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The Perfect Paddle

By Beacon Staff

WHITEFISH – It can be difficult to draw a distinction between when a tool ceases to be just an object, and instead becomes a piece of art. Take, for instance, a simple canoe paddle. Constructed of plastic or aluminum, with a blade at one end and a grip at the other, the paddle can be a simple, utilitarian tool. But when it is placed alongside the stunningly feather-weight wooden paddles Bill Tarr crafts in his Whitefish workshop, it’s hard to deny that he has taken a simple concept and made it into art.

But as good as they look, the paddles maintain their function as well, through a strong, elegant and efficient design. Tarr has been making them for 30 years, and calls his operation “Dreadnought Paddles,” after the class of British battleship by the same name. Because he makes so few, Tarr wouldn’t call Dreadnought a business, and that’s how he prefers it.

“If it ever got to where I had to get up in the morning and get three paddles done today, I probably wouldn’t do it,” Tarr said. “Most of my enjoyment in this has been the evolution of it.”

Although he has been making canoe paddles off and on for decades, he recently began making paddles for sea kayaks and a paddle with a long shaft for stand-up paddleboarding.

At 72, Tarr is a retired millwright and former maintenance superintendent of the Plum Creek plywood plant in Columbia Falls, which is where he learned the basics of woodworking. Overlooking the Whitefish River, his workshop is a testament to his passions: two 1960s-era MG convertibles he restored fill the room, along with photos of his sons alongside pictures of Tarr skiing and whitewater canoeing.

“I don’t actively go around trying to sell these things,” he said. “All of my work is just word-of-mouth.”

He had almost completely stopped making paddles until members of the outrigger canoe clubs in Whitefish and Bigfork began requesting them a few years ago. For $150, Tarr will make a numbered, custom paddle, “pretty much guaranteed for life.”

Now, he’s passing along to his grandchildren how he painstakingly crafts the paddles with a method that makes them barely perceptibly heavier than their carbon-fiber counterparts.

For the blade of the paddle, Tarr overlays balsa wood with layers of fiberglas. If he uses a graphic on the blade, he prints it off and inserts it at this stage of the process. He then applies epoxy to the outside of the blade, which allows the paddle to withstand a hit against a submerged rock or other obstacle. The shaft, meanwhile, is composed of several layers of wood, usually cedar of contrasting colors. Using different colors makes the shafts stunningly beautiful, but also help Tarr maintain symmetry where the shaft joins the blade.

Hollowing out the shaft saves weight, but Tarr said his method manages to increase the paddle’s strength at the same time.

“Gluing strips together, what you end up with is a truss effect,” Tarr said. “If this was a solid piece, it wouldn’t be nearly as strong.”

At the top of the paddle, Tarr prefers what he calls a “palm grip,” a kind of oval-shaped cap, also crafted from layered cedar, which allows the paddler to exert power while having their hands stay relatively relaxed. He assembles the paddle in a specially made jig that attaches the shaft to the blade at a bent angle that eases entry into and out of the water. He also makes some models with a “double-bend” shaft, that allows the paddler’s bottom wrist to bend at a less severe angle.

Tarr is modest about his work, and discusses it in an offhand way. The toughest part is sanding the paddle down as it begins to approach its final shape. Avoiding over-sanding, of course, is key.

“It doesn’t matter where you’re at on it,” Tarr said. “You can make it smaller but you can’t make it bigger.”

And though some well-known outrigger racing teams in the Great Lakes region have begun using Dreadnought paddles almost exclusively, Tarr doesn’t take any of it too seriously. After a recent knee operation, he made himself a cane, then slapped a Dreadnought label on it and joked that he was expanding his operation.

“It’s all just pretty much hobby stuff,” he said.