" party, putting the shutter plank on the big Seward-design cutter we reported in the M a r c h SHAVINGS. C a r l has no idea when the launching will be. H i s part of the job was a finished hull which he is shipping to the new California owner w h o will complete the interior. " B u t whenever it goes in the water, I'm going down to w a t c h , " C a r l said. N o w that the cutter is complete, C a r l will be devoting more time to the interior of the Bolger Mocassin derivative. In addition, the people w h o he built the L y l e H e s s cutter hull for have finished its interior and C a r l is going to put a house on it. "I haven't seen it for about a y e a r , " he remarked. " I ' m eager to see what the owners have done." 4
T h e St. L a w r e n c e skiff is a long, lean, lapstrake, seaworthy, double-ended pulling boat. T h e book gives some details about construction, come valuable rowing know-how, and even hints on how to handle this boat under sail sans r u d d e r — b u t it's mostly about the people of the St. Lawrence using their favorite boat. There's President Ulysses S. Grant fishing from a skiff; there's a sailing race with one c o m petitor sending his big dog fore and aft on c o m mand to head up or fall of the wind; there's a little girl w h o finally takes her first proud c o m mand of a skiff after seasons learning to s w i m . Dark shops with cedar shavings, monster mus¬ kies lurking in the deep holes, scary moments lost in the fog, r u m runners are all woven into this rich chronicle. I w i s h there were m o r e books like this — m a y b e a series of boats telling stories about people—a kind of nautical Canterbury Tales. A t any rate, read it and you will fall in love with the Thousand Islands area and the St. Lawrence skiff. If you have the urge to build one, then read John G a r d n e r ' s Building Classic Small
Craft, Volume I.
— D i c k Wagner
Cruiser's Loo
FROM SHELTON TO THE CENTER: WIND, TIDE, AND MUCH ROWING Last year, L'Insurgente thought she was going to grow up to be a M c K e n z i e River Boat after her trip from Fall City to Edmonds. T h i s past winter, during her overhaul, she kept maundering on about more ambitious plans. To humor her. Barbara and I drove her down to Pt. Johnson (between Nisqually and Olympia) and rowed to Squaxin Island for an overnight camp. Squaxin is as charming as reported by the D o w d s . and didn't have mosquitoes. T h e following morning we explored the south tip of the island and up the western side for a circumnavigation of H o p e Island. C o m i n g back put us against a strong tide — w i t h no wind. It w a s Barb's longest row. about six hours, and it proved to her something I discovered earlier: rowing is much like hiking. Once you get through that first hour, you can go all day. T h e next day. of course, you may discover aches in places where you didn't even know you had places.
much ebb time downstream as possible. 1 had chosen a day with a weaker than normal ebb to avoid any real fireworks, but I was clearly fighting a current for the first hour. T h e r e was a little time when I wasn't sure, then I was suddenly flying along past eddies and rips—shooting out the end with at least 2.5 knots going for me beyond what I could generate with my oars. W i t h a w i n d against current, that entrance might be a nasty place — a n d it is the devil to find from seaward. I couldn't pick it out rowing away from half a mile off. I allowed two days for my trip from the bottom of the Sound to the C W B float. That is 65 miles as the navigator flies, and my speed of advance under oars is 2-1/2 knots. I had planned to go with the t i d e — t h e r e is no other way I could get through the N a r r o w s . E v e n then, a
(and nearest bathroom) are up a long steep hill from the dock. T h e r e is a $7 camping fee on top of a $4 moorage fee. Happily, with a little re-arrangement of her gear. L'Insurgente contains one comfortable b e r t h — w e l l , fairly c o m fortable berth, as long as it doesn't rain. It didn't. I cleared the spit at 6:30 a.m. with forty miles to go, eight before I could enter the N a r r o w s on the first of a mild ebb at 9:30. Naturally, my southwesterly was gone—never to return. Rowing across C a s e Inlet, w h e r e I had conned a destroyer on the acoustic range in the winter of 1964, brought back old memories. I stood through Hale Passage, fighting a flood that turned ebb just beyond the Fox Island bridge. It was 8:30 a.m. w h e n I passed under the span. T h e weekday morning roar of c o m muter traffic was more than a little satisfying. I
That pleasant outing proved my downfall. L'Insurgente had seen the South Sound. She has made the trip from Seattle to Port T o w n send (The birth of her hubris. I fear), so going south seemed a logical extension. Olympia is typically viewed as the bottom of the Sound, but a glance at a chart reveals that Shelton is farther back in the fingers that represent the final encroachment of sea into land. Barbara saw what I was up to and had better sense. Just L'Insurgente and I slipped out of the driveway at 6:30 am to beat rush hour traffic south. T w o hours later. I located the unpaved mud-and-gravel slope between the Shelton Yacht C l u b and the Simpson booming ground which is the city's public boat ramp. It is only usable at high tide, and that was fast approaching. T h e ramp has a very gradual slope, so it's difficult to launch without submerging your car. O n c e afloat, I beached the boat and parked the car in the weeds.
H a m m e r s l e y seems like a c u r v i n g deepwater river running between deeply undercut clay banks. At the western end, near Shelton, it flows through suburbia, with the larger homes slowly giving way to vacation cottages, then to rural stretches with forest and marsh punctuated by "developments" near the S bend leading to the lower Sound. A l o n g the way, I had to steer aside to make r o o m for a tug towing an empty log boom string, and had seen the first of many seals to investigate my progress.
strong north wind could make it a chancy proposition in an open eighteen-foot boat. I was counting on some southerlies to help me along. Day One went according to plan. I rowed down the six mile passage, riding out on the first of the ebb. then had to buck a stiff breeze across familiar ground to the south end of Squaxin where a fair wind and max ebb carried me a mile and a half during lunch. A beam reach past Johnson Point turned into a sleigh-ride around Devils Bluff and up Drayton Passage in a series of windy rain squalls on an otherwise perfect summer day. Four hours' sailing brought me up through Pitt Passage west of M c N e i l and around Penrose Point on the Key Peninsula, where there is a large, lovely, and relatively undiscovered state park with excellent marine facilities.
The Inlet generates some stiff currents, up to three knots near the eastern end. Two hours before max ebb at the Narrows, Hammersley is still flooding into Shelton, nearly an hour past high tide in Shelton Bay. T h e eastern half of its channel is beginning to ebb. and the ebbs on down the line are already well in progress. I started against the last of the flood to get as
For the bigger guys, there are buoys on both sides of the point. T h e point and a good sized chunk of land at the head of the bay to the southwest of the point provide room to stretch your legs further than in most marine parks. T h e float, tucked out of sight behind a small spit near the m a r i n a i s v e r y w e l l p r o t e c t e d . Camper cruisers will find that the camp-grounds
Returning. I discovered that I forgot to put the drain plug in the transom. An inauspicious beginning. But in ten minutes I had her bailed and sponged dry. and was crossing the harbor to meet the last of the flood flowing in Hammersley Inlet.
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was down here in my boat with the seals. They were up there on their way t o work, T h e turn from Hale into the N a r r o w s is a rather indistinct rounded point. I kept thinking I was there, only I wasn't. Finally, about 9:30. I could see the full shoreline leading to the bridge, and knew I was on my way. H e r e , I was grateful that there was no wind. Anything from the north would have been rough with the current running already. T h e N a r r o w s currents can stop a small boat going the wrong way. and can be hazardous even for a "friendly". I was going out on a lesser ebb, and max flow was to be 2.9 knots a little after I passed by. A n y good current chart will show you some tricks to the N a r r o w s going either way. T h e ebb starts running on the west side at the sough end while the rest of the channel is still flooding, all except the east side of the north part, where there is a counter-current close inshore throughout the flood. Similarly, on the ebb. the north west portion has a back eddy that barely reverses at max ebb. W h e n going north on the early ebb. as I did. start on the west and cross sharply over at
(continued on page 6)
SATORI AT THE OARS: ZEN AND THE ART OF ROWING Last year, after the Boat Show, we got a letter from one of our readers who said that he liked reading SHAVINGS but that he didn't understand our use of the word "zen" to describe the joys, of rowing. "I used to rent rowboats at the old Haury's marina in West Seattle and go out fishing with my Dad. There was nothing in rowing those boats that I could call 'zen'." he wrote. In the strict sense, he shouldn't have been surprised. T h e r e is a vast difference between rowing and rowing to go fishing. Rowing out to fish is a little like meditating for money. Still, mindful of his criticism, we stopped using the word. N o w after two s u m m e r s of silence we find that it's time to reconsider, to reexamine the relationship between rower and the cosmos. N o b o d y has ever provided a nice tidy explanation of what zen is. But zen has always been clear about its goal: to produce an enlightened mind that can rise above values to see the true nature of things. A l o n g the way. it influenced martial arts, flower arranging, ink painting and architecture. It created an esthetic manifested in a love of nature, a concern for simplicity, precise ritual, and enlightenment through meditation. L o o k i n g at these manifestations and their relationship to rowing, we may find enough points of agreement between western rowing and eastern mysticism to restore a useful word to the SHAVINGS lexicon. Love of Nature—This is the easy one. Anybody rowing is going to be confronted by nature in carload lots. First, rowers don't scare any of it away. Undeterred by engine noise or chemical odors in the water, seals surface close at hand, affable as neighborhood dogs and looking a bit like them, too. Z e n sages used nature as a textbook, urging their disciples to draw parallels between the natural world and their teachings. M o r e than once, Stroke O a r and I have watched a m u r r e hunting in a school of herring. T h e bird dives and the water begins to boil as fish shoot to the surface to avoid it. T h e n the bird surfaces and the fish dive. B i r d down, fish up; bird up. fish down. Y i n and yang all the way. A n d a rower had better like nature a lot. In a small open boat, there's nowhere to go that gets you out of it. Simplicity—Another easy one. A rowboat is oarlocks, stretchers, and a seat or two, surrounded by just enough wood to keep the water out. By comparison, the average child's tricycle is high technology. That's not to imply that a good rowboat isn't elegant. Haury's marina rented distinctly inelegant rowboats which may have contributed to our correspondent's inability to find peace rowing them. T h e two simplest tools in man's devising are crowbars and oars. Not only do they operate on the same principle, they seem to weigh about the same after a six-hour row. Ritual—Launching The Lady Deb is a practice as carefully regulated as the tea ceremony. Oars are loaded, the duffle stowed, the oarlocks socketed, and the sunblocker jammed between the portside seat riser and the planking. Just before we launch. Stroke O a r dons a
pair of hip boots originally designed for K i n g K o n g so she can wade out and slide the boat off the trailer. On a hot summer day. w h e n the skippers of Plasticraft Pleasureboats and their families are splashing barefoot in the sunwarmed water of the launch ramp getting wet to the knees, it looks like overkill. However, in late spring or early fall when sun-warmed water is nowhere to be found, we launch with exactly the same procedure. T h e Plasticrafters. dulled
there was a vast difference between the crew of his ship w h e n they're sitting around the Sons of N o r w a y H a l l and w h e n they're seeking the wily halibut in the Gulf of A l a s k a . His skipper responded with a modest statement that couldn't have been bettered by D a r u m a . the monk who brought zen from China to Japan. T h u s spake the Norwegian-zen-halibut-fisherman-sage: " W e old fishermen, we don't know so m u c h . A l l we know is that after the storm, comes the calm: after the calm comes the s t o r m . "
0m.
Story and illustration by Chas D o w d
SHELTON
(continued from page 5) the point north of the bridge where the N a r rows bends. I cut across diagonally and missed a good deal of the best ride. L a t e r on the ebb you get your best boost along the eastern shore — a n d you needn't cross in the middle of a relatively narrow ship channel with restricted sight distance and fast-moving ships.
and irritable, hunt for boots which always prove too short or inch precariously along the beams of their trailer trying to worry the boat off without falling in. M o r e often, they don't even go boating between September and May. Meditation—We've talked about this before: the wonderful peace of mind that conies after a couple of hours at the oars. Haste is useless: you can't hurry a ten mile row. If it rains, you'll get wet; if the sun shines, you'll get hot. If the wind comes up. rowing will get harder. If some yoyo in a speedboat comes roaring down the Sound at you, he'll either hit you or miss you. With his thirty knots against your three and a half, there's no effective way to evade him. Rowing is a wonderful chance to accept things as they are which is, if you think about it, one of the goals of meditation. One day I hope that my hours at the oars will somehow gift me with the zen adept's "outreaching awareness," the ability to comprehend the totality of everything happening around me. T h e n I might not have to spend so much time looking back over my shoulder to see where I'm going. In zen monastaries, monks practice a discipline called misogi rhythmically shaking a bell and chanting for hours until they pass the point of physical exhaustion, transcend it, and are carried along by their spiritual resources. Rowing, repetitive and rhythmic, is an excellent secular western substitute. E l s e w h e r e in this issue Jim Sand mentions "that once you get through that first hour, it feels like you can go on all day." I think I'll rest my case with that. No good exposition on T h e Way of the Small Craft would be complete without a little parable. Zen masters were remarkable practitioners of the simple statement with cosmic resonance. In early M a r c h , there was a radio interview with a young halibut fisherman during the Blessing of the Fleet. T h i s young man remarked that 6
I found the N a r r o w s over-rated, but this was a calm day and an easy, friendly current. F o r small open boats and engineless vessels generally, it is a spot to be treated with respect. N o r t h through C o l v o s Passage west of Vashon, the current is always ebbing or slack. I found nearly as good a ride through there as I had in the Narrows. T h e r e is not a great deal more to say about a fourteen hour row on a virtually windless sunny s u m m e r day. T h e rhythm sets in early. T h e r e are herons and seals and porpoises and endless miles of forest-lined shore. Intermittent extravagant homes clinging to impossible cliffs—a strange waterfront sprawl of houses on the Tacoma s h o r e — t h e bridge—five zillion fishing boats off Point Defiance (I counted). T h e r e is the rhythm and a certain detachment from the world which is more to be felt than explained. It felt good. I was delayed most of an hour at the locks but the actual locking through went smoothly. It was darkness and time for the inaugural use of my running lights by the time 1 finished the pull down Lake Union. Dick and a half-dozen others waited behind the welcoming lights of the shop. It was a good thing I arrived in condition for more. Barb had enjoyed her row enough to commit us to a C W B outing for that weekend in my absence. T h e day after I arrived home. I was back on Lake U n i o n fighting a thirty knot headwind to take L'Insurgente up to the north end ramp. T h e next morning we were on our way to La C o n n e r for an exploration of the Skagit Flats which involved another six hours at the looms. L'Insurgente loved that trip. It gave h e r a chance to boast to The Lady Deb and her other boatshow friends about what she had just done. — S t o r y by Jim Sand, photo by Chas D o w d
Historical Note on L'Insurgente, page 8
CALENDAR OF EVENTS November 18 C W B Monthly Meeting 8 p.m., C W B Boatshop " U p s and D o w n s in World Class Rowing"-Frank Cunningham. e x - H a r v a r d rower, coach at L a k e side School, and present coach of Lake Washington Rowing Club and some top-rate scullers, has said. " M y life has been shaped this past 55 year's by rowing." He will tell us how it all began, and stories of the situations and characters he was involved with along the way. D e c e m b e r 16 CWB Monthly Meeting T h e r e will be no meeting in December. Instead we hope to see you at the First Annual Frostbite Regatta on D e c e m b e r 31. December 31 First Annual Frostbite Row/Sail Regatta and new building inauguration Beginning at 10 a.m., CWB Site Rate registration 10-12:30. skipper's meeting 12:15. rowing race 12:55, potluck lunch 1:30, sailing race 2:30, awards 4:00. Those who wish may stay and see the N e w Year in with us. See page 8 or please call if you have any questions. January 2 0 C W B Monthly Meeting 8 p.m., C W B Boatshop M a r t y L o k e n , an internationally recognized expert in marine photography, will give a slide talk on small boats of Italy. T h e s e are some of the watercraft he saw on a recent assignment for the Italian yachting magazine A q u a .
COMMENTS FROM OUR VISITORS In the c r o w d e d , often sawdust befogged entry of our boatshop is a visitors guest book. Impressed we are that many of our visitors actually find the book, blow off the dust, and sign in. E v e n more delightful to the Board and Staff is many of the visitors also jot d o w n their impression of the Center. H e r e are some of the comments written this year: "All I hoped for & more." Carol A n n Churchill. Chapel Hill, North Carolina "Beautiful. My six-year-old son very impressed." John Baker, Seattle, Washington "Great, friendly, warm & crafty." Jeffery L i n d s t r o m . Seattle. Washington "I loved it. I always do. every time we come." Lacher, Batavia. Illinois.
M A R I N E S K I L L S WORKSHOPS
December 10 thru December 17 Lapstrake Workshop 8 : 3 0 til 5 p.m. each d a y , CWB Boatshop Fee: S 3 6 0 / S 4 0 0 Instructor: Alan Del Rey T h e class will build a 10-foot Swampscott doryskiff. T h e instructor designed this boat as a yacht tender, and has built several. Woodworking skills are required. M a x i m u m of seven students. January 7 Plane Making Workshop 9 a.m. til 5 p.m., CWB Boatshop Fee: $ 7 0 / $ 7 5 Instructor: Charlie M a s t r o Students will build and keep a wooden block plane. M a x i m u m of six students. January 9 , 1 1 , 1 6 , 1 8 , 2 3 , 2 5 Introduction to Model Making 6 : 3 0 p.m. til 8 : 3 0 p.m., C W B Boathouse (new building) Fee: $ 6 0 / $ 7 5 Instructor: Jim Gass An introduction to the art of model making, to guide one past the hurdles and quicksand that often stop a builder from ever completing the project. February 20 thru 25 and February 27 thru March 4, Launch March 5 Lofting and Lapstrake Construction 8 : 3 0 a.m. til 5 : 0 0 p.m., C W B Boatshop Fee: $ 5 5 0 / $ 6 0 0 Instructor: E r i c Hvalsoe T h e class will loft C W B ' s 15-foot Lake O s w e g o rowing boat from a table of offsets, set up for construction, and build this lapstrake double ender. E r i c Hvalsoe is an experienced builder, and frequent instructor. Basic woodworking skills are a prerequisite. Class is limited to six students.
"You are doing wonderful things." C y r i l & Madeline Howell. M i d C y l a m . Wales
Class Registration page 8
"Like nothing I've ever seen! Beautiful!" Kendall Roper. Portland. O r e g o n
FOR S A L E 26-foot Seabird y a w l — T h o m a s F l e m i n g Day. Beautiful blue water cruiser. Built 1935. F i r - o n fir. hard chined, iron fastened, five sails, outboard, dinghy, wood stove, depth sounder, sleeps three. G o o d condition. G i v e away at $6,500. L o c a t e d in Bellingham. C a l l Dale in Seattle 206-784-8475 (please leave a message). William Garden's E E L 18-1/2 foot canoe yawl, cold molded in cedar and mahogany by Schooner C r e e k Boat Works. Tan bark sails, anchor, battery, and trailer. $4,900. Can deliver. 503-755-9322. FOR S A L E Beautiful 24-foot wood cruising sloop, full keel hull, built 1947 by H i r a m Walker. Ballard boatbuilder. Yellow cedar on oak, mahogany cabin, Spruce spars, Yanmar d s l . , 17 gal. fuel. Galley with wood stove, ice box, 30 gal. water. Interior refinished, new upholstery, head, sleeps 3. 4 s a i l s — 2 new. well equipped and fastidiously maintained. $7,500. C a l l 206-322-3284 or 206-486-1571. COSINE WHERRY KIT Complete—excellent winter project for the discriminating builder. $800. Brian 206-643-5793, 206-655-4285. Dear Santa.
"Nothing compares to wooden boats!" M a r t i n Connolly. M a y o r . Galway. Ireland
"I want to stay here!" Patsy Woicek, Whitewater. Wisconsin
SECTION
December 3 Intermediate Woodworking Workshop 9 a.m. til 5 p.m., CWB Boatshop Fee: $40/$45 Instructor: Charlie M a s t r o T h i s follows the Basic Class and covers sharpening, maintenance and use of hand tools. T h e class will make wood joints with hand tools. M a x i m u m of six students.
March 18 thru 2 5 , Launch March 26 Lapstrake Construction 8 : 3 0 am. til 5 p.m., CWB Boatshop Fee: $ 1 0 0 / $ 4 5 0 Instructor: Simon Watts T h e class will build a 10-foot N o v a Scotia lapstrake dinghy. Simon Watts, nationally known for his woodworking skills, has devoted his time to teaching lapstrake construction for the past five years. Basic w o o d w o r k i n g know-how is required. Class limit is seven students.
"Feels like home!" Susan Brockett. Bergen. Norway
CLASSIFIED
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CWB has been a good little museum this year. Lots of people have had fun riding in our neat old boats, and lots more learned how to build them. Hardly any fell in the lake or cut a finger. When you write your gift list, we hope you think of us. We would like a desk-top copy machine, a runaround-town car or small truck, a 15 hp outboard motor that works, a carousel slide projector, hand held VHF radios, a portable TV and VCR, and a small forest of cedar, fir and spruce. Please remember. Santa, your gifts are tax deductible. Your good friends at CWB
Historical Note: L'Insurgente is a French word. It is pronounced LANCERGENT with a very soft "G" and the accent on "Gent." It means "insurgent" or rebel. The original L'Insurgente was a forty gun frigate launched by revolutionary France about 1795 and alleged to be the fastest ship of her day. Thomas Truxtun, often called the father of the American Navy, had the good fortune to run her down off St. Kitts on February 9, 1799. with USS Constellation, 36. The ensuing action was the first of the single ship frigate actions upon which the Navy built its reputation between then and 1815. L'Insurgente struck after 75 minutes and heavy casualties, leaving Constellation virtually unscarred. She was taken into our navy as USS Insurgente and made one long war cruise to Europe and South America in 1799-1800 before undergoing a major refit at Baltimore. In July of 1800, under Captain Patrick Fletcher, she sailed for a patrol station south and west of Bermuda where she was to remain for two to four months guarding the approaches to our coast for the homeward bound China trade. She was never seen again. Three-hundred-forty men went down with the first U.S. Navy ship lost at sea. Constellation, of course, may still be seen along the downtown waterfront in Baltimore, not far from where she was launched. One of the commemorative coins struck from her salvaged copper spikes during a 1950s refit is set into the foremast step of my own L'Insurgente.
REGATTA FINALE C W B will inaugurate what we hope will become an annual year-end event. While the couch potatoes are settling in for terminal football, we are offering a vigorous alternative: a rowing and sailing regatta at C W B on Saturday, D e c e m b e r 31. Registration begins at 10 a.m. T h e skippers' meeting will be 12:15. T h e rowing race start is 12:55. A pot luck lunch will begin after the rowing race. T h e sailing start is at 2:30. Awards will be given at 4:00, followed by a clinic on hypothermia, and a celebration of our achievements of the past year and bright hopes for the new year. T h e r e is no scheduled wrap-up time for the party. T h i s epilogue of '88 may become the prelude act of '89.
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A CWB WORKSHOP WOULD BE A VERY SPECIAL CHRISTMAS GIFT. WE ALSO OFFER GIFT CERTIFICATES FOR MERCHANDISE OR ROWING/SAILING TIME OR LESSONS. GIVE US A C A L L OR DROP A LINE. N O T E : Fees indicate m e m b e r s non-members cost. Save money by becoming a C W B m e m ber when you register. M e m b e r s h i p in the C e n ter entitles you to receive special discounts on boat use and workshops, our bi-monthly newsletter S H A V I N G S , and invitations to our special m e m b e r events all year. M e m b e r s h i p fees: $10 Senior/Student: $20 Individual: $30 Family. R E G I S T R A T I O N : Please return this form with your class fee to the C e n t e r for Wooden Boats, 1010 Valley Street. Seattle, WA 98109. Please call 206-382-2628 if you have questions. $100 deposit required for all boatbuilding workshops. Fees refundable.