Its been a few months since we looked at the development of last winters Doryman kayak build. Wild Rose has been outfitted with outriggers so that she can now be paddled or rowed. Being only fifteen feet long, she is quick off the line, though takes concentration to track well under oars.
All said, I am very pleased with this little boat. She weighs 65 pounds and is easy to load on top of a car, yet carries up to 300 pounds of payload. The rowing option is to accommodate my aching shoulders, which I suspect might appeal to others, as well.
Leo Newberg, who designed the original of this kayak, and Rick Johnson, the shipwright who leads the Family Boat Build at our local Toledo Wooden Boat Show, were impressed enough by the changes Ive made to implement them in the show this year. These changes include a new, more graceful shearline and an open, more accessible cockpit. Wild Rose is currently in Leos capable hands, having her lines taken.
This kayak will be the centerpiece of the Family Boat Build at the Toledo Wooden Boat Show, August 16th and 17th, 2014. Follow the link above to the Port of Toledo, Oregon website, for more information about signing up. There will also be a "kids build" this year, with a smaller, simpler kayak for the little ones. Be sure to get your name in soon, August is just around the corner.
More photos of Wild Rose can be found on Dorymans Flickr Site.
Youve heard me speak of Drift Creek before. The last six miles of this coastal creek are tidal, which this time of year means exploration as high into the forest as a boat can go. The tide yesterday was a whopping twelve foot drop, so a few die-hard mariners ventured up stream at mid-day.
From the start, it was apparent we had missed the incoming tide. Perhaps the winter rain run-off had canceled the incoming current, because we paddled for two hours in what was, to all appearances, still water.
But when the tide turned it was a different story. We were still headed upstream, looking for a beautiful waterfall we had seen earlier in the year, though the rush of water headed out to sea had a different agenda. About five miles up the creek, we turned around and by the time we arrived back at the mouth of Drift Creek, where it empties into the Alsea River, the water level had dropped three feet and was running at two knots.
Despite the freezing weather - or perhaps because of it - the water and the forest had a beckoning beauty and incredible stillness. With no wind, it was completely silent. One could sit still and hear absolutely nothing. Such a feeling of sensory deprivation is both eerie and wonderful.
It was a perfect day to try out the brand new Doryman kayak. Im no kayaker yet, so will need to practice more to give a full report of her capabilities. She sure looked pretty.
This kayak could be called a freighter. She is beamy and voluminous. There was little chance she would perform as well as Curts bright yellow sea kayak. But (sorry Curt) she has more class, more narrative.
Heres a shot of Curt behind me. I must have turned around sooner.
All agreed this was a wonderful winter day on the water, despite the frosty conditions.
Thanks to Shalline for photos of the Doryman Kayak.
Chuck and Shallines new canoe is a Loon 16. Its built of hand-laid fiberglass with wood inlays inside. A high performance vessel, no doubt.
As always, the most enthusiastic mariner was Lucy the Dog, with Jim in Lazy Duck. I want to show you her most prominent position. Please note the tail. It never stops. I envy her happy enthusiasm.
Lucy the Dog from doryman on Vimeo.
For pictures of the kayak build, please visit Dorymans Flickr site.
Traditional Kayaks & The Lincoln Street Kayak & Canoe Museum
About twenty years ago, I was living in Portland, Oregon, attending college (for the third time) to earn a degree in architecture. Someone told me I should grow up and have a career. Having tried this path before, I knew the lure of building and adventuring in boats was my true love and would be difficult to abandon.
So, I was thrilled one night, at dinner with a friend, to be asked to build a lapstake tender for his old catboat. Since moving to the Portland area, I had not built any boats, so when it came time to make a mast and sprit, a search was on for some adequate spruce lumber. I stopped into Cross-Cut, the local specialty wood warehouse and immediately fell into conversation with a young salesman named Harvey who was even more excited about my project than I was.
It turned out, the warehouse, which sold every type of wood imaginable, had an empty storage loft upstairs. Harvey was teaching himself to build kayaks up there. I didnt know then and perhaps he didnt either, that he would pursue his hobby with a passion until he became the worlds preeminent expert on arctic kayaks. Over the years, his friends have watched in wonder as he filled his home (in a re-purposed neighborhood store) with authentic kayak replicas. It was a museum in the making, with boats in every corner and hanging from the ceiling, nearly forcing the family out on the street.
Well, Harvey has now opened a true museum a few blocks from his home, in yet another old store. Yesterday afternoon, I joined my friends, the Coots, for an organized visit. Oh, my! It was a wonder of the world!
I couldnt begin to describe it here. If you are anywhere near Portland, OR, you must visit. Harvey is a quiet, unassuming, walking encyclopedia of ancient traditional boatbuilding methods. He built most of his replicas himself (70 or 80? were not sure), true in every detail, with contextual adjustments made when substituting synthetic materials for animal hides. He has made every effort to make these replicas appear and most importantly, perform like the originals. He has tested each design, in personal voyages of discovery.
Harvey is also aesthetical:
" In a more abstract sense, kayak replicas have a great appeal to my imagination and intellect. Their forms and construct inspire awe and genuine wonderment--especially when one considers the harsh context of their origin, and the phenomenal diversity of their forms. Launching a replica kayak is much like stepping into a time machine: It drops you into a different time, culture, and experience as you leave the shore-- you realize that the original kayak, now gathering dust in the backrooms of some museum, once gave somebody much the same feel on the water that you are now experiencing."
I encourage you to contact Harvey on his museum website. The history and construction methods, with photos, of all known arctic kayaks can be found there. He has also written a book with descriptions of each type, augmented with detailed line drawings. Hes about to publish another and were looking forward to that.
His collection is the largest and most diverse of traditional kayak forms in the world, representing the Koryak, Chukchi, Unangan (Aleut), Yupik, plus Inupiaq/Inuit and Kalaallit (Greenland) cultures.
The lighting in the museum was a challenge, but I got a few decent photos, which Ive uploaded to the Doryman Flickr site, with descriptions (as best I could from a short visit). Needless to say, I will be going back.
