Toledo, Oregon, is one of those places that sort of grow on you. Folks are friendly. And, basic walking directions are pretty simple. All start with, "you just go uphill to". EVERYTHING is uphill from just about any other place in Toledo. A little unusual for a waterfront community. A lot of things about Toledo are unusual.
I went to the Toledo Wooden Boat Show last summer. I simply couldn't wait to come back, again.
The long, hot, mostly-boring drive stretches out to just a smidgen over 500 land miles, for me. This year, my long overland trek was eclipsed by Jim, from the Flathead Lake region in western Montana. Seems like most other exhibitors brought boats and towing rigs from places situated along the I-5 corridor, mostly from Portland on south a ways. Don't matter how far. This is one of those events that gets better with repetition.
A just-plain-folks fellow named Bud is the big kahuna. Bud runs the show with a deft hand and a quick smile. While he literally seems to be everywhere at once, somehow he can stand in one place and gam with the best of us. Bud once ran the veteran yard tug that now glistens with new paint - and nodoubt new timber - that graces the "big boat" row.
I brought little "Punkin Seed" this year, and took up a spot at the far end of the in-water display. As Bud put it, "Down with the other working boats." While I'd admit to throwing on a 30-yard paint job and otherwise giving the notion of a work boat finish a sort of bad name; I'm sure he meant that he expected Punkin Seed to work for her keep. And, that's what we came for.
Toledo is one of those small boat conclaves that is more for the visitor than for the participant. Folks bring boats to display both in the water, and on trailers up in the adjacent parking lot. When you bring a boat, the idea is to talk to visitors about everything from vintage outboard motors to prismatic co-efficients. But, to my mind, the best part is the opportunity to actually get those same visitors out on the water. And, a lot of this "spontaneous" activity is cunningly orchestrated by a small gang of stalwarts. Most of 'em are "COOTS." You are a COOT if you think you should be. This no-dues, no-rules group puts the capital "E" in the word, "Eclectic."
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Sailing Punkin Seed at Toledo after the crowds went home on Saturday night. Bob Larkin photo. |
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Tik Tac 1 |
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Toledo Scamp |
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Not exactly a wooden boat. But, way cool, nonetheless. We had a real live mini-sub this year. |
One of a growing clatch of mini-tugs, Dennis boards his Can-Du-EZ for the trek from launch ramp to show area, a couple miles upstream. |
Case and one of his sons prepare a real “tailgate” feast for the smoker. |
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A gang of COOTS dodge Friday’s rain (it is Oregon, after all) aboard one of the more eclectic designs. |
We had just about half-dozen mini-tugs of various designs. This is one of the smallest Can-Du-EZ’s. |
“Punkin’ Seed” shares a parking lot with somebody else’s idea of a wooden conveyance, in the over-100 degree heat of central Washington. |
Jim “picked me up” on his way from Montana to Toledo, his Mikesboat in tow. |
“Punkin Seed,” and “Desdemona” rigged and ready for the trek across inland desert, Columbia River gorge, and coastal mountains. Next stop, Toledo! |
Shoreside exhibits. The tents to the right are temporary workshops for family boat building efforts. Some beautiful boats popped outa’ there after just two days’ work. |
This year, we had a row of permutations on the iconic Can-Du-Ez tug. There was a Redwing pocket motor cruiser and her slimmed-down near-sister. A completely tricked out Birdwatcher. Myriad small rowing, sailing, and putt-putting boats were strapped in tight along the walkway against the low tide mud banks. Jim's Michalak-designed Mikesboat, "Desdemona" sported a Montana hailing port and lug rig. This in contrast to the majority "OR" hull number scheme painted and stickered port and starboard along the float.
The main mover and shaker is this fellow that everybody "knows," even if you've never actually talked to: Andy Linn. Andy's sly smile and drill instructor demeanor is the first thing visitors-and participants- encounter at the bottom of the ramp. Andy is responsible for many of the small rowing, sailing, and paddling craft tied and stacked around the Toledo Community Boathouse. Pretty much without warning, he'll have you donning a life vest, grabbing a paddle, and sat down in one of his kayaks or canoes. The next obvious step is to untie and shove off. I can't think of anyplace else you can do that without buying a ticket, and waiting in line, first.
In addition to talking to passers by about "Punkin Seed" and taking the braver-than-most volunteers for short demo-sails; I got a plum assignment this year. Plum.
Andy and his small group of volunteer builders put two coracles together over the past Building Season. These little futon-sized sort of hat box things were a real big hit. My job was to entice an age range from toddler to oldfart to step into those tippy, unconventional, round floating contraptions. Once in, then, the real challenge came. Regular paddle strokes are a complete disappointment. Since a round boat with no underwater appendages has no real front or rear, it doesn't have definable sides either. The only reasonable way to propel one of these latter day coracles is to master the art of sculling. Not even regular sculling will do. You must "follow the paddle." While I spent much of both Saturday and Sunday describing and demonstrating these rather arcane skills; the only real way to do it, is to learn by trial and error. As a result, discovery learning got a big boost in the eyes of folks watching from a safe remove along the parking lot safety railing-and of course, with the several dozen braver souls who actually climbed into those lurching little anomalies. We even conducted the First Annual Toledo Coracle Race. Great fun for everybody.
The idea of "working" exhibits got a great deal of attention in a couple directions. Michael, up in the parking lot, was already at it when some of us arrived a day early. With half-dozen tents set up, and all the materials stacked and ready; family groups were already turning perfectly good plywood into small strips, odd chunks, and shavings when I sailed "Punkin Seed" into her slip on Friday morning. Those strips and shavings quickly morphed into the most-lovely one person pulling boats. Then, a gaggle of Elegant Punts went from scratch to boat on the final day, Sunday. Just a whole lot of well-planned and focused energy came from those tents, to result in smiles, boats, and happy memories for several dozen folks. Great job, Michael!
And, finally, the in-water, and underway side of "working exhibits."
Sparkin' Joe and his electric launch have been fixtures at Toledo for a long time. Joe nearly wore his mooring lines out with scores of trips out into The Slough. He'd no sooner be tied up and passengers debarked, then a new group would come aboard and he'd shove off again. Quite a few of those happy passengers were taking their first boat ride, and a better host would be hard to find.
The other busy working boat was my personal favorite. Captain Mike brought an actual wood burning, smoke belching, steamboat to the mix. Mike used technology that Robert Fulton would recognize, and tied up not far from Bob's Plexiglas-enclosed sailboat that steers by electronic remote control. We had just about everything a true boatnut would care to come and check out.
There's another side to getting to talk with Captain Mike. He is a story teller extraordinaire. I willingly stood in the Friday morning drizzle while Mike patiently explained the whys, wherefores, and personal touches that turn his huge propeller. This, interlarded with tales from motor cycle racing, the glory days of unlimited hydro racing, the intricacies of sailboat rigs and hulls, and well-salted with tales that start with "I know this guy, who."
There's a whole lot more to "Toledo." Make a mark on your calendar, make a commitment on your busy schedule. But, damn it, get yourself there.
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