Creative Research

Ossuary Project

2011-12-25T20:43:00.026-06:00

A netting needle is used in fishing communities to mend fishing nets; yet also to make new ones. I use this process to explore the potential to heal a relationship or to create something new. Instead of a netting card, which helps to support the “backbone” thread in both an old net and the formation of a new one, attached is a small, corked glass bottle with half a love poem inside. The work was made for the project Ossuary organized by artist Laurie Beth Clark. http://ossuaries.wordpress.com/

Ossuary

"For this project, hundreds of artists will create a single bone, a cluster of bones, or an art work that is inspired by, uses, or plays with the idea of bones. The works may be in any medium, in two, three, or four dimensions. The contributions may be political statements and personal elegies, memorials to individuals or statements about mortality. They may represent connections to our ancestors and/or to our descendants. Some will be serious and some will use bones in a completely playful manner. Ossuary was inspired by the repositories of bones that have accrued in countries like Cambodia and Rwanda where mass violence has taken place. But Ossuary is not a project about those traumas. Rather, I believe that artists counter images of pain with hopeful or poignant rejoinders. Envisioning hope for the world is one of the things that art can do."

On Fishing

2011-12-18T22:13:00.001-06:00

I am compelled to tell a story. It is a romantic story, a story that is marked by the gradual changes that lead to some kind of truth, like the process of breathing. This part of the story is filled with muscle and teeth. It contains an ache. It is a love story whose history dates back 40,000 years. That history isn’t just about survival; it feeds families and communities. It is a hook and line story of a hunger that pulses and throbs and thrashes to life in the course of a journey as continuous as a body of water, the sea. It is a story made up of many stories, of how living turns to dying, and how in that dying there is honest living.

Charleston, OR

2011-12-15T10:24:00.000-06:00

Slow Progress

2011-11-01T21:04:00.000-05:00

I am still sanding but at least I am working my way through finer grits. There are places along some of the seams that need re-gluing, and I am finding ways to use epoxy so there is less of a mess to clean up afterward. The most difficult sanding is those damn interior seams, and I have taken to using jewelers files to get at some of the more angled parts. The sanding is hard even though I wear a respirator and protective eye wear. Shit-the fine particles- still finds its way into my lungs and eyes. I have ventilation which I run in addition to having the rotary sander hooked up to a dust bag. In between sanding and gluing, I am fashioning wooden elements that will eventually attach to the bow and stern transoms as a way to bring visual continuance to the boat, something that a traditional shipwright wouldn't necessarily think of...unless he were of the artistic persuasion...but then, boats were built for functional purposes, not art. And who in their right mind would try to build a boat like this. The etching complete, the stern transom attached. Onward, Sailor.

Back to sanding

2011-10-19T00:04:00.000-05:00

Its not the best phone camera picture but you get the idea. The stern transom etch will be ready on Wednesday and the edges of the laps were sanded smooth this evening. I may have to get a brace for my hand, which has never really healed fully from this summer's hard push. Just the hour of sanding tonight has it inflamed. There is not that much sanding to do, really, but lots of polishing forthcoming.

What it is

2011-10-18T08:54:00.000-05:00

These are the lobster buoys I have been making. Not done yet, though.

Making lobster buoys

2011-10-17T10:53:00.001-05:00

I am still waiting for the etched stern to be completed. The boat is prepped for gluing the stern back in place. I have am also ready to resume sanding once the painting of the lobster buoys are complete.

Buoy

2011-10-12T00:55:00.001-05:00

"A floating device having many different purposes"

Glass boat

2011-10-09T20:34:00.000-05:00

Once I got the glass boat into the studio, I began to remove the stern transom. This required using an industrial heat gun, but with careful control as to not melt parts of the boat I did not want removed. Heat was applied to the seams where the nasty smelling weld-on #40 epoxy joined the transom to the lapstrakes. This is the new stern transom before the new etch. I have it in place to see where the fit problems might be, and there are a few. It is a good tight fit on the bottom and the top, but both sides are a little off. Some of this can be resolved just by clamping, but not in the same way you would clamp a wooden boat, primarily because plastic, Plexiglas, isn't as flexible as wood-it will snap quicker. The first thing is to get the etch back on. Once the etch is complete I can re-attach the stern transom and move on to getting the seats in, which are very modestly suggested. Someone asked me if I was going to install any ribs. The answer is no. There might be a cross brace but it would be for purely aesthetic reasons rather than structural. After that, sanding and polishing, should be the last thing. Then....onward to the third boat.

a happy place

2011-10-09T00:37:00.001-05:00

time and water

2011-10-07T17:15:00.000-05:00

As the summer begins to slip away, the ache to be near water has not. I am spending time in the studio, however, slowly fabricating my fishing objects and finishing my glass boat which was relocated to the new studio today. After a long break (since July, really), I am eager to return to to her. There are some new ideas surrounding Old Man Jenkins, the first boat I built, and if they work out, I will post the results soon. I have my paddle in many waters, so to speak, which makes it harder to keep one's head above the waves. But at least the glass boat is in a space I can really work on it now. I had a few helping hands to relocate her to the new space. These guys were terrific (Hill, Still, and Godd, respectively), and made the process go very smoothly, considering the boat's incomplete repair. The cradle for the boat did just that, and I can build a shell around it for shipping. There are slates on the bottom sizable for forklift blades to lift the crate into trucks...

Reflection II

2011-09-27T22:12:00.000-05:00

The act of reflecting or the state of being reflected. Something reflected or the image so produced, as by a mirror.

Careful or long consideration or thought. The bending back of a structure or part upon itself, a transformation.

2011-09-22T19:52:00.000-05:00

It has been a busy semester so far and I am behind on the blog a bit. As the days get cooler, finally, I am itching to get back to the boat, which I still have not got to the new studio. The platform/cradle is built and now it is just a matter of organizing a crew of people to assist with the gentle and careful walking of the boat down the hallway to the freight elevator, keep her suspended while we elevate down to the main floor and then nest her onto the cradle. At least we don't have to dead-lift this one down two floors. Once she's on, its lifting her onto the truck and driving her to the studio where she will, and I say this with the utmost confidence, clean up nicely. Meanwhile, I will just have to imagine my happy place.

Reflection

2011-09-10T11:16:00.004-05:00

the act of reflecting or the state of being reflected. Something reflected or the image so produced, as by a mirror.

Careful or long consideration or thought.

The bending back of a structure or part upon itself, a transformation

2011-08-31T17:55:00.002-05:00

As mentioned in the previous post, a structural support is in the works in order to move Watermen from the current studio to the new studio. Here is the beginning stage...My friend Grant worked up the drawings and will be constructing the platform/pallet and the cradles.

Lesson I Repeated

2011-08-29T21:50:00.002-05:00

Classes have begun and it is a busy time. I am also moving my studio. This has put a crimp in my production and my eagerness to complete the Watermen boat. The boat must be crated before it can move from the studio to the other. I should have learned the first time with the 18' dory...trying to get that out of a third floor studio was pretty challenging. If you look at the older posts, you will see that the dory had to be dead-lifted down to the second floor, hauled through the main gallery, and then dead-lifted down to the first floor. The difference is that this boat is only 8'. The other difference, however, is this boat is constructed out of cast acrylic, not wood. The material moves differently. And, the structural damage from the summer is not completely repaired. The stern transom is glued back on. The bow transom is still half attached. Yet because this boat is smaller, I should, with much tender care from assistants, be able to maneuver it down the hallway and take the two turns to the freight elevator. The boat has to be held in the elevator at an angle so there is no pressure on either end. Once the boat is on the first floor, it can be crated. The crate is currently under construction. I will post more information in the days to come. The log of my recent seven thousand mile journey will continue once things settle down.

Oh Canada!

2011-08-29T21:28:00.000-05:00

There is much work to do.

2011-08-26T10:45:00.000-05:00

2011-08-22T08:09:00.005-05:00

I would stay in Galilee for a couple of more hours. I had a cup of clam chowder and soda crackers at George’s. It was early; the tour bus crowd was taking the ferry to Block Island. I stopped and asked someone who looked like a local where the old fishing boats were, and she directed me a couple of blocks away and also recommended Point Judith. I finished my chowder as I walked. I stopped in at Marines Services and bought a pair of Xtratufs (they would come in handy later) and a coffee mug that said “Eat fish, wear Grundens.” I asked the shop keeper how the rubber boots were suppose to fit; his reply was “ depends on what kind of fishing you plan on doing.” “I’m not really sure just yet,” I told him, “depends how this mid-life thing plays out.” He went on to talk about his own mid-life thing, and tried to sell me his last pair of knee-high rubber boots that were too big. I strapped the Xtratufs onto my camera bag, one on either side. I already hated that the made me look like a greenhorn, pristine as they were. What was I thinking? I wasn’t even fishing, and had not fished in years.

As I walked back toward the beach to my car I stopped to talk to a guy spraying off the fishy remains of some catch. The Enterprise was on its way in as we chatted. The guys unloading were not interested in people walking up off the streets and snapping photographs of them or their catch. I did ask what the catch was (squid). I was interested in the offload process, but clearly they did not appreciate strangers. I don't look like a tourist. After awhile you get a sense of the approachability of some people, and east coast fishermen are hell bent on protecting their image as curmudgeons. One of the guys put a large container on top of another container and in front of the conveyor that was moving the catch from the boat to the shore, so I could no longer see the squid. They kept looking back at me. I was out of the way of forklifts sandwiched between a wooden pole and a used pallet. Clearly my presence was uncomfortable for them, so I put away my camera and moved on. I deleted the images I had already taken. I don’t need that kind of karma following me around. The old woman from the lighthouse shows up unexpectedly from time to time already, and she is enough trouble.

Wandering sailor....

2011-08-18T11:29:00.002-05:00

What do you do with a drunken sailor?

2011-08-12T00:34:00.001-05:00

Instead of exploring the island more, I gave into the ongoing restlessness and continued to drive to Lews where I could catch the ferry across the Delaware Bay to Cape May. The seventy minute ride was not unpleasant; it did feel good to stop driving and let someone else take over. I enjoyed letting the sun warm my face. I was reminded of my Catamaran ride in Maine last year and the embarrassing moment I unexpectedly lost my sea legs. I also lost my breakfast over the side, and into the wind. What came up did not go over, it flew back at me and the unfortunate souls who happened to be just behind me. It took me three days to get my land legs back. No, this was an easier ride, the swells low, and the ride smooth. On the other end, Cape May, New Jersey, I anticipated visiting some shipwreck I’d heard about but found the area so overly full of tourists, I did not have the patience to wade through the crowds. I spent about an hour walking near the water at a less populated beach, watching people play with their dogs. There was a family of dolphins swimming close to shore, a middle-aged truck driver and his school teacher wife said they were so happy to see them in the area again. A father and son were fishing. I could almost hear the sizzling of an elderly couple with already too baked and sagging skins. They were dozing in lawn chairs, each with a new york times crossword puzzle neatly folded in their lap.

I continued to wander up the east coast through New Jersey, New York. Both were white knuckle driving. Too many cars, too much speed, too much traffic, too much road construction. I just wanted to slow down. The good thing was that it kept me alert, scared and awake enough to want to get the hell away from both, and I was happy to finally get into Connecticut. I did not stop there, however, and drove until I reached Galiee, Rhode Island. Though I had only driven six hours, the daily miles were catching up with me. It felt like the same drive in which I make my art was spilling over into my traveling, and I needed to push less, relax more, and go with the flow.

Galilee is a small fishing village that has a connection to Canada. The story goes a man from Nova Scotia, Thomas Mann, settled in the area. One day he was fishing and happened to name the town Galilee after a passerby asked where he was. It just stuck. Jerusalem is a short distance.....that away. Cloudy and misting, I got out of the car and walked along the beach towards town, about a half a mile. The space opened wider than the container housing my loneliness. Solitude is just solitude, and other days it feels like I am a 61 year old endurance swimmer attempting to stretch my body between two strange and unfamiliar borders. What the hell I was doing, driving 7000 + miles alone, mostly in silence, to sit in silence on some craggy rock over-looking the St. Lawrence Seaway? Inside my head, the conversation was getting pretty loud. Out of the corner of my mind’s eye, the old woman who used to tie my fish nets in knots lit an oil lamp in the lighthouse, and laughed like a drunken sailor.

Fishing Expedition and Baseball

2011-08-08T22:55:00.013-05:00

From Nashville, TN, I drove to Newport News Virginia. Ceramic Professor Emeritus Marlene Jack from the College of William & Mary (in Williamsburg Virginia) recommended Glen McClure’s photography exhibition Endangered Species: Watermen of the Chesapeake at the Mariner’s Museum. It is showing at the Museum through mid October. http://www.marinersmuseum.org/exhibitions/waterman-exhibition This quiet, compelling exhibition containing about sixty-five photographs and a short documentary film, illustrates the hardworking nature of fishing, the strength and perseverance of fishermen (which also includes women), and the cultural and environmental impact of human population on the bay. High nutrient pollution, excess sewage, and fertilizer runoff all contribute to increased deadzones which make it harder for oysters and other species in the bay to thrive. The museum also has an international small boat collection in a separate building. Here, one can view a Sampan (China), a raft made from papyrus and gourds (Egypt), and a Umiak (Alaska).

I would have liked to spend more time exploring the local history and various fishing communities in the area. However, this was not really a research expedition. Remember freedom? It was a sort of “fishing expedition,” the kind where I think I need to step away of my usual routine/daily environment and go to a favorite “fishing hole;” I might just come to see the world with fresh eyes, or see myself with more clarity. Like the character Lt. Daniel Kaffee in the movie A Few Good Men who felt he could think better with his baseball bat nearby, going to places where water and land share an intimate space together, mingling like big salty air, that is my baseball bat. It gives me the spaciousness to make my art if I can wash the dirty socks in my head after sliding into home base...or being called out.

Though I was not on a schedule with the exception of arriving in Pleasant Bay Nova Scotia by the 12^th of July, restlessness prevailed, and I continued driving. I drove through underwater tunnels and on loooong above water bridges across the bay. As I drove towards Chincoteague, home to a herd of wild ponies tended by the volunteer fire department, I passed a satellite station for NASA (near Wallops). It just seemed out of place, like something from the twilight zone, not quite real. Instead of camping, I settled in at a modest hotel in Chincoteague and walked the few blocks to Bill’s restaurant for some local whitefish. It was enough for two meals. I ate half then packed the remainder for a cold breakfast in the morning.

A Different Kind of Fishing Expedition...

2011-08-04T00:55:00.015-05:00

After pushing so hard to complete the Watermen boat project within, perhaps, an overly enthusiastic deadline, I finally took the hint not only from the boat but from my body. I had pushed both beyond healthy and did not want to break either beyond repair. As with anything, moderation can be a guiding light. I have been on a different kind of fishing expedition, one that has taken me nearly seven thousand miles in thirty-one days.

I left Oklahoma on July fourth, making way to Nashville, TN, about eleven hours of driving. I actually forgot it was the 4^Th and was quickly reminded with a traffic jam near a downtown ballpark just blocks from the Lipstick Lounge….a small corner hot spot with a policy of diversity. It was closed because it was a holiday. Still, I considered this day, and the days to come, independence day for me; I began a new journey with the intention of just allowing my response to the world evolve naturally. There was no need to plan; the trip was an act of freedom. I was traveling solo in the Argo (a trusty Subaru Forrester) using modern technology: a good old fashion road atlas (thanks to Lynn at State Farm). Emily, an electronic GPS guide with a British accent, sat shotgun; she was inaccessible in Canada.

When I woke the morning of day two, the rear tire on the passenger side of the Argo was fairly flat. I found the Parkway Service Station nearby. Ed jacked up the rear and sprayed soapy water as he spun the tire ‘round. Sure enough, bubbles began to form in the center of the tire where he found…and extracted….a large rusted nail. He plugged the hole with a nylon/rubber cord that would adhere itself and become a permanent fixture on the tire. He even went so far as to say the plug would probably have a longer life span than the tire itself. As Ed was making the repair, he talked about Tennessee having some of the best roads in the country. One of the reasons is the use of crumb rubber mixed into the asphalt. The rubber, according to studies completed by the Tennessee Department of transportation, had a number of effects; reduced cracking due to added strength and durability of the mixture, a reduction in the “backwash” a vehicle sprays when the roads are mildly wet, and possibly there is a noise reduction. Not only were the roads smooth, but they were also clean. I saw very little road kill and very little trash along the shoulders.

Ed also talked about his love for caving, and perhaps he even used the word Speleological, which has more to do with a scientific interest, examining the structure and physics of these spaces rather than the recreational sport approach. I suppose they overlap. He talked about specific caves and hidden caverns, and also gave a bit of a history lesson; Big Bone Cave used to be operated as a saltpeter mine, and saltpeter was used to make gunpowder. You can find out more information by stopping by to see Ed:

http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Parkway+Service+Station,+nashville+tn&ll=36.149415,-86.663976&spn=0.008993,0.012832&oe=utf-8&client=firefox-a&fb=1&gl=us&cid=0,0,9577487007509197659&z=16&iwloc=A

or by looking at the following link:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Big_Bone_Cave

If you look at the recent entries over this past month, I have posted images and limited musings about my travel. As I re-enter back into the more routine of daily life, routine, yet changed, well, you will just have to come back to see where this fishing expedition took me and what I learned.

Touch II

2011-07-26T23:30:00.002-05:00

Touch II

Flint of your touch arcs
a slow blue heat, shutters
in the sustaining
distant wind
that carries your voice
two thousand miles
through land-locked
states, and you
and I could bathe
in this fire
burning us close,
closer
until the waves
of the Pacific
simmer in salty exultation.

Small Boats In Contemplation

2011-07-24T21:00:00.001-05:00

Small boat In A Big Pond

2011-07-23T07:32:00.004-05:00

Cape Breton is probably one of the most beautiful places I have ever experienced. Every day is different, and one can experience nearly all four seasons in one day. While it did not snow, it was 8 Celsius (48 Fahrenheit) one rainy yet still beautiful day. In this image, a small fishing boat, converted into a tour boat, takes people from Pleasant Bay out to see gray and harbor seals, finback, minke, and pilot whales.

From Gampo Abbey, the Shambala Buddhist Monastery, one could hear seals singing in the wee hours of the morning (before 5am).

Where Water, Sky & Land Meet

2011-07-22T23:00:00.003-05:00

Last light

2011-07-11T08:26:00.002-05:00

2011-07-10T06:50:00.000-05:00

The Enterprise, which is a trawler, came in with a load of squid. The guys unloading didn't want to be photographed, nor did they want their catch photographed. The port of Galilee is tourist oriented with small seashore shops and food places that advertise at least five different kinds of chowder. I guess these ol' fishing boys get tired of the "tourist" snapping photos and generally getting in the way of their work. However, not all of the stereotyped east coast fishermen are grumpy. One guy talked to me about the type of boats moored nearby and what the catch was lately, which was mostly groundfish and lobster.

Port of Galilee Rhode Island

2011-07-08T22:09:00.000-05:00

Untying the knots

2011-07-07T23:17:00.000-05:00

Recently I decided to take a bit of a break from the boat. I thought it better to take time for reflection and give my hands a rest as well. They are still pretty beat up. When I decide to do something, I go in it all the way, no holding back. There is something about the physicality of making for me, that movement, the blending of muscle and thought...or losing oneself in the making that thoughts seem more ethereal.

I am on another road trip. And as this one goes, there is not much time for research as much as I want to do the research. This kind of research, focusing on a community, takes time. I'm moving through space too fast right now, driving at least ten hours a day: Oklahoma, Arkansas, Tennessee, Virginia, Maryland, Delaware, New Jersey, New York, and Connecticut. Rhode Island, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, Maine, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia, Canada. Then I have to come back down, and that is another direction for later.

Bow to the Transom

2011-06-29T15:57:00.000-05:00

The bow transom is re-attached and sanding commences. Once the interior is sanded. I will flip the boat and sand the fractures/epoxy smooth on the exterior. I am making a "transom support" which will sandwich the glass transom between two doublers, one on the exterior, one on the interior. This will add a nice aesthetic, give the boat a visual unity. Both bow and stern transoms will have this extra support. I also got a tip from my friend Jonathan about securing the saw horses the boat was on. In hindsight, I feel like such a dunderhead because I should have thought of that in the beginning! This way they will no long tip (duh). In the meanwhile, I still am having issues with my hands after all the push to finish, so I have to do projects in between sanding. I am still making my fishing pole, so carving that is happening, and I made this little handle for the pole as well. The table in my shop does not stay clean very often right now. I do straighten up about once a week as I begin to lose where I put my tools.

Mending a fracture

2011-06-28T09:51:00.000-05:00

D & K Bait Bags in Little Anse, Nova Scotia

2011-06-25T12:42:00.002-05:00

This is a place I would like to visit.

Sutures: The boat as body

2011-06-22T19:40:00.002-05:00

Though there may be a scar present at the end of this journey, the fisherman will prevail.

New Work: Finishline

2011-06-21T17:16:00.004-05:00

Inspired by the process of materials, this work is constructed from the sandpaper used to smooth the lapstrakes on the Watermen boat. I also wore out the sanding pad on my rotary sander, so the sanding pad makes up one side of this form. Four carriage bolts with washers and wing-nuts hold all the paper to the sanding pad.

Moored

2011-06-17T19:36:00.002-05:00

I have been away from working on the boat a little over a week now. This has actually been good, both for my hands to heal from the stress of sanding for weeks on end, and to just give it a mental rest. NOT working on a project for awhile sometimes helps further the progress of the project, because you give it a spacious room and let it breath. The idea"talks" to you when it is ready; being able to listen to that timing takes practice. So, I "heard" the boat speak to me, though I am 900 miles from my studio, and I now feel I have additional guidance with the repairs. It will not look as I originally planned, yet I am taking the opportunity to use the experience to move the project toward completion. You will just have to wait until the image is posted.

Broken II

2011-06-08T12:53:00.001-05:00

I have begun to assess the damage with the crash and my response to this untimely turn with this project. I feel pretty calm though disappointed. There is grief. So close to finishing. However, I am on the path of repairing, and I will just see what I can do to use this experience as part of the work. The lucky part of it, I guess, is that the transoms blew off in mostly whole pieces. I am replacing the stern transom because the break occurred right across the etch (this is the third stern transom). I think I can repair the bow transom and reattach it. The fractures are large but there is not that many of them. I do not think I can avoid their visual appearance in the project at this point. Some other learning will have to take place.

Broken

2011-06-07T23:09:00.001-05:00

I broke the boat today. It fell off the saw horses. It happened so fast, I caught the stern end as it was falling and as I did, the other end tipped and crashed. I had to walk away from it for awhile and clear my head. I haven’t the heart to take a picture of it broken yet. It is interesting watching my reaction to the mishap. I didn't even swear! I think about the dory and cutting it in half after working on it nearly a year. That was the intention, to break the boat as a way to reference the “brokenness" of the fishing industry in Canada. This is different, as the intention was to show a whole boat through a disappearing/diminishing culture. A sense of hope. I think I will be able to fix it as most of the issue is with the bow and stern sections. There is going to be some cracks now, which I suppose will reveal a “this was a working boat", a boat that was used perhaps, but I had hoped to maintain a clean visual appearance just the same. Maybe I still can. I was so close to finishing it, working long hours for weeks on end. Somehow I need to persevere, like the fisherman, and turn this boat around.

Rail Rally III

2011-06-07T00:23:00.000-05:00

Challenging progress on the rails today, yet I think it will hold together (knock on wood). I decided to add an interior rail because I wanted to give evidence of the maker's hand which disappears with industrial technology. It is a sign of hope. I am also reminded of when boats were built by fishermen and the trickle-down effect as a result of the 1992 cod moratorium in Canada. Fishermen did not only lose their jobs, the demand for boats (this is old school now) diminished, the fish plants began to close and so on. With the Chesapeake Bay, the largest estuary in the US, the health of the oyster population is directly linked to the health of the water, primarily because oysters are natural filters. They can not, however, keep up with growing human populations and with the resultant pollution which ends up creating dead zones in the bay, areas where oxygen is depleted to the point that fish, crab, and other species die. At one point in history, there were about 9, 000 Watermen on the bay. Watermen is what the fishermen were called and they are still called today though there are less than 3,000. Also particular to the Chesapeake Bay is the Skipjack, a kind of sloop-like fishing sail boat used for harvesting oysters. The boat currently in production is an Eastport Pram.

Hands & Sand

2011-06-01T22:42:00.000-05:00

I have been working the laps on the interior of the boat pretty steadily, between four and nine hours a day, every day. Needless to say, my hands are taking a beating from gripping the electric sanders. The Dewalt orbital sander works best for overall sanding and the Ryobi sander is better for the edges because it is smaller.
A few years ago, a tendon on my right hand ring finger popped off the bone at the joint nearest the fingernail. I had to wear a brace for over eight weeks, and I was told I could not paddle my canoe (I did anyway, I couldn't stand being off the water for that long...but I was careful), and then weeks of physical therapy afterward. That finger is now sore along with stress on the rest of the hand, particularly strained is the area between the thumb and pointer finger on both hands. I have been icing and taking an anti-inflammatory. I gave it a days rest and shorted a couple of longer days. I am hoping only one-two more days of sanding before I can go back to the buffing. I am working hard, and its frustrating that it is taking a long time. It will be satisfying when it is done, but I feel pretty beat up right now.

Mardi Gras Revisited

2011-05-30T12:51:00.002-05:00

This image was taken last year in Golden Meadow, Louisiana at the height of the BP Oil Spill. It was recently accepted into a show at The Pump House Regional Arts Center in La Crosse, WI.

Opening June 3rd at the Cordova Historical Museum in Cordova, Alaska is the annual Fish Follies exhibition. My image Tony will be in the exhibition. He was trimming nets into sizes that inshore fishermen could use.

Can you see me now?

2011-05-26T16:06:00.000-05:00

The exterior of the pram is near completion of the first polishing. I noticed a need for some spot repairs along the laps where the stitch holes are, but its an easy clean up. then it is flipping the boat and working out the interior laps, smoothing them. The last image is through the boat! I am doing a bit of a fisherman's jig!

Spit Shining

2011-05-25T20:25:00.001-05:00

You can see the difference between the polished and the unpolished areas.

Cleaning up nicely: Before and after test

2011-05-25T16:23:00.001-05:00

Pram update

2011-05-24T12:23:00.001-05:00

Here is the pram after base sanding at 80 grit. The base sanding, which took weeks to finish, took care of the edges of the lapstrakes smoothing them out so there is a nice contour in the shape of the hull. Today, I work in the 120, 220, and 320 grit with the rotary sander, then will move to hand wet sanding with 400, 600, then 1200 grit. I have not been able to find 800 grit...so if anyone knows, give a shout out. After the sanding is polishing. Right now this image makes it look rather cloudy still, but its actually not bad and I suspect it will clear up as the sanding continues. The upper lapstrakes on both sides (near the rails) is hard to sand in this position, so I will work on those when I turn the boat topside. I have chosen a very pared down seat design using Plexiglas as the support and the plywood as the seat. I think it will look terrific. When I get to that part....its the homestretch for this project and I can send it out into the world.

Base sanding

2011-05-22T16:48:00.001-05:00

The base sanding of the hull and exterior of the pram is now complete...but not without having to replace some parts. The rubber pad on my Dewalt rotary sander lost its tackiness and would no longer hold the surface of the sandpaper. Luckily, I found a replacement locally. The rest of the sanding should go smoothly and more quickly. With luck, I will be buffing the exterior clear by the end of the week.

2011-05-13T16:15:00.000-05:00

I am working fairly steady hours in the studio right now sanding and scraping the lapstrakes smooth. It is going very slowly yet I hope to have one side of the boat sanded by Tuesday. The difference between sanding Plexiglas and wood is that Plexiglas is harder. I begin with 80 grit paper then move to continually finer grits. EVERYTHING in the studio is covered in plastic dust, including the artist...That band-aid is covering a scrapper "tip o' the finger" cut that probably should have had a couple of stitches. It seems to be healing fine anyway.

Knee deep in shavings

2011-05-02T21:15:00.003-05:00

With the outer rails glued, I am now using a metal scraper to bevel the edges of the lapstrakes so that they achieve a smoother, streamline edge. I am also sanding with a rotary palm sander. Its working great, but it is a lot of arm and hand work. This image does not make the boat look pretty...consider this the "before" image and I will show the after....after...I am fairly confident it will be clear after buffing. I am still working on the seat design, having at least three options currently. I don't have an image of the shavings just yet, but as the pile grows, I'll post. Its getting more interesting....

Rail sanding and coat of epoxy

2011-04-30T15:07:00.000-05:00

Rail Rally and Old Man Jenkins II

2011-04-30T15:01:00.001-05:00

After several days of design experimentation, I decided to give it a rest and begin getting the boat rails glued on to the acrylic glass. I tested the Weld-On #40 by gluing scrap wood to scrap acrylic. It seemed to work just fine, solid. It is funny how materials combined with art making have a way of reminding me how the best of plans easily give way to process and problem solving along the way. I think one thing might happen because of testing, and then am proven wrong. I forget about physics sometimes, tension, pressure. I am reminded of a boat building workshop I took two summers ago through Chesapeake Light Craft and hosted by the International Yacht Restoration School in Rhode Island. David, the instructor, told a wonderful story regarding his five year old son who came up with the phrase "Old Man Jenkins!" as a way to express his frustration. "Old Man Jenkins!" is actually a curmudgeonly character who lives in the sea on SpongeBob SquarePants. I borrowed "Old Man Jenkins!" on the days the epoxy ran beyond my control, and when the scarf joints snaped on the rails when we were gluing them up, and I even named the boat I built at IYRS.

"Old Man Jenkins!" decided to visit with his friend "Surprize" today while I was gluing the rails on the Watermen. There are not scarf joints on these rails. The rail snapped right in the center. This is exactly what happened when I was building the Dory. Remembering how quickly David responded to this new problem, I sprang into action without taking time to say "fuck!" I simply mixed epoxy, glued, clamped, and screwed the rail back into place. Then the screw broke in half inside the rail (ugh geez), so I ended up screwing another in. I will have to deal with the clean up later. So, this makes me think that the Weld-On #40 really is not good for adhering these two materials together. Vibration from sanding can even cause it to come undone (yes, that happened, too). I will be reinforcing with regular epoxy now and probably screws (which will be hidden in the design I am working on in my head). While the one side is clamped and drying, I sanded the other side and applied a thin coat of epoxy. It looks terrific! Yet there is still a long way to go.

more testing

2011-04-27T17:00:00.000-05:00

Last night I experimented with the seat design and want to go with a design that is more simple. This is a test piece with scrap materials. I also made a little rack to get my paddles and oars off the ground, and that unfinished looking stick is a fishing pole waiting to happen....

Project update

2011-04-25T15:55:00.000-05:00

It is the end of the semester and a bit hard to get into the studio these last few days, but the goal for completion is still the end of May. The time in the studio will pick up quickly in the next few days.

Watermen Progress: April

2011-04-18T19:13:00.002-05:00

I am in the studio sanding the edges of the seats so they fit snugly. As I write this, I am also getting ideas on how to simplify the seats, so while the image shows a particular direction, this may not be the final result. The seats and the rails will be wood. I am also modifying the rail design a bit. The wood represents "hope," there is still time to make a difference, all is not lost. It is a clash of the traditional and the technological. In the art world we might say "juxtaposition." In the boat world?

Wood is porous, has flexibility. Plastic, not so much. It bends with heat, like wood might with steaming, yet it is more brittle and fussy when you try to manipulate it. I am looking for a bit of beauty, elegance with the seating, not that this would be important for a crab or oyster fisherman. Its probably part of the bonding that happens between a man and his boat, however, particularly if he is building his own as many fishermen once did. As my friend Rach says, "I was wondering how you were going to put it together....it seems like a daunting task." Good things take time. And the putting together, well, there is more than one way to interpret that.

Grace

2011-04-08T00:07:00.006-05:00

When the sleep fades

I wake on the shore

that same stretch of sand and rock

wind and wave

and I wake

to see her

in a shiny blue

chiffon dress

her wet mouth

taking you whole, not

like the lover waiting,

land-locked and desperate

for your touch

but the rogue wave deep

off the banks of Halibut Rock.

Every morning it is the same. I find

myself

sleep walking, or

wandering the shore

in disbelief,

wide-eyed, shivering,

and searching for you,

the ache

bringing me close,

closer,

until I can no longer hear

your voice call my name.

until I no longer feel

saving you

was beyond my survival skills.

Your own ache leading you

away.

Drowning once

was enough for me.

There is still a gasp.

And no time to say grace.

test, test, test

2011-03-27T19:41:00.001-05:00

In between gluing, I have been testing the wooden rails. Since plexi-glass is not that flexible, I have had to be especially careful regarding tension so the boat does not crack. This image is of the rail dry clamped to the edge of the glass. When I planed the wood, there were some checks, so the mahogany was trimmed down too thin, I may have to re-cut the rails. If you guessed 25 clamps along the eight feet, you guessed correctly. Every few inches. I saw the side of the boat begin to curl in as I pulled the rail tighter along the edge. Maybe I am crazy but I am hoping the materials will have "memory." If I keep it clamped fr a few days, once it comes time to actually gluing and screwing it all together (those beautiful copper screws), it will have loosened up a bit.

Watermen Progress

2011-03-27T15:41:00.002-05:00

I spent the morning in the studio attaching the new stern. I had it stitched but have just been starring at it, fussing with the alignment. It isn't perfect. And I might just have to let it go at that and work out the issue through sanding and polishing. I attached the stern and then ran a bead of epoxy on the interior of the lapstrake edges. I wasn't originally going to do this, but in the end, I want all those edges to be smooth, clean. clear. I am gearing up for some elbow grease kind of physical motions. When I built the Dory boat two summers ago, there was a time where I was bending over and hand sanding so much that I threw my back out. I couldn't stand up straight for weeks. I finally went to a back doc and they had to hook me up to some kind of electrical impulse to overly fatigue the muscles...so they could relax. The thing about hand-sanding is that you get best control of how your motions affect the materials or object you are working with, but then your body is a wreck afterward. I will be testing my electric sander on some scrap materials but am hoping this will save some wear on my joints. The goal is to have the boat complete by the end of May. The image is a cell phone version...a bit grainy but you get the idea. The little cream marks ever few inches is boat tape over the stitch holes. I am filling those as well so they should not be very noticeable. Its getting closer but still much work to be completed.

on the road....again

2011-03-24T23:44:00.000-05:00

2011-03-21T10:41:00.000-05:00

Images can provide a sense of the hard working ethics of fishermen who, in the end, do not always fare well. In the past, they often made their own boats, sails, nets, traps, and even anchors. As a result of advancing technology, natural disaster (think gulf oil spill, and recent tsunami), mismanagement of fisheries, and the greediness of others, many fishermen lost their livelihoods, changing their communities. However, some fishing communities, in spite of cultural shifts, find ways to thrive. I am compelled to critique both in my work as a way to honor the passionate spirit of those who once made their living on the water, and for those who continue this labour of love.

In the Distance....

2011-03-16T00:13:00.004-05:00

.....You can see the birds....they are following the fish...on the edge of the horizon....right of the rock....I can hear them calling. I can smell the ocean in the air, feel the wind, the crash of sleepy, cold and wet waves....(you can click on the image to see the birds)

Chesapeake Bay Watermen

2011-03-07T17:04:00.002-06:00

This is the newly etched stern of the fishing pram I am building out of plexiglass. Now I can remove the cracked stern and install this one. The paper is still on the back in this image, and I put the paper back on the front to protect the etch while I work on the remaining aspects of the boat. It is one of those exciting times when you see things coming together, when you don't want to sleep, you just want to keep working (keep hauling in the fish)....

Portal

2011-03-06T22:35:00.000-06:00

My eyes open to morning

blue light,

cold sweat salts

my skin awake.

The thunderous and rhythmic sea

never sleeps, only

calls on my desire

for adventure....

Beside me

the Captain's daughter...

Watermen

2011-03-04T21:52:00.000-06:00

I am excited to say that the etching of the stern is complete and ready for installation. I have not actually seen it yet. I pick it up on Monday. So the end seems a little closer. The third boat is coming closer, too, and this will be the most challenging of the three to build. Photograph of the etched stern forthcoming.....

shorebound

2011-03-02T22:27:00.001-06:00

"Pull em up boys, we're headin' for the shore, tonight we'll be dancing on a St. John's Floor..."

Favorite tool

2011-02-26T18:29:00.000-06:00

I spent some time in the studio today getting a pretty good workout using the spokeshave.

Morning Walk....Somewhere Near Charleston, Ore.

2011-02-26T09:48:00.001-06:00

2011-02-23T09:27:00.001-06:00

People describe my art using various words. A couple of words pop up consistently: Quiet and Passionate. When I first heard these descriptions years ago, I was surprised. What were people seeing that I had not seen in my own work? Yet, as I began to understand more completely the ideas I work with, how these ideas comment on contemporary culture, why I make objects, and how I go about making things, I have come to accept this description. As the world spins out of control, I find myself looking back, at tradition, at what was once built by hand, at what has been lost. And, how this brought the community together. When I was a kid, I knew my neighbors, my neighborhood. The world seems much more transient now, every man for himself. And that's a disappointing human characteristic.

Fishing

2011-02-15T22:07:00.001-06:00

I am currently hand crafting a fishing pole. I will post the image once it is complete. It is a side project I am working on as I continue to work on the glass boat. The glass boat is going slow right now, but the new stern is finally in. I need to glue the bow transom first then etch the name of the boat on the stern transom before I can glue that part to the boat. Once the transoms are in place, I can add the wood rails. I have several hundred 1/16" holes to fill where the copper stitches held the lapstrakes together before gluing. This will ensure that the boat is water-worthy. Though it will be water-worthy, I doubt it will hold much weight. The pressure from weight is what cracked the stern in the first place. To be sure, there will be some water testing in the studio before I put it in a body of water. I am looking forward to that.........

The Cost of a Changing Time

2011-02-12T19:48:00.002-06:00

While I was in Charleston, Ore. I used the public washroom near the fishing docks. Living on a boat, there is not much time for a shower, if you even have one aboard outside of a bucket. You don't really think about these things until something triggers the thought....I wondered what it might feel like to walk into the bathroom of my own house and see this sign. I might be happy, since a three minute shower, hell, even a longer one on a cold day, is cheaper than what I pay now when I get my utility bill. And here I can just pay up front, no stamp needed, no utility deposit.

When I was in Brooklin, Maine, the gas pump was old school. No credit card machinery at the pump. You could still pay with a credit card, but you had to go inside and interact with a live person. I like that much better. There is a sense of HUMAN, a feeling of neighbor. Something slow and deliberate, thoughtful, easygoing.

There is nothing romantic about fishing

2011-02-10T22:03:00.000-06:00

Asleep III

2011-02-01T21:57:00.005-06:00

When the moment strikes, its like a dance, effortless if I take my ego out and just write what needs to be said, let the words just flow. I love it when the poetry comes unexpectedly, like entering through the kitchen door when my back is turned, when I am lost in cutting garlic or massaging the ginger into a new soup. The sailor just walks in. I turn my focus and suddenly I am on a 40 foot schooner trimming the sails. I'm on the beach at four am untying the knots in my fishing net, that some old crazy fisherman feels the need to knot up every night. I get up in the morning to prepare the net and find the knots. She always leaves a salmon sandwich in a paper bag nearby. I've only seen her once, walking quickly down the beach and giggling. There is something about this ritual I don't mind, however, her tying the knots, me untying the knots every morning, something that keeps me humbled. I don't eat the sandwich, Hallie, my 12 year old border collie looks forward to it in her breakfast bowl.

The artwork is a bit slow as well. I have not worked on the glass boat since December 25 when I cracked the stern. The new stern will be in next week. I have been distracted, but in a way, its been good because I push so hard when I do the work, I need to give things a rest sometimes. I am not starting any new projects, just finishing up on-going ones; the boat, the 1300 messages in bottles, the rowing oars need to be finalized as well. All this boat building, building boats that don't float, rowing oars tethered together, its all leading me on this journey, somewhere, the wandering is not all for naught....or knot....or not. At least that's the hope.

For the love

2011-01-13T10:14:00.002-06:00

Newport, Oregon is a port town of about 10,000. It has the largest fishing fleet in Oregon, is the Dungeness crab capital, and the site of Oregon State University's Hatfield Marine Science Center. The Pacific Fleet of the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) will make Newport home in 2011.

Origin of Making

2011-01-11T22:51:00.008-06:00

One of the things that impresses me about the fishing industry is their ability to take what most would consider waste and turn it into a resource. I know this is not always the case, yet there is evidence that suggests a philosophy toward a sustaining practice that goes beyond the harvest. The shells from oysters, for instance, are bagged and used for landscaping in a similar manner that stones or shredded bark might be used in a garden. They can help control a slug population, and are paving material for roads, with many other potential uses. Truck and automobile tires are recycled to create barriers or bumpers between boat and dock. They are cut into pieces and used in fishing gear such as trawling nets. Even a small piece of rubber is used as a stopper on the bait bag I found. This is in stark contrast to the "throw-away" popular culture where objects are mass produced cheaply and not mean to last. When I talked with a herring boat crew in Halifax, one of the fishermen commented that they recycle the scales from the herring they catch and sell it. Anything that might have an iridescent sheen to it, lipstick or nail polish, might have fish scales as an ingredient.

When an object is made by a person, there is an exchange between the body and the object, the maker's hand is revealed. What happens to this value when objects are mass produced and the "maker" removed? When "making" becomes less socially acceptable in the dominant culture in favor of high speed technological advances, will the next generation consumer believe fish comes from the freezer section and not from the water?

By hook or by hook

2011-01-09T20:57:00.001-06:00

I imagine what my hands would feel like working the lines attached to these hooks. The repetitive motion might be comforting in some way. Sure there are methods to it, because fishermen are stuck in their ways. I know it under my skin, have had a hook in me more than once. Yet I imagine how rough my hands might become, working these lines day in and day out, the sun beating my back, my arms becoming firm again, firm like when I hauled the Mary Margarete solo. She was a stable and sure boat, she sure was. Those hands, they have a roughness, like 400 grit wet/dry sandpaper. There is a smoothness, but a texture that would sooth any itch. I think of young Cameron on the Western Seas commenting on how he overcame his seasickness; he learned to breath with the waves. So I imagine what that must feel like, breathing with the waves and finding a rhythm casting out the lines.

Siren

2011-01-08T20:44:00.018-06:00

Thick the rope

a thousand braided strands tethered.

Anchor resting, waiting shore,

and a ship

that would plunge us both

into the sea.

It is an unrequited love, the sea

deep swell, rock

wall wave

the mare of night calling my name.

Naufarge III

2010-12-29T19:42:00.003-06:00

...After all these years
memory still scrapes at my fear
of being knocked overboard and sunk
when night comes too close
then closer.
Still, there is something in the air between us
like an ocean waiting for forgiveness
for the pull of the moon's light
to kiss the rough landscape of two sailors
trying to find home.

2010-12-26T14:50:00.001-06:00

Boat building is never a solitary activity. At some point, you just need an extra pair of hands. I could have used them yesterday working on the bow, which cracked from too much pressure. What was I thinking? For some reason, that I could stand it up on its bow so I could climb a ladder and epoxy the stern without the epoxy running. Ufff. The part of me that wants to do it without assistance thought "I hope this isn't a nine hundred dollar mistake." Well, I am just going to keep working, problem-solving. Using a heat gun, I can remove the excessive epoxy. The heat turns the glue to a rubbery substance. I have to be careful not to melt the p-glass underneath, so it is heat it up, pick off with a jeweler's flat nose pliers, cool down, repeat. In the meanwhile, I should just give myself a break.

Drowning II

2010-12-23T21:04:00.001-06:00

Time slips

Ethereal

A ghost in evening

When slowly across the sky

Light from sun and moon

Join like water

Few notice.

Drowning is like that.

Western Seas

2010-12-22T22:52:00.001-06:00

My friend John took these images of the Western Seas, the boat young Cameron was fishing with. Each image was shot five times at different exposures and then layered using Photoshop elements.

Fisherman

2010-12-22T13:44:00.015-06:00

Cameron started fishing at age sixteen. In this image he says he is twenty-two. John and I were walking the boat basin and talking about the characteristics of the boats, which boats we would be willing to take out in the ocean, and which ones we fantasized about owning or living on. As we walked the docks, Cameron came out of the wheelhouse and asked us what we were taking photographs of. This opened up a terrific conversation. Cameron said his boat the Western Seas, which had crab in the hold and could carrying three hundred pots, came into the Charleston port the night before because his skipper was ill. They had plans to get back out on the water in the evening. He talked about being sick the first two years of fishing. He would pull a pot and at the same time heave over the side of the boat. "it is a mind thing, and eventually you get over it. You have to learn to breathe with the waves." If I remember correctly, Cameron had fished on a couple of other boats in the basin before landing a berth on the Western Seas. He liked it. It brought in the crab. We got a few more images, got his email address to send him photographs, though he mentioned he did not use it much, and continued walking the docks.

There were a couple of guys with grocery bags heading to the Grumpy J just a few feet away. They were cursing pretty well, and Cameron thought it might have something to do with the two week voyage on the water to Alaska they were about to embark on. We also met up with a couple of fishermen who had just taken a large plastic bin of bait bags off their truck and were heading to their boat. One of them mentioned that they were a couple of days behind the rest of the fleet and needed to get out on the water. He did not offer the reason for the delay and did not want his photo taken. His boating partner was up for a photograph, however. I can not recall the name of their boat; John mentioned to them he was familiar with it and had taken some photographs. They were in a hurry, so we did not keep them long. I think if we could have, we would have liked to hear more of their stories and maybe get an email address to send them images.

Blistering find

2010-12-21T00:11:00.004-06:00

There always seems to be a "fishing gear junkyard" nearby the boat docks or processing centers. Here, a variety of "boaty" stuff is strewn about, some still usable, some beyond use. I'm sure I could make something from the miles of discarded rope, floats, and rusting fixtures. Still, there is something about these places that belong, that help with the history, that tell a story of a community gone through change.

It is these communities that have real heart. The fisherman takes care of his boat, the boat takes care of the fisherman, and together they take care of their families and their community. They help feed the world. Nature puts her two cents in if you like it or not; when your engine quits in sixty foot seas, or the grounds close because the crab are imature and soft. Still, there is a calling, and you go, you follow that call, not for money or prosperity, but for some other reason. You see it in the faces. There are no words to describe that blistering bruise. The sea just kicks you sometimes. And you are awake for forty or more hours handing her your ass over and again.

I found a bait bag on one dock that must have been dropped or picked off a boat by some over-sized but seemingly hungry bird. I watched as a couple of fat gulls poked at the smelly remains inside the bag, probably sardine. I put the bag aside, yet then had an overwhelming urge to have it for myself. It sat in the car for four days after wrapping it in two plastic Ziploc bags. I meant to clean the remains out long before I left the Pacific Northwest and never got around to it. I wondered what I would have said had I been questioned by TSA. I took care of it once I did get home and will give it a few days in the air before bringing it into my studio. The bag is in good condition, the netting tightly knotted. The rubber stopper at the top is made from a recycled truck tire, and the rope that threads through this stopper is a strong nylon. Attached to that is a metal clip that attaches to the inside top of the crab pot, allowing the bag to hang free. I can not image this bait bag being crafted any other way but by hand. It is going to take some time to make fifteen hundred of them.

Processing crab

2010-12-20T15:36:00.008-06:00

Once the crab is off loaded, they are processed in various ways and shipped to market. Some are pre-cooked and iced first while others are shipped live.

Crab

2010-12-19T22:43:00.009-06:00

Walking the Charleston and Newport boat basins, many boats were in and waiting to off-load. I was able to talk to fishermen and get fairly close to the off load process. This makes one think of the origin of food and what it takes to get it to the table. Fishermen in the west coast have been friendlier than east coast fishermen. I'm not sure why that is, but it has been my experience. I could hardly get the fishermen on the east to talk to me. In the west, they have been willing to answer questions and tell stories. Even folks at the marine supply store were open to conversation.

The state of Oregon is recognized as having "certified sustainable fisheries" for Dungeness crab by the Marine Stewardship Council. Sustainability efforts for Oregon Dungeness crab are the result of many people and many organizations working together. Fishermen, Crab Associations, the Oregon Department of Fish and Wildlife, all work together to keep the stock healthy. They test the size and maturity levels and only harvest mature male crabs.

A river runs Coho

2010-12-18T12:35:00.002-06:00

Visiting Marlow Creek, Elk Creek, and the Millacoma River today. My friend John is improving habitats for Salmon by designing ways to improve the natural flow of water Salmon need to work their way up stream. In this first image, he placed rocks to help control the flow and direction of water. In other streams, he placed trees in the waterways. These efforts create places for Salmon to hide, vary the flow of water, and positively effect water temperature.

Right now it is Coho spawning season. Steelhead and Chinook are also in these areas. but have spawned or will spawn later in the season. We walked in the creeks, when it was not too deep for rubber boots, to try to get some images of the Coho. Most of the fish we saw had already spawned. In this image, the tail has lost its pigment, and the fish is scarred from its journey. We saw carcasses pulled up on land by other animals. Some were partially eaten, others were decomposing, adding their rich nutrients to the soil.

We also saw this fish latter, which helps the fish climb or leap through rushing waters, and gives them some time to rest in a calmer pool of water before continuing the migratory journey.

Feast

2010-12-16T10:40:00.001-06:00

This gull was having a feast of squid. The squid was bait on a boat, and it was under wraps, yet about a half a dozen gulls tore into the packaging. Its hard to say what happened to the discolored bird. I think it was unrelated to the feeding frenzy. I stopped by a nearby boat and mentioned the exposed bait to the fisherman who then went and scared the gulls off.

Charleston, Oregon

2010-12-15T21:17:00.001-06:00

It is Dungeness Crab season in Charleston Oregon. The season was to open December 1st, yet boats only began to go out on the 9th, according to one of the sellers on the dock. The crabs are good size, good hardness. These two fishermen were coming in with a small load, and I guessed there were at least 25 in the basket. They seemed in a hurry, so I did not ask if I could photograph the crab, yet I did get this shot.

I traveled all day, starting in Oklahoma, flying to Portland, and then driving four hours to Charleston. As tired as I was, I went right to the marina, suppressing the urge to first stop at the marine supply store to look at all the boat gear.

There are several kinds of boats in the marina, and I will begin posting images of some of the more interesting ones. Different ages, different states of repair, different sizes. There was one for sale that was what I thought not much more than bathtub size. A fisherman thought I should buy it as we passed each other. We both laughed and made comments about its seaworthiness....pint size as it was. I made the joke it was a good size for me, which is why I think he mentioned it in the first place, but I wouldn't take that little scupper very far.

for the love

2010-12-06T22:20:00.003-06:00

For the love of a good boat.....and the sea.

Something in the air....

2010-11-28T14:30:00.002-06:00

I have begun to test the glue for the glass boat and I think I have a winner. I tested a couple of scrap pieces first, but couldn't wait until they dried to see how it would work. That might have been a dangerous move, but I am going on a hunch....and I am pretty good with hunches....

I have been working on some other projects as well. The oars are now complete and I am working out the ideas for their exhibition. The glass bottles are coming along thanks to the inventiveness of one of my assistants who found a method to pound them out quickly. I did the first six hundred two years ago, and Britni completed nearly four hundred in the last couple of months. Only 200 left to go.

There is not enough time in the day to do everything I have swimming around in my head. Everything takes time. I think its worth it though I have to say I am sometimes inpatient. Others think I should work on smaller projects and get them out for exhibit asap. I would like to, but I guess I don't work that way. I like the challenge of doing something no one else is doing, stretching my own capabilities. I'm always learning new things; new materials, new skills, and it leads me to more ideas. Quick ideas don't always come quickly. Ache came that way, when I was not even working....I was cleaning the studio and I saw something and went with it. I hope this treadmill of production will make some kind of difference somewhere, to someone other than me. Til then.....row, row, row....

enviromental cues blog

2010-11-22T21:53:00.001-06:00

I found that Creative Research Adventures gets more hits on a daily basis than the new Environmental Cues blog, so I have merged the two. One blog is easier to manage, and you will be able to see the history of this long term project in one virtual space.

glass boat

2010-11-13T10:39:00.005-06:00

I have been working on the second of three boats. The first one, Old Man Jenkins was a 17' Dory. The image posted here is of its raw constructed state before sanding, priming, painting, and then breaking. The breaking of the boat signifies the broken fishing industry and the resulting effects on inshore fishermen in both Canada and the US.

The US has its own share of fishing problems. The recent oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico, the troubled MSA, mismanaged fisheries, buyouts to eliminate fishing jobs, all contribute to the loss of the livelihoods of independent fishermen. This second boat further addresses the disappearance of fishermen and small fishing communities. In its just stitched stage, the 8' fishing pram (it should really be a skipjack, yet materials, size, funding prohibit) will make reference to the Chesapeake Bay Watermen.The Chesapeake Bay is the largest estuary in the United States. The watershed is 64,000 square miles. Ongoing pollution and disease have devastated the Bay resulting in fishermen being forced to take land jobs. 95% of the Bay is unsafe for fishing according to the Chesapeake Bay Foundation.

Glass Boat

2010-11-12T19:33:00.001-06:00

Building boats is not a solitary experience. At some point, you need an extra pair of hands. In this case, because the boat is fragile in its just stitched stage, it took six pairs of hands to turn it upside down. That might seem excessive, yet I did not want to over-stress the rabbet joints of the lapstrakes. Turning the boat upside down before all the stitches were in helped to relax the lapstrakes enough (thank you gravity) that we could joint the troublesome bow into place. It worked. Dillon (my assistant) and I then pulled off the protective paper. Now, a tightening of the stitches and the testing of the adhesives begin. With luck, perhaps the boat will be glued up by the end of next week. I have not decided if I will put seats in. The rails will be wood, and I have decided to install thole pins as well. Special thanks goes to Mike, Grant, Jeff, Garrett, and Spencer for turning the boat on demand..

Leather

2010-11-01T21:58:00.001-05:00

I am finally getting to putting the leathers on the rowing oars I made this summer. After several false starts (it's a wonder I can tie my own shoes), I finally got my directional dyslexia headed in the right direction and laced up the first oar. Only two blisters on one hand from pulling the lace damn tight. I first tried thread for making sails, but the thickness was not working well enough, and I could not get it tight. In the end, I stuck with the thinner lace that came with the leather. Mr. Chase, how does it look from coastal Maine?

Sleep Walking

2010-11-01T00:35:00.002-05:00

I listen to the wind. She speaks to me like the rattling of old bones. In this dream, I wake to hear her calling for the part of me that longs for her. I put on my fishing clothes, warm boots, and walk to the beach. I find her, again, this time calling from snag rock. I am moved by her cries, yet terrified she will pull me closer to that cold, wet center. Loneliness is a hunger feeding on absence, the loss of acceptance. I stand in the water and swallow deep. Breath deep until I feel the ripple in my soul.

Sunday. It is here I remember your body, torn from its root, torn from me, crashing, the November sea taking you in an icy, shivering gasp.

You used to say "in water, there is forgiveness." I wake, screaming "Liar!"

I find myself outside, knees sunk in the sand.

Asleep II

2010-10-25T23:27:00.001-05:00

Sometimes you sit on the shore and watch the waves. You sit for days, with the rain dripping down your back though your slickers are on, the water blurring your vision, while the wind roars in your ears as waves crash, precariously close. You feel that edge-that foamy moment of tension-recede like an outgoing tide. Sometimes, you just let the tide take you in its embrace; you resurface, unsure of the waters that took you out. You know you can survive the rip. Stay calm. Float. Swim parallel to land. Back on shore, you sit. No one else is watching. It is that cold. Ten years go by. Off in the distance, on the edge of fog, is a boat.

Asleep

2010-10-24T02:40:00.001-05:00

One night on the forty-footer Sally-T, we got slammed hard. It was dark, and a wave hit us mid-ship, came from nowhere, we didn't even see it coming. It was all we could do to right the boat, didn't have time to think about how the hell we didn't go under, how she didn't roll though she was floundering. She should have. There are times when being on the open water just makes you sick, and this was one of those times. We drove her through the black of night, dropping gear, hauling ass to get to Desperate Cove, safely out of the wind.

The sea doesn't care who you are and she will take you in an instant. quicker if you blink. Each trough felt like a sinking hole we couldn't pull out of, and each crest a slippery buckling in our knees. The boat an extension of the body, every crash is in our bones.

On this night you want to reach into that cold swell and push the cork back in. Reach past the aching and burning cramps, the gasping breath, and find some shut eye. The woman you picked up at the bar slaps you awake with a stinking Coho, and the sea calls again. On a night like this, you wish you were born on the other side of salt and fish, with willow trees, hot city tar, less Bourbon, and a white picket fence. A beacon, that sea, shining its dreamy light, and you ask yourself before you untie at the dock: Am I awake?

pacific northwest II

2010-10-23T14:45:00.001-05:00

Fishermen have an interior strength, a perseverance and fortitude that I have found unmatched. These hands can fix most anything, can make something out of nothing, can pull you out of freezing water, rewire a cabin, fix a broken engine, and convert energy using green technology. These hands can make crackers (contemporary hardtack, tastier, too), install a window that spans a house, drive a barge, paddle a kayak, and bring a dog's soul back to life. But its not just the hands. The hands are only a vehicle which communicates the love of a good life....

Progress in the studio

2010-10-22T20:07:00.001-05:00

With student assistance, the pram is coming together quickly. One of the side panels is missing about 17 inches of its dovetail joint, so a new section should arrive next week. Once the sides of the boat are stitched together, the bow and stern will get stitched. We also glued the rails together today. The rails may be the only part of the boat that is wood. I hope to have the boat completed in the next two-three weeks. I absolutely have a thing for clamps, too!

Pacific Northwest

2010-10-17T23:34:00.001-05:00

For the past two years my research has taken me to many fishing communities, from Newfoundland and Nova Scotia, Canada, to ports in Massachusetts Maine, Louisiana, Minnesota, and more recently, Coastal Oregon. Astoria, Oregon has a rich history because it is situated right on the Columbia River, the largest river in the Pacific Northwest. It is 1,243 miles long, spans seven states and British Columbia. The Columbia River Bar is a 3 mile stretch of shoals that is difficult, even treacherous, to navigate. About 2,000 ships have sunk in and around the Columbia River Bar. Ships need to have a bar pilot navigate their vessels into port. Deborah Dempsey is one of 16 bar pilots and the only female pilot on the Bar.

While I did not get even close to the Bar, Astoria is worth an extended visit. I had only a few hours because flight delays changed my travel plans. I did spend time in the Columbia River Maritime Museum which has over 30,000 objects and an impressive research library collection. You can click on the link for more information. http://www.crmm.org/. The displays were impressive with actual fishing boats; gill-netters and trollers. Audio included stories from both men and women who fished, worked in the canneries, or experienced the river in some other life-changing manner. A pilot boat, the retired Peacock, is currently installed outside the museum.

To get to Astoria, you pass small communities, some fishing, some more tourist-oriented. Garibaldi had many sport Salmon fishermen out on the water, Cannon Beach with its view of Haystack Rock and kayakers learning to handle their boats in rough surf. I had a very able guide: A former Alaska King Salmon fisherman.

Vanishing America

2010-10-09T18:37:00.000-05:00

Holt Webb of Vanishing America continues to document the effects of the Gulf Coast oil spill. Here is a link to his latest efforts.

http://holtwebb.blogspot.com/2010/10/gulf-oil-spill-isnt-over.html?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=feed&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+vanam+%28VANISHING+AMERICA%29

Something in the Air....

2010-10-09T00:33:00.001-05:00

I am finally getting time to work on the second boat. The first boat, "Old Man Jenkins" was an 18ft. Dory similar to Newfoundland style fishing dories. This second one is based off another John Harris design for an east coast style pram. It will be constructed out of acrylic glass. The pattern is cut, the assistant is hired. My goal is to get the boat together by early December. Since the material behaves differently than wood, the approach to building is also different. Clamping is an issue since the edges where the lapstrakes overlap are thinner. Here is an image of the pattern being cut.