Emma Kate Gilbert had no one to blame if her kayak tipped over. That’s because she built it herself, and took it on its first test run Friday.
“Oh, God,” she murmured nervously, trying to squeeze into the boat’s small opening. She had to bring her knees up toward her chin, as the trembling boat sent distress waves across the water.
She was one of 10 special-education students testing out boats on White Bear Lake — boats they had built themselves.
The students of Capitol View Center in Little Canada, part of Northeast Metro District 916, constructed five vessels under the supervision of the nonprofit group Urban Boatbuilders in St. Paul.
For months, the students have been bused twice a week to a workshop. Urban Boatbuilders instructor Phil Winger said the group had no trouble with the specific tasks — sawing, painting, measuring.
But working together as a team? That takes time to learn, he said, and that may be one of the most valuable lessons of the experience.
“This has been a life-changing experience for them,” said teacher Sue Sanders Johnson. “It’s so much more effective than book learning.”
The boat-launching event brought a crowd of about 20 parents and onlookers to White Bear Lake’s Matoska Park.
Winger displayed the boats on a lawn, answering questions about the exotic-looking Greenland kayak.
The slender, 17-foot-long vessel sits low in the water, with a built-in cowl to protect the paddler from icy waves. Winger explained that the native people used sealskin for the exterior and lashed the ribs together with sinews from animal carcasses.
“The lashing we use is more like heavy-duty dental floss,” he said.
No animals killed for this kayak, joked his student Gilbert. “It’s a vegan canoe,” she said.
Next to him James Gillam Palmer, 18, of White Bear Lake, proudly examined a white-painted rowboat.
He learned to use a bandsaw to form the wooden pieces of the boat. “That was the only thing I didn’t like — dust from the bandsaw,” he said. Until Friday, he had never ridden in a human-propelled boat.
ON THE WATER
Instructor Winger coached the group about wearing life jackets and not paddling too far away.
“If you are upside down and have problems, we will be right there,” he said — which made a few of them squirm.
The untested pilots carried their untested boats to the dock, not even sure about exactly how to put them in the water.
Michel Moroni, 19, of Lindstrom was the bravest — the first person to ride in the Greenland kayak, the least-stable boat of the bunch.
He folded up his legs, knees jammed against the oval-shaped opening. The boat rocked precariously.
And paddling … how do you do that?
“Remember this dance move we talked about?” said instructor Winger on the dock, miming a back-and-forth motion with his arms.
Then Moroni slipped away.
The crowd watched, half-expecting to see him dumped into the water. But in a few strokes, Moroni adapted, and was soon gliding on the lake like an ice skater on a frozen pond.
When he finally pulled back to the dock, spontaneous applause erupted.
The other students followed, one by one, and their boats wove back and forth like bumper cars at a county fair. Cries of “Oh, no!” and “Watch out!” rose from the group on shore.
But there were no casualties — yet.
Gilbert — easily the biggest comedian of the group — joked about herself, the boats and the teachers. “I have Asperger’s,” she said, “which means a high level of smart-assery.”
She lowered herself gingerly into the tippy Greenland kayak. Every time she twitched, the boat wiggled dangerously.
She paddled for a while, gaining confidence. But then, according to teacher Johnson, she hit a patch of reeds and flipped over.
“She was hilarious,” said Johnson. “She acted like it didn’t phase her. What an inspiration.”
It’s unlikely that being dumped will change her feelings.
Before the dunking, on dry land, she crouched down to examine a wave design on the kayak — which she designed and then hand-etched with a wood-burning tool. She made the oars, lashed the struts together, and painted the hull.
“I have,” she said, “enjoyed this boat so much.”