watched in fascination as the ship-shaped cage of branches was revealed, a tangled network of growth from the old oak that had been laid by Argos, filling the hull like veins. The growth had split the planking, but held it together too, in a protecting embrace.
Lemanku was stunned by what his work was uncovering. He showed me how the wood was not just of oak, but of several types of tree: elm and birch and beech, though these elements were confined towards the prow.
Jason’s instructions were clear:
‘Cut her back to within a man’s length of the block of wood that rises into the prow.’
He was pruning the Argo!
‘Lay the new keel, then build out from there; enclose the prow area at the end.’
Lemanku said, ‘This ship was constructed in a way I’ve never seen. Very primitive.’
Jason asked him what he meant, and Lemanku showed how each plank had been placed edge to edge along the hull, crudely lashed with rope, then sealed with black tar, or something similar.
‘I’m surprised this ship didn’t break up in the first storm.’
‘But she didn’t break up in the first storm. Nor any other storm. I sailed her along forty rivers, through water that was foaming white, sometimes so close to freezing solid that blocks of ice struck her left and right. I sailed Argo in the shadow of moving mountains, at the edge of thrashing forests, and she never failed me. How can you can build her stronger?’
‘I didn’t say I could build her stronger,’ Lemanku said evenly. ‘Just better. I can build her to carry more, and sail faster.’
Without pause, without thanks, Jason said, ‘I like the sound of that. How many men do you need?’
‘Experienced ship builders: ten. Iron workers: twenty. Charcoal burners: five…’ The list went on. ‘I can raise most of them.’
‘I’ll get the rest for you,’ Jason said, glancing at me. ‘You and I together, Antiokus? A little recruiting?’
‘We’d better get started. As dawn grows brighter by the day, this lake will be left alone for half a year. Everybody leaves.’
* * *
Lemanku demonstrated how the planks could be overlapped then nailed together with iron to create a stronger, more flexible hull. This was Jason’s first encounter with the hard metal. He watched the process of forging and tempering with fascination. The nails were made long, thick and crude, ready to be battened off, flattened out on the inner side of the hull.
Even so, he wanted rope lashing. Lemanku was puzzled, but Jason was insistent.
‘I was taught that to be secure at sea the rope that holds a ship together should weigh more than the men who sail her.’
‘Then you’ll need more ballast,’ Lemanku countered. ‘The rope will soak up water and make the ship top-heavy.’
‘Are your ropes made of sponges, then? I’ll have to trust you. The ballast will be in skin bags. We can throw it out and recruit it whenever we pass a rocky beach! But we need the ropes. They’ll hold Argo together not just in a storm, but when we overland her. To haul a ship like this uphill, through forest, you have to hold her in a cradle. A cradle of rope. Haul her from the front and you’ll strip the keel!’
‘I know that,’ Lemanku retorted proudly. ‘I’ve built boats all my life. I’ve hauled them over ice and over rock. I know how to brace the keel, and broaden it, and grease the log rollers with fish gut, fat and liver. It’s been my business all my life. You intend to haul the ship? Where?’
‘I don’t know where. But every river has its shallows, and every sea gets blocked by land. It’s a precaution. Fish guts on the rollers?’
‘Eases the passage.’
‘I believe you. Between us we’ll build a wonderful vessel. Just give me my ropes!’
Lemanku laughed out loud. The two men set out their plan for building new flesh on Argo’s bones, then Jason left the shipwright to his work.
* * *
While Lemanku continued to prune the wreck, Jason, Jouhkan and myself
Lemanku was stunned by what his work was uncovering. He showed me how the wood was not just of oak, but of several types of tree: elm and birch and beech, though these elements were confined towards the prow.
Jason’s instructions were clear:
‘Cut her back to within a man’s length of the block of wood that rises into the prow.’
He was pruning the Argo!
‘Lay the new keel, then build out from there; enclose the prow area at the end.’
Lemanku said, ‘This ship was constructed in a way I’ve never seen. Very primitive.’
Jason asked him what he meant, and Lemanku showed how each plank had been placed edge to edge along the hull, crudely lashed with rope, then sealed with black tar, or something similar.
‘I’m surprised this ship didn’t break up in the first storm.’
‘But she didn’t break up in the first storm. Nor any other storm. I sailed her along forty rivers, through water that was foaming white, sometimes so close to freezing solid that blocks of ice struck her left and right. I sailed Argo in the shadow of moving mountains, at the edge of thrashing forests, and she never failed me. How can you can build her stronger?’
‘I didn’t say I could build her stronger,’ Lemanku said evenly. ‘Just better. I can build her to carry more, and sail faster.’
Without pause, without thanks, Jason said, ‘I like the sound of that. How many men do you need?’
‘Experienced ship builders: ten. Iron workers: twenty. Charcoal burners: five…’ The list went on. ‘I can raise most of them.’
‘I’ll get the rest for you,’ Jason said, glancing at me. ‘You and I together, Antiokus? A little recruiting?’
‘We’d better get started. As dawn grows brighter by the day, this lake will be left alone for half a year. Everybody leaves.’
* * *
Lemanku demonstrated how the planks could be overlapped then nailed together with iron to create a stronger, more flexible hull. This was Jason’s first encounter with the hard metal. He watched the process of forging and tempering with fascination. The nails were made long, thick and crude, ready to be battened off, flattened out on the inner side of the hull.
Even so, he wanted rope lashing. Lemanku was puzzled, but Jason was insistent.
‘I was taught that to be secure at sea the rope that holds a ship together should weigh more than the men who sail her.’
‘Then you’ll need more ballast,’ Lemanku countered. ‘The rope will soak up water and make the ship top-heavy.’
‘Are your ropes made of sponges, then? I’ll have to trust you. The ballast will be in skin bags. We can throw it out and recruit it whenever we pass a rocky beach! But we need the ropes. They’ll hold Argo together not just in a storm, but when we overland her. To haul a ship like this uphill, through forest, you have to hold her in a cradle. A cradle of rope. Haul her from the front and you’ll strip the keel!’
‘I know that,’ Lemanku retorted proudly. ‘I’ve built boats all my life. I’ve hauled them over ice and over rock. I know how to brace the keel, and broaden it, and grease the log rollers with fish gut, fat and liver. It’s been my business all my life. You intend to haul the ship? Where?’
‘I don’t know where. But every river has its shallows, and every sea gets blocked by land. It’s a precaution. Fish guts on the rollers?’
‘Eases the passage.’
‘I believe you. Between us we’ll build a wonderful vessel. Just give me my ropes!’
Lemanku laughed out loud. The two men set out their plan for building new flesh on Argo’s bones, then Jason left the shipwright to his work.
* * *
While Lemanku continued to prune the wreck, Jason, Jouhkan and myself
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