Why build a sea kayak?

Ultimately, I have to blame my friend Steve. Some years ago he suggested a multiday kayak trip in the San Juan Islands. Despite the crowded coves, the power boaters who cursed us to our faces, the million ton ferry that used its air horn to encourage us to get the $#%* out of the way, and the LSD-crazed locals who nearly set the campground ablaze, I found the trip enjoyable.

The self-contained nature of the boat and the self-reliance required to move the boat across the ocean gave gave me a feeling I've only had backpacking or rock-climbing -- only more so. Since that time, my wife and I have bought recreational kayaks suitable for lakes, bays, and slow rivers, and we've managed to go on a couple of ocean day trips in rented boats. The more I've kayaked and the more I've learned, the more I have felt inclined to kayak.

Inclinations led to web searches which led me to Nick Schades excellent Guillemot Kayaks site. The voice in my head (which has served me well throughout life) said "What could be more self-reliant than paddling around in a kayak you built yourself?" After a year of drooling over these beautiful wooden boats, I ordered Nick Schade's first book The Strip Built Kayak. Finally my wife said, "Why don't you go ahead and build one?" The fact that my wife would suggest I undertake such a garage-crowding, sawdust generating activity shows that either (a) I married an encouraging, understanding woman, or (b) she just likes it better when I'm out in the garage. I firmly believe (a), but either way, I'm building a kayak now. The model I settled on is the Guillemot.

So, I ordered plans and set out on a kayak building adventure. And, an adventure it is, fraught with fits and starts. It is forcing me to learn new skills, to learn how to be patient with myself, and giving me the opportunity to buy lots of new tools. What could be better?