A new Whitehall

Famed American oar and paddle makers Shaw & Tenney are celebrating 150 years in business by creating the first boat they have ever sold - a beautiful Whitehall skiff.
The firm was founded in Orono, Maine in 1858 and has been making wood oars and paddles with their trademark burned-in name on the blade ever since. But this is their first boat.

The hull is nearly 18ft long with a beam of only 3ft 8in, so she should go lickertispit especially with a pair of long oars in the rather stylish folding outrigger rowlocks.
It looks fab, with lots of varnish and brass, but it is definitely a what-the-hell-I-deserve-it purchase: the 'fancy rowing boat' version pictured is listed at $19,000. The vanilla version will cost $14,000, plus sliding seat option, sailing rig option and trailer option. And UK buyers will have to add import tax, VAT and shipping.....

St Ayles Skiff is officially launched

The St Ayles Skiff has been officially launched at Anstruther, where the harbour was sunny and still yesterday, as it was down here in the South. Methil Sea Cadets took her out again (above), with builder Alec Jordan in the bow.
Chris Perkins came over from Scotland's left coast to take the pictures (he is a rather good snapper) and the designer, Iain Oughtred, put hand to oar (at number 3, below) and was, says Alec, very pleased with how it came out.

Several groups who have ordered or are interested in kits for the St Ayles Skiff also came along, including one of the groups from Portobello, in Edinburgh, pictured below. Two international orders, from Germany and the Netherlands, are already in the pipeline, showing how fast the idea has spread.

The only substantial modification being considered is a wider spacing between the thwarts to reduce the amount of oar-handle-banging-person-in-front-syndrome (I'm sure the Germans have a word for this). Alec says the length of the boat will not be increased because at least two strakes would need to have three scarfs instead of two as a result, which would violate the 'keep it simple' principle. Still, speaking as a larger than average rower, more leg room is always better, I feel.

From Dell Quay to Bosham

A grey day but flat calm and great for rowing. At Dell Quay I met with two friends who designed and built their own boats, Max Taylor brought Gato Negro, his 15ft 4in skiff, and Chris Waite brought Octavia.

We rowed up to Fishbourne Mill and down again to Itchenor, where got out for a leg-stretch and bum-unclench.
Then on to Bosham where we turned at the jetty just before the village.

For an alternative account of this event, see Max's Bursledon Blog.

Finnish church boats

Church boats are still raced extremely aggressively all over Finland. The big event these days is the regatta at Sulkava, where up to 10,000 rowers converge to thunder over a 60km course round an island.
The boats are still made of wood, but are not as aesthetically attractive as the traditional church boats. They use plywood, for a start, and the gunwales are parallel all down the centre section so the rowing positions are all the same, which forces a nasty kink in the sheerline. The oars are not things of beauty either, usually hatchet shaped but in wood to comply with the rules.
Oddly, despite the insistence on traditional Finnish design features, sliding seats are allowed.
But taking part in a long race with a crew of 14 plus cox and 10,000 other people must be an incredible experience. Next year, the organisers are inviting crews from round the world to participate - for details of the World Masters Race in Sulkava on July 11, 2010, download the brochure.
The picture is from Villoks' Flickr photostream.

Finnish church boats

In the old days, farmers in remote areas of Finland had to row to get to church. Communities would get together to build a boat, each person contributing either money or work to hire a boatbuilder, fell a load of spruce, pine and larch and get the boat together in the spring for use in the summer.
The average church boat was 12m long with 14 rowers, but some were monsters and carried 40 rowers.
On the return trip, boats would race, a tradition still carried on today. Mind you, I have read that the women would row on the way back, because the men would be too drunk to swing an oar.
This picture of an old Finnish church boat at Lappajarvi comes from Barbara Yarusso's Flickr photostream.
There is an excellent history of church boats here.

St Ayles skiff trial

The prototype St Ayles Skiff hit the water for the first time on Saturday, at Methil No3 Dock in Fife. She was lowered in by crane, but builder Alec Jordan (who sent the pics) says he can lift the end of the boat by himself without a problem so it should not be difficult for a crew to carry the boat to the water.

Rowers from Methil Sea Cadets and from various interested parties took her round the dock.
"She rowed like a bloody dream," Alec said. She looks a dream too - another classic from Iain Oughtred.
The official launch is next Saturday at the Scottish Fisheries Museum at Anstruther - there may be a chance to try her out for yourself at the event. Email Alec for details.

Committee boat: (from bow) Topher Dawson of the Ullapool syndicate that has already ordered a Skiff, Tam Christie from E Wemyss who has helped build the boat, Alec Jordan (and his flat cap), and Robbie Wightman, Steering Group Secretary; David Aitken of Methil SCC coxing.

Up the Arun

Today I rowed up the River Arun with Chris Waite, he in his self-designed and self-built skiff Octavia and me rather apologetically in my boughten skiff Snarleyow. Mind, I have done so much work on her over the years she feels self-built. Today I took out for the first time a pair of blades that I had taken back to the bare wood, glued where it had split and repainted. They looked very good but I suspect the paint is not as good as the price would have indicated.
I have rowed up the Arun from Littlehampton to Arundel before, but never beyond Arundel. The town seems to have turned its back on the river, and there are no easy places to launch.
Chris Waite took me to a point just south of the town where we could slide our boats down a rather alarmingly steep bank and into the water. There was a flat space just wide enough to plant a boot next to the water, so getting in the boat was a bit iffy, but I managed it without falling in (this time).

We rowed gently upstream, swept up by the tide. The picture above shows Chris shooting the rather narrow bridge at Arundel stern-first, so he could see where he was going.

The river north of Arundel is lovely, in contrast to the dull line of flood defences to the south. The banks are reedy, and tree-lined hills sweep down to the river.

At the Black Rabbit pub, Chris asked the punters sitting on the bank for some butter to anoint his rowlocks.
We turned at the bridge at Amberley, where Chris met a friend of his who lives on a cabin cruiser. They park it at Amberley for the summer and retreat to the marina at Littlehampton for the winter, to avoid the floods.

We had miscalculated the tides, so instead of hitting Amberley Bridge at the top and being lazily swept back down on the ebb, we had to fight our way back against both tide and wind. Good exercise, but we were back later than we expected after our round trip of about 12 miles. The sun was sinking on the horizon when we got back to Arundel Castle, owned by the same family since 1138.
We took the boats out on the new pontoon just below Arundel Bridge just after five, and the bloke who runs it came out to admire the boats and say he was not going to charge us. What a nice guy.

The scandalous lack of any place to launch a boat in Arundel may be supplied soon. The Duke may be making a site for a slipway available close to the castle car park. If it comes to pass, it will be absolutely wonderful to be able to row this lovely river without risking an involuntary bath.