Photographer: McKibben Jackinsky, Homer News
Ron and Marie Bader's cedar canoe rests upon a "river" of crushed oyster shells.
|
Boats in yards? Not uncommon in seaside communities.
They could be stored until the weather is right or fish are running. They could be awaiting repair. They could be loved so much the owners can't bear to be rid of them.
Such is the case with Ron and Marie Bader's "cedar canoe," as it is affectionately known. Built in 1959, the 14-foot craft's cedar skeleton has come to rest in the couple's Bay Avenue yard.
"I just didn't have the heart to burn it or smash it or run over it," said Ron, who made the vessel as an industrial arts project when he was attending Central Michigan University.
In 1954, two years out of high school, Ron "found" Anchorage.
"I was looking for a place to move to, to raise a family," he said of narrowing down his options to Seattle, Wash., and Calgary, Alberta, Canada. "Anchorage won."
Returning to Michigan, he launched a back-to-Alaska plan. For starters, while Michigan high school graduates in the 1950s frequently faced a future working for General Motors, Ron realized "if I was going to live in Anchorage, I had to have something to offer." He continued his education and, in the course studying at Central Michigan University, built the canoe.
"I needed a lightweight craft, something I could carry myself," he said of the cedar frame he covered with canvas.
Brass screws used to hold the frame together nearly equaled a month's wages at the time, but Ron invested his finances and his energy in an effort to build a boat that would last. The 50-pound boat was christened on Michigan waters and used particularly on the Au Sable River, a tributary to Lake Huron and a trout-fishing stream.
"Then, of course, I brought it to Alaska and I had to have a motor on it, so I put a square stern on it," Ron said of design changes made when he moved north, settling into a 25-year teaching career inAnchorage.
The canoe provided transportation for fishing and hunting excursions on the 20 Mile River near Portage. The glacier-fed river once capsized the craft, sending Ron, his hunting partner, their backpacks and rifles into the silt-laden water. A similar incident, excluding capsizing, occurred during a sudden storm on Hidden Lake. On Kenai Lake, Ron discovered the hull's vulnerability. when ice sliced through the canvas.
Costly at the time, the original brass screws continue to hold the cedar canoe's frame together after more than 50 years.
|
In the 1970s, Marie joined the picture and in the late 1980s, the couple bought property on the south side of Kachemak Bay. The couple now have a home in Homer and, since 1993, have operate Moss Island Oyster Farm.
Although Marie's relationship with the canoe doesn't go back as far as Ron's, it is solid enough to appreciate the vessel.
"At one time, we thought it should go into a restaurant, but (Ron) didn't have the heart to distance himself that much," she said.
Suspending it from a ceiling was considered, but the appropriate ceiling couldn't be found. Then Marie found the perfect place: the yard of the couple's Bay Avenue home, surrounded by crushed oyster shells.
"I wanted to make the old boat feel comfortable, like it was still in a river," said Marie. "It may be a river of oyster shells, but it's still a river."