History hits water
It's a boat, it's a mystery, it's the long-vanished periauger

Staff Photos by Sher Stoneman

John Ernst, left, and Craig Wright raise the mast of the periauger after launch at Beaufort.

By ANNE SAKER, Staff Writer

BEAUFORT -- All sailors know that anything can happen when a boat first kisses water. But the risk confronting Monty Spindler and John Ernst on Monday weighed even more heavily than customary, for after years of research and months of construction, they were guiding a piece of history to its moment of truth.

Under the high ceiling of the Watercraft Center, on wooden blocks, sat a replica of a boat that civilized the Carolina coast during the nation's colonial period and then disappeared. Until it came together in the past nine months, no one knew what a periauger (pronounced pair-ee-AW-ger) might look like.

Now, at last, the boat would touch the sea.

It would be a brief meeting, for much remains to be done on the periauger. But Spindler and Ernst believed the time had come for the boat to come out from the mists of time, even if it might spring a leak or two.

"We'll bring it out on the pulleys," Spindler said, "and I'll say a word on its behalf."

"Yeah, please float," Ernst replied.

History says the periauger came to North Carolina with French Protestant settlers. The boat looked like a dugout canoe. The 18- to 20-inch draft allowed it to ply coastal waters with heavy cargo. It could be powered either by its two sails or its eight oars.

The periauger apparently was commonplace in Eastern North Carolina in the first half of the 18th century. But with progress in shipbuilding, the periauger vanished, and, mysteriously, no remains or even images were found.

Only two short writings mention the periauger. The best description was in a list of goods belonging to Abraham Sanders, who in 1730 built what is considered the oldest brick residence in the state, the Newbold-White House in Hertford.

In 1991, Michael Alford, then director of the N.C. Maritime Museum, made it his mission to research the periauger. Then he drew plans to build one. The Perquimans County Restoration Association, which operates the Newbold-White House, raised more than $100,000 in private donations and federal money.

Since 2002, more than 30 volunteers have worked on the boat. The 30-foot hull and keel, plus the two 26-foot masts, were cut from North Carolina cypress. The builders pieced together the hull like butcher's block with epoxy and planed it inside and out. The oars came from ash.

Sea trials in August

Next month, when it is expected to be fully assembled, the periauger will go on sea trials from Beaufort, visiting six coastal towns until it arrives at its permanent home, the Newbold-White House.

Spindler and boatbuilder Craig Wright oversaw the construction. Ernst organized next month's "odyssey" for the periauger.

On Monday, they took turns looking over the boat as volunteers swept it out and touched up the epoxy for the inaugural dip.

On the water outside the boat shop, huge seagoing pleasure boats glided by, and kayakers paddled away.

Esther Ford of Havelock, who owns a boat, wiped the prow of the periauger. She had spent hours mixing epoxy and planing the hull.

"I'm glad it's looking as good as it is," she said. "You know, anything can happen when it gets into the water."

Three boating buddies from Durham, Harold O'Briant, Jim Fedyshyn and Andy Bond, arrived. They have volunteered to crew the boat when it sets off from Beaufort next month.

"I came down Saturday," O'Briant said, "and I said, 'Guys, is it going to be ready to launch?' And they said, 'It'll launch. The question will be, will it float?' "

O'Briant, Fedyshyn and Bond run boats with motors, and they are unpracticed with oars. Spindler is lining up rowing lessons.

"So, we've got to stop doing this," said O'Briant as he bent his elbow three times, "and start doing this," and he rowed both arms. The men laughed.

Don Hoss of Beaufort, a retired biologist from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration, smiled Monday as he watched Spindler hook the anchor on the side of the hull.

Hoss took up blacksmithing as a hobby and was surprised when Spindler gave him a set of plans and asked him to fashion an anchor, by hand.

"The plans said 'plus or minus' a lot, so I just had to guess sometimes," Hoss said. "But back in those days, it would have been some farmer doing it himself, so I figured I could try."

First touch of sea

At 10:30, Spindler said the boat was as ready as it was going to be. William Prentice, the boat shop manager, pressed a button and dropped a hook on a pulley. People in shorts and sandals, armed with cameras, moved through the boat shop and out to the dock.

Ernst brought out a red, white and blue bunting, and he and Spindler tied it to the front. Prentice secured two slings under the boat. With another press of a button, the clanking pulleys hauled the periauger into the air and over the water.

Spindler grabbed a bottle of J. Roget champagne wrapped in a brown towel. He thanked everyone for coming.

"This is the first time the periauger had touched the sea," he said. "We wish the periauger well and a safe passage. And now, to satisfy King Neptune," and he dashed the bottle against the prow twice, then it smashed apart, and people cheered.

Then they hushed.

Prentice pressed the buttons on the lift controller. The pulleys played out the chains. The pilings creaked with the load. The gathering stared at the periauger as it neared its fate.

Finally ... the keel cut the water, the hull settled, and the pulleys stopped. The periauger swayed gently.

"She floats!" a voice cried. The witnesses shouted, "Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray! Hip hip hooray!"

Then someone said, "There's water." The builders spotted four pinhole leaks. Nothing serious. They would haul the periauger out later and patch everything up.

Ernst smiled and shrugged.

"It's history," he said.

Staff writer Anne Saker can be reached at 829-8955 or asaker@newsobserver.com.