B00I8BCQ6O EBOK

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B00I8BCQ6O EBOK Page 16

by Unknown


  After more than an hour, they had come upon the big barn on the far edge of the island. It was an imposing structure, much larger than the house, painted a cream color and looking very sturdy. Neither of them had been to the barn before. Mike was in the process of opening the door when Rokka walked up.

  "I wondered where you were this morning," he said smiling.

  "Just decided to take a walk," Mike said a little sheepishly. "We were admiring your barn, he said. I remember a barn like this at home. I had so much fun in it."

  Rokka nodded. "It is a good barn. I built it with my sons. When I miss them, I usually come out here and smell the smells and look at what their hands did," he said with a sigh. "Would you like to come in?

  "We'd love to," Jo said.

  With that, Rokka undid the latch and opened the big doors.

  It was like a cavern inside. There was a long central area with stalls on either side. Each stall was filled with some sort of tools or stood empty waiting for an animal to occupy it. Rokka switched on the lights and the darkness was filled with light.

  Mike was impressed. Everything was in order and in its place. The posts were all painted white, along with the stall dividers. The ceiling was four meters above them, the joists dark from age. The floor was dirt, except for some of the stalls, which seemed to have a wooden floor about a foot off the ground. These were the ones with tools or other implements in them.

  It was the smell that brought up the ideas of what a barn should be - the semi-sweet, musty smell of fresh grass and hay with a little decay thrown in. The only thing missing was the smell of livestock. They all three walked through the barn quietly, soaking it in.

  Jo noticed a door with what seemed like a set of enclosed steps off to one side. "What's up there?" she asked pointing.

  Rokka looked at where she was pointing. "That is my old sail loft. For a while I was the leading designer of sail powered vessels. If Brana and his men would let me I would still be sailing on the lake. Would you like to see?" he asked.

  "Sure," Mike said. His curiosity was piqued.

  Rokka walked to the door covered with cobwebs. It was obvious that no one had been in the loft for a long time. He undid a latch and pulled on the handle. The door opened with a creak as the cobwebs fell away. As he ascended the stairs, Mike and Jo followed him.

  When they reached the top of the stairs, Rokka flipped a switch and the lights from overhead lit the whole loft. Mike was amazed at the size of it. It covered the entire area of the barn itself and there were no posts, columns or any other bracing from the floor. It was a simple clean wide area of working space. The floor was dusty, but the varnished wooden planks were smooth and shiny. Along the walls were shelves holding canvas and some finished sails. Several sails were hanging from rafters. In one corner were basket-like structures, some boats, canoes and kayak-like craft. There were even carriage-like vehicles with spoke wheels.

  Beside a long and purposefully equipped worktable were a variety of hanging wires, ropes and pulleys lining the remaining wall. Even the sewing machines were covered to keep them clean and ready for use. The other side of the worktable held long tubes of various shapes and sizes, which Rokka had obviously used as masts. In the far corner were other large structures covered with canvas. It was a huge workshop built for someone who loved sailing.

  Rokka looked around the loft with noticeable pride. "My sons and I used this place to experiment with different cloth and sail plans. The ships using my sails and plans were always the fastest," he said walking along the wall. He occasionally reached up and felt of some of the sails or other equipment.

  He finally came to the large structures covered in canvas. He reached up and pulled the cover off. "We even experimented with these. I found a shape that more efficiently makes use of the wind. They pulled so strongly I was sometimes afraid that they would lift the ship from the water," he said as he revealed a number of wing-like structures he had used to improve sailing. "We experimented with different materials to find the best ones. We even tested some new engines which have but one cycle to act as an extra pulling device," he said.

  Then as he sniffed the air, he shook his head. "Let me clear some of this stale air."

  Rokka went to the wall and turned another switch. Above them some vents opened as propeller-like fans began to spin rapidly clearing the air.

  "Where did you get those?" Mike asked pointing at the fans. There was something familiar about them.

  Rokka shrugged his shoulders. "They are shaped like my new sails. They seem to work more efficiently than the old paddle fans," he said. Rokka walked to a place at the worktable and uncovered a four bladed propeller. He handed it to Mike. "See the shape. It really moves air. The shape of the surface creates a slight vacuum and pulls the air more efficiently," he said as if instructing a student.

  Jo was intent on the wing like shapes Rokka had uncovered. She was beside them moving them around for a better look. Hearing his conversation, suddenly she became very excited. "Mike, come over here," she cried out.

  Mike held onto the propeller and walked over to look at what Jo was so excited about. Suddenly his eyes opened wide as he ran his hand over the taught surface. He looked at Jo in amazement.

  "My god, it's a wing!" he exclaimed.

  Rokka clearly didn't understand the excitement. He narrowed his eyes and asked, "What is this wing?"

  Jo's excitement was growing. She looked at Mike. "They don't have birds here. They can't know!"

  "Are you thinking what I am?" he asked.

  Jo grabbed his hand and looked at the propeller. She gazed at him. "Oh Mike. We could all get out of here."

  Rokka was totally in the dark. They were saying things like getting away and things called birds, neither of which he could fathom. "What are you speaking of. These wings and what are birds?"

  Mike looked at his friend. His excitement barely contained. "Please," he said, “Would you mind if we used these things to build something we know of? It would mean so much to us."

  "Of course. But I don't understand."

  "Just watch us," Mike said, “You will soon know everything."

  Then Mike and Jo rushed over and began pawing through the wings stacked in the corner. Within minutes they had found two large symmetrical wings and had placed them on the wide floor. Next they began rummaging through the carriage sections and found something Rokka had said he used to move the kayaks around. It had two larger spoke wheels in the back with a steerable smaller one wheel in front. More rummaging produced smaller steering surfaces that Rokka had used in his invention of an automatic steering system for small craft. They were the exact size for stabilization.

  Through it all, Rokka watched with interest. After nearly an hour, most of what Jo and Mike were looking for was laid out on the floor in front of them. Then things stopped.

  Mike looked over the pieces arrayed on the floor and then turned to Jo. "Now how do we put it together," he asked. Jo began looking around the worktable for nuts and bolts, while Mike looked elsewhere.

  Rokka watched their search and asked, "What are you looking for? Maybe I can help."

  "We want to put most of this together for a special vehicle," Mike said.

  "Do you have some connectors like nuts and bolts we could use to connect the pieces," Jo asked?

  Rokka walked to a small closet and opened the door. The whole closet was neatly cataloged with every nut and bolt they could imagine. Each was segregated by size and length, with nuts and bolts together in one container.

  Jo's eyes sparkled. "We'll need big ones to hold the large sails together along with the carriage," she said starting to look through the boxes. Mike joined her on the other side of the closet, opening each container and examining the articles inside.

  Rokka stood back to let them look, then glanced back at the large array of things on the loft floor. He walked over slowly, studying them in his mind. When he reached the center of the pile, he picked up the ends of the wings and studied them
for a minute. He also studied the carriage and some of the other parts.

  Rokka got a determined look on his face. He called out to Mike and Jo, asking them to join him. Reluctantly they left the closet and walked to the middle of the room.

  Rokka gave them a wink and asked, "Wouldn't this job go better if we had a plan to complete it?"

  Mike looked at Jo. And we were supposed to be the technological wizards, he thought. Jo seemed to think the same thing. Mike then walked over to the table and picked up a pencil and paper. He quickly drew what he had in mind on the sheet, outlining how the carriage would support the wings, an engine and the tail surfaces of an ultra-light aircraft. Talking as he drew, he explained the weights, stresses and support that would have to be built into the craft and where they should all go. Then he explained how it was much like a sailing boat, with all the surfaces, except that this craft would sail through the sir. After thirty minutes of drawing and explaining, Mike set the paper down on the table.

  Rokka nodded. This young man's grasp of engineering was very impressive. His own rusty recollections of engineering principals, as he knew them, bore all the theories out. He scratched his chin and looked back at the pile of materials on the floor. Then he shook his head and looked back at them.

  "Bolts will do you no good," he said. "You need to weld the parts together."

  Mike gazed at Rokka with a disappointed look. "I guess this means we stop here," he said.

  Rokka gave him a smile. He walked toward another closet. "There is not enough power from the shore to weld," he said, "and Brana's people would know from the power usage that we were doing something." Rokka opened the door and stepped inside. "I guess," he said inside, “that we will have to use our generator." Rokka stepped from the closet pulling a wheeled arc welding generator with a face mask and several packs of rods in a basket hung on the side.

  Jo rushed over to Rokka and threw her arms around him. The joy seemed to flow through the room. Mike couldn't believe it. More to the point, Rokka walked down the stairs and into the lower part of the barn. Jo rushed over to Mike and hugged him hard. She could not believe that their escape could have been so near.

  Within minutes a rumble was heard as a gasoline engine started and adjusted itself to a set speed. Rokka reappeared a few minutes later and threw a few switches in a fuse box on the wall.

  "Now we have plenty of power," Rokka said. Within minutes the first piece of light metal, similar to aluminum, was welded in place on the carriage.

  The rest of the day was a flurry of activity. The metals used were the same light materials Rokka used on his masts. It was very much like aluminum, light but strong. The rods Rokka used were also very small, but the electric arc fused the pieces of metal in Rokka's hands expertly and completely. He made doubly sure that each joint was solid so that his friends would be safe.

  The frame of the carriage was welded and took shape quickly. Next came the wings, which were attached along the upper portion of the carriage frame so that each wing exactly mirrored the other. Attachment points were also welded in place for struts to help distribute the weight. At the end of each wing, Mike fashioned ailerons to control the roll of the craft and ran the cables through a set of pulleys in the wing onto the small stick to control them.

  Shala came in shortly after they began in earnest and thought it would be great fun to help Mike and Jo on their day off. Maybe it would be something fun to ride, she thought. Shala began pulling out the lengths of cloth to form the coverings of the wings. Jo showed her what they needed and she pulled out the scissors and measuring tape to get started. Soon the sound of the old sewing machine was filling the room.

  They all worked till lunch and Jo and Shala went back to the house to prepare food to bring back to the men. Mike and Rokka were busy welding four of the pipes together from the rear corners of the carriage assembly back about three meters. The ends of the pipes were fused together, and then supports were welded periodically along the entire length. Mike selected three matching control surfaces from Rokka's collection and formed a movable set of horizontal and vertical stabilizers. The tricky part was making sure that the surfaces moved freely and didn't bind up. For this, Rokka sacrificed three bicycles that he had purchased for his family years before. The bearings and housings for the pedals of the bicycle exactly matched their needs. Rokka filled the interior of the housing with grease to ensure smooth operation.

  After a quick lunch, when Shala was informed more about what she would be working on, the work continued. The control wires were all run through the tail section, through the supporting pulleys and attached to the stick and rudder pedals (also from the bicycle). They were then tested thoroughly. Rokka watched the operation of the surfaces and wondered aloud how they might also work, in a heavier form, in water. Mike was very careful not to give out any more information. Rokka was very smart and Mike could tell he was already thinking of control surfaces for a submarine type craft. He let that one stay Rokka's idea alone.

  By midafternoon, the first wing surface was pulled over the aircraft frame. As expected, Shala had been very careful in her measurements. The cloth fit like a glove. There were even spaces reinforced in the fabric where the struts would go through and where it would mesh with the fabric of the other wing. Once the fabric was in place, Mike and Rokka attached the struts with special sail bolts Rokka had available. An hour later, the second wing was covered and the strut attached.

  As Jo and Shala worked on the tail sections, Mike and Rokka welded a frame and brace for an engine to be mounted on the front of the craft. Rokka had listened to Mike's explanation of what was expected. He went down to the rear corner of the barn and came back carrying a large covered object. He placed it heavily on the front of the table and took off the canvas cover. It was a two-cylinder air cooled engine that Rokka had developed to use to power small boats. He called it one of his one-cycle engines that took in the air and fuel and then compressed and ignited it for the power. Then the exhaust was expelled and new air and fuel brought in for another power stroke. Rokka was very proud of this particular engine. It had been run for over 300 hours at a time and showed no appreciable wear. There was a recoiling starting rope on one end opposite the end where the propeller would be fitted. Rokka fitted an additional mounting plate to the engine so that it could be bolted to the engine mount.

  Mike had selected a small gasoline tank to be fitted behind and above the engine. It fit in between the two wings in a gap between the struts. Rokka then welded it in place as well. Mike found a rubber hose to run from the tank to the carburetor of the engine. The filling nozzle of the tank would be exposed above the wing.

  By this time Shala and Jo had finished palming needles and thread through the fabric and around the supporting frames. The fabric covered the wings, tail surfaces and a piece running under and behind the engine and in an inverted "V" shape from the widest section of the engine supports and carriage frame to the wing roots. This cut some of the forward vision, but also protected the occupants from some of the wind.

  The engine itself was fully exposed. Its two cylinders gleamed and Rokka attached the four-bladed propeller to the front with eight bolts. The control for the throttle and an on/off switch were run back and attached to a place next to the wicker chair in front.

  By this time it was already getting dark. Shala went to start supper and Rokka pulled out what looked like a can of paint and some brushes.

  "This is a special thing I invented to make the cloth very tight and almost like metal. The wind will not go through it," Rokka said handing the brushes to Mike and Jo. Then he opened the large doors at one end of the room.

  "I go to help Mama with supper," he said. 'I will call when ready." Then Rokka smiled and went down the stairs.

  Mike looked at Jo.

  "Shall we?" he asked.

  "Just a few slaps of this paint and she will be finished," Jo said opening the can. The smell coming out of the can almost made her pass out. "Whew! This is strong stuf
f!"

  "I guess that's why Rokka opened the doors," he said. "I'll turn the fans on again."

  In a moment, the fumes were drawn by the fans up and out of the building. The cool air from the lake was refreshing after so long a day.

  Mike and Jo began painting the mixture on the cloth. It was silver in color and Mike figured it may have some metal shavings in it. As soon as it started to dry, the cloth was somehow changed. It tightened considerably and became almost as tight as a drum head. Following Rokka's instructions, they applied thick coats along all the exposed surfaces of the wings, tail and nose of the aircraft. By the time Rokka called them, the job was complete.

  After supper all four returned to the barn to look at their handiwork. The silver craft looked sleek and sturdy in the overhead lights. Already the fabric was dry, forming an almost plastic-like covering over the surfaces. In the fuselage of the plane were two wicker seats, the front one equipped with the controls to fly the plane.

  "It's beautiful," Jo said holding onto Mike's arm.

  "So you say this machine will take a man into the air?" Rokka asked skeptically.

  "You remember I talked of a man named Lindbergh that I said flew across the ocean?"

  "Yes."

  "It was in a machine much like this," Mike said with pride.

  "That, I would like to see," Shala said slapping her side.

  Rokka laughed at his wife and gave her a hug. "But not tonight. Tomorrow is a holy day. We must get a little sleep," Rokka said looking at Mike and Jo.

  Shala nodded. "Yes Papa. Are you coming?" she asked to the others.

  "In a while," Mike said, looking at Jo. She was clinging to his arm and looking at what they had done together.

  Rokka and Shala nodded and walked down the stairs and back to the house.

  Jo stepped away from Mike and ran her hand across the leading edge of the wing. "This was your dream wasn't it?"

 

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