A professional modeler

reveals the secrets of

how to amass a
valuable collection of
ship models

Bjorn Landstrom’s
illustration of Vasco Da
Gama’s 1497 flagship, Sao
Gabriel, a caravel of about
90ft. The precise detail of the
image explains how this
meticulous artist could be
attracted to model making.

Note: This ‘Two Part’ article

comes from a devoted man to
a hobby as well as to his
profession and wished to tell
of the history of building and
collecting of Scale Ship
Models. Hope you enjoy the
article
----------------------
egular readers of sea classic

R novels, ship histories, as well

as sea venture history most
likely have visited maritime
museums and therefore appreciate
how the numerous precisely
executed ship models on display
Above: Mamoli kit of a ship they title
enhance one’s understanding of Naval
“Caracca Atlantica Sao Miguel,” a more-or-
history. You may even be a ship model
less generic type which is representative of
builder, or collector. I’ve frequently made
use of pictures of ship models and both Da Gama’s Sao Gabriel and
miniature nautical dioramas to illustrate Magellan’s Flota of the 1520s.
my historical articles on ships and
seafaring. They usually provide a clearer
image of the actual ship than do hasty, blurry action photographs of the vessels or
paintings and woodcuts by landlubberly artists who distort the proportions and fudge the
details. It’s particularly true of depictions of ships before the advent of photography in
the 1830's. Further, the model allows one to examine the “full hull” perspective - often
lacking in illustrations of ships at sea - as well as to examine the ship from a variety of
angles.
My use of illustrations employing lilliputian facsimiles reflects my fascination with
building and collecting ship models. It also relates to how I first became interested in
taking up maritime history and current military and Naval affairs. My connection with
ship models [See Below] may interest those readers with a similar inclination. It was
my early involvement with ship modeling that eventually led to my second career as a
maritime historian.
------------------------------------

MY GATEWAY TO NAUTICAL RESEARCH

I was in seventh grade, living in a desolate small New Jersey seacoast town in the early
1950s. Other than Saturday movie matinees, where one might indulge fantasies about pirate
treasure and great Naval battles, there wasn’t much in the way of amusement for a pre-
adolescent. We enjoyed great views of the Atlantic Ocean from atop sand dunes or the nearby
Absecon Lighthouse. With 25-power Navy binoculars, I could catch glimpses of passing tankers,
tramp freighters, fishing trawlers, and the occasional ocean liner out to the horizon. One dreary
afternoon, sometime in late 1952, my eye was attracted to a local hobby ship window where
some boxes were on display featuring action paintings of famous sailing ships. Even more eye-
catching were some completed models in the exhibit specially assembled at the model factory.
They were rendered in plastic and the kit box art and captions promised an easy path to achieving
results depicted in the art and sample model.
I previously tried my hand at some wood ship models, but had cut my finger severely
with an Exacto knife when carving a wooden hull - a Cleveland’s balsa kit of a Fletcher-class
destroyer. I really wanted to complete the model that looked to be a simple task as illustrated on
the kit box and the instruction sheet. But that accident put an end to my model-making efforts in
wood. All hope was not lost. The early 1950s was the dawn of plastic modeling. A company
named Gowland & Gowland, soon to become known as Revell, produced a series of small
waterline “Shipyard Ships in Miniature.” It was the glimpse of this particular line of plastic kits,
mentioned earlier, that attracted me to the hobby shop. The scale was not indicated but they all
had to fit the same-size box and on the same plastic simulated sea base. I believe they were
around 4-in long, so the scale ranged from 1/270 for the Golden Hind to about 1/600 for the USS
Constitution. The Gowland box top promised a “quick construction kit.” Much to my delight,
the opened box revealed a medley of meticulously formed components, all molded in “high-
impact polystyrene,” a translucent soapy off white substance that immediately captured the
essence of Drake’s elegant English galleon, the Golden Hind, my first effort.
I learned that I needed special glue to bond the polystyrene, sending me back to the hobby
shop. Further, the instructions specified an enamel or oil-based paint as lacquer might wrinkle
the surface of the plastic. Having procured the necessary finishing touches, I found that
assembling the model was every bit as easy as promised. The most difficult part, aside for the
painting, was affixing the thin flexible plastic sheet “ratlines” to the mast and hull. Even with
tweezers, it was difficult to get the springy little strips to line up and adhere to both the hull and
willowy mast and hull. I recall that the painting was particularly challenging, with all those
intricate geometrical patterns on the quarterdeck bulwarks and the transom. Even with ultra-fine
brushes, the task required a very steady hand and infinite patience. The finished model was a
gem. Best of all, it sent me back to my neglected schoolbooks to discern the history behind Sit
Francis Drake’s little galleon and to see what she may have really looked like.
Within a few months, the Golden Hind was joined by all nine remaining ship in the
series, including Bon Homme Richard, Constitution, a Treasury department revenue cutter, the
first transatlantic steam-powered vessel Savannah, the clipper Flying Cloud, and the latest entry
being the Grand Banks fishing schooner Gertrude L. Thebaud of 1929. As the collection grew,
so did my little bookshelf of nautical references - Morison’s series on the great seafaring
explorers, Potter and Nimitz’s marvelous Naval Academy text on Sea Power, Mahan’s reference
works and more, I had ample material for book reports and all manner of class projects entailing
“show and tell” sessions with my model ships. While no teacher’s pet by any means, I was
definitely on track towards higher education, which had been seriously in doubt up to that point.
I don’t know whether I had what is now diagnosed as Attention Deficit Disorder, or I was just
too much of a daydreamer to stick to the books. Whatever the cause, building ship models got
me on the right track.
Later, I moved on from the Gowland classics to Revell and Monogram’s Forrestal-class
CVs, Fletcher- class destroyers (enticing me to examine Roscoe’s lively book on the tin cans at
war), Monograms replica of the “Mighty Mo,” and a whole armada more. Bedroom clutter, in
my mother’s view, was more than compensated by my new-found interest in books and research.
It goes without saying that solid scholarly investigation is indispensable if one is to accurately
paint and assemble his or her maritime facsimile precisely as the real vessel might have appeared
at a certain point in time.
I had little space in my college dorm room to store nautical mock-ups until a trip to New
York led me to a shop in the Port Authority Bus Terminal complex that specialized in ready-built
1/1200 and 1/1250 scale metal Lilliputian warships produced by firms such as Trident, Superior,
Mercator, Wiking, Alnavco, and Navis. I made a 15-in square showcase for my collection which
could be sheltered on the dozen or so ledges and protected from dust and prying hands with a
glass cover. This line of metal model warships will be familiar to those who like to play Naval
war games, although today they are being replaced by 1/2400, 1/3000 and 1/6000 scale models
for that purpose - which are more line markers than models. After all, 15,000 scale feet in
1/1200 - a reasonable distance for opening salvoes - requires no less than 38-ft of playing surface.
Much to my chagrin, I found that a career in Naval history did not put one on the fast-
track to monetary compensation. I eventually settled for a livelihood in tax law consulting,
which occupied my waking hours, allowing only the odd moment to pursue my side interest in
modeling and military/Naval history. In 1971, my tax work in the Washington, DC, area brought
me to the offices of an organization known as the Historical Evaluation and Research
Organization (HERO). While interviewing the director, the distinguished military historian
Trevor Dupuy, I mentioned by abiding interest in the history of warfare. This led to a consulting
contract on a weapons lethality database he was compiling of the Department of Defense. From
that time forward, I was able to get my work published on an eclectic range of military and Naval
projects.
As advancing old age had rendered my hands clumsy with arthritis, I’ve had to terminate
my model building and rely upon the work of craftsmen purveying finished models on the
internet. The expense of completing my collection in this way has greatly curtailed my model
fleet.

-------------------------------

As the following text and photos will show, ship models have been an integral
part of our culture for thousands of years. While intuitive logic or statistics may
demonstrate that model aircraft, cars, or tanks are more popular subjects for hobbyists,
there is certain majestic, eternal quality in the model of a proud galleon, clipper, ship of
the line, heavy cruiser, destroyer, PT boat, pleasure yacht, or even the lowly tramp
steamer. Because it is difficult to display massive full-size ships in a museum setting,
their diminutive replicas are also a vital element in educating the general public about
its maritime heritage. The history-model connection can be demonstrated by the utility
of models, be they scratch-built, kit-built, or “off the shelf” fully assembled models, to
eminent authors and public figures in the Naval historical field.

SOME NOTABLE MARITIME AUTHORS AND SCALE MODELING

It is no coincidence that some
of the most respected Naval
historians are also avid builders or
collectors of model ships. One
notable example is Roger Charles
Anderson whose nautical articles
and books, spanning the years
1905-1955, demonstrate the
synergy between the model and
historical exposition. His most
famous book expressly for the
model shipwright is The Rigging of
Example of “bread-and-butter” model construction. Ships in the Days of the Spritsail
and Topsail 1600-1720 and for the
collector or connoisseur, his expertly annotated Catalog of Ship Models in the National
Maritime Museum. Anderson was himself a builder of ship models and he used models
that he built or purchased to illustrate some of his most erudite and esteemed books on
Naval history, notable Oared Fighting Ships, Naval Wars in the Levant, 1559-1853, and
Naval Wars in the Baltic, 1522-1850.
Howard I. Chapelle, the renowned authority on American sailing ships and boats,
marine architect and historian, and long-time curator of the Smithsonian Institution’s
 Drawing by Howard Chapelle

National Water-craft Collection, was an avid

model builder and collector. He frequently
contributed to ship modeling journals and
drafted ships plans scaled down to the
standard museum model sizes. He supervised
the commissioning, building, and collecting of
the superb assemblage of ship models on
display at the American Museum of History and
Technology in Washington, DC. While at the
Museum, he also directed the planning and
construction of hundreds of ship models for the
Hall of Merchant Shipping. Chapelle retired in
1971, becoming Historian Emeritus in the
Museum. A prolific writer, he authored a
number of books on maritime history and Illustration of the kind of plans useful to
marine architecture in addition to his ship the scratch-builder.
modeling essays. The most highly skilled
scratch-builders regularly solicit copies of
Chapelle’s drawings and general arrangement plans from the Smithsonian’s collection.
He also wrote pamphlets aimed at ship modelers, such as Pioneer Steamship
Savannah: Study for a Scale Model. The description, taken from the first page, will give
you a good idea of Chapelle’s dedication to promoting accurate model ships:
 “The original plans of the pioneer
transatlantic steamer Savannah no longer
exist, and many popular representations of
the famous vessel have been based on a
70-yr-old model in the United States
National Museum. This model, however,
differs in several important respects from
contemporary illustrations. To correct these
apparent inaccuracies in a new, authentic
model, a reconstruction of the original plans
was undertaken, using as sources the ship’s
logbook and customhouse description, a
French report on American steam vessels
published in 1823, and Russian newspaper
accounts contemporary with the Savannah’s
visit to St. Petersburg on her historic voyage Modern copy of the Mataro model. The
of 1819.” resemblance to the theoretical Santa Maria
Vice Admiral William Ledyard is striking. This builder opts for the single
Rodgers, wrote Greek and Roman Naval mast as shown on the original.
Warfare, A Study of Strategy, Tactics and

This interpretation of the

Mataro model postulates
that two masts were
originally fitted instead of
the single mast shown on
the original model.
Typical church votive hanging up in a nave of a church; the Careful study of the
workmanship is somewhat crude, but sufficient to identify original indicates that there
as mid-19th Century. Since the models were displayed so as to was a second mast,
show the undersides to parishioners, the deck details were but experts differ on this
often fudged. detail.

Ship Design from Salamis (480 BC) to Actium (1937), and Naval Warfare Under Oars,
 4th to 16th Centuries, A
Study of Strategy, Tactics
and Ship Design. These
studies are classics on
these subjects, still valuable
today even though written
in the 1930s. They used
scale models to illustrate
how the author thought
ancient and medieval
warships were propelled

Prisoner-of-war model displayed at Rosenborg Slot

(Rosenborg Castle) in Copenhagen.

A 1/12th scale model of the

ancient “ferriby boat” found in
England in the 1930s. The
original boat dates from the
late-Stone Age.

and manned. He was

particularly engrossed with
that perennial problem of
warship configuration, the
Greek, then the Roman,
treieres or trireme. The
models in this book provide
1/1250 scale die-cast models of various ship. One can get a
an interesting exercise in
very good idea of the relative sizes of the vessels with displays
modeling to ascertain
in this scale. historical accuracy, but
have since proven to be
erroneous.
Bjorn Landstrom, the famous Finnish writer and illustrator of excellent maritime
books, such as Ship: Illustrated History(1961), Columbus (1966) and Ships of the
Pharaohs: 4000 years of Egyptian Shipbuilding (1970, was also a model builder, which
assisted him in crafting his excellent illustrations for his books. Using scraps of
information gleaned from old woodcuts and paintings depicting analogous vessels,
Landstrom worked up scale models that were well-educated guesses, and then, based
upon the miniatures, fashioned his scrupulous illustrations of ancient Egyptian ships,
Greek, and Roman galleys, and the fabled ships of the great explorers.
One of the most-famous model ship aficionados was John F. Kennedy, who
displayed some fine models of US-connected warships in the White House during his
presidency. Models of his famed PT-109 are a staple of ready-builds and model kits.
Franklin Delano Roosevelt was another US President who had a predilection for
collecting and displaying ship models throughout his long career in public service, most
notably connected with the Navy as well as presiding as wartime commander in chief
over a Navy second to none.
The connection between ship and Navy enthusiasts and model building or
collecting is deep-seated. I recently purchased a rather expensive book on the ancient
Roman Navy (author’s own is currently in preparation for McFarland Publishing). The
author, Michael Pitassi, demonstrated the likely appearance of some of the ancient
warships and merchant vessels by building models and photographing them for the
book. Since the actual configuration of the ancient Biremes, triremes, and quadriremes
are a long-standing historical puzzle, models are an ideal way for an author to
demonstrate his or her submission in the competition for “most accurate” depiction.
The noted Naval historian and maritime archaeologist John Morison, formed the
“Trireme trust” to construct a working full-scale replica of a Greek trieres (trireme). This
ship is owned and operated by the modern Greek Navy. Before (and after) building this
working replica, Morison and his associates built many small scale models which are on
display in various museums. Lets not forget that the key figures of professional and
recreational Naval war-gaming, Fred T. Jane, and Fletcher Pratt, realized that building
or buying accurate and usable scale models comprise an essential component of their
battle simulations.

A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE MODEL SHIP

Model ships have a history as long as civilization itself. Crude clay reproductions
of early dugout canoe-like craft have been found in prehistoric archeological dig sites.
They may have been simply toys for
children, but more likely were some
kind of amulet to bring good fortune to
the bearer. Those ship models found
in the tombs of Egyptian pharaohs,
some dating as early as 2000 BC, were
definitely religious totems, meant to
convey the deceased to the afterlife.
In fact, a full-size replica of a Nile ship
was found in the tomb of the Pharaoh
Cheops. It provided great insight as to
how the ancient Egyptians actually built 1/100 scale model of the Wasa, based on the
their ships, although ships built for recovered and restored sunken Swedish warship
actual sailing rather than for ceremonial
from the mid-1600s
purposes would have been more
seaworthy than the delicate Cheops
boat. Also, several boat and ship models were found in the tomb of Tutankhamen,
dating back the Sixth Dynasty, and at Meketra (2061-2010). The wide variety of
vessels depicted by the models in these tombs
has provided archaeologists new information on
HMS Devastation, National
the types of boats that were used in Egypt,
causing maritime historians to re-evaluate earlier Maritime Museum, Greenwich.
opinions that the ancient Egyptians confined Full hull models are useful to the
their journeys to tranquil inland waters. Naval history buff in revealing the
undersides of ships, something
which is rarely depicted in art

Ancient Greek ship models

were used as burial or votive
offerings to appease the various gods
controlling the oceans and the
weather and were also configured for
double-duty as household articles
such as lamps or drinking vessels.
One model, acquired by the
Staatliche Museum in Kassel,
Germany, has served to show
archaeologists and historians what a
warship called a hemiola was like. In
particular, it illustrates the likely
seating arrangement of the oarsmen,
something only conjectured until the
model was discovered.
Archaeologists have tentatively dated
the Kassel model to be from the 6th or
5th centuries BC through iconographic HMS Endeavour, Cooke’s ship, sectional cutaway
and literary sources. Unfortunately revealing the interior, National Maritime Museum,
no contemporary replicas of the Greenwich.
trireme have been discovered, and so
modern archaeologists and maritime historians continue to make educated guesses
about the actual oar arrangement for this notable ancient warship. Hence the above-
mentioned Trireme Trust and the miniature trireme replicas. Modern kit manufacturers
and model builders have made some interesting conjectures, however.
Ship models are helpful to archaeologists in that they allow them to make
estimates regarding the real-life size of the various ancient vessels depicted.
Archaeologists are able to calculate these estimates of size by employing a series of
assumptions about the distance between benches, the lateral distance between rowers,
and a likely maximum draft of the vessel. The greatly assists them in trying to
reconstruct the shape and size of sunken ships from a debris field on the sea bottom.
Models built from these calculations have been invaluable in imparting the nature of the
ancient vessels to researchers and the interested public.
In the medieval epoch, with the spread of Christianity, came a practice in seaside
churches, where fishermen and merchant families worshiped, and the ancient custom
of entombing sacerdotal models useful in the after-life morphed into the so-called
“votive model.” These mock-ups are rough models of ships most often utilized by the
seafaring congregation and were used in making special prayers either to the Virgin
Mary, or to several saints known to bless seamen before they undertook a perilous
voyage. The models were not meticulous replicas, but only ballpark approximations,
especially as they were mostly viewed from below because they were suspended from
the ceiling beams of churches and cathedrals. While a few were authentic facsimiles,
most were more like toys than models. In any event, these models were also helpful to
maritime historians in reconstructing what ship looked like in the era before the use of
blueprints around the mid-17th Century. In fact, one particular votive model, the so
called Mataro Model, has become famous.

Early academic work about the 15th and 16th Century ships of discovery was
based on the interpretation of written documents and artistic representations; few
tangible three-dimensional objects were available for scrutiny. In 1929, however, Naval
archaeology took a new turn with the discovery and examination of a singular example
of the art of medieval shipwrights, the votive model from a Catalonian church in Mataro,
Spain. The 15th-Century model, which was passed through the hands of art collectors,
had been crafted with contemporary shipbuilding skills faithfully reproduced in minature.
The unique effigy, now in the collect of the Prins Hendrik Maritime Museum in
Rotterdam, was studied by several scholars who variously pronounced it to be a caravel
or a nao. While the differences between these two vessels are not entirely clear, it is
generally thought that the caravel was a shallow-draft, fast, and easily maneuverable
vessel, whereas the nao was principally a payload ship that supplied the fleet. As the
only three-dimensional representation of either ship type, the Mataro model provided
the first physical clues as to how these vessels actually were built and rigged. It is
widely regarded as an early version of Columbus’ flagship, the Santa Maria, and its
discovery and study has resulted in what are probably more accurate representations of
the Santa Maria than was conjectured before the Mataro model was studied.
While the votive ships, like th Mataro nao, are often treasure troves of
information about early shipbuilding and provide information which would be otherwise
lost to us, it was not until the 1700s that ruly reliable data became available. Until the
early-18th Century, virtually all European small craft and may larger vessels were built
without the benefit of formal drafts of plans or blueprints. In order to show prospective
costumers what the finished vessel would look like, shipwrights would build models to
demonstrate the fine lines and advanced building techniques of the ultimate finished
product.
Before a fighting ship was built, the Navy required that a very detailed model of
her be constructed. The practice was formalized by the official Admiralty order in 1715,
although later, under pressure of the French wars, it was not always adhered to. While
the practice was made official in the early 1700s, there are a number of wonderful
dockyard models from the
mid-to-late 1600s in
museums and private
collections. Model making
evolved into a highly skilled
craft and their value at the
time they were made is
illustrated by the story of
Samuel Pepys during the
Fire of London in 1666
making sure he collected his
important papers - and also
his ship models - from the
“Nautical decor” built model of a “tramp steamer.” A fairly Navy Office. There is also a
imprecise, rough depiction of something that might pass for the famous painting from the
subject to the untrained eye, suitable for display on the late-1600s showing Pepys
bookshelf or mantel of a nautically minded homeowner. and various Admiralty
officials passing around and
Contrast this model to the model of the SS Bamenda Palm
examining a dockyard
(which is shown in Part II of this article)
model.
Such ship models
built for the Royal Navy were known as Admiralty models, mainly constructed during the
18th and 19th centuries. These were the products of artisans working for the several
principal shipwrights producing warships for the RN. Many of these models did not
show the actual timbering or framing, but they did illustrate the deck details, furnishings,
masts, spars, and the general arrangement of the vessels. Some of the more
interesting models, however, did demonstrate the internal construction technique by
having one side of the model partially stripped of the planking to reveal the framing and
internal skeleton, and the method of fastening the planks. One of the more striking
features of the models was the decoration by small-scale carvings replicating the lavish,
intricate detail of the full-sized vessel.
Some royal dockyards had special workshops where model makers trained. A
commercial yard like Buckler’s Hard in Hampshire, where a number of large ships were
built for the Royal Navy, also undertook such work, and there were a number of private
firms of model makers. These builders’ models, constructed entirely in boxwood, are
exquisite examples of the craft. A particularly fine collection can be seen at the
National Maritime Museum in Greenwich, England. If one is lucky enough to find an
overlooked Admiralty model for sale (museums have snapped up practically all extant
specimens) you have to be as wealthy as a Trump, Gates or Buffet to purchase them
for a private collection.
The Rogers Ship Model Collection housed at the US Naval Academy in
Annapolis, Maryland, includes 108 ship and boat models of the sailing ship-era dating
from 1650 to 1850, most of which are scale models built for the British Admiralty.
The practice of building models as “salesman’s samples” became popular during
the steam era. Firms such as Gibbs & Cox produced lavish scale models (usually in
1/48th scale) for the benefit of ship-owners or shipping lines. Many of these were also
produced with respect to US (and foreign) Naval forces. If you live on the eastern
seaboard of the US, you can find quite a few of them on display at the Mariner’s
Museum in Norfolk, Virginia, at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, or ast the Smithsonian
Museum of American History and Technology in Washington, DC. They have become
known as “builder’s models” or “board room models,” the latter because the shipping
tycoons like to exhibit them in their corporate headquarters.
Cruise lines commission precise builder’s models for the offices of CEOs, as well
as smaller, and less detailed, (usually 1/200 to 1/400 scale) models of their new-builds
to display in travel agencies. The travel agency models are often for sale on - for
between $200 and $1000+. Firms such as Model-masters and Maritime Replicas, Inc.
will sell these models to the public, but for around $1500 to $3500 depending on the
ship. Alexander Scherbak, a collector and connoisseur of these models, offers his own
merchandise, consisting of liners and cruise ship models in uniform 1/900 scale for
around $250 to $400. His idea in using the 1/900th scale is that the models would be
small enough to display in the average home den but large enough to provide ample
details. These entrepreneurs also produce precise models of warships, freighters,
tankers, oil industry workboats, tugs and anchor-handling supply ships, and fishing
trawlers, which can be purchased for between $750 and $3000. In the 1930s and
1940s, the American firm of Boucher-Lewis also was a prominent pioneer producer of
model kits and fittings marketed under the name of Boucher alone.
However, most of the models discussed so far are not practical for the ship
enthusiast of modest means. For “every-man’s” model ships we have to look to the
manufactures of unassembled kits of varying degrees of complexity. Before getting into
the commercial kit market, we should take a look at the “from memory” models
produced by seamen, both serving and retired. The sailor-built models are sometimes
synonymous with “folk art” and are roughly to model-making what the American
“primitive” school of the late-1800s was to painting. They are “amateurs” in the field of
model-making as compared to, say, the builders of the Admiralty models, but they knew
their subjects well, even if they went about their craft “unscientifically.”

SAILOR-BUILT MODELS: NAPOLEONICS AND THE OTHERS

Some of the earliest extant models that wee not built for votive purposes or
official Naval circles are “sailor-built” specimens that, as the title indicates, were built by
seamen to represent the ships on which they served. One of the most notable groups
of such models were the so-called “prisoner of war” models mostly built by French
POWs incarcerated in English prison ships during the Napoleonic Wars. Considering
the harsh conditions under which they were built, these are amazingly precise, many of
them being housed in museums or the private collections of wealthy connoisseur.
Once in a while, Sotheby’s will auction them for $10-$50,000 a piece. They wee mostly
made from discarded mutton bones salvaged from the prison rations. British authorities
provided some crude instruments to the prisoners as the sale of these models in stalls
just outside the ship hulks that serves as prisons provided some small income for the
prisoners so they could purchase necessary items for their comfort from guards and

1/700 scale waterline model of the SS Drumeith. This is a typical tramp steamer of the period.
Built 1905, length 355-ft, beam 48-ft, grt 3833.

wardens. The models were sold to the public in stalls near the prison ship wharf, which
responded by supplying the prisoners with ivory so that the models would be more
decorative. For the most part, the models had carved wooden hulls with rigging made
from human hair, horsehair , silk, or whatever other fine material could be obtained.
Bone or ivory would be used for masts and spars, and as a thin veneer over the hull.
These prisoners’ models, mostly of wood, but sometimes of bone and ivory, are
surprisingly accurate, considering that they were built from memory rather than from
plans or illustrations and with crude tools under cramped, uncomfortable
circumstances. Of course, without access to plans, the models did not conform to any
standard of scale. They wee usually anywhere between 6- or 7-in to a foot or so long.
Thus scale could not be consistent.
Apart from the Napoleonic War prisoner’s models, there were a variety of sailor-
made models produced from the mid- to late-1800s. Most of these were rather rough
and fall under the category of folk art rather than precision craftsmanship. Just as
whalers would carve intricate patterns (scrimshaw) on whale-bone to sell when they
returned home, some sailors would use the off-watch hours to craft miniature replicas of
their ships. It’s more likely that the better specimens that have come down to us were
built after the sailor retired and were built in home workshops rather than aboard ship.
They were not made from plans but from memory and based on intimate
knowledge of all areas of the vessel. Sometimes a photo or painting was used to help
jog the memory. Needless to say, there was no consistency with respect to scale,
although the better examples managed to keep the ratios of the ship’s hull, decks,
fittings, masts, and rigging in rough proportion.
What the sailor lacked in accurate draftsmanship, he made up in charm and
picturesque finishing touches. Som of these sailor-builders placed their handiwork in
hanging “shadow box” picture frames and so rendered them as half-models, a kind of 3-
D wall display. One of the distinguishing marks of this handiwork is the addition of
various minuscule crewmen on deck or in the rigging, as well as whales or shark-fins
and seagulls dotting a simulated sea base.

END OF PART I
WORD COUNT: 5,255