Hull fourteen — a twelve-foot clinker tender
Elm keel, larch planking, copper roved throughout. She goes in the water when the spring tides suit her, and the log below follows every plank.
@elmkeel · small-boat workshop
Hand-built tenders, oars and honest repairs, made in a tin-roofed shed where the river turns brackish.
Spring commissions — list open
Elm Keel is a one-bench workshop building small rowing and sailing craft to order, and repairing the ones already afloat.
This page keeps everything I point people to in one place — how commissions run, when the shed is open, the guides I get asked for most, and the log of the boat currently on the bench. Tended by hand, last on 26 September 2026.
Elm keel, larch planking, copper roved throughout. She goes in the water when the spring tides suit her, and the log below follows every plank.
Commissions are taken in tide order: tenders first, then oars, then small joinery. Tell me the water you row in and I will say honestly whether elm or larch suits it — and whether a second-hand hull would serve you better.
From mid-morning until the light goes. Come in soft shoes — the floor is shavings by noon — and there is no need to announce yourself. If the tide is wrong for launching, the day becomes a planing lesson instead.
Split planks, tired transoms, rowlocks that have given up, oars that need re-leathering: yes. Fibreglass hulls, trailers and outboards: no, and I will point you to people far kinder to them than I would be.
Three measurements decide it: the beam at your rowlocks, the freeboard when the boat is loaded the way you actually load it, and your own reach when seated. Everything after that is preference and balance point.
Elm for keels because it forgives standing water, larch for planking because it bends without argument, oak for the ribs it was grown for. Offcuts become spoons and cleats; very little of a good plank reaches the stove.
A low-angle block plane, one properly sharpened chisel, a spokeshave and a decent bevel gauge will carry a beginner further than a wall of gadgets. Spend what is left on a sharpening stone, not on another saw.
What is on the bench, what went wrong that month, and a drawing or two. There is no schedule beyond the weather, and nothing is ever sold in it.
Written in the evenings, so it runs about a week behind the bench. Includes the garboard I fitted twice and the reason the second one sits better than the first.
Mostly sea songs and fiddle, a little brass when the weather turns, and complete silence whenever a scarf joint gets delicate. Updated whenever the batteries in the old speaker allow.
A tender takes a season, not a fortnight, and oars are quicker only when the blanks are already seasoned. Names come off the list in the order they went on, and I will tell you early if yours will not fit this year.
Most boats leave on a trailer from the yard gate, which is the cheapest and the most enjoyable way to take one home. Longer journeys travel crated by road; oars go wrapped, taped and shipped flat.
Rinse the salt off before she dries, loosen anything clamped, and store her covered but breathing — a sealed tarpaulin does more harm than a whole winter of rain. Varnish in spring, once the shed stops sweating.