The thirtieth anniversary of the king’s ascension was only a year away and he wished to be in Thebes for the arrival of the two granite statues, insisting they be in place before the Jubilee celebrations. Ipi and I had recently returned from my annual respite at Abu Simbel and, when stopping at Aswan, I was relieved to see the polishing of the enthroned statues neared completion.
In all, my life was content and my health excellent for a man of my years. I enjoyed considerable wealth for the king was a very generous patron. I still worshipped my wife, who returned my affection measure-for-measure and the flow of royal commissions, though constant, was no longer over-bearing. My staff had dramatically increased so it was no longer necessary to spent endless hours clambering over building sites in the burning sun as I had when a younger man. I even contemplated writing a compendium on monumental work for the benefit of future royal architects.
My son Rekhmire, who lived in Memphis, was employed as the master architect responsible for Lower Egypt. By tradition, membership in our profession was hereditary, so I was proud that he willingly chose to follow in my footsteps. I marked his passage from apprentice to the ranks of qualified artisans with an elaborately crafted set of instruments in carved ebony and iron, nested in a box of acacia wood inlaid with ivory. With more experience and determination, he could become my successor. Ramesses, who sought out good men, commented favourably on his management of the building of new fortifications at Per-Bastet.
Our eldest daughter had contracted a marriage to a commander of the Royal Guard and they lived in comfortable military quarters at Pi-Ramess with their growing family. Our younger daughter, Nefertiti, had been courted by the eldest son of the Theban provincial governor and nuptial negotiations were concluded. Ramesses and Isetnofret graciously offered to attend the betrothal service in the week after the Sed Festival next year.
Nefertiti had identified the man she wished to wed before he even noticed her existence. My wife, aware of her daughter’s sentiments, arranged seemingly chance meetings during which they hoped to ensnare the innocent lamb. I chose to ignore these machinations though it provided a rare insight into the hopeless plight of men skilfully manoeuvred by crafty women. When I casually asked Ipi if I had been subject to a similar ploy, she looked at me innocently and said she had never engaged in wily artifice to win my heart. I was not convinced, though I did not regret succumbing to her charms.
The king’s fervour for building more monuments lessened considerably after the death of Nefertari. His vitality was still manifest, yet he was a changed man, although the transformation was subtle. One had to know him intimately to discern the differences between the young king and the now mature ruler. Ramesses travelled widely and frequently throughout his kingdom using Pi-Ramess as the royal residence and seat of imperial administration. Every fourth year, he journeyed along the Great Sea coast, visiting vassal states. Periodically, he ventured further north to the capital of the Hittite Kingdom. He relished the hospitality of the royal family with the alliance between the two kingdoms delivering advantages to both. The threat of the combined strength of the Hittite and Egyptian armies made the covetous Mittani wary of attacking either kingdom whilst allowing Ramesses to maintain a lowered level of military preparedness, though he in no way lessened his vigilance of our foreign neighbours. His emissaries paid diligent court to the potentates ruling to the far east of Canaan, an area with a turbulent history riven by military engagements.
He voyaged to the southern limits of the kingdom in Upper Nubia, never tiring of seeing the royal gold mines yield up their treasure. He hunted in the company of his sons and members of the military elite. Wisely, he ensured sensitive political, religious and military offices were held by his sons and, by this device, he subtly tightening his grip on the country and thwarted discord in the spheres of power from whence upheavals in the past germinated. Full well he understood the ambitions of powerful generals!
Ramesses arranged strategic marriages for his daughters with regional governors, high priests in the major temples, military commanders and senior officials within the vizierate and these family alliances established his own informal network of confidants who kept him informed of attitudes in the upper levels of authority.
Apart from the inconclusive excursion against the Hittites at Qadesh, no enemy offered a serious threat to the country after the signing of the treaty. The undisciplined Libyans lacked leadership and our western border forts easily beat off occasional forays by these flea infested desert bandits. The chastened Nubian nobility had learned bitter lessons about aggressive aspirations towards the kingdom and prudently adopted many of our cultural values under the watchful eye of a chain of heavily garrisoned fortresses stretched across the southern desert. There are royal mines on the Sinai Peninsula but this quiet and backward area is sparsely populated by an uncivilised nomadic population who place little demand on the skills of our army. The cordial relationship with the Hittites negated any upheavals in the far north.
Early in his rule Ramesses had expelled a few thousand Ibri, natives of Canaan. Made captive in military adventures, they proved a troublesome people with an insolent rejection of our religion and arrogant complaints about their suffering under pharaoh’s yoke. They worked hard but their whining demands to rest every seventh day to worship their god, Yahweh, proved disruptive. Their strange dietary habits made the provision of food acceptable to them, a burden on the providores in the labour camps. We Egyptians ate everything provided by our gods and were thankful for the bounty of the land and river but the Ibri fussed endlessly about what they could and could not eat. Most people brought to Egypt as war booty, merged into our society effortlessly, as they came from barbarous lands that were harsh, repressive and lacked any vestige of culture, whereas a life in the kingdom made no great demands on them and they were treated justly by their masters.
We long permitted companies of captured Libyans to serve as auxiliary forces in our army. Tuthmosis IV had even built a tomb in the royal necropolis for a companion of the throne, a black Nubian, and today there are many senior servants of the crown, born in uncivilised countries, who have learnt to appreciate the benefits of our way of life.
The Nile rose, spread its bounty and receded as regularly as the ascension of the solar barque, for the gods greatly favoured Ramesses, and his subjects enjoyed abundant harvests. Livestock increased in number, orchards were extended and the people were content. The king reformed the judicial system so his subjects could expect a just resolution of their legal disputes in provincial courts. The few who complained about injustice were readily accommodated in the royal mines.
I met the king whenever he travelled to Thebes and the city was blessed with his presence several times a year. More buildings were added to the Ramesseum and, as its functions widened, he delighted in embellishing his pre-eminent edifice. During one such visit, the king consulted me about changing a part of the mortuary temple into a centre of scholarship. All major temples housed vast repositories of documents in the custody of archival priests and scribes managed large collections of papyri in government offices.
He invited me to dine with him after a lengthy inspection of the mortuary temple. It was in the cooler part of the year, though the nights were still warm. The backdrop of the river flowing past the pavilion erected for our repast was pleasant and allowed the king a moment of tranquillity away from his official obligations. We enjoyed these interludes and, under the influence of many beakers of wine, I observed the changes in my friend.
“What am I to do? You richly embroider my House of a Million Years and it is wondrous. It is as though you have always discerned my innermost thoughts and understand the temple’s significance to me. By means beyond my understanding, you have built the summation of my soul in stone. When I am called to the Second Life, the gods will rejoice that my journey begins from such an auspicious domain.” The moment of satisfaction fled. “Sennefer, I am anguished and my emotions riven every time I return to Thebes, for behind my temple, within the embrace of the brooding hills, she lies, silent and cold in the solitude of her crypt.” He spoke of Nefertari, now in the third year of her immortality.
“Can you not celebrate, within your heart, her joyous re-birth into eternal peace?”
“As always, my dear friend, your counsel is solicitous. I feel my kinship with my heavenly brothers and their blessings are manifold. My children are now more than I can number and many women warm my bed. Queen Isetnofret is dutiful and several of my sons share with me the burdens of ruling. The land is at peace, my people are happy and the country is well managed.”
“You have achieved much in your time and you can take pride in your many accomplishments.”
His mood lifted slightly. “Yes, what you say is correct. I feel a certain satisfaction when sailing past Abu Simbel and see the modest images of myself. The sense of fulfilment is deepened when I look upon the monuments, statutes and stellae you have placed throughout the land and the inscriptions on the walls of buildings in veneration of my name make pleasant reading. I know that when you finally get off your noble behind and move my granite images from Aswan and place them before the pylons in my temple, my gratification will be boundless.”
His lips and eyes carried his smile at the mention of this great project. “I shall be well remembered millennia after my death.” The smile faded and a despondent mask settled upon his face.
“I writhe in loneliness. In the depths of the night, her memory haunts me. I smell her perfume still, feel the caress of her hands upon my body and the sound of her laughter rings in my ears. When I dwell upon her loss, it slows my heart and I struggle to find joy each morning even as the warmth from Re’s great barque falls upon my body. I yearn to be at her side and re-united in eternal love.” His eyes misted over and lines of sadness etched themselves deeply.
“Ramesses, I know not the depth of your sorrow. It grieves me that you are still so heavily burdened with suffering and despair. I did not perceive the intensity of your bereavement as I had hoped your duties, your family and the responsibilities of kingship filled your days and nights. Ipi and I would willingly give more of ourselves if it brought some lessening of your loneliness.”
“Spoken as the true friend you are but your offer, as generous as it is, will not assuage my grief. It is a wound I shall carry to my grave and only then will the barb be withdrawn by her healing hands.” He looked out over the river in contemplation. We sat in silence until his gaze returned to me.
“I have been considering a matter that may bring some little surcease to my misery. Nefertari was very learned, more so than me. She oft spoke of establishing a centre of knowledge before she died but the idea remained stillborn. Our nation has enjoyed a long and magnificent past and, to my sure knowledge, our civilisation is not equalled in the world.”
“I wish to establish, within my temple, a House of Life dedicated to Queen Nefertari. My beloved would have drawn great satisfaction from the creation of such a place because she was of the firm opinion that knowledge outlasts the ephemeral efforts of men whilst equipping a nation with the tools to advance and prosper. I remember something she once said – the history of our kingdom was like a rich carpet, the patterns of which can only be shown by spreading them out. When the carpets are folded up, the patterns are obscured and lost. The rich tapestry of our heritage lies hidden within too many archives. Our accumulated wisdom is to be gathered in this great centre for study by gifted men, secular and sacred, and it will serve as a sanctuary housing the writings of the past now scattered throughout my kingdom.” He finished with a question “What do you think?”
“I think this a very worthy and rewarding enterprise, Master.” I had reason to frequent the repository of the archival priest at Karnak in search of information whilst masons and tomb decorators visited the temple seeking inspiration and guidance in their work. My own profession complained about not having access to texts, plans or commentary on buildings. Knowledge was passed on by word of mouth from Master to apprentice and by virtue of the small collection of papyri each of us tried to assemble in our lifetime.
My own papers would pass to my son but, if he had not chosen to become an architect, who would receive the benefit of this valuable material on my death? I was surprised, when appointed royal architect, to find few technical papers in my predecessor’s office. When I queried him on this matter, he said he wanted his papers to accompany him in the Afterlife and they would be amongst his funerary goods. I doubted if Thoth, the Celestial Architect, had need of any human builder’s skills in strengthening the ramparts around the Field of Reeds.
I responded. “Just before her death, Nefertari enthusiastically discussed this idea with Ipi and I am certain the creation of such a centre would have given her great happiness. Her soul will then have another and more pleasant destination on its visits to this world. Just as your spirit inhabits your statues, hers will dwell within the House of Life and inspire those who serve there.”
“My thoughts exactly. When I visit the new archive, I will feel her presence and receive her warmth and consolation.” Ramesses raised his beaker. “To Nefertari and the perpetuation of her memory. Sennefer, I will instruct Prince Khaemwaset to assemble a group of learned men to prepare a report on how this venture can be brought to fruition. I am sure he will appreciate your assistance. Now, before you become any fatter, when do I see my granite statues in Thebes?”
The king knew of my proposal to create large floating rafts to ship the statues. Imhotep and his colleagues had conducted trials and proved the idea feasible. The vizier issued a requisition for shipments of pine logs from the Levant and the first deliveries had already arrived at Aswan, where the great vessels were being assembled. Calculations showed each raft would need to be about fifty metres square, with a thickness of two metres, to carry the immense weight of each colossus with the equipment and the men who would man these unwieldy vessels.
No vessel of its size and shape had ever been built and there remained a degree of apprehension amongst the watermen about the practicality of the concept, familiar as they were with conventional boats. It was early agreed a ship of traditional design could not be built sufficiently strong to transport such great weights and, as I explained to Imhotep, we had no option other than to build rafts. The prospect of losing one of these statues to the waters of the Nile and the consequence was a thought too horrible to countenance, so much thought was being put into the vessel’s construction.
I told Ramesses we would ship the first statue in about three months. The voyage would take less than a week, barring mishaps, and moving the statue from the raft to the mortuary temple was a task of but a few days. In anticipation of the success of the floating platforms, construction of a new quay to accommodate the oversized vessels and the strengthening of the ramp up to the temple, commenced as soon as the final dimensions of the rafts determined. He said that if I sent a message to Pi-Ramess, he would voyage down to Aswan to watch the entire procession if his duties permitted. I thought his presence would do little to minimise the trepidations of not only the watermen but every living soul involved, myself included.
I foreshadowed this small concern to Ramesses, who laughed. “Do not worry, Lord Architect. You may find me amongst the gangs pulling on the ropes as you warned me this commission might end in failure. If it is successful, then we know the gods smile upon the work. If it fails, then I will know, as will you, the limits of men, machines and the gods’ grace. The high priest will make special offerings and prayers for the success of the movement of my statues, so it will be wise to ensure we give this matter our greatest attention in return for their blessing. I do not want the high priest looking down his nose at me if we fail. The cost in new buildings and lands to regain favour with the gods would empty even my treasury!”
Now that Ramesses had made his commitment to the new centre of learning, he despatched a messenger to Khaemwaset in Memphis who, in turn, sent directives to provincial governors, asking them to return to his office a list of learned men and information about the content of their regional archives. For my part, I studied the plans of the mortuary temple and worked out how the centre could be accommodated within the complex. Once I drew up the changes required and dictated instructions to my scribes, I left for Aswan with Ipi, two assistants and a chest full of architectural tools. Just before we departed, Ipi spoke of the deepening of pride in me she would garner through the success of my efforts. When I demurred and said the whole affair could end in dismal failure, she pronounced that to be impossibility, telling me again I was the world’s greatest architect and kissed me sweetly on my forehead. How could this task fail in the face of such fulsome blandishments?
We left for Aswan on a royal barque, one a little more luxurious than my own river transport. The rarest of woods had been used to panel the cabins, the furniture was of regal quality and the fabrics like gossamer. As our vessel pulled into the centre of the river, we were hailed by another vessel under sail and the additional propulsion provided by a bank of oarsmen. She drew abreast and Prince Merenptah waved to us. Rowers shipped their oars and the vessels were lashed together. The prince leapt on board, took my hand and greeted my wife with warmth. He had grown into a fine looking man, tall and muscular like a younger version of his father and with the same ease of confident bearing. His face was of fair countenance, finely chiselled and surmounted with dark tresses. Ironically, none of Ramesses’ children had inherited his distinctive red hair. He flashed us a ready smile, made an elaborate bow and announced.
“I am commanded by my father to free myself of onerous duties and sail to Aswan in company with the king’s great architect whose name is acclaimed across the realm. I am also commanded to present a trifle to the royal architect as a token of my father’s respect. Further, I am to present his beautiful wife with both a gift and an appropriate greeting from the queen.” With that, he kissed my wife on her cheeks and handed her a small alabaster box. She blushed with joy and perhaps a hint of nervousness as the bearer of the kiss was a possible successor to the king.
Prince Merenptah had served his time in the king’s regiments and now fulfilled the role of his father’s emissary on foreign missions since the retirement of the previous Royal Messenger to Foreign Lands, Lord Amenemipet. Ramesses told me, with evident pride, Merenptah was quick witted, diplomatic and possessed a fine grasp of administrative matters. Weighing heavily in his favour was his love of the hunt and other manly pursuits, attributes he shared with his father.
He begged “Lady Ipi, please open the casket. My mother kept several jewellers in thrall when she sought a gift she hoped you would like.”
My wife had not made the acquaintance of Queen Isetnofret, who rarely ventured from the Delta. This gift was a singular honour for my wife, who opened the casket and gasped with amazement. The queen had given her a diadem of the finest wrought gold worked through with carnelian and faience. It was delicate, exquisite and must have cost a small fortune. Ipi, obviously embarrassed with the quality of the offering, murmured her thanks and made to retreat to the privacy of our quarters, no doubt to try on the circlet. The prince, still smiling, sought to ease her discomfort. “My mother holds you in high regard. My father has oft remarked on your beauty and enchanting personality.” My wife blushed again and left us, happy to have gained the respect of the queen.
Merenptah turned to me. “Your present is a little larger and perhaps not as pretty but my father hopes you will understand the depth of his friendship when you see what he has prepared. He told me you are the one man in the kingdom he trusts completely and I should do my utmost to command your respect and affection. I hope in time I may win such favour. Come, we must go to my cabin to show you what I have brought.”
We boarded his vessel and walked into his deck pavilion, which was spacious and well appointed. In a corner stood a finely crafted cedar chest with panels of ebony inlaid with ivory. With a flourish, he opened its door to reveal a statue, about half a metre in height, of a man in my likeness, kneeling and holding a tablet. I bent down to see the inscription. It read ‘I, Sennefer, Great Architect and friend of Ramesses II, worships Re as he rises and throughout his life until he sets’.
It continued with a recitation of the works I had undertaken and came with an image of the king facing my own. The statue, sculptured from a block of greywacke, was painted in lifelike colours. Such carved images are placed in a recess cut into the façade above a tomb and the intended occupant usually created his own vainglorious message. The inscription finished with a statement ‘The King presented this to his Overseer of Works so eternity would know of his esteem.’ I looked at the prince, who beamed with pleasure. “To my certain knowledge, my father has never presented a statue to another in the kingdom. May I offer my heartfelt thanks for your being his confidant and friend?”
“I am at a loss for words, my prince, as this is an honour I am not worthy to receive. I will convey my thanks to your father when we next meet but this gift overwhelms me.”
“True men are as rare as perfect pearls. Let us take some refreshment as I have many questions about this project of which I know little. A thought - tonight you and your wife must join me at my table. The fare may be indifferent but the wine excellent. We have a few days sailing ahead of us and I insist you be my guests throughout the voyage. I am free to enjoy your company and, on my father’s instructions, I am to learn something of his friend and architecture. The river air clears the cobwebs of too much time spent in too many imperial offices talking to too many officials seeking to cover their behinds. With some luck we may even try our hand at some fishing.” How like his father he was. We spent many hours discussing many subjects and found time to fish. Very early, he told us, when we met privately, we should stop addressing him with his formal title and only use his nomen, Merenptah. By the time we reached Aswan, an informal and relaxed relationship had developed. My wife had been coaxed into easy conversation by his infectious laughter and humorous tales of royal and diplomatic life.
Well before we reached the quarry, the two immense statues could be seen lying on their heavy wooden sleds at the loading basin Nebamun had cut into the river bank. They lay, recumbent giants, one behind the other, amidst vast coils of palm fibre ropes and stacked pottery vessels filled with lubricating slurry.
What was almost as remarkable as the gigantic statues lying as though asleep in the sun, were the two massive rafts floating beside the river bank. When I conceived the idea of the rafts, I held visions of stacks of logs lashed together to form a crude platform. In doing so, I obviously underestimated the skills of the watermen and carpenters employed to build these vessels. As our vessel came to into the quay, Merenptah let out a whistle of surprise, my wife, who had scant knowledge of this part of the project, clapped her hands with glee and I, filled with false modesty, looked passively at the behemoths as they rocked majestically in the riverine current. “You did this?” my wife asked in wonderment.
I replied, a little abashed, that the watermen had something to do with the matter as I merely had an untested idea they had taken from the drawing board to fruition. Forgetting for a moment we stood next to the prince, she embraced me in full sight of the workmen loitering on the docks. Her intimacy caused much whistling and delight from the shore. The prince smiled and clapped me on the back.
“Truly, you are as gifted as my father stated and clearly a highly talented and innovative man. I see before me a miracle, no, two miracles. The gods obviously smile upon you and have blessed you with exceptional ability.”
Whilst I basked in this extravagant praise, a small punt left one of the rafts and made its way to the quay. Imhotep, and his assistant, Menes, alighted, bowed low to the prince and offered their greetings. Introductions were made.
“Imhotep, you have made excellent progress with the construction of these vessels. I expected to see piles of pine logs, heaps of cordage and an army of carpenters slaving in the sun.” He looked at me and decided, due to the presence of the prince and my wife, to show more than a waterman’s customary lack of respect for those who live on the land.
“Your Highness, Royal Overseer of Works, My Lady, we have completed most of the work on the rafts. Lord Sennefer, your idea has proven workable and will forever bring great benefits to riverine transport. We now place our trust in the gods and our modest skills to successfully deliver the vessels and their precious cargo to Thebes.”
Ipi beamed with pleasure at the praise given to her husband. The prince, assuming the mantle of authority, took his eyes off the rafts and turned his attention to Imhotep and Menes.
“Master Imhotep, on behalf of my father, King Ramesses, I extend to you, your artisans and workmen, his thanks for your endeavour. It is his wish to grant a special bonus in gold to you and your team. My scribe will arrange its distribution whilst I am here in Aswan. I am further commanded to advise you a blessing will be engraved at the Temple of Amum at Pi-Ramess in tribute to all those who serve the kingdom on our noble river. Your calling is of great import to the kingdom since you carry the bounty the gods gives to our land and your skills allow the safe passage of the king’s subjects along our waterway. You will now bring further honour to the king in delivering these devotional statues to Thebes.”
The two men, swollen with pride, bowed again and bade permission to leave. The prince stayed Imhotep and requested he join us later in the afternoon with the chief carpenter as he wished for them to explain how they accomplished the construction of the vessels. The waterman accepted the offer with alacrity, no doubt wondering where he could find some clean clothes at such short notice as his present garments were water stained and somewhat grimy. Merenptah, sensing his concern, said they would give no offence if they appeared at the meeting as they were. With an easy familiarity, he assured them he was no stranger to dirt and made a comment about the life of a field officer in the royal army. Much relieved, Imhotep went back to the punt and poled back to the rafts.
Nebamun, who had joined us, received a similar invitation. We made our way to the quarters reserved for us to refresh ourselves. My wife asked if she could retire for the afternoon thus leaving the prince and I free to hold our meeting with the artisans without them suffering the discomfort of talking in the presence of a noblewoman. Merenptah graciously thanked her for her forbearance. We lunched at the river’s edge on the loading quay where a large open pavilion was erected with tables and chairs arranged under the tentage. Steamed Nile perch and roasted gazelle were served with a selection of fruits, nuts and sweet cakes. Emmer beer and wine from pitchers cooled in the river complemented our fare. My assistants, two members of the prince’s retinue, Imhotep, Nebamun and the chief carpenter, Wenamun, completed the luncheon party.
When the artisans arrive, the prince took off his headdress, bade them eat and said he wished to know every detail of their problems and successes so he could relay, to his father, an accurate record of this innovation in vessels. A scribe was summonsed and he made himself comfortable on the ground with papyrus, inks and pens whilst we took our leisure at the table. Despite the linen tentage overhead and a slight breeze, it was a hot afternoon and beakers of beer and wine were passed freely amongst us by servants.
The artisans quickly realised they could talk freely as Merenptah established a rapport by encouraging them to go into fine details concerning the raft’s construction. He asked for clarification when words were used he was not familiar with as watermen frequently talked in an arcane river slang amongst themselves. It was soon apparent he was at ease with the low borne in our society, though he bore the same subtle authority his father evidenced, so the discussion did not degenerate into the sometimes crude humour of the river and carpenter’s shop. Wenamun and Imhotep took turns in describing the steps taken to build the platforms. It was decided to build mats of blocks and then lash the squares into one large interlocked grid. Each log had to be squared with adzes and holes drilled through both ends and along its length. Ropes, threaded through these holes, cross lashed the blocks together. The first tier was completely assembled on land, dragged into the water and moored to the quay. The squares of the second tier were then hauled off the shore, section by section, onto the foundation tier as it floated in the river. Holes were drilled through both layers and long wooden dowel pins driven into the blocks.
At intervals, ropes were substituted for dowel pins and the tiers spliced together. Wenamun related that his carpenters cursed having to work with pine as the timber was tough and coarse fibred. Drills blunted quickly and finally they resorted to burning holes with red hot copper pokers. Imhotep’s choice of timber was vindicated as the resinous pine prevented the raft from becoming water logged and thus heavier. To reduce resistance, carpenters shaped one end to form a blunt bow and sheathed it with sawn planks pegged into the ends of the blocks. The bow plates were then adorned the images of Khnum and Hapi, guardian gods of those who work on the river and wadjet eye decorations, traditional symbols offering protection against a multitude of dangers.
Their shape had been altered by making them slightly longer than originally conceived. Three stern mounted tripods housed long sweeps that helmsmen would use to steer the vessel on its down-river passage. The watermen considered a mast and sails impractical on such a large vessel, instead Imhotep planned to attach two heavy masonry transports to the rafts by ropes to provide extra steerage. Finally, noting the raft’s upper surface was a sticky mass of resin coated blocks, carpenters covered the entire deck with thick sawn cedar planks. The idea of putting bollards around the edges was discarded as Imhotep thought that, if a statue started to slip, it would break the palm fibre ropes, pull out the bollards and impose stresses on the vessel that could cause it to disintegrate.
On this point we disagreed. “There must be no possibility of the statue moving once it is aboard. You lash down masonry blocks, obelisks and statuary on conventional craft, so you are to do the same with these colossi. You must consider the possibility of the raft coming to an abrupt halt should it ground on a sand bank or veer off course and drive into the river bank. If this were to happen, the raft will stop but the weight of the statue will cause it to lurch forward. If not secured by heavy ropes, it will break free. Put bollards around the edges of the rafts and use them as anchor points for securing ropes.”
Imhotep began to object when Merenptah gave him a look that invited no rejoinder. His response was immediate.
“Lord, it shall be done as you instruct.”
Despite this minor difference of opinion, it was clear a wealth of practical experience had been employed in constructing these massive vessels. I queried the possibility of a platform sinking so deeply it might jam on the river bed and become unmoveable once the statue had been dragged on board. This brought a mildly scoffing response from Imhotep. He said one thing all watermen knew was how to manage the problem of displacement caused by cargo. Labourers had dug out a basin adjacent to the new quay deep enough to accommodate the fully laden platform with enough leeway under the vessel to ensure it did not ground. The coffer dam wall, separating the river from the basin, had been broken through, filling it with water. I then asked how they planned to get the platform out of the lagoon and into the river.
“Did you not see the two massive pylons embedded at the end of the quay?” said the carpenter. I had noticed them and thought they might have a religious significance or they were phallic symbols – a favourite subject of coarse riverine humour. “We float the raft in bow first, load the cargo and then attach ropes to two points on its stern. Hauling ropes are wrapped around the two pylons, which have been placed at a point level with the stern, and then taken back towards the shore. As the gangs pull towards the quarry, the raft is hauled stern first out into the river.” he replied with a degree of smugness.
Merenptah, a well seasoned sailor, asked about the chance of the vessel jamming sideways as it was hauled into the river. “The vessel is over sixty metres in length so once the current catches the stern and starts to take it downstream, the vessel will swing against the quay side opposite the flow of the current.”
The waterman answered with more respect than he had shown me. “Master, there are several forces at work here. Firstly, the two barques will be attached to the stern and haul upriver as the raft emerges from the lagoon. This will counter the effects of the current swinging the vessel athwart the basin. Then, the pulling power and agility of the haulers is considerable and vessel should slip like a water fowl from her roost and, for this we can thank the gods, the river is very sluggish at this point and the current weak. We have plenty of men available from the quarry to man the ropes.”
We discussed a number of minor technical matters. The quarry master maintained his silence as his concerns were limited to getting the sleds and their unwieldy cargo onto the rafts. The prince invited his opinions.
“Highness, we have done this many, many times in the past. These statues are the heaviest we have had to handle but we dragged them down from the quarry and we will get them aboard the vessels. I will be of greater assistance at the end of the voyage because that is where I think the royal architect and Master Imhotep will have their work cut out for them.”
The meeting finished with our offering thanks to the artisans. I was tired and still had many matters relating to the loading that required my attention. I politely rebuffed Merenptah’s invitation to dinner, knowing I would be up early the next morning to see theory put into practice and I needed my wits about me. Later in the evening, I had just enough energy to reach my lodgings, eat a hurried meal and kiss my wife goodnight before I fell into a sleep troubled with dreams of rafts sinking and royal displeasure. I could see Ipi wanted to talk about the diadem, my gift and the afternoon with the prince but she knew me well enough to know when conversation was best kept for a more relaxed time.