Josef Renhardt

A boat builder from Traunsee shares his story 

He sits at the wide oak table, apron tied around his waist, gazing through the window panes at Lake Traun, which gently laps against his house, standing since 1626. The Traunsee is his lifeblood — was, we must admit, because Master Johann Höllwerth, the last boat builder of grand style on the shores of theTraunsee, a master of the old school, has already turned 75 and is weary from his labors.

Despite that, he would still reach for the adze, but the new era no longer needs his craftsmanship—large enterprises have adopted iron pontoons, the craft of the boat builder has become extinct, the "shipyard" on the smiling green lake of the Salzkammergut has been shut down. Years ago, when salt was transported on the so-called "Trauners," a stately guild was at work. Father Matthias Höllwerth always employed ten workers, all specialists. The aged boat builder, who engaged in conversation with us, also had his team of workers by his side, although he himself never rested from the first crow of the rooster until deep into the night.

The salt carriers were made in various sizes. The dimensions were 10, 12, 14, 16 fathoms; the width was mostly 14 feet. They called the ships with the roof-like structure "Salzkobl." For the Forestry Treasury, wooden barges with a length of 32 meters and a width of 4 meters were crafted. Here, the bottom was formed from about 40 loads. The "Fortgeher" ships, destined for salt transport to the Black Sea, were built especially strong. The prices are also interesting: 120 guilders were paid for a tenner, and 300 guilders for a sixteenner. The annual production fluctuated between thirty and forty Trauners.

Throughout, spruce wood was utilized for shipbuilding, specifically spruce logs with the roots. The ribs, called "Kipfen," had to lie well and provide support to the ship's planks. The hacking of the Kipfen is already a crucial step in shipbuilding. As far as Master Höllwerth can remember, the Kipfen dealer Johann Mayer supplied the best material from the Kobernaußerwald. He himself obtained it in the Grünau, and with joyful nostalgia, he confesses, "Of course, it was best in Steinkogl; there was a proper Kipfen forest!"

For a tenner, 28 "Kipfn" were needed. Everything in the workshop was hacked. The side walls set the basic measure. The bottom is precisely calculated and hacked, then the ribs are divided at intervals of 33 inches. They are nailed firmly with wooden nails, and the side walls are also nailed on. "Kranzlinge" close off the ship at the front and rear. Finally, the "Sambam" (Saum tree) is hacked. Spanning the closing tree requires a master's hand.

Nailing is, by the way, a specialized process; the approximately one-centimeter-wide, conically outwardly lying gaps are compacted or, as the technical term goes, "schopped." Triangular rods are cut (called "Moosbeil"), which are fitted like wedges into the joints. Spun moss comes on top of it (simple forest moss, twisted into a rope). Depending on the joint width, it is stretched or compressed. Finally, "Zaunen" is applied; over the moss comes a "Latterl." The ship must carry for at least ten years.

The "launch" is called "diving" by the experts. This puts the ship into operation. For larger shipments—such as a fourteenner requiring four to five railroad carloads—there was usually a blessing ceremony. Only two poles (supports) hold the lake transport. "So, are we ready for it?" the Master now asks. "Yes," the assistants call, if everything is right. Then the Master gives the starting signal: "So, go in God's name!" Meanwhile, the supports are struck away, and the wooden giant sinks into the water. Master and assistants are proud, the success is naturally celebrated, and heartfelt joy abounds. "If anyone wants to observe our work, they shouldn't mind having a drink!"

Time marched on—and today, the "shipyards" are lonely and deserted. The seaports grew into gigantic structures, ocean liners present themselves as floating cities—and in the Salzkammergut, shipbuilding continues to shrink. An ancient craft has fallen asleep; Master Höllwerth is the last of his trade, and that is a pity in itself! The boatbuilder's craft once had a golden foundation...