‘mortar’ Category

A feat of clay

November 16th, 2012 by Rick McKee

Serendipity, thy name is clay.

It just so happens that our recent daub damage has coincided with a local excavator’s discovery of clay.

Mike Mulligan hello?

Jim Halunen Brush Cutting and Mowing and Cheney Trucking and Materials have been digging a septic pit in the White Horse Beach area of Plymouth, about 10 miles south of Plimoth’s original settlement.  To find the right ”percolation rate” they’ve had to dig deep on this particular lot.  Several feet down, they came upon a nice deposit of clay. We gratefully received a delivery of several yards of this material yesterday:

Gumby Origin Story.

What’s the big dilly you ask?

Well, we love Gumby and Pokey as much as the next guy, but we’re not going to daub our walls with em. For one thing, they’re not found locally.

And their vivid colors might betray their other-worldly origins.

For more than a decade, we’ve been mixing mortar from clay which came from the bottom of Boston Harbor during The Big Dig. It’s called Boston Blue clay, and it’s a medium shade of gray in color, with a slight tinge of blue in places. The mortar made out of this clay seasons to a light gray color. Because the clay is very pure and “plastic”, it needs a fair amount of earth and binder in the mix to be useful as a mortar for our walls and chimneys. Unlike the vivid green and orange of Gumby and Pokey, the overall effect in our houses’ interior is a light gray color. Call it, Pilgrim Humours, if you’re looking for the correct shade at the paint store.

The White Horse Beach clay is much browner in hue, almost ruddy in places, with some flecks of gray.

It's so exfoliating!

It’s also more local and perhaps closer to what might have been used in pilgrim walls as a mortar. The primary sources speak of digging clay out of the side of Town Brook which we think is closer in appearance to the brown and ruddy color than the Boston Blue variety. We also have some anecdotal evidence of deposits of brown-colored clay in earthen basements of houses in downtown Plymouth today.

The overall appearance of the interior of our houses will subtly change over time, as we work more of the new clay into our walls and chimneys. We’ll also need to adapt our mortar recipes to this clay, which feels more silty and “crumbly” than the more dense Boston Harbor clay. We may need more binders like dung and straw, and less earth in the mix.

"Trodding Mortar" anagrams: Grand Dirt Motor and Daring Do Mr Trot!

Come the summer, we’ll be all feet on deck daubing The Francis Cooke House. We’ll use mostly mortar which has been reclaimed from the former house’s walls, but we’ll also be mixing in some of the new clay. It’s an opportunity to experiment with different varieties of clay mortar in the same house. If you’re local, come on in the mortar’s fine!

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

Co-worker Eva Lipton remains in our hearts and thoughts and prayers as we approach Thanksgiving. Team Eva has set up a wonderful series of events and support pages for Eva and her family on Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/pages/Team-EVA/223963567711425?fref=ts

Tags: , , , , , ,
Posted in building materials, maintenance, mortar, The Francis Cooke House | 18 Comments

Athena comes to Plimoth

November 10th, 2012 by Rick McKee

“Sunday, the 4th of February, was very wet and rainy; with the greatest gusts of wind that ever we had, since we came forth…And it caused much daubing of our houses to fall down.”

1621, Mourt’s Relation

 

For millions of people up and down the east coast of the US, nature has asserted itself in a very elemental way these past couple of weeks. Sandy wreaked havoc in NY/NJ and the mid-Atlantic states, and folks are still struggling with its aftermath. A few days ago, a nor’easter some are calling “Athena” blew through with sustained winds and lashing rains. While we are very fortunate to have received only minor damage locally, we think of those less fortunate than us as we place such elemental forces in an historic context.

This is what “daubing of our houses” falling down might have looked like almost 400 years ago:

Justin crawled underneath the panel for scale. "It's wicked cozy", he said.

The post on the right had rotted away to almost nothing, and the wall’s horizontal splints were loosened. While the compromised post was the biggest reason the wall fell, we think it no coincidence that this daubed panel of mortar gave way overnight during the teeth of the storm.

Athena’s northeast gales found many of our weak points:

Pale flocking to Phoenix for the winter.

Dozens of palisade pales and a few old posts met their match during the storm. We’ll stand up and re-use most of the pale but we’ll need to replace several posts in the frame.

Garden fences were not immune to Athena’s fury. Here, John Howland takes stock of an impending repair.

I'm going to need nails, posts, and spearmint gum.

Several pines lost branches in the storm, and a couple of less-healthy specimens came down altogether. Athena knew what she was doing.

Future rick of wood.

Our saw-pit became a leaf repository. Leaf-peeping tours begin at sunrise. Bring your saw.

Is this the beginning of an Andy Goldsworthy project?

Some thatch caps had “hat head” after the storm, but otherwise fared quite well. Phew.

Browbeaten.

So while Athena raged outside our doors all day Thursday…

Rage Against the...Hand tools?

Our plucky co-workers made the most of it and hunkered down…

 

∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞

 

 

Tags: , , ,
Posted in mortar, thatch | 10 Comments

Picked up Pieces…

July 24th, 2012 by Rick McKee

Mingus takes a turn at the wheel.

Dan Shaughnessy, longtime sportswriter for The Boston Globe, periodically writes a column full of random sports nuggets and observations called, Picked Up Pieces. It’s sort of a mental desk-cleanup–a series of pithy vignettes which, taken as a whole, present a larger picture of the local sports and cultural scene. In that spirit, The Riven Word presents its own version of random moments and events which have occupied our figurative desktops this summer:

We left less of each course to the weather knowing the sapwood is going to decay sooner than the heartwood. Of course, the studs in an earthfast building will likely decay before all.

The contrast between the heartwood and the sapwood on these 8-year-old white oak clapboards really stood out the other day. They’re also weathering a different hue of gray than other clapboards in the pilgrim village. Every oak tree’s a little different.

Like some Santa Claus gone horribly wrong, Michael went UP the Fuller House chimney the other morning (below) in order to replace a patch of mortar which had fallen out.

The chimney mortar inevitably washes out on the lee side of the frequent northeast wind.

Here’s an inside look at one of our lofts which is rarely seen by our guests. It’s also one of my favorite parts of our recreated village. The clapboards were once the end of Winslow’s one-room cottage; now they’re facing the interior of his added parlor. This space–narrow, dark, and reeking of woodsmoke–simply puts forth a 17th-century vibe. I think we got this one right.

Yep, that's a breaker box.

 

All of Plimoth Plantation’s guest-facing staff have been particularly stoic and professional this summer. Through heat wave after heat wave, they have patiently and enthusiastically met the varied needs of our guests who come from near and far. And special props to those who toil in canvas and leather for a living– they do the little things (like sweeping out the morning’s tire tracks) which bring our museum to life.

Ready to whet. To whet is no let.

The rain brings the whet. We try to keep up with the need for tool maintenance as the season rolls along. The pilgrim village really is a harsh environment for an edge tool.

Norah and Don weeding maize.

In the summer months, weeding and tending the maize was among the chiefest labors in 1627 Plimoth. Our corn ground is high maintenance in any century, and it takes a dedicated effort on the part of Norah and the interpretive staff to keep it thriving.

Earlier this summer, Mark led a session on mowing hay. The gang was taught some of the fundamentals of mowing and basic scythe maintenance. Such work, along with the cultivation of maize and husbandry of our animals, further emphasize Plimoth’s agricultural beginnings.

Scythe training with a great group of people.

Building and maintaining a period timber-framed house isn’t just sexy layout and joint-cutting. Don’t let em fool ya.

A feat of clay.

Sometimes we need to jump into the muck with both feet to keep a house operational. Here, Michael “kneads” a simple clay mortar with his feet in in order to fix the broken wall panel below:

 

Mark and Alex recently dug up last year’s charcoal from the pit:

Charcoal, not to be confused with bituminous coal.

The coal is screened, bagged and hauled away to storage for use in our village forge. We’ll be making more this September.

We went on a cutting trip to our favorite cranberry bog the other day to get small straight saplings. We needed sways (rods) to hold thatch for some repair work. Here’s what we saw on our way out:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Peter Arenstam is not only responsible for the care and upkeep of a very high maintenance square-rigged icon, The Mayflower II, but he’s also a published children’s book author with a new book on the way: The Mighty Mastiff of The Mayflower debuts at the Town Pier out in front of Mayflower II this Saturday, July 28th from 1-4pm. The event is free and open to all.

A week from Saturday, The Dinghys, a great local band made up of several former pilgrims and featured in an earlier post http://blogs.plimoth.org/rivenword/?p=1637 will be playing at The Tavern at the End of the World in Charlestown, MA on Saturday, August 4th @9pm Come out and support some outstanding local music if you’re in the area.

TEAM EVA–Always in our thoughts and hearts https://www.facebook.com/pages/Team-EVA/223963567711425

Comparison of English Oak (top) and American Red Oak leaves.

Tags: , , ,
Posted in blacksmith, building materials, mortar, oak, Uncategorized | 7 Comments

Straight, no chaser

February 7th, 2012 by Rick McKee

How did we get from here…

…to here…

psssst: Look at the chimney ^^

…in one day?

 

Fixing Bradford’s Chimney

Wednesday, January 25, 2012 broke sunny and mild, at least for January in our neck of the woods. Good friend Pret Woodburn rolled up in his truck, house jacks, saw horses, and expertise in tow. After coffee and catching up, we got busy fixing rafters and a chimney in a pilgrim house that had drifted several feet beyond plumb. Having never repaired a house in this condition before, none of us really knew how the day’s events would unfold.

A pair of jacks beats a full house--

 

Our recreated houses in the pilgrim village do not have foundations. This is historically accurate for the early settlement which our village represents. Posts, studs, and sills are “earthfast” and subject to rot. Occasionally, the differing rates of decay within a house’s earthbound  frame will manifest itself in interesting ways. In the case of  Bradford’s house, the interior chimney posts did not rot away so quickly as the external gable end posts. The house’s heavy, clay-filled chimney began to list in the direction of the failing external posts, pulling every rafter pair in the house frame with it.

 

Posts' prep for precipitous pruning.

The fix? Connect the leaning chimney to the opposite end of the house using straps. Jack up the chimney lintel to take some weight off of the “good” interior chimney posts. Cut away a portion of those posts and pull all of the house’s upper works back to their original plumb. Wicked easy.

From inside the loft, Bradford's leaning chimney feeling the warmth and security of a strapping hug.

We secured the chimney with straps and anchored it by wrapping the straps around a tie beam at the opposite end of the house. Once attached, we could take out the slack and slowly pull both the chimney and all the rafters using a kind of ratchet called a “come-along”.

Pret putting a strain on Bradford's upper works.

Earth was dug out from around the interior chimney posts. The 2 house jacks were set in place. And the roof system was secured above. We could now cut away some of the chimney posts’ bottom.

Using a chain saw, we ended up cutting about 6 inches off the "good" posts.

Once the chimneys’ interior posts were trimmed, Pret slowly lowered each house jack–one at a time, and climbed the ladder to the loft. There he cranked tight the come-along. Each crank seemed to move the entire roof a matter of inches. He did this several times, back and forth, up and down. There is nothing to be gained in rushing this sort of work.

Pret easing off the jack before heading back to the loft to crank again.

We could see the roof moving by marking the plumb line hanging from the chimney top.

Justin checks for progress. The chimney came almost halfway back before lunch.

With each crank of the come-along, we could hear the roof talking to us…it was a pleasant conversation.

Coming along...

The chimney had made about 2 feet of progress within a short time. We were every one of us, amazed.

Michael's favorable progress report...and still before lunch!

By day’s end, the house had come back to within a few inches of plumb. We will secure the fix with applied braces between the principle rafters and the roof purlins.

A House Repaired

You are ready for your closeup, Bradford House.

We were half-giddy from the day’s results. Not only were we working once again with a great friend, but the work itself went so smoothly and seamlessly that it might have been easy to take such a day for granted. We did not. Though Pret would shrug it off, there was a brilliance in both his diagnosis of our problem and its repair. In many ways January 25, 2012 was a pivotal day for our crew and the work we love to do.We had never done anything quite like this before, and our experiences will not be soon forgotten. A world of thanks to our friend Pret for his generosity and his patient counsel.

 

Road trip anyone?

 

See the video! http://youtu.be/zUnevmLJ4Os

Hats off to the talented and gracious Marie Pelletier for her superlative camera work! Remerciements,mon ami.

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in building materials, maintenance, mortar, timber frame | 11 Comments

Cooke House, De-constructed: Part 1

January 30th, 2012 by Rick McKee

 

Justin, Michael, and Andrew say, "Eat your spinach".

Here are some of the guys I work with. We’re a shaggy bunch, we drink a lot of coffee, and we are passionate about our work. We are Plimoth Plantation’s Interpretive Artisans Department, and we are the people who research, build, and maintain all the structures in the 17th Century English (Pilgrim) Village. During the museum’s open season, we interpret traditional carpentry to our guests while role-playing. In the offseason, the work continues, albeit in different clothes. But more about that later. We have stories to tell…Thanks for your time.


January, 2012

Site of the former and future Francis Cooke House.

 

A Fire’s Aftermath…

Our blog begins with an ending: We said good-bye to an old friend last week, The Francis Cooke House. Nothing remains now but a vacant lot. The house’s thatched roof had partially burned in a chimney fire last November. No one was hurt. HUGE props to The Plymouth Fire Department whose excellence prevented what could have been a far more serious event. And although much good work went up in smoke on that windy Saturday, many great memories remain. With a nod to those who conceived and carried out the construction of this house in the mid-1980′s, we began to dismantle a house too damaged to fix.

Plymouth firefighters pulled down the remaining thatch using hooks on long poles.

 

On Tuesday, January 3rd, 2012, we set about the process of de-construction.

First step: Clapboard removal

Justin and Steve patiently and painstakingly take clapboards off Cooke frame.

The cedar clapboards are very thin and very fragile, but they are worth the effort to reclaim, as we have found it difficult to procure cedar trees large enough to rive (split) into boards. Only a couple of structures in our exhibit remain covered with hand-split cedar. The majority of new clapboards are now riven from oak. We will re-use the cedar for spot-repair on some of those older buildings in the pilgrim village.

Second step: Off with the roof

The intensity of the fire left a record on the roof timbers.

Much of Cooke House will be salvaged and re-used in our exhibit.  All of the timber from the roof, for example, will be turned into firewood for our interpretive staff. You may very well be warmed by a fire made from these rafters and poles should you visit us on a brisk spring day.

Justin and Andrew about to drop the last rafter pair.

Third step: Put a hole in the wall

Why use the door when you have a reciprocating saw?

We daub our pilgrim houses with a clay mortar. It’s a traditional mix of clay, earth, and straw in varying proportions.  We knocked out each wall panel and separated the supporting wooden lathe from the mortar. The lathe makes excellent kindling. Almost every bit of Cooke’s mortar can be saved, reconstituted,and used again in the new Cooke House. This is bona fide pilgrim recycling and, perhaps, why Andrew (above) is smiling.

Fourth step: Take apart the frame

Drifting a trenail.

The frame’s bottom (posts, studs, sills) was largely untouched by the fire. We dismantled the joined timbers by using a metal rod to “drift” out the wooden pins called trenails. This freed the tenons from the mortices. Joint by joint, we methodically took apart the pieces and laid them by.Salvaging the frame in this way–as opposed to sawing through the joints–will give us options in the future. It’s good to have options.

This tenon, newly removed from its mortice, hasn't seen the light of day since the Reagan administration.

 

Lessons from below…

A stud's tenon holds fast to a decaying sill.

There are lessons in decay. When English carpenters built structures in the New World–from Maine to Virginia–they were often raised without foundations. Posts and other framing elements were buried in the ground. Earthfast posts and ground sills rot away at ground level, leaving discolored earth, post holes, wooden remnants, and other clues for archaeologists. We depend on such archaeological findings to help inform the design of our new buildings. Cooke’s 30-year-old frame began to decay in a way that might seem familiar to those who study such things.

For a great treatise on the subject by an expert and a friend to Plimoth Plantation, see Emerson W. Baker’s work on earthfast architecture in Maine:  http://beacon.salemstate.edu/~ebaker/earthfast/earthfastpaper.html

And speaking of digging…

Meet Mingus, a great dog.

To be continued…

For more information about the fire and how you can help with the Cooke House reconstruction, please click on the following link:

http://www.plimoth.org/rebuild

Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
Posted in building materials, maintenance, mortar, oak, thatch, The Francis Cooke House, timber frame | 13 Comments

Categories

Archives

Subscribe


 

© 2003-2011 Plimoth Plantation. All rights reserved.

Plimoth Plantation is a not-for-profit 501 (c)3 organization, supported by admissions, grants, members, volunteers, and generous contributors.