SNARES AND DELUSIONS IN SHIP MODELING
 Sid Siegel

As a long devoted ship modeler, I have come across many snares and delusions which have entangled myself and my compatriots. Here they are, the product of long and sad experience, mingled with my own prejudices and half-baked opinions.

1. It is always better to build as the original shipwrights did. Nonsense. A ship model is something different than a teeny weeny ship. Following full size practice can sometimes be useful, but often it is a trap, creating impossible difficulties that don’t contribute to the value of the model. Of course, building a resin and styrene model of a modern warship doesn’t usually offer the same temptations to follow full size practice. But that doesn’t mean the modeler won’t dive into oceans of invisible detail.

2. Show all the work to amaze people and confound your fellow ship modelers. I don’t agree. Leaving openings and unplanked areas can be more confusing than interesting, and the average person can’t appreciate what’s on the surface, let alone all the stuff that’s below decks. I guess I'm not that fond of Admiralty style models.

3. People want to see every timber and knee in a model. A variant of the above two delusions. I don’t think so. The only people who can appreciate that sort of work are those who understand it, which ain’t everybody.

4. A kit has everything you need to build a credible model. I have actually heard of such kits, but never seen them. Most finished kit models that I have seen are substantially modified and some have a lot of supplementary research and extensive changes to materials and methods. Kit problems usually start with a lack of solid research by the manufacturer, but even where the research is good, the manufacturer will cut corners, either to make it easier on the modeler, or more likely, to make it easier on the manufacturer. They know that most kits are purchased for the beauty of the box art, and will never become finished models.

5. Haptic elements, that is, irregularities in finish and joinery due to hand workmanship, are horrible. I don’t think so. People think perfect things are made by robots in big shiny industrial factories, along with ten million other models that are exactly the same. When you look for fine antique porcelain, you look for those haptic elements such as a vase that is out of round. The perfect stuff is usually small change.

6. Ship modeling is not an art, but an existential quest to achieve a perfect miniature replication of a ship. Baloney. Who can appreciate such perfection, especially if a modeler spends a lifetime building one perfect model? Nobody on earth, and therefore the modeler must get a reward in heaven.

7. If you can’t make it perfect, and see the whole process executed perfectly in your
head, then don’t even start. Fatal quicksand for the ship modeler. A ship model starts with one tiny step, like measuring out the keel. Everything else is little steps, too.

8. Ship models are made to be given to your Uncle Roscoe, not to be sold like some crassly commercial piece of furniture or jewelry. Get thee behind me, Mammon. Tempt me not, I work only for love. Right, and so do the people at McDonald’s.

9. Fundamentally, ship modeling is a wonderful waste of time. The model itself is irrelevant except as proof that you spent a lot of time doing it, and therefore you must be better off than the poor sods who have to work for a living or do chores around the house. If I believed that, I wouldn’t be writing this essay.