Messing About in Boats:
The Joys of Traditional Small Craft

Story by Denice Breaux

In Kenneth Grahame’s The Wind in the Willows, Water Rat declares to Mole that “… there is NOTHING—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.” Rat is not alone, and the strong lure of boats and water has compelled people to mess about in boats for centuries. In 1970 when the U.S. federal government planned to adopt a set of safety standards that would have proclaimed traditional crafts “unseaworthy,” the Traditional Small Craft Association was established in response.
Ultimately, revised regulations permitted traditional boats to continue, and boats like dories, wherries and peapods prevailed. Today the Association carries on the work of preserving the attendant traditions of watercraft whose original designs predate the gasoline engine, although contemporary modifications are completely acceptable.

Renowned East Coast boat builder John Gardner, considered to be largely responsible for the small craft revival, was a founding member of the Traditional Small Craft Association, and through his work and full life spread the word about the pleasures of hand-powered craft. The Traditional Small Craft Association, based in Mystic, Connecticut, now has twenty-four chapters nationwide with names like “Floating the Apple” (New York City) and The Lone Star chapter (Anahuac, Texas). Here in Mendocino, the Lost Coast chapter was formed four years ago when Dusty Dillion, a self-proclaimed river rat whose father and grandfather were fishermen before him, hooked up with some other folks that he had noticed regularly rowing out of Noyo Harbor. Dusty and his wife Linda, equally enamored of the water, had recently purchased the block of land where Sharon’s by the Sea sits, and next to the restaurant Dusty built the World’s End Rowing Club boathouse.

One of those regular rowers that Dusty befriended was Stan Halvorsen, who “cut his teeth on a gunnel,” says Dusty venerably. Stan, current president of the Lost Coast Traditional Small Craft Association who favors “an extremely seaworthy” 14 ft. Gordie Nash Whitehall, has been involved with boats for fifty-five years, the last twelve here on the coast. He met his wife, Kris, thirty-six years ago in a Sausalito boat shop, and boating has been a family affair ever since. In 1982, the couple sailed with their two young sons on a 40 ft. wooden ketch for six months before El Niño forced them home; both boys and now a grandson are carrying on this “good, wholesome family activity,” says Stan. Even though he has won competitions and has many times rowed the thirty-eight miles between Catalina and Marina del Rey, Stan considers himself “a simple rower. Rowing makes me feel good,” he muses. “It’s quiet and peaceful, dealing with Mother Nature without confrontation.”

The Traditional Small Craft Association’s bylaws define traditional small craft to mean “boats built from designs developed prior to the gasoline marine engine, for sail or manual propulsion. Modern historical variants or adaptation of traditional designs fall within this definition.” The material used to build a boat doesn’t matter, and “small craft” really knows no size restrictions. As long as it is human-powered and non-motorized, it qualifies. Small craft might include a 4 ft. round Irish Coracle made of hides or tub boats used by Japanese fishermen to scoot around their harbors to check their shrimp traps. Here in Noyo harbor, “we have a fiberglass interpretation of the English golliwog, so we’re looking for a group who would like to work with a boat designed in the year 1200,” Dusty Dillion tells me when he recently treated me to a rowing tour of the harbor. “We have also been approached by someone wanting to build a 45 ft. redwood dugout Hawaiian canoe. You have to regard each boat for what it is you want to do with the boat. So many of them are precious for what they are.”

In following John Gardner’s lead to inspire, educate, and encourage others, members of the Lost Coast TSCA are eager to share their knowledge and general joy of messing about in boats. The congenial group, with sixty-four member families, hosts many events that explore Mendocino’s waterways, and you don’t even have to own a boat to join. Recent rows have lead enthusiasts to Big River, Albion River, the Navarro River and the Petaluma River. The outings usually conclude with a casual potluck barbecue, all the more to emphasize the friendly, low-key atmosphere surrounding the small craft community. A very reasonable membership fee includes a quarterly newsletter in which recent events are recounted and future ones are announced, sometimes offering trips as far afield as the Tugboat Festival at the San Francisco Maritime National Historical Park. An early summer event brought members of several TSCA chapters to the Maritime Park’s tour of its Alameda warehouse which stores over eighty thousand square feet of nautical wonder from rotted hulks to cannons to a craft built by local resident Dean Stephens. Carrying on tradition in true spirit, Stephens built the felucca, Matilda, at Abalobadiah north of Fort Bragg from old photographs and information from old Italian
fishermen.

While it’s true that one needn’t even own a boat to join up, TSCA naturally has many members who are boat builders or, equally adventurous, boat restorers. Local resident Jim Swallow has published in The Ash Breeze, the Association’s national quarterly journal, instructions for “How to Build a Couple of Boats in 25 Easy Steps.” Jim, a semi-retired physician who has rowed around Norway, Ireland and Alaska, came to rowing serendipitously when he first built a rowboat which he intended to outfit with an electric motor. Anxious to try out the craft as soon as it was finished, he put the boat in the water before the motor even arrived and has been rowing happily ever since.

Several boats have been donated to the Lost Coast club for members to restore, including a 1939 Colombia River Gill Netter and the 19 ft. Calkins Bartender that currently graces the entrance to Sharon’s by the Sea. Although the design for this craft came from the traditional double-ender, it was modified with an engine and built for navigating the turbulent Colombia River bars nearing the Pacific Ocean. Later, the stout, powerful Bartenders were used for fishing, although Lost Coaster Bruce Abernathy comments that “fishing boats shouldn’t go too fast or they won’t catch fish.” That said, the Lost Coast gang would like to show people that there used to be one- and two-man fishing boats—you don’t need huge vessels to catch fish. And though they are working towards setting up a non-motorized watercraft center here, they also want to present some “transitional” boats used after people stopped fishing from row boats and began to do so in small motorized craft.

Independent of the Lost Coast Traditional Small Craft Association, the World’s End Rowing Club in Noyo Harbor has about twenty members. At present, the Club’s graceful boathouse, which was recently built by Dusty Dillion using materials reclaimed from several California lumber mills, can store craft up to 16 ft. long. Members must own their own boats, and the annual membership fee allows them to keep their craft in the boathouse and, using its hoist, launch and receive it any day from dawn till 5:00 p.m.

One World’s End member, Jim Blanton, was rather bookish as a young boy and developed a love of ships as well as rowboats after discovering pirate stories in the school library. In the early 1960s his parents bought him a Sears 11 ft. Styrofoam boat with a plastic lateen sail, which he used in the San Pedro Bay. After taking it for a sail in the Kern River, his father was so impressed with the little boat that he built a 24 ft. catamaran that the family took to Catalina Island every other weekend.

Years later in Fort Bragg, Jim acquired a fiberglass triple-oar that proved to be too big for one person to handle and sat dry docked for ten years in Jim’s yard in town. With eyes always peeled, Lost Coast TSCA members Dusty Dillion and Stan Halvorsen spotted the craft and immediately introduced themselves to Jim, offering him a dinghy in trade. Jim accepted the offer and also became a member of both the Lost Coast TSCA and the World’s End Rowing Club. “I rowed that dinghy around for a while,” says Jim, “but wanted something bigger and faster.”

Jim’s current boat, The Raccoon, named for the Straits between Sausalito and Angel Island, seems just right for now, and he rows at least three times a week, rain or shine. As a member of the Rowing Club, Jim keeps The Raccoon in the boathouse and uses its hoist to launch the boat, enormous time savers that make it possible for him to get on the water quickly after work as a kindergarten teacher. Jim sometimes rows out of the mouth of the Noyo River as far as the whistle buoy, about one and one-eighth nautical miles from the jetty, taking great care to mind the weather and power boats leaving mighty wakes. “I love being in the club. Rowing is good exercise,” reflects Jim, “and when I row upstream, I love watching the birds, especially the osprey nesting in the treetops.”

A nearby annex boathouse holds a treasure trove of all sorts of interesting craft, many of which reveal fascinating history. Some of these boats are for sale, while others are in for repairs or are being built. Here’s the rowing shell that Gordie Nash set the record in rowing to Catalina, and there’s a redwood dugout steam launch built by the son of a Caspar Mill supervisor. Most intriguing to me was a turn-of-the-century rowing shell that hung for fifty years in the sporting goods section of a large downtown San Francisco department store and that will eventually find a place in the World’s End boathouse.

Besides offering a fun time for its members and guests, the Lost Coast Traditional Small Craft Association dips its oars in many community projects. They would like to establish a remote livery which would allow them to rent out boats in different marinas; the proceeds from such rentals would help sponsor programs at the Bellingham, Washington Home Port Learning Center where kids at risk learn to build and repair boats. They are currently restoring a Seabright Skiff, one of the first boats used by the life-saving service, which upon completion will be returned to the Noyo Harbor Coast Guard Crew. Locally, the Lost Coasters are hoping to work with a few businesses to sponsor the public building of a Lumberyard Skiff, a craft that can be made in only forty hours with basic hand tools. Once it is built with materials donated by a local lumber yard, it will be displayed in the yard with plans and kits for sale.

On a bright rain-washed Saturday morning in autumn, my ten-year-old son, Rowin, and I joined the Lost Coast gang at Schooner Landing for a row in the Albion River. Because we left our canoe and half our family at home, the group made room for us, and we had the good fortune to ride with Stan Halvorsen, the chapter president, no less. What a patient and wittily understated teacher he was, instructing us novices on the fine art of oaring with its subtle angles, feathering of blades and the importance of the rowers’ synchronized movements.

A familiar river is rendered spectacular when you are on it, watching the lolling harbor seals watch you, navigating through eel grass, and passing unperturbed clans of ducks. Without capsizing, we three shifted positions during the row so that we could experience the different tasks and vantage points on Stan’s Gordie Nash Whitehall. My son and I reinforced our nautical lingo by declaring “port!” or “starboard!” as we passed a few tiny, wonderfully funky houses built on the water, compact and cozy miracles unencumbered by the laws of the land. Canada geese heralded overhead, and, perched at his station as lookout, Rowin spotted a red-tail hawk. In time we saw Jim Blanton’s beloved osprey. Even with our boat banter, the river offered its particular quiet punctuated by the neat dipping and occasional errant slapping of our oars.

Back on terra firma, we rowers convened around the fire pit and picnic tables laden in classic Mendocino potluck style. The Lost Coasters are a welcoming, convivial bunch for whom civility and common courtesy are still alive. Except perhaps for the particular details, the scene could have taken place at a potlatch meal shared by water-faring folk centuries ago. True, we all arrived by automobile wearing gear made of modern materials by modern means, but once we hit the water, we were living as others had lived, seeing what others had seen decades and scores before us, the venerable link still intact.

To become a link in the Traditional Small Craft Association’s Lost Coast Chapter, contact Dusty Dillion, (707) 459-1735) or Stan Halvorsen, (707) 944-8342. The quarterly newsletter will keep you abreast of all their activities (next row: December 15 at Lake Cleone), and the group will inspire you to experience the low impact and extremely pleasurable adventure of enjoying life from the middle of a quiet river. You’ll likely end up agreeing with Kenneth Grahame’s Water Rat that “…there is NOTHING—absolutely nothing—half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats.”