A restoration project to save a boat from becoming book cases

Ed Maurer, Publisher, Dunedin, Florida

I had my E.M. White style canoe built just before I left Caribou, Maine in 1993 by an old fellow in Houlton, just a short drive south. He had been building boats on a couple of old White strongbacks since coming home from WW2. This boat, a 16-footer, was built of white cedar with a fiberglass covering instead of canvas. The ‘glass made it pretty resilient to bangs and bumps, but caused the wood to rot prematurely due to never being able to dry out completely here on the Florida coast. Since I used the boat once or twice a week, it stayed sodden for much of the time. The sailing rig, I’m convinced, also contributed to the damage by imparting torque to the hull and opening seams. All in all, the boat was doomed to become a project before its time. But that’s okay—I like projects.

Some have suggested I strip the ‘glass from the hull, replace strakes, etc., and then recover using canvas. Others, still, have suggested I just buy new. Both are valid ideas, to a point, but not when one considers the boat new cost me less than $1,000 and is not worth another grand in labor, or being replaced by a boat that cost three of four times what this one did.

The photos show the damage from wear and tear and wood spoilage the boat has endured. When wood is covered only on one side by a material that traps and retains water, rot is inevitable. This is seen in the bow and on certain wood pieces that were of lesser quality than others. Exterior damage is most notable at the bow where it first encountered shellbars, beaches and other obstructions and the stern where it rubbed over sandbars. All in all—the boat has caught hell. But it was made to be used hard, not babied.

The first task in any restoration is to survey the boat to determine whether a resto will be viable and within budget. I carefully checked the damage and was satisfied I could make needed repairs using modern materials—“better living through chemicals,” if you will. Next came a thorough cleaning.

Imagine a canoe to be much like a mouth, full of teeth that need cleaning and repair. In this case—it’s a 16-foot-wide mouth, and there’s a lot of dirty teeth! Like many of you, I have cleaned and scraped and cursed every space between every rib, and swore to find a better way “if there’s a next time,” which there invariably is. Old, weak varnish must come off before anything happens; you certainly can’t put good over bad.

One way to remove bad varnish is to use various chemical strippers. There are many, but I’ve found the “natural” ones derived from plant products, such as those employing citrus, do a good job while not causing environmental or health problems. In any event, if they remove paint, consider them still somewhat hazardous and take reasonable precautions as listed on the containers.

I figured the first step in varnish removal would be to physically remove as much of the loose stuff as possible. I’ve done this before by scraping each piece of wood—each tooth and space between in this 16-foot mouth—with scrapers and chisels. No, a better way had to be found. My first thought was sand or media blasting, but that would cause too much damage to already bad wood, would cost too much, and would leave a lot of media (even if it’s only walnut shells) to be cleaned up and disposed of. Hmmm…what media could be applied under pressure, lessen the damage, and not require cleanup?

How about a water jet?