BUILDING THE BOAT.
November 1, 1903.--We had settled that the scow was not strong enough
for the river voyage, and she kindly confirmed this view by quietly
sinking as she was moored in the creek. There was no accident--the
timbers separated from decay. We were awaked by the sound of water
running as if poured from a very large pitcher; jumped up, ran to the
stern of the boat, and saw that the rudder, which was usually six inches
above water, was then below it. We awoke the family and hastily removed
the articles in the outer end of the boat to the end resting on shore,
and summoned the boys. It was just getting towards dawn. By the time
this was done the lower end of the cabin floor was covered with water.
Had this happened while we were in the river the consequences would have
been serious.
* * * * *
Jim's father, Frank Wood, went to Peoria and selected materials for the
new scow. The sides are technically termed gunwales--"gunnels"--and
should be of solid three-inch plank. But we found it might take six
months to get three-inch plank forty feet long, so we had to splice. He
got eight plank, 22 to 24 feet long. Two of these were spliced in the
center for the lower strake, and one long one placed in the center
above, with half a length at each end. This prevented both splices
coming together. The plank were sawed in a Z shape. Holes were then
bored through both plank at intervals of four feet, and half-inch iron
braces driven through and screwed firmly together. The ends were then
sawn for the sloping projections.
Through the middle, from end to end, was set a six-by-six timber, and on
each side midway between this and the gunwales ran a three-by-six. Then
the two-inch plank were nailed firmly to the gunwales and intermediate
braces, each with twenty-three 60- and 40-penny nails. We find a strong
prejudice against wire nails, these fishers and boatbuilders preferring
the old-fashioned square nails when they can get them. They say the wire
is more apt to rust; but this may be simply the conservatism that always
meets an innovation. The cheapness of the wire is an item.
The plank were placed as closely together as possible. Here a difficulty
arose, as they were warped, so that when one end was laid close, the
other was an inch from its fellow. But this did not bother our men. They
put a triangular block up to the refractory end, nailed it firmly to the
beam underneath, and drove wedges between till the crooked plank was
forced as nearly straight as possible--or as prudent, for too great a
strain would be followed by warping.
When all the planks were nailed on, two coats of tar and rosin were
applied, and next day the boat was turned over. It was brought down till
one side was in two feet of water, then the upper side was hoisted by
blocks and tackles applied on upright timbers, till nearly upright, when
the men pushed it over with big poles. She had first been braced
carefully with an eight-by-eight across the middle, and by a number of
other timbers. The eight-by-eight was broken and the middle of the boat
forced up six inches by the shock, requiring the services of a jack to
press it down to its place.
What fine workers these men are, and how silently they work, keeping at
the big spikes hour after hour, driving every one with thought and care,
and yet wasting no time. What use they make of a few simple mechanical
aids--the lever, the wheel and screw, the jack, buck, etc.; and they
constantly use the square before sawing. Americans, every one of them;
and not a drop of beer or whisky seen about the work, from first to
last.
The seams in the gunwales were caulked with hemp and payed with white
lead, before the boat was turned. Then they went over the inside and
wherever a trickle of water appeared they stuffed in cotton.
The scow is 40 feet long and 16 feet wide. Over the gunwales were laid
four-by-fours, 18 feet long, and spiked down. Then supports were placed
under these and toenailed to the three inner braces, and to the
four-by-fours. A two-foot projection was made at each end, making the
floor 44 feet long. The flooring is of Georgia pine, tongued and
grooved.
The lumber cost, including freight from Peoria to Henry, about $100; the
work about fifty more. There were over 100 pounds of nails used, 50
pounds of white lead in filling cracks, and several hundred pounds of
tar on the bottom.
The gunwales are of Oregon fir, straight and knotless. It would not add
to the strength to have them of oak, as they are amply able to withstand
any strain that can possibly be put on them in navigating even the
greatest of rivers. Oak would, however, add largely to the weight, and
if we were pounding upon a snag this would add to the danger. As it was,
we many times had this experience, and felt the comfort of knowing that
a sound, well-braced, nailed and in every way secure hull was under us.
The planking was of white pine, the four-by-fours on which the deck
rested of Georgia pine. The cabin was of light wood, Oregon fir. When
completed the hull formed a strong box, secure against any damage that
could befall her. We cannot now conjure up any accident that could have
injured her so as to endanger her crew. Were we to build another boat
she should be like this one, but if larger we would have water-tight
compartments stretching across her, so that even if a plank were to be
torn off the bottom she would still be safe. And we would go down to
Henry to have "Abe" De Haas and "Frank" Wood and "Jack" Hurt build her.
Some leakage continued for some weeks, till the seams had swelled
completely shut, and she did not leak a drop during the whole of the
cruise.
* * * * *
During this time we continued to live in the cabin, the deck sloping so
that it was difficult to walk without support. When the cabin was being
moved we availed ourselves of Mrs. Wood's courtesy and slept in her
house one night. After the cabin had been moved off we took the old scow
apart, and a terrible scene of rottenness was revealed. The men who saw
it, fishermen and boatbuilders, said it was a case for the grand jury,
that any man should send a family of women and little children afloat on
such a boat. There was no sign of an accident. The water had receded,
leaving the shore end of the scow resting on the mud. This let down the
stern a little. The new side was constructed of two-by-fours laid on
their sides, one above the other, and to the ends were nailed the plank
forming the bow and stern. Of these the wood was so rotten that the
long sixty-penny spikes pulled out, leaving a triangular opening, the
broad end up. As the stern of the boat sank the water ran in through a
wider orifice and filled up the hull more and more rapidly. The danger
lay in the absolute lack of flotation. New wood would have kept her
afloat even when the hull was full of water, but her timbers were so
completely watersoaked that the stout ropes broke in the attempt to
raise her, even though with no load.
Through the favor of Providence this occurred while we were moored in a
shallow creek. Had it happened while in the deep river nothing could
have saved us from drowning. As it was, we lost a good deal of canned
goods and jelly, soap, flour, and other stores. But the most serious
harm was that we were delayed by the necessity of building a new boat,
so that we were caught in the November storms, and the exposure brought
back the invalid's asthma; so that the main object of the trip was
practically lost. We are thus particular to specify the nature of the
trouble, as the vendor of the boat has claimed that the accident was due
to the inexperience of our crew. That this was a mistake must be
evident to even an inexperienced sailor, who reads this account.
The old house on the sunken scow was cut loose and moved over onto the
new one, and securely nailed down. An addition 8 feet square was added
at the back for a storeroom, and the roof extended to the ends of the
scow at both ends. This gives us a porch 11 by 18 feet in front, and one
10 by 8 behind. These are roofed with beaded siding and covered with the
canvas we got for an awning, which we have decided we do not need. This
is to be heavily painted as soon as we have time.
The entire cost of the new boat, the additional room and roofs, labor
and materials, was about $250; the old boat cost $200, but the cabin
that we moved onto the new hull could not have been built and painted
for that, so that there was no money loss on the purchase. The launch,
with its engine, cost $365, so that the entire outfit stood us at $830,
including $15 for a fine gunning skiff Jim got at Henry. The furniture
is not included, as we took little but cast-offs; nor the outfit of
fishing and sporting goods.
We must stop here to say a word as to the good people at Henry. Frank
Wood and his family opened their house to us and furnished us milk and
other supplies, for which we could not induce them to accept pay.
Members of the Swan Lake Club placed at our disposal the conveniences of
their club house. During the time our boat was building our goods lay
out under a tree with no protection, not even a dog, and not a thing was
touched. These fishermen surely are of a race to be perpetuated. Mr.
Grazier also allowed us to use his ferryboat while endeavoring to raise
the sunken boat and to store goods, and Mrs. Hurt offered to accommodate
part of our family on her houseboat while our cabin was being moved to
the new scow.