Historic Paddle Reproductions
*Note. The main part of the following text is an article that I wrote for Canoe Journal, and was published in the 2001 issue.

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I love canoe paddles, especially traditional Native
American paddles. I love
them for their diversity, their performance, and their mystery. There are
questions about their design and function that we may never be able to
answer. The traditional paddle makers are long gone, and the lifestyles that
generated these paddles have all but passed out of memory.
How, then, do we come to have any understanding of why traditional paddles
were made the way that they were? I believe that by making reproductions of
these paddles as accurately as possible, we have some hope of appreciating
their qualities. In addition to making and testing reproductions, to begin
to understand the choices behind the designs, we must apply our imagination
and experience to the context and the geography of the region of their
origin. I have made almost 1000 paddles inspired by traditional designs (as of 2005). I am often asked about the differences between the various blades, or questions about the Northwoods grip, for example. I answer as well as I am able, and I see the questioner's face light up as he or she begins to understand. Still, I'm always left with the feeling that there is far more to know about these paddles and their history than I am able to draw on. Follow along as I share a personal journey of discovery into the influences and reasoning behind traditional canoe paddles. In many cultures, tradition plays a significant role in determining the form of tools and decorations. In addition to being identifying traits for a particular group of people, traditions become established because they represent solutions that work well within the context of a particular situation. Given that the conditions of canoe travel remain fairly constant, it is astonishing that so many variants to paddle design evolved. Amongst the many different blade shapes that have been conceived, traditional blades can be loosely categorized as being either straight-sided or round-sided. Surface areas are concentrated near the throat, evenly along the length, or near the tip. Tips are pointed, rounded, or blunt. I began to wonder what, then, are the constants of these traditional designs. Blade length varies, but averages in the 27- to 30-inch range. Width also varies, but blades are rarely wider than 6 inches. Why such a
narrow range of scale?
When I have made paddles with blades longer than 27 inches, which is the
average length of my paddle blades, I have found that they quickly throw the
whole paddle off balance. I like my paddles balanced at the throat, so that
the mass of the shaft and grip equals the mass of the blade. As the blade
gets longer, it has more mass farther away from the fulcrum, resulting in a
blade-heavy paddle. This is tolerable for the short term, but becomes
fatiguing over the long haul. Very long blades are also awkward to use. So,
for the average-length paddle shaft, 30 inches seems to be the maximum
useful length of blade.
Blades must be fully immersed in order to maintain their full efficiency. If
the blade is not fully immersed, then it will pull air in behind it as it
moves through the water. When this happens, the water becomes more
"slippery," allowing the blade to slip backward, with less forward motion
being applied to the canoe. Blades that are short must be made wider in
order to maintain their overall surface area. Short blades are more
difficult to use fully immersed, and when you make the short blade wide,
blades not fully immersed will pull in air to an even greater degree. This
is called Ventilation.
Traditional blades almost universally have long sloping transitions from the
main area of the blade, flowing smoothly into the throat. Making a blade
long with a narrow throat ensures that the paddle is consistently used fully
immersed. Thus ventilation is kept to a minimum, and efficiency is
maximized.
Let's consider the use of paddles under traditional circumstances rather
than todayıs recreational use, which involves only limited periods of time.
Before the advent of roads, rivers and lakes were the highways throughout
much of North America. To get anywhere, travelers would have to paddle their
canoes hour after hour, day after day. A desirable paddle would allow the
paddler to work all day without undue fatigue. A paddle that was too small Almost all of the blades that I make have widths of six inches. If I make them much wider than seven inches, blade flutter starts to become a significant issue. Flutter occurs when the water pressure on the power face of the blade reaches a point at which the flow of the water around the blade is unstable, and it flows off the edges unequally. This causes the blade to flutter, or wobble along its axis. This is why it is important to create a smooth ridge along the center of the paddle blade. It helps to direct the water flow evenly across the blade when the pressure builds up. I have also found that wide paddles resist the rotation required for precise underwater control. As a result, wider paddles feel more sluggish and imprecise in their performance. Certainly, a strong paddler can overpower these conditions, but over time, even the strongest paddlers will become tired and annoyed by this characteristic. That seems to explain why there are similarities in the scale of the blades,
but not why there are so many variations in shape. I found it helpful to
simplify the variety into two main categories: straight-sided and
round-sided.
In those with straight sides the surface area is evenly distributed over the
entire blade. Straight-sided blades are common in areas with consistently
deep water, such as the countless lakes of the Canadian Shield. Here, the
water is deep everywhere, and you rarely have to be concerned about shallow
water.
Round-sided paddles, such as the ubiquitous beavertail, are common mostly
along the East Coast regions of Nova Scotia, New Brunswick, Maine, and so
on. This is a region full of deep lakes and shallow rivers. Paddles such as
the teardrop-shaped beavertail keep much of their surface area located
toward the tip of the paddle. If you paddle through shallow spots, having a
wide tip allows the paddle to remain useful when a narrower one would be
ineffective. There is some speculation that the type and quality of the available
materials also had an influence on paddle design. In Canoe Paddles; A
Complete Guide to Making Your Own, Graham Warren and David Gidmark write, "The availability of tough, durable woods might have encouraged the
paddlemaker to spend more time making an elaborate paddle, whereas the
effort might not have been considered worthwhile with a soft, easily damaged
wood." I remember hearing stories from a friend who had paddled the Hayes
River down to York Factory, in northern Manitoba. Her group was accompanied
by several Cree paddlers from Nelson House, who consistently used their
paddles as rollers to bring their canoes up on shore. At the end of the
portage, they would select pieces of local spruce and quickly shape new
paddles with their axes. Finesse and precision were not high on their
criteria list.
According to Adney and Chapelle, given a choice, paddle makers almost always
chose a hardwood, birch being the traditional favorite, with maple a close
second. These hardwoods were strong and could be worked thin with no loss of
strength. In addition, they had a nice smooth-grain texture that was
pleasing to work with. Itıs no small coincidence, then, that the region
where these species of trees grow is also where the most elaborate paddles
have developed.
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Mi'kmaq (Mic Mac)
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Western Cree "Man's Paddle "
The sample paddle was from northwest of James Bay, figure 124 in Bark Canoes and Skin Boats. I chose this one to represent the straight-sided paddles
that are common in the waters of the Canadian Shield region, and because of
the unique ball-shaped grip. The original paddle may have been maple or
birch, though I suspect it was spruce. I made mine of ash.
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Têtes de Boule
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Passamaquoddy
Two Passamaquoddy paddles documented in 1849, figure 72 in Bark Canoes and Skin Boats. These two paddles, especially the decorated one, have always fascinated me. I have been making paddles based on the decorated Passamaquoddy paddle for about six years now (fifth from top in photo), but have always wanted to do one as close as possible to the original. I wanted to capture some of the original flavor of these unique paddles. The original decorated Passamaquoddy paddle documented in Bark Canoes and Skin Boats was of maple, and the other one is cedar. I made my reproductions of basswood so that I could easily do the detail carving on the grips. Basswood is fast and easy to work with. I would recommend it for beginners who will be working primarily with hand tools. It isnıt very tough, so I would suggest treating it like a softwood for the purposes of paddle making. These were the largest blades that I made. I was surprised that such large blades were as comfortable to use as they were. These blades were large and powerful, and still comfortable after a number of hours of use. Of the two, I prefer the one that is more like a stretched-out beavertail, the one that is decorated. The drawing provided by Adney gave an indication of the type of decoration that was applied to the blade, but was rather skimpy on detail. I thought I would have to be content with this, but then last spring I came across a new book by Graham Warren and David Gidmark, Canoe Paddles: A Complete Guide to Making Your Own (Firefly Books, 2001). On page 20, I spotted a sketch drawn by Liz Reagan of a nearly identical paddle, which she had found in the Peabody Museum. I bought the book for just that one drawing. I did a computer scan of the drawing and printed it up to a scale that filled the paper. An enlarging photocopier would accomplish the same thing. I then drew pencil lines over it, dividing it into four equal lengthwise sections, and eight equal sections along its length. I then copied the drawing onto a sheet of graph paper that had a full-size tracing of the blade, prepared with the same divisions as I had made on the printout. I taped this full-size drawing over the completed paddle blade, and used carbon paper to transfer the design. To complete the design, I painted in the outlines with acrylic paint. After painting, I applied varnish over everything, as the acrylic is not waterproof. The Passamaquoddy are a Malecite group, and the decorated paddle that I chose to reproduce was not uncommon. "Formerly, the Malecite placed his personal mark, or dupskodegun, on the flat of the top of his paddle near the cross-grip. The mark was incised into the wood and the incised line was filled with red or black pigment when available. Sometimes the whole paddle, including the blade, was covered with incised line ornamentation
This was usually a vine-and-leaf pattern or a combination of small triangles and curved lines. The Passamaquoddy used designs suggesting the needlework once seen on fine linens. Sometimes other designs showing animals, camps, or canoes were used." (Adney and Chapelle, p. 80-82).
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After making these paddles, I was particularly struck by the grips. I was
surprised not so much by the sophistication of these grips, as by the near
universality of the solutions.
Most modern grips are made so that the grip hand grasps the paddle along the
top in the way that is so familiar to all of us. Weıve all been told to do
the J-stroke thumb down. This forces us to twist our wrist and forearm
considerably while making the correction.
Regardless of the style of grip used in these traditional paddles, they all
were designed to enable the paddler to hold it so that the forearm is at
right angles to the paddle shaft, much as one would hold a kayak paddle,
except that the thumb is up beside the fingers instead of wrapping around
the shaft.
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This is strange for most contemporary paddlers, yet it is still practiced by proponents of the Northwoods stroke, using the Northwoods grip, also known as the Maine Guide grip. Using these traditional grips, and using the Northwoods stroke, we are encouraged to apply power through torso rotation rather than with our arms alone. This is exactly the sort of body mechanics that we are rediscovering and advocating for todayıs paddlers. In addition, the correction phase of the stroke is accomplished by allowing the wrist to bend through its natural motion. Once the paddle blade is in position for the correction, a simple bend of the wrist rotates the paddle completely. I remember questioning the way in which the pole-grip was used. It seemed to me only logical to hold it in much the same manner that one holds a Northwoods grip. I also recall wondering why the old paddle makers didn't simply elaborate on the pole-grip and add a flat spot to make a broader grip, one that would not only be more comfortable but also give more control. Looking back on the paddles that I made, and at the other documented paddles, it seems to me that that is exactly what they did do. The more elaborate grips that I have made and described appear to be a direct evolution from their pole-grip origins. I believe this to be true, as all of these grips were made so that they would be held along the side rather than across the top. Interestingly, I found that if I took the features of the Têtes de Boule grip and blended them with those of the Passamaquoddy grips, I would end up with pretty much the same grip that today we call the Northwoods grip. There are many sources of inspiration available, including the examples detailed here, the drawings in Bark Canoes and Skin Boats, museum collections, and old drawings and photographs. In particular, Canoe Paddles: A Complete Guide to Making Your Own contains a bounty of useful information for the home paddle maker. I would encourage anybody who has the ability and opportunity to try your hand at making a paddle based on historical examples. I am sure that you will be pleased with the sophistication and performance of these old paddle types.
See more historic paddle photos and documentation