Two Indigenous North American Boats in Maine Museums

A couple of trips to small museums in Maine yielded two nice boats: a bark canoe and a skin-of-frame kayak. It's almost like a snapshot from Adney and Chapelle's The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America. 

The canoe, at the Abbe Museum in Bar Harbor, is a fine reproduction. (We've written before about the Abbe Museum.) The kayak, at the Peary-MacMillan Arctic Museum at Bowdoin College, in Brunswick, is an authentic artifact.

Birchbark canoe of the Penobscot style at the Abbe Museum, built by Steve Cayard and David Moses Bridges. It's 14 feet long, weighs 50 lb., and according to the exhibit card, it required 500 hours to build, plus 200 hours to gather materials. We've written previously about Steve Cayard's bark canoes, and not coincidentally, the canoe construction of his that we documented was assisted by David Moses Bridges. (Click any image to enlarge.)

The bark along the sides of the canoe is etched in traditional patterns. Bark is harvested in winter to obtain the brown color that can be scraped away to reveal the lighter color underneath. Seams between sections of bark are sewn with spruce root and sealed with pine resin.

Inner and outer gunwales are lashed together with split spruce roots and pegged. A gunwale cap is also pegged in place. The thwart is mortised into the inner gunwale (i.e., inwale) and lashed.  

The bow has an etched flap of bark held against the hull by the outer gunwale. It's known by the Passamaquoddy term for "diaper" and it is purely decorative.

At the Peary-MacMillan Museum: a kayak of Labrador Inuit design, built between 1860 and 1890.  

The very flat deck rises just a bit in front of the cockpit rim to make it easier to enter the kayak. Built to fit its paddler specifically, the kayak would still have been a tight fit. 

One can see the chine timber and one intermediate longitudinal member between it and the sheer timber (which is not visible). The kayak has minimal deck rigging. The paddle just above the kayak is extremely long, and the blades are especially narrow.

A model kayak just below the real one, built around 1914 by an Inuit for the MacMillan expedition's collection. 

The model has more elaborate deck rigging than the real kayak and a different shape cockpit rim. On the after deck is a harpoon line and drag. 

An Inuit child using an empty packing crate ("Spratt's dog biscuits") as a toy kayak, 1913.

Bark Canoe and Skin Kayak Items at L.C. Bates Museum

Although founded in the early 20th century, the L.C. Bates Museum, in Hinckley, Maine, is a throwback to an even earlier time, when many museums were more or less random collections of oddities. Here you will find biological specimens, works of art, and anthropological artifacts side by side, many of them labeled poorly or not at all and too many deteriorating from a lack of care due, apparently, to a paucity of funds.

Nevertheless, it's a fun place to browse on a short visit, it's cheap ($3 for adults), it's on the way to good canoeing and rafting in northern Maine, and it contains a couple exhibits of interest to us. One is about Native American (primarily Maine) birchbark technology; the other displays Greenland Inuit artifacts from the first decade of the 20th century.

This bark canoe model is over 3' long. It's decorated with hundreds of dyed porcupine quills, both ends of which are tucked into small holes pre-punched in the bark. Although the exhibit card says that it's "likely mid-west in origin," the ends are exaggerated representations of those on Canadian fur trade canoes. 

From the exhibit card: "This old, well-made model is an example of the thousands sold to Maine tourists in the late 19th and early 20th century (sic). This canoe shows how heated tree resin was used to seal and waterproof the birch bark joints. The word for canoe in all Abenaki languages in Aquiden."
Below the canoe model is a moose call, also made of birch bark.

An Abenaki canoe paddle, "of a size suited for teaching a young person the art of propelling a canoe."

A 19th century box with hinged covers, probably Penobscot, probably made for the tourist trade and intended for use as a picnic hamper. The crossed paddles and tepee designs -- of poorer quality than the box itself -- are incised in the bark in the same manner that canoes were decorated. 

Perspective view of the same box, with a round covered box, also of birch bark, behind.

The exhibit card identifies the miniature kayaks in this and the following photo as toys, made for indigenous children. This may be incorrect: except for the wooden one (above, right), they were probably made for the tourist trade and/or upon the request of researchers or collectors. The one above left is ivory, and the kayaker's hand is made to hold the harpoon that rests across the cockpit coaming.  

Two nicely authentic skin-on-frame kayak models.

The Greenland kayak was essentially a hunting tool, used primarily in the pursuit of seals and walruses. The main hunting weapon was a harpoon with a detachable head or foreshaft. The largest of these bone harpoon points and fragments are only about 4" long. 

Bowhead Whaling by Umiak

The Inuit people of Alaska's west and northwest coasts -- from Nome to Point Barrow -- hunted whales in umiaks from 1,800 BCE to well into the 20th century. Several villages located on prominent points of land along that coast supported large populations by virtue of their whaling economies.

A six-man Inuit crew hauling their umiak over the ice. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Hunting began each year in early April at the southern end of the range, and late April at the northern, when winds from the land started to open up leads in the ice. Bowheads were the first whale prey each year, although seals would be caught opportunistically during whaling excursions. Whole villages would cooperate by clearing a path through the jumble of grounded sea ice out to the lead. Crews of six men would then haul their umiaks out to the lead, to wait on the ice and watch for a whale. Larger villages might have as many as 15 such crews.

Harpoons with detachable foreshafts were traditionally tipped with flint heads, iron heads being taboo until the 1880s. The heads were attached by rawhide lines to two or three inflated sealskins, each with a buoyancy of 200-300 pounds. After a successful strike, these floats would slow the whale's escape, restrict its ability to sound, and allow the boat crew to follow its flight.

After a struck whale tired and could again be approached closely, work with a ten- to twelve-foot-long, flint-tipped lance began. The lancer would first sever the tendons of the whale's flukes. This prevented it from sounding again and protected the boat and crew from the dangerous thrashing of the tail. Finally, the lancer would probe deep into the whale to make a killing stroke. The boat would retreat a bit until the final thrashing subsided.

A snack break while butchering a whale, up to his waist in frigid water and warm whale carnage.

The whale was then towed to shore (or as close as possible, given the landfast ice), with several umiaks assisting in the tow. During butchering, men were often up to their necks in the frigid water, so they wore waterproof, sealskin suits that covered them from the feet to the head (a predecessor to the modern drysuit).

A waterproof sealskin suit for butchering whales. 

Following a successful hunt, the community would feast on boiled whale meat, then store the rest in prepared ice cellars. After the initial feast, all parts were normally eaten raw. A 50-foot whale might yield 50 tons of meat which, along with the blubber, was divided equally throughout the community. Bone and baleen, however, were the property of the crews of all the boats within sight of the killing. 

The bowhead hunt, like much Inuit hunting behavior, had a strong spiritual component:

"Whaling charms had a compulsive effect, serving to bring the whale close to the boat, to make the animal more tractable and amenable to harpooning, to prevent the lines from slipping and fouling, and the like. The theory with respect to the whale was that the whale soul passed into another animal when the whale was killed. Hence, any irregularity of procedure was offensive to the whale. The animal was thought to be able to see from afar the preparations which were being made, and of course to allow himself to be taken by the men. The associated behavior was therefore both the placate the whale and compel his presence by magical means." ("The North Alaskan Eskimo" Robert Spencer, Bulletin 71 of the Bureau of American Ethnology, 1959)

Amulets were fastened to the boats and to hunters' clothing, and the clothing itself had to be newly-sewn (by the women, of course) and never have been used for hunting other animals. Outer clothing was scraped skin; the inner clothing had the fat still on it, providing extra insulation for the men while they waited on the ice for sight of a whale. Following the whaling season, the clothing could be used for any purpose, but never again for whaling.

During the wait on the ice, no fires could be set, and noise had to be kept to a minimum both on the ice itself and back in the village. (In addition to their spiritual importance, some of the taboos seem to have had entirely practical implications.) The crews also could not set up tents, but could shelter behind windblocks made of ice. During these waits, which might last days or weeks, one man at least was always on watch, while the others could relax or sleep. Taboos also applied to the food that the women would bring to the watchers.

A whale hunting camp on the ice. Note the small dogsled at the left. The photo was taken after canvas tents became available and evidently after the taboo on the use of tents was lifted.

The bowhead run lasted from two to eight weeks each year and was followed by a spring celebration and a shift to other prey.

Primary source (text and images): Use of the Sea by Alaska Natives -- A Historical Perspective. Karla Johnson. Arctic Environmental Information and Data Center, Univ. of Alaska, May, 1974. The quotation is taken from the Johnson work.

Baffinland Inuit Kayaks, Settlement: Peabody Museum #1

This is the first of several planned posts featuring boat-related displays at the Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology at Harvard University. This post focuses on a single diorama of a late 19th-century Eskimo (Inuit) settlement in Baffinland, typical of the culture north and northwest of Hudson's Bay. As this was a distinctly maritime culture, I feel it's appropriate to include discussion of some elements that are not strictly boat-related, such as their housing arrangements.

The Baffinland Eskimo diorama at the Peabody Museum, Harvard University (click any image to enlarge).

The left side of diorama shows the settlement in summer, with the ground bare of snow. In the background is a semi-subterranean, prehistoric dwelling that has been reconditioned for re-use with a covering consisting of two layers of skin, with a layer of heather in between as insulation. Rocks hold the skin against the ground. Note the long, narrow, stone-covered trench entryway.

Near the entry is an inflated sealskin float attached by a long line to a harpoon. When an Eskimo succeeded in harpooning a seal, sea lion, walrus or whale, the float slowed the prey's flight, served as a marker for its location, and prevented it from diving deeply (thus making it an easier target for additional harpoon strikes), or sinking when it died.

Closeup of the previous scene: When not in use during the summer, kayaks were stored well aboveground on stone pillars, to protect their covers from being eaten by hungry dogs.

The right side of the diorama shows a different part of the same settlement in winter, with snow on the ground. The pillars on which the kayaks are stored are made of snow blocks here. In addition to protecting them from hungry dogs, this also prevents them from being covered by snow drifts.

Left background: meat and blubber storage on a platform of granite blocks.

Center background: an igloo under construction. From the display card: "The entryway in the house under construction slopes down gently before abruptly rising into the main vault. This design serves as an effective cold trap for frigid air, enabling the living area to remain warm and comfortable."

To that igloo's right, a man cuts blocks of snow for its construction. Care was taken to cut the blocks from drifts that accumulated during a single storm. This ensured that the blocks were of consistent composition, and avoided layered blocks that might split apart when cut.

Close-up of the right side of the diorama, with the display card's description: "This structure houses two families who share one entrance. The small protruberances along the entryway are storage rooms for either clothing, spare meat, or blubber. The main vault for these winter quarters could be as much as twelve feet high and twelve to fifteen feet in diameter."

The igloos are lined with hide, barely visible around the base of the cutaway structure at right rear. Cords tied to the wooden toggles visible on the exterior of that igloo and the one to its left pass through the snow-block walls to secure the lining.  

Close-up of the three kayaks on the diorama's right side.

The deck gear on the upright kayak includes a sealskin float on the rear deck and, on the foredeck, a shallow, round container that holds the line attached to a harpoon. A very long paddle with very narrow blades, apparently tipped with bone or ivory, rests across the bottoms of the other two overturned boats.  

The kayaks in the diorama are similar in many respects to the Baffin Island kayak from Cape Dorset shown in Adney and Chapelle's The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America. The boats' bottoms are flat in transverse section; the back of the cockpit coamings are straight; the aft decks are low and flat; and the stems are extremely raked and very long above the waterline. 

The Peabody Museum houses excellent permanent and temporary exhibits and collections, mostly of American cultures but also including some other parts of the world. It's attached to a museum of natural history that's included in the price of admission, and both are well worth a visit.