When I think about boat building on Vancouver Island’s western coast, I reflect on my own family history. My great-grandfather and my grandparents were early settlers in Port Renfrew. They often travelled in the Baird family dugout canoe with their seven children. As a young lad, my father built his own dugout. He often said he and his siblings spent more time on water than on land. As well as building his first troller, he built rowboats, skiffs and motor launches over the years.
When I was a kid, I wanted my own rowboat, so Dad built me one. It was exciting to watch the progress down in our basement. I painted the little wooden boat white, adding the name “Tyee” in green using letter stencils. I spent many hours rowing around Ucluelet Harbour in that sweet little boat. When she was stolen from our wharf, I was devastated. Weeks later, Dad saw the Tyee, sporting a new paint colour, on the back of a passing boat. He went to retrieve her. The new “owner” claimed the boat as his. Dad said, “I know that boat. I built that boat. It’s my daughter’s boat,” and brought her home to me. From then on, I padlocked the Tyee every time I pulled her up on our dock.
After retiring from fishing, logging and tugboat skippering, Dad built a large boat shed down by the harbour. There, he designed and built an eleven-metre twin-screw fibreglass boat, the Saucy Lass. My parents enjoyed trips up and down the coast, but Dad never realized his dream of taking the Saucy Lass across to Hawaii. I’m pretty sure that if he did, Mom would have booked a flight and met him there! Over the years, I’d seen her calmly dealing with rough seas, but she was not that keen on being out in the middle of the Pacific, however seaworthy the boat.
