by Dean Beeman
KingTut’s Votive
Historical Notes and Illustrated Guide for a Scale Model
Dean A. Beeman
Copyright 2014-2017 Dean A. Beeman
All Rights Reserved
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise without the signed permission from the author. Excerpts made be used for review and promotional purposes.
Limit of Liability/ Disclaimer of Warranty. As the author points out in the text, the instructions in this book involve the use of sharp and otherwise dangerous tools and other items. The author makes no representation that injury will not occur. The author does not guarantee that the results obtained will be acceptable to any person undertaking this or any related project. The instructions and images may not be suitable for any given situation. The author shall not be liable for any errors or omissions, loss of any amount of money including lost profit or any other personal or commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential, personal injury or any other damages.
Table of Contents
The Votive Ship Model
Tools and Materials
The Mold
The Keel (Plank)
The Strakes
Lashing the Hull (Ceiling)
Bow and Stern Pulpits
Inner Ceiling (Sides)
Pulpit Capitals
The Throne
Finishing The Model
Alternative Throne
The Votive Ship Model
The votive ship model, like all ex-voto offerings, is not a curiosity. Unlike other types of ship models, the intent of the builder was to give thanks to God, or god(s) of the seas.
The earliest spiritual association of boats and ships to passages from this life is probably best depicted in the actual boat buried with Khufu (King Cheops). Faced with the task of following the sun on its eternal journey westward, Egyptians provided the pharaohs, including Khufu, with a number of alternative watercraft ranging from full-sized boats to exquisite models.
Sailors are probably less superstitious today, but the notion of a gift, or ex-voto, for safe passage was and still is accepted practice.
Probably the best documented ship-model votive is also the oldest- the Mataro, thought by many to be a gift to the Virgin Mary. This model, built in the 1400's, has been studied, documented and recreated many times. It should not be surprising that most early wooden models were lost to the same fires that destroyed many European churches during various periods of religious and political instability. Or, like scraps of clothing and other personal items that were offered, were discarded in favor of more impressive offerings that survived.
The Mataro is a large model. To gain an appreciation for it without visiting Rotterdam, follow this link: http://www.maritiemmuseum.nl/pix/tentoon/mataro/online/eng_mataronline.pdf .
By modern architectural standards the Mataro is not all that elegant, and suffers from the same lack of documented scale as most workaday historical ships. Given her apparent size (65 tons or so displacement), her simple rigging, and huge rudder, she was very practical: that is to say easy to sail (probably within sight of land at all times). I’m guessing that my original catboat could have left her standing in its wake (what there was of it), but in a busy port she obviously got the job done. This probably explains her veneration.
As you might suspect from the examples we have built, my preference is for models that represent grains of historical wheat that got ground up by the wheels of history: everyday stuff, as depicted by artists like Henry. In this case, votive offerings would have been at the lower scale of precision, but at the high end of significance. If they had survived.
I also prefer smaller models that can be unobtrusively displayed as a vehicle for discussing what they represent. The model itself can do the talking, but a host who understands why he built a model in the first place is probably an interested and interesting character.
In this series we have danced around the 19th century as a reasonable introduction to wooden ships, mainly because ships of the period enjoy at least some documentation.
In terms of the votive model, there are a number that still hang in Nordic churches, but very few in North America. The only votive ship model that I have visited hangs in the nave of the Naval Academy Chapel. That votive was an alumni gift in 1941 from the Construction Corps (better known as the Seabees). The ship itself is a carrack, which, from a design standpoint is very similar to the Mataro.
There may be others, but even if they are displayed in museums the true nature of the model has probably been lost or ignored.
So between 1300 BC and today there are a limited number of ways to express the idea that a model of a ship or boat could have some extraordinary meaning other than itself.
Either the Mataro, the carrack or a similar ship would be consistent with our earlier models. That pretty much explains why I’m ready to sail off in a new direction.
I’m going to stretch this whole notion of a votive a bit, and distinguish it from the ex-voto, (or offering of thanks after the fact). This will allow a much broader journey into beliefs associated with boats. (For those who might prefer an exploration into Buddhist, Shinto or other philosophy, there is an abundance of elegant thought and art, but no boats. Unless you want to get into Kubla Khan, and we all know how well he fared in sailing to Japan.)
To quote Wikipedia:
“A votive deposit or votive offering is one or more objects displayed or deposited, without the intention of recovery or use, in a sacred place for broadly religious purposes. Such items are a feature of modern and ancient societies and are generally made in order to gain favor with supernatural forces.”
Whether you totally accept the contributor source or not, I have the basis for a wide range of votives.
I’ve accepted the notion that the boats provided to early Egyptian pharaohs and nobles satisfy the definition, and as a bonus, are an interesting boat to build. The most famous ranged in size from actual (Khufu) to the small but exquisitely crafted models associated with the tomb of Tutankhamen (King Tut). Whether full or model-sized, these boats present both unique and timeless technologies, and they’re pretty, too.
This model will be based on one of the 30 or so models provided to King Tut, and was intended to serve as a vehicle for his journey with the sun. As it was presented in his tomb, his model throne was not occupied, and the twin rudders were not manned, so the boat was ready for launch. Unlike the alabaster and gold models it can be constructed out of wood, and shares a harmonious sweep with the whaleboat. It won’t be easy to build, but in terms of size and lines it will fit in nicely with the rest of the fleet.
The original model is 155cm long, or 61 inches. Given an approximate actual length of 33 feet, this works out to a scale of 1:6, and if we covert to the whaleboat scale, gives us about a 12” model at the same (1:32) scale (anathema to the train guys but perfect for a scratch builder). For me that’s at the high end of obtrusive and this model will match the whaleboat and steamboat when they’re in the same room. (I’m still struggling with the canal boat. So far I’ve taken it completely apart in the belief that it can be made to look more like an attractive boat.)
By now you’re familiar with the tools and other stuff that I use, so no changes there. The materials also stay the same- I will be using leftovers and scrap from the earlier models to build this one. If you need supplies, buy or make as we go. I’ll also be using the same steaming and bending process, forms and paints shared with the other models, so any new investment should be close to zero. Except, of course, labor hours, and they’re up to you.
To start,
take a look at some images of this boat:
http://www.lessing-photo.com/p3/080102/08010261.jpg
http://www.thenileandegypt.com/images/rehoraktebarque.gif
http://www.bing.com/images/search?q=ra+sun+boat&view=detail&id=91D1B242D304810CF8CB0C39DAE84CBAEEBF625C
There are quite a few other Egyptian model candidates that share the same heritage, so if you want to venture off into constructing one of the others, the methods we are using will be the same.
Before we get too far into our perpendiculars, this might be a good time to bring up Phi. Variously known as the Golden Mean, the Golden Sphere, etc., Phi refers to a constant ratio (1.618) that is found in nature, architecture and many works of art. This ratio was well known to the Egyptians, and explains in part the beauty of their pyramids and other art. A pretty good synopsis can be found here: http://jwilson.coe.uga.edu/EMT668/EMAT6680.2000/Obara/Emat6690/Golden%20Ratio/golden.html
Or just pick up a French curve if you have one handy. Better yet, bend a long thin strip of basswood- Phi will exist between your fingertips.
The boats associated with the pharaohs share a similar papyriform head at the bow and stern. These pulpits (my term) on the boat flow into the sweep of the hull in a series of curves that follow the shapes of even earlier Nile boats. These prehistoric boats were constructed from native papyrus, (which has since disappeared), and the papyriform theme carries throughout depictions of the gods who were important to civilization on the Nile.
All of this art follows a set of timeless rules that flow from what the human eye (ancient and modern) determines to be a pleasant versus a rude or clumsy shape. To the many and vocal critics of models that are not constructed to a precise numeric scale, a compelling case can be made that art and engineering don’t meet that often, but when they do, Phi is one rule that is present in the dimensions.
We’ll get to the sun boat of Cheops as we get more deeply into construction details, but the various geometric elements of that boat will find their way into this one. The drawings, sketches and the final model will be consistent with the rules, so we’re on some pretty solid historical and technical footing. Granted that footing spans 12 centuries or so, but the Egyptians had been building their boats for many centuries before the wooden boat appeared, and throughout this time frame the form, function and construction methods remained fairly constant. The same can be said for all other boats and ships.
As we drill down into the technical details of the model, be prepared for the fact that the literature is replete with speculation and virtually devoid of reliable metrics.
While we’re dealing with terms and concepts. I’m going to use the word “pulpit” to describe the vertical papyriform structures that rise from the bow and stern of all boats where Ra, the sun god, is present. There is no convenient term in a nautical or archeological dictionary that comes close to naming these, and “pulpit” is easier than “vertical papyriform structure”. Since the world seems to have run out of acronyms, and “VPS” can abbreviate just about anything, bear with me when I use a convenient but technically incorrect term. Since this is used in a nautical context it probably makes as much literal sense as dozens of other nautical terms.
Let’s also deal with the cubit- the Egyptian measurement scale. In the literature this can range from the royal cubit to the biblical cubit and all over the place in the course of the last few thousand years. Like it or not, the baseline cubit for this book is 18 inches, for the simple reason that when I measure the distance on my arm from the elbow to the tip of my middle finger the number is 18. If you encounter any other cubit, be prepared for the task of determining the time frame and anthropology- you could be in for an argument that has no logical or documented outcome.
Egyptologists are no less odd than model builders, but at the other extreme of precision. To give them their due, they are dealing with a time frame of about 2400 years that spanned the Bronze Age, so details like the dimensions and shape of cedar strakes are almost irrelevant to their discipline. For the model builder, dimensions like that are our lifeblood. In short, it sucks for us.
In terms of building skills, the Egyptians were jewelers on a giant scale. And they applied these practices and skills to boats. One translated notebook describes building a 60x30 cubit boat (roughly 100’x50’) for the transport of limestone blocks. The craft took 17 days to complete, and when it was done, could float at least one 16-ton block. The boat was built of acacia wood, which is not particularly buoyant, so it must have had some characteristics of a modern shallow-draft barge. Let’s give it a draft of 2 feet, so we can join in the speculative frenzy and rate it as a 312 ton vessel. Lower the draft to a foot and this monster still displaced 155 tons. In 17 days 3000 years ago.
And these boat were portable. As we’ll see, their method of construction allowed the Egyptians to disassemble a boat, transport it upstream and reassemble it fairly quickly. Another scenario would be that they transported disassembled barges to Byblos (by sea) or by way of Qoseir (by desert). Upon reaching their destination they could easily have reassembled the barges and then sailed them, plus the barge-carrier, back home.
A transport scenario for the cedar and other logs is that they were tied and towed in a line behind a boat powered by rowers and/or sail. The prevalent winds on the southern Mediterranean shoreline would have been northerly, so a fore-aft rig would have worked well at sea while a square rig would have been the rig of choice sailing up the Nile or down the Red Sea. Since neither Cheops’ or Tut’s boat carried an easel-type mast, we can further speculate that their journey was intended to be totally downstream (a pretty safe bet if the boat was launched north of Hierakonpolis).
While their absolute measurements of a given object might have varied, their precise replication of hundreds and even thousands of objects argues for the widespread use of templates, from their pyramids to sculpture, and undoubtedly, boats. Particularly boats, since any lack of hull symmetry will seriously degrade a boat’s seaworthiness.
This argues persuasively for the widespread use of molds, down to the forming of papyrus stalks into fishing boats. The Egyptian boat builders also employed a set of hieroglyphics to designate a boats quarters (fore, aft, port and starboard). Forward starboard, for example, would have been a symbol that looked like a plus (“+”) sign. Once a boat’s pieces and parts were marked, this would have simplified assembling a transported craft at its destination.
Cheops’ boat was discovered in a state of complete disassembly. The reassembly of such a large craft would have probably been a few days work for the ancient Egyptians, but it took modern restorers about ten years. Of course nobody called in a boat-builder.
The Egyptians also made wide use of matrix-grids for two and three-dimensional drawings. So if you combine this with the use of templates and molds, just add a computer and build today’s boat.
A final note on enabling materials and technologies. The Egyptians made use of the lathe and its small cousin the bow drill. With supplies of copper from the eastern desert and the Sinai, and tin from what is today Syria, the Egyptians could produce annealed and serrated tools, thus the adze and saw depicted in many of their murals. With an unlimited supply of various sands they could and did fabricate many sanding and polishing tools, and no doubt imbedded sand in the cutting face of other tools. Flecked flint knives, chisels and burnishers rounded out their woodworking arsenal. From well before Cheops’ dynasty they were milling cedar and acacia into planks, and with an unlimited supply of acacia thorns and cedar pitch could fashion and glue any wood. Threads of the papyrus and other reeds were woven and braided, producing thread and rope of almost limitless size. These ropes and threads were further twisted using wooden levers- the ancient equivalent of a turnbuckle. On a large scale, a turnbuckle can move a huge object fairly easily and quickly, and act as a ship‘s truss.
Given all that, our only technical advantage is the camera for recording the likely steps in building a boat, and even that is not a significant
improvement over their murals.
There are very few published books that are useful to this particular project, but if your local library can find a copy of “The Boat Beneath the Pyramid”, Text by Nancy Jenkins Photographs by John Ross, Holt, Rinehart and Winston, New York, 1980, you can get a sense for the construction details and significance of Cheops’ boat at Giza.
Tools and Materials
Every model-building text starts with a tool description. I built my first scratch model using a machinist’s rule, a razor blade and scraps of sandpaper. That model took awhile, and I’ve only added tools that fit what I needed. My advice is to read the text, figure out what tools might be handy, and buy them only if you feel you need them. What comes next is the result of many, many models, including the ones in this series.
While I started this series of books with a description of a set of tools for each model, the sets began to look very similar, so here are most of the things I use every day. (In order left to right, top to bottom.)
Scrap Bins- one for short and one for long scraps. Indispensable.
Cord Box. In this assortment, I have rigging cords that start at .008 all the way up through sewing thread, button thread and 48-pound hemp.