Cathead

American western river steamboats represent a unique form of shipbuilding. Designed and built on the American frontier during the core of the 19th century, such boats rapidly evolved to fit the specific needs of the great inland river systems that drained inland North America. In this build I will replicate a typical specimen of this design, the steamboat Bertrand, trying to accurately duplicate the features of these fascinating vessels. I hope you’ll follow along, both to enjoy the construction, and to learn about this obscure but fascinating (to me, at least) part of maritime transportation history. These boats are almost, but not entirely, unlike an ocean-going vessel of the same period, in large part due to the demands of their specific riverine habitat. Below, my updated workbench with Bertrand profile on the wall for inspiration.
 

 
The “western” in western river steamboat refers to the landscape between the Appalachian and Rocky Mountains. Over the course of the 19th century, this area went from the mostly unknown wilderness of Lewis & Clark’s 1804 expedition up the Missouri River, to a land mostly settled and integrated into the United States by the dawn of the 20th century. Most of this landscape centers on the Mississippi River basin, including its major tributaries such as the Ohio and Missouri Rivers. This system drains over 1 million square miles (almost 3 million square km), covering parts of 31 American states and 2 Canadian provinces. Almost all the rivers in the system were navigable in the 19th century for most of their lengths, creating a vast trade and transportation network across the continent’s interior long before railroads appeared on the scene, when roads were all but non-existent (map below from National Park Service).
 

 
The Bertand, built in 1864 and sunk in 1865, was a wholly typical and unremarkable western river steamer, except for its rediscovery beneath a US Wildlife Refuge along the Iowa/Nebraska border in 1968. The boat and its cargo were remarkably well-preserved, due to quick burial beneath river sediment by the quickly changing channel of the Missouri River, and the anoxic environment thus produced. The Bertrand’s mint-condition cargo is now on display at a fascinating museum at the DeSoto National Wildlife Refuge, which also hosts a detailed large-scale model of the craft (shown below). The archeological excavation of the craft resulted in a plethora of information about period steamboat construction. In pairing with the later, but similar, discovery of the sunken steamboat Arabia along the Kansas/Missouri border and subsequent founding of a similar museum in Kansas City, the two wrecks represent a spectacular repository of historical and maritime knowledge and preservation. Below, the gorgeous large-scale model of Bertrand at DeSoto (FWS photo).
 

 
I live and farm near the Missouri River, and have long been fascinated by the history of its steamboats. My first-ever attempt at wooden ship modeling was a scratchbuilt version of the Far West, perhaps the most famous of its class, a sternwheeler which ascended the Missouri and Yellowstone Rivers to extraordinary distances, and carried General Custer’s troops to and from the infamous Battle of Little Big Horn. The Bertrand is a similar craft to the Far West, which was built to ascent the shallow, treacherous river to Montana, while the Arabia was a sidewheeler more typical  of the lower Missouri River below Omaha, Nebraska (and the Ohio and Mississippi). I had initially intended to build the Arabia next, but due to a lack of available plans, and my inability to make it to Kansas City to do research at her eponymous museum, I changed my focus to the Bertrand. Below, my model of the Far West for context:
 

 
I’ve had plans for the Bertrand for several years, having purchased them at the same time as my Far West plans, and consulted them on that project. Now, the goal is a similar boat but at much greater detail: I would like to build the Bertrand frame-by-frame, just as initially constructed in the riverside yards at Wheeling, West Virginia. I have a shelf of texts on western steamboat history and construction, and several more detailed references on the excavation of the Bertrand on order through inter-library loan. I intend to leave one side of the hull unplanked, and possibly the same side of the superstructure, to show full detail throughout. Below, longitudinal internal section of the Bertrand from the plans I'll be using.
 

 
I hope you’ll join me on this (likely) wordy trek through a relatively unknown period of American maritime history and design. Few other steamboats grace this site, so I'd like to fill the gap a little with this project. I’ll try to interweave build details with explanations and demonstrations of why the boat was designed and built the way it was, to give context to this project and help share my love of these steamboats and their (my) home. This project is a significant undertaking for me, a serious step up from my previous Bounty launch kit and various smaller and less-detailed scratchbuilding efforts. I hope to be open to suggestion and advice, and I hope readers will be patient with the slow progress I'll likely make as I juggle this project with the summertime demands on my time, as well as the budget necessary to do this with my uncertain income as a self-employed farmer and writer. Welcome aboard, and unlike most boats of this type, we'll hope this one doesn't sink or blow up on the journey! 
 
UPDATE: Build completed and index available.
I finished this project in January 2016, and compiled an index of the general steps involved, with links to each one. You can review the build index here, in a post at the end of this log.

Good idea George.

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):
 
 
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:
 

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):
 
 
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:
 

Hey Ken, I think my light magnifier is like 6X or so. It's got the fully articulating arm so I can get right up on my work. I just don't think the Optivisor would allow me to keep an eye on the doors and windows while I work. I gotta watch out for anti-squirrel snipers!

First on the agenda was to change the look of the circular platform. I considered painting the vertical section black or cover it with blackened brass. I settled with widening the sides by three layers and a final top layer. This helped with the final look being larger, helping balance the slide and base.

 
Next was the block debacle: use kit supplied blocks, or make my own. Physical measurements prove that all the kit blocks were up to 1mm too large. So Tiny and I took the leap and decided to make our own.
 
In CaptainSteve's Kit Bashers Guide, there were some examples of this process that I tweaked a little. The blocks are about 1mm less in width than in height.
 
This set was for making 4 single blocks and 4 double blocks, all being 3mm high and 2mm wide. Walnut strips were cut to the 2mm width and then marks were drawn 3mm apart. 1mm strips were CA'd in place and then the tiny little pieces in between were glued in as well(simulating a center wheel). A 2mn strip was then glued on top.

 
The first 4 were cut off since they are single blocks. The process was repeated again, making a kind of Big Mac look.

 
All blocks were then cut apart and the job of shapeing began. The space above and below the tiny center piece were carefully drilled out the the block was shaped to 3mmx2mm. The space between the two holes were then cleaned up, with the final step being to burnish the blocks.

 
In total for the 12 pounder were: 8 double blocks 4mmx3mm, 4 double blocks 3mmx2mm and 4 single blocks 3mmx2mm. Now is time to begin rigging up the 12pounder. We'll see how long this takes. Til next time...

Well, the squirrels forge ahead, slowly filling the decks with the necessary fittings to set sail. All the while, Tiny and I have been working on the 12 pounder.

The Nutz and Bawls Clans seem to have put any differences aside since their 4th of July festivities. Red and Woodie set up a production line for making and installing the many bits and eye bolts. Harry took the job of securing the elm tree pump, putting a temporary pipe in place until the perfect elm is found.
 

I sent Tiny off to the scrap heap for parts while I began work on the carriage. A hole was drilled for the trunion and a brass rod was soldered in. The sides were shaped and drilled while clamped together, and brass rods were inserted. After the cannon was fit, brass spacers were added to ensure that everything stays square.
 

Tiny returned with some watch parts that we decided to use to make the gun turret. Wood was built on both top and bottom of the parts to elevate the cannon. A brass rod was put through both pieces, and brass watch gears were soldered to its ends to secure everything together, and still be turnable. Trunion caps were made and installed to secure the cannon to the carriage.
 
Finally, we made the slide rail and placed everything together to see how she fits. The shiny brass is just for now, everything will be blackened and buffed out for the 'aged' look. There's still much work to be done. Until next time...

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"
 

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

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"
 

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

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"
 

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

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?

Very true, also. Well said.

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?

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?

Absolutely! Happy wife, happy life. :D

The correctness of your decision on the planking is summed up beautifully in your statement: "Mrs Cathead likes it". What higher authority could there be?

She's really coming on nicely, Cathead.
 
John

Looking good, Cathead.  Your planking has me smiling....

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"
 

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

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"
 

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

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"
 

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

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"!
 

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
 
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.