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.

--

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

“Woodskin” Canoes of Guyana

Logboats are probably the best-known Amerindian watercraft in Guyana, but another boat type in common use – at least into the first half of the 20^th century – is the bark canoe. Although terminology differs among various writers, the term “woodskin” is commonly applied to all Guyanese bark canoes.

Akawai open-ended woodskin on the Mazaruni River (Roth, W., 1924:plate 177) Click any image to enlarge.

The most common type of woodskin appears to have been the one with open ends, which was used by many of Guyana’s Amerindian peoples, both near the coast and in the inland “hinterlands”. This was usually made from the bark of the purpleheart tree (Copaifera pubiflora). Several aspects of its construction are unusual, if not unique.

The tree is felled with the bark still attached. Cuts the desired length of the canoe are then made along both sides of the trunk, then these lineal cuts are connected by circumferential cuts at both ends around the top and sides of the trunk and the bark is pried off with wood wedges. There is thus no need to roll the trunk to get at the surface that rests on the ground. Once it is off the trunk, the bark is propped open with sticks between the opposite edges to keep it from closing up again.

This is quite different from the method of harvesting birch bark for North American canoes. There, the tree is left standing and is not killed by being barked. A single slit the length of the canoe (or as long a piece as the tree allows) is made along the height of the trunk, and cuts are made around the entire circumference of the trunk at the top and bottom of the slit, so that the bark is removed in a single piece that completely surrounds the trunk, thus maximizing its width. This is possible because birch bark is relatively thin and quite flexible, while the bark of purpleheart is so thick and stiff that a full circumference could not be opened up around a single split to remove it from the trunk without cracking.

Outer bark removed (right); inner bark folded (left) (Roth, W., 1924:615)

The purpleheart bark is of two layers – a thick, stiff outer one, and a more flexible inner one. The two are removed together from the trunk, then wedges of the outer layer are cut and removed from both edges 2-3 feet (70-100cm) in from both ends, leaving the inner layer intact. With one man standing amidships, another raises one of the ends so that the flexible inner bark folks in upon itself. Holes are punctured through the four layers of bark and the overlapping sections are stitched together with “bush rope” – presumably thin roots, withies, or possibly natural fibers taken from palm leaves or similar. The other end is treated the same way.

Fully-outfitted woodskin with inwales, thwarts, spreaders and tightening ropes (Roth, W., 1924:616).

Details seem to differ from one boat to the next, or possibly according to the practices of different communities or Amerindian peoples, but one common modification is the addition of inwales, which are stitched along the upper edge of the bark amidships, and extend into the raised ends below the top edges, where they help keep the open ends elevated above the waterline. Sometimes sitting thwarts are added, suspended by hangers attached to the inwales. Beams are tied in place to keep the sides apart amidships. Conversely, ropes are used to keep the sides from spreading out too far toward the ends.

Dimensions are typically about 15-16 feet (450-500cm) LOA (although lengths of 25-30 feet/8-9m are reported), 4 feet (125cm) beam, and depth 6-8 inches (15-20cm), with freeboard a mere 3-5 inches (8-12cm).

Closed-end woodskin. Top: bark cuts. Middle: ends folded up. Bottom: outfitted. (Farabee, W. C., 1918:75)

An alternative form, used by the inland Wapisiana Arawak people, has pointed, closed ends. The bark is harvested in the same manner, but after it is removed from the trunk, the top corners at both ends are removed, so that the bark is pointed at both ends. The bark is placed open-side down over a low fire to soften it, then it is expanded and sticks are placed between the opposite sides to keep them spread apart, but apparently not as wide as in the open-ended type. The ends are then folded and raised as above, except that the wedge-shaped sections from which the stiff outer bark is removed are longer, almost touching each other from opposite sides on the bottom of the hull. This seems to produce a hull with a rounder bottom and greater freeboard than the open-ended type.

Woodskin on the Rupununi River (Roth, W., 1924:plate 179)

Woodskins generally carried one to three people and were used for fishing and general transportation. They drew little water (about 3 inches/8cm), so were useful on shallow and rocky streams, and could be more easily portaged around rapids and falls than heavier logboats. Their low freeboard, however, was a disadvantage because they could afford to take on very little water, the purpleheart bark being so dense that the boat would sink if swamped. Propulsion was with single-bladed paddles, an example of which can be seen clearly in the first photo.

I have found no recent references to woodskin use, but hope to determine whether they are still in use during a planned visit. If you have “on the ground” knowledge, please contact me.

-------

Sources

Arnold, B. (2017) Bark-canoes of South America: from Amazonia to Tierra del Fuego (English text without illustrations; French original: Les canoës en écorce d’ Amérique du Sud: de l ’Amazonie à la Terre de Feu). Le Locle: Editions G d’Encre (Le tour du monde en 80 pirogues, fascicule 3).

Brindley, M. D. (1924) ‘THE CANOES of BRITISH GUIANA’, The Mariner’s Mirror. Routledge, 10(2), pp. 124–132. doi: 10.1080/00253359.1924.10655267.

Farabee, W. C. (1918) The Central Arawaks. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Anthropological Publications. Available at: https://www.cambridge.org/core/books/central-arawaks/84081CF333475CE23BA33C43187D17BC.

Roth, W. E. (1924) An introductory study of the arts, crafts, and customs of the Guiana Indians. Washington DC: US Government Printing Office. Available at: https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/pt?id=uc1.c006937560&view=2up&seq=4.

Worcester, G. R. G. (1956) ‘Notes on the canoes of British Guiana’, Mariner’s Mirror, 42(3), pp. 249–251.

Boat Iconography at the British Museum #2: Pre-Classic

This is the second in a series of posts on ancient boat iconography at the British Museum. The first post looked at ancient Egyptian boat models. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Dating from the second phase of the Naqada culture (3500–3200 BC) in what is now Egypt, this is one of the earliest undoubted images of a boat with a sail from anywhere in the world. The medium-aspect squaresail, hung from a mast stepped far toward the bow, appears to have a boom along the bottom edge. As the mast crosses the sail somewhat off-center, it could conceivably have been a lugsail, although there is no good evidence for the use of lugsails in ancient Egypt, and with the mast so far forward, the boat could only have sailed before the wind in any case, so it was likely used only while traveling upstream on the Nile. No rigging is shown, but this is surely a function of the illustration’s overall paucity of detail, not an indication that none was used. The prow rises vertically very high and the stern is also raised. There is a great deal of rocker and sheer. Just behind the raised stem and beneath the leading edge of the sail is what appears to be a tiny platform: perhaps this was a pilot’s station or a base for a votive image. Aft, vertical posts support a forward-sloping platform, roof, or awning. Rectangular blocks of “waves” all around the boat represent the sea. Here is the British Museum’s record and another photo.

The redware pottery jar stands 58.5cm tall. 

This big (75cm long) model, from a grave in Ur, in southern Mesopotamia, dates to the Akkadian period (2300-2150 BC). It’s made of bitumen mixed with earth and is very similar in form to plank-built boats called taradas used in the Iraqi swamps well into the 20^th century. Taradas and boats made of reeds were both coated with bitumen, which occurs naturally in the area. It’s unclear if the model represents a boat of reeds or planks, but to me it feels more like the former. Grave boats in Ur were originally loaded with containers thought to have held provisions for the afterlife, or possibly as bait to distract evil spirits. British Museum record and photos.

We’ve leapt forward well over a milennium, to 750 BC-600 BC. The vessel depicted on this Bronze Age Cypriot jar has its mast stepped amidships and would have been more capable than the earlier Naqada boat of sailing across or into the wind on the open Mediterranean. The furled sail, of low or medium aspect, has no boom along its bottom edge. Rigging is clearly shown but is hard to interpret. (Guess: the lower, upside-down V represents shrouds; the upper, rightside-up V represents braces.) Both bow and stern turn up abruptly and rise to great heights, with decorative flourishes at their upper ends. There is a large structure in the bow (right side), and a helmsman stands at the stern managing double steering oars or side rudders. Large amphorae, probably containing wine, oil, or fish sauce, constitute the cargo. Just out of the frame to the left side, a crewman defacates over the stern, making this probably the world’s earliest depiction of shipboard sanitary arrangements. The Nautical Archaeology Society uses this image (minus the biological function) as its logo. More about this item in this article from the International Journal of Nautical Archaeology. British Museum record and photos.

Three terracotta ship models from tombs on Cyprus. Top and middle: 600BC-500BC. Bottom: 750 BC-475 BC. With no suggestion of a rig, they appear to be rowing galleys, probably warships, judging by the rams on two of them. Although they’re similar, they all differ slightly in the forms of the ram or prow, the upper extensions of the stem and sternpost, and decoration. All three have oculi and are 16-17cm long. British Museum records and photos: top, middle, bottom.

The starboard sides of the Cypriot galley models.

This terracotta merchant ship from Cyprus (600-500 BC) has a mast step amidship in the bottom, and the vessel was surely rigged with a square sail. The ends of the posts have fishtail-like shapes. The broken parts of the hull aft (right) may have been the location of steering oars. Where the sides bend inward at the top probably represents a bulwark, not a tumblehome hull shape. Forward is a cross-beam that probably served as catheads for anchor handling. British Museum record and photos.

This more elaborate merchant ship model is also from Cyprus (750-500BC) and also has a mast step amidships. There are several cross-beams and an elaborate sterncastle and poop deck, with structures to secure steering oars or side-rudders. As this was a sailing merchant ships, the rows of holes on both sides do not represent oar ports, and they are too low and too numerous to be fastening points for shrouds. I believe they are scuppers that would have been located at deck level, at the bottom of the bulwarks. British Museum record and photos.

Not iconography, but an example of an important type of cargo carried by Cypriot ships. This is a 37 kg copper ingot, dated to about 1200 BC. It’s thought that the distinctive "ox hide" shape made them easier to carry. Copper was the primary metal required for the establishment of the Bronze Age. British Museum record and photo.

Boat Iconography at the British Museum #1: Egypt

When it comes to studying the earliest watercraft, direct archaeological evidence, in the form of artefactual boats and ships, is extremely rare and fragmentary. In contrast, the iconography of ancient boats -- in the form of models, relief carvings, images on pottery, etc. -- is relatively abundant, and often well-preserved. If you read enough nautical history or archaeology, you'll come across a number of oft-used images that provide some of our best clues about the design and construction of early watercraft. Although subject to differing interpretations, these mostly well-known examples of boat iconography are crucial to current understandings of such fundamentals as when sails were first used, how Egyptians built reed, and then wooden, boats, and what Greek and Roman galleys looked like. Interpretation of fragmentary shipwrecks can be greatly hampered by a lack of relevant iconography.

On a visit to London in January, I realized for the first time how so many of these "iconic examples of iconography" are held in the British Museum. It was like walking into a well-illustrated textbook, and a thrill to see these classic examples up close and in 3D. There are too many to include in a single post, so I'll begin with the Egyptian boat models, all of which are from funerary contexts. Later posts will examine examples from other areas and cultures. Photos were taken through display case glass, so image quality is poor, for which I apologize.

From tomb 56 at the necropolis of Asyut, the burial of Hetepnebi, a local official, 1st Intermediate Period, about 2090 BC. I'm unsure if this represents a papyrus raft or a plank-built boat. Two masts are present (possibly used as towing posts?). Aboard are the owner, a pilot, six oarsmen, who I believe are kneeling, and five soldiers, who stand. Shields and staves are stacked amidships. Paddles and a steering oar have been lost. (Click any image to enlarge.)

From the same tomb: crews of two papyrus rafts. The raft on the left is a replica of the original, which disintegrated. Unlike the oared craft above, these are propelled by forward-facing paddlers, who work from a crouching posture. A pilot originally stood at the bow, and a figure of the owner at the stern.

The museum's online catalog search isn't working and the display signage only indicates that this and the next model are from a tomb from "the end of the Old Kingdom to the mid Twelfth Dynasty", which is roughly 2181 BC to 2000 BC. This model appears to represent a wooden boat, propelled with 8 oarsman, with a pilot in the bow and a helmsman astern. The oarsmen wear a skirt-like garment that covers their legs, making it difficult to say if they crouch or kneel. The model once included a mast, sail, and rigging as well.

Apparently found with the previous model, this one is set up strictly for sail, although two of the crew were apparently using poles (lost) as well. Three other crew manage the rigging, and again there's a pilot forward and a helmsman aft. The owner sits with boxes of cargo beneath the decorated canopy. The rudder arrangement is interesting. The upper end of the stock rests on a post forward of and high above the helmsman; the lower end, just above the blade, rests on top of the transom. A tiller (lost) extended down from the stock between these two pivot points. The significance of the grid-like lines painted on the deck of this and all of the models below is unclear. Did they represent removable deck panels? Perhaps thwarts and a longitudinal strength member?

This funerary boat (12th Dynasty, about 1850, from Thebes) carries the deceased owner's mummy. attended by a mourner, a priest, and provisions for the afterlife. The boat represented was probably wooden, but the upturned ends are reminiscent of papyrus rafts, a design holdover from the older, more "traditional" technology. Twin quarter-rudders are supported at the upper end by an A-frame that is topped by a carved falcon head, and managed by a single helmsman who has two tillers to manage. 

This top view of the previous model shows a painted grid pattern on the deck, similar to the previous two models.

12th Dynasty, about 1985-1795 BC, provenance unknown. With the crew sitting on boxes and posed for rowing, and the boat is rigged for sail, the deceased's soul will be able to travel both upstream and down. 

The same model as in the previous photo.  The square-profile squaresail rig has a yard with multiple lifts and a boom with multiple halyards.The rudder has lifting tackle to raise it in shallow water or for beaching. 

Corfu's Reed Raft, the Papyrella

The papyrella built for the Exeter Maritime Museum, now held by the National Maritime Museum of Poland, photographed in Suffolk, England by Bob Holtzman (click any image to enlarge).

Rafts made of reeds are among the oldest types of watercraft, and remained in use in many areas through the end of the previous millennium “wherever there is a good supply of reeds” (McGrail, 2001:21, 104). Papyrus, among the most common reeds used for raft building, may have been among the earliest as well. Papyrus rafts are known from Egyptian tomb carvings, paintings, and funerary models as early as the Fifth Dynasty (2492-2345 BCE) (Hornell, 1970:47-48; McGrail, 2001:22), and these appear quite finely modeled and highly developed, so that much earlier use can be safely assumed (Hornell, 1970:48-49).

Papyrus reed raft under construction in an Egyptian 5th Dynasty tomb relief (McGrail 2001:21).

Modern examples of papyrus rafts are known from Lake Tsana (i.e., Tana) in Ethiopia; among the Buduma and Kuri people on Lake Chad; in Palestine; and elsewhere (Hornell, 1970:53-56). Among the last European reed rafts was the papyrella of Corfu, whose use apparently petered out only in the 1970s. Although the Corfiot name papyrella is clearly etymologically related to papyrus, the reeds from which they were built is disputed. They have been identified as giant fennel, Ferula Communs L. (Tzamtis, 1990:329), although a later observer states that they were Scirpus lacustris L. ssp lacustris, of the same Cyperacea family as Egyptian Cyperus papyrus (Tzalas, 1995:456).

The basic papyrus raft can be built with no tool other than a stone blade for cutting reeds, and with no specialized techniques other than rope-making (McGrail, 2001:21-22), and this goes a long way to explain the papyrus raft’s early appearance in history. The papyrella, however, is a unique hybrid design incorporating some wooden components and requiring a few additional tools and techniques.

Construction began with six to eight light cypress saplings about 3m long. These were tied together at their narrow ends – the end that would be the bow – and splayed to a width of 1.1-1.3m at the stern. Three broad planks were laid beneath this framework, one at the stern, one about a meter back from the bow end, and one halfway between. Papyrus reeds were gathered into bundles with their butt ends all aligned and tied with cordage, so that the bundles were roughly 20cm in diameter at the butt end, narrower at the other end. These bundles were laid over the frame, perhaps six or seven bundles across, in two layers. Three more planks were then placed on top of the bundles, directly above the lower planks. The two layers of planks were then lashed with heavy rope passing through two holes in both ends of each plank, sandwiching the reed bundles and holding them in place. More reeds were bundled and tied into a horseshoe shape on top of the raft to serve as a coaming or gunwale. Finally, the saplings at the bow were bent upward and back and tied in place to form a prow (Tzamtis, 1990:330).

Papyrus is delicate and easily crushed and abraded, and when damaged, it absorbs water readily and loses its buoyancy. To protect the reeds on the bottom of the bundles when the boat was grounded, “common reeds” of a more durable type than papyrus were sometimes placed between the cypress bottom poles. A second set of cypress poles, tied like the first set, was sometimes placed on top of the reed bundles and beneath the top set of planks (Tzamtis, 1990:330). This might have been done to stiffen the structure, although it is unclear if rafts without this feature were subject to excessive flexing. Since the poles run mostly parallel with the bundles, it does not appear to be useful for containing them. A third modification sometimes present was the substitution of short cypress poles for the transverse boards (Tzamtis, 1990:330).

Stern of the papyrella (photo: Bob Holtzman)

Descriptions of a few aspects of construction are ambiguous. Tzamtis states that the bottom cross-planks were placed beneath the cypress longitudinals (1990:330), which would hold the saplings in place sandwich-wise. In the example shown, however, the planks are on top of the longitudinals, so the saplings had to have been tied to the boards to remain in place. As one of the final steps, “two cypresses were placed on the stern, and bound there from the bottom to around the top, thus completing the caging in of the papyri bundles” (Tzamtis, 1990:330). This feature did not appear on the example I examined, and the disposition of these two poles on the stern is unclear. Also, the cypress base poles which extended beyond the reed bundles at the bow, were bent up and back and tied in place to bring the tips out of the water and create somewhat of a prow shape. Tzamtis (1990:330) indicates that this was done as the very last step in construction, but Tzalas (1995:444) states they were bent into this shape when green and held under pressure until the wood dried, after which they held the shape on their own. It is unclear if the square stern was the natural result of aligning the bottoms of the bundles, or if the aft ends of the bundles were all sheared even and square after being bound together. There is an account of papyrellas with a rounded stern (Tzamtis, 1990:330), which surely would have been cut to shape after the bundles were bound together.

The entire building process took two to three days. Finished rafts were 2.5-3m LOA, with their greatest beam of 1.1-1.3m at the stern and maximum thickness of 45-50cm, also at the stern (Tzamtis, 1990:330; Tzalas, 1995:443-445).

Papyrella were used for fishing in sheltered waters, “confined to lakes and bogs, rarely faring out to sea and far from the coast” (Tzamtis, 1990:330). Reports refer to their use for lobster fishing, but it would be surprising if other forms of fishing did not occur. There are reports that double-length papyrellas of 5-6m LOA were built by joining two single boats stern-to-stern, and that these larger boats would venture offshore for lobster fishing, but no such boats have been properly documented. Long poles were used to hold the two boats together, but it is unclear if the poles were forced through the bundles of both boats or lashed to their exterior surfaces or frameworks (Tzamtis, 1990:330-331).

Papyrella under way in Corfu by a standing paddler using a double-bladed paddle (Tzalas 1995:466)

The standard “single” papyrella was a one-man craft, propelled from a standing position with a double-bladed paddle 2.3-2.5m long, including the two 50cm blades (Tzamtis, 1990:330; Tzalas, 1995:449). With the paddler standing, the gunwales would have done nothing to protect him from waves, so their purpose must have been to protect his gear and his catch.

Fisherman standing a papyrella on end to dry (Tzalas 1995:465)

The more tightly the bundles are tied, the better a reed raft will resist waterlogging and decay (McGrail, 2001:22, 104). The bundles in the example examined were still tightly bound some 50 years after the raft was built. Another key to longevity was to dry the bundles after every use by pulling the raft out of the water and standing it on its stern end. Treated this way, the bundles might last two to three years, while the framework could be used over and over (Tzalas, 1995:443).

Regular use of the papyrella continued into the late 1970s or early 1980s, at which time a single user remained in Palaiokastritsa, in northwest Corfu (Tzalas, 1995:443). During the 1970s, three had been built for museums – one in Corfu, one in Piraeus, and one in Exeter, England (Tzalas, 1995:443), the original home of the papyrella I examined. The Exeter collection was subsequently transferred to the World of Boats collection in Eyemouth, England, and when that museum closed abruptly in 2017, the papyrella and a few other craft were purchased at auction by Valerie Fenwick, a renowned British maritime archaeologist who kept them secure in a barn in Suffolk until a proper caretaker organization could be found. This is where I photographed it and documented its basic features in concert with the fellow student who appears in the photos. The papyrella, along with the rest of the small collection, was recently transferred to the National Maritime Museum in Gdansk, Poland, where, one hopes, it will be stabilized and displayed (Fenwick and Pink, 2020).

For a 50-some-odd-year-old reed raft, it remains in quite good condition. The reeds are beginning to disintegrate, however, and lightweight monofilament fishnet has been fastened over them in an attempt to hold them together. It is unclear if the bundles at the bow were originally larger than in the photos or if they extended further forward. Some of the ropework is sloppy and haphazard, the result, I suspect, of attempted repairs by an individual unskilled in knots.

Harry Tzalas's double-ended papyrella, named Papyrella (Sampson, 2018:23)

Certainly the most famous individual papyrella was one named Papyrella and used in an experimental voyage from the Greek island of Melos to the mainland in 1988 (Tzalas, 1995). Seafaring by Mesolithic people has been indirectly but firmly established by the presence on the Peloponnesian mainland of obsidian from Melos, and Harry Tzalas (following Tzamtis’s lead) hypothesized that this was mostly likely accomplished by means of a reed raft. Tzalas had a double-length, double-ended papyrella built which he and five crew paddled from the mainland to Melos over the course of 16 days (Tzalas, 1995). Tzalas claimed that this voyage supported his hypothesis, but I and some others (Cherry and Leppard, 2015:745) find the experiment to be fraught with errors of theory, logic, and methodology and view its results as dubious.

The route of Papyrella from Melos to the Greek mainland (Cherry and Leppard, 2015:746)

Bibliography

Cherry, J. F. and Leppard, T. P. (2015) ‘Experimental archaeology and the earliest seagoing: the limitations of inference’, World Archaeology. Routledge, 47(5), pp. 740–755. doi: 10.1080/00438243.2015.1078739.

Fenwick, V. and Pink, J. (2020) ‘The Fate of the ISCA Collection: The World’s Largest Collection of Traditional and Vernacular Boats’, Nautical Archaeology Society. Available at: https://www.nauticalarchaeologysociety.org/the-fate-of-the-isca-collection (Accessed: 12 February 2020).

Hornell, J. (1970) Water transport: origins & early evolution. Newton Abbot: David & Charles.

McGrail, S. (2001) Boats of the World: from the Stone Age to Medieval times. Oxford: Oxford University Press.

Sampson, A. (2018) ‘The Mesolithic Hunter-Gatherers in the Southeastern Mediterranean and Their Contribution in the Neolithisation of the Aegean’, Archaeology and Culture, 1(1), pp. 11–36. doi: 10.22158/ac.v1n1p11.

Tzalas, H. E. (1995) ‘On the Obsidian Trail with a papyrus raft in the Cyclades’, in Tzalas, H. E. (ed.) Tropis III: 3rd International Symposium on Ship Construction in Antiquity. Athens: Hellenic Institute for the Preservation of Nautical Tradition, pp. 441–470.

Tzamtis, A. I. (1990) ‘Papyrella: remote descendant of a middle stone age craft?’, in Tzalas, H. E. (ed.) Tropis II: 2nd International Symposium on Ship Construction in Antiquity Proceedings (1987). Delphi: Hellenic Institute for the Preservation of Nautical Tradition, pp. 329–332.