Cathead

I haven't made much visible progress in the last few weeks, but have been doing a lot of preparatory planning for the complicated next step(s). First, here's the one major achievement: the rudder assemblies.

I built these up from multiple layers of wood, making the actual rudders a bit thicker than the wings that link them to the hull. I based the curve in the latter (where they meet the hull) on the mold I used to bend the stern frames in the first place, then carved/sanded the curve to its final fit. The hinges are just thin strip styrene; at this scale I don't have the skill to fabricate true hinges, and these will be well hidden behind the paddle wheel. Boats like Bertrand used four rudders, two inboard masters with tall tiller posts that link to the steerage assembly, and two outboard slaves linked to the masters by hinged rods. I simulated these linkages with more thin strip styrene; again this detail will be almost entirely hidden on the finished model. I'll add the horizontal tiller extensions once I start laying out the engine room properly. The rudders had to be the next project, as I needed the boat upside down to do them properly, and once I start building up the superstructure it'll be a LOT harder to turn her over.

I've also been making slow headway on the deck planking; slow because each line of planks has to be measured, cut, glued, and allowed to dry before the next goes into place. This is about as far as I'm going to go for now, as soon I'll need to start installing various vertical posts for the superstructure, which extend into the hull. Once I have the framing in place, I'll finish planking around it. This, at least, gives a sense of the planking's appearance (before any sanding). I've been intentionally staining planks with different dilutions, to discourage uniformity, and like the result so far (sanding will mute it slightly).

Now comes the fun stuff, machinery, which I intend to tackle in this order:

Paddlewheel

Piston engines (which link to the wheel), located roughly behind "Bertrand" in the drawing above

Boiler assembly (which links to the piston engines), located near the bow, forward of the two white cross-pieces I've already installed (see photo 2).

Fabricating these will take quite some time. I intend to use styrene, of which I have a diverse supply from my model railroading endeavors; I'm used to it and have no experience in metal working. When painted and weathered, it gives a nice approximation of metal, suitable for my purposes.

It may be a month or more before I update again. August is a busy time for me, and we are planning a two-week vacation in September. So I will likely not update this log again before late September, depending on how much work gets done. Thanks for your patience with my skewed priorities, emphasizing worldly pursuits over boat-building!

Steve, I have that book in hardcopy sitting on my workbench! Great book and a significant resource for this build.

Carl, yes, that's a fantastic build that I've looked over a few times in planning out this build. I've visited the real Cairo and it's really neat to see such a good model of it.

Here's the boiler assembly I build for my last steamboat:

Technically these aren't the engines, those are at the stern, one on each side. The boiler feeds steam through an overhead pipe toward the stern, where the pipe splits in two and leads to the engines, where large cylinders are mounted fore-and-aft so that each cylinder stroke drives one side of the sternwheel.

Building the boiler doesn't concern me as much as the engine assemblies; I have to decide how much detail I can reasonably include. They're complicated buggers.

That looks fairly different from the mid-1800 steamboat boilers I'm familiar with, which used a series of boiler tubes side-by-side. For example, Bertrand very likely used something quite like this (image from this thread):

This type of design is what I intend to use for the model, with specific modifications based on my current resources (for example the number of boiler tubes varies from boat to boat), unless I turn up new information to the contrary. But in a general sense, this is what Mississippi Valley steamboat boiler assemblies looked like mid-century to the best of my knowledge. Here's another one, the boiler assembly from the Arabia, which sunk near Kansas City in 1856.

Steve,

What do you mean by "locomotive type"?

Kurt,

Fantastic story & images. Know any lawyers who want a steamboat? 

Steve,

There are no drawings of the Bertrand's machinery; the wreck was partially salvaged shortly afterward with a focus on all the iron, and later river currents and burial swept away everything above the main decking. Only the main hull was found and documented by the archaeological team. However, I have some information on typical machinery of the period that I had intended to draw from. What period are your drawings from?

Kurt,

That's a great tip, thanks! Their site doesn't have any purchasing info, I think I'll call to inquire. I may also look into interlibrary loan, given my budgetary constraints. I don't get out much, but that museum sure looks interesting.

mtaylor,

Oh, no worries, just thought I'd set the record straight. 

Hey, thanks, all. Pictures are great for lying with; this way you can't see all the little flaws that I can!

mtaylor, for what it's worth, I'm not Keith, jbelwood's comment is in a response to a question asked BY Keith about a different model, way back in comment #81.

dgbot, this is a scratchbuild, so no one "gave" me any wood. The model is entirely basswood strips from Model Shipways.

The scary part is still to come, building reasonable representations of all the internal machinery, and fitting it in amongst the complicated superstructure. But hey, we wouldn't do this if we didn't like challenges.

Progress report: the hull is planked!

As planned, I only finished the port side, leaving the bottom and starboard side open for interior views. I extended planking onto the bottom only far enough to complete the strakes necessary for the bow.

Above is the bow close-up, with the finished underside of the guards. Finish sanding hadn't happened yet in this photo.

Here's the stern. I extended the planking a short distance onto the starboard side to complete the transition, and planned the planking to follow a sweeping curve into the stern for aesthetic reasons. I think it's more attractive this way than a square cut-off at the base of the stern.

Next was priming and painting the planked portion of the hull, the nice clean white of a new steamboat. This sets off the interior bracing nicely. I also added hatch frames, cylinder timbers, and the first line of planking along the centerline.

Closeups of the bow and stern. The cylinder timbers, in pairs port and starboard, will support the actual steam engines whose pistons drive the wheel, which is supported by the aft extension of these timbers.

The next stage is complicated; it's not as simple as just planking the deck. Bertrand's superstructure is supported by timbers based in the hull, and I'd like to do this justice rather than just erecting the superstructure on the deck. Also, there are a number of hog-chains (iron rods which support the hull longitudinally) which run on braces also extending down into the hull. These, too, need to be planned for before decking is completed. Thus I may be better off constructing these items before planking, which means planking around a bunch of stuff. Should be fun to work out properly.

In the meantime, here's Missouri's own Cathy Barton and Dave Para with a nice instrumental medley:

I've read the book, and enjoyed it. However, as John points out, it has also been thoroughly refuted.

I look at it this way: many things are possible in history, but didn't turn out to have happened. For example, Thor Heyerdahl's Kon-Tiki voyage showed that peoples from South American plausibly COULD have sailed west in balsa rafts to colonize parts of the South Pacific. Yet modern genetic evidence refutes that otherwise quite plausible scenario.

In the same way, the Chinese fleets COULD have made the voyages, they seem to have had the technical capability of doing so. But due to various whims of history, it seems clear that they didn't. It doesn't change the entertaining nature of the book, which is compelling and interesting as a work of scholarship and conviction, as is Kon-Tiki. But a compelling argument presented in narrative form is not the same as a true one backed up by hard evidence.

Here is a very useful article from the Nautical Research Guild about carronades. Among other things, it includes this answer to your question (emphasis mine):

The true carronade was mounted on a carriage of completely new design, secured to its bed by means of a bolt through a loop cast on the underside of the piece. The bed recoiled along a slide, held in place by means of another bolt in a slot. The slide pivoted on a bolt in the ship's side and traversed on small rollers at the rear end of the slide. The gun was elevated by means of a wooden wedge, known as a quoin, or a screw placed through the cascabel, or button or knob, at the end of the gun. It was trained by means of traversing bars or training ropes. When fired, the carronade recoiled, pushing the bed back along the slide and against the breeching ropes. After reloading the carronade, the crew would use the side tackles to return it to firing position.

 

In  other words, the piece recoils far enough along its slide to allow muzzle-loading. I've also seen it suggested online that the piece could be rotated far enough around, to the left or right on its swivel point, to allow reloading that way, though I've no idea if that's actually true. Seems to slow and too much bother.

You might also look at the Model Shipways deck carronade kit for detail on how such pieces were rigged:

In all fairness, many of us are able to build our models because the reverse is also true, even if husband doesn't rhyme with anything catchy. Happy spouse, happy house?

After a week of cogitation, I decided to move forward on the hull planking using my best judgement and artistic license. Without absolute proof in any direction, I determined that THIS Bertrand's builders would do best to follow the natural line of the hull, making planking as simple as possible for the basic carpentry skills and simple raw materials available (both in real life and in this budget-constrained model).

I clamped a series of planking strips to the horizontal portion of the hull, to get spacing right, and then extended the fourth one up toward the bow in the most natural curve it would follow (above left). Marking this on the frames with a pencil, I then started cutting planks to length and installing them with wood glue and clamps. Above right, you see five strakes of planking installed. Sorry for the photo quality, this was indoors in evening. 

Here's the current bow, next to the best drawing I have from the archaeological documents (the latter flipped to match the photo's orientation). The lie of the planks clearly isn't the same, but I just couldn't figure out how to get the deck-parallel planking shown in the drawing with the geometry of the framing shown in other drawings. Not sure who's wrong; logically my bet's on me rather than the professionals, but who knows. Methods like stealers or aggressive spiling just didn't seem to match the likely approach and skill set of the folks actually building Bertrand, so I went with authentic approach if not result.

I actually like the sweeping curve on the model, at least from an aesthetic point of view. Also, as you'll notice, most of the bow is in fact covered by iron plating to help protect against river debris and snags, so relatively little of this will show anyway. I really appreciate all the folks who chimed in to discuss this question, and I hope my decision turns out acceptably to most viewers. Mrs. Cathead likes it, so there's that.

Finally, notice that on Bertrand, the planks have a scarf joint, not a butt joint. This I'm certain of, because there are photographs of it. So I did my planks the same way, although a bit simplified: Bertrand's planks have a fancy scarf with squared-off tips (look closely at the drawing), which I was not up for recreating at 1:87. So I just cut the angle all the way across and decided it was close enough. This is not, after all, an exquisite world-class museum model, just a farmer's hobby.

Clamping planks on this bow has been an interesting challenge. The guards, which I intentionally installed first in order to help guide planking, are also rather in the way of getting clamps down along the hull. The framing, being so close together, also makes it difficult to get clamps in. From a practical standpoint, I've been very happy with my decision to follow the easiest lie of planking, because the planks fit themselves, don't even need soaking, and require minimal clamping to stay put. This result certainly fits with the theme of building these boats the simplest way.

And here is the hull as of Saturday morning. I filled in the upper bow first, and am slowly working my way down and aft. I haven't done any filling or sanding, so any close-up look appears pretty rough. These planks are quite thin (1/32"), so I intend to do one sanding only when the whole thing is ready, and no more. But to my eyes at least, the pattern is pleasing and approximates authenticity.

Gonna be a busy weekend ahead, here's a fitting tune for this work: "Old Plank Road"

Won't get drunk no more
Won't get drunk no more
Won't get drunk no more
Way down the Old Plank Road

 

That depends on how the planking goes, but so far so good.

Keith, I'm afraid I have no idea, beyond basic internet searches I assume you've already done. Sorry!

Kurt

The deck/guard extensions are, at their outer edge, vertical. The frame below any given extension is not vertical, it's angled inward at something like 45 degrees. The plank on the outside of the guards bends mostly in two directions. It does not twist inward, only around the bow's curve (horizontal) and up with the sheer (gentle longitudinal). Whereas the hull itself has a sharp inward angle toward the center of the hull, which makes the bend of the sheer plank more complex. It's the same longitudinal curve, and the same curve around the bow, but the guard plank stays vertical while the hull plank also has to make a sharp bend inward around the narrowing of the hull. Does that make sense?

I'm using thin basswood planks, which are quite flexible. I have tried soaking and bending the planks, and they do not take the curve, they still bulge outward. I realize I may not be presenting this question clearly, especially if experts feel I shouldn't be having this problem, and will try to take better photos to illustrate the exact situation. 

Kurt, thanks so much for considering this! A few questions, after reviewing your photo and the instructions you linked to.

It appears Chaperon has little or no sheer at the bow? Bertrand has a fairly significant bow sheer, which seems to complicate the planking pattern. The deck at the stempost is almost twice as high as the deck at midships, while the hull's bottom remains flat along virtually its entire length. My understanding is, early builders mimicked ocean-going vessels in building a lot of sheer into the hull, which gradually vanished as they realized it wasn't necessary to river conditions. Bertrand is an 1864 boat, in the middle of this transition, while Chaperon is 1884.

From the images, it looks like Chaperon's hull/deck is much flatter, like a later boat should be, implying a lot less 3-D curvature to the sheer strake. On my hull, trying to keep the sheer strake parallel to the deck produces one heck of a bulge outward from the frames, because the strake has to sweep significantly upward while also twisting inward. On other hulls I've planked with a sheer rise like this, the frames are more convex outward rather than straight diagonal, accommodating the necessary twist to the plank. 

The Chaperon images look like the sheer strake is just bending in two dimensions, and the instructions also imply that the plank should lie naturally along the sheer. That is just not the case with this hull, whether it's how Bertrand was actually built or whether I somehow framed the bow in wrong. I don't think it's the latter; looking at Chaperon's bulkheads it has the same basic straight diagonal framing as Bertrand, it's just that the latter has so much more sheer to complicate the situation. But as it's my first try at a hull like this, anything's possible. Regardless, I ain't startin' over!

I agree that the stern won't be a problem, I've already test-fitted planks there without concern. The sheer is less severe and there's way less of an inward curve. Also, I won't be planking the underside of the hull, to increase interior visibility, so it's just the port side I have to get right.

So the question remains, was Chaperon's hull as flat as it seems, and was that why the planking was simpler? I've also looked at a really nice build of the USS Cairo, a river gunboat from the same period, which suggested earlier in this build and which appears to have the same diagonal framing. However, that build log doesn't show ANY photos of the hull planking, and it also appears to have very little bow sheer.

I really wish I could show a few of you this in person, it's really hard to describe in words and I wonder if I'm explaining it properly? 

Mark, thanks for the input and hope I'm not seeming argumentative. I'm going to keep thinking it over. The obsessive part of me is actually considering building a false bow with similar configuration to test out how each approach would actually look. In the meantime, I can let it simmer while I work on the decking.

Speaking of which, here's another update after the weekend's work:

While I think about planking, I've worked on filling in structure. The deck was mildly cambered, with deck beams resting on one longitudinal bulkhead running along the keelson. So the first step was to figure out how high I wanted this bulkhead (and thus the camber), and how to keep it fairly consistent along the run of the hull, rising with the sheer of the stem and stern from the flat central portion of the hull. I wanted the camber to last all the way to the stern, but naturally peter out into a smooth surface at the stempost. This appears to be accurate based on my sources.

I accomplished this the way I do many projects, by careful dead reckoning. I figured out the proper bulkhead height at the center of the hull, by test-fitting various stanchion lengths with deck beams resting on top until I got something that looked right. Then I cut a stringer the length of the hull, to act as the top of the bulkhead, and began gluing it onto stanchions of equal height along the flat center portion of the hull, letting both ends float free. Once that was dry, I began carefully cutting individual stanchions to increasing lengths, inserting them under the stringer one by one while test-fitting deck beams to ensure a smooth curve. The photos above show the stern end completed; if you look carefully down the hull, you can see the bow end still floating free. Then I did the same for the bow. This center bulkhead was finished with planking on the real Bertrand, dividing the hull into separate halves, but I'm omitting that for viewing clarity.

At some point I decided I was getting tired of having the hull loose on my work bench, so spot-glued a thick beam to the bottom of the hull, where my clamp can get a good grip. Big improvement; I can now swivel the hull to any orientation I need.

With the longitudinal bulkhead properly finished, and all support stanchions glued in, I began attaching deck beams, a repetitive but fairly easy process. Below is the final result, after a lot of sanding to produce smooth curves all the way around. Interestingly, the guards (which I intended to be level) ended up a bit gull-winged in places, angling inward slightly toward the deck camber. This annoyed me, until I happened to read in one of my sources that some period boats actually did have inward-sloping guards, though it's believed Bertrand didn't. It's barely noticeable, and at least it's authentic to the period if not the exact prototype.

After I was happy with the deck beams, I moved on to preparing a few more details. I framed in the five hatches (one at left stern, and two pairs centered about 40' from the stern and just aft of the bow). I intend to leave all these open. 

I have now reached the point that I have to make a decision on how to finish the model, no more waffling. I am sticking with my original goal, despite various forays into conjecture, of finishing the port side completely, and leaving the starboard side as open-framed as possible to allow views of the internal structure. I want to be able to photograph the model from certain angles and have it look realistically complete, but have in-person viewers be able to turn it around and look inside. Thus I will have to add much, but not all, of the decking (I may use piles of cargo to hide missing decking for photography in some places).

With this in mind, I added one more set of details. The deck beams and guards, as installed so far, are actually half as numerous as on the real boat. I decided to leave the deck beams as-is to facilitate interior views, but to fill in the guard supports on the starboard side for more realism. This accounts for the different you may already have noticed, but which is very clear in this overhead photo. Looking closely, you can also see the framed-in deck hatches, and the doubled-up deck beams which support the boiler, about 1/3 of the length from the bow.

The boat is nearly read for some decking, and is ready for planking on the port side once I decide how I want to do it. In the meantime, here's Alison Krauss & Union Station with the feelings of all Missouri after the last two months: "Rain, Please Go Away"!

You ok, Cap'n? Looking forward to new progress, hope all is well.

Mark,

So here's another part of the dilemma. Chalk it up to novice innocence or naivete, but I hadn't expected to do much spiling and didn't order any wider planks of the same thickness from which to cut such planks. I was operating under the assumption that planking would be straightforward if I followed the design of the original, since these boats were built by carpenters (not shipwrights) and were meant to be quick and easy to build. So I assumed (without really thinking about it) that the hull lines would naturally lead to an easy lie of planks, especially since the drawings I have imply such.

I'm on a really tight budget with this project, though I realize a few strips of wider material won't cost THAT much more, and so far my material estimates have been pretty close. Also, now that I see how the natural curve lies, it's not clear to me HOW to spile planks around this curve without starting with a really wide piece; the curve's pretty severe if you try to keep the strake roughly parallel to the deck. 

Final consideration, the hull will be painted white, which I think means the planking pattern won't be intensely obvious. So is it worth taking the more complicated (if maybe accurate) route only to cover it with paint, or take the easy, somewhat more artistic way, and cover it with paint?

Matt, my sight's bad enough without my eyes bugging out repeatedly at your work. Good grief.

Ken,

I'd like to use scale length planks for realism; I was only using the long strip to demonstrate the different strake positions lie on the hull. However, I'm also concerned that in option 1, the extra bending necessary would also make it harder to get lots of plank ends butted together properly; a long plank would be easier to control.

I've scratch-planked two hulls before, both small (see the links in my sig), but had no trouble with those regarding planks lying where they were supposed to. However, they both had traditional rounded hulls & frames.

Christian,

Thanks! I believe the Bertrand's passenger complement was around 80, not counting the poor souls in the steamboat equivalent of steerage, so there's plenty of room to come along.

Patrick,

Thanks, I'm really torn and will keep waiting for additional input in case someone has a new idea. The irony is, the bow is really the only place the hull is visible to normal viewers, and of course that's the place most affected by this.

Looking ahead, as I slowly make progress on the interior hull framing, I have a question about planking. The Bertrand has a somewhat unusual hull shape: the bow cant frames aren't curved, as in most sailing ships, but straight. This changes the geometry of how planks lie along the bow's curve, and I can't decide how to approach it.

Here are examples of two approaches I could use:

On the left, the approach that appears to match the archeological drawings I'm working from. The line of planking follows the curve of the deck, parallel to the guard extensions. This is also the most logical and straightforward way for the real builders to do it. However, the geometry formed by the straight frames means that the planks don't bend that way; if you make them follow the deck's curve, they bulge out at the bottom away from the frames. In other words, they lie as you'd expect them to over the curved frames of an ocean-going ship. 

On the right, the approach that makes physical sense: allowing the planks to naturally sweep up the curve of the bow so that they lie flat on the frames. This looks cool, but would be a lot more work for both me and the original builders. Information on exactly how steamboat hulls were planked has been very hard to find; they weren't visible to any photos, being so low to the water, and none of my references discuss in any detail HOW the hulls were planked.

So what do I do? Is there a third approach I haven't considered?

Wefalck, I apologize that I was not able to find two photographs of a perfectly comparable model railroad scene only with different levels of detail. Perhaps if I had spent hours sorting through stacks of old magazines, rather than a few pages of Google Image results. The point was simply to show the difference between a detailed and a spare scene. There are also sparely detailed urban scenes and highly detailed rural scenes, but I didn't feel the need to hunt any further for perfect examples for a free blog comment.

As you note, this relates to the historical prototype being modeled, though I dispute your claim that "modern" landscapes are inherently less cluttered. As we both likely agree, to an extent the question of "how much detail" comes down to the spectrum between art and documentary. Do you intend to represent, or recreate? 

One more comparative analogy between two artists I enjoy, Don Troiani  and George Caleb Bingham, both of whom portrayed realistic historical scenes. The former paints incredibly detailed works which are accurate down to the sheen on the belt buckles. The latter painted softer works that were representatively accurate but far sparer in detail. I will forbear giving specific examples to avoid more controversy. Both are attractive and accurate, but each conveys the theme in a different way, and each is instantly recognizable in its time and place.

Part of what I'm trying to argue is that what IS realistic and what LOOKS realistic are not always the same. Thus, in my opinion, sometimes it behooves modelers to leave out details even if they are correct, if they will detract from the overall impression made on the viewer. This is the same process by which a painting may look realistic even if inherently less detailed than the pixel depth of a photograph.

Having been a model railroader for a long time informs my perspective on detail. 

For example, there are people who build super-detailed model railroads where every square inch is filled with some kind of "thing". Clutter, figures, mini-scenes. These layouts are like Where's Waldo pages. You can never stop looking at them, there is always more to see. Here is an example:

There are other people who build layouts which are realistic but sparing with detail. They use empty space and careful focus to draw the eye to specific things while allowing the brain to fill in the rest. Like this:

I am of the opinion that too much detail can be counterproductive. I feel that the eye has a natural tendency to fill in missing information, and that part of the art of modelling is to fool the eye into seeing what it wants to see. I much prefer the latter form of model railroad, because it tends to look more realistic to me.

The former may actually be more realistic in terms of the amount of visual clutter in the real world, but my eye at least sees the modeled version as "too much", whereas a spare but careful use of accurate, quality detail looks much more realistic to me overall. The eye is very, very good at picking out things that don't belong, whether it's details out of scale, plasticky-looking figures, etc., but also very good at filling in empty space. 

I agree with those who list priorities, and skill, as important factors. If you like making super details, and can use them in a consistent way, go for it. A good example of excellent super-detailing is the Bounty Launch by matt.s.s. which I recently followed to completion. It has superb detail without overwhelming the visual impression. But you can also eliminate many details and allow the viewer to fill them in naturally (or not notice their absence), through the judicious use of proper detail.

In literature, one might call this the difference between Dumas, Dickens, or Hugo (extremely detailed but sometimes ponderous) and Hemingway (precise but spare). I actually enjoy all those authors, but tend to be a Hemingway when modelling. Yet to each their own, as long as you and your intended audience are pleased with the process and results.

I especially like the framework. It'd almost be a shame to cover it, but cover it, you must, I'm sure

 

Interesting concept... an Admiralty style riverboat.....

 

I've mooted that idea before in this build, and am still rolling it around in my head. If I had ever intended to cover all of it, I would have just built bulkheads and been MUCH further along by now. The initial concept was, and still is, to leave one side unplanked including hull and superstructure. I had wanted to be able to pose it from one angle and have it look complete and realistic, while from another angle you could see inside.

But I keep reconsidering. As this takes shape, the idea keeps flitting around to do something drastic like not plank at all and just build the whole thing as an open framework including all the cabins and such. In that case I would do just enough decking to support necessary machinery. Of course that decisions puts me on the hook to build some really detailed machinery and that scares me a bit.

I've also joked to Mrs Cathead about displaying the hull as a under-construction diorama, but I really want to build the superstructure, too, one way or another.

Thanks to all of you. This is a really, really fun build and I'm glad there's some interest in it. While you wait for the next addition, here's another good river song, Big Scioty: 

Quick update:

The boatyard is hosting a special visit from the owner's wife and other important ladies. Pretty hard to climb around all that framing in corsets and hoop skirts.

Progress made, all the guards (extensions of the deck beyond the hull) are in place. Really starting to show the boat's final shape now.

Next up, installing bulkheads along the centerline (on top the keelson), slightly higher than the guards to support the deck's camber. Then deck stringers to complete the hull framing.