Musings from the land and waters
I apologize to the guy from Bend whom I didn’t talk to as long as I would have liked. And to the guy with the rowing boat from Morro Bay who I couldn’t find later. And for missing the capsize demo. And for skipping the great sail by. And I could go on. Continue reading “To the Guy from Bend”
“It’s not exactly an impulse buy,” Harvey told me with a chuckle, when describing his new book, Kayaks of Alaska. I admit that it’s heavy and that maybe the average person wouldn’t buy a copy, but it’s well worth perusing and I’m not just saying that because Harvey is my friend. A big part of the appeal is visual. Continue reading “The Man and The Book”
I first met Harvey before I met him. That is, I knew his name through boat circles. I knew about his museum, because my kids had gone there on a school field trip. And curiously, I almost bought a home two houses down from Harvey’s. Continue reading “Meeting Harvey”
Harvey is kind of shy, but in a good way. Over the next few posts, I’m going to profile a few things I like about him and his new kayak book. To get to know Harvey, you need to know his museum.
The Lincoln Street Canoe & Kayak Museum could just as well be called Harvey’s Museum, or even the Museum of Harvey. Located in a refurbished 1913 corner store in Portland, Oregon, the building is home to dozens of traditional boats, including an Irish Boyne Curragh, an Algonquin birch-bark canoe, and a Wu-Hu tub boat from Nanking, China — all acquired by owner and museum curator Harvey Golden.
Read the rest of the story across the jump at Three Sheets NW.
If you see a small boat anchored with a sleeping bag hoisted up the mast, it’s probably me and Row Bird. Starting on September 5th, we’re going on our fall cruise, departing from Brownsville and heading up to the Wooden Boat Festival in Port Townsend. Along the way we’re hoping to meet as many readers as possible, swap stories, share trade goods, and we promise not to embarrass you. Drop me a line or find us on the water!
“I want to go whaling for my half-birthday,” I told my wife.
She glanced up from her new book, but she didn’t need to speak. The doubt in her eyes said it all. Continue reading “Who Wants to Go Whaling?”
