The watercraft craftsman

Alex Coolman

The electric motor of Richard Jones’ wooden canoe is so quiet that even

the birds can’t hear it.

As he goes cruising through the shallows of the Back Bay or nosing into

the recesses of the harbor, most birds -- and many humans -- fail to

notice him. And that’s the way he likes it.

“By the time they realize I’m there,” he cackles, “I’m already past.”

The 45-year-old Edgewater Avenue resident started designing wooden canoes

in Oregon when he realized that the effort of maintaining a big power

boat was more trouble than it was worth.

An electric canoe, on the other hand, can be built for $250, he says.

It’s light enough that he can carry it himself. And it’s small enough

that it can fit on top of a car or in a garage rather than in an

expensive slip.

Jones is excited about the possibilities of using very inexpensive

materials for his boats. He’s built dozens of canoes, and many of them

are put together out of wood that is typically used as the veneer “skin”

on doors.

The materials for Mystical Enchantress, the boat he currently uses, only

cost $40, he said.

But to focus on the low price of the boat is to miss what makes it so

extraordinary: the intricate craftsmanship that Jones puts into the

details of the vessel.

Mystical Enchantress, like many of his canoes (he’s built dozens), is

inlaid with patterns of colorful hardwood. On top of those pieces of

rosewood and ebony, he attaches small figurines, arrowheads and beads.

Each piece, he says, has a symbolic meaning.

“This is a turtle,” he says, pointing to a small figure. “It means that

you may have obstacles to overcome, but you’ll get there safely.”

The ornate bits of woodwork and ornamentation on Jones’ boat drew Balboa

resident Gay Wassall-Kelly’s attention.

“We were really intrigued as to the workmanship of the canoe,” she said.

But the simple, nearly silent design of the craft also seemed indicative

of Jones’ way of looking at things.

“He just wanted to go out and relax and not have to row but yet not have

the noise or the pollution,” she said.

The boat fits neatly into Jones’ semimystical view of life, in which

nature plays a large role.

“I’m a Christian,” he said, “but I’m also a Buddhist. I think everything

deserves the same respect.”

It’s a vision of the world that has been formed to a significant degree

by watching the changes that have taken place over time in Newport Bay.

Where fish used to be plentiful a few decades ago, they’re now scarce, he

said.

“If you were an alien and you came here 100 years ago and if you were to

come back now, more than anything else what mankind would look like on

this planet is a cancer,” he said.So Jones patrols in his quiet canoe,

keeping an eye on the wildlife. From time to time, he comes across a

creature in need.

One time it was a cantankerous swan named Rupert who was stuck in an oil

spill. Another time he rescued some bathers who had been swept into high

surf.

And occasionally, says Wassall-Kelly, Jones’ batteries run out.

“We have seen him with one paddle going home,” she said.