JacquesCousteau

Looking good!

Thanks! I think that Latin American maritime history (maybe outside of Chile and to some extent Argentina and Brazil) has been really underexplored. Eventually I'd like to learn more about the coastal fishing industry's history, but for now that will have to wait.

Thanks! I think this experience really taught me what it means to cut with the grain. I had thought I was doing so by cutting down the length of the oar shaft, but without paying attention to how its changing thickness meant that the line of the grain from where I was cutting extended deeper into the oar shaft than I planned to cut. Good to learn this now rather than on a more indispensable part!

Next up, the chairs. They're usually pretty straightforward wooden chairs with a wicker seat. They can be painted simply or given slightly more varied paint schemes. There are also slight variations between boats in how the chairs are constructed. In order to finish the build on tine to give it as a gift, and to maintain whatever sanity I have, I decided that there were a few acceptable changes I could make to simplify things. First, given my limited access to materials, I could live with using the same material for the frame, the backrest, and the leg supports. Second, I would simplify the chair's frame to have a few less supports. Third, the seat would just be wood rather than something that more closely approximates wicker. Fourth, I would make eight chairs rather than the larger number typically carried. With that decided, I planned out the first chair as a prototype. I'd never made something like this, so I wanted to make sure it would work. If it didn't, I planned on just making a couple benches for the trajinera instead of chairs--something I've read some trajineras use, but that I've never seen. I looked at a bunch of Ikea chairs for inspiration--they have detailed dimensional drawings of every chair online--and sizing, then got to work. The prototype turned out pretty well, I thought. If it wasn't an exact replica of a typical trajinera chair, it at least was a convincing chair--I wouldn't have to make a bench! Then, a problem. Although I scaled it correctly based on some Ikea chairs, it looked much too big on the trajinera itself. Hmmmmm. I think a few things might be at play here. First, perhaps trajinera chairs are a bit on the smaller side (if still in the normal range, they're hardly child-sized). Second, I increasingly think that the trajinera dimensions I found online are not quite accurate--as mentioned above, they seemed too deep, and now I think they might be slightly too narrow as well. Perhaps the width given was for the fondo and cabacera only, and didn't count the thickness of the brazos. Or they might simply be off--as will be seen, even with a smaller chair, the trajinera hull proprtions still seem a little on the small side, almost closer to a midsize excursion vessel rather than one of the large ones. (Note the difference between the middle vessel and those to the left and right in the photo below). In any case, I made a new prototype chair, this time basing my dimensions on a smaller one (compared with the first, see below). It looked a bit better on the hull, although I still think the hull is too small. With the chair dimensions figured out, I had to make seven more. Rather than measuring each cut individually with a ruler, I marked dimensions for the frame pieces on a card and used that to cut pieces to standardized sizes. Soon I had a real workshop going! After I had five chairs completed, I decided that four chairs per side looked a little sparse. I was making good time, so I decided to make ten chairs in total instead of just eight. Finally, I finished all of them. I still have to paint them and glue them in place, but that will come later. I'm happy with how the chairs turned out, although I still think the hull looks a little narrow. Things I'll keep in mind if I build this again! At this point, I began planning out the large decoration that's placed qt the front of the awning. They're backed with a sort of grid, as can be seen on the right-most of the three trajineras in the photo about midway up this post. Thankfully, the backing grid isn't perfectly regular, so I had some flexibility with planning it. As for the decorations, there is a huge variety of examples from which to draw inspiration. As my in-laws live in a sugar-producing region in Veracruz, I decided to place a large V in the center, with shapes approximating sugarcane and cane leaves on either side (which will be more obvious once painted). On with the build!

Unfortunately, I haven't made as much progress on the dory as I would like--I was waiting for a pin vise so I could drill out the becket holes, and was busy with the trajinera build (I finally started the build log in the scratch-build section). I'll be traveling next week, so the dory won't be finished for a bit longer. I did find the time to finish the oars, though. I just had one left to shape. Unfortunately my knife blade must be getting dull. While I was carving off an edge, it stopped cutting and started acting as a simple wedge, ripping off a substantial chunk of the oar, cutting far too deeply (as can be kinda seen below). I still had one extra oar, so I wasn't too worried, but as a test, I wanted to see if I could correct the error. I glued the strip back on and let it cure overnight. Then, I very carefully began shaping the oar. After a lot of sanding, I was happy with how it turned out. The split wasn't visible at all. Finally, I gave a final sanding to the other oars. I'll be coating them with a sealer/varnish but mostly leaving them natural, so I needed to get off all the remaining char. Overall I'm happy with how the oars turned out, and I learned A. not to carve with a dull knife, and B. that many errors are correctable with a bit of patience.

Thanks, that's helpful to know! Unfortunately craft plywood doesn't seem to be available here either. MDF is most commonly used for crafts, but I've heard it's not the easiest to work with. As I'll discuss below, if I build this again (which I might!), I might laminate basswood. I also found that the sealer I applied before painting did a good job of hardening the balsa, so I also might apply that at an earlier stage (although I'd need to test that it doesn't impact gluing). Building the Hull With the plans set, I got to work on the hull, cutting out all the pieces. Balsa wood, as noted, is a real pain in the neck to work with, and getting everything squared off and even was a challenge! When it came time to connect the pieces, I made the mistake of just directly gluing them together at their edges instead of carving some sort of joint (beyond sanding an angle at the joint between the cabaceras and the fondo). I didn't carve out a joint because it was hard to carve out pieces of the balsa accurately and I was worried about ruining the pieces. This was an error because the getting everything square was a challenge and the joint wasn't great. I pushed through, and the results were ok, but in the future I would go about things a little differently in one of several ways. 1) If I were to make the parts from laminated 1/16th inch basswood, I could cut the inner layer slightly smaller, leaving a 1/16th inch border around the edges to be joined, which could lead to a much more secure joint. 2) If I were to continue to use balsa or unlaminated pieces, I could use a pin vice to drill a few small holes and could run sone thin dowels or toothpick pieces to connect the parts, again creating a more secure joint. 3) I could also simply sand the edges with a jig to a precise 45 degree angle, creating a more stable joint (which would, again, probably work better with non-balsa wood). In any case, I eventually got the hull pieced together. At this point, it looked a bit more like some sort of garden planter than a boat! (Seen below next to the dory I'm building). There were a few gaps I filled with a mix of glue and sawdust, which effectively closed them. After sanding it a bit, I took stock. The results were ok, not great. Maybe owing to the issues with the joints, the sides curved in a tiny bit and were not perfectly vertical. I also thought that it still looked a little deeper than it should for the scale, and the sides, scaled to the 7cm thickness specified in the guide mentioned in my previous post, looked slightly too thick. Things to keep in mind for next time! In any case, it was time to paint. First I sealed the hull. I noticed that this hardened up the balsa wood considerably, which was good as it was already a little dinged at some corners. If I work with balsa wood in the future, I may try sealing it before cutting and sanding. I painted an ochre layer first. In hindsight it should have been a slightly brighter yellow, but I didn't want to overdo it. In any case, there's a great deal of variety in trajinera color schemes, so I wasn't too worried about it and I think it worked well with the other colors added later. In between layers, I also used a pencil to scribe the lines between the boards--while I had scored the markings, this didn't show up at all through the paint. Then I added the red, masking with scotch tape. There was very little run-through, mostly where the wood grain forced a gap, and the touch-up was pretty easy. Then I painted the exterior blue. Overall, I was happy with how the paint turned out. Finally, I added the metal brackets at the bow and stern and around the corners, made out of card stock and painted before attaching. I think the size I chose worked, but two issues. First, in hindsight I think a darker color would have worked better (at least for the external brackets, the interior ones need to be red. Second, I should have aligned them with the top of the endpieces rather than the bottoms--nothing that ruins the model, but a good lesson for me to always double-check before gluing! Despite the issues, I feel that I'm learning a lot of useful lessons, and I'm having a fun time with the build! Next up: the chairs (oh so many chairs) and deck furnishings.

Hi, this is my first scratch-build and my second build overall. I’m currently finishing up Model Shipways’ Lowell Grand Banks Dory (which is a great kit!) and I'm really enjoying the process. Ordinarily, it would not be a great idea to scratch-build something while still having so little modeling experience. But as will be seen, the vessel I’ve chosen to build, a trajinera, is in most ways a very straightforward, simple boat. No planking or even wood-bending is required. Nonetheless, I'm looking forward to learning a lot with this build, especially about planning out scratch builds and (as will be seen) about building scale deck furnishings and detail work. I'll undoubtedly be making a lot of mistakes, too--hopefully instructive ones that can help out other beginning modelers looking to see what NOT to do. Although this isn’t a typical boat to model, I think it’s a worthwhile build, and I'm looking to have fun with it. Which at times may require simplifying furnishings and builds by quite a bit: I've seen some of the amazing builds on this site and there is no way I'm at that level yet (or will ever be). For this build, I'll be modeling a trajinera, a sort of colorfully-decorated canal barge often used for recreational excursions and tourism in Xochimilco, a part of Mexico City. I enjoyed riding one in 2018. First, I’ll explain a bit about the history of these vessels and their development. Then I’ll get into the design and construction process of my model. Historical Development: The Trajinera from Work to Leisure As is well-known, what is today Mexico City was originally Tenochtitlan, capital of the Aztec Empire, which came to exert power over much of what is today central Mexico. Tenochtitlan, founded in 1325, was located on a small island (soon expanded through the construction of new, artificial islands) in Lake Texcoco, one of several large lakes that dominated the Mexican Basin. Over the centuries following the Spanish conquest, the lakes were gradually drained. However, Mexico City remained strongly shaped by its lacustrine past. Into the second decade of the twentieth century, not only did the shrinking remnant Lake Texcoco border the city to the east, but the city’s southern and eastern zones were criss-crossed by a web of canals that extended from the city center out to distant towns, including Xochimilco far to the southeast. The Canal de la Viga and other canals were heavily trafficked, as can be seen in the image below from around 1910, carrying food and goods produced in outlying towns to the capital’s bustling markets. Xochimilco in particular, which was originally an indigenous town located on the shores of Lake Xochimilco, was an important center of food and agricultural production. The town’s namesake lake had been reduced in size over the colonial period, and continued to shrink in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries, but an extensive network of canals reached through and around the town—often referred to by observers as Mexico’s Venice—and the marshes that dotted the landscape. There, town residents grew crops and flowers on highly-productive chinampas—often mistranslated as “floating gardens,” but actually a type of fertile artificial island developed for agricultural purposes. Although there were a handful of steam-powered vessels by the late nineteenth century, most canal traffic and chinampa work was carried out on flat-bottomed, barge-like vessels, propelled by poling, called canoas or chalupas. According to the prominent geographer Antonio García Cubas (1835-1912), canoas were large and ponderous vessels that carried heavy cargos or large numbers of passengers, while chalupas were light, fast vessels that often focused on smaller cargos, such as flowers. (By the present day, trajineras are still sometimes referred to as canoas or chalupas). These were simple vessels, but they were well-suited for their work. The overhanging bow and stern (interchangeable, as they were effectively double-ended) allowed easy loading from shore, and they could carry a heavy load effectively. The flat bottom simplified construction and provided all the stability they would need for the calm waters of the canals and marshes. As can be seen from the photos, the basic hull design (as seen below in an image from around 1905) has gone practically unchanged from the workboats of the nineteenth century (and likely earlier) to the tourist vessels of the present. At the same time, work along the canals and chinampas was important culturally, as well. Collections of “Tipos Mexicanos”—a popular genre of literature and art that sought to catalog popular cultural practices and hence bring them together to forge a coherent national identity—frequently included romanticized depictions of workboats and their workers, often portraying indigenous people using the workboats to bring flowers to sell in the capital city, as in the staged photo below from the 1870s. Commenters like Antonio García Cubas, who wrote with nostalgia of mid-nineteenth century Mexico City in his memoir El libro de mis recuerdos (1904), strongly associated canal boats with an indigenous past, describing the canoas of the nineteenth century as “primitive Aztec vessels”—an association that likely has less to do with similarities in boat design than with the racial identities ascribed by elites to the lower- and working-class men and women who worked the canal boats. (A quick note: despite frequent claims that the trajinera is a holdover from the pre-Colombian past, this does not appear to be quite accurate. As Alexandra Biar notes, the traditional vessels of Tenochtitlan were dugout canoes. Many were constructed with flat bottoms and angled bows and sterns, giving them a similar appearance to a trajinera in side profile, but they were proportionally much longer and narrower than the trajinera, which was also constructed out of boards rather than carved from a single log. The trajinera seems to have evolved from such vessels--indeed, as will be seen, its construction is not unlike a dugout split in half and with extra boards added down the center to widen it--but is not quite the same as pre-Colombian boats.) The canals were also important sites for leisure. As Antonio García Cubas notes in El libro de mis recuerdos, the Canal de la Viga was heavily trafficked with revelers on festival days, especially during Carnaval, when it was popular to travel by boat to the town of Santa Anita or further out among the chinampas. While wealthier families traveled in elegant rented canoas under an elegant, curved awning, the lower classes (according to García Cubas) crowded the bow, stern, and wales of the vessels, leaving the center open as a dance floor. Despite their significance to the regional economy and culture, the growth of rail lines meant that the canals declined in importance in the early twentieth century, while drainage projects, pumping, and sedimentation shrank the lakes and marshes. Mexico City’s canals were fully drained in the early 1920s. Chinampa agriculture also declined in the face of dwindling water levels, authorities’ plans for drainage, and competition with dry land agriculture promoted by post-revolutionary land reform policies, as Matthew Vitz has discussed in his excellent book A City on a Lake (which I’m using as the source for much of this discussion of economic-environmental change). Nonetheless, Xochimilco held on to its canals, many of which survive to the present day, even as their surroundings have been swallowed by relentless urbanization. This survival is owed to the region’s shift to the tourism industry, of which the trajinera is a crucial component and symbol. Xochimilco, like other outlying towns around Mexico City, had long been not only a center of agricultural production, but also for recreation—getting out of the city for a weekend or two was popular for those who could afford it. The expansion of rail lines and improved transportation technologies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, as well as the growth of the middle class, led to a dramatic expansion in recreational visits to the countryside. Xochimilco became an exceptionally popular destination, especially from the 1920s onward, and many farmers moved away from agriculture and into the business of selling goods and services to tourists. This coincided with the wider promotion of Mexican national identity and the codification of cultural traditions by post-revolutionary governments, intellectuals, and artists—a process that went into overdrive compared with its nineteenth-century antecedents—and with growing international tourism. Foreign and national visitors to Xochimilco, by riding on trajineras down canals and through chinampa plots, sometimes while dressing in stylized, colorful, “traditional” clothing (as in the photos below from the 1920s and 1930s), sought what they saw as an authentically Mexican experience. (Undoubtedly, it was also simply fun to have a beer while relaxing on a boat!) More than ever before, the trajinera became over the twentieth century a commercialized and recognizable symbol of Mexican traditions (such as the 1930s Christmas cards, below, or in paintings by the prominent muralist Diego Rivera). Indeed, a stylized trajinera is today the symbol of Metro Nativitas, a metro station in Mexico City named after a town in Xochimilco. The trajinera is so strongly associated with tourism and tradition that it has begun to appear in boating attractions for tourists in other parts of the country, as well—in the process perhaps displacing local vessels (although I know little to nothing about local nautical traditions elsewhere in the country). While the hull design changed only little, other aspects of the trajinera developed over time. Many early tourist trajineras were indistinguishable from workboats—perhaps only being differentiated by having an awning and a few chairs. They became increasingly ornately decorated to better attract tourists over time. Many early vessels used real flowers for decoration, as in the photo below from the 1920s, although this was undoubtedly difficult to maintain. By the midcentury at latest, and perhaps earlier, trajineras increasingly came to be decorated instead with pieces of wood cut into designs and brightly painted, with the vessel’s name and sometimes the excursion company’s name included, attached to the front of the awning (as seen in the unfortunately blurry photo below from the 1960s). Trajineras also became increasingly differentiated by size. Large and medium-size vessels have awnings; they are usually used for excursions, or for carrying bands of musicians who travel the canals looking to serenade tourists. In contrast, smaller vessels are usually used by vendors who sell food, drink, and other goods to the larger vessels’ passengers. (Vessels of all sizes are also used by those who still work the chinampas, and it should be noted that, among the tourist vessels, there are also large vessels with curved sides and flat bottoms, apparently called colectivos, that more closely resemble typical tour boats elsewhere; I have not found much information about them, and they are far outnumbered by the more typical trajineras). As can be seen, the trajinera carries a lot of cultural, historical, and economic weight in its simple but sturdy hull. So how to model that hull? Next, I will turn to designing the model. But first, sources and further readings: Selected readings: On pre-Colombian boat design: Alexandra Biar, “Prehispanic Dugout Canoes in Mexico: A Typology Based on a Multidisciplinary Approach,” Journal of Maritime Archaeology (December 2017). On economic-environmental change, including the shift from chinampas to tourism in Xochimilco: Matthew Vitz, A City on a Lake: Urban Political Ecology and the Growth of Mexico City (2018). On changing ideas of Mexico’s indigenous past in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century: Mauricio Tenorio, Mexico at the World’s Fairs: Crafting a Modern Nation (1996) and Rick Anthony López, Crafting Mexico: Intellectuals, Artisans, and the State After Revolution (2010). For Primary Sources: The Mediateca website, where the old photos above come from, has a huge number of photos of trajineras from the last decades of the 1800s onward, which can be accessed by simply searching for “trajinera” at: https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/ See also: Antonio García Cubas, El libro de mis recuerdos (1904), which besides discussing festival excursions on the canals, also discusses a difficult lake voyage in 1865 from Mexico City to Texcoco. Images (except the photo I took at the start) come from the following links, in order: https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A116865 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A140385 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A392506 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A395597 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A109496 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A491450 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A395336 https://mediateca.inah.gob.mx/islandora_74/islandora/object/fotografia%3A110266 Design Unfortunately, I was not able to find any plans online. However, a few sites—the most useful of which comes from Alberto Peralta Legarreta’s “Objetario de la Ciudad de México” (http://www.alberto-peralta.com/objetariocdmex/manual_trajineras.html)-- shed some light on how trajineras are built, a trade practiced by a shrinking number of boatbuilders. It usually takes seven to fifteen days to build a real trajinera—my model has thus far taken much longer! The trajinera has a few principle parts: the fondo (the rectangular base), the cabaceras (the angled “floors” at the bow and stern), and the brazos (the sides). The fondo and cabaceras are all made of boards joined end-to-end, in part with pine dowels that swell once in contact with water, and caulked with coconut fibers. The brazos, which on a large trajinera are about 7 cm thick, can be either a single board or multiple depending on wood availability. The cabaceras are capped by a slightly curved endpiece, and each of the four corners is bordered by a 90-degree angled metal support. Beyond that, each trajinera has a curved metal shade propped up by four pillars and supporting the decorations at the bow end, under which are a number of chairs and a central table. For now, I’ll be focusing just on the hull. I had a hard time figuring out the exact dimensions of the hull, and it took me a few sketches to determine dimensions I was happy with. According to the website linked above, and other sources, the typical large excursion trajinera measures 7 meters long by 1.8 meters wide, with the height of the brazos 0.65 meters. After making a few sketches, I found that the depth appeared proportionally a bit too deep. After struggling a bit to figure out how to judge the depth, I noticed that, on most trajineras (see below or the photo at the start of the post), the seat height of the chairs is either level with or just below the tops of the brazos (or even just above them). After measuring some chairs in the house and looking around online, I found that most chairs—and trajinera chairs seem to be pretty normal in dimensions—have a seat height of about 45 centimeters (17.7 inches). Perhaps the trajinera’s fondo is 20 centimeters thick, but it seems much more likely to me that the height of the brazos is closer to 0.55 meters or a bit less. That looked a bit better on the sketch. With the dimensions sorted out, it came time to decide on the scale. I’m making this model as a gift for my in-laws, which will require carrying it with me on a several-hour bus ride. This would be much easier with a small model, but I don’t want to go too small, as I don’t want to make it too difficult for me to construct small parts like the chairs. I decided on 1:32 scale. Moreover, to reduce the risk of travel damage, I’ll be constructing the hull, furnishings, decorations, and top awning all separately, keeping them apart during the trip, and putting everything together once I’m there. With the scale set, I sketched out a hull plan. Rather than build the fondo and cabaceras from individual pieces, I decided to just make them a single piece each. Lines representing the joints between boards will be drawn on later. A note on materials. Unfortunately, wood for modeling has not been very easy to get in Mexico City. In the future, I will have to see if a carpenter can mill pine or something down to a thin sheet. The only basswood I have found available is in 1/16th inch-thick sheets. In contrast, balsa wood is much easier to find in a variety of sizes. I don’t really want to work with balsa wood, as it’s spongy and doesn’t hold a cut well, and would really prefer another wood, but it will be the simplest solution for now, at least for the hull and some of the furnishings. (The columns supporting the awning will undoubtedly have to be made of a tougher material, but I’ll get to that later). This post is already huge, so I’ll leave actually building and painting the hull for the next post.

Thanks, I've read so many useful build logs that I'm glad to hear this is helpful! After painting the hull, I moved on to the cap rails, painting them a dark green. Here I should have double-checked the instructions before painting--the tip on taping the rails down would have made painting a lot easier. Instead I left the very ends, which I knew would be trimmed, unpainted to have something to hold onto. I also scraped and sanded some of the paint off the top of the wales. As can be seen, I also slightly trimmed off the tops of some of the frame irons that I was worried might get in the way. I touched up the paint afterwards. Attaching the cap rails was a slow process of gluing from the bow back. This entailed at times leaving the rail floating a bit. Trimming the end took a few tries and a good bit of sanding, but I eventually got it to more or less fit. There was a small gap between the cap rails just aft of the stem. The instructions suggest using filler, but I don't have any. Instead, I cut a tiny sliver of scrap to size. After a couple tries, I had a good test fitting.... and then had a hard time getting it back out! I was eventually able to flip it up at the fore end with a toothpick and add some glue. Later, I sanded it smooth and painted. I ultimately wasn't able to fully get the cap rails to strictly follow the inside edge of the gunwale, as the curve they were cut to slightly differed from the shape my hull took, but I think it worked out well enough. I'm happy with the color combination with the wine-red bottom, too. The end of the build is in sight! Next up, the beckets, which will require re-drilling the transom holes and touching up the paint. Then thwarts, thole pins, oars, and the base, and I'll be finished and on to the next model! After a great deal of thought, and considering my limited space and my wish to learn how to plank, I ultimately decided to go with the Model Shipways Muscongus Lobster Smack, which will undoubtedly be a huge step forward in complexity.

Painting the hull has been an adventure, but at least it's done now. I was planning on painting the bottom red--I know it's not really traditional, but I thought it would add a nice touch. But before painting the bottom, first I wanted to use it to better test a light black wash for weathering (which I mentioned trying out on scrap in an earlier entry). I'm glad I tested it on an area that I would be covering first! It ended up simultaneously too dark and too watery and did not at all look how I wanted it. Painting the bottom was a bit trickier than planned, though. I should have followed the advice I got to get Tamiya modeling tape, but scotch tape had worked pretty well for the trajinera I'm building so I figured I would just use that to mark off 1/8 inch above the bottom. Big mistake! While the painted lines on the trajinera were all straight, painting the bottom evenly required a curve to match the rocker. Scotch tape does not curve well. Then I tried using a pencil to lightly draw a flat waterline, but that also didn't go very well--clearly I should have planned better. But I'm happy with how it turned out. I decided to just freehand it (except across the transom, I used tape for that) up to the top of the garboard. I thought my red paint was a little light, so I mixed a bit of black to get a sort of zinfandel color that I think worked out well. I can't say I'm really enjoying painting as much as the building, and it doesn't help that I can't really build anything while I'm painting because I don't want to get sawdust all over the drying paint. But I'm definitely learning a lot, especially from mistakes, and I'm looking forward to the last steps and figuring out what to build next.

Looking great! Thanks for the detailed build log, this is very helpful as I think about what to build next.

Thanks! I suspected it might be from the build logs I've seen, but I don't have enough experience with planking to really know. Still might go for it, though, it certainly is a cool boat!

Hi, I'm getting close to finishing my first build--the Model Shipways Lowell Grand Banks Dory--and as I've had a great time with the build, I'm trying to decide what to build next. There are a few constraints that I'm operating under. I have to move fairly frequently, so for the time being, I'd prefer something relatively small in size and without sails (or, at least, with a mast that's easily unshipped for transport without destroying a lot of rigging). I'm also not really interested in building a warship or a motorized vessel--fishing boats are most interesting to me. The next ships in the Model Shipways shipwright series would be the Norwegian Pram and the Muscongus Bay Lobster Smack, and while they seem like they would be fun builds that would teach me a lot, both look like they'd be tricky to pack and transport. (Also, being in Mexico for the time being, shipping costs to have the kit sent here are about as much as the models themselves!) Finally, I'm also interested in learning how to plank a hull, as I hope to eventually build up to scratch-building a model of a Catalonian barca pesquera (unfortunately, Artesania Latina no longer makes this model, which would be perfect, but they make the instructions available for download: https://artesanialatina.net/en/old-instructions/62246-wooden-model-ship-kit-cadaques-assembly-guide-19009.html ) Looking around, I saw that I would be able to get a Midwest Maine Peapod kit for a reasonable price on ebay. It seems like it meets all my criteria--relatively small, a fishing boat, no mast, easily transportable, and a planked hull. Is there anything I should be aware of about the kit before I go ahead and get it?

Thanks, this is very helpful! I considered leaving it looking weathered, but there were some excess glue stains (not really visible in the photo, but easier to see from other angles) that looked weird and were better covered with more coats. It's a good reminder for me to do a better job cleaning excess glue as I go. But I'd definitely like to do a more weathered model soon!

Thank you all for your kind words of encouragement! Painting has been tricky, but I'm making progress. First I applied a clear coat of sealer/varnish, then started on painting. Following the instructions, I painted the interior first. This was actually a lot more frustrating than I expected--it really put the "pain" in "painting". There are so many tiny nooks and crannies that it was incredibly hard to paint. As late as the fourth coat, I was still finding bits I had missed! If I did this build again, I think I would paint the interior before I added the risers, as that would make it at least a little easier. I was also surprised that paint doesn't cover char marks and glue stains as well as I thought! They say the first coat should be patchy and semi-transparent, and by that measure, my first coat was a success! That said, I think I over-thinned the paint for my first few coats. This made it harder to keep from bubbling or from building up in the corners (of which there are many on the interior). It also meant that it still looked patchy after the third coat. Subsequently, I thinned it less. Despite the frustrations, I think the interior turned out pretty well. The exterior, in contrast, has been a million times easier to paint and I'm nearly finished. Quick question: will scotch, masking, or blue painter's tape work for masking? There are a few details I'd like to add, but I'm worried that using the wrong tape will ruin things.

After attaching the bands, the next step was to bevel the tops of the planks. I was worried that the tops of the frames might catch on the sanding stick, and they were to be cut down anyway in a subsequent step to make way for the gunwales, so I carefully cut them down a little. Sanding was straightforward and I went until there was just the faintest char line left. Now it was time to cut down the frames, properly this time, to clear space for the gunwales. It was tricky to tell how far to cut them, so I used a 1/16 square balsa stringer I had lying around to mark it. The instructions recommend cutting the frames with a chisel blade. I just have an exacto blade, so I was forced to make do. A chisel would be easier though, and on a couple of cuts I sliced a little into the planking. Thankfully it will be covered by the gunwale and paint. Also, some of the frames and side cleats came loose at the top--given the angle of the planks caused by the strake overlaps, they were most strongly attached right where I was cutting. Gluing them down again added a bit of time. A number of other build logs mentioned the gunwales snapping while trying to fit them, so I soaked them in hot water and curved them before fitting them. Even with scrap wood in place, this dented the gunwales in a few places, but it was nothing a little bit of water couldn't fix. Trimming the ends was a bit tricky. I wish the instructions had shown a picture of what they were supposed to look like, or what they meant by adding an "undercut". I was able to shape them with patient trimming until they fit. Basically, they should lie flush with the stem and transom. At this point I also had to trim a couple frames down a little more so the gunwale took a nice smooth curve when in place. I started gluing it at the bow and worked my way aft, using clips as I went. (At this point, the hull of the trajinera--a simply-constructed but vibrantly-decorated barge-like vessel that I'm scratch-building--served as an effective stand. Build log to come, provided I don't make a mess of it in the next few steps, which is entirely possible). With the gunwale drying, I turned my attention to a small, scratch-built fitting: a bailer. I've seen similar ones in some other build logs, and wanted to give it a try, particularly as the trajinera will require building quite a few scale chairs and other fittings and I need the practice working with such small pieces. I based the bailer on a few I found online (here: https://www.worthpoint.com/worthopedia/antique-wooden-watermens-boat-bailer-old-paint, and ones built by The Dory Shop in Lunenburg, Nova Scotia) and by looking over other builds' versions. I'm pretty happy with how it turned out, but learned a few things that I'll definitely keep in mind. First, I made the rookie mistake of forgetting to take into account the thickness of the material (I used 1/32-inch basswood scrap, except the handle which is a toothpick). As a result, it ended up slightly larger than I planned. Thankfully, the bailer dimensions I had planned on were an inch or so smaller than some of the other bailers I saw, so it still works for the scale as a slightly larger but still normal-sized one, but it's a good reminder for me to make sure I'm considering the material when I scratch-build. Second, I realized too late that gluing and painting something so small would have been easier if I had left a piece uncut until later, so as to have a handle. Come to think of it, the handle would have worked nicely for this. Third, the handle would have been better attached if I had been able to fit it into a hole in the other pieces, making an actual joint instead of just sticking it on with a dab of glue. Unfortunately, this was done out of necessity as I don't have any sort of drill or drillbits. In any case, next up were the (optional) frame head irons. As others have mentioned, the scale dimensions given in the instructions are much too large. I found that 1/16th by 3/16th of an inch (real, not scale, size) looked best. I had to sand down the number 2 frame a bit to get it even with the gunwale, but after that attaching the irons was simple. Finally, the breast hook. As can be seen, I had to shape this a good bit for the original piece to get it to fit--the little tab on the front was almost entirely removed. I'm happy with how it's going so far, and feel like I've really learned a lot. Looking forward to painting!

Thanks for the advice! This is all very helpful information.

Thanks! I'm having a lot of fun and am really improving my skills while doing so. Attaching the bands took a lot of clamps, but was otherwise pretty straightforward. After rubbing some water on the outside edge to help them bend, I attached them at the bow first, held them in place with my fingers for a few minutes, then clamped and moved back, gluing and clamping as I went. I noticed that the instructions don't specify how the bands should look at the bow. I spent a few minutes googling and found that quite a few have the band starting at the back edge of the stem (or rather, the false stem), so that's what I went with. Next I have to sand the tops of the planks/bands level. I'm considering whether to first cut off the tops of the frames, which will have to be removed in the next step to fit the wales, as removing the top of the frames seems like it would make sanding the planks/bands level easier. Also, I'm not sure if it's better to ask this question here or in one of the other threads, but here goes: As I get closer to the end of this kit, there are a few things I'm thinking about doing. First, as a lot of other build logs mention, the included rope (1.5mm diameter jewelry nylon) looks a bit too thick, so I'm looking to replace it. How do you find a line of the right thickness for the scale? Do you just eyeball it? In a craft shop, I saw this, which looked a bit thinner than what the kit comes with, but it's hard to tell if it's still too thick or not, especially as they don't bother to state the diameter. https://www.hilosomega.com.mx/product-page/espiga-no-18 (Also, they only sell it in much larger quantities than I need--would something like this be useful for other models?). Relatedly, a lot of the other builds have included personalized touches, like the addition of bailers, buckets, nets, lobster traps, etc. I'd be interested in trying something like that, both to add a nice touch to the dory and to build experience with building very small accoutrements (which will be useful for a planned upcoming build, more on that to come...). Where do people find sizing information to make sure they're to scale? I would hate to put in a lot of work building something and then ruin it by sticking a very-out-of-scale bucket or something in it. Thanks for the suggestions!

After a lot of thought, I decided to re-do the upper strake at the transom and the aftmost frame. It took a lot of alcohol brushed om the joints, and a lot of patience, but eventually I was able to slide the knife in and release the plank from the transom. Then I moved forward bit by bit, applying alcohol to soften the glue (in the process accidentally spilling rubbing alcohol all over the workstation, although thankfully not the model). When it came time to re-attach it, I realized that there was a problem. While I hadn't sanded the plank fully flush with the transom before detaching it, I hadn't left as much room as I thought, and it didn't seem like it would be long enough on the bottom to fully reach the end of the transom. I gave it some thought--better to have a too-low plank, or an issue at the stern? I decided to fix the plank height at the cost of a bit of a divot where the stern plank meets the transom. After re-gluing it, I was able to sand the transom down a good bit to limit the problem. It won't be very noticeable, but I'll know it's there. It will remind me to make sure things are right before I cut. After that, I popped the dory off the building board and went to work with a tiny saw blade attachment for the knife to saw off the frame assembly. It took a while, but it finally came off. Although the tops of the frames will be removed in a later step, they still need to be flush with the plank. Sanding them down was very slow, so I ended up carefully using the knife to whittle them down, which worked well. I also noted that I had been a bit messy with the glue way back when I attached the bottom. Good thing I'll be painting this! As other build logs have noted, the instructions are oddly vague about the false stem. I decided to use the leftover wood from the bottom cleats. I started trying to sand it into a triangular shape, but it was difficult, so I whittled it a bit before sanding. Wetting the outside edge then attaching it was pretty easy (I just used finger pressure while the glue cured). I then cut off the excess, which I left on for ease of handling while shaping it, after it dried. (It still needs to be cut and sanded in this photo). I also noticed that I had been a little overzealous in beveling the stem and there would be divots at the bottom of the joint just above the planks. Following a technique I've seen in other builds, I filled them with a bit of sawdust mixed with a tiny amount of glue, applied with a toothpick. Unfortunately, this turned a bit gummy when I sanded it--maybe it needed more time. (It still needs to be sanded in this photo). I forgot to take pictures of the next steps while under construction. The side cleats went in pretty easily. I lightly beveled the end that is propped at the cleat so it would have a more solid connection there. Cutting them to size after drying was straightforward. The risers were a little more difficult, but I got them lined up with the markings on the frame. Finally, I sanded the false stem to fully shape it. This was a little tricky, as the width varied across the bow and I didn't want to sand inti the overlapping planks at the stem. In hindsight, I may have sanded slightly more than I should have off the top, but I think I can live with it. Overall, I'm really happy with how this kit is coming together, and I'm learning a lot.

Thanks! I finished the sheer planks today! After a bit of trimming, I released the frames from the building board. The bow turned out pretty even. The port side is very slightly higher, but I think it can be easily dealt with by a little sanding, especially as the bottoms of the plank look pretty even. (And visual discrepancies on the stem will be covered by the false stem). The stern concerns me more. There was a bit of overhang that made it hard to properly judge height, and the starboard side ended up a good bit lower than the port. Sanding it even might not be the best option as the bottom of the plank is also uneven. So, I'm going to consider whether I should try to undo the starboard plank at the stern with alcohol to adjust.

Thanks, that's extremely kind and helpful of you. I found your build log really useful. Glad to hear the log is useful! I've been busy and haven't done much lately, but the sheer planks are currently being molded into shape. Meanwhile, I did a bit of a test with paint and sealer/varnish (as the bottle I bought is labeled). After sealing a bit of scrap wood, I did a paint coat of varying consistencies over the sealed and unsealed part. (Left to right: unsealed with watery red coat, sealed with thick red coat, sealed with thin red coat, sealed with medium-consistency red coat). I noticed that the paint soaked quite a ways into the unsealed wood, so I'll definitely seal it before I paint. Then I tried experimenting with a light black wash (a technique I've never tried before) over some of the painted parts and some parts that were just sealed. At first the wash was much too dark (right side of the scrap piece) but I added more water and the lighter wash added a nice touch (between the red and the dark wash). I'm still not sure if I want to do the wash with the finished boat, but it's good to have the option. I'll just remember to keep it very light as I can always add another coat if necessary I also might just seal the thwarts and oars rather than paint them.

Thanks, all, for the kind welcome!

Broad planks have been attached with little incident, following a similar process to the garboards. Only a few things to note. First, I did a better job beveling the boards this time. The instructions' drawing of the inside rolling bevel isn't all that clear, but checking other build logs clarified things. (It's hard to get a good photo of the bevels, they're so small my phone can't focus well.) Second, the planks have gotten longer and I now have trouble fitting them into the pan I was using for soaking. I had to bend the wood a bit and move it from side to side to make sure the ends got soaked. In the future, I think I'll just have to pour boiling water into a longer baking dish, although I worry about the temperature dropping too much without a burner. Third, when bending the plank, I had to get creative with clamping at the stern, as the transom really gets in the way. I ended up clamping scrap wood to the transom holder (which, per the instructions, isn't glued in) and running it up to pressure the plank against the transom, using another clamp on the building board to make sure it was tight. Not perfect--the pressure was highest at the edge of the plank--but enough for curving the plank. Fourth, it was a little tricky to get the plank to stick well to the frames this time, given that the plank is propped up a bit by its slight overlap with the garboard. I used bobby pins on every frame. The ends were set with finger pressure, and the clamp at the bow is more precaution than anything (as I didn't want it popping off while I worked my way aft). Finally, I'm happy with how it turned out overall. But one issue: it turns out that the laser cut lines marking the beveling weren't quite even, one marks a slightly larger space than the other, as can be seen by comparing them at the bow. My main concern is that this will throw off the sheer planks, so I'll have to keep this in mind when fitting them. I should have double-checked when I beveled the planks earlier. I might be able to lightly sand back the port bevel so it's more even with the starboard. (Note: sanding the planks even ended up taking a bit more off the port plank as it was glued slightly further forward than the starboard one. The discrepancy will be covered by the false stem, though.) On to the sheer planks!

Although I was nervous about attaching them, I'm very pleased with how the garboards turned out! The instructions suggest attaching everything at once using a mix of glue and water, but I saw a lot of other build logs that said they needed undiluted glue to get things to stick. I started applying the glue at the bow, then realized that, at the slow speed I was applying it, the glue at the stem would be dry by the time I finished at the transom. So I attached and clamped it at the stem and then glued bit by bit, working my way aft. This worked ok, except that it was hard to get glue on the frames as there wasn't much of a gap. I placed rubber bands as I went to help hold everything in place. After gluing the garboard to the transom, I noticed that one of the frames wasn't making a very solid connection to the garboard. I quickly applied some glue via brush from the opposite side, then clamped the pieces together. As can be seen, I was unprepared for this, so the only scrap wood I had on hand was a bit unwieldy and didn't fit great, but it worked out in the end. Then, I ran some lightly diluted glue along the joints as the instructions suggest, following up with a damp brush to clean any excess. Once it had dried for a few hours, I removed the clamps and rubber bands. I was happy with how it turned out! Next, the other garboard. Once again, I glued bit by bit as I went, and followed the same process with running diluted glue along the joints afterward cleaning the excess. (This will probably be trickier to do on the interior once there is less space between the boards and the building board). This time I used bobby pins alongside the rubber bands to lightly hold the board to the frames. I did forget to do a test fit, though. While I already knew that the board itself was fine, I only realized after I had started gluing that I had no idea how I would clamp it now that the other garboard was in the way! But it didn't end up being a problem. After holding it with my hands for a few minutes, it was already set, or at least enough for me to improvise a way to clamp it at the bow (more as a precaution than anything). I ended up putting the clamp on the stem below the board, but using a piece of scrap wood so the pressure was transmitted up to the board itself. The stern joint also solidified with just a few minutes of finger pressure. I couldn't figure out how to clamp anything back there because of the angle, so I ended up just placing another bobby pin to make sure the tip didn't curl up from the moisture. (I also uses clamps on the building board while attaching both boards to fully correct the twisted transom I mentioned in the previous post). After everything dried, I checked how it looked. I was reasonably happy with the fit, but thought it looked a bit uneven at the transom. (Taking this photo made me realize that I had somehow lightly dented the transom, but I just put a bit of water on the spot and it corrected itself). Then I realized: I still had to sand it! Once sanded, everything looked better. I can live with the very slight unevenness at the bow (which is less noticeable to the eye than to the camera). And I think the transom came out well. I'm also pleased with how the frames are connecting to the boards on the inside. Overall, I'm happy with how it's turning out, and I'm glad that it looks more like a boat now that it has sides. Next up, the broad planks.

Hi there, I'm a little late posting here--I recently started the Model Shipways Dory and already began my build log, linked below--but realized I should properly introduce myself. From a young age, I was fascinated by sailing ships, and even whittled quite a few tiny models and did a fair bit of simple woodworking. Recently, taking a drawing class reminded me of how much I enjoy making things by hand (while I enjoy cooking, it doesn't quite scratch the same itch), while a visit to the Maritime Museum of Barcelona rekindled a long-dormant interest. I started thinking about taking up model-building again, and found this forum, where I read a number of build logs. So many people have posted such amazing builds here, and I have a lot to learn from them. I'm mainly interested in smaller, simpler models, at least for now. I'll have to move repeatedly over the next few years for work, so anything too difficult to pack up is off the table. I'd like to develop my skills enough to make a traditional Catalonian fishing vessel (a laud or barca palangrera) like the ones I saw in Barcelona. Current build log: https://modelshipworld.com/topic/34652-lowell-grand-banks-dory-by-jacquescousteau-model-shipways-124/#comment-987957

Having never curved wood before, I was more concerned about the following steps than the rest of the build. Although there were some troubled waters to get through, things are still going well. First, beveling the frames. This was pretty easy with the long, flexible sanding stick used earlier to bevel the frames for the bottom. The frames turned out pretty well, as far as I could tell. The stem was also pretty straightforward to bevel, and I made sure to follow the instructions and bevel until the char narrowed to a thin line. The transom was slightly trickier to bevel, and the transom holder got a little sanded as well, but it turned out pretty well. Next up, beveling the garboards. This part was a little confusing to me in the instructions, and a bit difficult to do in practice. It was hard to get the angle right. I've seen some other builds where people built a jig to keep the angle consistent, but I didn't have the tools for that. Only the bow and stern ends were supposed to be beveled to a complete 45-degree angle (for the rolling bevel, which I only understood once I saw other build logs). But given the thinness of the wood and my inexperience, I accidentally beveled the rest of it in nearly the same way. I was able to fix it a little by sanding down the edge very slightly, so it had a flat part and wasn't just pointy (except, again, at the ends with the rolling bevel), and fixing the bevel angle so it was closer to how it should be. Both garboards received the same treatment and turned out equal, at least, so the error shouldn't throw things off too badly. Then came the part I was really dreading: curving the garboards. I'd never curved wood before except for the bottom in an earlier step, which had worked well enough but wasn't all that curved. I was especially worried about cracking the wood from the pressure--would it hold? After a dry test fitting, in which I noticed that the wood wanted to bend out away from the middle frames, I soaked the first garboard in boiling water for 5 minutes. Then I patted it dry and put it in place with binder clips (making sure to use pieces of scrap wood to keep the clips from damaging the garboard itself) and some rubber bands. I was amazed at how flexible the wood was after being boiled. The stem was relatively easy to clip, as seen here. The transom was a bit harder to clip onto, and I had to be a bit creative to figure out the right angle. After letting it dry overnight, I took it out of the clamps to see how it was. At first, I was thrilled--there was no cracking and it retained the curve well. But then I noticed two issues. First, the stem had been clamped a little too far back, it seemed. So instead of a smooth single curve, the bow curved back out again (visible on the left in the photo). Thankfully, I knew from other build logs that this was a common issue, and I was able to fix it by wetting the outside of the wood and putting the bow end under a weight. At first the weight was a little too big and too far back, so it was flattening the board--not what I wanted after curving it overnight!--but I was able to adjust. I also propped a toothpick under the garboard to help it retain the curve. Then I noticed the second, more serious issue. My clamping on the transom had been enough pressure to warp it so it was now twisted at an angle. It also didn't want to stay in place between the blocks. Checking the transom revealed that not all was lost, though. The joints were still solid, and the transom itself was still straight--whatever had twisted appeared to be in the stern knee. After some consideration, I decided to 1) switch to lighter clamps (plastic clothespins) that wouldn't exert so much pressure, and 2) lightly moisten the knee before clamping the other garboard in the same way in hopes that it would twist back the right way (using a clip on the building board to also pressure the transom back into place). Maybe a little risky, but if it worsened, I hadn't yet attached the garboards and I would still be able to make a new stern knee and reattach the transom. Thankfully, the second garboard went much better. I was more careful at the stem and it didn't curve back the wrong way--a smooth curve the whole way. The transom--once again tricky to clamp--also ended up (almost) back where it should be (and, as will be seen, was completely corrected during the following step). This time I let it dry a bit over three hours instead of overnight, and I noticed that it retained its curve just about as well as the other garboard with its overnight drying. Good to know for the future! Next up, attaching the garboards.