JacquesCousteau

Thanks, that's incredibly helpful! Clearly I should have checked Chapelle before diving in, haha. With the mast step already glued in place under the second rather than the first thwart, I think I'll have to live with my mistake there. But hopefully I can avoid any further errors. If you're willing to scan and post the plans, I would really appreciate it! Looking forward to seeing your peapod build!

(This was originally going to be part of the above post, but it was already pretty long). At this point, I think I'm done with the furnishings. But, I've been working on a larger addition to the build: a mast and sail. I was especially inspired by the many fantastic build logs of the Bluejacket dory kit, which does include a sail. Although this dory won't have a rudder (or a centerboard) and isn't a dedicated sailer, simple spritsails were nonetheless common on dories, designed to be easily unshipped and used only if the wind was favorable. I plan to make mine so it can also be unshipped, which is not only an interesting possibility for displaying the model but also will make transporting it much easier. The first step was preparing the mast step assembly. I noticed that the Bluejacket kit looks to be framed following the Shelburne dory style, with each frame made of three pieces held together with metal braces at the joints, while this kit, representing a Lowell dory, uses frames build of two pieces of wood. This means that each frame is rather thicker across the bottom than on the Bluejacket dory, which is relevant for the mast as the mast needs to be stepped through the number two thwart and down to a mast step on the bottom. The thwart in the kit sits centered on the frame, making it impossible to fit a mast as the frame is right under it. So, the first step for me was to make a new thwart from scrap wood, with the frame slots further back so that the thwart sits further forward. I also added a piece across the center on the bottom to reinforce the area where the mast step will be drilled, as I saw this on a photo of a dory in a museum (below). The mast step hole will have to be cut toward the front of the thwart to fit around the frame, but it will work. The photo below compares the kit's thwart (below) with my scratch-built one (above), prior to drilling the mast step hole. Next, the mast step itself, which I made of scrap wood. Lacking any files, I decided the best way to make a square hole (measured for a 1/16th inch square piece) would be to cut the step in half, cut out half the step, then glue it back together. As can be seen, I first accidentally cut the wrong side, but I decided againat replacing the part. Instead, I filled it in with scrap wood and sawdust with glue. After sanding and painting, the mistake was invisible, as seen later. After the glue was dry on the step, but before gluing anything to the dory, I drilled a pilot hole in the thwart and did a test fitting with the leftover 3/64th-inch thole pin material, just to check that nothing was horribly out of alignment. It still wasn't time to attach the step, though--first I wanted to make the mast itself, so I could make sure to fit the mast step properly. I made the mast out of the scrap wood from around the display board. Following the suggestions given in the Model Shipways Norwegian Pram instructions (which are available for download on the model shipways site) I cut the 1/8th-square piece into an octagonal cross-section, making sure to always cut with the grain, and then carefully sanded it circular and tapered a bit at the ends by running it through a sheet of sandpaper that I held curved in my palm. I could do a better job getting it perfect in the future, but for a first attempt I'm happy with it. I also noticed that the basswood seems a little soft for making masts, and had to fill a divot that somehow got sanded into it with a mix of glue and sawdust, which seemed to work. I then drilled a hole at the top for tge rigging and added a bit of 1/16th-square wood at the bottom to slot into the mast step (I used the pin vise to drill a hole in the bottom to better hold the piece). Finally, I drilled out the hole in the thwart for the mast. I did a test fitting, marked the location for the mast step, then glued it to the bottom after scraping a bit the paint that was where it would be. Then I painted the step. I'm happy with how the mast fits! As for the sail, I had no luck finding a really thin cotton fabric despite visiting multiple shops, but in one shop's scrap pile I did find a large number of pieces that are a good size for the sail (and extra in case I mess up). They're slightly thicker than I would like, but for now it will work, especially considering they were about 50 cents. I haven't started making the sail yet, but will be drawing on the Norwegian Pram instructions as well as the "Scale Sails For Your Model" pdf. At this point, while I still haven't made the sprit or sail, there's something I'd like to ask for help to clarify. The Bluejacket kit depicts a spritsail rigged with a snotter and with lines tied off at cleats. This seems like the classic way to rig a spritsail. But, a different method seems to be used in the examples I've found online. The dory at the Mariner's Museum, seen below, seems to have the sprit basically just tied to the mast (which might technically be a snotter, just an extremely short one). The sprit-rigged lobstering peapod below also seems (it's a bit blurry) to be similar. No cleats in sight. (Image links: https://iscc.marinersmuseum.org/watercraft/grand-banks-dory/ And https://maineboats.com/online/boat-features/evolution-maine-lobsterboat ) So, how should I go about rigging this? Part of me wants to just base it on the Bluejacket model and include cleats etc, which would look nice and be good for building experience. But part of me thinks I should follow the photos and go for accuracy. If I do the latter, though, there are two things I'm unsure of. 1) How does the loop of the snotter that goes around the mast stay in position and not slide around, especially given the taper of the mast? (I mean, I could glue it, but that seems like cheating). Reading online about spritsails on smsll boats, it seems like a sliding snotter could be used to adjust the sail, but that still doesn't tell me anything about how it would stay in position when you didn't want it to slide. 2) No hoist--I think that's the term for the line used to haul up the sail, but I might be wrong, different articles seemed to use different terms with one calling it a halyard--is visible. Where would it be tied off without a visible cleat? If you have any suggestions, please let me know, I'd really appreciate any help. I've tried looking in David Steel's 1794 book "The Elements and Practice of Rigging and Seamanship," but while it's useful on the sails themselves it's not very clear on the questions I have. In any case, I'm learning a lot from this build, and really enjoying it!

Thanks, glad to hear it! Looking forward to your lobster smack build log, as I recently ordered that kit for myself. I'm also curious about some of the Mini Mamoli kits of Mediterranean fishing vessels, although from your experience it sounds like they may have some issues with the instructions.

Nicely done, congratulations on the build. It looks great, and despite not building this particular model, I've learned a lot from the build log!

Thanks, I'm really enjoying making the fittings! The University of Maine's Lobster Institute lists a gaff hook among the tools used in lobstering, especially for hooking the line connected to the buoy. Sounds good to me! I decided to make the shaft out of a toothpick, and the hook from a paperclip. I started by cutting off the tip of the toothpick and using the pin vise to drill a hole, about 1/8th to 1/4th of an inch deep, to secure the paperclip hook. I've found that, given the limited pressure you can exert on a pin vise, it's best to start with a small pilot hole and work your way up. Despite the small diameter of the hole I drilled, I still needed to use three drill bits to cut it! (This might in part be because I bought a very cheap pin vise and many drill bits are not very sharp at the tip, although for all I know that's normal for tiny drill bits). The photo below shows the toothpick, end-on, propped up by the pin vise. I don't have a wire cutter, so I used some pliers to twist the paperclip back and forth at a certain point until it broke, making the hook. I rubbed the broken end on some sandpaper in hopes that that would wear down any jagged bits. Then I was able to fit the hook into the shaft. Thinking back to when I used to tie fishing flies, I used black thread as a serving on a makeshift jig. The serving was a bit messy but it worked. I realized then that I should have painted the shaft before serving. Thankfully, I was able to carefully paint it without painting the serving. I didn't want it to be the same color as the trap, so I gave it a few coats of a thin ochre wash, followed by a light black wash to bring out the texture of the wood. I also painted the buoy. I thought a thin white coat over a black wash would look good, but it ended up a little stark and grey. I mixed a tiny bit of ochre into the white to make more of a cream color, which I used to paint the buoy. I added a dark red stripe, then a very light black wash for texture. The photo below shows how the buoy and gaff hook turned out after painting--note that I left the end of the hook unpainted, as it will be cut off. Also note that, after finding in a test that the paint doesn't adhere very well to the paperclip, I decided to leave the hook as natural metal. Maybe in the future I'll experiment with aging effects on metal, but for now I can live with the hook being a bit shiny. I finished the gaff hook by cutting off the end, painting the cut end black, and adding serving again as a sort of handle. I also glued in a loop of string to the end of the buoy to finish that part, as well. About the rope/string: I wasn't crazy about how the beckets had turned out, so after some experimentation I found that the string looks better and more consistent if it's first lightly soaked in the cream-colored wash, then, after that dries, quickly dipped in a black wash. The photo below compares the original, right, with it after the cream wash but before the black wash, left. It's a subtle difference, but it takes some of the sheen off the string. The effect with the black wash can be seen above with the buoy, or later. I think adding the black wash makes sense for lines that would spend a lot of time in the water, like the lobster trap line, but I like the cleaner look of the cream wash for something like rigging. Hmmmm, shame there's no rigging on this dory... more about that later. Finally, I wanted to make a rope loop for the line connecting the lobster trap to the buoy. I decided against a line bucket for now, but thought a rough loop (instead of a tight coil) sitting on the thwart wouldn't look bad. I made a jig using plastic brush protectprs and used watered-down glue to make the loop. My first attempt, pictured below, tried to make it look like the line had been simply looped around someone's arm from elbow to hand. But, it not only didn't turn out looking right--it was too tall--but also the glue was too watery, failing to hold its shape. Thankfully, the watery glue also meant the line could still be shaped. I simplified the jig to make more of a circular loop and gave that a try. Ultimately, I'm reasonably happy with how it turned out, although I think it could be shaped to better fit, and hang more naturally, at the stern thwart. The line is by now soaked in enough glue that it's hard to shape it more. The gaff hook looks decent in the dory as well, albeit a little shiny, and I'm not totally sure where they would put it. All fittings are currently not glued in place, so if you want to suggest a more accurate way to place things, I'm all ears!

Looks great! I saw the St. Roch years ago in Vancouver, so I'm looking forward to following the build.

Thanks for all the kind words! The trajinera, with all its chairs, table, and decorations, really built my confidence with scratch-building, and I wanted to apply that to the dory. So, I made a lobster trap. This does entail a choice to build this less as a dory used on the grand banks, where they were mostly targeting fish, but rather a dory used for inshore fishing. I based the design on photos from a number of other builds (shout-out to posts by users Keithbrad80, ThirdCoast, John Ruy, and Mr. Bluejacket), as well as on images and descriptions at these sites: https://www.fao.org/3/x2590e/x2590e07.htm https://scarboroughhistoricalsociety.org/2016/11/lobster-traps/ The trap is mostly constructed of slats of basswood, 1mm thick (more or less) that I stripped from a 1/16th inch thick board (so, they're 1/16th of an inch wide). I would have made them thinner, 1/32 inch, but I had a hard time stripping the wood very precisely with just my exacto knife and a straightedge. I consoled myself with the knowledge that lobster traps were often built by hand by fishermen, and usually looked a bit rough, and pressed on. I drew a template to follow for the outer pieces, and then added the slats across the bottom, using a piece of scrap wood as a spacer. For the curved frames, I soaked three slats in hot water and bent them around plastic bottle caps that were the correct size. I had some minor issues with the slats kinking rather than following smooth curve--perhaps the wood was a little thick for such a tight curve--but I was able to use hairpins to clamp those parts down into more of a curve. I was happy with how the curved frames and base turned out. Attaching the frames was tricky, as there was very little surface area to attach them and they had opened up slightly after taking them from the mold. First I tried to use super glue to add a bottom piece--essentially making a "D" shape with the frames--but this did not work at all. The glue ran everywhere, and the frame stuck only to my fingers! After peeling it off and scrubbing my hands for far too long, I decided on a different approach. I added a slat running across both ends of the frames. Once that assembly dried, I then was able to attach all three frames at once to the base. After attaching them, I noticed that the angle was a bit off. The top left part (in the photo below) didn't worry me as I was going to cut that part of the slat off anyway to make the entrance, but the bottom left and center frames were cut off and reglued, which resolved the problem. One of the frames at this point developed a slight kink again. I tried to pin it down a little by attaching a support slat and clamping, which helped a bit but not fully. Later, with the trap mostly complete, I simply sanded a bit off the slats at that point, which brought them into a smooth curve with the rest of the trap. Before attaching the funnels, I gave the whole assembly a light black wash to add some character. I wanted to do this now so that the trap interior wouldn't be unpainted. Making the funnels was very difficult! I used a thin tulle for the netting, dying it in the black wash so it was less white. Interestingly the surface tension is enough that the tulle just sits on top of the water untill you really force it in. I decided to do the interior funnel first, as it would be less visible if I messed up. My first plan to make the funnel was to attach straight strips of tulle inside the frame, which I would slit and glue into more of a conical shape. This did not work at all. Tulle is very hard to glue, for the simple reason that it's more holes than solid. When glued to itself, it prefers to stick to anything but itself, especially whatever is used (fingers, tweezers, etc) to push the tulle pieces together. With the first funnel a disaster, I cut it out and went back to the drawing board. In the meantime, I made the funnel entrance rings. I soaked sone brown thread in the black wash to make it darker, then wrapped it around a cylindrical plastic brush cover and soaked it in glue, trimming the edges once it dried. I decided the funnels themselves would have to be made as funnels before being attached to the frames, so I cut larger strips of tulle, rolled them into funnels, and glued. This was still extremely difficult, given the above-mentioned problem of gluing tule, but making it a single area to be glued instead of multiple was somewhat manageable (although this still left some of the "net" clogged with glue--at least it dried clear, and I picked out some with a needle). That said, the interior funnel was still much too wide. I decided to try two different methods of making the funnels. For the interior funnel, I figured the ring would be most visible on its exterior, so I placed the ring over the edge and slid it down to hold it into a better shape. I then glued the funnel to the frame, as seen. For the exterior funnel, which ended up much closer to the correct size, I figured the ring would be most visible looking in from the trap entrance, so I glued the ring to the funnel interior, as seen. I waited to attach the exterior funnel until later. Once the glue dried, I moved the interior funnel ring into the correct position and glued it, then cut off the excess tulle once it dried. As the funnel was too big, it looked very messy, but 1) it was still a net funnel! and 2) it was going to be mostly boxed in anyway. At this point, I also started making a buoy. I laminated two pieces of scrap 1/8th inch basswood and whittled and sanded for the body, and used my pin vice to make a joint to better attach the stick part (I have no clue what the correct terminology is). Growing up, my family had an old buoy as decoration, so I based my design on that one. Hence why the stick part (I'm sure there's a better word but this post is already long and I am tired) is cut off at an angle--the tip had broken off around a knot on our buoy. I also drilled out a hole for the rope, which almost split the tip. Then to the exterior funnel. I added a pre-painted slat at the correct height to make the entrance. I decided that gluing tulle was too much of a pain, so instead I wanted to sew it in place. Surely, I thought, this would be easier? I was mostly wrong. Sewing the tulle was a real pain in the neck. It had a real tendency to simply follow along with the thread instead of staying in place. After multiple failed tries, I ultimately had to glue down the four corners. This helped, but it was still difficult and every non-glued part pulled moved a lot, at least until it was halfway sewn on to the trap. The tulle moved so much that it partially ripped off from the ring, which had to be re-glued. The thread also had a tendency to stick to itself. Finally, though, I finished and tied it off. It was sloppy, but at least it worked. I noticed my spacing was a bit off on the left side, so I filled in the gap by tying a bit of string there. This helped a lot with reducing the irregularity, and isn't very noticeable. I also started attaching the pre-painted slats. After finishing off the slats--some of which had to be carefully placed between the loops of the line holding in the netting--I finally added three small "buttons" used to close off the trap lid on top. With that, the trap was finished! Overall, I'm happy with how it turned out, and I think it looks good in the dory, although I still need to finish the buoy and line. Would a lobster trap's line be more likely to be coiled in a line tub/bucket, or just left more loosely coiled on the thwart? A few thoughts on what I've learned: On pre-painting the slats with a black wash: after initially painting each slat separately after they were cut to size, a slow process, for the side slats I simply painted the entire strip before cutting to size, later adding a bit of wash at the ends. This ended up making the ends a bit too dark as the pigment in the wash was concentrated there, and I think it would look more consistent to paint the whole slat after cutting to size. I probably should have used a thread the same color as the tulle, but I don't think the black looks horribly put of place. In hindsight, I think it would have worked better to make the funnels mostly by sewing the tulle into shape, given how difficult it was to use the glue. The rings also probably should have been sewn instead of glued on. That said, tiny pieces of tulle are tricky enough to sew that this would still be frustrating. I wish I had gotten the frames more square to the base, but I think it looks good enough for something that a fisherman would have made himself. Next up: possibly a few more fishing tools, plus something else a bit larger.

Looks great! And thank you for the build log, this will be very helpful whenever my own lobster smack arrives!

Sorry for the long break between posts, I was traveling and finishing the trajinera. I've made good progress recently on the dory, though. The thwarts required a good bit of shaping to fit, including beveling the side edges and part of the slot (which would have been easier to cut with a small chisel instead of the no. 11 exacto blade I used), as can be seen in the photo. (I numbered the thwarts on the bottom to keep track of them.) It took a little while and a lot of test fittings, but they came out even in the end. As will be seen in later photos, I then added a sealer-varnish, as I did with the oars, which ever-so-slightly darkened the thwarts. Experiments with using washes for weathering elsewhere proved encouraging, so I ended up applying a very thin black wash to the hull in order to lightly weather it. I didn't want a severe weathering, but just a little suggestion of a bit of grime, as might accumulate after a short voyage or two. My error with the previous attempt at a wash (discussed above) was using too big a brush, which slopped on a ton of wash at once. This time, I used my smallest brush and had a lot more success. It's hard to see in photos, but I do think it adds a bit of character. I also applied a wash to the bailer, but I didn't like the way it turned out--it was very patchy. I ended up later painting a thin white wash over it, and I think it came out looking appropriately aged--while the dory might be relatively freshly painted, perhaps the fisherman cut costs with a used bailer. Next, the beckets. As nearly every build log mentions, the included rope is much too thick. I didn't want to shell out for international shipping with purpose-made modeling rope, so I hunted around a bit in fabric shops. None of the threads I found actually stated the width, so I eyeballed it and ended up with something perhaps a bit too thin. But, it will be useful for other lines on the boat, so I don't think it's a terrible issue. Plus, the beckets are pretty simple, so it will be easy to replace with thicker thread if it really bothers me in the future. The thread I got was white, so I dyed it a bit in the leftover black wash, which turned out ok. Following the kit instructions to attach the beckets worked perfectly, except that I used full-strength rather than watered-down glue, following suggestions in other build logs. I also tried a real stopper knot on the ends, but it was a little small, so I added a simple knot to make sure it wouldn't slip through. The knots were glued, too. Overall I'm happy with how the beckets turned out. Next, the thole pins. The squared-off wooden piece you cut them from is very thin and I found it hard to sand it fully round. Instead, I took off the edges a bit--necessary for it to effectively roll for the cutting method--and then only rounded a bit at a time, just enough for one or two thole pins, then cutting them and sanding the next bit. This worked well, and the cutting method given in the instructions worked perfectly. The instructions say that the thole pins are to be vertical. This doesn't follow any of the photos I've seen of actual dories, which have thole pins that follow the flare of the hull and which actually pass entirely through the cap rail and gunwales, as in this image from the International Small Craft Center: Accurately modeling this would require drilling through the gunwales at the correct angle and making longer thole pins. The drilling seems like something that could very easily go wrong, and I'm not sure if there's enough material for longer thole pins, so I decided to just angle the pins out as they would look on a real dory. I think the "vertical" should be taken to mean that the thole pins are vertical when viewed from the side, not completely vertical from all angles. At this point, the dory is complete by the instructions, except for making the stand. That said, I'm not marking this build log as "finished" yet, as there are a couple extra furnishings I'm working on that I'll be continuing to post about. Overall, though, I want to say that this has been a fantastic kit that I've really enjoyed. The pieces are well-cut, the instructions are very clear, and the kit has clearly been designed and made with care. I highly recommend it to anyone interested in starting up ship modeling (or anyone with experience who wants a simple, fun build). Anything I do to mess it up in the future stems from going off-kit to do my own additions.

Thanks for your kind words, and also for editing the title and pointing me toward how to do it myself. I was concerned at the start that this would be too simple a build for anyone to be interested in seeing it, but I'm glad that people found it interesting. Also, a note I forgot to include above: after I got everything assembled, I decided that the awning posts are a little longer than they should be. In the future when I'm scratch-building, I suppose I should actually use a drawing program to measure and scale things, rather than my current low-tech method of holding a ruler up to the computer screen!

Finished! After a lot of thought, I decided to name the trajinera after my wife's grandmother, who unexpectedly passed away a little over a year ago. Painting the name went ok. I was so happy that the first attempt wasn't a disaster that I only later noticed that the letters would look better if they were a little thicker, which wasn't hard to touch up (first attempt below, thicker letters in photo pf complete build). Ultimately I wasn't crazy about the black letters on a white background. If I had more time, I would probably try to do white letters on a blue background, and paint more of a curved line tracing along the top and bottom of the lettering. Also the lettering would look better if it were blockier, like the upper nameplate. Oh well, for next time! Also, the flower motif both fills in some blank space, and works as a reference to how earlier generations of canal boats in Mexico City were associated with transporting flowers for sale in the city's markets. Attaching the nameplate to the awning/posts was more complex than I anticipated. As can be seen below, the nameplates are actually collapsible, connected permanently with a rope to the middle support beam of the awning, which serves as a pivot point, and held upright with tied ropes around the posts at the bottom of each end of the arch. Untying these allows the nameplate to fold back over the awning. I decided that it would not be possible to make the model's nameplate collapsible, as it would be hard if not impossible to tie and untie such small knots. But I did want to represent these parts, even if inexactly. I tied bits of thread around the nameplate grid at the three points, then tied the bottom two off around the posts. So far, so good, although I cut one of these slightly too short and it was very frustrating to tie. For the center, replicating actual practice would require tying off the thread around the middle awning support beam, which was not possible as it was glued down. Maybe something I can do next time, but not this build--it would require planning ahead and adding in the rope prior to attaching the beam to the awning. Instead, looking for something that would represent this rather than accurately model it, I tied a big ugly knot, as can be seen on the middle thread below. All knots were secured with a bit of glue. I then raised the nameplate up to the correct height and stuck the big knot on the bottom of the beam. Not accurate, I'm aware, but it's pretty hard to see in any case. I used a few dabs of super glue to hold the nameplate in place. I then rubbed glue into the thread and held it in place downwards to try to get a natural hang before cutting it to size, although, as can be seen, this was not fully successful. Finally, I made a simple stand of basswood. Lacking sufficient time to paint it, I penciled in some details on the interior where they are only visible by taking off the model--maybe it can be painted later on the outside or something. This was then sealed. I also made the pole that they use to push the boat through the canals. When not in use, they're often propped at the stern against the projecting beams at the aft end of the awning. With that, the model was finished! (I'm not sure how to edit the title to reflect this). I'll probably make an album or something with more photos later. Notes from reflecting on this build: - Balsa wood: not even once. - Painting parts separately before construction, when possible, is the way to go. - When rigging, make sure to leave a lot of extra line to tie things off. - When making a lot of furnishings with repeated parts, it's more efficient to make all the pieces first to equal measurements before constructing the parts. - Plan ahead! Lack of doing so is why I was not able to properly attach the middle rope for the nameplate. - Relatedly, there are a lot of small details that got ignored in this build, like the wicker seats mentioned above, or the docking rope at the bow (I considered giving it a try, but lacking even pliers, I couldn't make a convincing docking ring or find something similar to purchase, and decided not to include it, as I didn't want to just glue the rope to the deck). In the future, I'd like to include more details. I also wish I had made some beer bottles to place on the table! - I wish I had done more to weather this model--as the photos show, a lot of trajineras are rather banged up, which makes sense given how many tourists there are and how crowded the canals are--but I still don't feel like I really know how to do convincing weathering. - I'm still not fully happy with the final hull dimensions, but as noted above, I didn't realize the issue with the hull being too narrow until I built the chairs. In the future, when scratch-building something for which the dimensions are a bit uncertain, it may be helpful to draw not just the hull, but a furnishing or something at scale, to try to get a sense of whether or not the dimensions are correct. Overall, though, this was a really fun build and a good experience. I'm pleased with how it turned out (although I would adjust the dimensions a bit in the future), and I had a great time designing and building everything. My wife's family is very happy with the model and have put it above the TV; her aunt is talking about getting a glass or clear plastic case to protect it from dust. Now for me to finish the dory, wait for the lobster smack to arrive, and perhaps make something small and simple (without a bunch of chairs!) in the meantime.

Thanks, glad to hear people are enjoying the posts! As for diving, I actually never have. I'm not much of a swimmer, sad to say. Using a diving bell sounds amazing, though. Thanks, I had no idea they did river tours in San Antonio! Sounds like a very relaxing way to pass an afternoon. Same concept as the trajinera rides, maybe a different hull design though. I'm getting close to finishing the build. Which is good, as I really don't want to try to repack everything to bring back to Mexico City to give as a gift later. A lot of trajineras use metal brackets to support the awning poles. I made mine out of card paper, scored at the angles, like the hull support brackets I mentioned in an earlier post. I wanted them to stand out slightly from the hull, so I painted them black and then did a single thin coat of red over them. I was pleased with how they turned out. And here they are attached to the posts: The "awning," made of sheet metal on the real thing, was painted green on the outside and grey inside. I used card to make the curved metal supports at the front and back of it, and used wood for the lengthwise supports, which slightly protrude at the aft edge. (The very edges at the sides were left unpainted so they would attach to the frame better). Before attaching the awning, I had to glue the seats and table in. I drew reference marks on paper to make sure the chairs would be more or less evenly spaced. With the deck furniture and awning attached, it looked pretty good, I thought! (Of course, a sharp eye will note that one chair leans a bit forward out of line with the rest. I decided against fixing it, as sanding the back legs down would result in a shorter chair. Oh well, it's not like the chairs on the real thing are nailed down or anything.) The last thing is really just to attach the decorative nameplate (not sure if that's the right term?) to the fore end of the awning, which will have to wait until tomorrow. I've been hard at work on the decorations, starting with the central V for Veracruz, the lower curved name plate, and the heart I decided to place in the V (my wife's family, who will receive this as a gift, have been incredibly welcoming to me). I've been having a much more fun time painting these than painting the chairs, even if my lines are a little wavy sometimes. Next up, the sugarcane motif that will flank the V. (My wife's hometown is in a sugar-growing region). First I drew out what I wanted, then roughly matched it in wood. While the rest of the decorations have used 1/16th inch basswood, I wanted something easier to work with for the curves, so I brought some thinner basswood scraps leftover from the dory build. (The lower nameplate, I should note, is still not glued on--waiting to get the name written first in case I completely screw it up and need a substantial repaint). Exciting (your reaction may vary) action shot! My wife wanted a shot if me using tweezers to test fit the cane pieces, so here it is! Finally, I painted them light green. All that's left at the moment is to paint on the name, attach the remaining decorations to the grating, and attach it to the awning/posts.

Good catch! That was a typo and should in fact be 7cm and not 7mm. Very interesting about the edge-joining techniques, thanks for sharing. I read somewhere that trajineras typically don't have very long service lives, the difficulty in repairing damaged planks likely contributes to that. That's a great idea for the chair, too! Next time I make one of these, I'll have to experiment a bit to find a good balance between what will look good and what won't drive me crazy to replicate ten or more times haha.

Forgot to mention above--using thread is a great idea! But definitely one that would require more time haha. I originally had vague hopes that, if I only did a single coat of paint on the chair seats, the wood grain would show through and make it look a bit, if one squinted and focused on other things, like a wicker weave. This of course didn't happen, it looked terrible so I just fully painted it. But in the future, thread could be very interesting.

Thanks! It's a lot of fun to plan everything out, although also a real challenge to get things reasonably to scale (especially given the issues I can't stop mentioning that I've had with the dimensions). I'm definitely learning a lot, though--especially that, in the future, I should really paint parts separately before construction if they'll be a pain to paint once built. I'm thinking especially of the chairs here. Thanks! Interestingly enough, nothing that I've seen, either in-person or through research, suggests that they have any real internal structure. In my own photos from 2018, this is clearest in the following image: In any case, the boards are apparently about 7mm thick (according to a source, cited in my first post, whose claims about dimensions I've increasingly become a bit skeptical about), which seems like enough to do without framing. In my first post, I challenged the common claim that trajineras are "traditional Aztec boats" by emphasizing that their construction and proportions differed from actual pre-Hispanic vessels, which were dugout canoes. But, to speculate, this lack of framing is perhaps a design legacy from those early vessels. I haven't seen frames in photos from trajineras from c.1900, either. Interestingly, the only trajinera with framing that I can find was one built by an arts group in 2011 in New York. (Some photos of the construction processat this link: https://theprojectdiary.wordpress.com/2011/07/21/building-“xochitl”-a-trajinera-at-the-gowanus-studio-space/ ). Oddly, their build not only has extensive framing, but also appears to have been built in three separate (and separately watertight?) sections, which is entirely different from those built in Mexico. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it can be taken apart for easier transport? Maybe the framing makes it easier to build compared to the traditional technique, which apparently uses a rather complex (I think, though I'm certainly not a carpenter) cross-nailing system to make a secure edge-to-edge joint? I don't really know. Thanks! Yes, Central Mexico is beautiful and has a great climate. I feel very lucky to get to spend so much time here. The major lakes also have what seems like a very interesting, if poorly documented, history of fishing vessels (more about which to come in a separate post.... maybe, if I can find more sources). Brief build update while I wait for some things to dry: I've painted and installed the awning posts and their support beams. Not much in terms of techniques to write about, the pictures can do the talking. I also put a sealer coat on the deck furnishings. Veracruz is very humid, so I don't want this to fall apart too soon. I also cut a card to size for the awning, which is made in real life of sheet metal. I lightly scored along the lengthwise edges to create a consistent small fold that will better attach to the support beams. Test fitting: Next steps: the awning is being painted green on the outside, grey on the inside, and will have a few bracings added. I also will be using card stock to make the metal brackets that often attach the awning posts to the sideboards (some just use a simple bolt instead, and some have an extra diagonal support, but I'm going with brackets for mine). Then I need to finish the decorations and fit everything together. Then a simple stand... if I have time.

Sorry for the long break between posts! As seen above, the trajinera was nowhere near complete when it came time to visit my in-laws, so I prepared what I could before leaving, packed everything, and have been hard at work here. First, I built the grating that supports the decorations on the fore end of the awning. Given the difficulty in finding basswood, and the unsuitability of balsa wood for this purpose, I tried out some other woods, nabbing a few coffee stir sticks at a cafe. Some were very stiff, splintery, and difficult to work with, but others were much better. I cut them lengthwise into three equal pieces and used that to build the grating. Later, I painted it black. I also cut the awning posts to size. I was curious to see if I could stiffen balsa wood with sealer to make them, but this ended up not working so I ultimately went with basswood. (Original balsa posts seen below during a test-fitting). Given the size of wood I had available, the posts are not completely accurate--they should be square--but laminating two pieces of 1/16th basswood and sanding it down to size would have taken too long under my time constraints. I decided it was an acceptable break from accuracy, and preferable to using flimsy balsa posts. Next up was painting the chairs. As can be seen in earlier posts, they come in a wide variety of colors and patterns. I attempted to give mine an interesting pattern. Painting the chairs was a real pain in the neck--so many nooks and crannies! I should note that they're still not glued into place--I'm saving that for the final assembly. Next, the table. Earlier I had made the surface by gluing some strips edgewise and sanding the edges until it was the right width (it can be seen painted ochre to the top right in the photo above). But there were a few extra steps. Photos of trajineras suggested there were three support beams running across the bottom of the table, so I added those. I also saw that the "legs" were a number of sawhorses. I tried to get these right--like the chairs, they were a pain in the neck to make!--but made a few deviations from reality. First, I used slightly thicker wood than would be to scale so that there would be a bit more surface area for the glue to work with, as I didn't want the table snapping off too easily. Second, while most photos of a large trajinera show three sawhorses, only two really fit well on mine. While this might be partly related to my having used larger pieces, I think it fundamentally comes down to the same issue I had with the chairs--the dimensions I am working with are a bit off. Oh well, two will work. (Above: table with bottom cross-supports on left, awning poles on right, and first sawhorse under construction at center.) The sawhorses are far from perfect, but they will be largely blocked from view by the table and the chairs. Thank goodness!!! At this point, I also added a protective sealer coat on the hull. Once that dried, I took a look at how everything was coming together. Despite the many issues I've had, I'm having a great time making this. Finally, I started work on the decorations. These will be handpainted. I'm telling myself that I'm going to have to live with imperfections here--the real vessels can certainly look a little rough up close! So far I've done the uppermost piece, which is the most straightforward. It often is decorated with a town name in the center and flags on the sides. I decided to go with my in-laws' town name, and two Mexican flags (minus the eagle-on-a-cactus crest, which is usually left off on actual trajineras--see above). Having never painted a name before, I was worried about getting the proportions wrong, so I started from the middle letter outwards. The first attempt looked terrible and I had to laugh. Subsequent coats and touch-ups helped a lot, though. I also realized that the flag colors were hard to pick out against the black background, so I extended the yellow edge of the piece to also border the flags a bit. Despite the lettering being a bit off, I'm ok with how it turned out, although for the other pieces I'll probably start with a white base and go with black lettering. The black background made it take too many coats for lighter colors to be clear. And here it is on the grating. I'm enjoying seeing things coming together!

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.