Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: MONDAY, April 11, 1994 TAG: 9404110153
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: B-6 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BY BILL COCHRAN OUTDOOR EDITOR
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Inside a 40-by-70-foot steel building, Holeton and a helper build about four canoes a day, which Holeton figures ranks him in the nation's top 12 manufactures of fiberglass canoes.
``It is an inexpensive type of canoe that goes into the market at an introductory level,'' said Holeton. ``It is for people who don't want to lay out $600 to $1,000 for a canoe. You can get into these for $250 to $300.''
Even though the New River is nearby, fiberglass canoes aren't designed to tackle streams were rocks lurk beneath white water. Fiberglass canoes are tough, but they aren't slippery like ABS, nor will they bend under impact then bounce back into shape.
But their lightweight and competitive price make them ideal for flat water.
A native of northern Illinois, Holeton moved to Titusville, Fla., in 1963 and started building canoes under the Indian River brand three years later.
The move to Florida was stimulated by the weather and economics. He and his wife had been in the paddle boats rental business.
``So I decided to take them down to Florida in the wintertime to see if I could get some money out of them.''
To the paddle boats he added rental canoes, kayaks and sailboats.
``That business generated money basically when the kids are out of school, so when fall comes you have to find a substitute kind of income.''
Holeton heard about a used canoe mold, bought it for $100, and began making a canoe in a citrus fruit packing house. A buddy came by one day and suggested that the canoe be named Indian River, after the the river flowing near the packing house.
Holeton like the idea. ``To me, the words Indian and river just fit a canoe,'' he said.
By the late '70s, Holeton was begining to become disillusioned with Florida. His taxes rose 800 percent in 10 years. Crime and traffic were becoming troublesome. He had five teenage children to think about.
So during summer vacations he and family members began cruising the country in an RV look for a new place to call home. The choice was narrowed to the Blue Ridge foothills in Georgia; Ducktown, Tenn.; and Independence, Va.
``I wanted to get into the mountains where it is cool, and I wanted to be 80 miles from any big city.'' A large house also was required, and some acreage for the variety of animals that Holeton dotes over. Independence, in Grayson County, was the choice. The locals soon began calling him ``Boatman.''
Before moving north in 1982, Holeton sold most of his canoe in Florida, but now he is in reach of the Northeast market, where canoe sales are brisk. He manufacturers a dozen models, ranging 12 to 18 feet. They are marketed through a network of dealers that include Mary's Antiques in Independence and Midway Motors east of Galax.
Holeton is colorblind, but that doesn't hamper him from turning out what he believes is a greater variety of colors than any other canoe-maker. There is no limit to the colors, he said.
``If someone wants lilac, I can produce it. I personally believe that 10 percent of my sales are due to the color choice.''
With as many as 33 canoes stacked onto his pickup truck and trailer, Holeton shoos away the roosting chickens and strikes out across the country making deliveries.
``Once in Roanoke this fellow saw all the canoes on my rig and he says, `Who will buy all of these canoes? There are enough canoes to take care of the whole world.'"
I said, `Indians. Have you see any Indians around here?'''
At age 57, Holeton said the canoe business had treated him well, and he harbors no plans to retire or to deviate from what he calls the KISS system (Keep It Simple, Stupid).
by CNB