SHORELINES

A floating work of art Crafting a symphony of wood W hen wood and canvas canoes first appeared more than a century ago, no one had dreamed of personal watercraft, jet boats or water skiing. A lake was a place for paddling. If you were lucky, you were paddling something like the canoe Steve Ambrose pilots on this fall evening, a handcrafted vessel made of mahogany, birch, ash, spruce and cedar. It looks like a symphony The end result is a floating work of art that looks as natural on a lake as a trio of ducks flapping across the horizon. of wood, an intricate harmony of shapes and shades. And it's as stunning in its own way as the reflected sunset animating Lake Martin in front of him. Ambrose builds and repairs these boats, painstakingly assembling them plank by plank. He mills the wood himself and carefully fits pieces into place with the skill and patience of a surgeon. When the canoe's frame is complete, he attaches a canvas skin that's then treated, primed, buffed, sanded and sprayed with several coats of paint. The end result is a floating work of art that looks as natural on a lake as a trio of ducks flapping across the horizon. "You're paddling something that uses products that came out of the woods," says Ambrose, a Shelby County resident and forklift salesman by day. "You feel closer to nature." Paddling one feels different, too. A wooden canoe slips through the water. It moves smoothly and is quieter. He demonstrates by tapping the boat rail with his paddle. There's a quiet thump, not the clanging you'd get in an aluminum canoe. Good for sneaking up on wildlife for fishing or photography. Another advantage is strength. If you put two 200-pound men in a plastic canoe, the middle will pop up like a bent beer can, he says. A wooden canoe is stronger and will keep its shape. But it's clear that these selling points aren't really an issue. Ambrose doesn't even try very hard to make the case. Given that a big box store can sell a new plastic canoe for less than $500 and a wooden one can run into the thousands, there's something else clearly at play. For the 49-year-old, it goes back to childhood, and the summers he and his brother spent paddling on a Maine lake in their grandfather's wood and canvas canoe. Ambrose didn't know what made the boat special until years later when he came across its deteriorating frame. He donated it to a local maritime museum with the Facing: An intricate harmony of shapes and shades. Above: Canoe craftsman Steve Ambrose stands in his workshop, which once was an aircraft hangar. 5

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