I wish I could delve right into the model-related waffle and faff on and on about the design and build process, but unfortunately, this particular build is one marked by tragedy.
On Friday, October 2, 2015, at around 0700 local time, the cargo vessel El Faro sent a distress signal. Today, at sundown, the search was ended. My service, the United States Merchant Marine, and the seafaring trade in general, has been dealt yet another tragedy. It has been a week of mourning for us here at the academy, and this was the last thing any of us have wanted to hear. As you may know, I joined this academy over a year ago, and since then I have learned how tightly-knit the seafaring community is. Names travel quickly, as do stories. These past few days I learned just how quickly grief spreads round the scuttlebutt as well. Every day our training reminds us of how small and fragile we are compared to Neptune's might and the whims of the Midgard Serpent. That at any minute, King Neptune can choose to recall these machine-gods of the sea back to Davy Jones, and the crew with them. But, to finally experience firsthand the grief and agony over this loss goes beyond any emotion that any STCW class can convey. The femoral artery, when severed, can bleed out a man within three minutes. In frigid waters you can expire in just a few more. When your brothers and sisters perish, a part of your own soul dies with them. And that, in my view, is just a bit more agonizing.
It's a strange yet fitting coincidence then that my latest model should once again be maritime-related. What's more, it comes from a series of tales which were among the first to inspire me to look to the sea. And so, I present to you my version of Horatio Hornblower's Hotspur.
Being a fan of the moving picture, I based the model largely on the setpiece seen in the Hornblower miniseries, with structural detail drawn from actual sixth-rate vessels of the napoleonic era.
On Friday, October 2, 2015, at around 0700 local time, the cargo vessel El Faro sent a distress signal. Today, at sundown, the search was ended. My service, the United States Merchant Marine, and the seafaring trade in general, has been dealt yet another tragedy. It has been a week of mourning for us here at the academy, and this was the last thing any of us have wanted to hear. As you may know, I joined this academy over a year ago, and since then I have learned how tightly-knit the seafaring community is. Names travel quickly, as do stories. These past few days I learned just how quickly grief spreads round the scuttlebutt as well. Every day our training reminds us of how small and fragile we are compared to Neptune's might and the whims of the Midgard Serpent. That at any minute, King Neptune can choose to recall these machine-gods of the sea back to Davy Jones, and the crew with them. But, to finally experience firsthand the grief and agony over this loss goes beyond any emotion that any STCW class can convey. The femoral artery, when severed, can bleed out a man within three minutes. In frigid waters you can expire in just a few more. When your brothers and sisters perish, a part of your own soul dies with them. And that, in my view, is just a bit more agonizing.
It's a strange yet fitting coincidence then that my latest model should once again be maritime-related. What's more, it comes from a series of tales which were among the first to inspire me to look to the sea. And so, I present to you my version of Horatio Hornblower's Hotspur.
Being a fan of the moving picture, I based the model largely on the setpiece seen in the Hornblower miniseries, with structural detail drawn from actual sixth-rate vessels of the napoleonic era.
