Blissfully diverted

I've been given a Micro! Damn, I meant to build up to that. The truth is the
Micro was given to me at least three weeks ago. But until I actually got it
home I didn't want to say anything that might jinx things. Who knows, a
stray Scud missle could have wiped it out or something.

About a month ago I set out to build a kayak for my wife. Gerry Gladwin is
a brilliant boat builder in this area who has a business called Whynot
Boats. His specialty is the Volkskayak or VK, which is a beautiful stitch
and glue kayak that can be built in 40 hours. Gerry runs a continuous
workshop/course in which he guides his clients through building their own
VK. It's a wonderful learning, cultural, and social experience. Gerry's
workshop and home are tucked away in the woods on the South Mountain above
the Gaspereau Valley in Nova Scotia.

I bought Gerry's plans for the VK as a Christmas gift for my wife ,
intending to build the kayak at home as soon as the temperature reached
epoxy curing levels. But the more I studied the plans and communicated with
Gerry, the more convinced I was of the value of "studying" under the
guidance of a true master builder. I had already built three boats and could
have managed the VK on my on, but for $775 (Cdn) plus $75 for the plans, I
would learn at least as much from Gerry as I would learn by building another
3 to 5 boats on my own. I say social experience because there were times
when as many as six of us were working on kayaks in Gerry's shop at the same
time.

Gerry started building boats many years ago when he and his wife were
working as teachers in the Canadian Artic. His first project was a Gypsy. He
built at least two more Gypsies after that. He has also build a list of
Bolger boats including Diablo, Elegant Punt, a Birdwatcher, and...a Micro.
The VK has evolved over the years. They are probably the single most common
kayak one sees in the waters and on roof racks in Nova Scotia.

The Mircro was the first thing to catch my attention when I drove up to
Gerry's shop. It is so unmistakeably Bolgeresque that no Bolgeristra could
possibly miss it. She was nearly buried in snow when I first saw her. Gerry
said she was the victim of a broken marriage. He had repossessed the boat in
the process and she had been sitting on her trailer near his shop for the
last two years.

Once I started my VK I didn't pay much attention to the Micro. I would have
needed snow shoes for a closer look. Near the completion of my kayak spring
arrived in earnest and I took a break to slog my way through the melting
snow to have a closer look. She was a sad sight. Several inches of water in
the hold and cuddy with many layers of wet, rotting leaves. Rub rails,
gunnels, hatch sliders, and maybe even transom will need to be replaced. But
the hull and decks are rock solid. Masts and sails have been stored inside,
so they are in fine shape.

I eventually worked up the courage to ask Gerry what her fate was. He said
that he would probably have a big bonfire later in the spring. Watching her
sit there and deteriate while he was too busy to work on her was steadily
causing him more and more grief. When I asked if I could rescue her he was
delighted. He gave me the boat, sails and rigging, trailer, and full set of
plans. A winter's worth of work will see her sea worthy by next spring.

In the early hours of this Canadian holiday (Queen Victoria Day) my wife
Lois and I drove our two vehicles from the North Mountain across two valleys
to Gerry's place on the South Mountain. We pumped up the flat tires on the
trailer and strapped the Micro down. The trailer hasn't been road legal in
at least 5 years and is looking pretty flaky around the edges. Miraculously
the lights worked (mostly). Lois drove the Saturn as rear guard while I
towed the Micro with the old F-150 very slowly over the winding back roads.
We made it without a... well, I guess we made WITH a hitch, but we made it.
The rusty remains of the right fender were riding on the wheel by the time I
pulled into our driveway.

The Micro is now sitting prettily next to my old workshop in the space where
I will build the new workshop. I call my June Bug Bee-Held as a play on
words to state that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Micro is an even
stronger testimony to that truth. She looks more beautiful every time I look
at her...and I haven't even down anything more than bail her out and shovel
out the leaves. I sat in her cockpit sipping a Mosehead and squinting my
eyes to imagine riding the waves toward Cape Chinecto, across the Bay of
Fundy. I WILL eventually get around to building the Jochems, but this is a
diversion way to good to pass up. I'll keep you posted.

jeb, Micro projecting ACROSS the Bay...from the shores of Fundy