In common with many local men, Dudley Cadieux constructed his own boat, though his “rudimentary woodworking skills forced him to eliminate nearly all curvature from the design. The resulting contours had very much the profile of a slice of pie.”

Moreover, the skiff’s colour scheme added to that effect. “Its exterior was painted a warm tone of beige. The inside was buttercup yellow.” Of course, “Dudley … was ready with … an iron-clad explanation. ‘It’s excellent enamel. The store had two custom tins that somebody didn’t collect. … The price was right. So, why not?’”

And in the end, “Granny offered the description that stuck. ‘It looks like a piece of Mrs. Birmingham’s lemon pie.’ From then on it was the pie-shaped boat.”

Providence Point, p. 133

That homemade boat exemplified an entrepreneurial spirit that was typical along the shoreline of the Bay. Dudley no doubt lacked the master touch of an artisan like Bébert. Still, his self-reliance eventually proved to be justified. His chef-d’oeuvre’s ill-fitting seams may have taken unusually long to tighten after being set afloat, but finally he possessed as seaworthy as craft as any other.

Even in those days, willingness to tackle projects demanding skills beyond one’s formal training was becoming rare in the city. For instance, the immediate post-War flurry of self-constructed homes had largely died out. And drivers capable of maintaining their own vehicles were growing scarce. As the current terminology would have it, city dwellers were becoming ‘de-skilled.’ Such self-reliance was more and more restricted to countryside settings.

Not every reader will have grown up in the company of people who displayed that kind of independence. But if you had that good fortune, please leave a comment.

(Illustration generated by AI)


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