Show Boat

One of the unexpected pleasures of Dave Stone's ‘Season of Scenery’ has been rediscovering all those curious little projects that have been quietly gathering dust whilst patiently waiting for their turn upon the painting table. Some are sensible, some are practical, but this, I'm afraid, is neither.  Indeed, for my next contribution I present what can only be described as a complete show boat in every sense of the phrase.

One of the scenarios in The Silver Bayonet, Troll Bridge, requires a boat to be stranded across the river complete with a swivel gun that suitably qualified members of your patrol may attempt to operate. Quite why someone thought mounting artillery aboard a half wrecked boat was an excellent military decision is perhaps a question best left to the author, but this being The Silver Bayonet, where absurdity and Gothic horror have always enjoyed being rather comfortable bedfellows, naturally, I found myself wondering just how theatrical such a piece of scenery could become?

My starting point was a 'Sarissa Precision' excellent MDF Boat Wreck. I had originally purchased the kit whilst entertaining vague ambitions of one day staging a Dracula Comes to Hastings scenario, but alas the project never progressed beyond idle daydreaming.  Happily, the abandoned boat proved to be exactly what this build required.  The kit itself is rather lovely; a weather beaten and decaying fishing boat with exposed ribs, shattered planking and its own scenic base.  It already possessed that wonderfully Gothic atmosphere which The Silver Bayonet seems to thrive upon, the only slight complication was the small matter of mounting the swivel gun.

As the boat lists dramatically to one side, simply placing a cannon inside looked rather precarious. Instead, somewhere during an evening's quiet contemplation or perhaps mild delirium given the stifling heat, the notion occurred to construct a crude firing platform from rough timber planking spanning the damaged hull.  It is, by any objective military standard, utterly preposterous, which naturally meant I had to build it.  The gun itself came from ‘Actual Size Miniatures’, a delightful little resin print that deserved something rather more substantial than simply being glued to the floorboards.  A framework of scored plastic strip became a rough wooden carriage before strips of balsa completed the makeshift deck.  Once that central idea had taken hold, the rest almost seemed to build itself.

Resin barrels were cut it half and sunk into the muddy riverbank. Loose cannonballs and broken planks suggested a hasty abandonment, whilst yet more skulls and debris quietly hinted that the previous crew had met with an end that was less than entirely voluntary.  One of my favourite little additions was the creeping vegetation.  Returning to a favourite technique, I used hairy wool teased apart strand by strand to produce climbing vines before adding clump foliage to create patches of moss clinging to the damp timber. It's a surprisingly simple technique but one that works remarkably well once painted.

There was even an opportunity to revisit my old friend, UV resin.  This time, perhaps mindful of previous adventures, I approached the process with rather more caution, using it sparingly to create puddles, damp patches and little pools trapped amongst the wreckage. A quick flash from the UV torch and suddenly the whole scene acquired that permanently wet appearance that one imagines accompanies anything left beside a gloomy river for too long.

As a finished piece it is gloriously impractical and I suspect it will spend far more time being admired than actually influencing the outcome of a game, but I rather like that and look forward to seeing it on the table.