Publications

AMC Outdoors, March 2003

The first step Adam Bolonsky took when embarking on his career as a boatbuilder wasn't exactly a traditional one: He measured the window casings of his basement. Then, satisfied that he'd be able to maneuver the finished product out of his house — "I'd heard too many horror stories" — he set to work. Two hundred hours later, he'd built his own sea kayak. Twelve years after that, he says, "It's my favorite boat, and still the fastest I own."

Bolonsky has built six kayaks for himself and taught countless others to do the same, both privately and through the Essex Shipbuilding Museum on Massachusetts' North Shore. When he is not guiding students through the fine arts of epoxy application and keel-line symmetry, he works as a sea kayak fishing guide, paddling instructor, and outdoors writer. A former college English and English as a Second Language teacher who left the classroom two years ago to pursue his outdoor interests, Bolonsky, 42, is also a founding board member of the North Shore Paddlers Network, a sea kayaking club with members from Rhode Island to Maine.

"I've had boats all my life," says the native of Gloucester, Mass. "I grew up sailing, fishing, and swimming, and had raced sailboats. But as I moved closer to the city, storage became an issue." Now living in Arlington, just northwest of Boston, Bolonsky finds sea kayaks a practical possession. "All you need is a little space on the back porch. You can stack three kayaks in a sling, and you get 12 months of use for a fraction of the cost of storing larger ones."

Besides being economical in matters of space, self-built kayaks proved to make economic sense in additional ways: They cost and weigh less than other options on the market. "[Wooden sea kayaks] are the most inexpensive and light solution, " he says. "It's just a coincidence that they are eye-catching and lovely."

To spread that news, Bolonsky has been sharing his skills for the last decade: first offering informal advice to friends and friends of friends who knew he had the experience; and, in the last few years, teaching at the shipbuilding museum. He is currently talking with local outfitters about possible partnerships, and dreams of getting enough classes going to open a permanent shop.

Meanwhile, Bolonsky teaches two to four classes a year, usually about eight days in length, through the museum. "Any amateur with plenty of patience and grit and a sense of adventure can build one of these in anywhere from a week to two years," he says. The relatively modern stitch-and-glue method — in which marine plywood panels (Bolonsky uses the light, strong, African-grown okoume) are stitched together with copper wire, shaped into a hull, then draped with a fiberglass skin and saturated with epoxy — is much more straightforward than the labor-intensive traditional process, he says. "This way one person can build their own boat quickly and easily, and won't go broke or get divorced in the process."

Still, this method has its challenges. From the teacher's point of view, it's tough "to get a disparate group of people to perform some unusual skills at the same level." As for satisfaction, that's easy: "One day a builder's eyes light up, and I know they've realized they're only a few days away from owning a boat. It's a lot of work, and a lot of sweat, but the excitement is palpable."

Bolonsky says that excitement can make first-time owners over-protective, joking that the kayaks become more durable as the years go by. "A brand-new owner might rarely touch their boat without gloves," he says. "After a few years, they're surfing onto the beach, running up on rocks, flinging it on the roof of their car. This is a boat you build now to give to your grandkids. It will definitely outlast its builder."

This builder also helps paddlers get the most out of their projects. He leads skills sessions for the Paddlers Network in the Boston area and will teach an AMC Sea Kayak Navigation Skills workshop in New Hampshire this spring.

When he hits the water on his own, Bolonsky heads out to explore or fish off the coast of his home state. And wherever he goes, he keeps a close eye on the waters around him. "As a boy, I had a fantasy that I would meet a mermaid," he confesses. "Maybe I will one day."

 To Build a Boat, intro   |  Paul Barton  |  Lynne Paju  |  Adam Bolonsky