|
Paddler
Magazine |
|
Coming
Full Circle with Adirondack Guideboats
|
|
by
Kenny Clarke |
|
|
 |
|
The venerable vessel once used to penetrate thick Northeast
forests is now a
symbol of boat-building prowess. |
|
I was
born in a remote town in the eastern Adirondack Mountains of New York.
My parents’ house sat high on a hill that was referred to by the locals
as Coot Hill. I’m proud to say that "Coot Hillers" are known for, let’s
say, being a little wild maybe even somewhat hillbilly; rock fights,
BB-gun wars, and Dukes of Hazard-style Matchbox car jumping contests
were common pastimes among children on Coot Hill. |
|
During less troublesome
forays my father would take my brother and I on what we called "canoe
trips." Together we would travel about some remote waterway or chain of
lakes deep within the Adirondack Park for five to seven days at a time. At
the put-in we would meet up with two or perhaps three other father-and-son
combos; they would be paddling shiny green and red canoes.
We, on the other hand, didn’t have a canoe; our boat was a 15-foot
Adirondack guide-boat. It was a good-looking craft, gray with black
trim. |
|
|
There was nothing "canoe" about this boat, though; seven-and-a-half-foot
oars, manned by my father, powered it. Since my brother was older he was
given a short paddle to push off from rocks during technical sections of a
river, a point of contention a few days into our adventure, as I sat jobless
in the bow. "Quit your bitching," my brother yelled from the back of the
boat, a phrase we had learned from our grandfather. Swearing wasn’t normally
allowed in my family (Coot Hillers had to draw the line somewhere), but my
father had heard enough of my complaining and let it slide that one time. |
|
Looking back I’ve often
wondered about our guide-boat and its place in the rich Adirondack history.
At the height of its development the sleek Adirondack guide-boat, like the
gray and black one we had used, was a double-ended craft that averaged about
16-feet in length. Weighing 70-75 pounds, it was easily carried by a single
person in the traditional manner: carrying yoke across the shoulders, boat
overhead. It could be rowed in either direction and was nearly 40 inches
wide at the beam. The guide-boat was almost always equipped with two sets of
oarlocks, which allowed the rower to change positions depending upon numbers
of passengers and loads hauled. They were traditionally made of wood
gathered from the forest, such as cedar, spruce, and pine; and a skilled
builder could produce a finished guide-boat in about 300 hours, excluding
the oars. |
|
At one time many believed that this curious craft was "invented" by a
full-blooded Abenaki Indian named Mitchell Sabattis, who, according to the
book The Adirondack Guide Boat, was "…a prodigious fellow who
killed many moose, panthers and bear, played the fiddle, and led the singing
in the church." With little evidence to support this claim, a more
likely answer is that the boat evolved from a small watercraft deep within
the boreal forests of the Adirondacks in the 1830s, a time when travel by
water was commonplace. |
|
As the areas surrounding the region were basking in development, the
Adirondacks remained an impenetrable wilderness; to gain access to the area
early explorers turned to the regions 3,000-plus lakes and ponds, 30,000
miles of streams and 6,000 miles of rivers. The flowing environment provided
a pleasant alternative to the overland bushwhacking that was previously
necessary to travel in the area. Although bodies of water were numerous,
stretches of land often required the traveler to portage his craft for a
mile or two; thus increasing the need for a lighter craft capable of
transporting the heavy loads of the trappers and traders of the day.
|
| |
|
 |
| |
|
By the 1840s, an influx of visitors sought refuge in the Adirondacks from
urban life, which in turn ushered in a new era for the guide-boats and their
owners. Those seeking adventure in the great New York wilderness came to be
known as "sports," and there was no better way for a "sport" to experience
the wilds of the region than in an Adirondack guide-boat. Then the guiding
era moved in, providing a new source of income for the locals and placing
even greater demands on the guide-boat. Now, more than ever, the need for an
easily portaged craft that could haul gear--as the "sports’" payload was
often unpredictable, ranging from meager to extravagant--further drove the
evolution of the already highly refined guide-boat. For the first time in
its history aesthetics became an important aspect of the craft, as
inexperienced "sports" often chose the guide with the best looking boat for
their adventure. |
|
By the 1860s and ’70s things were once again changing in the region.
Visitors were placing less emphasis on hunting and fishing than on
recreation. With this boom came the great hotels of the region, each with a
small fleet of guide-boats for their guests to use. As the people found new
ways to have fun and additional ways to travel, including the train and
steamship, the guide and his guide-boat rapidly slipped from fruition to
obscurity, ultimately being replaced by the gasoline-powered outboard engine
in the early to mid 1900s. The fabled guide-boats were tucked away under
porches, stored high in garages and put on display in museums. |
|
|
It’s 6 a.m. on a
Saturday, a ringing phone awakens me. The caller from the East Coast has not
figured out time zones; his 10 a.m. equals early for me. It’s my brother.
After I curse him for calling so early we talk about the standard stuff:
who’s not getting along with whom, women, work, news… Toward the end of the
conversation he mentions that he has found a mini guide-boat, made and
designed by some guys on the New York border in Vermont. He tells me it’s
made of Kevlar and weighs only 46 pounds. He wants one… |
| |
|
 |
| |
|
Five months later I am once again awakened early, only this time it isn’t a
telephone ringing--I was having a dream. On Eagle Lake deep within the
Adirondacks I was rowing an Adirondack guide-boat, gray in color. An early
morning fog was rising off the water; it had rained the night before.
Through the fog I could see maple trees dotting the shoreline, the trees in
autumn transition from green to orange and red. As quickly as the dream
began it was over and I was awake. I knew it was time to visit the
Northeast. Less than two weeks later I arrive in that same remote town in
the eastern Adirondacks where I was brought up. |
|
After a few days of catching up I sit down to take care of business--e-mails
that have been piling up for about a month. As I begin a white business card
with a cryptic message catches my eye. It reads, "Kevlar Packboat, 46
lbs, $2,300." Next to the business card is a blue brochure from
Adirondack Guide-Boat, a company owned and operated by Steve Kaulback and
David Rosen in Ferrisburgh, VT. Leafing through the brochure, I discover
that they offer a variety of different guide-boats ranging in price from a
modest $2,300 to a prestigious $13,600 for a wooden version. I decide to
skip the e-mails (they can wait another month) and investigate further on
the company’s website. |
|
I find that Steve Kaulback, who holds a BFA from the Pratt Institute in New
York City, is masterminding the design and production half of the Adirondack
Guide-Boat partnership. He’s been designing and building boats for 23 years
and, from what I can tell, isn’t showing any signs of slowing down. It
appears that David’s passion is just the opposite of Steve’s; he takes care
of the business end of the relationship, marketing, staffing, money, and the
like. I browse an article on the website that has Steve labeling Rosen as
the "PT Barnum of watercraft," which, I guess, makes Steve the guy who saws
women in half and puts them back together. |
|
At 2 o’clock Steve rolls up to the front of his shop in a giant, old station
wagon, which vaguely reminds me of the one from National Lampoon’s Family
Vacation, faux wood trim and all. On the car’s front quarter panel is a
large placard magnet that reads, "Adirondack Guide-Boat." After my
brother and I meet Steve, I comment on what a great car he has, half in awe,
half in wonderment that anyone would still drive one. "Yeah, it’s my
favorite for hauling boats," he responds. "If someone made one about 5 or 6
inches wider you could haul a full sheet of plywood in the back, then you’d
have something special. They just don’t make them like they used to." I
imagine Steve motoring down the highway taking up one-and-a-half lanes,
sheets of plywood hanging out the back, three or four Adirondack guide-boats
loosely strapped to the car’s enormous roof rack. Somehow this is fitting.
|
|
We make our selections of three boats to demo. The first is a 12-foot
Packboat, with an enhanced trim package; my brother has been staring at
it. And the second is a full-sized, navy-blue 15-foot Guideboat. Steve tells
us about one of his customers, Paul Neil, who rows a 16-foot wooden
Guideboat in open ocean races. A picture of Paul hangs just inside the shop
door, and you can see his head, the tip of an oar and the bow of the
guide-boat. Masking the rest of him and the boat are two giant swells of
ocean. We stand around the photograph and laugh. |
|
As I push off from the small dock in the 15-foot Guideboat Steve proudly
proclaims, "Son, that’s the fastest guide-boat made." After three strong
pulls on the 8-foot oars, I’m 30-yards from shore. He was right, this boat
is fast. With my hands crossing in front of me, right hand over left,
I brace my feet and take another sweeping stroke with the soft maple oars,
propelling myself 15 more yards away from Steve. Four more strokes and I
meet up with my brother who is playing in the 12-foot Packboat, fire-engine
red. The afternoon sun is pouring over the small pond and his boat is
reflecting red and gold in the shallow water as he lazily casts his
fly-fishing rod. Ten-and-two, 10 and-two, 10-and-two…With each stroke the
boat gently rocks back and forth, faithfully catching its hard-line chines
on the surface of the water. |
|
|
Back at the shop Steve takes us through the process of building Kevlar
boats. Against a wall I see one of the heavy-looking boat molds, the inside
highly polished and bright green. Next to the mold rests a freshly plucked
burgundy Packboat. Upon closer examination I can distinguish the layers of
Kevlar, strategically sandwiched between sheets of fiberglass. Steve gives
us his take on the state of boat-building in America, the words roll from
his tongue like poetry. "Today, boat makers are bastardizing all natural
detail, putting out Tupperware boats and scoffing at the detail that our
grandparents used to know." As I run my hands along the boat’s sensuous
lines, I am reminded of an expensive sculpture, the type you would see
displayed on a pedestal in an elegant home or museum. "We take pride in our
boats," Steve continues. "Attention is paid to every detail. We try to think
of everything." |
|
He explains that this is the company’s 198th boat of the season.
By year’s end the company will have made about 250, minuscule numbers by
commercial boat-building standards. But according to Hallie Bond, curator of
boats at the Adirondack Museum, these numbers are monumental in a market
that produces less than 30 guide-boats per year, most of which are made by
homebuilders and one-boat-a-year craftsman. At the annual No Octane
Regatta for wooden boats, held each June in Blue Mountain Lake,
N.Y., you’ll find Kaulback's vessels dotting the shoreline amidst the
vintage guide-boats. It’s safe to say that Adirondack Guide-Boat isn’t
merely dominating the market, are creating it. |
|
After finishing our tour Steve smiles and asks if we’d like to see where the
wooden guide-boats are made. We jump at the chance and five minutes later
are inside another small shop, only this one’s floor is riddled with
sawdust, sandpaper and sharp chisels, no Kevlar. |
|
|
Propped in the middle of the room are two 15-foot, wooden guide-boats, the
first of which is in its early stages of creation. We meet Giles Hoyler, 24,
who is expertly attaching strips of western red cedar to the boat’s skeleton
of spruce ribs. The second is further along and in the process of being
sanded. Looking closely at the boat’s bow I see that someone has taken great
care in painstakingly adjusting the 700 or so tiny brass screws so that
their slotted heads are perfectly aligned with each other. This particular
boat, Steve explains, is scheduled to make an appearance at a Rhode Island
furniture show in about two weeks. |
|
After we see the wooden boats Steve leads us outside where he has something
that he wants to show us. In the back of the shop we find a guide-boat relic
sitting high in a carpeted rack, which Steve estimates to be from the 1880s,
the heyday of guide-boat design and production. On the ground are tattered
pieces of fiberglass that he has previously scraped off the boat’s wooden
frame. At first glance it looks similar to the two boats inside of the shop
but Steve is quick to point out that they are quite different, directing our
attention to the vessel’s bottom board. It is at least 3 or 4 inches wider
than Steve’s design, miles of difference in the guide-boat building world.
"This one is beyond repair," remarks Steve. "I’ll fix it up some and it will
go to someone who wants to put it on display. Hang it on the wall, you
know." |
|
Finishing up, my brother decided that he couldn't go home without that cute
little red boat. After settling up, we thank Steve for spending time with us
and for letting us abuse his demo boats. We part ways and begin the
45-minute drive back to New York. The vision of the old guide-boat, with its
coatings of antique paint, is still wandering around my head. I imagine the
boat, in a better state, cutting through the water of some remote waterway
deep within the heart of the Adirondacks, the morning fog lifting, the
leaves of maple trees changing color. Somehow I know that I will be haunted
by this boat in dreams to come. |
|
|
Search engines please note the
keywords for this site are: Adirondack Guide Boats,adirondackguideboat, adirondackguideboats, dory, dories, rowing boat, flyfishing, fly-fishing, fly casting, Dory, Dories, Fly-Fishing, Fly-Casting,Adirondack Guideboat, adirondack guideboat, Adirondack Guideboats, Adirondack Guideboats,adirondack guide boats,adirondack,guide,boats,boat,boats,boat building,boat kits,custom boats,custom boat kits,wood,wooden,wooden boats,wooden boat kits,Kevlar,kevlar,kevlar boats,kevlar guide boats,rowing, rowing boats, row boats, row, oar, oars, fishing, fishing boats, camping, Vermont,vermont, Vermont Boating,vermont boating,boat museum,boat museums, canoe,canoes,wood canoes,wooden canoes,canoe kits,boat museums,Museums,museums,classic boats, classic, Stephen Kaulback, David Rosen, Steve Kaulback,Dave Rosen