Education of a Raft Wacko

Illa-Tiki, John Haslett's first raft (top), hoisted a single squaresail on a bipod mast. It was intended for a pure downwind drift voyage from Ecuador to Hawaii. His next three rafts, all with two lateen sails on pole masts, were meant for the more rigorous maneuvering of alongshore sailing on the west coast of South and Central America. (click to enlarge)

I've written a number of posts about modern-day raft adventurers, often referring to them as "wackos" because I find it amusing to do so. (See our previous posts on rafts.) The folks who set off to drift across oceans on (barely) floating piles of vegetable matter are a special sort of mariner: brave, tough and resourceful: without question; strongly committed to (or obsessed by) an objective: very much so in most cases; a little "different?" -- uh, yeah. (Please don't get me wrong. I use "wacko" is a purely positive sense, acknowledging something of myself in that term. If someone were to invite me to participate in a credible raft expedition, I might jump at the opportunity.)

John Haslett started out as another raft wacko. But somewhere between the construction of his first raft, Illa-Tiki, in Ecuador in 1995, and the wreck of his fourth, Endurancia, in Costa Rica in 1999, he grew into something else, as neatly described in the subtitle of his book Voyage of the Manteño: The Education of a Modern-Day Expeditioner. (The book was recently republished in Kindle format under a new title: The Lost Raft: The True Story of Madness, Mutiny, Mud, Sharks, Shipwrecks, Survival, and Extraordinary Discovery in the Wake of Kon-Tiki.) Not to say that he entirely lost the wacko attitude. But as his expeditions morphed from mere adventures into serious research efforts, Haslett's youthful dilettantism dissolved, replaced by maturity and competence as a logistician, mariner, and leader.

All of Haslett's voyages were on balsa log rafts, begun on the west coast of Central and South America. Illa-Tiki set out from Ecuador bound for Hawaii, with no real objective other than to do something Thor Heyerdahl-ish. By the time that voyage had failed, Haslett had redefined the goal of his rafting efforts, so that his second voyage, aboard the raft Manteño, was no longer just a voyage but, rather, an expedition -- a voyage with a purpose -- seeking to demonstrate that Precolumbian trade, which is believed to have occurred between Ecuador and Mexico, could have been conducted by the Manteño people of Ecuador using balsa sailing rafts of the kind reported by early European explorers, which reports are not universally accepted as accurate or credible.

Not one of Haslett's four raft voyages came close to reaching its destination, and the last one wrecked almost as soon as it began. But even in their failures, Haslett's voyages contributed something to our understanding of the rafts that the Manteño people might have used. Some of the most important of those contributions are in the negative: Haslet''s experience shows us just as much of what the rafts were not or could not do as it shows us what they might have been and might have been capable of. That's the kind of research, the kind of science, that we hear too little of, but it's every bit as important to our understanding of reality as the so-called successes.

Haslett's book is a detailed record of gruelling hard work rewarded by the "failure" of the voyages to reach their destinations. As I read Voyage of the Manteño, I looked forward to summarizing it here, for it is by far the most fascinating and best-written rafting adventure I've come across.

But I've found that this has already been done competently by others, including a nice summary of the first three voyages, and details about the construction and sailing characteristics of the rafts described in academic but very readable form by Cameron Smith, an archaeologist who accompanied Haslett on some of the voyages. There's no need to repeat these available sources, and I leave interested readers to read them for specifics on Haslett's voyages and vessels.

But I also urge them to read Haslett's book for a gripping, suitably humble, and altogether satisfying first-hand account of how, through hardship, hard work and the force of necessity, naivete can grow to maturity and seriousness of purpose.

Northeastern Amerindian Canoes: Peabody Museum #8

As the final installment in the series, let's look now at boat-related exhibits of Northeastern American Indian cultures at Harvard University's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. Earlier posts sampled the Peabody's exhibits of Baffinland Inuit, Aleut, other Alaskan Eskimo, and Chinook, Coast Salish, et al, and other Pacific Northwest cultures, a large stitch-planked monohull canoe from the Solomon Islands, and items from several cultures of Oceania.)

Detail of a diorama depicting American Indian culture of Southern New England in late 17th and 18th centuries. The paper birch rarely grows to adequate canoe-building size in Southern New England. Although Amerindians further north would trade sheets of canoe bark with Southern New England tribes, the dugout was the region's most common, and only indigenous, watercraft. Rectilinear lines as shown were the norm. In hollowing the hull, the top surface would be burnt to a char with a small, carefully regulated fire, then adzes with stone or shell blades were used to chip and scrap away the charred material. Although dugout canoes are often thought to have been heavy and awkward affairs, one can see from the model that the sides were hewn to a thinness that would make the canoes reasonable agile and capable of being portaged when necessary. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Blade of an Eastern Algonkian canoe paddle, collected prior to 1899. From the display card: "The blade of this elaborately decorated paddle is painted green. The double-curve design was executed by removing the paint while it was still wet. The stepped motif and crosshatching are suggestive of Penobscot or Passamaquoddy manufacture. The handle exhibits graceful carving and shows much indication of use." The Penobscot people lived (and still live) in Maine; the Passamadquoddy in Maine and New Brunswick. [Addition 1/27/14: further discussion of this paddle appears on Murat's excellent blog Paddle Making (and Other Canoe Stuff).] 

Shaft and handle of the above paddle. 

A model of a "crooked" canoe from the Montagnais people of eastern Canada, made around 1852. The "crooked" name derives from the sharply rockered bottom, designed for quick maneuvering on tight and rocky streams.

Another Passamaquoddy canoe model, but of a different style, and collected in the early 19th century. The double-curve design on the bark is executed by scraping away one layer of the bark. When applied to full-size canoes, such decoration was usually confined to the ends and topside areas amidships, and not below the waterline as was done on the model.  

A model Micmac sea canoe, made in 1904. The double-curved gunwales raise the sheer amidships, making the boat drier in ocean waves, while the lower sheer toward the ends allowed easier paddling. 

Eastern Algonkian canoe model, collected in 1794 and described as "very accurate." From the display card: "Although originally attributed to the Micmac, the form of this canoe is suggestive of Maliseet, Passamaquoddy, or Penobscot manufacture [all Maine tribes; ed.]. the flared ends are of a very early style. Note that the thwarts are carved and the seams have rod ochre applied over pitch."

Canoe model built in 1904. From the display card: "The unusual ends make attribution difficult. The bottom profile is slightly concave, or 'hogged,' as is typical of northwestern canoe types, but the U-shaped end treatment is not characteristic of that area in general."

More Pacific Northwest Canoe Items: Peabody Museum #5

This post, the fifth in a series on exhibits at Harvard University's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, highlights more canoe-related items from North America's Pacific Northwest. Earlier, the series looked at Baffinland Inuit, Aleut, other Alaskan Eskimo, and other Pacific Northwest exhibits. Quotations in the photo captions are from the exhibit display cards.

The Chinook people traditionally lived along the Columbia River in Oregon and Washington. "The form of the canoe existed in the eighteenth century (and probably earlier), but the presence of glass beads in the design suggests that the model dates to the early nineteenth century. Had it been made earlier, sea otter teeth would have been used in forming the decorative patterns." (Click any image to enlarge.)

Tlingit or Haida canoe model, collected about 1849. Both groups traditionally lived around the present-day border between British Columbia and Alaksa. "The style of this vessel is called a 'head canoe.' It is only known from models, since it went out of fashion in the early nineteenth centry. This model is probably made of yellow cedar and has an unsual beak, perhaps relating to a Thunderbird, although it could signify any of a number of creatures. The rest of the design is also ambiguous."

Detail of the bow of the head canoe in the previous photo, showing two "head" images, one painted, the other painted and carved.

Hand adze from the Quinault group of the Coast Salish people of western Washington state. "The adze is a principal wood-working tool among Northwest Coast Indians. Traditionally the blade was made of stone, but steel substituted in the eighteenth century. The handles of these tools, however, show strong continuities in form and decoration through time. The handle of this D-shaped adze is carved out of whalebone, while the blade is cut down from a small ax head. The lashings may be of twisted whale or sea lion sinew....(P)robably dates to the early nineteenth century."

Canoe bailer from the Clayoquot region of British Columbia, collected before 1905. "Bailers of square form were common among the Westcoast Indians... It once had attached to it a handle of twisted cedar withes."

Left: Canoe paddle, yew wood, collected in Nootka Sound, 1794. "Standard Westcoast features include the delicate form of the blade, the square cross-section of the grip, and the separately carved handle attached by pegs. The surface of the paddle is blackened with pitch and oil. A wrapping of kelp...served as both a grip as well as a pad where the paddle rubbed against the gunwales...."  Center and right: Bow, quiver, and arrow; either Yakutat Tlingit or Chugach Eskimo, prior to 1905. Sea otters remained abundant in Tlingit country in the 19th century, after they had been virtually exterminated in other areas of the Pacific Northwest. Although guns were in common use there, "(b)ows and arrows continued to be used for hunting sea otter, because of their silence. One gunshot would scatter a herd."   

Details of the grips of the paddle and bow in the previous photo.

Nootka, Haida, Kwakiutl Dwellings and Canoes: Peabody Museum #4

Let's look at more maritime-related dioramas at Harvard University's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology, these depicting cultures of the Pacific Northwest of North America. (Previous posts about the Peabody's exhibits include coverage of Baffinland Inuit, Aleuts and other Alaskan Eskimo.) 

The Nuu-chah-nulth people, formerly known as the Nootka, traditionally lived on Vancouver Island, where whaling, as shown in this diorama, constituted one of their important economic activities. The aboveground house is entirely built of planks, with stones weighting down the roof planks. I don't know the purpose of the horizontal log raised on log uprights just to the right of the house. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Three Nuu-chah-nulth dugout canoes gather around a whale kill. Probably all three helped tow the carcass into shore after it had died from multiple harpoon wounds. With their clear head and tail, the canoes' overall shape is zoomorphic, i.e., shaped to depict or imitate an animal.

A close-up of one of the whaling canoes and its associated gear. In the bow is a coiled line attached to a triangular piece of wood, the purpose of which I don't know. (Help please, readers.) Moving aft, there's a square wooden box, an inflated skin float, three paddles with lanceolate blades and T-grips, and atop it all a very large harpoon, with the head separated from the shaft and attached to a line. To the right, the whale shows multiple harpoon wounds, and several floats are still attached by lines to embedded harpoon heads. 

Another canoe close-up, with the harpoon head attached to the shaft, and several paddles. The canoes were built of a single hollowed log which was "expanded" to increase the beam. In this process, the hollowed log was filled with water; fire-heated stones were placed inside until the water boiled; as they cooled, stones were regularly replaced with newly heated ones to keep the water temperature high; when the wood had softened sufficiently, thwarts were forced between the gunwales to force the sides apart. This would commonly add some rocker to the hull. 

Moving on to another Pacific Northwest culture: the traditional home of the Haida people was coastal northern British Columbia and southern Alaska. The basic canoe-building process was the same as that of the Nuu-chah-nulth, but the boats exhibit striking differences. Most notable is the forward skeg: the boat's bow is to the right, and what appears to be a conventional stern skeg is actually a kind of cutwater. This is a fishing canoe. In the stern is what appears to be a leister, a fish spear whose head has a central point on which the fish is impaled, and two prongs on either side that prevent it from escaping. In the bow is a long-handled dip net. The decorated paddles have broad, rounded blades somewhat like beavertails, and a grip reminiscent of the Maine Northwoods style. The woman immediately behind the canoe holds a box that appears to be carved from a solid block of wood. The person to her left wears a bentwood hat.   

Close-up of the same canoe, showing details of painted decoration and the bow skeg. At extreme right, a dip net of a different pattern rests against the house wall. The houses display massive timber  perimeter framing.

The traditional range of the Kwakwa̱ka̱’wakw people (formerly and incorrectly known as the Kwakiutl, who were actually just one of the tribes of the Kwakwa̱ka̱’wakw culture) was northern Vancouver Island and the nearby mainland and smaller islands. From the exhibit's display card: "As with most Northwest Coast tribes, Kwakiutl villages are found along the shoreline. This is because the sea traditionally furnished their principal foods, including various species of fish, sea mammals, and molluscs. A memorial pole stands before two permanent houses in this scene. Prior to the introduction of commercial lumber, the Kwakiutl made boards of split planks of red cedar. This wood was of particular importance to these Indians for many items of manufacture. The completed house has an elaborate design on its front which identifies the crests of the family. The framework for these houses consists of heavy beams and posts, all of which were carved and notched prior to raising. The roof boards are split so that their edges turn up. When placed on the rafter, the lower boards are set concave side up so that they serve as gutters. Heavy stones are set on one of these roofs as an added precaution to keep the planks from blowing off during inclement weather."

Close-up of a Kwakwaka'wakw dugout canoe with leister and paddle. This top view shows a hull that is symmetrical fore-and-aft, including the end decorations. The paddle has a long, narrow, rounded blade and an elaborate form of T-grip.

The Tomol Revival

In our most recent posts, which looked at the cultural background of the Chumash tomol and at tomol construction, both referred to replica boats – tomols that have been built since the end of "natural" indigenous use of this interesting sewn-plank canoe.

Tomol under construction by Fernando Librado, 1912 or 1913. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The first such replica was built in 1912 or 1913 under the direction of Fernando Librado, probably the last of the Chumash "Brotherhood of the Tomol" – the guild that built and used the boats. Librado, then 73 years old, built the boat at the request of John Peabody Harrington, an anthropologist who "discovered" (for the purposes of modern science) that the Chumash had not died out by the 1870s and were, in fact, still a living culture in the first decade of the 20th century. Recognizing the central role the tomol had played in Chumash culture prior to and well into the era of the Spanish missions, Harrington plied Librado with hours of questions about every aspect of tomol construction and usage, and had him build a full-size replica that is now in the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History. (See the museum's pages on Chumash life.)

Librado's replica was not correct in all respects -- it used commercially sawn lumber and its shape was not quite authentic -- but through its construction, Harrington was nevertheless able to capture much detail about the building process, and through his intensive questioning of Librado, he was able to tease out the differences and arrive at was is probably a very accurate depiction of the boat's original form and construction. Harrington continued to live among the Chumash so intensively that he became one of them and, after receiving a post with the federal Bureau of American Ethnology, he documented their culture in thousands of pages of hand-written notes, leaving virtually no aspect of Chumash life unrecorded.

Librado's tomol in the Santa Barbara Museum of Natural History. (Photo from  blog Jack Elliott's Santa Barbara Adventure.)

In the 1970s there was a widespread reawakening of American Indian/First Peoples pride and culture, and in 1975, members of the Quabajai Chumash Indian Association built Helek, a tomol that took advantage of Harrington's notes and Librado's replica. (I've seen the word helek defined variously as hawk, falcon, and peregrine falcon.) This boat was launched in 1976, and it was campaigned on historic Chumash stomping grounds between San Miguel Island, Santa Rosa Island, and Santa Cruz Island in the Channel Islands group.

Plans for Helek, based on Harrington's description and Librado's replica. This is probably the most accurate depiction possible of a tomol.

Helek's maiden voyage.

Helek proved the be the first of several modern replicas. The Chumash Maritime Association was founded in 1996 and built the tomol 'Elye'wun (Swordfish) which, in 2001 crossed from the mainland to Santa Cruz Island: a 21-mile voyage taking 10 hours. Since then, channel crossings by the group have become a nearly annual event (the trip was cancelled in 2012 due to rough seas on the scheduled day).

'Elye'wun, built by the Chumash Maritime Association

A Google image search for "Chumash tomol" turns up photos of several additional replicas, although details on most of these have proven elusive. Some of them are clearly more authentic than others, and the quality of workmanship varies widely. Nonetheless, it appears that tomol construction is no longer in danger of becoming a lost art, and that it is being practiced by cultural organizations and individuals as a means of preserving both Chumash heritage and native skills.

I invite readers to provide information and photos about specific tomol projects. We'd love to learn and show more. Thanks!

Tomol Construction

A Chumash tomol. Painting by Robert Thomas. Click any image to enlarge.

In our previous post, we looked at social and economic aspects of the California Chumash planked canoe or tomol. Now let's see how they were built.

The primary construction materials were softwood for planking, asphaltum (i.e., bitumen) and pine pitch for sealing, and red milkweed for caulking and sewing. Redwood was the preferred wood, because of its light weight, durability, rot resistance, and ease of working. Redwood is not native to the Santa Barbara region where the Chumash lived, but a fair amount turned up as driftwood, primarily on the shores on the Channel Islands. Far less redwood driftwood was available on the mainland on the other side of the Santa Barbara channel. On the other hand, bitumen was easily mined on the mainland from exposed coastal cliff faces, so most tomols were built on the islands with bitumen imported from the mainland. But because of the economic importance of the tomol, they were built wherever possible, including on the mainland, and if redwood was unavailable, other softwoods were used.

Tree trunks were split into planks with wedges made from whalebone. The quality of the planking material was of such concern that a log might only yield a few planks acceptably free of knots, cracks and bad grain. After being split, planks were further worked to consistent thickness with axes and adzes made of stone or shell, then smoothed with sharkskin "sandpaper."

The tomol was built right side up. The bottom plank was somewhat dished, but it was not thick enough to constitute a "dugout" base: in other words, the tomol was a true plank-built boat, not an extended dugout. The bottom plank was set on a V-shaped framework that established the angle of the sides. (It's not clear to me from the available materials whether this was a single building form located amidships, or a series of connected forms -- i.e., a building frame -- that determined the shape at several stations.)

Each strake consisted of several short planks which were beveled at the ends to make lap joints. The strake-to-strake joints were butted and had caulking bevels, like standard carvel planking. The garboards, which were set on top of the bottom plank, were beveled to establish the proper angle for the sides.

Fitting the planks was probably the most difficult and time-consuming task in tomol construction. A complex series of lines was strung as guides to each plank's shape. On occasion, it was possible to get out a plank with the proper curves from a suitably curved piece of timber; at other times, a plank might be hewn to the required curved shape. Most planks, however, had to be sprung in place. To soften them, they were placed in clay-lined, water-filled pit, and hot rocks were added to boil the water. After the planks had soaked for some hours, they were removed and quickly bent and twisted to shape on the boat. They were bedded in yop -- a mixture of bitumen and pitch pine.

Pairs of holes were bored in adjacent planks with stone drills, and grooves cut between the holes. Waxed cordage made of red milkweed fiber was passed through the holes: each stitch consisted of three turns, followed by two knots. (Cordage was made by women; men performed all other tasks associated with construction.) All stitches were separate. The ties were recessed into the surface of the plank, and so were protected from abrasion. Plank laps were stitched in a similar manner. More milkweed fiber was forced into the planking bevels. All plank joints and tie-holes were sealed with more yop.

A tomol built in 1912 or 1913 for anthropologist John Peabody Harrington by Fernando Librado, the last Chumash to have worked with the old "Brotherhood of the Tomol" boatbuilders guild.

Most tomols had six strakes. A single thwart was placed amidships, sandwiched between the fifth and sixth (gunwale) strakes. This was the only internal strengthening member, and it was never used as a seat. The first five strakes were apparently beveled to meet at the bow and stern (where they were stitched together): the gunwale strakes stopped just short of one another, leaving a V-shaped gap at the ends through which fishing or harpoon lines could run. Half-round "ears" were sewn atop the ends of the gunwale strakes, raising the height of the V. While claims are made that these served as washboards, they appear too small to have been functional: I believe they were primarily decorative. A rope was passed around the both ends, just inboard of the ears, to keep the uppermost strakes from spreading.

After planking was complete, internal stem- and sternposts were added. These were triangular in cross-section and extended from the bottom plank to the top of the fifth strake, and were fastened with yop and stitches.

Excess yop was then scraped off and the wood was sanded again and sealed with pine pitch. Red ochre was added to the pitch for color. Using a raccoon-tail brush, all stitches were painted black. The ears were often decorated with shell inlays in geometric patterns, and occasionally crushed abalone shell was dusted onto the pine pitch sealant while it was still tacky: this made the whole boat sparkle in the sunlight.

Helek, a replica tomol (26.5' LOA) built in 1976.

Construction of a tomol took two to six months for seven workers– a really significant outlay of labor and resources for a hunter-gatherer society. The boats were highly valued and received daily maintenance. Although they leaked badly and required almost constant bailing, they were seaworthy and well-suited to the needs of their builders. According to a Spanish sea captain's report in 1602:

"A canoe came out to us with two Indian fishermen, who had a great quantity of fish, rowing so swiftly that they seemed to fly.... After they had gone five Indians came out in another canoe, so well constructed and built that since Noah's Ark a finer and lighter vessel with timbers better made has not been seen."

After the Spanish settled the Santa Barbara region, Chumash boatbuilders produced tomols for the Spanish missions, which relied on them for communications and trade. The design of the tomol did not change, but the Spanish made sawn lumber and steel tools available, and this must have greatly telescoped the building process. 

A tomol replica: does anyone know where this is and who built it?

MAIN SOURCES: 
Jeanne E. Arnold, "Credit Where Credit is Due: The History of the Chumash Oceangoing Plank Canoe," American Antiquity, 72(2), 2007, pp. 196-209
Dee Travis Hudson, "Chumash Canoes of Mission Santa Barbara: the Revolt of 1824," Journal of California Anthropology, 1976
Brian Fagan, "The Chumash," in Time Detectives. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1995

The Chumash and the Tomol

A tomol replica built in 1976. Source: Chumash Maritime Organization. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The Chumash were a North American maritime culture, originally based on the mainland and Channel Islands on both sides of the Santa Barbara Channel in California. (I use the past tense in describing the culture as maritime for, while many Chumash people still remain in the area, their culture is no longer defined by maritime activities.) The area is particularly rich in marine resources, and the Chumash used at least three kinds of boats to exploit them.

Probably the first to appear was the tule reed "balsa," a raft of bundled reeds. It seems likely that tule balsas provided the means by which the islands were settled some 12,000 years ago, long before Chumash culture arose. Bundle boats are among the simplest of all watercraft to produce, and the main building materials were readily available in large quantities on the mainland shores of the Santa Barbara Channel, and in smaller amounts on the islands. In addition to large beds of reeds, naturally-occurring tar, in the form of asphaltum, is found in the area, and the Chumash used this to coat the reed bundles and increase their water resistance.

Even with a tar coating, tule reeds are a short-lived commodity, so hard evidence for the use of such craft so long ago is hard to come by. But the early occupation of the islands, and evidence of cross-channel trade that followed it but predates the probable development of other boat types, indicate that some sort of watercraft was in regular use, as do excavations of dwelling sites that indicate that the Chumash diet included marine animals that would have been difficult to obtain without the use of a boat.

Tule reed balsas were still in use at the beginning of the historic era (around the middle of the 16th century AD), when the Spanish first explored and later colonized the area. They were about 2.5 meters LOA and capable of carrying two or three people. They were used primarily for nearshore and coastal fishing and transport, and occasionally for cross-channel crossings. The Chumash also had dugout canoes, but confined them to nearshore and coastal use.

The boat for which the Chumash are best known was a large and highly capable sewn-plank canoe called a tomol. The tomol has been called "the single most important, valuable property in the Chumash economy" and "one of the most sophisticated technological innovations in precolonial North America," and described as "(possibly) the most sophisticated and laborious-to-build large watercraft of the New World," requiring costly materials and some 500 man-days of skilled labor to construct (All three quotations: Arnold, 2007).

As an unusually expensive construction, it is not surprising that the tomol played a central role in Chumash culture. Its development around 500 AD gave rise to the culture's central economic activities (fishing for large, powerful fish species, and trade), and defined important aspects of cultural hierarchy, including the creation of economic elites and the centralization of power in chiefdoms.

Lines for the replica tomol shown above, based on a boat built in 1912 by an old Chumash master builder. The replica boat was 26.5 feet LOA.

Tomols ranged from 3.7 to 9 meters LOA, with most between 6 and 7 meters. They were double-ended, with flat bottoms and lightly-curved sides that sloped sharply outward. Those of the most common size could carry two tons of cargo or 12 passengers, although far more passengers could be carried in a pinch. During the Chumash revolt in 1824, two tomols carried 50 adults and children, including crew, cross-channel from Mission Santa Barbara to escape from Spanish forces.

Crews ranged from three to six men including a man assigned to bailing, for the tomol leaked constantly. Paddlers knelt on grass mats in the bottom, using double-bladed paddles with very long shafts and small, gourd-shaped blades.

Tomols were launched from open beaches. They were light, and were launched by being lifted and placed in water deep enough to float them before they were loaded. One man remained in the water to help hold the boat bow-on to waves and give the boat a good shove to get it started.

Paddle strokes were coordinated among the crew. It's reported that a good crew could paddle all day, repeating this song over and over:

The canoe / Courage! / You have the power to succeed in reaching the other side, so that you may get where you want to go . . .

All common fishing methods were conducted from the tomol: hook and line (using hooks made of shell), netting, trapping, harpooning, and collecting by hand. Large, aggressive species, including swordfish, marlin, tuna, shark and giant sea bass were caught, as were anchovy, abalone, and sea mammals.

The tomol made possible regular cross-channel trade in large, heavy, bulky items and nonessentials. Mainland exports to the islands included stone mortars and vessels, stone tool cores, bundles of milkweed fiber (used for binding, including stitching the tomol's planks), seeds, acorns, deer, bows and arrows, and large chunks of asphaltum. Reverse trade consisted mainly of finished products of stone or bone, baskets, and otter pelts.

Considerable non-trade travel also occurred, probably for social, matrimonial and ceremonial purposes, the last of which might include the movement of an entire village. Fares were sometimes paid with shell bead money.

Tomol construction was controlled by a guild and supervised by a master builder, known as the altomolich, who directed a building crew of six in a range of skilled tasks, including getting out and fitting planks, fastening, caulking, and decorating. In control of such a critical economic activity, the altomolich was of high status and well compensated. Only chiefs and altomolichs could afford to own tomols, and sometimes the two roles were held by a single individual.

Stay tuned. We'll continue to look at the tomol in future posts.

UPDATE, 2 May, 2014: Reader Yoram Meroz has pointed out his recent paper on the indigenous Chumash source of tomol technology. It convincingly refutes the theory that the tomol was introduced from Polynesia.

MAIN SOURCES: 
Jeanne E. Arnold, "Credit Where Credit is Due: The History of the Chumash Oceangoing Plank Canoe," American Antiquity, 72(2), 2007, pp. 196-209
Dee Travis Hudson, "Chumash Canoes of Mission Santa Barbara: the Revolt of 1824," Journal of California Anthropology, 1976
Brian Fagan, "The Chumash," in Time Detectives. New York: Simon & Schuster, 1995

Updates on Old and Ancient Canoes

A couple years ago, I noted briefly the discovery of a 230-year-old Canadian birchbark canoe, believed to be the oldest surviving example, in an English barn. At that time, a plan had been announced to transfer it to the Canadian Canoe Museum for study and conservation. The transfer has now been effected, and there are two good articles, one in the Winnipeg Free Press focusing on the news of the transfer, the other, by bark canoe expert Henri Vaillancourt in WoodenBoat, focusing on the canoe itself and its history (after following the link, click the tab "Open Article" for a readable version).

More recently, I noted the discovery of the remains of a Bronze-Age settlement in Whittlesey, near Peterborough, England, that included six dugout canoes. I recently came across an article in The Guardian/The Observer that included the photo above, a much better one than I could find for my earlier post. In addition to the thinness of the hull, indicating the sophisticated skill of the canoe's builder, the photo shows how the excavation left transverse beams of earth intact across the hull to retain its shape.

Back to the subject of birchbarks, here's a fine video illustrating their construction in great detail:

Authentic Fiberglass Birchbark Canoes

Of course the title of this post is meant as a malapropism, but John Lindman of the Bark Canoe Store comes as close as anyone to making an "authentic" birchbark canoe out of fiberglass.


Lindman is well-known as a skilled builder of real birchbark canoes, of which he's built a variety of styles.  But as anyone who has ever looked into owning a real birchbark canoe quickly finds, the craft are expensive. Lindman's least expensive grade runs $345 per linear foot, and I know of at least one bark canoe builder who charges $1,000 per foot. Furthermore, they're not the easiest boats to maintain, and they don't fare well in dry climates like the U.S. Southwest.


Because of these drawbacks, there is a small but apparently worthwhile market for canoes that look like birchbarks but are made from modern composites. (We're not talking here about the products of some canoe makers who take a standard canoe hull and just paint the outside to look vaguely like birchbark. These are generally laughable, since they invariably show the wrong side of the "bark" facing out.) This would include at least three sub-groups: i)  folks who simply want something that looks credibly like an authentic, old-time artifact but either can't afford one or can't be troubled with the practical liabilities of owning the real thing; ii) historical reenactors; and iii) producers of movies, historic documentaries, and public events.

One of Lindman's "hybrid"-construction Algonquin replica canoes

Lindman serves these markets with a range of fiberglass replicas in three grades. The bottom of the line is built like a conventional fiberglass canoe, with lines that replicate Algonquin and Ojibwa types. Gunwales are real wood, lashed with plastic imitation split root. Next up is an infusion-molded version of the same designs, with internal ribs. In infusion molding, the fiberglass or other fabric is laid up dry on the mold. It is then covered with a plastic sheet which is hooked up to a vacuum pump. As the pump draws air out from beneath the sheet, liquid resin -- in Lindman's case, vinylester resin -- is drawn in by the vacuum. The result is consistent wet-out of the fabric without any excess resin to add weight. Lindman's website says the ribs are made of "core material," but since various materials may be used as cores in composite boatbuilding, this is ambiguous. Both the economy and the infusion-molded canoes are available fully assembled or as kits with the hulls complete and components that must be finished and assembled by the customer.


The third and most costly of the fiberglass replica canoes is a hybrid, using a fiberglass outer hull and cedar sheathing and ribs, and real split-root lashings, as in a real birchbark canoe.


All three versions are properly painted to represent the dark brown inside surface of the bark facing out, with seams between bark panels and at gores sealed with pitch. They really do look quite authentic -- good enough for use in movies and reenactments -- and I suspect they consistently fool folks who have never seen a real birchbark canoe.


Lindman publishes an occasional e-newsletter with news about bark canoes and his shop's doings. Subscribe here.

César's Bark Canoe

This video by Canada's National Film Board is familiar to many bark canoe aficionados. For those not familiar with it: it's a well filmed, very detailed step-by-step coverage of bark canoe construction. According to the NFB website:

This documentary shows how a canoe is built the old way. César Newashish, a 67-year-old Attikamek of the Manawan Reserve north of Montreal, uses only birchbark, cedar splints, spruce roots and gum. Building a canoe solely from the materials that the forest provides may become a lost art, even among the Native peoples whose traditional craft it is. The film is without commentary but text frames appear on the screen in Cree, French and English.