Blog posts are all about upbeat news; stuff designed to make readers envious. At least that's what I feel when I read some of my favourites, not least a new one called Marginalia. http://www.eyeinhand.com/Marginalia/
It's often the stateside blogs which make me most envious and this one is no exception. Here he is swanning his melonseed around a big pond in the lee of Assateague island, a sandy barrier north of the Chesapeake which looks so exotic. It's probably disappointing when you get there, but that's the joy of the internet, and the magic of Google Earth in particular which allows you to swoop down into other people's back yards.
I shouldn't say this, but when I get an enquiry for a boat I will often Google Earth to see where the fellow lives, from which you can tell a great deal about his or her serious intentions. Dare I say it, but a caravan site off the M6 is less likely to yield an order than a detached house in West Sussex. That's the pity, as the guy in the caravan's need to escape would be far greater, but for the lack of dosh. If I were a millionaire boat builder (is there such?) I would build for free for those whose needs are greatest and that would rule out the very, very rich. But I'm not...
Not a lot on the horizon for Viking Boats at the moment, but we have been shortlisted for a Classic Boat prize, I am told, and before you say "bribery and corruption" or "nepotism", the fact that I write a monthly page of nonsense for the magazine or that I bought the editor a pint of London Pride the other day has nothing to do with it.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Saturday, November 17, 2012
One I Made Earlier...
You may remember in posts passim I built a duck punt. No? Well, I did and not without misgivings because, sensitive creature that I am, attuned to nature and the damage we humans inflict on our planet, I was not altogether happy to build a boat that ran contrary to my deepest inclinations: a boat that would have to built in (whisper gently) pl****d and e***y.
Well I did, and here she is in her natural element, slipping into the mists in pursuit of duck. A thing of lethal beauty. Man the hunter. I'll let you know if that gert great gun at the front made any significant inroads into the wildfowl population of the estuary that day. Sure as hell the couple in her needed a dram or two to warm up on their return.
Well I did, and here she is in her natural element, slipping into the mists in pursuit of duck. A thing of lethal beauty. Man the hunter. I'll let you know if that gert great gun at the front made any significant inroads into the wildfowl population of the estuary that day. Sure as hell the couple in her needed a dram or two to warm up on their return.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Viking Boat Launched on Merseyside
So that's what they wanted my faering for... read on (courtesy of the Liverpool Echo)!
A “FRIENDLY” Viking invasion saw a replica boat launched on Merseyside.
The 16.5ft reconstruction of the Viking boat forms the centrepiece of an educational project which uses history to teach youngsters about current issues, including climate change.
The boat was launched at Wirral’s West Kirby beach by the ecoVikings project. This will see a team of Viking warriors travelling to schools in Merseyside to encourage children to both respect the coastline and lower their carbon emissions, by signing the ecoViking “pledge.”.
Spokesman Dean Paton said: “We’ve used an example from history of the great Viking seafarers who harnessed the power of the wind and waves to be masters of Northern Europe.
“Vikings were recycling, insulating buildings and using wind and wave power over 1,000 years ago, something that we as a society must try to replicate in order to live sustainable lives.”
The two-man rowing boat is a reconstruction of the only Viking boat to be discovered in mainland Britain – the Ardnamurchan Burial Boat.
It was crafted using traditional methods and materials and is an almost inch-perfect replica.
The boat has a link with Merseyside as the Viking warrior found buried inside it was wearing Hiberno-Norse jewellery, the same type that were discovered in huge numbers in Meols, highlighting the links between the Mersey and the Viking world in the 10th century.
The ecoVikings scheme is being organised by Merseytravel through the EU-funded Climatlantic project.
Mr Paton said the image of the Vikings they were trying to convey ran counter to the traditional view of “raping, pillaging, and looting.”
He added: “They cared for their environment and they didn’t have a concept of waste as everything was used. They are a great lesson for us to learn about how to look after our environment.”
After touring schools, the Viking boat will go on display at the Museum of Liverpool on November 24/25.
YouTube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWIT8S-TN3Q
A “FRIENDLY” Viking invasion saw a replica boat launched on Merseyside.
The 16.5ft reconstruction of the Viking boat forms the centrepiece of an educational project which uses history to teach youngsters about current issues, including climate change.
The boat was launched at Wirral’s West Kirby beach by the ecoVikings project. This will see a team of Viking warriors travelling to schools in Merseyside to encourage children to both respect the coastline and lower their carbon emissions, by signing the ecoViking “pledge.”.
Spokesman Dean Paton said: “We’ve used an example from history of the great Viking seafarers who harnessed the power of the wind and waves to be masters of Northern Europe.
The two-man rowing boat is a reconstruction of the only Viking boat to be discovered in mainland Britain – the Ardnamurchan Burial Boat.
It was crafted using traditional methods and materials and is an almost inch-perfect replica.
The boat has a link with Merseyside as the Viking warrior found buried inside it was wearing Hiberno-Norse jewellery, the same type that were discovered in huge numbers in Meols, highlighting the links between the Mersey and the Viking world in the 10th century.
The ecoVikings scheme is being organised by Merseytravel through the EU-funded Climatlantic project.
Mr Paton said the image of the Vikings they were trying to convey ran counter to the traditional view of “raping, pillaging, and looting.”
He added: “They cared for their environment and they didn’t have a concept of waste as everything was used. They are a great lesson for us to learn about how to look after our environment.”
After touring schools, the Viking boat will go on display at the Museum of Liverpool on November 24/25.
YouTube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JWIT8S-TN3Q
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Sula Latest
With Mattis away now, it's up to me to keep up standards as Sula enters her final stages of building. After a liberal soaking with linseed oil, I followed up with another of Varnol, pure turpentine, a generous dose of CooVar (Yacht & Seaplane) varnish, with a dash of bitumen, much like adding Tabasco to a stew.
Meanwhile, if Shetland boats are your thing, then pick up a copy of Alison Munro's excellent booklet, available from the Unst Heritage Trust, Haroldswick, Unst, Shetland ZE2 9ED Price £14.99
email: info@unstheritage.com
Meanwhile, if Shetland boats are your thing, then pick up a copy of Alison Munro's excellent booklet, available from the Unst Heritage Trust, Haroldswick, Unst, Shetland ZE2 9ED Price £14.99
email: info@unstheritage.com
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
Taking Over
Mattis Voss, who first approached me via a well-worded letter of introduction, is off to Norway next week, leaving me the task of finishing the Shetland yole he began - or rather which I began by making the stems a few months back.
It's a strange thing working on a boat that someone else has built and put heart and soul into. A boat, until it's delivered, belongs to the builder even if the money's been paid. You form a strong bond with that inanimate object through hours of head scratching, planing and hammering which is hard to break. And now, after little or no head scratching, just the occasional word of advice, I will be charged with bringing it to fruition - like fostering someone else's child.
In contrast - and what a contrast it is between the Shetland boat and the faering - the faering I built is off south soon and although I will be glad to see it safely delivered, part of me would like to keep it a little longer, even to the extent of paying back the fee.
In truth, I'll be sorry to see it go. In so many ways it is different to the yole; the one being as precise an interpretation of the plans as Mattis's skills could make it, vs the faering for which the brief was to build a boat that looked like it could have been built many centuries ago, hence the darkened oiled finish and the tool marks. Much else departs from the plans, both in basics such as length and sheerline as well as details, like the breasthooks and frames. It feels more like my boat, rather than the designer's. I like that!
But it is not, of course, my boat. The owner whose instructions I tried to follow will soon take possession of her and I hope that my interpretation of what he wanted will be the same as his, if you see what I mean.
It's a strange thing working on a boat that someone else has built and put heart and soul into. A boat, until it's delivered, belongs to the builder even if the money's been paid. You form a strong bond with that inanimate object through hours of head scratching, planing and hammering which is hard to break. And now, after little or no head scratching, just the occasional word of advice, I will be charged with bringing it to fruition - like fostering someone else's child.
In contrast - and what a contrast it is between the Shetland boat and the faering - the faering I built is off south soon and although I will be glad to see it safely delivered, part of me would like to keep it a little longer, even to the extent of paying back the fee.
"Pity. I'd like to keep this one for myself..." |
But it is not, of course, my boat. The owner whose instructions I tried to follow will soon take possession of her and I hope that my interpretation of what he wanted will be the same as his, if you see what I mean.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Honesty
Coming to boat building from a different angle than some people; ie the world of journalism, I have always felt it my duty to report the truth about what I do. "Journalist writing about the truth?" you say. Well yes. And it has sometimes been counted against me, for instance the occasions when I bear my soul about mistakes or, as I like to call them, "things that could have been done better".
I have in the past pointed out deviations in the line of planking; less than fag paper fits and such like in the hope that by pointing out flaws, people will realise not how difficult it is to build a clinker boat, but how hard it is to make it perfect. If you tried to find perfection you would drive yourself crazy, for it is often in the so-called imperfections that true beauty and originality are found.
Take plans, for example. Building a class dinghy and, of course, tolerances have to be adhered to, but in the case of a custom commission then it's important not to become a slave to plans. In any case, even the best designers often expect clinker planks to conform to the most impossible curves. Left to their own devices, planking will achieve its own fairness, so long as you impose strict but benign discipline or boundaries; rather like young children, I imagine.
That means not allowing them to creep up the moulds at the quarters, especially - a danger point in all clinker boats. But to an extent you can trust them to tell you where they are happy to lie and the worst thing you can do is apply too much force or, to stretch the child analogy, unnecessary cruelty or punishment.
And yet this honesty has its downsides. Who wants to hear that their boat could have been built better? Who wants her flaws, however minor or trivial or imperceptible, flagged up? I could pretend that everything went to plan, effortlessly, and yet I know for a fact that very few boat builders achieve perfection and certainly not without extreme effort and thought. So, why not, given the complexity of the task, admit that the line of rivets near the bow is uneven; the second strake down at the stern could do with another 1/8th in or even mention the tiny split that appeared at a hood end fastening but which will never, ever give any trouble? I like to think that it humanises the process of boat building; demystifies it a little because, let's face it, building boats has always been surrounded in unjustified mystique.
I have in the past pointed out deviations in the line of planking; less than fag paper fits and such like in the hope that by pointing out flaws, people will realise not how difficult it is to build a clinker boat, but how hard it is to make it perfect. If you tried to find perfection you would drive yourself crazy, for it is often in the so-called imperfections that true beauty and originality are found.
Take plans, for example. Building a class dinghy and, of course, tolerances have to be adhered to, but in the case of a custom commission then it's important not to become a slave to plans. In any case, even the best designers often expect clinker planks to conform to the most impossible curves. Left to their own devices, planking will achieve its own fairness, so long as you impose strict but benign discipline or boundaries; rather like young children, I imagine.
That means not allowing them to creep up the moulds at the quarters, especially - a danger point in all clinker boats. But to an extent you can trust them to tell you where they are happy to lie and the worst thing you can do is apply too much force or, to stretch the child analogy, unnecessary cruelty or punishment.
And yet this honesty has its downsides. Who wants to hear that their boat could have been built better? Who wants her flaws, however minor or trivial or imperceptible, flagged up? I could pretend that everything went to plan, effortlessly, and yet I know for a fact that very few boat builders achieve perfection and certainly not without extreme effort and thought. So, why not, given the complexity of the task, admit that the line of rivets near the bow is uneven; the second strake down at the stern could do with another 1/8th in or even mention the tiny split that appeared at a hood end fastening but which will never, ever give any trouble? I like to think that it humanises the process of boat building; demystifies it a little because, let's face it, building boats has always been surrounded in unjustified mystique.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
And now for Something Different...
All this stuff about faerings and nothing about the Shetland yole Mattis is quietly building alongside. I said quietly, when his favourite tool is an electric planer I bought off the back of a lorry and seldom take out of its box.
Anyway, Mattis has taken it to his heart and shapes planks, both tops, bottoms and ends, with it to great success. Whereas as soon as I touch it, it tears great chunks off whatever I am planing. I expect before too long he will be shaving with it (if it weren't for the razor edge he proudly showed me today on his block plane).
Without more ado, here are some shots of Sula, as taken today, with the fifth strake going up. Look and weep, for it is a thing of great beauty and Mattis is indeed a meticulous craftsman.
Anyway, Mattis has taken it to his heart and shapes planks, both tops, bottoms and ends, with it to great success. Whereas as soon as I touch it, it tears great chunks off whatever I am planing. I expect before too long he will be shaving with it (if it weren't for the razor edge he proudly showed me today on his block plane).
Without more ado, here are some shots of Sula, as taken today, with the fifth strake going up. Look and weep, for it is a thing of great beauty and Mattis is indeed a meticulous craftsman.
Monday, August 13, 2012
Launch
The faering was slipped into the limpid waters of Loch Broom at the weekend and... floated, naturally, although an alarming water spout from under the aft thwart suggested more than the usual amount of taking up time might be required. Until I realised that two temporary screw holes had not been plugged.
With no mastic between the lands I was always worried she would leak like a... faering? In fact the water came from a few places along the garboard seam where the scarphs meet the keel, which was later fixed with the application of that ancient Viking leak recipe: a dab of acrylic frame sealant, and a doubling up of the fastenings. Should be more or less leak free now.
And does she row. Like a dream, slipping along with barely a pull on the oars, whilst leaving a smooth slick in her wake, as if she was made to fit the water.
Still some finising to do, and more Varnol. To date she has swallowed up about six litres of the precious stuff, from a store that was supposed to last a year.
The steerboard appears to turn the boat, though how strongly I have yet to determine. I have a good feeling about it, and it looks the part. It can be made bigger.
I like to be brutally honest (probably to my detriment) about things that "could have been done better" but overall, the impression is good. The faering to my mind is the simplest but most ingenious small boat to have evolved. Just three strakes and you have as elegant a shape as any afloat. It does require good timber though. And one day I will build one without the aid of moulds, just a table of strake angles and a gadget that looks like an inclinometer to measure them.
Beautiful? But that's surely in the eye of the beholder. Could I do better next time? Of course: a closer fit here; a slight imperfection in the line of a land; a tiny split at a nail... As Tom Whitfield, a time-served boatbuilder who emails me from Australia with comments would say: "you never stop learning..."
Friday, August 10, 2012
Progress
With any luck we'll pop her in the water this afternoon and see how much water she makes. I used very little if any mastic in the lands; only at the stems anf around the scarphs (a first for me) so it will be interesting to see whether she needs to take up or not.
The steerboard arrangement is a synthesis of all available information without copying anything in particular. Did the Vikings do it the same way every tie? If they were anything like the boat builders I know, they would have been constantly trying something a little different, rather than sticking to the same old pattern. Hence my take on the rudder arrangement.
Any further back and it would have been impossible to use, the helmsman stuck up in the back; any further forward and it would not have been effective. Nor could the aft stammerung or cant frame be moved from its position supporting the stern sections, so the logical answer was to build a sturdy but separate supporting frame for the steerboard. We'll see. If it doesn't work, then it can be removed, as can pretty much everything in a clinker boat with the aid of a file to release the roves.
And bow on there's nothing to compare to the shape of a faering...
The steerboard arrangement is a synthesis of all available information without copying anything in particular. Did the Vikings do it the same way every tie? If they were anything like the boat builders I know, they would have been constantly trying something a little different, rather than sticking to the same old pattern. Hence my take on the rudder arrangement.
Any further back and it would have been impossible to use, the helmsman stuck up in the back; any further forward and it would not have been effective. Nor could the aft stammerung or cant frame be moved from its position supporting the stern sections, so the logical answer was to build a sturdy but separate supporting frame for the steerboard. We'll see. If it doesn't work, then it can be removed, as can pretty much everything in a clinker boat with the aid of a file to release the roves.
And bow on there's nothing to compare to the shape of a faering...
Wednesday, August 8, 2012
Nearly There...
Twenty eight days down the line and the Woodfish is nearing completion. As this is to be an authentic-ish faering; ie one that might have been dug up somewhere along the West Coast, the finish has been given the Varnol and tar treatment. It's not the yacht-like finish I have been used to, and indeed it took some getting used to. I have to admit that the rich, warm, brown colour is quite appealing and enhances the grain, without losing the character of the superb larch I managed to lay my hands on. That's one teaspoon of bitumen paint to one litre of Varnol, thinned as usual with turps. I reckon a teaspoon per two litres would have been enough as the larch will darken of its own accord anyway.
The treatment does however pick up any discolourations, notably the water marks where the ends of the strakes were steamed into the stems. It gives the wood an interesting, pre-used look. In fact working on the faering at this stage of the build feels more like a restoration than a new build. The pristine, yachtiness and obsessively sanded finish has given way to a more natural look. And I have been careful to leave the tool marks.
Why? Well, as you have probably guessed the boat is to be part of a collection of Viking-age type boats and needed to look the part. This particular faering dates from the 19th century, but can trace its roots back to the Viking age and that unbelievably lovely Gokstad faering. So, a compromise.
Mattis meanwhile is doing his usual excellent work on the Sula, another Iain Oughtred design, but a traditional Shetland yole, not a (nasty) plywood job. As both stems have rabbets, the strakes have to be made in sections; the garboards in two, the next strake in three, and the last four in two also. Otherwise, how on earth do you fit a full-length strake into the bow and stern rabbets? Was it ever done thus?
There will be four strakes up by the end of this week and believe me, they are close to perfection. What will I do when he departs for Norway on September 10?
Postscript
Just had an email from Ted Phillips for whom I built an 18ft sjekte some time back. He entered the English Raid (East Coast rivers). I like the bit about prettiest boat. Not surprised (no need to be modest here, as I believe Florence Oliver to be the best looking boat I am ever likely to build).
Dear Adrian
I completed the raid ending last Sunday and have attached a photograph. This was taken at the end of a race up the Orwell to Orwell sailing club where the fleet were given a generous welcome including a very formal welcome a hand shake from the vice commodore. Very nice club and very nice people.
Anyway, FO got the vote from the rest of the fleet for prettiest boat so you can give yourself a pat on the back for that.
FO went very well and sailed very competitively in a fairly fresh breeze.
You will notice the outboard bracket I fitted [no holes in the boat] which was very useful for locks, marinas and creeks.
Hope this is of interest.
All the best
Ted
The treatment does however pick up any discolourations, notably the water marks where the ends of the strakes were steamed into the stems. It gives the wood an interesting, pre-used look. In fact working on the faering at this stage of the build feels more like a restoration than a new build. The pristine, yachtiness and obsessively sanded finish has given way to a more natural look. And I have been careful to leave the tool marks.
Why? Well, as you have probably guessed the boat is to be part of a collection of Viking-age type boats and needed to look the part. This particular faering dates from the 19th century, but can trace its roots back to the Viking age and that unbelievably lovely Gokstad faering. So, a compromise.
Mattis meanwhile is doing his usual excellent work on the Sula, another Iain Oughtred design, but a traditional Shetland yole, not a (nasty) plywood job. As both stems have rabbets, the strakes have to be made in sections; the garboards in two, the next strake in three, and the last four in two also. Otherwise, how on earth do you fit a full-length strake into the bow and stern rabbets? Was it ever done thus?
There will be four strakes up by the end of this week and believe me, they are close to perfection. What will I do when he departs for Norway on September 10?
Postscript
Just had an email from Ted Phillips for whom I built an 18ft sjekte some time back. He entered the English Raid (East Coast rivers). I like the bit about prettiest boat. Not surprised (no need to be modest here, as I believe Florence Oliver to be the best looking boat I am ever likely to build).
Dear Adrian
I completed the raid ending last Sunday and have attached a photograph. This was taken at the end of a race up the Orwell to Orwell sailing club where the fleet were given a generous welcome including a very formal welcome a hand shake from the vice commodore. Very nice club and very nice people.
Anyway, FO got the vote from the rest of the fleet for prettiest boat so you can give yourself a pat on the back for that.
FO went very well and sailed very competitively in a fairly fresh breeze.
You will notice the outboard bracket I fitted [no holes in the boat] which was very useful for locks, marinas and creeks.
Hope this is of interest.
All the best
Ted
Friday, July 27, 2012
Another Week
It was on 23rd June that I set up the keel of the faering and today the gunwales were riveted home, completing the shell. That leaves all the fiddly, time-consuming bits now, as well as the mast, yard and oars. Oh, and also the steerboard which I have mocked up for size.
The sheerline has been modified slightly, lowered amidships to make a more pleasing, less chunky profile, to my eyes (and Mattis') at least. It's in keeping with this faering's extra length, vs the Woodfish plans on which it is based. It's a nice balance building to plans, but allowing yourself the freedom to depart them when you feel like it. Otherwise it's just painting by numbers - or building in plywood (but let's not go there).
I did use some of the stuff to make templates, and the mocked up steerboard. Apart from that it's just superb old larch from Perthshire, 150 years old and without a single knot in 32 boards. Well, there's one, and that's it. And boards that averaged 20 inches wide and 18ft long. When will we see the like?
So, here's some photos and I'll do my best to explain anything to those who are curious. Problems? Just the usual ones: trying to make fag-paper fits between frames and strakes that have changing angles and bevels. Nice when it works straight away, without endless fiddling and paring.
That's it for the weekend (a long one).
Meanwhile Mattis has been busy in his meticulous way, fitting the garboards to the Sula.
Although we achieve more or less the same results, our methods are often different. He put the garboards on with the keel set up and braced, whereas I do it upside down on the bench. He used a router to cut the slot, whereas I used a skill saw.
He is a little more obsessive about keeping to the plans; I like to let things take their course (that's my excuse at least). I curse when I split a plank; he swears when his rivet line is a few mm out (although I think I've got him using imperial measures for some things).I think we make a good team. Whatever, it's a pleasure to work alongside such a craftsman. Pity he's off to Norway at the end of the build...
The sheerline has been modified slightly, lowered amidships to make a more pleasing, less chunky profile, to my eyes (and Mattis') at least. It's in keeping with this faering's extra length, vs the Woodfish plans on which it is based. It's a nice balance building to plans, but allowing yourself the freedom to depart them when you feel like it. Otherwise it's just painting by numbers - or building in plywood (but let's not go there).
I did use some of the stuff to make templates, and the mocked up steerboard. Apart from that it's just superb old larch from Perthshire, 150 years old and without a single knot in 32 boards. Well, there's one, and that's it. And boards that averaged 20 inches wide and 18ft long. When will we see the like?
So, here's some photos and I'll do my best to explain anything to those who are curious. Problems? Just the usual ones: trying to make fag-paper fits between frames and strakes that have changing angles and bevels. Nice when it works straight away, without endless fiddling and paring.
That's it for the weekend (a long one).
Meanwhile Mattis has been busy in his meticulous way, fitting the garboards to the Sula.
Although we achieve more or less the same results, our methods are often different. He put the garboards on with the keel set up and braced, whereas I do it upside down on the bench. He used a router to cut the slot, whereas I used a skill saw.
He is a little more obsessive about keeping to the plans; I like to let things take their course (that's my excuse at least). I curse when I split a plank; he swears when his rivet line is a few mm out (although I think I've got him using imperial measures for some things).I think we make a good team. Whatever, it's a pleasure to work alongside such a craftsman. Pity he's off to Norway at the end of the build...
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Week Four
Too knackered to post more than a few photos of the faering at the end of a busy week both in and out of the shed. But strake three's aft sections are now up and riveted in place, and the frames have been fitted, the aft one dry - that's a job for tomorrow.
No margin of error in the hood ends. I wonder if the time-served old Norwegian faering builders had sleepless nights? Certainly not, as I once saw a grainy b/w video of a bunch of them putting an oselver faering up in what looked like ten minutes, and they certainly did not look in the least stressed; rather they looked bemused that anyone should want to capture on film what they had been doing routinely for years.
If anyone can track that video down, let me know. My copy was lent to me by Iain Oughtred, the designer of this faering. Must ask to borrow it again, if no one knows where it came from. YouTube?
So, here are the latest photos.
Meanwhile Mattis is making great progress on the Shetland Yole Sula. Maybe get him to post something about the joys of yole-building. Very few if any bad words emanating from his side of the shed, so must be having fun...
No margin of error in the hood ends. I wonder if the time-served old Norwegian faering builders had sleepless nights? Certainly not, as I once saw a grainy b/w video of a bunch of them putting an oselver faering up in what looked like ten minutes, and they certainly did not look in the least stressed; rather they looked bemused that anyone should want to capture on film what they had been doing routinely for years.
If anyone can track that video down, let me know. My copy was lent to me by Iain Oughtred, the designer of this faering. Must ask to borrow it again, if no one knows where it came from. YouTube?
So, here are the latest photos.
Meanwhile Mattis is making great progress on the Shetland Yole Sula. Maybe get him to post something about the joys of yole-building. Very few if any bad words emanating from his side of the shed, so must be having fun...
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