Whether you are refinishing original seats for a Chestnut or Peterborough canoe or making replicas, once the frames are refinished, they need to be woven in the original Chestnut pattern.

It is called a “quick” pattern because it involves a normal six-stage pattern in which only the two diagonal stages are woven.  What makes it a uniquely Chestnut pattern is the fact that both diagonals are woven in the same manner – under the vertical strands and over the horizontals.

Calling the pattern is quick is relative, I suppose.  Now that I’ve done several dozen, it takes me only four to six hours to do each seat.  I do this work in the evening while watching a movie (or three).  I select about 20 lengths of natural strand cane (Chestnut seats use cane that is 3mm wide also referred to as medium cane) and soak it while the movie previews are running on the DVD.

When the movie is ready to start, I wrap the strands in a moist towel and sit down with a pair of scissors (I use Chinese gardening shears), a caning stiletto and about six hardwood pegs (I whittle the pegs from hardwood scraps to create pegs that fit into the 3/16” holes found in Chestnut canoe seats).

Start by weaving strands from the front of the seat frame to the back.  I call these the vertical strands.  When you start, leave about four inches of cane extending at the back of the frame.  The strand is woven across the frame to the opposite hole, down through to the back, over to the next hole in the row and up to start again.  Pegs are used to hold the strand firmly in place until the next pass is completed.  Make sure that the polished side of the cane is facing up.

When you come to the end of a strand, tie it off with a simply half-hitch knot.  Be sure to do this while the cane is still moist.  Otherwise, it will break as you tie it tight.

The second stage of the pattern is another set of vertical strands.  I use my thumbnail to pull the first strand to one side as the second strand is pulled down next to it.  It is not necessary to pull the strands tight.  Everything will work out as you weave later strands.  Just make sure that the second strand does not lie directly on top of the first strand.  Once you are finished and allow the cane to dry, it will tighten on its own.

The third stage runs from one side of the frame to the other.  I call these the horizontal strands.  The third strand is woven in the same manner as the first vertical strand.

The fourth stage is the same as the second stage.  Again, ensure that the strands are set side-by-side.  I can usually do the first four stages of a seat in the first hour of a movie.  The work doesn’t involve any weaving and twists in the cane can be straightened as each strand is drawn tight.  However, from here on in you must take the time to make sure each strand is straight while you weave it.  If you find a twist in the strand, you will usually have to pull it out and begin again.

The fifth stage begins in the top-right corner of the seat frame.  The weaving pattern is always the same – under the vertical strands and over the horizontals.  I start at the top right-hand corner of the frame.  Begin by going under the first set of vertical strands to the left of the corner hole.  Continue weaving until you reach the bottom of the frame.

Weave three or four sets of vertical and horizontal strands.  Then, pull the entire piece of cane through to tighten the strand.  Continue weaving the rest of the strand until you weave under the last set of vertical strands at the bottom of the frame.  At this point, pull the piece of cane through again to tighten the entire strand.  Again, make sure that the strand is straight without any twists.  If there is a twist, pull it out and try again.  Once in place, insert the cane into the hole immediately left of the last set of vertical strands at the bottom of the frame.  Pull the cane through and use a peg to hold it in place.  The peg is moved over to the next hole once the cane is threaded up through it.  The weaving proceeds from bottom to top in the same fashion as before.

At the bottom left-hand corner, two diagonal strands are woven into the corner hole. The first strand is the same as all of the diagonal strands done so far – first under the vertical and then over the horizontal.  As you come back down to the corner hole, you weave under the last vertical strands right of the corner and then go over the vertical strands above the corner before entering the corner hole to complete the second corner strand.  From the left side of the frame, the weaving is done first over the horizontal and then under the vertical.

In the fifth stage, the last strand at the top-left corner is a simple strand across the corner.  The cane is tied off at the back.  The fifth stage is competed by starting with the second strand in the top-right corner and ending with a simple strand across the bottom-right.

The sixth-stage replicates the fifth by weaving under the verticals and over the horizontals.  The only difference is that it starts in the top-left corner.  Along the top and bottom of the frame, the strands in this stage cross over the fifth-stage strands.  Along the sides of the frame, they cross under the fifth-stage strands.

Chestnut seats are finished with border strands that cover the holes in the frame.  These border strands are 3mm wide and are tied into the back of the frame as usual.

The border is held in place with cane that is 2.5mm wide (fine cane).  It is tied into the back, comes up through the hole, over the border strand and back down through the same whole.  This is called couching and is done at every second hole around the border.  This is a simple stage in the weaving process but is very time consuming since the stiletto must be used to open each hole enough to allow the couching cane to be threaded through.

Before installing the newly caned seats, I stain the cane to match the patina of the old wood.  I then apply double boiled linseed oil to the cane before it is shellacked and varnished along with the rest of the canoe.

Without a doubt, the most horrible job in the restoration of a wood-canvas canoe is the process of stripping the old varnish from the interior.  It is messy, stinky, agonizing work that takes forever and cannot be rushed.  Truly, the only positive thing to be said about stripping varnish is that as long as you keep going, the job will end.

However, it is not always necessary to strip the old varnish.  If the interior varnish is in good shape – not peeling, cracked or gone altogether – you can simply clean the interior with TSP (tri-sodium phosphate) and rough up the surface of the varnish with fine steel wool.  After vacuuming the interior and removing any residual dust and débris with a tack cloth, you are ready to apply new varnish.  In my experience, if the varnish is stripped with chemicals, the canvas has to be replaced as well.  As a result, one big job leads to another.  That is why many people opt for simply cleaning the interior and applying new varnish to whatever is still there.

If, as is often the case, the interior varnish is peeling away, breaking apart or gone completely, the varnish has to come off in order to rebuild the interior finish from the ground up.  Sometimes, the varnish is peeling so much that it comes off with a combination of a paint scraper, coarse steel wool and a lot of elbow grease.  I have tried sanders and “sandpaper stripping wheels” powered by a variable-speed drill, but soon gave them up when I saw that I was removing just as much wood as varnish.  When it comes right down to it, the best way to remove all of the old varnish (and still have the original ribs and planking left intact) is to apply chemical strippers. I strip the old varnish before removing the old canvas.  This way, the chemicals tend to stay inside the canoe.  They soak into the old canvas and lift the filler and paint from the canvas, so unless you are extremely careful with the chemicals, you cannot strip the interior varnish without then putting a new canvas on the canoe.

I have heard of some people using a pressure washer to remove the chemicals from the hull once they have done their job.  This would work well as long as the nozzle is wide enough to reduce the pressure to avoid ripping the planking apart.  In his blog, Doug Ingram of Red River Canoes describes his trials and tribulations.  One downside I see to removing the chemicals with a pressure washer is that they end up on the ground and (probably) in the water-table.  At the very least, you succeed in killing all of the grass in that corner of the backyard.

The first step in this job is to be protected from all those nasty chemicals.  The commercial products usually contain dichloromethane (commonly used as a propellant in aerosol cans) and methanol (wood alcohol).  Sometimes toluene (lacquer thinner) rounds out the mix.  Besides long sleeves, long pants and an apron or coveralls, be sure to wear gloves (heavy-duty latex/neoprene), a respirator and eye protection.  Have lots of water close at hand to wash off any stripper that contacts your skin.

It is essential to maintain a wetted surface when using varnish strippers.  It evaporates quickly, so be sure to use lots of this stuff and do the canoe in small sections (I divide the canoe into quarters).  Spread it over the surfaces with a sturdy scrub-brush (natural bristles) and let it sit for a few minutes to do its thing.  When it turns dark brown and becomes thick, you know it is working.

Use a scrub brush and a scraper to remove the stripper.

Any stripper remaining in the canoe can be cleaned out with TSP mixed in a pail of water.  Use a scrub brush, a scraper and/or steel wool to ensure that remaining stripper is removed from all of the nooks and crannies.  Once the hull interior has dried, I go over the wood again with medium or fine steel wool to remove the last of the TSP and/or chemical stripper residue.  A once-over with a vacuum cleaner to remove the dust and steel wool fragments finishes the job.

This takes as long as it takes – no short cuts.  As with almost everything in life, if you don’t do a good job on the foundation work, it just creates problems later on.  As much as I want this job to be over and done with as quickly as possible, there is no way to speed it up.  It takes time to do a thorough job.  Sometimes, it even has to be done twice.

Bob Anderson died on January 1, 2012 at the age of 89.  He was not a movie star, but his work in TV and films is world-famous.  Bob was a sword master, fencing coach, stunt double and fight choreographer.  Some of his fight scenes have generated a cult following – I’m sure many of you can quote lines from the duel between The Man-In-Black and Inigo Montoya in The Princess Bride. However, to me, he was the mentor who took me under his wing, championed my dreams of becoming a sword master and turned them into reality.

I first met Bob at the 1980 Canadian National Fencing Championships in Ottawa, Ontario.  He had just been hired as Technical Director of the Canadian Fencing Association.  Bob Anderson had been a National Coach in Britain for 25 years and was a key figure in their National Coaching Scheme for fencing that introduced the sport to thousands of students across Britain through the use of large group lessons.  That was impressive, but we were buzzing with excitement because we could hardly wait to meet Darth Vader.  Bob had worked in movies and TV as a stunt man and fight director since 1953 when he fenced with Errol Flynn in The Master of Ballantrae.  Bob arrived in Ottawa having just finished filming light-saber duels with Luke Skywalker in The Empire Strikes Back.

Bob came into the gymnasium at Carleton University (the venue for the National Championships) wearing a bright blue winter parka.  It was a little out of place in the beautiful spring day in May but was a topic of conversation with the Star Wars logo featuring prominently.  All of the cast and crew in The Empire Strikes Back wore these jackets while filming in Norway.  Bob certainly knew how to make an entrance.

I introduced myself to Bob and explained that I had just returned from Poland where I was hoping to be accepted to study at the AZS AWF Warszawa (the sport college in Warsaw) to become a Fencing Master.  It had a reputation as one of the best schools in the world having trained several fencing masters that were now working as National Coaches all around the world.  Bob insisted that I train in Canada.  I told him there was no training program for Fencing Masters in Canada.  His response was definite, “Then you will be the first Fencing Master trained in Canada.  I’ll see to it.”

True to his word, Bob helped me apply for and receive a coaching scholarship called the National Team Coaching Apprenticeship Program.  Offered by the Coaching Association of Canada to potential National Team Coaches, the scholarship paid all of my living and traveling expenses for two years while I trained with some of the best Fencing Masters in the world.  Ironically, my primary instructor for the majority of the program was Zbigniew Skrudlik.  He had been the director of the Fencing Master School at the AZS AWF Warszawa and was responsible for developing all of those National Coaches around the world that I had heard so much about.

Bob Anderson supported my dream to become a Fencing Master.  I extend my deepest condolences to his wife Pearl and the rest of the family.  My heart is heavy with the news of his passing.

When you talk to Mike about growing up in Northern Alberta, the stories all revolve around his Dad and their 17’ Chestnut Prospector.  The canoe was the centre of Mike’s young life – especially because his Dad painted “Snoopy” on each side of the bow.  So, when Mike brought the canoe to Kettle River Canoes for restoration, the first question was, “Can you put “Snoopy” back on the canoe?”

Mike’s canoe was typical of the canoes that come into the shop for restoration.  It had been well-used but not abused.

I could find only one broken rib.  At the same time, the planking through the main body of the canoe had seen better days.

The original slat seats suspended about an inch below the gunwales had been replaced with hardwood frames and nylon webbing lowered several inches.  Mike asked me to build new seat frames and weave natural cane in the Chestnut canoe pattern.

The original canvas was rotted to the point where it broke away from the hull under the outwales.  Since the only thing holding the canvas to the hull were a handful of tacks, the canvas simply fell away from the canoe.  The outwales typically are exposed to the elements much more than the rest of the canoe.  They had rotted and would be replaced with exact replicas in white ash.  It is interesting to note that, even in the 1960’s, they had to splice two pieces of ash together with a scarf joint to produce the long lengths required.

The inwales in most canoes are in good condition except for the ends.  Water gets trapped where the inwales come together around the stem-end and creates a warm, moist environment for rot.  Both ends of this canoe would have to be rebuilt.  “Snoopy” was all but completely gone from the original canvas.  I was wondering how I was going to replicate the original design when Mike produced the template drawing his father used.

The interior varnish was still in reasonable condition, so the restoration started by cleaning the interior with TSP (tri-sodium-phosphate).

Next, the ends were disassembled to expose the rotted inwale-ends and stem-end.  I discovered that the original maple decks were also rotted.  New ash was spliced into the original stem and inwales and new decks were made.  I don’t think Mike would mind that the only maple I had was some birds-eye.

New seat frames were made with white ash.  A mortising chisel was used to create the mortises for the frame joints.

Even though there was only one rib to replace, the process takes as long as that required for a half-dozen ribs.  The cedar is cut with tapered ends, soaked for 48 hours and steamed for an hour before it is bent over the outside of the hull at a location where the outside dimension of the new rib is the same as that of the broken rib on the inside of the canoe.  The bent wood dries for 48 hours before it is installed and attached with about 60 brass tacks.

New cedar planking replaced sections that showed the most wear.

Gouges in the original planking (resulting from the removal of original tacks when various broken components were removed) were filled with exterior-grade wood filler.  Then the entire exterior was sanded smooth.

A mixture of boiled linseed oil thinned 50% with turpentine was applied to the exterior of the hull.  The oil was allowed to dry for a couple of weeks before canvas was stretched onto the hull.

For me, it starts to look like a canoe again when the canvas is stretched over the hull and tacked into place.  Then, the filler was applied and allowed to dry for at least four weeks.

Once dry, the filler was sanded smooth with 220-grit sandpaper.  Then the original brass stem-bands were re-installed to protect the canvas seams at ends of the canoe.

It takes more than a week to apply four coats of alkyd enamel paint to the filled canvas and two coats of spar varnish to all of the exposed wood (hull interior, seats, outwales, etc.).

Once the paint is allowed to dry for a few days, it is protected with a coat of carnauba wax.  Then, the new outwales are installed.

The new hand-woven cane seats are hung from the inwales with 6” silicon-bronze 10-24 carriage bolts and new hardwood spacers made from 5/8” dowel.

A Chestnut canoe is incomplete without new decals on the deck and hull.

Of course, the crowning glory on this canoe was an exact replica of the “Snoopy” that Mike’s Dad painted more than 40 years previous.  I pulled out a set of artist brushes and used a 36” piece of dowel to keep my hand steady and away from the canvas.

If the look on Mike’s face was anything to go by, the day he loaded his fully restored canoe back on his car was better than a hundred Christmas days rolled into one.  He had already sent some pictures of the finished canoe to his Dad (now well into his eighties).  Apparently, he was especially impressed with the job I did on “Snoopy”.  My hope is that there is someone around forty years from now to restore the canoe for Mike’s kids and keep “Snoopy” in the family.

For those of you new to this blog and have not heard me on this topic, let me be as clear as I can be: To anyone thinking about applying fiberglass to a wood-canvas canoe, I say, “DON’T DO IT!”  To anyone wanting to remove fiberglass from a wood-canvas canoe, the short answer is: HEAT.

Wood-canvas canoes are a product of a by-gone era; a time before planned obsolescence when things were built with the long term interests of the consumer in mind.  The whole idea of building a canoe with wood and canvas was to have a vessel that lives and breathes.  These canoes are part of the natural environment they work in.  They are held together with tacks and screws – no glue.  The wood flexes and moves with the water around it.  When part of the canoe breaks or rots, it can be repaired or replaced with comparative ease because it is designed to be taken apart.

It has been about forty years since these canoes were the standard in the marketplace.  Not only has the technology of wooden canoe repair faded into obscurity, but the mindset of both manufacturers and consumers has also changed.  Synthetic materials are now generally seen as better – easier, tougher and longer lasting.  The consumer has been convinced that the new materials can improve that which is outdated or at least maintain it quickly and easily.

In the fall of 2002, I was building my business plan for Kettle River Canoes through programs delivered by the local branch of the Community Futures Development Corporation here in British Columbia.  As part of the program, they assigned me a marketing consultant to assist with my plans.  The consultant asked me about the “turn-around time” for the products and services offered by my proposed company.  When I told him that the canvas usually lasts about thirty years (over forty years if well-cared for), I thought his heart was going to stop.  I then explained to him that once a new canvas is stretched onto the canoe and filled, the filler has to dry for a month before the canvas can be painted.  At this point, he just shook his head in disbelief, “That just doesn’t make sense from a business perspective.  Why don’t you just cover the canoe with fiberglass?  You could have the job done in a day.”

When it comes right down to it, wooden canoes and fiberglass just don’t mix.  Since the ribs and planking are held together with tacks, they flex and move naturally.  Over the years, the tacks tend to work loose and eventually have to be either re-clinched or replaced. Conversely, fiberglass resin is rigid.  Once applied, it tends to resist any movement.  The combination of a flexible hull and a rigid outside layer results in cracked or delaminated resin.  The tacks can also wear against the resin from the inside to the point where they come right through the resin.  It can take as little as ten months or as much as ten years.  At some point though, the fiberglass has to come off.  And it is then that the real problem with fiberglass on a wood canoe comes to light.  All of that synthetic resin has to be removed.  It is a long, painstaking process that usually has you cursing the person that put the stuff on in the first place. The moral of the story is: Avoid applying fiberglass to the hull of a wood-canvas canoe.  Learn how to re-canvas the canoe or find a professional to do it for you.

This leads us into the next question: How do you remove fiberglass from a wood-canvas canoe?  All you require is a professional-grade heat-gun, a 2” putty knife, a pair of pliers, safety equipment (work gloves, safety glasses and a respirator mask) and lots of patience.  The first step is to move the canoe into a well ventilated work space – preferably outdoors.  Then start at an edge of the canoe and apply heat to the resin.

At this point it is important to note that fiberglass resins come in two basic types – polyester and epoxy.  Polyester resins were the first to be developed.  If your canoe had fiberglass applied to it in the 1970’s, you can bet that polyester resins were used.  They tend to become brittle and deteriorate rapidly, so if the fiberglass is delaminating it is most likely that you are dealing with a polyester resin.  Fortunately, this makes the removal of the fiberglass relatively quick and easy.  In many cases, the cloth can be ripped off by hand with very little need for heat.  When I say rip, please be gentle.  If you get carried away and pull at the fiberglass cloth too rapidly, you could end up tearing sizeable chunks of planking off the canoe as well (I speak from first-hand experience).

Epoxy resins hit the market in a big way in the 1980’s and are the standard today.  They are applied by first mixing a hardener with a resin in a two-part formula.  What results is a strong, tough plastic that bonds very well to wood.  Unfortunately, this means that the removal process is arduous and painstaking.

As mentioned earlier, start at an edge of the canoe and apply heat to the resin.  If you are dealing with epoxy resin, you will probably have to apply the heat for several minutes before the cloth begins to respond to your attempts to lift it with the putty knife.  At some point, it does let go and the fiberglass cloth can be separated from the canoe.  Then move a few centimeters and continue the process.  Again, polyester resins let go fairly quickly.  You will find that large sheets of cloth come off in fairly short order.  I usually grab the cloth with a pair of pliers rather than with my hand.  Even with work gloves on, the pliers prevent nasty encounters with heat and/or sharp edges of fiberglass (again, this is the voice of experience talking).  If you are dealing with epoxy resin, be prepared to settle into hours of tedious work as the cloth is lifted one square centimeter at a time.  It took me 17 hours to remove the fiberglass cloth from one 16’ Chestnut Pal.  There was a double layer of fiberglass cloth on the bottom of the canoe.

Once you are back to the bare wood, the restoration is like that of any other wood-canvas canoe.  So, enjoy the pleasures of life in the slow lane, stay away from fiberglass and celebrate the fact that you have a wood-canvas canoe.

Many people complement me on the great fiberglass job on my canoes. They are shocked to learn that the canoes are covered with painted canvas.

Once the canoe has been canvassed and the filler has been applied and is ready for the next step, it is time to apply the paint.  Here are five secrets to a professional paint job:

When to Paint – Fifty years ago, the canoe builders in the factories were in production mode.  To save time and space, they installed the outwales before applying varnish and paint.  However, this caused two problems in the years to follow.  First, the canvas under the outwales is not protected with paint.  Second, the inside surface of the outwales is bare, unprotected wood.  Over years of use, water can become trapped under the outwales.  This moist environment can be ideal for growing the fungi we call rot.  Two things can happen: a) the canvas can rot under the outwales causing the canvas to detach from the canoe and; b) the outwales can rot from the inside out.  To avoid these problems, the first secret to painting a canoe is to apply the paint before the outwales are installed.  This completely protects the canvas under the outwales.  Some builders go so far as to apply varnish along the cut edge of canvas before the outwales are installed.  Varnishing the outwales before they are installed ensures that they are completely protected from exposure to water.

Sanding, Sanding and More Sanding – Generally speaking, the more you sand, the smoother the final finish.  Also, the more meticulous you are about sanding, the better the end results.  Before starting to paint the filled canvas, sand the filler with 220-grit sandpaper.  I use a random-orbital sander for this job.

Any tacks in the canoe hull that are not properly set flush to the hull will show up as you sand.  It is essential to stop sanding immediately and re-clinch the tack to avoid creating a nice, round, tack-sized hole in the canvas.

I use 220-grit sandpaper (with a random-orbital sander) between the first and second coats of paint.  I then use 320-grit wet sandpaper (hand sanding) between the second and third coats and, if necessary, between the third and fourth coats of paint.  For varnish, I rough up the surface with extra-fine steel wool.  Before you start applying paint or varnish, be sure to clean the surfaces well.  Remove sanding dust with a brush or vacuum.  Then, clean remaining dust with a tack cloth.

Thinner – Some articles about oil-based paints and varnishes would have you believe that avoiding streaks and bubbles in the final finish is one of life’s great challenges.  In fact, there is no great mystery to it.  Thin the paint (or varnish) about 12% with mineral spirits (paint thinner) before using it.  The thinned paint will self-level once it is applied and dries before sags and drips develop.  For a canoe, any alkyd enamel works well.  Most of these are known as oil-based “rust paint” and provide a tough, flexible finish.

Tip It, Then Leave It – As with any paint, you must maintain a “wet edge” while applying it to a large surface.  Therefore, it is important to work in small sections of the canoe.  Apply the paint quickly and vigorously to get complete coverage.  Don’t worry about streaks or bubbles.  Just make sure the paint covers the area without using too much.  I use a high-quality natural bristle brush to apply the first and second coats.

I use a disposable foam brush to apply the third (and, if necessary, the fourth) coat of paint.  Once you have paint applied to a small section of the canoe, hold the brush at a 45° angle to the surface and lightly touch the brush to the wet surface.  Move the brush quickly over the surface to “tip” the finish.  Do this first vertically from top to bottom and then horizontally.  If you are applying varnish, tip the finish across the grain first and then with the grain.  After the section is painted and tipped in two directions, move to the next section until you have done the entire canoe.  Check to make sure there are no drips – especially at the ends – then go away and leave it alone for 48 hours.

Protect the Finish – Are we done yet?  Well, that depends.  Once I have applied the final coat of paint and allowed it to dry for two days, I protect the finish with carnauba wax (pronounced car-NOO-bah) obtained at the local auto supply shop. Follow the directions and use lots of muscle (or a good buffing wheel).  If you’ve never tried it, waxing the canoe is worth it just for the experience of shooting effortlessly through the water.  It’s like waxing a surfboard – the results are amazing.  Also, the paint is protected from minor scuffs and scratches.  Any oil-based finish takes several months to cure completely, so the wax helps protect it in the early months of use.

Traditional oil-based fillers for canvas canoes have been described here before and most often include silica or white-lead.  They take at least four weeks to dry and many of the ingredients are less than readily available.  Let’s talk about a couple of alternatives that have been used successfully by several canoe restorers.

Latex Lagging Compound

Ever since central heating systems were developed, engineers looked for ways to protect the heated or cooled air from escaping through cracks and seams. One of the products used to seal heating systems is lagging cloth (typically canvas or fiberglass). It is applied over the top of a water-based lagging adhesive such as CHIL-SEAL® CP-50A MV1 or BAKOR® 120-09 in the corners and crevices of the ducts which are susceptible to air leakage.

Wallpaper Smoother

When used as a canoe canvas filler, Dave Lanthier from Kamloops, BC applies it with a 4″ foam roller to about 6’ (1.8 meters) of the canoe at a time.  He then uses a 6″ wallpaper smoother to remove excess coating.  Dave lets it dry and applies two or three more coats the same way.  Once you are satisfied, let it dry and sand lightly with 120-grit sandpaper before paint is applied.  Do not over-sand.  It will take about a week from first filler to the final coat of paint. The final finish may have some orange peel effect but that will disappear as it cures.

Dave learned this technique from Dave Bobbi (Shuswap Canoe Works in Tappen, BC) – who has seen past away – and has used it on his professional canoe restorations for many years.  He says that a 5 gallon (18.9 liter) pail of lagging compound is enough for about eight standard canoes.  The cost works out to about $40CDN per gallon which is about the same as a traditional oil-based filler recipe.  I’ll be trying it out over the next year, so I’ll keep you posted on my results.

Epoxy Sealer

Anyone familiar with cedar-strip/epoxy canoe construction is familiar with the names Ted Moores and Ron Frenette.  They introduced the use of Gluvit Epoxy Sealer as a filler on wood-canvas canoes.  If Gluvit is anything like other epoxy sealers on the market, it cures to a soft, rubbery plastic and fills a broad range of materials effectively.  It is much softer and more flexible than standard epoxy resins used in “stripper” canoe construction.

When used as a canoe canvas filler, Dylan Schoelzel reports that it takes about two weeks before the filled canvas is ready for paint.  He further states: “There is absolutely zero guessing game as to how it will fair. It is eons more stable than oil-based filler. It is rugged, the paint never blisters, never peels, and never cracks. You can fill your canoe up like a bath tub and let it sit for months and you will never experience paint blistering or lifting. This cannot be said for other fillers especially ones that contain lots of linseed oil. Heck wet grass can cause blisters to form on oil-based filler.”

Dylan lists the drawbacks to using epoxy sealer as a canoe canvas filler as follows:

1. It is not cheap. In fact it is quite expensive – 5-6 times that of oil-based filler (and Latex Lagging Compound).
2. It is toxic and labor intensive. The fumes are rather intense but they disappear much quicker than those of oil base fillers.
3. The learning curve for a smooth streak free finish is high, but in reality the learning curve of oil-based filler, in which one knows all the ins and outs, is high too. In fact achieving knowledge about oil base filler, its application, and predictability is perhaps even higher.
4. It also somewhat labor intensive from the time you first start to apply it until that first coat of paint goes on. Not only is the application and sanding more physical than oil-base filler, there is twice the amount of labor involved in terms of man hours.
5. It requires about 4-5 times the amount of sanding compared to that of oil-based filler.
6. During application and curing, it does not like to encounter sub freezing temperatures. Once fully cured, about 2 weeks, and when that first coat of paint has gone on it doesn’t matter what the temperatures are.
7. It’s somewhat finicky about how it gets mixed. If it is not done well, and you apply it to the canvas, forget it. There is nothing you can do short of tearing the canvas off and starting all over again.
8. It is more difficult to patch when torn because of how the canvas reacts to being torn. Under/over patches are doable but not nearly as easy with a canvas that has been filled with oil-based filler. It is nearly impossible to sew the canvas back together if the tear is big enough. It has also been my observation that when the canvas tears due to hitting a rock the tear will be longer on canvas filled with Gluvit and will be shorter with oil-based filler.

Based on Dylan’s comparisons, I am not in any hurry to try epoxy sealer as a canvas filler.  The cost alone does not, to my mind, justify or compensate for the durable results.  By the way, a big “Thank You” to Mike Ormsby for collecting the comments from Dylan Schoelzel.

Recently, a client asked me to restore his two wood-canvas canoes.  They had been well used (32 broken ribs between them) and he plans to use them a lot in the future.  He wanted extra protection for the bottom without installing a traditional “shoe” keel – a strip of ash 2-3/8” (6 cm) wide and 3/8” (1 cm) thick.  He suggested using a panel of Kevlar on the bottom of each canoe.  I agreed to give it a try.

I prepared the canoes in the usual manner with a regular silica- and oil-based filler to waterproof the new canvas coverings.  After the usual four week drying time, I sanded the filler smooth with 220-grit sandpaper.  I cut a panel of Kevlar about 9” (23 cm) wide and made it long enough to cover the stems just past the curve at the ends.  I used West System® Epoxy but there are several other similar products available.

It took the better part of the day to apply three coats of epoxy on the Kevlar.  The first coat saturates the fabric, the second coat fills the weave and the final coat creates a smooth surface.  Between the first and second coats, the Kevlar was cut at the ends and lapped over the stems to make the fabric form to the curve at the stems.

The epoxy binds the Kevlar to the filled canvas but does not soak through the canvas.  This is an important point.  Since the epoxy does not soak through the canvas, it does not glue the canvas to the wooden hull.  As a result, it is still a completely repairable wood-canvas canoe.  The only change is a stiffer and more durable bottom panel.

I was a little wary about sanding the epoxy once it had cured.  I wanted to remove drips of epoxy and smooth out the edges of the Kevlar without damaging the rest of the filled canvas.  I used 80-grit sandpaper and used a light touch.  I opted for a few epoxy drips remaining on the filled canvas rather than running the risk of sanding right through.  The results are not picture perfect and the Kevlar edges are still visible, but the surface is smooth and ready for paint.

After installing the brass stem-bands, four coats of alkyd enamel (thinned 12% with paint thinner) were applied in the usual manner.

I am pleased with the results, as is the client.  He now has canoes that can stand-up to a little more abuse than the traditional covering.  Still, I don’t think the added protection is a license for wanton abuse of the canoe.

At first glance, stretching the canvas onto the canoe appears to be very tricky – and you would be right.  It is a complex process that requires a lot of time and effort just to get set up.  Once completed, you have a skill that you will probably never use again.

Start by checking the hull one last time.  Re-clinch tacks that are raised above the hull as you run your hands over the outside of the canoe.  Any new planking still raised above the rest of the hull is sanded smooth.  Brush the hull and make sure there is no debris left behind to get trapped between the hull and the canvas.

Now, let’s talk about canvas.  I normally use #10 untreated artist canvas weighing 14.5 ounces per square yard.  Canvas 72” wide will work for most canoes.  Large canoes, such as freighters, often require canvas that is 96” wide.  Since I purchase canvas in 100-yard rolls, I have the advantage of being able to set up the roll on a rack.  This allows me to pull the required length directly over the upside-down canoe.  There must be enough canvas to extend about 18” (45 cm) past each end of the canoe.  This means a minimum of 19’ (5.8 meters) of canvas for a 16’ (4.9 meters) canoe.

Secure the canvas to the inwales with spring clamps before turning the canoe right-side-up.  With the canoe sitting in its canvas envelope, make sure the ends of the canvas are even before attaching the canvas clamps and securing them to the wall and the come-along.

With everything in place, remove the cradles and make sure the canoe is sitting squarely in the centre of the canvas envelope.

If you started stretching the canvas now, the canoe would pop right out of the envelope.  To keep it in place, use two-2×4’s as vertical struts wedged between the ceiling and the canoe.  My shop is an old warehouse with thick fir planks in the ceiling.  Other locations would require re-enforcements in the ceiling.  Protect the bottom of the canoe with 2’ (60 cm) lengths of 2×6.  The bottom end of each vertical strut is set up slightly further away from the come-along than the top end.  As tension is applied, the bottom end of each strut is pulled closer to the come-along bringing them closer to plumb.  Another option is to weight down the canoe.  I’ve used a number of 5-gallon pails filled with sand to push the canoe into the envelope as the canvas is stretched lengthwise.

With the canoe pressed firmly into the canvas envelope, crank the come-along a number of times to take up the slack.  Then, make sure that all of the clamps and struts are secure.  The last thing you want is for something to let go under all that tension.  Use a utility knife to cut straight down from the top edge of the canvas in line with the end of the canoe.  Stop about 4” (10 cm) from the sheer-line of the canoe.

Use a large “clothes-pin” to hold the sides of the envelope close together at each end of the canoe.  These clothes-pins can be no more than two lengths of hardwood (2’ x 1” x ½” – 60 cm x 25 mm x 13 mm) clamped together at the top with a C-clamp.  If you want to get serious about it, you can make proper one-piece units reinforced at the top with a ¼” bolt, washers and a wing-nut.

A pair of canvas pliers will be used to stretch the canvas along the sides of the canoe at the sheer-line.  They work best when there is about 3” (8 cm) of canvas extending above the top of the inwales all the way around the canoe.  So, put a new blade in your utility knife and trim the canvas.

In my first attempts, I trimmed the canvas down to about 6” above the sheer line and then carefully trimmed away more canvas as I worked around the canoe with the canvas stretchers.  With over 100 canoes under my belt, I trim it to the desired height by eye in one quick step.  However, don’t cut too close to the top of the inwales.  There must be enough canvas to grab with the pliers, so take your time.  

Once the canvas is trimmed all the way around the canoe, the come-along is cranked until the canvas is stretched tightly around the canoe.  The amount of tension required varies with each canoe.  Tap the canvas at the end closest to the come-along.  When it rings like a tenor drum, start to attach the canvas along the sides.

Starting at the centre of the canoe, pull the canvas tight with canvas pliers.  To do this, rest the jaws of the pliers on the top of the inwale and grab the canvas.  Pull the pliers and hook the large “fulcrum” of the pliers over the inside corner of the inwale.  Rock the pliers to about a 45° angle and secure the canvas at the top of the planking with a 1” (25 mm) brass tack.  For a long time, I used ½” (13 mm) Monel staples and a staple gun.  In my opinion, the tacks do a better job.

Start by securing the canvas at four rib-tops on both sides of the canoe near the centre.  Sags in the canvas between the tacks indicate insufficient lengthwise tension in the canvas. If more tension is required, remove three of the four tacks on one side and crank the come-along a number of “clicks”.  Re-tack the canvas and check to see if the sags are gone.  If not, repeat the process with more “clicks” in the come-along.  There is a “feel” developed in terms of the amount of tension needed for each canoe.  If it is your first time, just keep an eye on the sags between the tacks.  When they disappear, the tension is right.

Once the canvas is sitting tight against the hull between the tacks, attach the canvas at three or four more rib-tops on both sides of the canoe.  Work from the centre towards both ends.  As with most things in a canoe restoration, your first attempts involve a lot of trial-and-error (with an emphasis on error).  It is all part of the learning process.

Once the canvas is attached to every rib-top, release the tension from the come-along and remove the struts.   Support the canoe with the cradles and cut the canvas away from the clamps being sure to leave at least 6” (15 cm) extending past each end of the canoe.

To close the ends of the canvas around each stem, turn the canoe upside-down and raise one end to a comfortable working height.  This is done by supporting it on top of the cradle with a scrap length of 2×4.  Crease the canvas at the centre-line and cut along the crease from the point where the stem turns away from the canvas at the bottom of the canoe.  This creates two flaps of canvas – one on each side.  Each flap is trimmed to leave about 3” (8 cm) of canvas extending past the stem profile.  Again, care must be taken to avoid cutting the canvas too close to the canoe.  There must be enough material to grab with the canvas pliers.

The end of the canvas is closed around the stem by stretching and tacking one flap around the stem, trimming away the excess canvas and then doing the same on the other side.  Start by stretching the canvas at the point where the stem turns up from the bottom.  Lever the pliers along the stem and pull the canvas tight along the centre-line of the canoe.  Secure the canvas to the stem with 3 or 4 tacks spaced about 1” (2.5 cm) apart.  I use short tacks to attach the ends of the canvas to the canoe stem (about 5/8” or 16mm).  Next, move to the stem-top and use the pliers to stretch the canvas flap.  Make sure the canvas along the sheer line is sag-free and secure it along the stem with 3 or 4 tacks spaced about 1” (25 mm) apart. I alternate from top to bottom working towards the middle of the stem until the entire flap is tight and securely fastened.  Now, trim any excess canvas along the open side of the canoe stem.

The second flap is stretched, tacked and trimmed the same way as the first.  As each flap is secured to the stem, check to ensure the canvas is stretched smooth with no sags, creases or puckers.  You may have to fuss a bit with the tension of the canvas along the sheer line near the end of the canoe in order to create a tight fit at the bottom of the stem.  The length of the cut along the centerline of the canvas may also have to be extended ever so slightly to remove any puckers.  All this varies with the shape of the stem profile.  Your canoe may be straight-forward or may require some fussing.  As long as you stretch the canvas well both where the stem curves away from the bottom and at the stem-top, you ought to avoid any major difficulties.

Once both ends are closed and trimmed, support the canoe on top of the both cradles and get out the propane torch.  Before the filler is applied, the canvas knap must be removed.  Knap is the fuzzy balls of cotton extending above the weave.  This fuzz is burned away with a torch.  The only trick here is to keep the torch moving.  I’m not sure if it is absolutely necessary to ensure a smooth surface because I’ve never omitted this step.  You can certainly experiment and see if the finish is rougher without singeing the knap.  Meanwhile, I’ll stick with the traditional methods.

As you work the torch over the canvas, keep an eye open for any thread-ends that may ignite as you pass close to the edges.  Make sure these are extinguished.  Otherwise, the thread will continue to burn like a wick along its full length and cut the canvas in two.  I was able to catch a burning thread before it did irreparable damage.

So, there it is.  Unless a wayward tack has become trapped between the canvas and the canoe, it is ready to be filled.  You will find the learning curve a little steep.  Just remember to breathe and smile. Are we having fun yet?

Dan had grown up with the family’s Chestnut Prospector until his father sold it without a word to anyone.  About twenty years later, paths crossed and Dan was able to buy the same canoe back from the man who bought it from his father.  Now, he wanted his canoe restored to look the way it looked when he was a kid.

Over the years, the canoe had been rebuilt once and re-canvassed twice.  The hull was, for the most part, intact.  However, it had been stored on the floor of a garage for years.  It had rested with the full weight of the canoe on the starboard outwale.  This resulted in an obvious warp in the gunwales on that side.  In addition, there was the inevitable rot in the stem-ends.

The interior varnish was in great shape, so I began with a good stout scrub brush, a bucket and TSP (tri-sodium phosphate) dissolved in water.  This was followed by a thorough rinse to clean the interior.  The next step was to remove the outwales, stem-bands and canvas.  The stem-bands were intact, so they were labeled and set aside to be re-installed near the end of the project.

The only way to return the shape of the gunwales to that of the original was to replace them.  This involves, essentially, taking the entire canoe apart and putting it back together again with new ash inwales and outwales.  Therefore, the first stage of the project involves a massive amount of disassembly.  Before that begins, the location of every plank, deck, seat and thwart must be marked on the canoe.  Then, all of the planks along the sheer-line were removed.  Hundreds of copper tacks were teased out with a tack puller.  Since the stem-ends had to be repaired, the planking and cant-ribs at the ends of the canoe were also removed.  The planks were all labeled and set aside to be re-installed once the repairs were completed.

With the canoe disassembled, the repairs could begin with the rotten stem-ends.  New ash was joined with scarf joints and carved to match the shape of the rest of the stems.

As it happened, my son James, was able to help me in the shop for a few months.  His first task was to remove the thwarts and seats from Dan’s canoe.

James then spent a full week removing the inwales and repairing the rib-tops.  This is usually a fairly straight-forward process.  However, James discovered that in the previous rebuild the rib-tops were attached to the inwales with tiny #4 screws.  More than 200 screws had to be teased out before the rib-tops were solidified with wood hardener and filled with two-part epoxy putty.

I cut new ash to the exact dimensions of the original inwales and handed them to James for installation.  It takes time to get it flush with the rib-tops, pre-drill the wood and secure it with bronze ring-nails.

One of the decks had rotted, so I made a new one and rebuilt both ends of the canoe.  Then, the thwarts could be re-installed.  At this point, James and I stood back to admire the newly reconstituted lines of the canoe.

Next, all of the planking and cant ribs were re-installed.  Some of the planks were either rotten or broken, so they were replaced with new cedar.  Then, gouges in the original planks were filled and the hull was sanded smooth.

We re-installed the original seats and spacers using new bronze carriage bolts.  Then, James stained all of the new wood to match the original.

We took a breath now that the woodwork repairs were completed (except for making new ash outwales) and prepared a mixture of double boiled linseed oil and turpentine which was applied to the exterior of the hull and all of the new wood.  The canoe was stored away to allow the oil to dry while we completed the woodwork repairs on other canoes.

Dan’s canoe was one of three that were canvassed and filled at the same time.  These canoes were then stored while the filler dried (at least four weeks).

While we waited for the canvas filler to dry, we made new ash outwales.  After four weeks of drying, we sanded the filler smooth with 220-grit sand paper and installed the original stem-bands.

Four coats of alkyd enamel paint (thinned 12% with paint thinner) were applied to the filled canvas.  The paint was sanded between each coat.  The interior of the canoe was finished with two coats of spar varnish (thinned 12% with paint thinner).  To avoid unwanted scuffs and scratches to the new paint and varnish, we waited a week before continuing with the final stage of the project.

The canvas was trimmed along the sheer-line in preparation for the new outwales.  They were installed with new bronze screws, trimmed to length and finished at the ends.

We topped off the project by scraping the stem-bands clean of paint and polishing them with extra-fine steel wool.  The decals were applied to the deck and hull.  The final step was a coat of carnauba wax to the painted hull.

Here at Kettle River Canoes, a restoration isn’t complete until the canoe is photographed on the water (usually Christina Lake – 22Km east of Grand Forks, BC).

Then, Dan came to collect his “new” old friend.  I’m sure he and his family will have many new adventures in their classic Chestnut Prospector.  I’m also sure that Dan will not be selling his canoe.