If you hang out with kayakers long enough, you’re bound to hear someone say, “You paddle a canoe, you wear a kayak.” The saying is meant to describe the difference in how you feel when you slip into a kayak that is tight enough to turn when you turn the lower half of your body and how you feel sitting on the seat of a canoe. There are, however, plenty of canoe paddlers with boats that fit them extremely well, who would take issue with the distinction.

Being both a canoeist and a kayaker, I guess I don’t find much meaning in the saying, either.

I have known a few boats that don’t fit very well. The first canoes that I paddled were old and well used fiberglass boats. They had served in a camp and had not known the best of treatment. When they had been scratched or banged, additional layers of fiberglass had been added. When they got to looking too tacky, additional layers of paint were added. By the time I paddled the boats, they were heavy and no longer well balanced. They still were a lot of fun and they had great potential to teach campers the basics of paddling and when it was my turn, I added layers of fiberglass and paint in an attempt to keep them looking good for the campers.

I also began to let folks know that the camp would sure appreciate a few newer canoes. I brokered the donation of the first plastic canoes obtained by the camp. What a difference these boats were. They were much lighter to carry, they sat higher in the water, they were easier to turn and paddle.

But they were noting like the first woodstrip canoe I built. Even though it is amateurish compared with the boats I now build, it was light weight, nimble, turned easily and could make good speed when paddled. Over the years I have improved the boat by making better seats, adding a thwart, re-doing the gunwales and the like. I also added a sailing rig with mast and boom, lee boards and a rudder. The sailing rig is probably a bit overbuilt and a bit heavy, but it is a nice addition.

The 17’ boat, however, doesn’t really fit me in such a way that I would say that I wear the boat. I do, however, have a couple of canoes that I have made that fit that bill.

Talk to any old time canoeist and you’re likely to hear of a Chestnut Prospector that is revered and beloved. I’ve paddled a couple of the classic wood and canvas canoes and I know why they are so favored. But they also are a in price range that is a bit beyond my reach. So I made a wood strip canoe to the lines of a 16’ Prospector. If a person could only have one boat, this one would be worth considering. It is symmetrical. I usually paddle from the stern seat when paddling tandem and turn the boat around when paddling solo. I prefer to kneel when paddling solo, and have a pad that I lay in the center of the canoe. I get right behind (or forward, if I were going that direction) the center thwart and place a small stuff sack between my knees. I can sit back on the bow seat if I want to stretch out my legs. In that position, the canoe will heel and turn in perfect unison with the lower half of my body. I can reach out with my paddle for a brace stroke or reach under the boat for a deep sweep. The boat has capacity for a huge load of cargo. It will literally haul half a ton - not bad for a vessel that I can carry and lift to the top of a car by myself.

Another canoe that seems to really fit me is my Wee Lassie. At just over 13’ long, it is a great solo canoe. I usually paddle it with a double paddle like a kayak. It is very light weight - lighter than any of may kayaks - and nimble. It displaces very little water, so can be paddled in the shallows. It seems to turn just by my thinking of turning. It doesn’t have too much freeboard, so it doesn’t heel too much, but a simple lean will send the boat into a graceful curve away from an obstacle.

I also have a We-no-nah Recon that is equipped with air bags, a kneeling pedestal, knee pad and braces and foot pads. It is as secure as any kayak in terms of slipping into the boat and feeling one with the vessel.

Fortunately at this point in my life I don’t have to choose between a canoe and a kayak. My first kayak was built to a design by Nick Schade. It is considered to be a beginner’s boat, suitable for learning, for paddling in relatively big water, and also fine for rivers with a little current, but not for rocks or true whitewater. Unlike my whitewater kayak, it has enough room for me to carry a few extras. It is an excellent platform for taking pictures and one of my favorite boats for solo paddling. I’ve paddled that boat in the Pacific and Atlantic coasts of both the U.S. and Canada. It’s been in the Bay of Fundy and the Puget Sound. It’s been in the Missouri and the Yellowstone and in dozens and dozens of lakes.

Perhaps there is something about having a canoe or kayak that makes one want to have another. There is no such thing as a perfect boat. Each boat is a series of compromises. A longer, expedition kayak is great to have if you’re heading for the ocean, but not very useful in many rivers. A beamy kayak is fun for beginners to paddle because it feels so stable, but nearly impossible to roll.

So I’ll keep “wearing” a variety of boats. I don’t change them as often as I change my clothes, so the analogy is also imperfect. No worries. I enjoy paddling even more than I enjoy writing about paddling.

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