Kayak Building
Hello, me again, yep that annoying insolent teenager who built the site : )
well, this is a whole load of stuff Richard wrote about how he built his Kayak, so if your interested in building yourself, I would check this out if I were you...
I had done some kayaking as a teenager, and I rediscovered it as I approached my 40's. In June 2001 my partner Raquel and I travelled up to Scotland to a demo of Feathercraft folding kayaks. The setting, at Arduainie, was stunning, and Dave Felton of Knoydart was guaranteed to make a sale. We bought 2 kayaks, Kahunas, the smallest and most portable of the Feathercraft. And I was hooked completely, not just on seakayaking, but on the whole idea of "skin on frame" boats. They have such a special feel in the water which is very addictive.
In October 2001 I had to have surgery on a cracked rib, which forced me to abandon paddling for a couple of months. During those first few weeks I spent a ridiculous amount of time trawling around the internet, mainly looking at kayak websites. I came upon two in particular which fired my imagination. First was David Zimmerley's "Arctic kayaks" site. It's packed with information about Inuit craft from the North American arctic. The second was Harvey Golden's "Traditional Kayaks". Harvey Golden specialises in studying and then building faithful replicas of boats from all over the arctic. There are some excellent photos on the website, of plans, of kayak frames, old kayaks and replicas. Never before having made anything myself, it was a revelation to me to see what someone could do with wood and canvas. I pondered, and thought of the construction of a Feathercraft. I looked at a diagram of cross-sections of a beautiful South Greenland kayak, and had an idea... If I made a plywood cross-rib for every section on the diagram, and connected them with gunwales, chines and a keelson, I would have a kayak frame. It would be nothing like the original frame except in shape, but covered with canvas the external appearance would be similar. The original being only 17" wide and, being a novice paddler, I decided to increase the beam measurements hoping to end up with a stable boat. I set to work.
The result, to my initial amazement, really did look like a kayak. I covered it in canvas, which I painted with oil-paint and linseed oil. Even more amazement followed: it floated. It tracked quite well, but was easy to turn. Unfortunately I had put the cockpit slightly too far forward, but the main problem was that it was much too wide, at 24". There really isn't any contact between paddler and the gunwales or deck, which doesn't give much feeling of control. But it was a start, and I decided to plan the next project.
This time I wanted to build using traditional methods. I decided to follow "Instruction in Kayak Building" by H.C. Petersen. I emailed the bookshop Ataguat, in Nuuk, Greenland, and ordered online. The book arrived 6 days later(!). I read it several times, and started to collect materials. The old Greenlandic method of building kayaks used driftwood, sinew, baleen and sealskin. Modern builders commonly use prepared timber, nylon cord and canvas. Recently nylon and polyester material is being used instead of canvas. The length of the kayak, and even more especially the width, are dictated by the size of the paddler. The result is a tight fit, with the ball of the foot on the footrest, the knees under the curved deck beam in front of the cockpit, and the back touching the deck beam at the back of the cockpit.
The book takes you step by step through the process of building. The deck is the strongest part, and is the starting point onto which the rest of the boat is assembled. The Gunwales are prepared first, with mortices cut just below their upper edges into which the tenons of the deck beams fit. The Deck is assembled, and the tenons are pegged in the mortices. Where the ends of the gunwales meet they are pegged together and the frame so locked. The deck beams are also lashed to the guwales using nylon cord. The stem and stern posts are then lashed onto the respective ends of the gunwales. Mortices are cut in the bottom edges of the gunwales, to accept the ribs.
I decided to use green willow branches for the ribs. These were easy to find locally, and quite easy to bend, trim and fit, without having to learn how to steam-bend wood. So, in this case, the rib mortices were simply holes drilled in the lower edges of the gunwales. The keelson was tied to the stem and stern posts, temporarily in place, so I could use it as a guide when fitting the ribs. Judging the line of the keelson was very tricky, and this is where the book becomes less detailed. It states that, in Greenland, the average depth at the back of the cockpit from the top of the gunwales to the keelson is 15-20cm. I took the upper estimate. But the line towards the stem and stern is not really discussed. So I just looked, thought, wondered and guessed. I think that the stern of my kayak has a bit too much volume compared to the stem, and I will probably reduce it one day. To do that I will have to re-skin the whole thing, which the Inuit had to do at least annually... maybe next year.
Once I had some of the ribs fitted I removed the keelson again, and used a short batten to judge the shape of each new rib. Several times I had to remove some of them when the lines didn't look right, and try again. Many of the ribs snapped. As I worked I found I could recognize the willow branches that were going to snap, and was more successful choosing the good ones. "Ribbing" is a very satisfying process, because it transforms the mainly flat deck into a 3D kayak. Suddenly there's a leap forward in progress, or the sense of one at least. The ribs are pegged in place. Once the canvas skin is sewn on they can't move anyway, but it makes the whole frame more stable and easier to handle.
Now the keelson was fixed into place, pegged to the stem and stern posts. Any sharp edges and peg ends were smoothed, trimmed and sanded until the frame had nothing inside that might snag a dry bag or the paddler, and nothing outside that could abrade against the skin. The keelson was then lashed to the ribs using braided nylon cord. Starting at the stem, a single cord was used to loop around each rib and through small holes drilled in the keelson, working along to the stern. The chine bars were simply lashed to the ribs.
I added re-inforcing deck bars to the deck just in front of and behind the cockpit, and sanded the whole frame again. I painted it with linseed oil and turpentine (2:1) twice, and started to think more about the skin. I decided to use canvas and, instead of painting it with bright oil paint, to use linseed oil, turpentine and beeswax mixture to waterproof it. But first I had to make the coaming. I had some very dry pieces of ash, about 1cm x 4cm, set aside for this. I soaked them (in the garden pond) for about 10 days before making the coaming. From my experiments with the first boat I didn't really expect problems, but this time the coaming was very much smaller, and the curve much tighter. I used boiling water and gloves, and gradually bent the heated wood. The first two attempts failed, cracking where the wood grain ran out on the surface. But the third was a success. I pegged the free ends of the coaming hoop together, and left it to dry.
Sewing the skin was daunting, because once started it really needs to be finished without too many pauses. I bought 20 feet x 5 feet of plain cotton calico from the local fabric shop. I chose the heaviest they had. I folded it in half lengthways and pencil-marked the midline. With the finished frame lying upside-down on supports I draped the fabric over it, aligning the keelson with the pencil line. I folded the fabric under the frame so it met at the midline on the deck. I trimmed off the excess material and then I was ready to start sewing. I had read of a variety of stitch types that could be used, but in the end I decided to use a pattern I had used before... in my work as a vet. The "suture" in question is used to close internal organs, without leaks! This seemed very appropriate. It also results in a seam which is quite flat on the top surface of the deck of the kayak, which looks neat. I started by sewing a short pocket, big enough to fit my thumb into, at one end of the evolving kayak skin. This I hooked onto the stem of the frame. With the frame still upside-down I then stretched the canvas as tight as possible along the length of the frame, and clamped it very firmly to the stern. I turned the frame over, and sewed the "skin" together over the tip of the stern.
To tension the skin from side to side over the frame I used strong nylon cord in a zig-zag stitch from one side of the deck to the other, starting at the cockpit and working towards the ends. With helpers pulling the edges of the canvas together over the deck, the zig-zag stitch was tightened many times, until the skin was completely taut. The centre seam was then sewn, leaving the cockpit open. The coaming rests on an "extra" curved deck beam (Masik) in front and the deckbeam at the back of the cockpit opening. The skin is stretched upwards through the inside of the coaming, and stitched to it through fine holes which are pre-drilled in the hoop. And all that is left is to waterproof the skin.
I painted the skin with linseed oil/turpentine (2:1), and allowed it to cure (in about a week). Then I coated it with a warmed mix of linseed oil 500ml /turpentine 250ml /beeswax 150g. To this mix I added a handful of burnt umber pigment, to give the skin a more leathery look. The result was completely watertight, although I have applied extra wax/oil mix to vulnerable places like the seams on the deck.
I made a canvas spray skirt and took the kayak out for the first time in Folkestone harbour. I used a foam roll-mat to cushion the seat, and extending forward under my legs and feet. It also protects the frame and skin from sand and mud, which might otherwise get between the frame and the skin and cause wear. At first I thought I wouldn't be able to get into the cockpit; it was Extremely Tight. Eventually, with a lot of squeezing, I was in... leaving me even more worried about getting out again, particularly in a capsize. I was very cautious, and had help at hand. The kayak is certainly tippy, and the very short "ocean" cockpit and tight fit made getting launched quite "unsteady". Using the wooden greenland paddle as an outrigger by slipping one end under the deck lines has made things much better, and I can get in and out unassisted. The cockpit is quite narrow, and fits me very snugly. Once moving, the kayak feels much more stable and I found it more stable as I edged it (very cautiously).
The next outing was longer, about 10km in the Swale estuary. I got more of a chance to try the new boat, with some side winds and small waves. The waves were really no problem, but weathercocking was quite noticeable even in fairly light wind. However, even with my limited skills I found I could edge the kayak onto the chine to correct the tendency. The only real problem was the uncomfortable seat, which I still have to work on. In particular I found my feet getting numb. I hope to improve this by putting more padding under my legs, but I need to experiment to see what works. I have also shaped the backrest deckbeam into more of a curve for my back.
On the next trip, also on the Swale, I tried out my newly made Greenland paddling suit (Tuilik: too-ee-lick). I took the pattern from another greenlandic book, and made one from lighter canvas. It is basically a loose-fitting, long-sleeved, hooded paddling jacket. The hood has a draw-string that seals around the face, and the cuffs have leather fasteners. The hem fits around the cockpit coaming, and has a bungee cord which can be tightened. I have to admit, I look ridiculous in it. But it was actually very comfortable. I even risked a roll, my first in the new kayak. There was slight seepage around the face and one wrist, but otherwise I stayed dry.
(phew just one more paragraph to go!!!): JB
I feel that until I'm more comfortable in the kayak on trips I will not have finished the project, although I'm not sure I ever will "finish" it. Already I'm starting to think of improvements I'll make to the frame if and when I re-skin it. And I think I might use polyester fabric next time... And then there's the next kayak to dream about.