John 'arber; Chronicler of the Working he Chesapeake Bay Skipjack was never meant to be a wo rk of arr. This sturdy and swift shallow-draft wooden vessel served as the workhorse of the commercial oyster industry on the bay. With a V-shaped deadrise, centerboard hull, and simple, single-masted two-sail sloop rig, the skipjack was cheap and easy to build. Many were built by "rack of eye," without consulting any drawn plans. In the late 1800s and early 1900s, abo ut 1,5 00 skipjacks skimmed the bay, dredging millions of bushels of oysters destined for tables aro und the country or local canneries. In 1865 , Maryland legislators had passed a law that oysters co uld be dredged only while under sail-a decision made to preserve the oyster population. Still, the oysters' numbers declined and so did the fleet, with the exception of a brief resurgence in skipjack building after World War II . By the 1960s, the skipj ack seemed destined to become a relic. But these humble workman's boats were about to find a champion. John Barber, then a yo ung art student at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia, was attending a gathering of friends on Gwynn's Island when he stepped outside and walked onto the dock. H e watched in awe as the moon rose over the Chesapeake Bay. "I'd never really known the Chesapeake before," John Barber said, but now he was entranced. After graduation, an employer of the artist invited Barber aboard his Maine-built, wooden "Block Island" ketch. Sailing with skipper John Nesbit, Barber go t to know the intricate shoreline, picturesque harbors, and traditional vessels of the Virginia portion of the C hesapeake. He became fasci nated by rhe working side of the bay: the hardy watermen, the buy boats that ran fresh catches to market, and the few proud skipjacks still dredging fo r oysters in the northern bay. In his early twenties, Barber built a small sloop, which he used to explore the bay on his own, painting what he saw. He wanted not just to observe, but to understand what he painted. He sought to discover the details of how these working vessels were built and learn the unique rhythms of life on the Chesapeake Bay, America's largest estuary. H e remembers kneeling on ice-slicked decks and culling oysters from the skipjack's dredge as February's bitter winds drove seas over the windward rail. H e remembers being aboard a crabber, leaving the harbor in the pre-dawn blackness and trying to finish pulling the never-ending strings of crab pots before the blazing August sun began to beat down. He remembers crawling through the bilge of a buy boat with her proud owner to be shown the new wood put into the chunk-built stern to keep her from sinking. The result of more than thirty years of learning the whys and hows of life on the bay is a body of artwork that places the viewer in the heart of the Chesapeake: on the decks of 100-yearold boats that still earn their keep, and on the waterfronts of towns like Annapolis, Maryland, and Deltaville, Virginia. As Barber's career progressed, he expanded his foc us to capture other Chesapeake scenes, including historic steamboats and schoo ners and modern-day yacht races. 28
The Vanishing Fleet (1986) Oil on linen, 20 " x 31" Barber has been deeply involved in efforts to preserve the bay's ecology and heritage. H e served on th e board of the Chesapeal<:e Bay Foundation for nine years. Donating copyrights to his artwork has raised nearly hal fa million dollars for the Foundation and other Chesapeake Bay conservation gro ups. In 1985, he was commissioned by the National Geographic Society to create a piece for then-President Ronald Reagan; he has also painted for the Clinton administration. One of the artist's most memorable SEA HISTO RY 127, SUMMER2009