1960s OLD TOWN CANOE: PADDLIN' FOR THE LIFE OF IT
It isn't easy to describe a 1960s Old Town Canoe, canvas-on-cedar, in everyday terms, but I will try...The Hull is a shell of birchbark. basswood, dug out. cedarstrip and canvass. some fiberglass, Kevlar foam. The Keel is a sturdy strip of basswood from bow to stern, that is best described as "very even"...it is so stable that a large dog can jump into it full-steam-ahead, and it will only wobble a tiny bit! It's inwale and outwale gunwales are basswood, the stern thwart the center thwart, and the stern and bow decks, and the stern and bow seats are too. The seats are caned. It trims nicely, and takes on little bilge. These bits of facts don't do it justice, tho...It's canvas, on my canoe, is a deep water-green at present, and the tumblehome and floor of it are like a lion's fur, all tawny and with the sheen of an animal like that. People who pass it in dry dock tend to become absorbed by the play of the sun on the golden brown of the ribs and planking...she is a lovely craft, and she seats three comfortably, four, if two of them are small children...
She was designed for both Family Use and racing, so, stable as she is, she is a racer. She glides forward like a seal, and makes turns on a dime!..
Paddles: I love the hardwood, square-tipped paddle, since I'm usually in the stern. I am not a naturally-good paddler, but I usually wind up in the stern because I am so serious and sincere about my job in a canoe, that I'm the one who can keep the course. It takes all my energy, though, because I'm not an efficient paddler, in spite of a couple of series of lessons since I've had this canoe. Now I have to learn the bow. it's harder for me. I always feel in every muscle that I'm goin' to tumble forward and out. not a great feelin'! The beaver-tail paddle is the best for the bow paddler, but I don't know why. The length of each of them is about up to one's chest....
She actually isn't just mine. My friend and I purchased her for $1000, in great shape. She paid it all. I put in a whole summer's work with Pops in his back yard, repairing and repainting the canvas exterior and sanding every inch of the wood and maritime varnishing it all until she became the canoe she is. We named her Artemis Dancing...now, Den and I call her Sweet William, afer my Dad...he refurbished her and painted her green. she had been water-blue...but she had been in storage for over ten years...he put a lot of work into her. so, I purchased her completely: now she is Den's and my canoe....
The stroke I most prefer is the Canadian stroke, which is very beautiful to do and to see. It's a variation of the basic J stroke. With the J stroke you can travel in a straight line as well as do inside turns with a pry away at the stern. The Canadian stroke is sometimes called knifing...most of its steering action comes from pulling up hard against the water as the paddle is knifed forward. It's very efficient, but its hard to master it. I never have actually mastered it. Steering is a bit counter-intuitive, really. See, the canoe always veers away from the paddle side if you don't put enough steering action into your stroke. So, for example, if you want to turn sharply away from your paddle side, you have to just stick to a forward stroke. You don't put any steering action into your stroke. To turn more sharply, you have to sweep your paddle wide in an arc. That's the sweep stroke, and that action can be a whopper of an arc! But it doesn't, while you are executing some of the stroke, make a lot of sense!
Another fun stroke is the Indian Stroke. You use it to sneak up on resting birds and animals, or in a strong wind. You should use it in rapids, too, but I'm rarely in rapids, as rocks in the flow would cut through the canvas and the canoe would sink in short order! Quiet water is what a canvas on wood canoe is all about. So, the Indian stroke is an underwater stroke kind-of like the Canadian stroke. As the paddle knifes forward, you rotate the grip of it in the palm of your upper hand. That rotation makes it possible to bring the paddle around, ready for the next power stroke without taking the blade out of the water. You are really in more control throughout the entire stroke, and it is very quiet, with no sound from the paddle. You should be downwind from the animal or birds too, or they'll shy away just from a whiff of you, even if you're not making any noise. Sometimes, though, animals get curious about you and the canoe, even if you're not too quiet. That's a special time with them....
Bow strokes are the best ones for pivoting, especially if the paddler is sitting in the center...then you can turn even a 360 degree turn within the length of the canoe! Stationary bow prys are necessary to get-a-grip-on, as well. You pry away from the canoe, using the gunwale as a fulcrum, feather in, pry away...it looks awkward, but it works. There are side-slips and back-paddling, and bow sweeps and braces, and lots of other strokes to learn and refine...but those are the basics I learned. I'm not great at any of them, but they've seen me through some fun and interesting trips through the years!
Trimming The Canoe. Ah yes. This set of techniques is based on the Big No NO: the stern must not ride lower than the bow. The stern digging into the water flow causes lots of problems. When traveling forward, the canoe steers more easily if it rides slightly higher in the bow. "Slightly" is the key word here. Almost every one rides a little stern -heavy, but its important to try to seat in such a way, even right up to the stern thwart if necessary, in order to keep the canoe 'trimmed'. which means, level in the water as possible, otherwise the canoe will slew out of control. then both paddlers will have to power paddle like crazy just to make any headway. and, any rapids, even little fellows, that will be almost impossible to maneuver...
That's what paddling is all about, when you are a rank amateur as I am! I certainly wouldn't guarantee that any of the information I've told you so far about what paddling a canoe is all about, is at all accurate. It is simply what I can recall, and experiences in the waters of 'quiet' rivers, estuaries, lakes, reservoirs, marshes, and even in the currents of the San Francisco Bay from Richmond Harbor to Brooks Island have been decently maneuvered by my practice of what little I know...I've been lucky to have never capsized, although I learned how to save myself and the canoe in a swimming pool - twice! I did spend a couple of trips upside down a bit (or a lot) in a river kayak, but fortunately the Eskimo Roll actually works, if you can just get into an eddy...
So. Adventures! Canoe Adventures began for me at age eleven, or maybe twelve, at the YWCA Summer Camp near my home in Illinois. For three or four summers I spent blissful summer-camp-time swimming. doing crafts and arts. eating and sleeping away from home. singing songs around the campfire. and, Canoe-ing. Being in a canoe on the "lake", which was actually a very large pond with a little island in the center, was heaven for me. I loved taking out the canoe by myself during our 'free' hour, and just exploring the little water world of the camp, its turtles. its lively, small fish. the water reeds and cat-tails. the algae. the breezes on the water. the magical feel to the sweet little overgrown island in the center. I loved every single canoe class as well! It was Young Girl Heaven!
I can't remember more than a couple of canoe excursions after that. until my senior year of high school. They were all on lakes in Wisconsin, where my father would take us all on fishing vacations with him. We, or more often, I, would fish with him in the early morning. catching fish. or not. fly-casting into the quiet morning lake over and over and over again. My mom's fishing time with him was usually early evening. Until late dinner, my sister and I would lie about on the dock or in the grass or, sometimes sand. We would read, write. and occasionally, we would take out one of the old aluminum canoes into the lake. we'd explore around a bit. It was lazy paddling. just for fun.
Then my First Love, Den, and I took one trip down and up the Fox River in St. Charles, Illinois. It was one of the highlights of my true youth! I was happy with him and I was happy on the river. I wanted to be a River Rat! I wanted to canoe every river that ever there be! the birds. the water. the sweet current. the homes I had never seen in our town, clinging to the river shore as only a river home can - tethered to the whims and moods of the flowing water. the clouds overhead. the sounds of the canoe and the paddles, The River World came alive to me and for me and him! This was a bliss of sorts! I loved it....
Then came dry dock. for a long, long, long time. I did go canoe-ing here and there. especially in the 80s. While it was 'fun' at times, my canoe partners weren't enjoyable on the water with me. Controlling-men took the stern and fussed over techniques and paddling skills. It felt like a chore, some of the time. Then there would be an unusually lovely day on the lake or a river, and things would be OK at least. But, my heart was closed off to it all. I needed some Inspiration!
I can't remember why my friend and I went for buying this canoe. It was the 1990s. I felt creative and was dancing and singing more and more and even riding horses. So, it seemed like it was time to have a canoe. My best friend, Pops, could teach me how to refurbish a canvas-and-wood old canoe...so we went for it! Artemis Dancing became the Canoe of my Dreams!
At first we just took her into Reservoirs to take classes. At 90 pounds, and a long gal, she was something to wrestle up and down ramps and into the water and out again! People would often offer to help us, as she was so lovely. We always took the assistance! Once in the water though, we were even more awkward. The teachers were especially critical of my friend, who had her own laid-back-and-earnest style at the bow. She wasn't easy for them to teach, apparently, because they were very perfunctory towards her. they even suggested that I get another partner. I patiently explained to them that she and I were in this canoe-thing together, and we were just going to have to take our time and learn everything together. Eventually we became better paddlers. We certainly were intrepid paddlers!
She and I maneuvered our lovable craft into the Bay estuaries, into lakes and into reservoirs. We paddled and paddled. When I wasn't paddling with her, I went out with more mature students of mine, or with friends. We paddled estuaries up the coast. into marshes. up and down quiet-current rivers. We loved it all! Canoes bring you to the level of the water-to-shore world. You become a wonderful animal among wonderful animals and birds! the river otters. blue herons. grey herons. harbor seals. California sea lions. white egrets. fish. frogs. salamanders. slugs, even! you are right there with them, quiet as you can be in the water. sharing their world just a little bit. occasionally, a red fox slips by through the marsh....
Once, when I went back to the Midwest, my niece and nephew and I went out for a canoe-trip on the Fox River. We put in downriver, in a free-flowing stretch that went on for some miles before it would reach one of the many little dams on the Fox. They were cheerful young teens, strong and able. We had so much fun! I taught them what I could, and we maneuvered the river pretty well, including a few little baby rapids that they insisted on paddling over and over and over. We pulled up-bank and had a picnic. Then we paddled back to our put-in point, exhausted but very pleased with ourselves! The entire day, I thought about my first trip on the Fox with my First Love. I wondered if he had paddled again, and if he had, what the adventures had been. I hoped he had them....
The Big Adventure that my friend and I had with Artemis Dancing was our guided paddle to Brooks Island, off the coast of Richmond, California. A Berkeley Park Ranger took trips out, on the right tides, through the Bay currents to this wonderful island in the East Bay. Only a caretaker lived there. Otherwise, it was a Bird Sanctuary, and that's all. It is still a Jewel in the Bay...almost untouched by human contact since a Band of Native Americans lived on it a hundred or so years ago...It was a surprisingly easy paddle onto the Island spit, where you could take-out...not an easy maneuver that, since the shoreline was, entirely, deep mud. We got to see the whole Island with its seals and birds, with the isolated but cheerful-enough caretaker as a guide. We ate, rested, and then commenced to go through and somewhat against the currents to paddle back to the Harbor. My god, the Currents. On a Bay that seemed only to ripple a bit under your paddle, just under your paddle, was a Big Mama Current that, literally, took our breath away! We were stunned by how hard we had to work! A Path Of The Paddle that had taken us only a half hour of work in the morning, took us an hour-and-a-half of paddling in the afternoon! Still, we made it! We were totally exhausted, but triumphant! I wished those mean ol' instructors in our early paddling years could see my friend now! They would have to eat their words!
We went out to Brooks Island together one more time. I also took two former students out to the spit and back. We all loved it out in the Bay, with our one-of-a-kind views of Mount Tam and of the East Bay skyline. The isolation and quiet peace, right in the middle of the busy Bay Area!
Once, I went with my friend, Bruce, into the estuary called Elkhorn, down south off the coast...he played his flute for the harbor seals in the sloughs...it was a lovely ride..
And then, came the year 2000. I moved out of my boyfriend's house, where I had lived for almost seven years. and, where we had stored the canoe, in his dry and ample garage. I moved into a tiny apartment, with a man I had just run-away-with. Eventually, he and I were married. Temporarily, we thought, we stored the canoe in the rafters of my friend's rental garage...then came illnesses. surgeries. pain. loss of family, friends and loved ones to death. moves from one rental to another. births of babies. We were solid. we were not unhappy, in spite of our trials. But...there was no time or energy or joyful will to take the canoe out of storage and to head for the healing water. There is only so much you can do, during times when you are trying to survive with some grace, any grace at all...the marriage did not survive the rough waters....
My dear Den and I will take Sweet William out again...she's stored at my daughter's...we had to find a car big enough to carry her. we have...we're looking for a home with a garage to keep her in, by our side...we're goin' to take her out quite often: to become crew together: to become One Thing at Paddle... He tells me that she is ready to go! Her tawny soul and green, naiad skin are thirsty for their dance upon the waters.
Someday Soon, we will prepare for our Dream Trip of five months...someday - down the entire Mississippi River...in another canoe, that can take the beating....
Until that time, we are the humble servants of a 1960s Old Town Canoe...
And she is ours to paddle away
To paddle home
for Life....
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