Confessions Of A Terrible Modelmaker (pt 3)

 In which I finally get this bloody kit finished

Clothes pegs are an essential part of my modelling kit.

 Don't ask me why but I really like wingtip tanks on jet fighters. Obviously that only works on straight-winged aircraft. This might explain why fighters after about the mid-50s don't interest me all that much. 

 There's a few exceptions - I have a soft spot for the Hawker Hunter and the English Electric Lightning - but most modern fighters leave me cold. Too mechanical and not enough beauty.

 Isn't that a weird thing to say about a machine designed for killing? Aircraft buffs will get it, I think. 

Anyway, after a bit of filing and brute force, I managed to jam the wingtip tanks on to the ends of the wings, slipped the colourful little finlets onto the tail and continued slapping bits of paint on when I was feeling artistic. 

 I was hoping I could pass the patchiness off as "Weathering". I was also planning on throwing the box away so nobody could compare the box art to my hamfisted efforts.   

 Now the moment I was dreading. Sticking the canopy on. 

 I had to paint it first. Did I mention that I'm longsighted, shortsighted and quite possibly middlesighted as well? And that I have the fine motor control of a drunken rhino?

  By using the tiniest brush I had - while deploying an old sock to mop away the stray splotches - I ended up with something not-too-rubbish. 

  Much to my amazement the canopy went on first time without me dropping it, accidentally glueing it to the tailfin or smearing glue across 70% of the clear bits. 

 There were a few gaps but in a recurring theme, I was hoping nobody looks too closely.

They aren't gaps.

They're, um, air conditioning vents.

 The instructions had a nice clear diagram showing where all the little aircraft-handling warning labels were supposed to go ("Do not stick head in this bit" and whatnot) and if I'd actually been able to find a sheet with said warning labels on, I might have used them. 

 I'll never know if I accidentally threw that bit away or AZ Models didn't bother including it. Oh well.

  Right from the start I'd wanted to go with the El Salvadorean version of this kit, seeing as I've never, ever seen any other model in for that Air Force.

  Something else I find fascinating -  the smaller air forces from around the world. Places like Finland and Chile end up with all sorts of interesting things and hang on to them long after the Brits and USA have moved on to the newest shiny toys. 

 Back to the decals. A process that was going well until the fin-flashes decided to do that thing where they fold in half and then stick together like atomic welding. After swearing a bit, then swearing some more I trimmed away the knackered bits and dug some leftovers out of the biscuit tin I keep my spares in. 

 I was feeling quite pleased with myself until I remembered that there were some aerials that needed to go on. Tiny, tiny bits of fiddly, fiddly metal with absolutely no guide holes to make the job easier.

 Thanks again for that design element, AZ. 

  One snapped in half, one went ping as I snipped it free and almost went up my nose before vanishing and the last one, the one that had to go on the tailfin, was an absolute bastard to put on. 

 It took some deep breathing exercises and a gigantic blob of Loctite before I got it mounted. 

 I don't know why I bothered. The bloody thing will almost certainly fall off next time I pick up the Pirate and fly it around the kitchen making Neeeaaawww noises  dust it. 

 So here's the finished product. Whaddya think?

 And a close up. 

 To sum up. Frustrating, time-consuming and almost certainly serious modelmakers are looking at my efforts and laughing their bollocks off. 

 But I'm glad I did it.

 That's all folks.