Craft ship

Build a ship

It’s so easy to make a Ship tinker. You can paint it as you like. Several ships come well in different colors.
Below you will find a ship story, enjoy reading it!

All you need for this is:

  • 2 paper squares (in 2 colors)
  • a pencil

Tinkering instructions for a ship

Fold a ship

  • Place 2 paper squares on top of each other.

Crafting instructions for a paper ship

  • Turn the leaves so that one corner is facing you.

Craft instructions

  • fold the vertical and horizontal center line. Pull the folded edges (also all further) strongly with your finger.

Paper ship

  • Fold the top corner to the center.

Folding a ship

  • Fold a part of the corner back to the top (over the top edge).

Craft ships

  • Fold the top back to the top.

Fold ships

  • Fold the left half over the right half.

Tinkering instruction for a ship

  • Fold the lower right edge roughly along the line drawn ..

Fold paper

  • … up.

Tinkering with paper

  • Fold the edge then back again.

Handicraft instructions for a paper ship

  • Turn the folding.

Build a ship

  • Fold the lower left edge upwards on the same fold line.

Paper ships

  • Fold the edge also back again and open the folding work as in the picture.

Tinkering with ships

  • Fold the paper again so that the dark blue side is now on the outside.

Craft instructions for a ship

  • Paint windows at the end.

Fold ships

  • The ship is finished and ready for its first voyage!

Great tips and tricks for handicrafts!

You can still give the ship a name and write it on the bow.
The more neatly you fold, the better the ship will turn out. Some find it helps to use a ruler to smooth out the folded edges. Try it out!
Since the paper is laid double, it should by no means be too thick. Ready-made folding sheets, which are available for purchase, are best suited for this purpose. Alternatively, plain wrapping paper can be used, as it is also nice and thin. However, the squares should be cut exactly.
If the ship is too far apart at the stern, you can press the folded ship under heavy books for a while. Or you stick a strip of scotch tape between the two halves of the tail.

The ship

" Ahoy! I am Captain Phil and I want to tell you something about seafaring! I … " The boy in the blue and white sailor shirt turned to his grandfather and whispered excitedly. " Or should I say helmsman?"

Grandpa smiled and shook his head. "Helmsman I am because I am at the helm. You are the captain today. Just tell them that."

"Well, then I’ll just go ahead, ok?" Nodding again.

Philip turned around again and raised his voice to the boys on the jetty. "Hey there, you landlubbers! I’m still looking for two sailors for the big trip! Do you want to…" turning to grandpa, "what’s the name of it??"
" Hire."
"Do you want to get hitched?" He stood in the bow of grandpa’s little dinghy. Just now the light rowboat began to rock in the wind again. Philip had to hold on tight. That put him off his guard. The two boys his age stood on the dock with their heads tilted and their eyes squinted.
"The boat has a motor?" exclaimed one.
"Na, it doesn’t have one, you can’t hear anything and otherwise Grandpa Jean wouldn’t need oars," the other said.
That was true. The boat had no engine. The two made long faces. That was a good start. Philip’s grandpa, that is, the helmsman under Captain Phil, scratched his ear and shouted across the water, "The engine is for experienced sailors. You’ve got to learn how to row a boat first." His good-natured voice made them cheer.
"Grandpa Jean!" they shouted and waved.
Grandpa waved back, sat down again on the rowing bench in the middle of the boat and maneuvered the boat with strong strokes to the pier.
Philip moored the boat so his friends could get in.
Marcel made an effort to jump into the boat, but Grandpa stopped him with a loud voice. "I’m going to fall out if you keep bouncing around like this."
Marcel then sat down on the dock, let himself slide into the boat with long legs and immediately wriggled into the seat in the bow before Philipp could hold him. Ramir was the smaller of the two brothers. He looked helplessly at the rocking boat and took a step back onto the dock. Grandpa finally lifted him next to him on the rowing bench and held him until he sat down. Satisfied, Grandpa looked at the crew.
"We are complete, we are ready to go. That is, when the captain says we sail, of course."
The captain looked at the crew with a serious face, then nodded. "Marcel, when I untie the rope, you have to push us off."
Marcel was disgruntled and grumbled without looking up, but he pushed the boat away from the dock so that the bow pointed to the lake.

Grandpa Jean wanted to iron out the small discrepancy at the beginning. He sang a sailor song.

"Fuffzehn man on the dead man’s box,
Ho ho ho and a bottle of rum!
Fuffzehn men wrote the devil on the list,
Booze and devils killed them all! Yes! …"

But soon the little arguments started. Who gets to row, who gets to sit in front, and so on. Grandpa Jean licked his fingertip, raised his finger far high into the sky. The three boys were suddenly silent and watched him spellbound.
"The wind has changed. We’ll have to make a real effort to reach the other shore. Otherwise we drift back and get wet and besides …"
"What?"
"Get wet?"
"Is there rain?"

Grandpa had to hold on to himself to suppress the smile as he looked into three startled faces. Seriously he nodded and said "Yes my dears, that’s the way it is. I have been at sea for thirty years. When the wind blows like this in the South Seas" – he tapped the air with his finger – "when it blows like it does here, then you’re in for trouble. We should get a move on."

They all nodded. Grandpa divided the first rowing team. And into the monotonous patter of the oars he began to narrate.

"Did I ever tell you about my old friend Thor?? He had found statues on a South Sea island, they looked like statues from South America. One evening, after the third coconut liquor, an old islander murmured to him that they were all from a people who came from the sea in the east. Then my old friend Thor put one and one together and became an ethnologist."

"What is an ethnologist?", Phil wanted to know.
"An ethnologist is someone who studies the way of life of indigenous people and studies their culture and …" that’s as far as Grandpa Jean got.
"But it’s not called natives, they’re indigenous people".
"Marcel, thank you, indigenous people – that’s what the ethnologist would say. Finally you’re talking again, nice", grandpa grinned and continued unperturbed: "When you study the natives, it’s tremendously practical, because you can deduct your booze bills as study expenses."
"Tell me more about your friend, please, Grandfather Jean," Ramir begged.

"Where was I? Thor was a daredevil and a serious explorer. So that he could look at the treasures of a museum, he brought the museum director a jam jar of exotic rats in formalin. In return he got the key to the archive and the best desk with leather chair.

And as it happens, no sooner had he found something out, than someone came along and put the kibosh on his research. That’s when Thor folded up the books and left the museum and we thought about what to do next. I told him, Thor listen. Your statues don’t knock anyone’s socks off. Who gives a damn about rocks? If you want to prove that Indians went to the South Seas, you have to build an Indian boat and sail from Indian Territory to Polynesia. If you want to prove that the ancient Egyptians sailed to South America, you have to build an Egyptian boat and sail across the Atlantic Ocean.

Kids, his eyes were shining! And he did it, just like I advised him to do."Now Jean was silent, and he stopped smoking his pipe. Until it was on, no one was allowed to disturb him.

Ramir became restless. "And ..?" Philip nudged him lightly in the side.

When the pipe finally smoked, Jean looked into three faces almost bursting with curiosity. "What’s wrong with you?? Oh, you want to know what he did. So that’s how it was. My friend Thor and his crew went to Peru. That’s in South America. They built a raft out of logs and hemp ropes."

"A raft, not a boat? Why??" the boys wondered.
"Because the old Indians in Peru had rafts, not boats. He wanted to do it just like they did 2000 years ago. The food also had to be like before, fruit, a few eggs, coconuts and a net to fish on the way. Her raft had sails, of course. And a beautiful name, Kon-Tiki."
Marcel asked incredulously, "Did they at least have a cell phone or a navigation system??"
Grandpa laughed harshly and waved it off as he wiped his tears away. "No, neither. The voyage with the Kon-Tiki was in 1947, if I remember correctly. Steve Jobs was not yet born. The only thing they had with them was a movie camera. You had to wind them by hand. And they had a radio, for emergencies. Then they filmed all kinds of things on the way, just like six adventurers do when they are at sea for several weeks. Their documentary film about the expedition won an Oscar."

The shore came into sight. Much too soon, as they all thought. Rain stayed away fortunately. Maybe Grandpa Jean had just made up the rain story? He now sat down at the oars, the three boys on the stern seat.

"After more than a hundred days at sea, Kon-Tiki landed in Polynesia. They traveled seven thousand kilometers with the self-made raft, can you imagine that?? So Marcel, don’t ever say anything against an old rowboat again. You can reach places most people can’t even imagine."

Marcel, usually anything but reticent, just nodded silently and marveled at Jean with wide eyes, as if seeing through him something of a strange world. Of Indians with reddish brown skin stacking coconuts on a big mountain. Then they carried the nuts on a raft. The whole tribe said goodbye to the team. When they left in broad daylight, those who stayed behind danced and sang. The chief roared. A few girls cried. Sailors can only navigate by the sun during the day. At night they guide the stars. Month after month on the high seas, and they don’t know where the wind and current will take them. What an adventure! This trip is exciting and also scary. Only Marcel would never say that out loud, of course.

It seemed, however, that Jean had guessed his thoughts. He was the first to lift him out of the boat onto the jetty in front of the small excursion restaurant. Marcel helped Ramir and together they knotted the rope. Philip was busy with the oars, Jean was the last to get on the jetty.

Then there was no stopping them, they stormed the place. Everyone was allowed to choose their own ice cream. And he had whipped cream to go with it. After three scoops, Ramir complained of stomach ache, so Philipp and Marcel were allowed to share his portion.

Then they looked at the boats moored at the dock. There were small dinghies sloshing next to open motorboats, there was a catamaran splashing against old car tires hanging as pads on the jetty. Some yachts lay almost motionless in the water. Philipp’s grandfather knew everything about the material, the boat classes, how to maintain a boat and how to steer it. And of course, which was the fastest; this question was discussed loudly and at length.

Then in the late afternoon it was time to get back into the boat and leave again.
"Do you have another story about Thor, Grandpa Jean?"
"You can plug your pipe and we’ll start rowing," suggested Philip.
"No, let me go first, you can go after me" – already Marcel had sat down on the rowing bench and grabbed the oars.

Grandpa grinned broadly. "Yes, there’s actually a story you haven’t heard yet. A few years after Thor had sailed through the South Seas, the spirit of adventure seized him again. This time he wanted to cross the Atlantic Ocean. The idea was so daring that only a madman like him could come up with it. Unfortunately I could not go with you, I had caught a mighty swamp fever in Malaysia and slept the whole summer away in the hospital."
"Eeh, sucks," Marcel commented, Ramir nodded and Philip shook his head.
"I’ll have to explain how to protect yourself from mosquitoes when I get a chance, but …" Jean scratched his ear – "that’s another story. What am I saying: that’s at least three other stories! One over the monsoon, one over the Siamese cat and one over … well, you are still too small for that."
Philipp and Marcel snorted disdainfully.
Grandpa remained unmoved. "Let’s stick with my old buddy Thor. But first …" he tapped out the bowl of the pipe, stuffed it and lit it with a match.

Everyone nodded to Jean. Philipp took over from Marcel, who sat with his little brother.

At last he finished, puffed, and continued, "Thor was a resourceful fellow. He had looked at old drawings on papyrus, as one hangs with me in the treasury. He also studied the pyramids in Egypt. Do you actually know that there are pyramids in South America too? Thor wondered if they might be the same people who built the pyramids in Egypt and in America. A single ashlar from the pyramid is this big," he held the pipe between his teeth, and stretched his long arms out to the side to show them its size. "… and he is as heavy as a pallet of bricks. Thousands of such bricks were neatly placed next to and on top of each other. … Hach, you’re probably not too interested in that, never mind. Anyway, Thor figured that people must have gotten from A to B then. A is Egypt and B is Barbados in the Lesser Antilles. Can you follow?"
"Of course", "Yes" and "Mhm" was the unanimous response.

"Getting from A to B many thousands of years ago meant that you needed a boat. Thor and I had of course looked at the old boats on drawings. Boats made of reeds were. The crazy thing is that the boats on Lake Titicaca, which is in Bolivia and Peru, looked exactly like the boats in Africa. Thor wanted a boat like that too. And because there was none to buy, he had to build one himself.
All, to whom Thor told this, said only: ‘Thor you are crazy! You can’t sail across the Atlantic in a reed boat!’ And Thor thought to himself, ‘Well do you have any idea! I’ll prove to you that it can be done.’ Then he found himself a crew, built himself a twelve-meter reed boat and set off from Morocco, off to the west. Guys, do you know how long my boat is??"
"Four meters?", appreciated Philipp.
"Yes, that’s right, it’s a good four meters long." Grandpa smiled broadly. "You can imagine that three rowboats in a row is still damn small when you’re sailing on the Atlantic Ocean. They were on their papyrus boat for almost two months until they happily landed in Barbados. If only I hadn’t had a fever..!" A pause occurred.

Jean abruptly changed the subject, as if wiping away an unwelcome thought, "Oh, we’re almost there. Let’s not keep your mother waiting any longer."
In fact, on the shore stood Marcel and Ramir’s mother, waving excitedly and tapping her watch to show that it was already late.
"Ooch schade! How was the trip on the reed boat?? Will you tell us about?", asked Ramir.
"Yes, next weekend you’ll join us, if grandma doesn’t mind. I have pictures of the boat and I’ll tell you how it was when Thor almost fell into the water."

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