Fujimi's 1/72 F1M2 Observation Floatplane
Tells the story that many moons ago in Japan, there was a very serious accident at the Fujimi production plant. While building one of the Ki-36 test shots, a modeler pressed so hard on the fuselage/wing joint that the latter went off flying accross the room and hit one of the mould makers in the head. It's said that while laying half-consciuos on the floor, the mould maker cast a curse on Fujimi for hiring such a reckless individual to carry on the test shots building.
From that moment on, any modeler around the globe who cares enough to build a Fujimi kit, has to face a most enigmatic series of mishaps during the build. And so it seems that what was a sharp looking kit in the box, with finely recessed panel lines and a basic interior with lots of potential for detailing, turns into a Sphynx-faced piece of plastic that unveils a riddle one after the other as you proceed with it.
A few years ago, I received from a friend a partially built F1M2. It was the "1945-1995" series boxing of that most beautiful aircraft designed by Mitsubishi. This friend of mine had detailed the interior in an exquisite way with PE and bits of plastic and metal foil. With most of the building done and almost ready for painting, the kit all of a sudden started to linger in his "Shelf of doom" (Catchphrase taken from Scott van Aken, Modeling Madness' editor). Bored of never finishing the darn thingy, he handed it over to me.
As usual with yours faithful, I've always been attracted to the meanest of aerial jobs: Artillery Spotting and General Reconnaisance / Light Bombing / Observation duties. Why? Well, flying around in hostile terrain in a slow, dragging spotter whiles taking pictures, screaming on the radio and everyone takes a shot at you has to be one of the most unglamorous and courageous thing to do in a war. I find so much beauty in those forgotten, multi-purpose aircraft, so as to be certain that at least 50% of my overall collection are spotters, light bombers and reconnaisance machines.
Back to the F1M, I opened the box to find a nearly finished kit: fuselage, wings, stabilizers and main float already glued together, filled and sanded. So was the engine and its cowling. All I had to do was going over the joints to check any cracking due to taking the box home, masking the cockpit and building the wingtip floats and upper wing struts. With all that set on the workbench, I turned to painting.
Just a short time before receiving the kit, I had seen the "Yamato" movie. It's a 2hrs and a bit more monster overflowing with bloodbaths, long speeches and praises of honor. All in all, a most enjoyable movie!!! While rumagging the decals options in the kit, watching that movie made me choose the airplane based on the Yamato, instead of the ones on the Musashi and Nagato. So taking into consideration date, the late stage of WWII when it served and the bizarre yet elegant look of the F1M, I set to work.
All of the fuselage, wings and stabilizers were handpainted with a Humbrol H-70 Brick Red coat to copycat the japanese Red Brown primer used on the floatplane. The same treatment was given to the cowling and floats. After thourough drying, the camouflage was painted using Tamiya's IJN Dark Green, a most suited colour for the late war DG on the uppersides and Model Master's Sky Type S for the undersides. You might want to argue about it being the correct shade but... A touched up, sea and salt worn out, grease smeared and sun faded gives you enough room to claim you're right about it... And in the end, none of us was there pulling the real thing out of the water.
Once dry, I took a fine sandpaper and started wetsanding most of the surface, taking into account that most of the times, the metal beneath the primer was almost impossible to disclose, at least from photographs. Also, the sanding was done paying attention to the most used or affected areas of the airframe. The whole of the kit was varnished with Revell's Gloos Coat. Some metal chipping, very slightly brushed on, is to be done once it is finished varnishing. Then the decals were put on, since hinomarus, beaching markings and ID numbers were seldom worn out to the instance of actually seeing the primer and paint beneath them: bad quality paint and hue stability are two very different things. Anyhow, there will be a very small amount of weathering as well, just the necessary.
So far, this is how it was going:
I had problems for the IJN Dark Green to dry but in the end it took a nice semigloss finish. I had no problems with most of the decals wich, though a tad thick as usual with japanese manufacturers and fine by me, settled down nicely with the help of Humbrol's DecalFix.
Problem:
The yellow ID bands were a different story, those little bastards did not want to snuggle down and conform to the wing's leading edge. Even worst... they didn`t fit!
Solution:
I used some yellow ID bands from a Tamiya Raiden to cover up the mismatches.
Outcome:
Looks like Heaven's Crap! They're two different sahdes of Yellow and texture does not look right. I should 've painted them... I'll give 'em a touch-up of diluted Yellow with a small brush and make them look all weary and stuff, for God's sake... An yes, that's rice wine once again!
After a few weeks of almost giving up, I took the floatplane out again for a ride and glued the upper wing and cowling to the fuselage. The upper wing needed the struts shortened for they left the wing too high on the fuselage. You actually had to press hard in order to get the center section of the wing to seat straight and even on the fuselage. Remember the bouncing wing tale of the beginning? Yeah...
With that issue out of the way I and while taking the masking off the cockpit, the bulkhead beetween pilot and observer came loose much to my surprise. Oh man, I can't believe it... Putting it back in place risked my friend's finely executed interior but in the end and after a copious dose of superglue and a murderous look so it wouldn't craze and fog, that tiny little piece was firmly put in place.
So this is how it looks right now, seating on its main float and the box's lid in a sunny Saturday morning. Soon it will get its wingtip floats, propeller, beaching trolley, canopies and finishing odds and ends:
Looks as ravenous as hell, isn't it? When one remembers that some IJN pilots came to be aces in this gorgeously fast, nimble and contrapted biplane, you get a degree of respect for those who flew it and Mitsubishi for providing the modeler one of the best looking naval planes in history.
Till our next installment, take care and good luck.
The modeling underdog.
Tells the story that many moons ago in Japan, there was a very serious accident at the Fujimi production plant. While building one of the Ki-36 test shots, a modeler pressed so hard on the fuselage/wing joint that the latter went off flying accross the room and hit one of the mould makers in the head. It's said that while laying half-consciuos on the floor, the mould maker cast a curse on Fujimi for hiring such a reckless individual to carry on the test shots building.
From that moment on, any modeler around the globe who cares enough to build a Fujimi kit, has to face a most enigmatic series of mishaps during the build. And so it seems that what was a sharp looking kit in the box, with finely recessed panel lines and a basic interior with lots of potential for detailing, turns into a Sphynx-faced piece of plastic that unveils a riddle one after the other as you proceed with it.
A few years ago, I received from a friend a partially built F1M2. It was the "1945-1995" series boxing of that most beautiful aircraft designed by Mitsubishi. This friend of mine had detailed the interior in an exquisite way with PE and bits of plastic and metal foil. With most of the building done and almost ready for painting, the kit all of a sudden started to linger in his "Shelf of doom" (Catchphrase taken from Scott van Aken, Modeling Madness' editor). Bored of never finishing the darn thingy, he handed it over to me.
As usual with yours faithful, I've always been attracted to the meanest of aerial jobs: Artillery Spotting and General Reconnaisance / Light Bombing / Observation duties. Why? Well, flying around in hostile terrain in a slow, dragging spotter whiles taking pictures, screaming on the radio and everyone takes a shot at you has to be one of the most unglamorous and courageous thing to do in a war. I find so much beauty in those forgotten, multi-purpose aircraft, so as to be certain that at least 50% of my overall collection are spotters, light bombers and reconnaisance machines.
Back to the F1M, I opened the box to find a nearly finished kit: fuselage, wings, stabilizers and main float already glued together, filled and sanded. So was the engine and its cowling. All I had to do was going over the joints to check any cracking due to taking the box home, masking the cockpit and building the wingtip floats and upper wing struts. With all that set on the workbench, I turned to painting.
Just a short time before receiving the kit, I had seen the "Yamato" movie. It's a 2hrs and a bit more monster overflowing with bloodbaths, long speeches and praises of honor. All in all, a most enjoyable movie!!! While rumagging the decals options in the kit, watching that movie made me choose the airplane based on the Yamato, instead of the ones on the Musashi and Nagato. So taking into consideration date, the late stage of WWII when it served and the bizarre yet elegant look of the F1M, I set to work.
All of the fuselage, wings and stabilizers were handpainted with a Humbrol H-70 Brick Red coat to copycat the japanese Red Brown primer used on the floatplane. The same treatment was given to the cowling and floats. After thourough drying, the camouflage was painted using Tamiya's IJN Dark Green, a most suited colour for the late war DG on the uppersides and Model Master's Sky Type S for the undersides. You might want to argue about it being the correct shade but... A touched up, sea and salt worn out, grease smeared and sun faded gives you enough room to claim you're right about it... And in the end, none of us was there pulling the real thing out of the water.
Once dry, I took a fine sandpaper and started wetsanding most of the surface, taking into account that most of the times, the metal beneath the primer was almost impossible to disclose, at least from photographs. Also, the sanding was done paying attention to the most used or affected areas of the airframe. The whole of the kit was varnished with Revell's Gloos Coat. Some metal chipping, very slightly brushed on, is to be done once it is finished varnishing. Then the decals were put on, since hinomarus, beaching markings and ID numbers were seldom worn out to the instance of actually seeing the primer and paint beneath them: bad quality paint and hue stability are two very different things. Anyhow, there will be a very small amount of weathering as well, just the necessary.
So far, this is how it was going:
I had problems for the IJN Dark Green to dry but in the end it took a nice semigloss finish. I had no problems with most of the decals wich, though a tad thick as usual with japanese manufacturers and fine by me, settled down nicely with the help of Humbrol's DecalFix.
Problem:
The yellow ID bands were a different story, those little bastards did not want to snuggle down and conform to the wing's leading edge. Even worst... they didn`t fit!
Solution:
I used some yellow ID bands from a Tamiya Raiden to cover up the mismatches.
Outcome:
Looks like Heaven's Crap! They're two different sahdes of Yellow and texture does not look right. I should 've painted them... I'll give 'em a touch-up of diluted Yellow with a small brush and make them look all weary and stuff, for God's sake... An yes, that's rice wine once again!
After a few weeks of almost giving up, I took the floatplane out again for a ride and glued the upper wing and cowling to the fuselage. The upper wing needed the struts shortened for they left the wing too high on the fuselage. You actually had to press hard in order to get the center section of the wing to seat straight and even on the fuselage. Remember the bouncing wing tale of the beginning? Yeah...
With that issue out of the way I and while taking the masking off the cockpit, the bulkhead beetween pilot and observer came loose much to my surprise. Oh man, I can't believe it... Putting it back in place risked my friend's finely executed interior but in the end and after a copious dose of superglue and a murderous look so it wouldn't craze and fog, that tiny little piece was firmly put in place.
So this is how it looks right now, seating on its main float and the box's lid in a sunny Saturday morning. Soon it will get its wingtip floats, propeller, beaching trolley, canopies and finishing odds and ends:
Looks as ravenous as hell, isn't it? When one remembers that some IJN pilots came to be aces in this gorgeously fast, nimble and contrapted biplane, you get a degree of respect for those who flew it and Mitsubishi for providing the modeler one of the best looking naval planes in history.
Till our next installment, take care and good luck.
The modeling underdog.
Comments
Martin
por mi medio ingles me parece que tuviste problemas con el amarillo, si me lo explicas en castellano te lo puedo solucionar...
recomendacion numero uno trata de sacar las fotos con una tela gris planchada sin marcas en lo posible o una cartulina erica gris tambien te puede ayudar y no va a distraer la mirada en el fondo la maqueta es genial pero te la come el diario.... te quiero y te respeto sin otro particular te saluda sdruxa