Sunday I worked on oars and rope-ends. I haven't had much rowing experience, so it came as a revelation to me that oars must be protected from the bits of hardware upon which they pivot. Makes sense. In our times, there are two common ways to protect them: by killing cattle (for leather) or using up non-renewable mineral resources (to make plastic). There may be other approaches -- I just haven't learned about them yet.
To attach the leathers, I trimmed them to fit the oars, then nailed them on with bronze brads. A couple of strips of additional leather keeps the oarlock, uh, locked onto the oar. There's a pin in the bottom of each oarlock which can fit into the oarlock sockets mounted on the gunwales.
I think I promised to go on and on about the oars at some point. These lovely oars are made by a reputable company about 150 miles north of here, on Vancouver Island in British Columbia. One can buy their oars by going up there (a wonderful trip but costly and time-consuming) or by ordering online. The cost is reasonable, given the materials (laminated spruce) and the workmanship.
CLC, the maker of the Passagemaker boat kit, also sells these oars. Same manufacturer, made in the same location, same model, same everything. And they sell them for less (I assume because they buy them in volume and pass a portion of the savings on to us consumers).
See what's happening here? CLC buys a pallet-full of oars from a company on the west coast of Canada and has them shipped to Annapolis, Maryland, 3000 miles away. Then they sell a pair to me and ship it all the way back here, only 150 miles or so from where they were manufactured.
I don't even want to think where the Spruce trees were.
If I were a good planetary steward, I guess I would have skipped the entire project and spent the time growing lettuce in the back yard. There goes my Nobel prize for ecological ethics.
This project took a preposterously long time -- nearly three hours. Fortunately, the Seahawks game was on the radio and, improbably, they won.
Oh, yeah, rope-ends. You can burn the ends to seal them, sort-of, or you can bind them with overpriced nautical twiney stuff, or you can dip them in .. oh oh ... some kind of petroleum derivative. I think we know where this is headed, don't we?
Here, in all their overexposed glory, lie many rope-ends, all having been dipped in Whip It (manufactured in Florida, I think -- probably made from spilled Gulf oil). Abysmal photography effectively hides any good view of these rope-ends, but you can see some more of those well-traveled oars, anyway.
Hmmmm. I wonder if there's any chance I will use the oars to travel as far as they've already been. I think not. But maybe if I hand 'em down to future generations ... well, there's hope.
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