Chapman

A few years ago I built a model of a Galeotta on a scale of 1:87 (HO) built from pear wood. This model required a number of oars of small size. I made them out of thin cocktail sticks. I carefully hammered out the ends of those sticks with the addition of highly diluted wood glue. After drying, sometimes a few more times. See the photo.
1 cocktail stick of 1 mm thick
2 removed the tip
3 the end flattened with a hammer and provided with diluted wood glue
4 Further hammering made the blade longer and could then be cut into the right shape.
5 Fitting the oars with the handles
 
 
The oars attached to the fuselage. The ship with full sails and the oars up




Constant

The rigging.
 
The rigging is less complicated than the rigging on more masted ships, but is basically the same.
A big difference is the absence of lanyards and deadeyes. During my research I came to the solution that this construction is an invention which dates from the first half of the fifteenth century. Original mediaeval pictures show everywhere an other construction which is surprisingly the same as used on ships with latin sails, which were used until the last part of the nineteenth century. This cog was build in 1320, so long before the invention of lanyards and deadeyes.
 
One of the reconstructed cogs was build in Kiel in Germany. While testing  its sail capabilities it appeared the ship could sail up to 70 degrees by wind abeam. In this position the sail would grate over the shrouds. The shrouds on that ship are equipped with lanyards and deadeyes, which I believe is not correct, so the shrouds could not be removed in case of grating.
Shrouds on ships with latin sails can be removed while sailing. A part of the shrouds on leeward can be removed while the ship is sailing abeam. This is possible with the help of the construction as drawn in the sketch nr 1. A stick (Dutch; knevel) can be pulled out in the connection of two parts of the shroud which both end in a noose. On both sides of the ship are mostly four shrouds as drawn in nr 2. The shrouds windward can of course not be removed, but with some of the shrouds leeward it is possible.
 
 
 
1                                                                                                                                                  
 
2
 

The model without the yard, but with the shrouds.
 
On port-side the four shrouds are all fastened, on starboard only two. The other two are hanging alongside the mast. In this case the wind will come abeam the portside.
This construction is on ships with latin sails always usual, but it is also possible on cogs. Old mediaval illustrations of ships show this solution.
Ships with latin sails have a different rigging because of the possibility of setting the sails and yards in other positions which move around the foreside the masts. But the shroud construction is the same as on cogs.
It is obvious that ratlines are impossible with this type of rigging. Ratlines in shrouds can not be found on ships before the first part of the fifteenth century.
 
The rest
 
On the model I made two anchors. Made of brass. I sawed them from brass plate, thick 2,5 mm. After filing and sanding in the correct proportions,  blades of thin brass,  were soldered on it. After that I painted them in colour Matt  46, from Revell. All iron pieces on the models I make are painted in this color. Never black.
 
The sailors on the model are from “Lehman HO pirates 90-2025”. Usually I do not place figures, but this model goes to a museum here in town. For visitors it is in this way easier to compare the human proportions.
 
I never paint my models, only the sails.
 
The finished model gives an impression of how those ships looked like. It is a reconstruction, so there always will be the possibility of other opinions.
 
The following pictures give an impression of teh finished model.
Cogs had an unsusual construction of the hull. The ends of the  beams inside the ship came out the side of the ships hull. This can be seen on the next illustrations.
 

 u

Hi Micha!
 
There are plans of Japanese ship/boat types in Admiral Paris Souvenirs de Marine 1882 - 1892.
I think that with a little searching you can also find his plancollection in digital form on the Internet.
 
Joerg

Hi Micha!
 
There are plans of Japanese ship/boat types in Admiral Paris Souvenirs de Marine 1882 - 1892.
I think that with a little searching you can also find his plancollection in digital form on the Internet.
 
Joerg

I can’t escape the fact that I continue to fail at this chain-making exercise.  As the old maxim goes, though, every failure is one step closer to success.
 
I’ve now thrown away two whole batches of chain preventer plates.  While I was quite right to follow Andre Kudin’s example, for the process of their manufacture, I eventually discovered that that process is not entirely transferable from 1:48 to 1:96 scale.
 
After forming his basic links, Andre solders them closed at one end, and then places the closed link back onto the two pins so that he can crimp an eye on each end with his round pliers.
 
Well, the 28 gauge brass wire I’m using does not provide enough surface area for a strong enough bond to survive the crimping.  My success to failure ratio was pretty poor:

So, my lesson from that exercise was that I needed to do the crimping before soldering one end closed:

These soldered loops will be the lowest end of the chains, bolted into the wales.  That way, I could induce a series of bends into the upper half of each preventer plate, so that they could overlay the next small link:

Above I’m just using another preventer plate to check that the bends I’m making are sufficient.
 
So, I spent a good chunk of time cleaning up the solder and inducing bends into the remainder of the preventer plates.  The solder joint will be re-enforced with the CA glue that fixes the pin-bolt in place:

With that out of the way, I could make a new, slightly closer-spaced pin jig for the next small link, which is only crimped on one end, where it seats beneath the preventer plate.
 
Now that I have a process that I know will work, and now that I’ve had all of this practice, these next links should go fairly quickly:


I have a lot of these to make, solder and bend - about 70 to ensure I can use the best.  This has all been a colossal PITA, but it was really important to me that all of this look very clean and uniformly shaped.  In the process, I have acquired some very valuable metal skills that will only enhance this and future projects.
 
That said, I am going to experiment with using black nylon thread of an appropriate diameter to connect the deadeye strop loops to the small links.  This would essentially be a variation on the way that the stock kit represents these links, but I will do individual chain loops that draw tight with some form of slip-knot that I can pull up and hide behind the deadeye strop.
 
Andre had a great method for producing these variances, but it is all just that much more tedious in the smaller scale.
 
The advantages of doing this are several.  So long as there is not a jarring difference in appearance between the black thread and the blackened metal, it will save me tremendous amounts of time.  It also simplifies the difficulty of accurately measuring and keeping track of a series of increasingly longer links as the shroud angle increases from fore to aft.  Lastly, it greatly simplifies the placement of the deadeyes because I can add the retaining strip, in advance, and it also makes it much easier to locate and properly secure the bottom two links.  Hopefully, that will work out.  
 
Well, I keep saying that I’m going to get back in the swing of the project, and then I get sucked into coaching another basketball team - now my son’s Spring rec team.  Meanwhile, the Rangers and Knicks are just too compelling to ignore this post-season.  At least for now, I can see the end of the tunnel for these chains, which is tremendously motivating, and then I can return to the more immediately gratifying work of outfitting and arming the main deck.
 
Thank you all for taking the time to look back in on This Old Build.  More to come!
 

Why not build another Spanish three-decker like that, based on better sources and a modern reconstruction?  The Nuestra Señora de la Concepción y de las Ánimas! 
The reconstruction made it into the spanish naval museum, and Dusek (MSW partner) released a kit of it.
 

Why not build another Spanish three-decker like that, based on better sources and a modern reconstruction?  The Nuestra Señora de la Concepción y de las Ánimas! 
The reconstruction made it into the spanish naval museum, and Dusek (MSW partner) released a kit of it.
 

Why not build another Spanish three-decker like that, based on better sources and a modern reconstruction?  The Nuestra Señora de la Concepción y de las Ánimas! 
The reconstruction made it into the spanish naval museum, and Dusek (MSW partner) released a kit of it.
 

Why not build another Spanish three-decker like that, based on better sources and a modern reconstruction?  The Nuestra Señora de la Concepción y de las Ánimas! 
The reconstruction made it into the spanish naval museum, and Dusek (MSW partner) released a kit of it.
 

Why not build another Spanish three-decker like that, based on better sources and a modern reconstruction?  The Nuestra Señora de la Concepción y de las Ánimas! 
The reconstruction made it into the spanish naval museum, and Dusek (MSW partner) released a kit of it.
 

From the French site Drouot.com.
 
The 28-gun "La Tourterelle", or "The Turtledove" - a wonderful name for a man of war - was captured in 1795 by the 32-gun frigate HMS Lively. While the two ships seem to have been a close match for each other, Tourterelle mounted only 8-pounders on her lower deck, while Lively mounted 18-pounders on hers. But the stubborn frenchman just didn't want to give up, and only struck after heavy casualties. Historian William James reported 18 dead and 25 seriously wounded.  Tourterelle reportedly even used an oven to heat hot-shot in the action, but to no avail. The painting, a watercolor wash on paper, ("lavis sur papier") shows her at the conclusion of the action, greatly damaged, have lost much of her top-hamper. Tourterelle was a sister ship to L'Unite' - later HMS Surprise. Her draught survives in the NMM and is, IMHO, the prettiest sloop there, and she and the painting closely agree on all the details! She was broken up in 1816.
 
https://drouot.com/fr/l/10996015
 
To see a full screen, click the black bar marked, "Voir les Resultats" ("See the results"), then click the four-arrow tab on the left.

Hi John,
Regarding rigging colors ... just for information, how rigging looks like on replica ,for example...and of couse, no any light colors for ratlines, lanyards and any other running and standing rigging lines...
A few days ago I visited replica of W.Barenrz ship - it stays in Harlingen, Netherlands...and in September made short voyage under sails... everything went very good, as those people said ...

James A. Flood
 
By the mid-1600s, it was taken for granted that warships had to look awesome. Decorations were no longer being painted or tacked on, but were being incorporated into the ship’s architecture. Louis XIV and his ministers were obsessed with having French ships look bigger and richer than their British counterparts. They hired the best artists in France to design statues, friezes, and decorative woodwork. Louis’s chief minion, Minister Jean-Baptiste Colbert, engaged artist Charles Le Brun to design statuary for Versailles, and when Colbert was given the additional position of Minister of Marine in 1669, he made Le Brun responsible for the decoration of  the king’s newly-built fleet of ships-of-the-line as well. Le Brun set up sculpture academies in the shipbuilding centers of Brest, Toulon, and Rochefort to train the army of sculptors needed. The task of designing the architecture and decoration for the ships was assigned to the same artists who worked on the palace of Versailles, like Jean Bérain, and they churned out preparatory drawings to be given to the sculptors.
 

 
The Italian-trained artist Pierre Puget was appointed head sculptor at the shipyard in Toulon after notable success decorating France’s Mediterranean galley fleet. His fanciful statues and designs for the new warships were inspired by Italian theater sets. This was an age when popular stage productions were growing more elaborate. Opera had been newly invented. Music specifically for the stage was being composed. The palace of Versailles had its own theater and the king and his aristocrats took part in the productions. Puget’s theatrical shipboard tableaux were immediately popular and widely copied. They looked a lot like opera backdrops.
 

Two of Puget's ship designs. You kind of expect someone to come out on the balcony and start singing . . . . 
 
Puget’s sculptures were unquestionably awesome, but were also huge, heavy, and for the most part impractical. His boss, Le Brun, refused several of his designs with the note that they were “very handsome but not at all convenient for ships.” It was because of Puget’s extreme theatricality that Le Brun issued an order in 1673 indicating that sterns would not be allowed to carry figures so big that they affected the stability of the ship. Puget resigned in 1679, but one of the 1689 Bérain drawings of the Soleil Royal has the scribbled notation that it was made “apres Pierre Puget.” This caused at least one 19th-century French ship historian to attribute all of the Soleil Royal’s sculptures to Puget, in spite of evidence to the contrary. (Puget worked in Toulon; the Soleil Royal was built in Brest.)
 

 
Instead of Puget, it’s fairly easy to connect the carvings on the Soleil Royal to the work of Charles Le Brun. Most of the figures turn out to be adaptations of Le Brun’s sculptural work at Versailles, especially his statues designed for the Versailles gardens in the grand commande (great commission) of 1674. The statues on the ship were originally made with Puget’s grandiosity in mind, but were later “adjusted” in size—in some cases replaced, in others, hollowed out—to reduce the weight and improve the ship’s stability. In a further effort to improve the ship’s handling, several of the larger statues were unshipped by Admiral De Tourville and left behind when the flagship went to war. These carvings were available for reuse on the Soleil Royal II, built in 1693. The new ship’s builder, Étienne Hubac, had been responsible for rebuilding the Soleil Royal I in 1689 and still had all of les garabits (templates and patterns) for the revised statuary. And so (we suppose), the second ship was decorated much like the first.
 

 
There’s a weird thing about the symbolism and statuary on the Soleil Royal— well, weird for 1693— and that’s the ship’s total lack of Christian motifs and symbols. We’re used to thinking of the Baroque era as a religious age, one dominated by cardinals and cathedrals, sacred relics, bible-inspired art, witch-finders, and endless Catholic-Protestant wars. The hierarchy of the church was at the top of the social heap and kings wielded their power by divine right. The open-minded period of the Enlightenment was over half a century in the future.
 
But without being terribly anti-clerical about it, along came Louis XIV with his aristocrats, retainers, bureaucrats, and artisans, and overt Christianity suddenly took a back seat to a revived interest in pre-Christian classical paganism. Instead of Christ, angels, and saints, the denizens of Versailles were more fascinated by gods, demigods, and caesars. In paintings, Louis had himself and his family portrayed as characters out of classical mythology.
 

Louis and his over-extended family . . . . just another day of lounging around like Olympian gods.
 
I’m sure the whys and hows are the subject of numerous books I’ll never get around to reading. For the time being, though, we can contemplate how all this influenced the decorations on Louis’s warships.
 
What was in the art on the Soleil Royal? What did it represent? What did it all mean? Why was it there?
 
First point—the art was meant to be symbolism. It consisted of elements meant to be read for their symbolic value by a largely unlettered population. Everybody back then was used to reading symbolism. It was all over their churches. Even if they couldn’t read, the populace knew all the bible stories by looking at the statuary, paintings, icons, altarpieces, carvings, and stained-glass that decorated their houses of worship. Every saint has his/her symbols for identification. Every condition or attribute had its own visual elements for storytelling purposes. The carvings on the Soleil Royal didn’t use Christian iconography, but the same principles applied. Artists like Le Brun even had textbooks of common iconography they could consult, like Caesar Ripa’s Iconologia, which described in detail what visual attributes went with which allegorical or historic figures.
 

Caesar Ripa's Iconologia.
 
Next point—this was Louis’s ship. Louis XIV was an absolute monarch, and when he famously proclaimed “L’État, c’est moi,” he meant it. The ships as well as the state were his, and the most important (gilded) artistic elements on the ship proclaimed his ownership. First, there was his Bourbon coat-of-arms on the bow and the stern, Azure, three fleurs-de-lys or—three gold fleur d’lis on a blue field, topped by a crown to indicate royalty. The fleurs would be repeated many places on the ship. On my model, white, open-faced fleurs (lilies seen from the top) are used on the quarter deck/forecastle level. There was also the king’s monogram, two intertwined, mirrored “L”s, also topped with a crown and surrounded by acanthus stems and chains of bellflowers, on the length of the upper gundeck. On the quarter galleries, the monograms are surrounded with a classical-antiquity-inspired laurel crown. You couldn’t go ten feet in any direction on this ship without being reminded it was Louis’s. The name itself, “the Royal Sun,” was one of his self-aggrandizing unofficial titles.
 

Whose ship was it again?
 
Louis himself is represented several times. The beaming face of the Sun King surrounded by solar rays appears on the headrail medallions and on the dormers of the quarter galleries—looking out from the four quarters of the ship. These were all elements I chose to paint as if they were gilded on my model. The same devices are always gilded where they appear at Versailles.
 

Right, the face of the Sun King at Versailles, same as on the ship.
 
Louis also starred in the most distinctive piece of décor on the ship—the Apollo solar chariot frieze on the stern-plate. The zodiac frieze above the chariot and the clouds below it show that the tableau is supposed to be occurring in the heavens, far above lowly Earth. Louis, as Apollo, drives the solar chariot on its daily celestial path. He's not carrying the sun. He is the sun. The gold leaf would have blazed in daylight. The frieze was patterned after the Apollo fountain, a major sculptural group by Charles Le Brun in the gardens of Versailles. Louis was supposedly a devout Catholic who did a lot to enhance the power of the church, including expelling all French protestants. I don’t know how he managed to reconcile his devotion with presenting himself as an Olympian god. 
 

Charles Le Brun's Apollo fountain at Versailles.
 
Charles Le Brun was responsible for the other sculptural groups on the ship’s stern. He designed four statues for the gardens of Versailles to represent the four seasons. Variations of these serve as pillars between the ship's middle deck and upper deck balconies. Louis was being advertised as literally, a “king for all seasons.” 
 

Le Brun's original design drawings for the Four Seasons, Autumn, Spring, Summer, and Winter. The statues were executed by hired sculptors. I don't know where or if the statues survived. They no longer seem to be at Versailles.
 
At the bottoms of the quarter galleries are mermen, two split-tailed tritons from classical mythology. These were often used on French ship décor. Their function was to hail Louis as master of the seas. The ship’s figurehead is a classical winged sea nymph on the back of a sea horse (literally, a mer-horse with a fish tail)—a herald for the procession of royal emblems to follow. Another nautical-themed element was the bevy of scallop shells. The ribs on the scallops represented the sun’s rays, so they worked as one of Louis’s solar symbols as well as a symbol of the sea.
 

 
Surrounding the stern plate are allegorical figures representing the four continents (as they were known at the time), representing the wide overseas reach of French power. Reclining atop the zodiac frieze above the Apollo chariot are the figures of Europe, port, in classical garb with a horse, and Asia, starboard, in “eastern” dress, a turban, and a camel. On the lower port of the stern-plate is a female figure representing the Americas, in a straw skirt and feather crown. Starboard is the figure of Africa, with a distinct elephant-head headdress. These, too, are variants on Le Brun’s Versailles sculptures. The figures of the Americas and Africa on the Soleil Royal have exactly the same headdresses. This and the Apollo's chariot frieze are the strongest links between the ship's sculpture and Charles Le Brun. Pierre Puget—sorry, nope!
 

Charles Le Brun, the Four Continents. Still on display at Versailles.
 
In the Heller kit, I felt that the two figures on the lower stern-plate corners were too large and not very attractive to boot. I needed a smaller Africa and the Americas.
 

 
I went looking for other model figures to use. What size was okay? I thought 1/48 (O scale)—about 10–12 feet in 1/100— was about the largest that would be reasonable. After an internet search, I focused on some 3D-printed figures by a company named Printle on the Shapeways.com website. Some were copies of classical statues. Some were female nudes. They were cheap enough; I ordered a few.
 

The quality was good. The plastic was easy to cut, so I could make adjustments to the positions of arms and legs. I added clothing (not much, admittedly) and headdresses with scraps of styrene. The figures might not be identical to the ones in the Bérain drawings, but neither is the ship. I think these figures work fine.
 

 

 
Shapeways also supplied me with figures to make the two missing statues shown on the Cherbourg Library drawing of the quarter galleries. The starboard one (the only one shown in the Cherbourg drawing) was Kronos, “Father Time,” the Greek-mythology titan, first king of the Olympian gods, whose symbols were a scythe and an hourglass. The figure I got from Shapeways was a standing figure of Zeus. I cut and re-glued the figure at neck, waist, and knees to give him more of a sitting posture and replaced Zeus’s thunderbolt with Kronos’s scythe. Why was Kronos there? What did he represent? What did he have to do with the sun-god Apollo? I don’t know if I ever found a good answer. In mythology, Kronos reigned during the “golden age” (this is where we get the term) before he was slain and replaced by his son Zeus, who in turn was the father of Apollo. So Kronos was Apollo’s grandfather. And his “golden age” might be considered to have returned under the reign of his “grandson,” Apollo-Louis.
 

 
It didn’t make sense to repeat the same statue on the port side. Another accompanying figure was needed. What figure went along with Kronos, though? I decided it had to be Rhea, Kronos’s consort, first queen of the gods, Apollo’s grandmother, who served as midwife for the sun-god’s birth. Rhea’s main symbolic attributes were a mural crown (representing fortress walls) and a chariot drawn by lions. I opted to give my figure the crown and forget about the lions. Again, I used a nude Shapeways figure and dressed her somewhat with scrap styrene.
 

 
I think I’ve caught everyone up on my Heller model to the present. Posts from me are going to get less frequent from now on. I’m busy right now working—and re-working—the masts and rigging. I’m on my fourth try at installing foremast shrouds. Man, I thought building the hull was tough. It’s nothing compared to the complexity of the rigging. Slow process. I thought I’d be done with this model in a year. Now I’m giving it two.
 
My model has grown a beard. It’s all the lines running from the forecastle pin rails and deck cleats. I figured I’d better tie them in before the foremast shrouds go on and get in the way. I belayed the lines according to a rigging plan, so I know what each line is and where it is going to go once the masts and yardarms are up. Most of the lines are three feet or more in length.
 

 

 
As far as postings go, there’s still a discussion of deck furniture to do, which I’ll put off once more. And my rigging diagram is in a constant state of re-evolution as I absorb stuff from Jean Boudroit's monograph The Three-Decker of the Chevalier De Tourville. You’ll find out more about that next time, whenever that will be. With the holidays coming up, it’s hard to tell how much modeling time I'll have.
 
Happy Meleagris gallopavo day. The bird formerly known as turkey. Let’s all be respectful with our culinary nomenclature this Thanksgiving and eat some nice roast gallopavo with stuffing. And have fun building and rigging model ships over the holiday. 
 
Speaking of turkeys—
 

Yes, thats the 1799 Enterprize or Enterprise as 1806 under David Porter.
This picture by Antoine Roux actually has a text under the ship with the exact date in 1806 and David Porter as Capt. are called. Another picture by the same artist and the ship, also in 1806, shows the other side of the ship and, as I already mentioned, in motion.
These two images are the most detailed and credible images of the ship.

The number and placement of the existing gun ports are interesting.
There are 7 gun ports but obviously none, not even a locked one next to or in front of the foremast.

 
 

Chapelle himself presented a plan for the superior in one of his books. There is probably a english made plan and a picture of the Superieur, it is possible that the above plan reconstruction of the Enterprize 1806 is based on this plan. However, we know that, among other things, the stern of the Enterprize was rebuilt before the shipyard in Venice, so it must have originally looked different and was therefore not completely identical to the Superieur. However, there are 2 pictures ( One portside at anchor and one underway from starboard ) of the Enterprize from the Roux family from the time after the renovation in Venice and still in the Mediterranean. which then show a strong similarity to the Superieur.

Yes, thats the 1799 Enterprize or Enterprise as 1806 under David Porter.
This picture by Antoine Roux actually has a text under the ship with the exact date in 1806 and David Porter as Capt. are called. Another picture by the same artist and the ship, also in 1806, shows the other side of the ship and, as I already mentioned, in motion.
These two images are the most detailed and credible images of the ship.

The number and placement of the existing gun ports are interesting.
There are 7 gun ports but obviously none, not even a locked one next to or in front of the foremast.

 
 

Yes, thats the 1799 Enterprize or Enterprise as 1806 under David Porter.
This picture by Antoine Roux actually has a text under the ship with the exact date in 1806 and David Porter as Capt. are called. Another picture by the same artist and the ship, also in 1806, shows the other side of the ship and, as I already mentioned, in motion.
These two images are the most detailed and credible images of the ship.

The number and placement of the existing gun ports are interesting.
There are 7 gun ports but obviously none, not even a locked one next to or in front of the foremast.

 
 

Chapelle himself presented a plan for the superior in one of his books. There is probably a english made plan and a picture of the Superieur, it is possible that the above plan reconstruction of the Enterprize 1806 is based on this plan. However, we know that, among other things, the stern of the Enterprize was rebuilt before the shipyard in Venice, so it must have originally looked different and was therefore not completely identical to the Superieur. However, there are 2 pictures ( One portside at anchor and one underway from starboard ) of the Enterprize from the Roux family from the time after the renovation in Venice and still in the Mediterranean. which then show a strong similarity to the Superieur.

Chapelle himself presented a plan for the superior in one of his books. There is probably a english made plan and a picture of the Superieur, it is possible that the above plan reconstruction of the Enterprize 1806 is based on this plan. However, we know that, among other things, the stern of the Enterprize was rebuilt before the shipyard in Venice, so it must have originally looked different and was therefore not completely identical to the Superieur. However, there are 2 pictures ( One portside at anchor and one underway from starboard ) of the Enterprize from the Roux family from the time after the renovation in Venice and still in the Mediterranean. which then show a strong similarity to the Superieur.

Chapelle himself presented a plan for the superior in one of his books. There is probably a english made plan and a picture of the Superieur, it is possible that the above plan reconstruction of the Enterprize 1806 is based on this plan. However, we know that, among other things, the stern of the Enterprize was rebuilt before the shipyard in Venice, so it must have originally looked different and was therefore not completely identical to the Superieur. However, there are 2 pictures ( One portside at anchor and one underway from starboard ) of the Enterprize from the Roux family from the time after the renovation in Venice and still in the Mediterranean. which then show a strong similarity to the Superieur.

Hi yall. As the proprietor of this forum post I shall endeavour to answer. So the only real holy grail worth pursuing is this plan that was made by John Burrows supposedly under the supervision of Howard Chapelle ? It is basically a very well designed plan located at the music Seaport museum and there are actually 2 versions the 1799 and the 1805 version w the minute alterations. What you see here is not the vixen or anything looking like th constructo kit. It's a variation of the Baltimore clipper La superior  which came from the same yard/builder or somesuch. It shows a far more shallow design but also high bulwarks like for a naval brig with heavier cannon. Did not have a bowsprit at least not in the early days and while this plan is conjectur it follows the design of the ship as depicted on the corne paintings of the battle at tripoli. As far as I'm concerned this is what Enterprize looked like pretty much. 

Hi Phil!
 
The plan, according to Italian literature, is the brig cutter Giasone. An expanded version of the cutter class type Enea based on English plans.

Hi Phil!
 
The plan, according to Italian literature, is the brig cutter Giasone. An expanded version of the cutter class type Enea based on English plans.

Hi Phil!
 
The plan, according to Italian literature, is the brig cutter Giasone. An expanded version of the cutter class type Enea based on English plans.