Book Review: The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of Northern Eurasia, by Harri Luukkanen and William W. Fitzhugh

There are strong but superficial similarities between The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of Northern Eurasia, a new book by Harri Luukkanen and William W. Fitzhugh, and the 1964 classic The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America by Edwin Tappan Adney and Howard I. Chapelle. Obviously, there is the title, clearly meant as a respectful acknowledgement of the older work. The two books have the same publisher (Smithsonian), and the same format, both being oversize, printed in black and white, with the text laid out in two columns per page. Luukkanen and Fitzhugh even call their work a “sequel” to Adney & Chapelle. In spite of all this, Northern Eurasia really is a different sort of book from North America. This makes it no less excellent than the older work that it honors, but to appreciate this, the reader must overcome any preconceptions that the similarities might instill. Taken on its own terms, is excellent scholarship and a valuable contribution to the field of small craft studies.

The book’s Introduction contains an explicit homage to “Adney & Chapelle” and a description of that book’s origins. It then goes on to describe the rationale for the present study, which basically boils down to two facts: in spite of the vast region’s long and pervasive use of these types of watercraft, the subject has never been systematically studied; and most studies of particular boats or types in the region are not available in English – or, indeed, in any Western European language. The Introduction then defines the geographic area of the study and the types of boats under consideration.

Chapter 1 describes the geography of northern Eurasia, including overviews of its climate zones, and river systems, cultures and their histories, and a brief contextualization of the region’s archaeology and the relationship between boat studies in northern Eurasia and North America.

Chapter 2, titled “Boat Classification, Construction, and Regional Distribution”, is essentially a summary and synthesis of Chapters 3-9, each of which focuses on a different geographic sub-region of northern Eurasia. The authors present a typology of the region’s various bark canoes and skin boats, based on major construction methods and morphology, and divided along lines of geography and culture groups. The authors conclude that bark canoe types tend to be fairly consistent within major river basins, even if more than one culture is resident, and that this intra-basin consistency is greater than that found among single cultures whose territories run across two or more river basins. The authors also draw attention to the large varieties of open and decked skin boats, both of which were found to be widely distributed across the region among a great many of its cultures.

One might question the placement of this chapter before, rather than after, the presentation of data in chapters 3-9. For scholars who are knowledgable about Eurasian cultures, this will make good sense, as a summary and synthesis may be primarily what is needed, and the reader can use it as a guide to targeted reading of the following chapters. For many readers, though, it may prove confusing or frustrating, as much of the geography and many of the cultures discussed will be unfamiliar to most Westerners. For readers (myself included) who don’t know the Vepsians, the Evenks, the Yugra, the Kereks, and many other cultures mentioned, the chapter is somewhat bewildering, in spite of brief overviews in the Introduction. Such readers might be advised to read this chapter later.

The real meat of the book appears in chapters 3-9, concerning Northern Europe (Ch. 3; Germany, southern Baltics, Fennoscandia); Northeastern Europe (Ch. 4; eastern Baltics, western Urals); Western Siberia (Ch. 5); Central Siberia (Ch. 6); Eastern Siberia (Ch. 7); Pacific Siberia (Ch. 8; Chukotka, Kamchatka, and the Kuril Islands); and the Far East (Ch. 9; Manchuria, Sakhalin Island, China, and northern Japan).

As the authors note, it is ironic that northern Europe – the area probably most familiar to most readers, and the one for which there is the best historic literature – has the poorest archaeological record for bark canoes and skin boats. The reader is introduced to the authors’ method, in which data are presented in detail and analyzed at length. There are lengthy descriptions of the ethnohistorical data and the archaeological evidence. For example, prehistoric Scandinavian rock art depictions of boats have been addressed by several authors, and no agreement has yet been reached within the archaeology community as to whether these petroglyphs represent logboats, skin boats, bark canoes, or even watercraft at all. Luukkanen and Fitzhugh review the arguments in detail and at length and bring new data and interpretations to the debate, but are cautious of reaching firm conclusions. This may be disappointing for those looking for straightforward answers, but it is intellectually honest to an extent not always seen in maritime archaeology – much less in books written for non-specialist, “enthusiast” audiences.

Most chapters follow a regular organization: the geographic sub-region is introduced and the deep history of its cultures described. This is highly useful to those readers who are unfamiliar with the numerous cultures. The general archaeology for the region’s cultural history is presented, followed by separate sections on each of individual cultures to be discussed. Within each section, the archaeological evidence for boat usage – much of which is often indirect – is presented first, followed by historical and ethnohistorical data. As archaeological evidence is generally scanty, it is not until the latter stages that we typically get images of boats, details of construction, and descriptions of usage. The ethnohistorical data varies a great deal in quality, from mere mentions by early explorers or merchants of the existence of certain boat types among the various nations, to the careful (but unfortunately rare) descriptions of boat structure and construction by trained observers. Likewise, the accompanying figures vary from the highly romanticized and technically inaccurate renderings one sees in travelogues and maps from the 16^th and 17^th centures, to careful, precise boat surveys that show the boats’ lines and construction details, and photographs of full-size boats in use in the early 20^th century and models in museum collections.

The final chapter, called an Epilogue, by Arctic boat scholar Evguenia (Jenya) Anichtchenko, addresses the relationship between the Eurasian and North American boat traditions. This presents the data and theories for diffusion between the two regions, and notes the surprisingly thin evidence for much direct influence across the narrow Bering Strait.

Overall, The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of Northern Eurasia provides a comprehensive, fine-grained look at its subject as ethnology, concentrating on the evidence from archaeology and ethnohistory. Those expecting a Eurasian equivalent to The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America may be disappointed. The older book’s strengths are in its descriptions of construction methods and structural details, and especially, in the quality of the boat plans. These were possible because Adney and Chapelle were writing about boat traditions which, although on their last legs, were still extant. Construction by individuals brought up in the indigenous traditions could still be observed and documented, and the boats themselves could still be surveyed in detail. The result was a book that has often served as a construction manual – complete with designs – for countless individuals to build their own replicas.

This was not possible for the boats of Eurasia. Most of the boats discussed disappeared generations or centuries ago – before there was a chance for much ethnographic recording. This means that construction methods are generally described in far less detail – if at all – and boat plans are few. Unfortunately for the enthusiast, those that are present are generally reproduced too small to be of practical use, and this criticism can be applied to the art program of the book in general. With few exceptions, figures are reproduced to the width of one column on the two-column pages, making legibility poor for drawings and photographs alike. Drawings produced especially for the book, mostly for the purpose of typological description or clarification, are sketchy and not of professional quality, making it difficult to understand differences in boat types. Maps, on the other hand, are excellent and are reproduced at full page width, for good legibility. All illustrations are in black and white only, which is not a liablity, since only a very few recent photos of boat models in museum collections would have been created in color.

The amount of detail and the length of some discussions can be heavy going, but they provide excellent perspectives on what is known, what can be surmised, and what is debatable. By highlighting open questions, the authors have set out challenges, or even roadmaps, to other researchers who, I expect, will respond with future research papers and possibly some PhD theses.

The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of Northern Eurasia is a major contribution to ethnological boat studies. Particularly for those familiar mainly with the boats of North America and western Europe, it is a broad and comprehensive introduction to the archaeology and history of small craft of a region rarely discussed in the English-language literature. It will take its place as an essential reference, next to The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America, not as a sequel, but in its own right.

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The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of Northern Eurasia
by Harri Luukkanen and William W. Fitzhugh
Smithsonian Books, Washington DC
$64.00; 276 pages
ISBN 978-1-58834-475-5

Harvey Golden's Magnificent Kayak Surveys

 

My usual approach to using reading material for this blog is to take some interesting (to me) facts that I read concerning some kind of boat, or some culture's use of boats, and condense, paraphrase, or synthesize the source into an article, hopefully for the benefit or entertainment of my readers. Sometimes I rely entirely on a single source; at others, I'll do a little more digging into the subject and put together what amounts to an essay on the subject.

This time, the books themselves are the subject, because Harvey Golden's Kayaks of Alaska (2015) and Kayaks of Greenland: The History and Development of the Greenlandic Hunting Kayak, 1600-2000 (2006) are huge, valuable, awesomely impressive, and worthy of an article about themselves. When I opened the mailing package that contained them, I was, without exaggeration, awestruck by the enormous quantity of sheer fact they contain and the clarity of its presentation. Having lived with them for a few months now, my opinion has not diminished a bit.

Golden is an independent researcher in the field of museum studies. He has examined and surveyed almost every historically significant kayak held in museum collections and many private collections in Europe and North America, taking off lines, photographing and sketching the most minute and intricate details, and delving into the collections' documentation and the historical, popular, and academic writings of others. When personally surveying an artifact, no detail seems to escape his notice. If a deck line had once been present on a kayak but was later removed, perhaps 200 years ago, Golden is certain to have detected it by the presence of a tiny nub of a thong cut off close to the deck. 

Kayaks of Alaska and Kayaks of Greenland divide the boats surveyed by geographic and cultural ranges, each associated with different boat types. In the Greenland book, Golden creates a typology of eight types, although the distinctions between the types are sometimes difficult to see. Certainly, the kayaks of Greenland are more similar to one another than the kayaks of Alaska, where the differences between nine regional types Golden describes are in some cases really dramatic. Hereafter, we'll focus on the more recent Kayaks of Alaska. Kayaks of Greenland is similar in most respects.

A kayak from Point Barrow, from Kayaks of Alaska (Click any image to enlarge.)

Kayaks of Alaska begins with a short chapter of history. This is followed by nine chapters on the kayaks of different regions -- said regions defined by cultural borders and the distinct types of kayaks used within them (e.g., Unangan, Central Yup'ik, Southern Inupiaq, etc.). These nine sections, therefore, constitute a typology of Alaskan kayaks, one which Golden has developed as an expansion on the thinking of kayak scholars before him.

Lines of a North Alaska kayak in the Burke Museum, Seattle, from Kayaks of Alaska

Each chapter on a kayak type begins with a more detailed history of the kayaks themselves and of the history and scholarship concerning those kayaks, illustrated with drawings and photographs from historical and academic sources as well as Golden's own illustrations. The type is clearly and exhaustively defined and variations are discussed. This is followed by a series of plates of lines and construction drawings of several artefactual kayaks of the type, the plates being followed by a section containing detailed descriptions of each one. These descriptions discuss the artifact's provenance, its condition, and construction and decorative details; compare and contrast it to others of the same type; and in some cases discuss the construction of recent replicas and their performance. (Golden has built several, which he maintains in his own museum, the Lincoln Street Kayak & Canoe Museum in Portland, OR.)

Construction plan of a North Alaska Kayak at the Center for Wooden Boats, Seattle, from Kayaks of Alaska

Golden produces his lines drawings by hand, and they are admirably clean and detailed. In several instances where the kayak has been damaged by accident or deformed by inadequate support over the years, he reproduces the lines "as surveyed," and beside them shows lines for a likely "as-built" reconstruction based on the scantlings of the boat and on the form of other kayaks of the same type. In cases where good lines drawings were already made by others, he reproduces these instead. 

Interior construction details of an Alaskan kayak, from Kayaks of Alaska

In addition to standard waterline, sheer plan, and section lines, several of the kayaks are presented in a three-quarters view that gives one an excellent feel for the shape that standard views sometimes fail to impart. He also includes sketches of numerous construction and decorative details, deck fittings, and deck equipment associated with the boat in question.

Kayak builders, from Kayaks of Alaska

Chapters on kayak construction, equipment, and paddles follow the chapters on kayak types. The chapter on construction is not a "how-to," however: it will tell you little or nothing about how to select lumber, cut a mortise, or steam-bend a rib. Rather, it addresses the construction details that are common to many or all of the boats, right down to details such as knots and lashing patterns for the joints between longitudinal and transverse structural members. (Deviations from common construction methods are covered in minute detail in the descriptions of the individual artifacts that follow the plates in each "type" chapter.) If you want to build one of the boats in this book and lack knowledge of skin-on-frame construction methods, I recommend The Aleutian Kayak by Wolfgang Brinck and Building the Greenland Kayak by Christopher Cunningham (neither of which, I believe, are in print). For would-be builders who do possess building skills, Kayaks of Alaska and Kayaks of Greenland contain the necessary lines and construction details, but not tables of offsets, from which accurate reproductions can be built. (Golden provides instructions for lifting offsets from the plans on his website.)

A charming bonus in Kayaks of Alaska is a section of color plates containing reproductions of Golden's hand-drawn depictions of colored decorative details on many of the kayaks and paddles. Aside from this, all illustrations in both books are in black and white.

These are big, heavy books, each 8.5" x 11" and over 500 pages. As self-published projects, they are extraordinary for the quality of their production, but this is almost trivial compared to the quality and value of their contents. They are not books that many will sit down and read cover-to-cover, for the descriptions of thousands of details on dozens of kayaks do not make for an engaging narrative. But one can dip into them at any point and learn something about kayak history or about a particular design, and as reference sources, they are incomparable in their clear and comprehensive coverage of their subjects.

In the immense contribution they make to the study of indigenous watercraft, Golden's books stand as equals to Adney and Chapelle's The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America and Haddon and Hornell's Canoes of Oceania. Kayaks of Alaska and Kayaks of Greenland are magnificent achievements. 

* * *

Visit Harvey Golden's website to purchase Kayaks of Alaska and Kayaks of Greenland. IndigenousBoats.com has no business affiliation with Harvey Golden, and we make no commissions on sales of his books. 

Best Resource for Indigenous Boats Ever!

The title of this post is hyperbole in only the slightest degree, for Admiral A. Bertrand Paris's work Essai sur la Construction Navale des Peuples Extra-Europeéns (Essay on the Boatbuilding of Non-European People) is without doubt a superbly valuable resource for anyone seeking design and construction details of native watercraft from around the world at or around 1841. (Pity that it's in French.) 

Pointed out to me by Capt. Robert Whitehurst, Admiral Paris's book is available for download in numerous formats at the Internet Archive. The work is subtitled Collection des navires et pirogues construits par les habitants de l'Aise, de la Malaisie, du Grand Océan et de l'Amérique (Collection of ships and boats built by the inhabitants of Asia, Malaysia, the Great [i.e., Pacific] Ocean and the Americas). In spite of its length and apparent comprehensiveness, the subtitle omits Africa, which is also represented in the book.

Along with thousands of detailed, measured, engineering-style drawings and lines drawings, Paris includes hundreds of wonderful sketches of boats in use in their native habits -- wonderful as much for their artistry as for their detail and accuracy. Just to try to get you to go over to the Internet Archive to view (and hopefully, download) the entire book, I'll include a few representative images here.

Sail, construction, and lines plans of dhows (click any image to enlarge) 

Beached dhows 

A scene in Valparaiso, Chile, including (at right) an raft buoyed by inflated skins (presumably seal or sea lion)

Detail drawing of the inflated skin raft in the previous image

Log boats, single- and double-outrigger canoes, umiaks, kayaks, bark boats, dhows, rafts...these are just a tiny sampling from a superb resource that has the power to hold the attention of any indigenous boats fans for hours. Do yourself a favor and check out the full document.

Capt. Whitehurst also kindly provided these links to biographical background on Admiral Paris:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fran%C3%A7ois-Edmond_P%C3%A2ris

http://www.epochtimes.fr/front/10/10/17/n3503596/tous-les-bateaux-du-monde.htm

http://www.yachtonline.it/people-en/francois-edmond-paris-watercolours

http://anmm.wordpress.com/2010/01/07/admiral-pariss-amazing-encyclopedia/

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. 

Lockley's Curragh

(click any image to enlarge)

A skilled naturalist and prolific writer, R.M. Lockley (1903-2000) wrote more than 50 books, many of them about the wildlife of the British Isles. While recovering from injuries suffered while on service during the Second World War, he discovered, on a secluded beach at the base of a cliff on a remote part of the Welsh coast, a breeding colony of harbor seals. A year later, with the war still underway, he sailed there in a curragh, beneath which, overturned, he camped for months while studying the seals' breeding habits.

The Seals and the Curragh is Lockley's account of that idyll. And though the curragh gets major billing in the title, it plays a minor role in the book, which concentrates more on the seals, on conservation, and on Lockley's charming relationship with Tessa, a 13-year-old girl, a refugee from London who lived in the home of a local Welsh farmer and who brought Lockley milk, helped him in his studies, and kept him company at his secluded campsite. This was a time when a man's intentions toward minors were assumed to be honorable (or, at least, those of men of a certain class), and Lockley's description of his innocent relationship with Tessa recalls what seems now a time of great naivete and purity (strange, that, during the most destructive war in history, describing a relationship between an injured soldier and a girl who had lost her mother to a German bomb and whose soldier father was presumed dead in Singapore).

So the curragh gets fairly short shrift, overshadowed by the seals, Tessa, and Lockley's progressive concern for the natural environmental. We are, however, treated to the following:

Giddy  -- that's how the Irish describe a curragh in one natural word of caution; but it gave you a marvellous feeling to watch a Dingle or Blasket man handle one. Like a fleet-toed dancer the curragh skimmed over the white breaking currents, a living bird of the waves, safe in the skilled hands of the men of the Irish south-west.

The Welsh fishermen had gasped at her long length of twenty-five feet and narrow beam of four feet with horror. Nor had these men of the grey coast appreciated the smiling eye and shark teeth which I had painted each side of the bow, in the Iberian fashion, to give life to the black tarred hull. It was the evil eye to them; they were afraid of that which they could not understand.

Lockley's extraordinarily painted curragh running before the wind. The lightweight boat appears to be on plane.

Aside from this, we learn only a little about the boat itself: The tarred skin over its wooden framework was of canvas. It had a small lugsail which, in the book's only photo of the boat, is turned athwartships with its peak lowered almost to horizontal, a virtual squaresail for when the boat runs before the wind. Two sets of reef points are visible, but no forestay, and one suspects the absence of shrouds and backstay. There was a sloping transom, but no keel or other underwater plane. It had tholepins (single or double is not clear) for rowing. And steering was by means of a paddle held over the starboard quarter. It was capable of being easily rowed, dragged ashore, and overturned, all by one man, and it could carry some number of sheep between the mainland and islands off the coast. Judging by Lockley's description of sailing through a storm while alongshore, it was extremely seaworthy.

Lockley and Tessa voyaging to a small island near the seal nursery to check on Lockley's sheep. Illustration by Lockley.

More Alaska Eskimo Maritime Items: Peabody Museum #3

Let's look at more Aleut and other Alaskan Eskimo maritime and related cultural items at Harvard University's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. (See previous posts on the museum's Baffinland Inuit and other Aleut exhibits.) All quotations are from exhibit display cards.

"Diorama of Alaska Eskimo House Group" is, unfortunately, all the information given, so the specific locale is a mystery to me. At right is a cutaway view of a semi-subterranean, multi-family house, fairly similar to the Aleut one shown in the previous post, except that this one has its entrance through the side, rather than through the roof. Planks are used to extend the walls above ground level and as roof structure, then the whole is covered with a thick layer of earth. At center are plank-built structures: I believe the one in the foreground is a fishing shack that would be set up right at the edge of the shore, and the one behind it either for gear storage or ceremonial use. In the background are several food cache structures. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Close-up of the diorama's right side. At left is a man with a fish trap. To his right are drying racks for split fish, likely cod or halibut. A paddle on the ground beside the kayak has a single blade of an unusual shape. 

Close-up of the kayak at the far left of the top photo. According to Harvey Golden, founder of the Lincoln Street Kayak & Canoe Museum in Portland, Oregon, it's "a Central Yup'ik kayak-- the type used on the Yukon-Kuskokwim Delta and adjacent coasts and Islands (including Nunivak Island)." (Almost simultaneously, this blog received a comment from "John," also identifying it as a Central Yupik type. John's comment is worth reading.)

The Yupik kayak as shown in Adney & Chappelle's The Bark Canoes and Skin Boats of North America. As Harvey Golden notes, "the scale drawings of these types make them look massive and blocky, but as the model shows, they are rather elegant craft." Harvey has built a wonderful replica of this kayak, and he reports that another is near completion.

Man's hat, typical of the Aleutians and southwest Alaska, early 19th century. "The caribou effigies at the top of the ivory wing pieces are unusual, because sea hunting equipment rarely depicts land animals."

A wooden helmet from Kodiak Island, collection before 1869. This was worn on top of the head when hunting seals on the sea ice. Hunters would typically hide behind rocks or ice blocks, peering carefully while disguised as a seal and awaiting the moment when a real seal was far enough from open water to dash out of cover and make the kill with either a spear or a club.

Model of a three-hole kayak, similar to those in the previous post. The bow paddler wears a gutskin paddling jacket and a decorated bentwood hat topped with a bird effigy -- possibly a sign of status. The other men wear wooden visors. The man in the center cockpit is about to hurl a harpoon with a throwing board.

Upper left: whale amulet, stone, Point Barrow, prior to 1894. Lower left: sea otter amulet, walrus ivory. "It was probably tied to the inside of a kayak rim where it improved the fortune of the hunter. Bristol Bay or Aleutian region, prior to 1867. Center: Whaling harpoon rest from north Alaska. "The large heads carved out of walrus ivory are polar bears, while the smaller ones are either white fox or, possibly, sea otter. The wide U-shaped opening rested on the gunwales of an umiak during the whale hunt, so only the small inoffensive animals could be 'seen' by the whales. Early 19th century. Upper right: ivory toggle in the shape of a seal: possibly a clothing fastener. Collected on Norton Sound prior to 1888. Lower right: amulet of a bear jaw: probably carried for protection when hunting bear.

A floating seal lure, collected prior to 1894. "This sea mammal effigy is made out of wood and fossil ivory. It rattled when it bobbed around in the water, thus attracting a seal.... (It) was collected at Point Barrow, but it is more ornate than what is usually found in that area." 

Two tobacco pipes of walrus ivory. The bowl of the upper one is in the form of a walrus's head (lying on its back, facing upward), and the spike attached by a carved chain of ivory is a probably representational, not functional, pipe cleaner. Both show many incised carvings of sea mammals, birds, game, hunting scenes, fish and fishing, and umiaks. On the upper edge of the lower pipe, about halfway between bowl and mouthpiece and shown upside-down, is a boat (probably an umiak) with a mast supporting a mainsail and topsail. Partially visible in the upper left is an ivory bow from a bow drill collected mid-19th century from Norton Sound and almost certainly nonfunctional. All of these were probably produced for sale to outsiders.

Alaskan/Aleut Diorama, Kayaks: Peabody Museum #2

Here's a look at a display of Alaskan, and specifically Aleut, items at Harvard's Peabody Museum of Archaeology and Ethnology. (We previously blogged about the Peabody's fine diorama of a Baffinland Inuit settlement.) I apologize for the quality of the photography, which was shot on my mobile phone, through glass, without a flash.

The diorama shows a "typical late18th century Unangan (Aleut) settlement in the eastern Aleutian Islands... . Some Unangan village settlements were occupied continuously for over 4,000 years. The houses depicted here are rectangular, semi-subterranean, and are accessed through a hole in the roof. They were inhabited by a number of families which occupy separate areas along the sides and ends." The white object left of center is a seal or sea lion skin stretched on a frame. It is being prepared for use as part of the cover of a kayak. (The quotation is from the display card. Click any image to enlarge.)   

To the diorama's right of center, a man works on his overturned kayak, of a type typical of Kodiak Island and displaying the distinctive Aleut stern. His double-bladed paddle is much shorter than the Eastern Inuit paddle shown in the previous post, and the blades are broader. The function of the different colors of the two blades is, I presume, purely decorative.

The man in the previous photo wears a paddling hat much like this one, collected in 1867 or '68. To quote the display card: "This hat is an effigy of some unknown creature. It is made of bent wood (probably spruce) and held together using baleen stitches. The wing ornaments are made of bone, and there are attachments of fur, feathers, and multicolored thread....The red flannel once held sea-lion whiskers." 

The kayak at the diorama's center shows a full complement of deck gear, including paddle, harpoon, possibly a throwing stick (i.e., atl atl) and what I believe are javelins on the aft deck. A bent-wood box is also seen.

Kayaks are stored fairly low off the ground on wood supports. Unlike the Baffinland Inuit, the Kodiak Island Aleuts had no dogs from which they needed to protect the boats' skin covers.

Model of an Kodiak Island 3-hole kayak. The three-person baidarka came into use after the coming of Russian fur traders, who typically sat in the center cockpit and did not paddle. 

Model showing the frame of a three-hole kayak similar to the one above, displaying the distinctive bifurcated stem and vertical sternpost. The kayak is very roomy, suitable for carrying large cargoes of fur -- especially of the favored sea otter.

From the display card: "This adult parka, or kamleika, is fashioned from seal intestine sewn with caribou sinew. The parka's detail is elaborate, and it lacks a drawstring for kayaking, which suggests it may have been used for a special occasion. Elaborate parkas were used in dance ceremonies before launching kayaks for hunting trips." The small child's kamleika features details of hair of a type unspecified, and also lacks a drawstring. 

Because strips of intestine are so narrow, a great deal of sewing was required to produce garments of this type. If the kamleika was intended for kayaking, not show, that sewing must have required the most painstaking effort to ensure water-tightness.  

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.