My Boat
My Boat
The following two stories are fictional works, based on loose facts, by The Hawk Road.
I remember it like it was yesterday.
I had moved from Newellton to Clarks Harbour, and was just getting by building houses. As the need for a carpenter's hand became scarce, I tinkered around building dories and was amazed at how much I enjoyed it. I dove into the work, and soon found myself buying Charlie Kenney's boat-shop on the Clarks Harbour waterfront. Most of my boats were flat-bottomed and sail-driven, about twenty feet long with a pointed stern.
I had heard that a jeweler in Chester, Hawbolt I think his name was, had succeeded in sticking a gasoline motor in a boat, the first recorded case in Nova Scotia. It was said that after he cruised around his home harbour, he was hoisted on the waiting mens' shoulders at the wharf and carried the whole way home. He had made wooden patterns, cast the cylinder and crankcase, and machined the fittings... a local triumph, to say the least!
When I was approached in 1905 by a sharp-dressed fellow from Saint John, New Brunswick, and asked to build a power boat using his own blueprints, I happily accepted. About a year later, the vessel was completed, sporting a twin-cylinder "make or break" gasoline engine. The motor was crude and unreliable by current standards, but I was proud just the same.
After that job was completed, I started reflecting on the ways it could be improved on to sell to the local fisherman. Cape Sable Island relied on the fishing industry, and although the boat I'd just finished had sides that were too high for fishing use, I had a few ideas. My next design defined the hull shape that would stay relatively the same for many, many years. This "Cape Island Trawler", with its oak keel and hackmatack hull and deck, was stable and could brave the worst weather Mother Nature had to offer. It was a tough and long-lasting boat, and often would sell for more after thirty years of use then it cost to build. Myself, I thought it was a damn fine boat, and over the years I listened to the fishermen that would hang out at my shop, making small changes suggested by them to fine-tune the Cape Islander to perfection.
In 1926, I sold a Cape Islander to William Frost from Maine, the grandfather of famous marine designer Royal Lowell. This boat quickly gained respect and admiration, and was the model of what would become the "Downeast Lobster Boat".
Today, 80% of Nova Scotia's fishing fleet under sixty feet long are Cape Islanders, proof of their toughness and capability. Thousands of my boats have been built in the last decade alone, although they are now made of fiberglass instead of wood, and are pretty much the standard for lobster fishermen from Labrador to the West Indies.
If you see Bill, don't listen to him. He's been trying to take credit for my boat since the beginning. We used to get in arguments about who designed it first, but now we just look at the ground when we pass each other.
My name is Ephraim Atkinson, and I built the first Cape Island fishing boat.
I was the man to see if you needed a boat in the early days.
I designed and constructed speedy fishing sloops for many years. Forget what you've heard about Ephraim. He chanced upon a contract with a well-known boating authority, and because it was well documented, he got a lot of credit for inventing the Cape Island boat. Here's how the story really went.
I was the busiest boat-builder around at the turn of the century, and to be honest, I was having a hard job keeping up with the orders. I was living in Clarks Harbour when I first heard about the man who would change my life and a lot of other people's around here, too. His name was Samuel Bowker, one of those strange names you never forget. He sailed in at The Hawk, and word reached me that he was looking for me long before he arrived. I tried to look natural when he showed up at my shop, but I was as nervous as a nesting piping plover during a kindergarten school trip to the beach. He said he was from Nantick, Massachusettes. The year was 1902, if memory serves me right.
He told me he wanted to do something that no one in these parts had done. He commissioned me to build a 46-foot power pleasure yacht, and even though I had a lot of boats on order, I agreed. I worked harder than I ever had, given that a gasoline-powered boat hadn't been built in the whole county yet. A year later and after a lot of tinkering with the plans, we launched the "Fantus Parnell", which was similar in shape to the motor-boats then used by rich pleasure-boaters. They were usually former sailing yachters who couldn't wait to try out the new power that was quickly gaining popularity. I realized that a fishing boat with a slightly different design could change the way Cape Sable Islanders lived.
After that, I quit making the conventional sailing boats, even though all the other boat-builders still were. It was tough convincing the fishermen that gasoline power was the way to go. The first few motor-boats I made seemed to have problems every other day, and gasoline was a luxury very few could justify. Even when the fishermen had problems, though, they admitted that they could never go back to depending on the wind again. They could now carry larger and heavier loads, and there were very few days that the sea would force them to stay at home. The fishermen enjoyed my new hull designs, which got better each year; and with each boat I made, the beam and balance improved and made for drier decks and greater stability. My Cape Islander drew very little water, sitting up nicely on the surface so the fishermen could do their work more efficiently.
When those still depending on the wind to carry them to sea watched my boats leaving the harbour in nasty weather and carrying more traps than their boats could, everyone wanted one. The buyers who dealt with the motoring fishermen were very impressed with how fresh their catch was when they reached shore, and found the larger single-boat catches more convenient when compared to dealing with several sailing vessels for the same amount. The happiest of all, I like to think, were the fishermen's wives. Their men were home early enough to lend a hand with the household tasks or spend time with the children.
The Cape Island boat turned the lobster fishery into a very profitable industry. Nowadays, the fiberglass boats that first appeared in the 70's can last 50 years, and can be anywhere from 35 to 55 feet long. I hear people talking about who built the first one sometimes, and for every time I speak up, there's someone there to tell a different story about Ephraim and his so-called legacy. Believe what you want, but think about us on Dumping Day this year, and be proud of the inventive pioneers that once lived where you do now.
My name is William Kenney, and I built the first Cape Island fishing boat.