The restored (and massive) Vasa warship
This is the story of a ship. A very old, wooden ship. And as it turns out, a very bad ship.
The beginning starts out sounding like a joke: Sweden was at war with Poland and there was this crazy king…
The time was the early 1600s, and the mad Swedish king wanted to beef up his navy. He ordered the construction of The Vasa – a ship that would be the mightiest war ship of its time. It would be the ship that would turn the tide of the war, bring Poland to its knees and help make up for the 10 ships that just sank in a single storm (oops!). The king of Sweden believed in his plan so fervently that he was willing to spend 1/5 of the nation’s budget on it.
What happened? After 3 years of construction, she left port on her maiden voyage armed to the teeth and itching for a fight. And also kinda tippy. Twenty minutes later, a breeze kicked up. No big deal right? I mean, she’s a sailboat after all. The only problem – the Vasa had a fatal design flaw. Two actually. She was four and a half feet too narrow, and all those cannons made her way too top heavy.
That mild breeze sent her rocking back and forth until she dramatically rolled over, capsized and sank to the bottom of the shipping channel. Eventually she found her resting place amid the 17th century muck at the bottom of a bay.
Very bad for the king. But also, very good for us.
You see, almost everything made of wood from that era disintegrated hundreds of years ago, but the Vasa’s muddy grave helped preserve her virtually intact until a team of archeologists raiser her and began restoration work in 1961. The subsequent renovation is commonly called the world’s largest jigsaw puzzle. What has been reborn is now on display in Stokholm’s popular Vasa Museum.
But the fascinating thing about the display turns out to be the insight into naval warfare, shipbuilding techniques and, most importantly, everyday life in the early 17th century.
We visited the Vasa expecting to learn about an old wooden war ship. But what I will remember with vivid clarity is the skeleton. He was a crew member discovered inside the wreckage. He was still wearing his clothes and all of his front teeth had been knocked out in a fight, or kicked out by a horse. I will remember the lice comb because it meant he probably had lice. I will remember the ratty leather shoes because they would have been wet and cold. I will remember the breezy gun deck, where he would have huddled in a ball and tried to sleep amid sideways sleet. He would have been cold, and hungry, and itchy and miserable.
Suddenly, the story about a ship turned into a story about a person – a regular middle class guy. When you go to a museum, you usually see stuff that belonged to rich people not the wooden spoon belonging to a guy like this. We typically know a good deal about the kings and rulers of the time, but very little about the working schleps.
A detailed recreation of the Vasa’s interior
The preservation of the Vasa means we can imagine this sailor’s terrible missing teeth and we can thank God for good dental care. We can imagine this his sucky, starving existence and feel absolutely grateful for a dry living room and a warm puffy jacket. A 9-5 desk job would feel like heaven to this man.
The Vasa is a story about a big wooden ship, but her story left me feeling exceptionally grateful, and very, very lucky.
Form Over Function – no expense was spared on The Vasa’s ornate carvings
For more photos of the Vasa, visit Married To Adventure’s Facebook page.