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Wooden Boats to Build and Use Reviewed by Tim Weaver
With Wooden Boats to Build and Use, John Gardner's literary voyage ends. The last of five books and hundreds of articles, it was finished off in the last year of his life, his 90th year, a year in which congestive heart failure was to take its toll. For those familiar with his writing, it is more of the same -- an exquisite mix of essay, practical boatbuilding instruction and nicely drawn lines. This hook is a match for his first, "Building Traditional Small Craft," and perhaps better. For John Gardner, the book was a walk down memory lane. There's the historical small boat essay with (as usual) lines and a set of plans. There's the practical family boat. There are a couple of workboats -- small inshore outboard types that offer as much boat for the money as one is likely to find. There's an essay on taking off boat lines and a general essay on boatbuilding. There's an essay on the future of wooden boats -- interesting, but it might be best left for last, even though it's the first piece in the book. Don't miss the 15-foot clamming skiff, heavily built and with plenty of rocker. It's an old-time Long Island Sound flatiron skiff of sorts, not a Sharpie. Shows what the demands of Long Island Sound will do to a rowboat. That clamming skiff is one rough and ready boat. But the book's about more than this sort of thing. This book's about enthusiasm for small boats. Never has John gone to such lengths, such persuasive prose, just gems of enthusiasm for small boats, as here. The articles -- there are 20 -- fit together, a song in praise of small craft. With each one, one's enthusiasm builds. There's no question all his books are good and a pleasure to read -- no question at all -- but this book gets you looking for a pile of wood and a place to start. The boats are intriguing, the stories are great, the instruction precise, and the whole show is easy going. This is a book that introduces one to small craft very nicely, and it doesn't do it the easy way. Take the historical essays, that interweaving of boat, coastline, time and man that is one of his specialties. There are three such pieces here: "A Marblehead Gunning Dory," a recap and extension of all he's done with the subject; "The Moosabec Reach Boat," a beautiful story within a story within a story, and an intriguing boat; and "The Migration of the Hampton Boat." In the last mentioned, he has chosen a boat that has got to be the perfect bare-bones coastal cruiser. This book is full of good boats. If you're looking for a modern day cruiser, there's the 22-foot outboard work skiff in Chapter 15. This is a big boat that, with a cabin, can go a lot of places and see a lot of sights, be comfortable and not break the bank too badly. Though once a boat goes over 16 feet, money, maybe disproportionately so, enters the picture (and maybe needlessly). That just might make the reader go back to Chapter Eight: 13-foot 7-inch Swampscott sailing dory skiff. Here's a family boat that does it all, but Mr. Gardner treats us to more than a good boat. This is an essay about boatbuilding, about skills that "lay latent" and are "awaiting to be awakened," about those who have built and those who have not. There's the tale of Slocum's Liberdade. There's the tale of George Bonnell. Our writer has pulled out the stops. Not inconsiderable literary skill is sent upon a mission. He wants a boat built. He does his part. The plans, after motivation, are 30 pages. This is as fine a piece as he ever wrote, and in doing so found a creature he claimed didn't exist, the multi-purpose version of man's best friend. Let's move along, though. Chapter Six: 19th century working dory. This is Centennial, 120 years young. This boat made the first solo Atlantic crossing, and as Gardner says, "...and it means something to be first." Let John take you on his visit with this boat. Chapter Ten: Jonesport launch. If you like wandering the waterfront, you run into these sorts of boats. Old, kinda used up, from another time, still alive. But there's not much else before the eye. They don't talk; the guys that built them are likely as not dead, or they can't remember they build them at all. Here Gardner gets into one of these hull types, and William Frost's the name. Heard the name somewhere? In an ad for an old boat, going a bit cheap most likely, might have read "Frost built." What's it mean? Find out here. |
Don't pass Chapter Eleven: Four-oar gigs American Star and General Lafayette. This is the story behind the story of the General Lafayette, a reproduction of the racing gig given General Lafayette when he visited America in 1825 and built by John Gardner at Mystic Seaport about 20 years ago. As John says, "Leaving sentiment aside, the importance of the American Star, not only for small craft history but for the more general history of technology as well, can hardly be overestimated." For those with a long-time interest in light, fast, fixed-seat, no-nonsense rowing craft, Gardner's comments on the construction of American Star are of interest. Line and offsets for American Star are included. It goes on. There's the lobster boat Gardner designed and built when he worked at the Dion yard in Massachusetts. There's a garvey or two. That's about it. That's still not the end of what the book's about. Two of the historical essays, "The Moosabec Reach Boat" and "The Migration of the Hampton Boat" go down a light traveled path. It's the path of the small, two-masted, along-shore boat that sails well, or well enough, and rows well, or well enough. Of all the traditional small craft, these are some of the most interesting. Cheap to rig, they usually have free-standing masts with sprits on the fore and main sails and, maybe, have a jib. These are endlessly fascinating boats. As a rule, they don't need a reefing system, an optional third mast step is usually part of the boat's layout, and one simply uses the smaller of the two large sails, or perhaps the larger of two sails in this mast as a reefing system. For boats that were in the water spring, summer and fall, it nicely accounted for the changes in wind conditions the seasons inevitably brought. The rigs are straightforward and squarely address a problem of the over-pressed small boat in the spring and fall. This serendipitously opens a world of endless possibilities. These boats are like man's best friend, too, but one that's come to the house full-grown. It is a scientific fact that such creatures have their ways. They've been around, faced more than a few adjustments and their share of trouble, but they still dream of sunshine, a summer day and a good master or mistress. One watches such a dog, learns his or her ways and enjoys the situation. Maybe you train the dog, maybe the dog trains you. Whatever happens, it's generally for the best. So it is with these boats. They are an endless learning experience. They are exercises in economy of thought and action. They like a new idea -- say a change in rudder shape, a tweaked mast position, addition of a sail or two. These boats just may be some of the best of the past. If you like rigging, you're sunk. Hanging around the mooring, changing things for the sake of it, lacing sails, keeping track of line -- plenty of line -- the boat tugging in the breeze, the sun moving off everything, they are a great way to leave the cares of a more mundane world ashore. The trick is not to overdo it. The rig's the real thing with these boats, and there's not a lot of information out there on the smaller two-masted boats. It's here. So what is this book? It's a great introduction to the writing of one of our best, if not our best writer, on the subject of small boats, a writer now gone, leaving his books behind as he crossed the bar. It is also a fine book, as nice as any one will find, for the small boat fan who has decided to dig a little deeper into his or her appreciation of small boats. For the Gardner afficionado, it's a must. For someone looking for a small, manageable boat of historic origin that, nevertheless, has many uses and can be built so that it is trailer friendly, the 13-foot, seven-inch Swampscott is an interesting proposition and a family boat. The only question left is how to appropriately buy Wooden Boats To Build and Use. This book deserves to be bought in a decent setting, somewhere people like boats, perhaps a regional maritime museum, for it is a book that marks an ending, divides time. This is the last book of one of the old ones, one of those who grew up amongst sights and sounds that are no more. It is, amongst other things, a "last report of things now beyond recall." And then it's time, book safely secured, to take a walk around that waterfront place, look the boats over, enjoy how they are, how out of need and simple things came much. Cathedrals they're not, but refreshing reminders of the originality of the human spirit, they are. Note: Without Sharon Brown, John Gardner's associate at Mystic Seaport, this book might have come out differently. She has put together something out of the ordinary. Her photograph of Gardner is the book's cover and it is a wonderful one. It says it all, see it, and you've met John Gardner in his later years. |