“Popo” Outrigger Canoes of the Central Caroline Islands

Flying proas of the Caroline Islands, from Adm. Paris. (click any image to enlarge)

In 1983 and 1984, Steve Thomas, who would later host the television series This Old House, lived intermittently on the tiny atoll of Satawal in the central Caroline Islands, an experience he documented in the book The Last Navigator: A Young Man, An Ancient Mariner, The Secrets of the Sea. While there, he lived with and studied under Mau Piailug, a master of the traditional Micronesian art and science of navigation, who had previously gained notoriety as the navigator on the early voyages of Hokule’a (which, as a Polynesian double canoe, was quite a different craft from the single-outrigger canoes of Micronesia to which he was accustomed).

A proa from Satawal (From the cover of The Last Navigator, by Steve Thomas)

The Last Navigator is a good book, an engaging, sensitively-written memoir of a young man attempting to learn about and fit into a very different society – in this case, one whose traditional, preindustrial culture was under extreme pressure from the forces of modernization and Westernization. While it contained what I suspect might be some valuable ethnographic observations and a good general description of traditional Micronesian methods of navigation (for a detailed explanation, see We, The Navigators: The Ancient Art of Landfinding in the Pacific, by David Lewis), it is scanty on information about the boats of Satawal and their construction.

Micronesia was home to a great number of outrigger canoe types – so great that James Hornell, in The Canoes of Polynesia, Fiji, and Micronesia, devoted many pages documenting separately those of the Carolines, the Marshalls, the Gilberts, the Marianas, and certain other of the region’s smaller groups and individual islands. Even within the central Carolines, there was too much variation between islands for it to be practical to document every differentiating detail, necessitating some generalization of a “western and central Caroline” type. Since I came to the subject of the central Carolines canoe by way of The Last Navigator, this post focuses, to the extent possible, on boats most like those that appear on Satawal, and relies on Hornell’s generalizations for a more encompassing view.

Flying proa or popo of the Caroline Islands. (From Hornell, after Paris) 

The ocean-voyaging canoes of Satawal are “flying proas” of a type which, according to Hornell, were called popos. Like almost all single-outrigger craft of the Pacific, they always sail with the outrigger to windward, using the outrigger float for stability in light or no air and as a counterbalance – supplemented by crew weight – against the force of higher winds. As such, popos are shunting craft, with identical ends that alternately serve as the bow and stern as the boat changes direction relative to the wind.

Notable differences in canoe design existed between the main island groups of Micronesia, as shown in this comparison of proas from the western and central Carolines (left) and the Marshall Islands (right). (Kubary)

Among the most distinctive characteristic of the popo are:

• a narrow, deep hull with identical ends but lateral asymmetry, in which the windward side is much less curved than the leeward. In fact, on some boats, the windward side of the hull is nearly a flat plane.
• hull construction of stitched planks on a dugout base
• a platform extending from the hull on the lee side, opposite the outrigger
• an oceanic lateen rig, consisting of a single triangular sprit sail hung from a mast stepped exactly amidships that pivots fore-and-aft with each shunt, allowing the sail’s direction and its center of effort to shift ends (not, however, without some complex evolutions on the part of the crew)

When Thomas lived on Satawal, Piailug was in the process of building a popo 33’ feet long and 8’ high from the keel to the “eyes” at the ends. This was the largest canoe built there in living memory, most others being around 26’ or 27’ long. According to Hornell, the canoes present in the central Carolines early in the twentieth century were smaller than those of the nineteenth, so lengths in the mid-thirty-foot range and, judging from Paris's drawings, even longer, may have been common in the past.

Hull Form and Construction

End, plan and section views of the Caroline proa (Hornell, after Paris)

On Yap, in the western Carolines, and a few other islands were large trees were available,

...all but the upper part of the sides and the two curved heads are hewn from a single log. In atolls where no large timber is available the dugout portion shrinks to a wedge-shaped piece channeled longitudinally on the upper side so as to give two everted edges upon which the garboard strakes are sewn.... Usually the shapes and sizes of the strake planks are irregular, suitable wood being too precious in atolls to permit either of long running lengths or of adzing opposite edges parallel. So the hull in these islands is a mass of patchwork, all, however, fitted together with remarkable accuracy. (Hornell)

Paris's plan and construction views on which Hornell's illustrations are based. (Source: Wikipedia. Thanks to Walter Stanish for uploading this version of the image and alerting me to it.)

According to Thomas, the hull timber was breadfruit or “a mahoganylike tree called rugger...” from which the keel was hewn and the planks were split. Thomas describes how a chainsaw was used to fell the tree for the keel of Piailug’s new boat. The chainsaw was a fairly unfamiliar tool on Satawal at the time, and few of the men knew how to use it. After the “blade-like legs” of the breadfruit were cut through and the tree was felled, limbed, and cut to its desired length, the log for the keel was 6’ in diameter and 30’ long. With the chainsaw, a couple of operators performed the process in one morning “what usually took six men more than a day” to perform with axes.

Thomas does not describe how planks were split or otherwise gotten out, but it is clear that adzes were used to shape all the timbers. The hull has two end pieces cut from solid timber, each of which attaches at an end of the keel and extends upward as a cutwater and stem “and ends throughout the western and central Carolines in a peculiar and most characteristic fork” (Hornell).

No plans or standard measuring devices are used in shaping the hull, the builders working instead by eye and by a series of proportions or ratios between various of the boat’s features. (For example: height of the mast equals length of the hull; length of the outrigger is one half the length of the hull. Thomas.) Regarding the pronounced asymmetry of the hull, Hornell explains that is counteracts the asymmetrical resistance imposed by the single outrigger, allowing the boat to travel straight with minimal steering input when the float is in the water.

Planks are added to the keel to build up the hull’s freeboard with, as Hornell says, “little or no need to fit strengthening frames and this is not the custom in the Carolines.... Adequate stiffness is obtained when necessary by the insertion of solid bulkheads or partitions beneath the transverse supports of the lee platform.” Stiffness is increased further with heavy thwarts and gunwales.

Thomas stated that Piailug, in building his new boat, lashed the planks together temporarily, but Thomas did not explain why. Perhaps it was not enough to ensure that each individual plank fitted properly against its neighbors but that, instead, the entire hull had to be test-assembled to ensure good fits. The wood of the cross-beams (i.e., thwarts) that Piailug wished to install was too tough to be worked with an adze, so the pieces were buried in moist sand for a period to soften them.

Planks are stitched to the keel and to each other with discontinuous stitches of coconut-fiber rope (i.e., coir), made, in Thomas’s account, by the island’s old men, hand-rolling the coconut fibers against their thighs. Planks were caulked with a compound of dehydrated breadfruit sap applied to strips of coconut husk. According to Thomas, this caulking gradually dries out and loses its efficacy, requiring the boats to be disassembled and rebuilt “every two years or so.”

During one of these rebuilding episodes on Satawal on a boat named Suntory (after a brand of Japanese whiskey), the builder in charge decided to lighten the boat to make it faster. After disassembly, all the planks were therefore adzed down to make them thinner. Thomas did not describe whether this process improved the boat’s performance or affected its strength or water-tightness.

Thomas agrees with Hornell in saying that the outer surface of the hull was finished very smooth, although the process of sanding or otherwise smoothing the planks it is not described by either. (Throughout much of the Pacific, shark skin was used as sandpaper for this purpose.) Hulls were traditionally painted in patterns of red, black, and white.

Outrigger and Lee Platform

According to Hornell, the two main outrigger booms, which are fairly straight, “pierce both washstrakes of the hull in large canoes and (extend) a few inches outboard on the lee side.” (In Hornell's version of Admiral Paris’s drawing, however, it is unclear if the booms are entirely surrounded by the washstrake or if, possibly, they are notched full-depth into its top surface). In the popo’s most characteristic form, the outrigger booms also serve as the main support for a large triangular platform which carries crew and cargo. Poles extend diagonally from the windward gunwale at points near both ends of the hull to the main booms near their outboard ends, and the resulting isosceles triangle is covered by planks or light poles.

A second rectangular platform extending from the hull’s leeward size further increases the boat’s cargo capacity. This platform is supported by another pair of heavy timbers that cross the hull. These timbers are angled sharply upward toward their outboard end, allowing the platform to remain dry with the boat at a significant angle of heel. Sometimes the surface of the platform is built directly on these sloping supports; on other cases, another, lighter framework is built over this main structure and decked over, creating a surface that is horizontal when the boat is on an even keel.

Enclosures of basketwork, which may be round, oval, or rectangular, often appear on one or both platforms. These are used primarily to protect cargo, but it appears they occasionally serve as shelters for passengers or off-duty crew.

Connection between the outrigger booms and the float. In the image on the left, the inner two crutches have been omitted for clarity. (Hornell)

The outrigger float, canoe-shaped in plan, hexagonal in section, and about half the length of the hull, is hewn from a solid baulk. It is connected to each boom by a pair of short crutches, the forks of which straddle the booms from below. The lower ends of these crutches are pointed and driven several inches into the upper facets of the float. Between each pair of crutch forks is a yoke which rests across the top surfaces of both booms and extends several inches beyond them. Holes are bored horizontally through the angled top surfaces of the float, and ropes are routed through these holes, over the ends of the yoke, and in a complex path around the crutches to hold the float securely to the booms, with the crutches in compression between them. Additional, lighter-weight braces are lashed to the undersides of the booms, further connecting them to each other and to the crutches, and from one pair of crutches to the other. The entire outrigger structure is thus highly complex and highly engineered for strength and flexibility.

Sail Rig and Steering

Caroline proas (Paris)

The defining characteristic of all true proas is the oceanic lateen or oceanic sprit sail hung from a pivoting mast stepped amidships. (I find the term “crab-claw” used often inappropriately, preferring to apply it only to sails whose leech is deeply concave and therefore somewhat reminiscent of the shape of a claw. This is not the case in the canoes of the central Carolines.) In combination with a double-ended hull, this permits the boat to be shunted, and sailed with either end forward. Sails were traditionally hand-woven from fibers stripped from the leaves of the pandanus or screw pine, but commercially manufactured cloth has apparently been in common use for some time.

Hornell takes pains to define the nomenclature of the sail’s spars, calling the one at the luff (the upper/forward edge) a yard, and the one at the foot a boom. He describes the rigging as follows:

A shroud runs from near the masthead to the yoke [i.e., the short, stout timber connecting the outrigger booms at their outer ends], to which it is secured after passing through a hole bored through its center. There is also a fore-and-aft running stay made fast respectively to the endmost thwart at each end of the hull.

(T)he sail is hoisted by a peak halyard attached far out on the yard and rove through a sheave hole in the masthead; the heel of the yard rests against a sail step set on a short thwart right in the bows, to which the tack is made fast.

There is no shroud or other line serving as such to leeward in this description, and in Thomas’s account of a voyage from Satawal to a nearby atoll, the rig was nearly lost once when the sail was backwinded, due to this lack of support on that side of the boat. No leeward shroud is shown in the diagram or cover photo of Thomas’s book, but in Paris’s diagram and one of his drawings (fifth and first images in this post), a shroud is visible leading from the masthead to the lee platform. Perhaps the practice varied on different islands even within the central Carolines.

Main features of a Satawal proa (from Thomas)

In the past, popos were generally steered by means of a quarter rudder with a tiller that extended laterally from its aft edge near the top. The rudder was not hung from the hull, but instead held by the helmsman’s foot against a wooden pin that projected from the hull. A rope from the top of the blade to the hull, visible in Paris's diagram (image #3), prevented loss of the rudder and perhaps provided some stability to it but apparently did little to hold it in its proper working position for, according to Hornell, “The steersman’s duty is the heaviest aboard and on a journey he has to be relieved frequently.” It rough seas when the rudder could not be controlled, it was lifted from the water, and several men with regular paddles would steer. In Thomas’s account, however, steering was always by means of a single steering paddle, and no rudder appears in his description or in the book’s diagram.

Canoe Houses

Caroline sailing canoes are built and kept in a canoe house. On Satawal, in Thomas’s account, each of the island’s eight clans owned a canoe and kept it in its own house. All the houses were on the same beach, near the main (only?) channel through the island’s surrounding reef, with the house belonging to the clan of the island’s chief directly opposite and closest to the channel. The canoe houses serve as social centers for the men, who typically gather there to talk and drink even when work is not under way on a canoe.

Experienced men of middle age do most of the work on the canoes, assisted and observed by younger ones -- or, in Thomas's account, those few younger ones who could be induced to take an interest any longer. Older men typically observe the work and offer suggestions but restrict their hands-on contribution to the making of rope.

Primary Sources:

Hornell, James, The Canoes of Polynesia, Fiji, and Micronesia, B.P. Bishop Museum, 1936, in Canoes of Oceania (with A.C. Haddon), B.P Bishop Museum, Honolulu, 1975

Kubary, J.S., Ethnographiphische Beiträge zur Kenntniss des Karolinen-Achipel, Leiden, 1889-95

Pâris, François-Edmond, Essai sur la construction navale des peuples extra-européens ou Collection des navires et pirogues construits par les habitants de l'Asie, de la Malaisie, du Grand Océan et de l'Amérique dessinés et mesurés pendant les voyages autour du monde de "l'Astrolabe", "la Favorite" et "l'Artémise")

Thomas, Steve, The Last Navigator: A Young Man, An Ancient Mariner, The Secrets of the Sea, International Marine, Camden, ME (no date). Originally published by Henry Holt, 1987

Additional sources, useful websites and pages:
http://www.samlow.com/screeningroom/navigators-filming.html
http://starrigging.blogspot.com/ and http://starrigging.blogspot.com/2017/06/canoe-sketch.html
http://waterworks-sysooke.blogspot.com/2011/10/chamorro-and-carolinian-sailing-canoes.html
http://archives.starbulletin.com/2008/04/25/features/story04.html
http://www.multihull.de/proa/history/p_history.htm
http://habele.blogspot.com/2017/03/historic-sail-showcases-micronesian.html
http://www.samlow.com/sail-nav/CEREMONY.htm
http://proafile.com/multihull-boats/article/the-proa-file-primer

A Very Early Maori Canoe

A sizable component of a large canoe found in New Zealand gives clues to the type of boats used to settle the islands, which probably occurred sometime between 1050 and 1250 CE. Found at Anewaka, on the northwest coast of South Island, the artifact has been dated to around 1400. Given the slowness with which technology changes in traditional societies, it seems probable that the boat it came from was similar to those used by the islands' first colonizers.

Canoe fragment recovered at Anewaka, New Zealand (click any image to enlarge)

More than 6m long and 85cm wide at its widest point, the part was a piece of what must have been a large composite canoe. For convenience, we'll call it a plank, though it was carved "in the round," following the shape of the tree trunk from which it came, and it is therefore somewhat closer to dugout technology than to plank-on-frame boatbuilding. (The proper term for this kind of component is ile.) The boat was, however, by no means a dugout. The part represents less than one quarter of one hull which may have been from a single-outrigger canoe but was more likely half of a double canoe.

Stitching holes exist around the entire perimeter of the plank, and pounded tree bark that was used to caulk these holes was recovered from some of them. Carved ribs and a longitudinal stringer on the inner surface of the plank show sophisticated carpentry and structural design. The stringer has notches and lashing holes along its whole length which were obviously used to locate and lash other parts of the boat's structure, but the exact nature of those other parts and the connections between them is unknown.

Partial hull reconstruction through duplication and mirror-imaging of the single recovered plank 

The authors of a paper on the find suggest that the part would have had a mirror-image to itself opposite, plus a similar pair of parts extending the hull at least a comparable distance from its butt end. To avoid having the mirror-image parts meet along the hull's "keel" line, where lashings would have been exposed to rapid wear when grounding the boat (an arrangement that, the authors state, is unknown ethnographically), it is necessary to accept another part between them -- call it a keel plank if you will. Although the two ends of the hull need not have been identical, it seems fair to assume that they were of similar length. There is nothing to preclude more sections between the two end pieces, for a much longer hull.

Carving of a sea turtle on the canoe plank

A sea turtle appears carved in relief on the outer surface of the plank. If one assumes that it is depicted swimming forward, then the plank must be from the after part of the hull. Sea turtles are not important in the iconography of the New Zealand Maori, so its carving here is thought to be a lingering transmission from pre-colonization Maori culture, which arrived in New Zealand by way of the Society Islands.

Proposed reconstruction of the Anewaka canoe as a double-hulled voyaging canoe with a single oceanic sprit rig

Relying on internal and ethnographic evidence and historical records, the authors created a reconstruction showing a double-hulled sailing canoe with dissimilar ends, a house aft of amidships, and a steering oar. The single sail is an inverted triangle held by two spars: known as an oceanic sprit rig, this is a tacking rig.

A Tahitian tipaerua, drawn by John Webber

As the authors note, the Tahitian tipaerua has a similar hull configuration, though the sailing rig depicted by John Webber on James Cook's third voyage to the Pacific was different. The authors suggest that the Anewaka canoe and the tipaerua had a common ancestor.

Thanks for Yoram Meroz for alerting us to this item.

With the exception of the final image, all images are from An early sophisticated East Polynesian voyaging canoe discovered on New Zealand's coast by Dilys A Johns, Geoffrey J. Irwin, and Yun K. Sung.

Hōkūleʻa in Bar Harbor, Maine

Hokule'a off Oahu. (Photo: Polynesian Voyaging Society)

Hōkūleʻa is a Hawaiian voyaging canoe in the midst of a multi-year voyage around the world. (We wrote about her previously here.) Launched in 1975, the double-hulled vessel is 62 feet LOA, with a beam of 20 feet and draft of 3 feet. Her hulls are cold molded, but she is considered to be a "performance-accurate" reproduction of the canoes that are thought to have been used by Polynesians to settle much of the Pacific, including Hawaii. Built originally to test theories about Polynesian seafaring techniques and technology, she has since become an ambassador of Polynesian culture and a campaigner for environmental awareness. There's plenty about the vessel, her mission, and her circumnavigation on the website of her owner, the Polynesian Voyaging Society.

We visited Hokule'a this weekend when she stopped in Bar Harbor, Maine. Because she was tied up to a pier with her rig stowed, we couldn't get a good view of what she really looks like, but we did go on board and took photos of some design and construction details. We also talked with Kaleo Wong, navigator on the most recent leg of the boat's voyage, about the mechanics of sailing a double crab-claw rig. (This is literally the first video we have ever done, so please be kind.) 

The blade of the main steering sweep raised from the water.

Lashings between one of the main cross-beams and one of the hulls. The boat is entirely lashed together. There are no mechanical fasteners.

Hokule'a carries two idols on the vertical projections at the stern. On the port side (the female side of the boat) is a female figure. 

On the starboard or male side of the boat is a male figure. Where the female figure has prominent eyes and can see, the male is blind. But he holds a disc that represents the wisdom of the ancestors. Between the two of them, they have the perception and knowledge to guide Hokule'a safely.

Kaleo Wong sitting atop the starboard berth enclosure. There are five or six berths on top of each hull, all in a line, under a narrow sloped tarpaulin "roof," with tarpaulin covers over the entry side as well. Kaleo's feet rest on the starboard steering sweep, which is not steerable: it can only be lowered or raised to change the boat's center of resistance.

The main (center) steering sweep, looking aft.

Another look at the main steering sweep, showing the lashings that hold it in place and serve as its pivot.

Two berths on the port side. There's just room to lie down, or sit up and place your feet over the edge. Accommodations do not look comfortable, and they're probably wet in bad weather. (This side was orderly. The starboard berths were a shambles of unstowed gear. Just sayin'.)

NOTE: We're obliged to Sym (5) and Ars Sonor for free use of the nice ambient music we used for the intro and outro of the video.

Belizean Dugouts #5: Propulsion and Use

In the previous installment in this series on Belizean dugout canoes, we looked at what appeared to be the most common form of propulsion -- the paddle. Here we'll look at other methods.

Belizean sailing dugout canoe. The double-ended hull shows a sharp transition between the sternpost and the bottom, almost forming a skeg. The unshipped rudder sits in the stern sheets; its steering yoke is visible. (Click any image to enlarge.)

Although we saw a couple canoes equipped for sail, we saw none that were rigged and ready to go, so the images provide unfortunately spotty documentation. 

In discussions with canoe builders Leo and Francis Lewis, we learned that the typical rig uses a triangular jib and triangular (i.e., Marconi) main. On examining photos of canoes with mast steps, we see no evidence of a forestay on any of them, so we're not certain that a jib is actually in use. However, almost all of the canoes we saw had a small foredeck with a hole bored in it for a painter, which was sometimes present, sometimes not. There is a possibility that the painter might serve as a forestay when needed. If the jib is set flying, then its tack might conceivably to tied to the painter, but this seems even less likely.

The same boat shown above, displaying its stowed sailing rig. There are four poles, one of which must be the mast and one the boom. A third might conceivably be a kind of removable bowsprit to which the jib's tack is made fast. The fourth could be for poling, for ramming into the bottom to anchor the boat while fishing in shallows, or it might be a gaff or a sprit. The sail is nylon sailcloth, probably cut down and repurposed from the discarded sail of a cruising sailboat. Note also the auxiliary paddle stowed forward.

The same boat, with a closer look at the spars, sail and paddle (the latter of which appears to be a cross between the two paddle types shown in the previous post). There are no chainplates or other provision for securing the lower ends of shrouds: the "mast partners" formed by the forward thwart (see below) evidently serve as the mast's only lateral support.

The stern of the same boat, showing one horn of the rudder yoke (upper left), which is steered with lines leading forward. The pintles are simply bent straps of light galvanized steel nailed into the sternpost and hood ends of the planks. They do not look very durable, and probably allow the pintles to move around quite a bit.

A different canoe from the one above, showing the mast step and forward thwart with a hole for the mast.

Many of the canoes we saw had a mast steps and a mast hole in the forward thwart but no pintles or other evidence of sailing gear. If they are sailed, they are probably steered with a paddle. Another possibility is that some canoes are equipped with mast step but are never further equipped for sailing and never so used.

None of the sailing dugouts we saw had any kind of lateral plane: no keel or false keel, no centerboard well or evidence of leeboards. Leo Lewis told us that these were not necessary for sailing even on a beam reach, and that the boats were sailed for fishing alongshore or out to the cays and reefs. With their generally rounded bottoms, leeway must be significant.

Several of the dugouts we saw in Hopkins had transom sterns to hold small outboard engines. Tohatsu was the brand of choice.

The fisherman's gear includes (from stern working forward): a bleach-bottle bailer; a crude, home-made stock anchor; a long, slender pole; nets; and floats. In the bow is an unidentified device that appears to have several long tines made of rebar.  

In the town of Independence, we saw this sloop-rigged smack loaded with five dugout canoes on deck. The larger boat will carry the smaller ones out to fishing grounds, where they will be dropped over the side to fish. 

Another view of the smack's load of dugout canoes.

Still another view, giving a more complete view of the smack's rig. It appears to have a short gaff, which has sagged below the very long boom. A third, dark-colored spar of unknown use (a whisker pole? a prop for the gaff's end?) is also visible just above the boom.

* * *

This concludes the series on Belizean dugout canoes. Previous posts in the series are:

The Last Dugout Canoe Builder in Hopkins, Belize

Belizean Dugouts #2: Designs

Belizean Dugouts #3: Construction Details

Belizean Dugouts #4: Paddles and Paddling

Belizean Dugouts #4: Paddles and Paddling

Just as Belizean dugout canoes exhibit great variety in their design and construction, so too do they vary in their means of propulsion. In our brief visit to Hopkins and Monkey River Town (in the country's Stann Creek and Toledo districts, respectively) in December, we saw dugout canoes propelled by paddle and outboard engine, equipped for sailing, and shipped aboard a smack for transport to distant fishing grounds. Paddle was the most common method of propulsion for the boats we saw on the beaches, and it's the one we'll examine in this post. 

We only saw canoe actually being paddled, on the Monkey River. We did not take a full series of consecutive photos to document the paddling method, but we've reconstructed the sequence here as best we could from nonsequential shots of one paddler over the course of a couple minutes.

We'll begin with the paddler switching from the right to the left side. Both hands are near the midpoint of the shaft.
The boat was rather decrepit. The added strakes above the dugout base were no longer fastened together at the ends but instead, were separated and splayed apart. (Click any image to enlarge.)  

The catch of the stroke.

Near the completion of the power stroke.

At the end of the power stroke, the upper arm is nearly straight. 

The paddler uses a different method shifting from left to right than he used from right to left. Here he has changed hands so that the left hand now holds the end grip while the right swings the blade in a wide curve overhead.
The beautifully shaped dihedral paddle blade is long and narrow, with a rounded end and painted a contrasting color from the shaft. There is no shoulder on the blade's upper end -- it transitions seamlessly into the rather short shaft.

And the stroke is repeated on the right side.

We did not notice if the paddler consistently used these two different methods when switching sides. The difference in methods might have been purely casual, and not evidence of a conscious technique.

The outboard launch in which we took a tour on the Monkey River was equipped with a canoe paddle for backup propulsion. It was not as nicely formed (nor in as good condition) as the one we saw in use above, but it was not without a couple of nice features.

Unlike the dihedral shape of the other paddle's blade, this one is flat on both sides. It has rather awkward-looking square shoulders, nothing like the seamless shaft-to-blade transition evident in the other one.

The shaft, however, does have a nice profile shape at its lower end, where it narrows slightly before meeting the blade. It also tapers gradually toward the upper end, where it's topped with a simple triangular grip. 

The shaft has a lozenge-shaped cross-section over most of its length, but a little below the grip is has a nice transition to a rectangular cross-section, which thins steadily toward the end of the grip. 

Our final post in this series on Belizean dugout canoes will look at some of their uses, as well as means of propulsion other than paddle.