Human beings are crafted by water, and in return, we craft upon
it. In the vessels used to discover Polynesia more than 5,000 years ago or in
the plethora of styles of canoes roaming the northern lakes of Canada, in all
of its forms, the canoe, is a metaphor for our complicated being. Yet it is
also a practical use for carrying out our daily lives for whatever purpose. It
is truly our vessel. Beginning August 1st 2012, I will undertake a year-long
journey as a Watson Fellow on every continent (besides Antarctica) to build and
study traditional canoes with local experts.. Respectfully, this year is
dedicated to the art (the artists!) and ecology of the canoe.
The global
journey begins on lake Titicaca on the border of Peru and Bolivia where at
12500 feet beautiful reed canoes are made throughout the lake. The native
peoples of Titicaca live on floating islands of the same reed harvested in the
lake ecosystem a. From there, I build in Zanzibar with the dugout builders of
the island, traveling into mainland Tanzania and Uganda as well. After a brief
stay in the United Arab Emirates with a palm frond boat builder, I work with
Maori war canoe builders on the North Island of New Zealand. Canada calls next
in the spring with the intricate birch bark canoes of the north woods. The year
ends with a summer building traditional Kayaks in Norway and a stay on the
Mekong in northern Laos.
I began the construction
of my first canoe in the spring of 2011 – a sixteen-foot pine and walnut strip.
When I told my advisor Marcia Bjornerud about the endeavor in early winter, in
such amazing synchronicity, she paired me and my four-person crew with her
father, who has since become one of my greatest mentors. Jim Bjornerud, an avid
canoe builder with decades of experience from the Wisconsin and Minnesota
Northwoods, worked with us every week, checking our progress, teaching us vital
skills, and providing us with subtle wisdom on the art of the canoe. He was
truly our wise elder. Working with Jim I realized the immense possibility of
knowledge and the deep importance of tradition and doing things right.
I became
completely consumed by the idea of hand-crafting a canoe. Through snow,
near-tornadoes, high water, four different workspaces along Wisconsin’s Fox
River, and endlessly late, sleepless, nights, filled with nothing but saw-dust
and an idea, we completed our boat in time for half my of team to graduate. The
local hardwood dealer knew us by name. Everything we owned was covered with
tiny wood scrapings and resin and everyone who knew us could tell that she (the
canoe) was on our minds. It was then that it became clear to me that by putting
an idea to work, we had each undergone personal transformations.
When
she finally rode the water for the first time, I remember lying on my back
looking at the setting sky from her seat-less, native style, belly. I pulled in
the bulky paddle I had made and let the water take us; the border between
river, canoe, and person faded with the setting sun. Riding in canoes my entire
life, but now finally building them, I had grown an insatiable desire to do
more.
That
experience, one many of us share, drives me. I know nearly nothing. Yet there
is an infinite amount to learn and create in this world. When I leave the
United States for a year, the opportunity to build and learn from cultures in
each of these places is one I cannot even yet fathom. I am grateful to have you
along as the river twists and turns!
Furthermore,
I am humbly grateful to the people involved both in my personal journey and
involved in the making of these traditional crafts. It is astounding how many
people literally come out of the woodwork to share their knowledge and offer a
helping hand. So many, even in the planning process! There are true elders and
teachers which shine in the canoe building communities. Cheers to those people
and their respect for the crafts, as well as the respect for the relationship
between nature and culture.
Ultimately and simply, this journey is
about following passion. Like a bird’s
nest or a beaver’s dam, the canoe is a part of the ecosystem, crafted by the
human organism. They are the coexistence of creativity and nature. Rather than the bane of the world, we are its
creativity, sense of exploration and passion. This is true, only if we are
wise, that we will be able to build a good and promising future. This is what I
see when I am in the presence of these amazing crafts, with such knowledgeable
builders in these unique environments. That is what I am journeying to
understand.
Thanks for the invite, Will--beautiful canoes!
ReplyDeleteRight on. Love the words--all the best on your journey Will. Forest
ReplyDeleteGreat to hear about your project Will. Our family stayed with Viktor and Kristina on Uros Khantati and loved the experience. So your note about their site on FB sent me to your site. We are from New Zealand, where I've and I studied in Vancouver, UBC, all the while compelled by the power of rivers, stories and memories (my 1999 PhD 'Writing the Memory of Rivers' was one outcome.)
ReplyDeleteSo, I have just 'liked' the Uros FB page if you need to contact me anytime. We are in Australia this year (R de Heers DVD '10 canoes' may be of interest); next year back in Wellington, NZ, so let us know if you need a bed for a night there passing through. I studied Te Reo Maori in the far north of NZ so have a fondness for that area too.
Your wonderful canoe building experience and then your first journey reminded me of something Loren Eiseley wrote:
….
Loren Eiseley touches on mystery and transcendence in his essay “The Flow of The River.” He reminds us that -- “common water” can hold our myths and, more importantly, enable the world’s functioning: “[i]ts substance reaches everywhere; it touches the past and prepares for the future; it moves under the poles and wanders thinly in the heights of air” (16). His journey begins with some trepidation; a non-swimmer, alone in the plateau, he realises “[a] man in trouble would cry out in vain” (18). But he lies back, “in the floating position that left my face to the sky, and shoved off” (19):
The sky wheeled over me.
As for men, those myriad little detached ponds with their own swimming corpuscular life, what were they but a way that water has of going about beyond the reach of rivers? I too was a microcosm of pouring rivulets and floating driftwood gnawed by the mysterious animalcules of my own creation. I was three-fourths water, rising and subsiding according to the hollow knocking in my veins: a minute pulse like the eternal pulse that lifts the Himalayas and which, in the following systole, will carry them away. (Loren Eiseley. 'The River' in _The Immense Journey_ pp19-20)
flow well Will!
Charles Dawson