On July 1 in drizzle and fog, 25 people congre-gated around the ferry wharf and nearby shoreline on Matinicus Island to watch and celebrate the launching of an eleven-and-a-half foot skiff. That morning, the skiff had been carried out of the Matinicus powerhouse, the only place warm enough to dry the paint in the drippy weather, and brought to the launching place known anachronistically as “The Store Beach.” As people gathered with cameras, 13-year olds Meara Cafferata and Emily Murray poured a bit of bubbly over her oiled bow, and she was shoved into Matinicus harbor to a round of applause.
The little boat was the result of two weeks labor by ten young people and their instructor, Kenneth Kortemeier of The Carpenter’s Boatshop in Pemaquid. The first annual Matinicus Island summer boat building workshop had been a huge success.
Conceived last summer as a wild idea, and discussed with enthusiasm all winter, the plan was to involve the group of younger teenagers who congregate on the island after school gets out — the handful of 11 through 15-year-olds who swim in the harbor, socialize and idle together all summer. The workshop would provide an opportunity for interested young islanders to learn some new skills, experience the satisfaction of a job well done and a beautiful finished product, and also get a taste of the history and local tradition of boat building.
“There used to be boats built here all the time,” said Suzanne Rankin, the island’s historian. “Those kids might not realize it, but they are participating in a piece of Matinicus history. This is the first boat built here in years. I think it’s great!”
Throughout the two weeks, the participants spent two-hour shifts in groups of three at a time learning their way around planes and chisels, Yankee screwdrivers and other hand tools. At one point, when the students needed to bend strips of wood, the instructor built a steam box out of lumber from an islander’s shop, a lobster kettle and a propane cooker, with a tank of gas provided by the island’s propane dealer. No power tools were needed. Not being sure what would be available, instructor Kortemeier had prepared a few of the boat’s components that really required power tools before leaving Pemaquid.
The actual boat design wasn’t settled on until this spring. The number of participants, the location of the project, and the level of ability and commitment on the part of the kids were impossible to know ahead of time. Nothing like this workshop had been attempted before, at least in recent years, on the island. “With so much up in the air, I am amazed at how well this went. It went off without a hitch,” commented one of the parents.
Originally, instructor Darin Carlton, also from The Carpenter’s Boatshop, was planning on coming out and leading the project. Carlton was offered an opportunity to take a sailboat to the Azores, a trip he says was “a dream of mine,” so he asked Kenneth Kortemeier to step in, meanwhile making it clear that he would still like to come to Matinicus some time.
Perhaps the only aspects of the organizing that were clear-cut and simple were the enthusiasm of the community for this project, and the financial support. When the idea was first circulated last year among community members and interested others, every single response was one of eagerness and support. When it came time to ask for some financial aid (start-up money for materials, etc.), that was forthcoming as well. The Island Institute, the Maine Sea Coast Mission and Camden National Bank all contributed funds to make this program possible. The workshop was sponsored by the Congregational Church of Matinicus and the brand-new Matinicus Historical Society.
Kortemeier chose to build a Monhegan skiff with these students. “I’ve built that boat a lot of times, and I know what to expect,” said Kortemeier. Along with Kortemeier on Matinicus was his wife, Angela, and one-year-old son Conrad. The students all fell in love with Conrad, whose wide grin made him an irresistible playmate.
When the time came to name the skiff, the students agreed that there was really only one choice, and she was duly christened the CONRAD K. on that rainy morning. One of the students’ parents, Keith Cafferata, made a beautiful mahogany name board for the skiff.
Kortemeier explained that back at the Boatshop in Pemaquid, a few people wondered if building a Monhegan skiff on Matinicus might be a touchy issue. “They assumed there was some sort of rivalry, that maybe we ought to re-name it just the Island skiff or something.” The name of a boat design is not something to mess with, however, and no such rivalry seems to be present. “After all, they build Matinicus peapods in other places,” one islander pointed out.
The Carpenter’s Boatshop has a Matinicus connection though its founder, Rev. Bobby Ives, who served as a Matinicus summer minister during the mid-eighties.
Before this skiff, the last boat built on Matinicus was another skiff built by lobsterman Clayton Philbrook and his eight-year old son Nick, from a set of plans Nick saw in National Fisherman magazine, 16 or 17 years ago. There has been no commercial boat building on Matinicus Island for many decades.
The participating teenagers in this year’s workshop were Christian Ames, David Ames, Devon Stewart, Tyler Bemis, Meara Cafferata, Zach Rankin, Jake Wooster, Emily Murray, Eric Murray and Chris Nason, a cousin of one of the island kids who happened to be visiting for a few days.
The skiff will be sold by sealed bid, with the proceeds going to help with next year’s workshop. Interest in another experience like this has been very high, and quite a few adults have asked about a workshop for them. It looks now like next year’s workshop may be a combined adult-child student group, with perhaps two instructors and two skiffs. Young people and their grandfathers, grown siblings, neighbors and parents will work together, with the adult as much a “learner” as the youngster.
As adults, as we were discussing why this workshop needed to happen, all agreed that ideas like “self-esteem” and “aesthetic sensitivity” and “historic awareness” would be enhanced by this experience. Several of the students have taken to the technical language of wooden boats, now referring to small boat parts by their names, enjoying “cutwater” and “chine” and “breasthook.” No doubt, learning has taken place. In the words of the students who put two weeks of their summer into the project, though, the short answer for why do it?: “It was fun.”