For forty years the rainbow shall not be seen for forty years it shall be seen every day the parched earth grows more dry and a great flood when it shall appear.
Nostradamus I,17 (1503-1566)
The earthquake shall come in the month of May Saturn in Capricorn, Jupiter and Mercury in Taurus, Venus in Cancer, Mars in Virgo then hail shall fall bigger than an egg.
Nostradamus X, 67
Fire from the sky to the earth, the color of gold shall be seen. Struck of the high born one, a marvellous event great massacre of humanity, a nephew seized from the great one the proud one escapes as the dead look on.
Nostradamus II, 92
The sacred pomp shall bow down her wings at the coming of the lawgiver he shall raise up the humble and vex the rebellious no rival shall be born on earth.
Nostradamus V, 79
CHAPTER 9
When I first imagined the ark's launch by a massive wave, I thought the violent lurch would move the boat so quickly all of the people and animals would be flung into a bulkhead and smashed like pumpkins littering sidewalks the day after Halloween. I thought I'd need to build cages to hold the animals in a safe position and provide honeycomb-type cells to protect the crew. After learning of the Ulrichs' experience, I realized crashing through a tsunami is not a feasible plan.
"Neither father nor son was swept overboard." One obvious reason is because they rode up the front of the wave and water did not wash over the deck and sweep them away. Yet when the boat was almost vertical, racing up the wave again, neither fell off the boat. When I picture this, I see the boat scooting out from under their feet, but they more or less rode it like a big surfboard.
I had forgotten all about 'G' force--the same force that sucks a pilot into his seat no matter what position the plane is in during a loop-the-loop. This knowledge allayed my fears; a tethered upward flight of the ark will be accompanied by our friend called 'G' force. The contents of the ark will be safe when the tsunamis occur as long as it climbs the waves (that's if gravity remains consistent within the reality of a pole shift). Mere slings will aid the heavier animals so they don't break a leg like seafarers of old' used for horses and cows.
The violent launch I had envisioned included an invisible force called inertia. If the anchoring lines part before the front of the boat climbs over the wave, the massive wave will pitch the boat forward and introduce inertia into the equation; then we can expect all aboard will indeed be pulverized and the boat shattered into smithereens. A quick end to a valiant attempt by the ark's crew to enter the next phase of earth's development.
Before learning of the Ulrichs' experience I also questioned the wisdom of the previous ark's design, specifically the skylight that ran the length of the boat. I thought the skylight might be detrimental to the ark's ability to enter the wall of water. I believe the skylight is essential to circulate air through the four decks, but I believed any diversion from a streamlined design could prove fatal for all aboard.
This justified the extra expense of building a retractable skylight. In my mental blueprints, I had originally designed two systems--a manual and a hydraulically retractable skylight. Now I am less concerned. Thanks to what I learned from the Ulrichs' luckily positioned boat, the skylight can be fixed.
At one point in my life, I worked for an organization that teaches new job skills. I learned to build cedar strip canoes from a man who has spent his life building different kinds of boats. His experience ranges from repairing Tall Ships to building sailboats, yachts and, of course, canoes.
An equivalent to civilization's fascination of watching sports figures, I think watching people at work who excel at their craft can also be fascinating. During my apprenticeship I marvelled at my mentor's abilities. He was a carpentry artist creating wooden shapes that fit with precision.
His own apprenticeship began in the shipyards of Kent on the Thames River in England. He learned from craftsmen whose lessons have been passed down through centuries. They still rap the knuckles of young apprentices who are caught working with dull chisels. This archaic way of disciplining helps to create excellent lifelong working habits.
He studied the art of ship cabinet making. Working with rounded hulls makes his trade the trickiest kind of carpentry by far. He had built his very own sailboat by the age of nineteen and to date he's been working as a boat builder for twenty-eight years.
When I needed preliminary advice regarding the ark's construction, I turned to my friend and teacher. Although he is very much a realist, he humoured me by listening intently to my theory and, when he'd grasped the concept, began to sketch. I reiterated my concern of a violent launch, and he drew a cross-section of a boat he believed could survive.
The keel is four feet high by two feet wide. Off the keel at two-foot intervals are square one-foot ribs. Attaching the ribs and forming the hull is two-and-one-half-inch planking. This mountain of wood is held together with huge nuts and bolts and seven-inch spikes. The bends of the ribs are crafted by abut joining three slightly curved pieces of wood; bolted together the joints will help form the precise curve each rib demands. When the planking is fixed to these ribs, their forward and aft movement will be halted, forming a solid floating island.
Then the interior work can begin. More support beams and the decks add to the ark's strength. The construction site will be quite a sight to behold. The weight of the craft will allow it to sit on blocks without moving. Forty-five-foot high scaffolding will surround the vessel with cranes to do the heavy lifting. A work force of craftspeople will be dwarfed by the size of the ark; from a distance the site will look like a colony of busy ants.
I gathered up all my courage to ask, "How much?" The teacher gave a wry smile and began to do some figuring; when he had reached a final figure, he began by qualifying that it was purely ballpark and left a whole lot of playing room. Without proper blueprints, estimating is simply guessing.
"Five to six million dollars, and maybe as high as ten million," came the response to my question. From where I sat, the number was astronomical so I quickly stood up but found the figure equally astronomical. However I can't afford to get bogged down before I get started. I decided to focus only on writing this book. My deal with the Supreme Entity is that, if I am meant to build the ark, this book is to be the vehicle that brings me the financial resources to do so.
Talking about the serendipitous participation of the Supreme Being in my venture, I should mention that recently in my job as a satellite dish installer I was sent to a place about forty minutes from Ottawa, where I live. Before my first trip to Buckingham, I was thinking trees big enough to build an ark with would have to be trucked in from British Columbia. But I discovered in the beautiful cottage country around Buckingham there are big old pine trees perfect for building the ark and plenty of them. It looks like I could get sixty-foot, square-foot timbers out of these trees.
The land is cheap there because of the uncertainty of Quebec remaining as part of Canada. Whether the government stays or not doesn't affect the little people very much. The biggest changes will be in the status of the politicians. I've lived in Quebec before and loved it--the people are salt of the earth. I checked on the seismic map and structurally the area looks pretty sound. There are sounder areas on the shield, but the availability of building material is very important. Trucking those logs can get very costly. I've got a realtor looking around and I'm waiting excitedly to hear from him.
Out of the conversation with my teacher came the realization that to build a full-scale replica of the ark I'll require a set of blueprints. I needed to talk with a marine architect. In the morning I began my search, thinking it would end with long-distance calls to either the Atlantic or Pacific coast.
I started with government listings, where I found a number for the Royal Architectural Institute of Canada. They did not list architects in categories of their specialty; the only advice they offered was to phone their provincial government equivalent.
The province reiterated the federal lack of such a listing. They recommended contacting individual architects and asking them what was their speciality. At this point, I was wondering what institutes do. I was feeling like a hamster running inside a wheel--very busy but getting nowhere. Already I was out half an hour and the price of a long-distance phone call, only to find myself staring at the yellow pages, exactly where I would have started if I hadn't falsely assumed the institute would know all there was to know about their members. In my mind, I filed institutions with bureaucracy in the "frustrating to common-sense file."
Running my finger down the yellow pages, I stopped at a firm that advertised their use of 3-D CAD computer design. Dialling the number brought me in contact with the person whose name was also in the title of the company. The architect said he did not personally know any marine architects, but he did offer the best advice I received in three calls. He recommended I phone some of the bigger marinas in town.
In a matter of moments I was talking with the general manager of the Britannia Yacht Club. The GM was very helpful; he happened to have a business card of a naval architect within arm's reach. My search was over; the immensity of a world with which I was unfamiliar had shrunk.
I stared at the phone number of the naval architect and filled with apprehension. I wondered if the professional would consider me a crackpot and chastise me for wasting his time. Driven by my need for knowledge, I phoned him anyway and cautiously delivered my spiel. My apprehension was quickly quelled: the architect's response made it clear he was genuinely interested in the prospect of designing the ark. To my surprise, he requested a meeting even though I told him I couldn't afford a consultation fee.
After a two-week game of phone tag, our schedules finally allowed me to be on my way to the architect's home. At the time I didn't have the luxury of a car, much less a plane. I was thankful he didn't live on one of the coasts and was pleasantly surprised he lived only ten blocks from my home. This coincidence suited me just fine.
Like my boat-building teacher, this friendly architect was also trained in Britain. As a matter of interest, the two have met. During our preliminary discussion I learned a bit about his background: success was not delivered to him on a silver plate. He had worked hard to earn his degree, beginning as an apprentice-draftsman at an English shipyard that provided him with a scholarship to study naval architecture and shipbuilding at King's College in Newcastle. The three-year course took him four years to complete because, throughout his schooling years, he worked in the shipyard's drawing offices and in the yard as welder and millwright. I consider his hands-on experience an asset to his overall knowledge of his craft. This will be in his favour when I choose an architect to design the ark's blueprints.
The meeting continued with me refreshing his memory of what I was after. I reiterated the pole shift theory, the possibility pole shifts are a recurring natural phenomena and the possible link to the legend of Noah. Qualifying my sanity, I shared with him that, if the theory is wrong, building an ark will not be a waste of time because there is always the 'Noah's Theme Park' scenario. We both laughed. Yet, given the number of people involved in the religions that include the story of Noah in their teachings, a full scale ark housing a petting zoo will likely draw a substantial number of people annually. I felt my credibility increase.
Humour had broken any remaining ice and the meeting began to flow. The architect went to fetch his pad, pen and calculator. My lack of confidence with math was reflected in the amazement I felt watching the speed and ease with which he crunched numbers; the outcome of the crunching, however, did not please me.
The first figure he shared was a grand total of one billion eight hundred and nineteen million dollars to build the ark, calculated at ten dollars per pound for every pound of ark. The architect explained present-day shipyards usually work with steel for a vessel of such proportions. Technology has surpassed wooden ship construction and he feared the skills required for wooden construction might now be lost.
Luxury liners and coast guard cutter construction go as high as thirty dollars per pound; the cheapest steel construction goes for between five and six dollars per pound. The price per pound rises dramatically with the amount of electronics and subsequent wiring required.
An option to reduce the total cost was offered: half the ark's size, which drops the block co-efficient, resulting in a smaller, less sound and much cheaper version of the ark. The two-hundred-fifty-foot adolescent ark could be built for the more reasonable price of only one hundred million dollars.
Although I listened intently to the professional, I knew in my heart the size and materials used are not negotiable. I asked him if eliminating the shipyard and building on my own property, registering a company to qualify for wholesale prices for building materials, and heading up the construction with skilled advisers would dramatically reduce the ark's grand total. The architect agreed this was indeed a fact.
Next, I wanted to know how much he would charge to draw a set of blueprints for my ark. He told me I was looking at a fee of about thirty to forty thousand dollars; he added he would consider the research fun. The project presented an exciting challenge and he would be happy to do the drawings. I noticed he left out the word "lucrative".
As we concluded our meeting, the architect said, "Follow your dream, Tom." I felt quite strongly he was not simply humouring me; he was encouraging me. We walked out onto his porch. His next question was more of a probing into my psyche to establish my motivation.
He asked, "Which religion do you follow?" I explained I consider myself spiritual, but that I have a problem with organized religion because it damns the souls of all non-followers and in my mind such behaviour is not god-like. He nodded, I think in agreement. My answer seemed to satisfy him.
"One more question before you go," he said. "How much do you plan to charge for passage on the day of your presumed pole shift?" I replied, "Passengers will ride for free. The manifest will consist of participants who helped build the ark and also those who possess essential knowledge to aid survivors in their continued survival." I concluded by saying, "Of course the ark's designer would have a reservation if that's what you're getting at." We both let out a hardy laugh. Unbeknownst to each other, we were laughing for different reasons. I was laughing because I was talking to a perfectly sensible man and including him in a reality seemingly of my own creation; the architect explained to me what was tickling his funny bone.
His first job had been designing boilers. The boiler designer's office was one floor directly above the room where new boilers were tested. Whether intentional or not, this arrangement worked as an added incentive for designers to be careful not to make mistakes. My invitation to the ark's maiden voyage had presented a similar situation. I laughed again while wondering if he wondered what I had found so funny the first time I laughed. I was glad our reasons were different.
Ignorance has no boundaries. "Knowledge is power." One billion eight hundred and nineteen million is a finite number. Even though the figure was unthinkably out of reach, I felt as tall as the CN Tower as I walked home.
I remembered the architect's comment that he believes skills for wooden ship construction might not exist anymore. This reminded of a conversation I had with the second-in-command to my boat-building teacher. The two of them retrained people like me, giving us job skills to take into our futures. During a break one day, he remarked that someday he would love to build a full-size schooner like the Bluenose. This guy was a cabinetmaker. For those who don't know, a cabinetmaker's skill with wood far exceeds the common house framer’s. Cabinetmakers are truly skilled carpenters.
However, when unions were dividing up the trades, the making of cabinets fell into the textile unions and, unfortunately, their wages reflect the difference in union bargaining strength. And I don't think their title reflects their mastery of wood. When I quizzed this man about not having experience building boats of this size, he told me experience is irrelevant; if he had a set of plans, he could build it.
My teacher has twenty-eight years of experience working with wood and his second has twenty-three years experience. They guide students with very little experience and produce professional, top quality boats and cabinets. My own feeling is that the skills to build a wooden ark are still out there. I believe my teacher and his second, armed with a set of plans, could build a wooden Eiffel Tower.
As I continued to walk, I felt confidence in whatever is guiding me; it is as though I have a partner. I trust it will do its share to help me. I merely have to keep focused on the smaller goals and allow the fates to intervene in their own time. A humongous job is really just a series of small jobs that create the whole project.
A voice soothed me as I walked home from the architect's; echoing within my mind, it repeated, "The universe will provide. It is not for you to worry." The voice seemed to derive power from the sun's beams, which radiated down upon me on that glorious day. I'll admit the source of the voice is an enigma to me, but I did feel empowered by it.
The prophecies I consider "most reliable" give dates for a possible cataclysm start with the year 2000 and end at 2013 with the Inca calendar. Edgar Cayce's prophecy of a pole shift happening between 2000 and 2001, and the fact that the grand alignment falls in this same time period, causes me to feel somewhat panicky about 5/5/2000. Obviously, I can't build an ark by 5/5/2000; I will have to rely on a back-up plan for that date. Yet, I think the ark will serve Providence in three ways. It will bring survivors to safety. The story will be talked about well into the future. And, when the artifact is found it will create the awareness that pole shifting is a survivable recurring natural phenomenon. It's too important to be left out because I was to slow to act. I'm hoping my feelings around 5/5/2000 were wrong and designed by Providence to motivate me into action--because it would know, I leave things 'til the last minute and there is nothing like a good scare to light a fire under my butt.
Now that I've blown the chance to be ready for 5/5/2000 I have a better understanding that time is compressing all that still needs to be done into an ever-shrinking number of days. I cannot afford to be lackadaisical in accomplishing the smaller goals of my rather large plan. My goals are as follows: first, write the book; second, distribute the book; third, send a deposit to the architect; fourth, purchase the property and prepare to build; fifth, build the ark.
Now I know there is going to be some debate over my choice of materials. Even Dave Fasold would probably disagree with my choice of using wood. He thought the Ark was a reed boat, I think because they found and analyzed reeds in the anomaly. Reeds soaked with pitch. In descriptions of the Ark's construction the term gopher wood is used. I've heard two explanations of the term. One says it is a misinterpretation of GPR, which comes out of the Sumerian KPR meaning to smear and probably refers to the smearing of the tar. The other explanation said it is not a kind of wood but rather a process of laminating wood together. If we consider building the Ark out of wood, lamination is a must because of its size. I suspect that whatever was analyzed may have been a kind of insulation. As I contemplate building the ark, I think that the two-and-a-half inch planking is too close from the outside of the hull to the inside. Therefore I'm thinking hay (maybe they used reeds) soaked in pine tar laid between ribs with another deck on the inside of the one foot square ribs might be "just the ticket." This would create a very water resistant, insulated double hull.
The legends say the whole boat was covered with pitch. I'll assume that pine tar used by North American First Nations on birch bark canoes will do nicely. I don't for a minute think modern-day epoxy could be beaten for strength and durability, but it's very expensive. Pine is probably not the ideal wood for wooden boat construction (it does fit the "resinous wood" requirement probably for flexibility). Yet, considering this is not a boat of many trips and that it doesn't have to survive for years in the water, I've decided to make do with materials that are easily obtainable.
Pine and possibly maple will be the main building materials because they are abundant in this region. I've heard about a waterproof glue made from fish bones and entrails that will replace epoxy for laminating logs and boards together. I've not found the recipe as yet, but I have no doubt it will come. The whole thing will be covered with pine tar as it's built. This will slow down the drying and checking for which pine is notorious, plus seal the boat and make it extremely water resistant. I think it's a great and do-able plan.
Here is another good example of how serendipity provides me with what I need to know when I need to know it. Quite some time ago before I had the Internet in my house, a friend of mine was kind enough to help me download and print some information that I could take home and study. Some of that information was Samuel Windsor's geometric calculations for Dave Fasold's site that we discussed in chapter four. My friend is very computer literate. As he flew from site to site downloading and printing, I must admit I couldn't grasp the jist of each site before he was on to the next. It sounded something like, "You want it?" "Yup!" "You want it?" "Yup!"
Unbeknownst to me I did not have all of the information available from Mr. Windsor's site. I had Noah's Ark: It's Geometry and two diagrams "Plan View-Hull Only" and the "Lofted Shape" of the Ark. I had these for several months while I chopped away at finishing my book. They were always in plain view and I looked at them often.
Earlier in the book, I described the ark as elliptical. Well, it’s not quite elliptical. It is more elliptical than it is rectangular. But it's fatter at one end than at the other, like a tear drop. In Mr. Windsor's drawing he shows the fat end resembling the front end of a tugboat as being the front end of the Ark. The back end runs from the beam in sleek lines to form a point. If this were the front end of the ship, it would resemble the body of a sleek racing sailboat that we might expect to see in the running of the America's Cup.
Given the need for speed up the face of the waves that I expect to come from the Atlantic Ocean, I suspected he might have it backwards. This assumption is bolstered for me because of two iron masses, forty-eight inches each, found closer to that end of the ship. I think these are bollards to which the drogue stone ropes were attached. Well maybe not bollards but rather a kind of quick release and catch kind of winch that performs like a fishing reel that gives six-pound-test the ability to land a twelve pound fish. The anchor lines must be let out rather than the lines being fully deployed and allow the boat to climb on the swing. I developed a need to prove to myself which end is which. I decided to make two models with ropes (string) attached at opposite ends, then to test them against a rush of water and see which climbs the best.
This would not be terribly scientific with a lot of detail to scale and attention to proper weight distribution. I traced Mr. Windsor's lofted shape then cut out two identical shapes the same size as his drawing (about five inches) from a piece of cedar. I sanded them, making them sleek so as to offer each an equal chance to prove itself once I figured out how to simulate a tsunami. I made them as identical as my eyes allowed. Next I drilled four holes to countersink nuts into the light cedar to simulate its cargo. I used poly filler to hold the nuts in place and to shape a sleek superstructure. I fitted tiny little cedar keels down the centre of each boat and used more poly filler to continue it around the bow and stern.
Next I needed to simulate the pitch. I had a can of roof patch in my van that I use for attaching satellite dishes to roofs. This had to be done in two stages, mainly because I didn't want to get my hands too dirty. I did the bottoms first. Keeping the lines of the keels true was the most important part of this process. As I spread this gunk nice and evenly across the tiny hulls I noticed that the tar was spreading nicely but that there were tiny little fibres matting up on the screwdriver. I had to keep wiping them off on a paper towel. This added considerably to the time I spent covering the bottom of the hulls. When I was done I laid them on their superstructures to dry overnight.
That evening I went into cyber world. I was looking for a site that I had seen before which states the bottom of the hull of the anomaly was ripped off and remains a couple-hundred feet uphill from Dave's site. Both David Fasold and Samuel Windsor believe there was a pretty huge hole up the middle of the boat called a moon pool (today moon pools are used to stabilize ocean oil drilling platforms). I was hoping a re-read of the website would allow me to conclude that the moon pool was simply a mistake. I thought that while scanning the anomaly the apparent 'hole' might have been caused because the bottom of the boat isn't there. I didn't like the idea of a hole up the centre of my boat. I was thinking it might cause drag and impede the ark's flight up the face of a tsunami.
After punching Dave's name into the search engine which basically pulls up every website worth its salt for studying the previous Ark (I have concluded that if a site doesn't mention Dave Fasold in a positive manner, then it's probably not talking about the 'real' remains of Noah's Ark). From the listings I recognized eskimo.com as the source of the paperwork I had from Samuel Windsor. I'd not been back to the site since my buddy downloaded the info he'd given me. It beckoned to me. Much like a desire to visit an old friend, I had a look around and found something I'd not yet seen that greatly disturbed me. I did not have Noah's Ark 24,000 Tons of Dead Weight. In it Mr. Windsor basically explained why the boat was not made of wood. He said the biggest attempt to build a wooden boat was three hundred and fifty feet and it was a structural disaster. Mind you, he did add that it could not be a "thin hulled wooden boat." More or less, I think he was debunking the notion of a rectangular Ark described in doctrines, with which I would agree.
However, I also think it's quite a leap from not being 'a thin hulled rectangular wooden boat' to not being 'a wooden boat at all.' Both Dave and Sam consider the hull of the Ark to be solid, made with logs created by binding up reeds soaked in pitch. They speculate a superstructure was built above the reed barge, which housed the cargo and crew. Their superstructures are different but they do agree everything was above the upper deck. They also agree the moon pool was used to dump manure, its wave action caused forced air ventilation, and it helped to stabilize the ship. As the ship spans two swells or cleaves the crest of a wave, the moon pool would empty and support the ships midsection.
Although I was immediately impressed with the ingenuity of the moon pool and agreed with its necessity, I still didn't agree the boat was made mainly of reeds, or that the crew and cargo were housed above the main deck. It seemed silly to me to build a hull of that size and then build a superstructure almost the same size to be a warehouse. In Mr. Windsor's defence, I should say it is obvious that he attempted to give us a rational interpretation of how a primitive man named Noah achieved the building of the boat represented by the anomaly. The anomaly is not fully excavated and he is not at liberty to do a whole lot of speculating. He is a Marine Engineer. Speculating the way I do would cost both him and Dave their scientific credibility. He does state that for things to be below decks, Noah would have needed bilge pumps and scuppers for eliminating water and waste. Thank goodness I don't have to be as careful. Given that I think the state of technology was advanced at the time of the Ark's construction, I don't think Noah was primitive at all. I have no problem granting Noah anything he needed to create a wooden Ark.
However, the stresses on a wooden construction do remain great and now I had many concerns around my plans to build a wooden ark. I went to bed thinking about it. I tossed and turned all night. I woke up thinking about it and laid in bed immobilized for about an hour (this is highly unusual for me--I'm one of those who springs out of bed totally refreshed). I finally dragged myself out of bed to face the dreary day. I felt heavy with my new burden. The wind was stolen from my sails. I went outside to my little models to put a coating of roof patch on their superstructures--I still needed to know which end would perform best.
The legends are pretty consistent about covering the whole thing with pitch. I recognize the importance of sealing the boat. But I've always suspected the pitch was practical for other reasons as well. I've viewed a lot of information on pole shifting where fire storms are a concern although I'm not sure why. And there are the expectations of a lot of lightning as weather patterns go awry. In my own mind, I'm concerned that the waters may become super heated by magma. By filling in between the ribs with pitch we might insulate the craft. I've also suspected that volcanic ambers might ignite the unprotected wood so this might be another reason for covering the whole boat with tar.
But on that morning while coating the superstructures with roof patch I gained a brand new understanding of why all this talk about pitch and reeds is so significant. While spreading the roof patch, those nasty little fibres appeared again bunching up on the end of my screwdriver. Yet instead of finding them annoying, I became intrigued by them. I began to notice that although some of them were piling up on the screwdriver, others were laying down in the tar. I thought perhaps the fibres lying down in the tar represented the purpose of the reeds in the Ark's construction. It struck me that this is representative of a poor man's fibreglass.
I remembered the cedar strip canoes I built; the flimsy quarter-inch strips of cedar that were glued together on a jig. A four-year-old could easily demolish this wooden body if it were removed from the jig. Yet, lay some fibreglass cloth over it, soak it with resin and allow it to dry. Then, pop it off the jig and do the same to the inside and suddenly a couple of full grown men could shoot the rapids in it. That is, if they can keep the silly thing balanced--canoeing is something I'm not terribly good at.
Indeed these fibres whether they were hay, reeds or grass soaked with bitumen would create their own kind of log between the ribs. If every inch of the ark were covered with fibres lying down within wood tar, when it dried the torsion strength of the vessel would be greatly increased. Most any fibre in sufficient numbers bound together properly can produce rope strong enough to bend a length of steel. I found myself regaining confidence that wood is the main building material.
The only thing that remained for me to do to be back on track was to address the design modifications needed to accommodate a moon pool. I was very leery of the stress on the vessel expressed by Mr. Windsor. I thought the boat needed some real structure to it. I began thinking the walls of the moon pool could become two keels. But to have an unobstructed hole up the middle of the ship was too bold for me. I figured it needed a centre keel as well. The centre keel should be one solid piece running the length of the ship and should not include a gap of almost two hundred feet at the moon pool.
Taking rough measurements off Samuel's drawings and scaling them up to give me a better idea of area, I calculated the moon pool to be about twenty-seven point six feet wide and one-hundred-ninety-three point two feet long. I thought, "that's plenty of room for the keel, ribs and deck supports to crisscross within the moon pool and while still leaving the moon pool fully functional."
I want the side walls of the moon pool to be solid walls running as far down the structure in both directions as possible. I found they ran unobstructed pretty much the full length of the ship. It was then that I noticed the hull divisions would accommodate another two solid walls on each side of the keel running length ways where her width increases. My lengthwise walls matched perfectly with the hull divisions and gave the walls solid (let's say six foot) cross sections to connect to. The hull is looking pretty strong to me when I imagine the lengthwise solid walls to be six, four and then two feet thick.
I wonder if this is what Utanapishtim means, when he is quoted in the Gilgamesh Epic: "I laid out the shape of her sides and joined her together". Because that's exactly how I plan to rebuild her. First I would pour the footings where the keels would go. Then start laying down the keels. Except for the centre keel the solid walls are essentially sides. I would make connections crossways as she grew. I would also grid the site with squared telephone poles; these will become incorporated into the structure. As the bottom of the hull is planked, telephone poles get cut out at the bottom yet they remain as vertical support within the structure. These poles will allow work to be done on more than one level at a time. We might even get a roof on it before winter blows in.
While I'm interpreting the Gilgamesh Epic, I'd like to add that the translation I read quoted 'Noah' as saying, "what I had of silver I loaded aboard her; what I had of gold I loaded aboard her". I think they ought to reconsider a couple of their translated words; because as I consider rebuilding this thing, it translates more accurately to me, "I spent every red cent I could get my hands on". Instead of loaded the word is probably spent. To back my translation up it states earlier in the epic that he abandoned the pursuit of material rational reality. What good is a load of silver or gold after a cataclysm? One can only wear so much jewellery. The time when shiny stones have any value will be a long way off into the future when trade is re-established.
Matching up those lines was very exciting because in Samuel's paper it specifically states, "no significance to apparent hull divisions has been assigned except for speed control from centre opening." I'm sure this would have been an easy discovery for him if he were looking to build this boat out of wood. But for me, it was a real work out. It took me two days to get to that point because I worked from the moon pool outward. I am very proud. When all of my drawings were complete, I could hear the little ditty "Sailing, sailing, over the ocean blue ..." playing in my head. OK, Ok! I was singin' it, too.
By the way, I did try my little models. They didn't work at all in my simulation of a tsunami (dumping a full bucket of water into the bathtub all at once). It seems poly filler is much heavier than cedar--their natural lie is superstructure down. I knew this was going to be the case as I made them. They kept flipping over when dangled from their strings while their sterns remained on the workbench. I did try a more controlled flow of water, a steady current from the bucket. My pointy-ended front did perform better--but we must remember the other had more poly filler on the crucial end so I don't trust the experiment at all. Oh well, I'm not terribly worried. I'm certain a marine architect will recognize the front of the boat just by looking at the drawings.
In an effort to give you an honest account of the information revealed from my research I have added a postscript to this chapter. I sent Samuel Windsor a copy of my last edit. I was hoping for an endorsement. What I got back was a fifteen-page critique. My impression of this man is one of awe and respect. He is very intelligent. He corrected some errors I made and shared some of his thoughts and insights from his own pursuit of truth. Basically he agrees that a cataclysm will restart civilization as it has in the past. But he believes it will be the result of a rogue planet passing very close to the earth. This theory is not completely unknown to me. Such an occurrence is talked about in the histories of various cultures and there are many prophecies about a comet-like occurrence as a precursor to the earth's unrest.
I certainly don't pretend to know absolutely what is the trigger of the unrest. My common sense latches onto what makes sense to me and I am aware that what makes sense to me changes as I learn new things (like I said, seldom do humans move from wonder to understanding in one clear concise jump). Indeed, when I re-read my manuscript it sounds like I've formed a solid opinion of the words written. This couldn't be further from the truth. What is missing in these written words is the time I've spent away from the computer during countless rewrites. The times when I've stewed and pondered over ambiguous problems that really have no answer. There is only wait and see. But there are things that need to be guessed at if I'm trying to beat this thing. These guesses guide me and, more often than not, lead me to learn something that seems even more logical within my expanded boundary of common sense. Dave Fasold probably said it best, "I am in a constant state of flux. My positions are as up to date as the last book I read or the last thought I had."
Sam gave me a list of fifteen books to read that will piece together what it is that he has come to believe. Whether I'm right or wrong or on my way to some other understanding, these are my current beliefs and this book will go out as written. If my position changes you can expect another book to bring you, the reader, along on this journey.
Furthermore he said, "You asked if I could endorse the manuscript. Except for the few errors in it (and of course I can't endorse the truths about the Ark and marine technology with which I disagree), I certainly endorse your effort. I think you are on the right path. I also think that you have some house-cleaning to do in your intellect/emotional balance. I think the quality of the manuscript depends upon your success at this more than it does upon your actual presentation. Presentation will follow clarity of thinking and correct identification of motive."
(This book has gone through a couple edits since and I'm satisfied with my current presentation. So many people take away from this book that I am predicting the world cataclysm will happen on 5/5/2000. I am not. I am simply explaining how I came to believe what I believe. For me learning about the grand alignment gave my intellect something real to hang on to, which says there are external influences in the universe that could impact our earth in a cataclysmic way. My boundaries of rational reality were expanded. The mammoth story tells me pole shifts do happen and we've discussed the possible internal influences but how and when it happens remains a mystery. And, I remain open minded and consider that I am still learning.)
"Your pursuit of preparation for the next worldwide cataclysm misses a major point. There is (I like you believe) a significant probability that cataclysm will restart civilization. However the Chinese will probably coalesce with the Arabs or Persians and march across Europe (Nostradamus). Jerusalem will probably get Solomon's Temple rebuilt (sparking the third world war). The Turks will probably be attacked supporting Israel and the sea battles occur just outside Istanbul (in the Dardenelles). The present Pope will probably be replaced by "he who honors an olive" (Cardinal Martini) the next-to-the-last Roman Catholic Pope. The Mississippi will probably change course and leave New Orleans dry while making Morgan City the new port in Louisiana."
"All of these things are predicted to precede the next pole shift. They may or may not. I suggest you use your considerable writing talents in a much more limited foray. Mobile survivalism is a tough enough subject without trying to convince the world of the need for it." He closes his very thorough and appreciated comments with, "I hope this is of some benefit. I have been where you are. It is both terrifying and deeply satisfying. I wish you well."
