Qajaq
The slow, methodical sound of a stone scraping away shavings of wood, sloping and bending a carefully rock-sanded plank into shape along the forming body of the kayak, was music to Nanuk's ears. He had spent days on this craft, forming its skeleton and now creating its body, and he expected to spend a couple of days more, but every minute that he spent was worth it: the man took pride in his work. Of course he did -- creating kayaks for the tribe was a very special position, and one that Nanuk had learned only through decades of careful practice under his father's watchful gaze. A mediocre kayak (or, as the people of the tribe called them, qajaqs) could still be used, but a mediocre kayak was not acceptable. Instead, with every individual piece of wood carefully split with a stone axe, and then carved and sanded into shape through various other, specially chosen rocks, a proper qajaq could dance through the water, carving the seas with its narrow bow as its rower turned and sped towards what he was hunting. That was what Nanuk wanted to create, something to be proud of.
The qajaq (finely crafted through days of effort, making them something individually treasured by each community of the tribe, but making each one a masterpiece) is a one-man boat, extremely narrow with sharp ends, the body smoothly curving in order to ensure a streamlined shape that allows the vessel to move extremely quickly in the water when a capable paddler is in its seat. That seat is only a small area, most of the qajaq's top closed and part of the body of the craft, with sealskin sealing the rest of the area between the kayaker and the craft itself. What this means is that capacity is a little limited (though successfully hunted prey can be stored inside the kayak, where the design will keep it safe) and it's a one-man vessel, but the qajaq can pull off unparalleled maneuverability without risking filling the boat with water or throwing its occupant. It comes with a two-ended paddle used by the kayaker.
OK TAKE TWO DAMN ENABRIANS TAKING MY FUCKING INUIT LORE
Voyaging Canoe
The sounds of the sea and the flapping of his sail greeted Saia's ears as he woke -- he had spent the night asleep on his canoe, as did most men of his tribe when the voyaging time came. The life of a member of the tribe was a life conducted often on the move, over the open water, and key to that process was their canoes -- normally, Saia wouldn't be alone with one, as the craft were large, allowing family to stay together as they sailed, but right now he was, well, having a little bit of a spat. It would be fine -- after the days of the voyage they would probably have forgiven him. And well-made craft were capable of going for days, food stored in the back of the canoe, the sail catching the wind and lazily but purposefully drifting along the waves...
The Voyaging Canoe is a large canoe built primarily of wood, with a large sail made of long, narrow palm fronds woven together tightly, and light wooden outrigging built at the side of the craft. The craft don't exactly take a short time to make because of the amount of stone-carved wood that has to be put plank-by-plank (each plank split and shaped carefully through merely different kinds of stones) together and the careful weaving of the palm fronds that make up the sail, and they aren't exactly fast or maneuverable, but this cost comes with the main benefit of the craft: being able to travel shockingly large distances and voyage for surprisingly long times, days at a time, allowing the tribe incredible overall mobility and nomadism over the water.