The Raising of the Vasa
As you enter the museum, the ship looms larger than life and remarkably intact. Photo: Anneli Karlsson, the Swedish National Maritime Museums.
Words: Terry Martin
I am always looking for museums that will teach me more about the history of woodcraft, and every time I visit one I am struck by how important wooden artifacts are to human history and how little importance they are given compared to the big-ticket materials such as stone, bronze and ceramics.
Woodcraft is still taken for granted and most people don’t realise how much we owe to our ancestral carpenters, shipbuilders, carvers, turners and many more. But a few years ago in Stockholm, Sweden, I found the best museum a woodworker could ever want to visit: the Vasa Museum. Like a ghost risen from the sea, the Vasa is a precious woodworking time capsule.
The sinking
The story of the sailing ship Vasa is one of the most remarkable I have heard. To read the full story it is best to visit the museum’s website, but briefly: on August 10, 1628, one of the most powerful warships in the world set sail under the eyes of a vast gathering of nobles, foreign dignitaries, and the population of Stockholm. Cannons were fired, flags flew, and the crew proudly set sail. There was little wind, but when a gust did catch the sails the ship heeled so far to port that the water suddenly rushed into the gunports and within a few minutes the ship was on the bottom of the sea, 32 metres below.
The search
This public humiliation for the authorities was profound. How could it happen? An eventual enquiry confirmed that the ship was top-heavy and doomed the moment she began to roll. But this sad tragedy was a blessing for us in modern times because we have inherited an unmatched treasure trove. In 1956, after fragments of the ship were found in Stockholm Harbour, divers searched the murky water. Imagine their excitement when they were first confronted by a wall of oak with rows of open gunports! After more than 320 years underwater, the Vasa was found, intact, upright, and even with one mast still standing.
The raising of the Vasa
With incredible determination, a coalition of government, industry and royalty combined to create what was dubbed ‘Sweden’s Apollo Project’.
Fortuitously, the Swedish king, Gustav VI Adolf, and namesake of the king who commissioned the Vasa, was also an archaeologist by training. His son, Prince Bertil, became the chairman of the foundation established to raise the ship. Between 1957 and 1959, divers dug tunnels under Vasa and pulled massive steel cables through them to suspend the ship in a framework.
Floating pontoons were used to lift the Vasa free of the mud and to move it to shallower water. Around the ship they found thousands of artefacts that had fallen off the ship, and the remains of about ten people. More than a thousand objects were found on board: coins, personal belongings, gun carriages, tools and the bones of some of the people who had been on board when the ship foundered.
On the April 24, 1961, in a ghostly echo of the day the ship sank, thousands of people lined the shores as the Vasa was slowly raised from the water. Over many months the ship was cleaned and preserved, while it took five more years to retrieve the thousands of loose pieces from the seabed.
Archeologists recovered more than 40,000 objects, giving us an unprecedented understanding of what life was like aboard a warship in1628. Remarkably, most of the Vasa’s structure was found and it was possible to rebuild the ship almost in its entirety. In December 1988, Vasa made her final voyage on a pontoon to her new home, and the Vasa Museum was opened by the King in 1990. Since then, millions of visitors from all over the world have seen this remarkable part of Swedish and world history.
The different levels reflect the structure of the ship. Photo: Anneli Karlsson, the Swedish National Maritime Museums.
Seeing the Vasa for the first time
I had read about other wooden ships raised from the sea, such as the Viking ships in Norway, or the 16th century Mary Rose in England, but nothing prepared me for what I saw when I walked into the Vasa Museum. The building was purpose-built around the ship like a nautical cathedral and, as soon as you walk in, there she is, in all her glory. I was taken aback by the sheer size of the ship.
I had always pictured ships from this period as short and stubby, but at 69 metres long and several stories high, the Vasa is an imposing sight. As you walk around the bulging lower hold of the ship there are intriguing glimpses of the superstructure – ‘I wonder what’s up there’, you think - and that is where the design of the museum is so good. Each deck of the Vasa has a corresponding open-walled mezzanine floor, so as you go upstairs to each level, the corresponding level of the ship is fully in view.
The salvaged Vasa gives little hint of how bright the original colours would have been, but the reproductions are amazing. Photo: Terry Martin
The first thing you notice is that the Vasa is truly a floating masterpiece of the carver’s art. Every part of the ship is decorated with classical themes and the detail is still clear after so long under water. Residues of paint have been found on the ship and reproduction carvings on the walls show the original colour scheme. It must have been a remarkable sight.
The whole ship is covered with beautiful carvings. Photo: Anneli Karlsson, the Swedish National Maritime Museums. Photo: Anneli Karlsson.
The sculptures are carved out of oak, pine, or linden, and many of the larger pieces, like the three metre lion figurehead, were made in several parts and fitted together with bolts. Close to 500 sculptures are found on the ship.
The different mezzanine floors contain the artefacts that belonged to the corresponding deck of the ship so, turn your back on the ship and you can explore what was found, look back and there she is, the time-capsule that waited for hundreds of years. And what objects! With 40,000 to choose from, the curators had a daunting task: chests full of belongings, coils of anchor cable, hunting rifles, a gilt brass table clock, and over 4,000 coins, some in the pockets of the clothes on human skeletons – but most of all I had eyes for the woodcraft.
Sweden has always been a wood culture, and sometimes such woodcraft is dismissed as ‘unsophisticated’ (see Wikipedia), but I take exception to that. There is nothing unsophisticated about using a readily available, renewable and fit-for-purpose material.
Some of the objects seem like they were made only recently because the oxygen-free environment of the mud meant there were no bacteria to eat away the wood.
The Masur Birch jars looked like they could be used even now. Photo: Terry Martin
As a woodturner, I was drawn to a set of Masur birch lidded jars that looked like they could be used today. I was easily able to see which wood they were made of because the distinctive grain and colour remained clear. The design is wonderful, the base is wide for stability on a ship, and the body is fat to hold grains, salt or flour. The turner cut a series of incised grooves at regular intervals, something that is fun to do and which gives that sweet illusion of ‘binding’ the wood together. I felt like I knew that turner.
These are perfect examples of a culture dependent on woodcraft. Photo: Anneli Karlsson
There are many spoons, lovely broad-bowled work, sometimes with distinctively carved handles, and staved containers so fresh it defies belief that they could have survived so long underwater.
The tool marks on this bowl are almost as fresh as they day they were made: ‘This is Lars’ bowl, don’t touch!’ Photo: Anneli Karlsson, the Swedish National Maritime Museums.
On one bowl the tool marks were so clear I felt like I could hear the hiss of the shavings as the turner pumped the pedal of his lathe. The owner had carved his mark on the base: ‘This is Lars’ bowl, don’t touch!’ There is something here for all woodworkers – carvers, shipwrights, carpenters, coopers, turners, and more.
Historically, wood has had bad press. We all know about the Stone Age, the Bronze Age, and so on, but I believe there was a Wood Age that began before all of these and that it has paralleled all of the other “ages” and is still with us. The Vasa was from a time when wood was still the dominant material and I urge any woodworking traveller to go to Stockholm and visit the museum. There is so much to do in this wonderful city, but you should dedicate a whole day to this visit. The ship, and all its contents, are a direct link to our woodworking ancestors, wherever they came from. You can stand close to any of the work there, lean in close and almost hear the swish of the plane and smell the shavings.
Terry Martin is a wood artist whose work first appeared in issue 2 of the magazine in 1993. Since then he has written may stories for the magazine. Learn more about Terry Martin at terrymartinwoodartist.com