ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Wednesday, October 23, 1996 TAG: 9610230039
SECTION: CURRENT PAGE: NRV-1 EDITION: NEW RIVER VALLEY
DATELINE: NEWPORT
SOURCE: LISA APPLEGATE STAFF WRITER
MEMO: Ran in Neighbors on October 31.
If you ever see a man with a wooden canoe, don't ask him what's so special about it.
"Oh, bad way to start an interview," scolded Joe Wiseman.
There he sat, on the grassy banks of the New River, tucked behind a fluttering tent flap, drinking hot coffee and admiring works of art he characterized as "almost erotic" to use.
Wiseman and a dozen other men from across the state met in the bitter cold Saturday for the quarterly gathering of the Wooden Canoe Heritage Association, Old Dominion chapter.
George Simmons, a biology professor at Virginia Tech, played host at this meeting, borrowing riverside property from a friend. He had planned to take the group for a glide across Mountain Lake, but even the few johnboats that dared venture out rocked in the wind like dinghies in a hurricane.
Perhaps a spin down the New River? Not a chance under these conditions. Instead, the men (a few wives came along, but stayed in the warm heat of their vans or tents) let their prides and joys sit in the grass, basking in occasional sunlight and a great deal of praise.
There's one canoe with the dark knicks of at least 60 years of use; another lying nearby was finished last year and still shined from the varnish. Another was constructed with long strips of rich red cedar that were stretched across the bottom like the ribs of a whale. One displayed a seat at each end made of hand-woven cane completed by one man, with the help of one book.
Each one has the required 3,000 clinch nails, tapped into the same pattern that has been used for a century.
These aren't simply canoes, they emphasize, they're a part of history.
"It's like you're in a museum," Wiseman said. "It's the natural buoyancy of wood that makes the difference. [Plastic or aluminum canoes] may look the same, but they can't paddle the same."
At the turn of the century, during the wooden canoe heyday, the boats were used for everything from hunting to wooing lady loves. But all that faded with the onset of aluminum - and then eventually plastic - canoes.
Those more durable, sometimes lighter versions are nothing more than landfill contributions, Wiseman said.
Made almost entirely of wood and canvas, these canoes are designed to be rebuilt and last for decades. Still, most in the group said they were relieved not to take their canoes out on the New, preferring the deep, rock-free lakes instead. One knock can mean a major rib repair job.
Besides the sentimental attachment, these babies aren't cheap. Old Town is the only large manufacturer of wooden canoes; it takes a year in the making and about $3,000.
To make one yourself, Tom Tompkins estimated it takes about $500 - "and a lot of time."
Tompkins renovates and rebuilds wooden canoes when he's not teaching high school in Virginia Beach. He said it takes about 90 days to finish a canoe. For most, though, it's a take-over-the-garage-and-get-to-it-when-you-can kind of hobby.
The process hasn't changed much in all these years. Most of the canoe styles are still built from the inside-out, using a mold.
First, the ribs - usually made out of something pliable, like ash - are steamed and bent. Then, the floor of the canoe, often made out of cedar, covers the ribs. Canvas is stretched across that, then canvas filler and paint - often five or seven coats of it - finish the form.
A few elements of modern life have seeped into this past time though, like Michael Grace, who met the group for the first time after finding them on the Internet a year ago.
A professor of neurophysiology at the University of Virginia, Grace wears his hair in a ponytail and his uncle's Army jacket. He said ever since he was a Boy Scout, he's loved to canoe. He's always dreamed of owning a wooden one, and finally finished his while still in graduate school.
Steve Olsen, who just retired from being the assistant director for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, said his canoe was passed down to him. He let his kids "bang it up" for 30 years and finally decided to restore it.
"It takes an appreciation for things that people put a lot into - like the return to the muzzleloader to hunt with, or the wooden fly [fishing] rod to fish," he said. "It's a return to a lack of technology an appreciation for wood, and for nature."
LENGTH: Medium: 86 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: LISA APPLEGATE/Staff. Members of the Wooden Canoeby CNBHeritage Association admire some works of art despite bitter October
winds. About a dozen members met on the New River last weekend, but
couldn't take the canoes out due to the rough conditions. color.