By the end of this page, Hyuga will be completed. But there’s still more after that.
We’re all the way up to Vol. 71, and this is where the shoe drops. I’ll tell you what I mean when we get to it.
The most prominent item this time is the underside of the control box, which is easy to finish off. Plug in the wire that connects the batteries to the circuit board, then put the shell together, install the batteries, and cover them up. Once again, this is not a battery cover that slides off. It has to be screwed on. Which means every time you remove it to replace the batteries, you’re degrading the attachment point. Eventually, this will have to be taped on. Which is terrible planning. But they’ve done it for three models in a row.
This is not the shoe. It’s still coming.
Good news: the control box works. One step closer to victory.
Next, we have some greebly work to do. These are all tiny attachments for the hull, and each one has to be glued on. If you’ve built any Yamato model, you know these guys. They just LOVE to fly off at the slightest nudge.
Perhaps you can smell the shoe from here.
First, these largish fins go onto the underhang (which I now know to be the aux engine pod). I’m pleasantly surprised to see that they fit solidly and the glue is quite secure. Done.
Second, these little stabilizers go on each side in the midship area. Again, they fit well. Done.
Third, a couple of vertical fins that each fit onto a post. one per side. They need to be taped down while they dry, but this seems like it will stay put. Done.
Here’s the shoe. Four pulse-laser turrets. Two per side, each holding three barrels. These guys are BAD NEWS.
Each of the barrels is a tiny, individual piece that drops into the turret. They have to be glued in. The only practical way to do it is paint the glue on the backside and let it creep into the gaps. It takes a while, and you have to nudge the barrels as the glue is setting to get them properly spaced and parallel.
This is TERRIBLE engineering. Bandai has proven over and over that there’s a much simpler approach. Even previous Hachette models did better. I hate this. But it gets worse.
Now the turrets get glued onto the hull. And not into a socket. Onto those slightly sunken squares along the side. Gluing a flat surface to another flat surface is just asking for trouble. Especially on the perimeter where they can be bumped and knocked off. I’d feel much better about this if they had tabs and notches. But nope. It’s like some designer at Hachette knocked off early and left this for an intern to figure out.
Anyway, no alternative here. I glue them on and tape them down. I know it’s only a matter of time before something pops one of them off. And sure enough, within an hour it happens. And the damn things have to be glued on again.
The next day it happens AGAIN. There’s no way these are going to stay on without stronger measures. So I swallow hard and get out the super glue. They go on and they stay on, but then the curse strikes again. Super glue melts and burns. And OF COURSE it creeps out from under the edges to permanently damage the finish. All because some dummy didn’t look through the many other options for getting these damn guns on.
Oh, also, this is meant to be the display side of the model relative to the stand. My eyes will always be drawn to this screwup. That’s an F minus, Hachette. You got an A in other spots, but you completely blew it here.
As of now, there is no more work to be done on the hull. Vol. 72 gets us into the final lap, which is to finish building the top deck. The first step involves the three tiny (but powerful) magnets you can see at top right.
They each go into a slot on the underside of this large flat panel. It’s metal to plastic, so this is a job for super glue. But it won’t be visible, so it doesn’t matter if it gets sloppy. Wish the same was true of those damn laser turrets.
When that’s done, this piece gets attached to the prow.
We now have a piece about 22 inches in length, longer than almost any Yamato model you could choose.
At right, we have two curious recesses on the left side. This is actually pretty cool…
We’re given deck plates that fit squarely into those recesses (left) and option parts that lift those same pieces up to become blast deflectors (right). They’re snap-fit, so you can choose either config whenever you like. No gluing.
Now it’s time for a big move. Off to the side all this time has been the completed bridge tower, just waiting for its moment. Anyone who built these volumes as they came out weekly in Japan would have had to blow dust off their bridge tower, since it would have been sitting idle for a year or so at this point.
Step one is to insert the cable that will carry power to the bridge’s distributor box, which sends light up through the fibers.
Then, at last, the tower gets attached to the deck. It only takes two screws, but it’s a bigger challenge than you think since there are very few ways to safely grip the tower with all those spindles and fins sticking out of it. One wrong move and you’ll hear a sickening snap. I manage to get it on without hearing that sound, and I’m gratified to see that there’s room for all those fibers to stay relaxed. With the Yamato kit, they got compressed to an alarming degree.
The tower looks good in its final resting place, though there’s a noticeable gap at the front base. Can’t do much about that. And now the front half of the flight deck is done. Or so I thought…
One last thing, the other warning strip sticker gets applied to the elevator door on the starboard side. You get one chance to do it right, and I prevailed.
Vol. 73 gives us the next piece of the flight deck, which we actually just put aside for now. This time, we get an unexpectedly challenging puzzle to solve.
I thought I was all done with fiber optics, but here are the final four. They all go underneath the same deck panel that now holds the bridge tower. When I see what I’m in for, I want to take that tower right back off and leave it off. But I don’t want to go through the attachment part again, so I suck it up. The job here is to attach all four fibers using a completely new method. Because of the tower, I have to hold the deck in midair and do all of this work one-handed.
Left: first, each fiber goes into its requisite hole and pokes out about 5mm.
Right: Second, as you try to hold the fiber in place (good luck) you screw on a round piece that will hold it down. I’m sort of amazed that it works. Up until now, they’ve been held down by brackets.
Left: it’s a struggle, but I manage to get all four fibers secured. But now three of them have to be secured in a second place.
Right: the only way they’ll hold still is to be taped down, and even then they fight like devils to pop free.
In the end, I outlast them and get the securing tab screwed down. I’m glad they weren’t all like this.
Vol. 74, and we’re almost home! We get the final chunk of the flight deck and more parts for the area we’ve been working on. Among them is the very last optic fiber cap. You know that scene in action movies where the hero thinks the villain is dead and turns to walk away, and the villain just inexplicably jumps up for one more round? This feels like that.
We also get a whole bunch of fightercraft, but we’ll put those aside for now. First step is to build a light box.
A colored cap goes over the single LED (paint glue on from the back) and the box goes together with two sockets.
Left: now we have to secure the box to the underside of the same deck plate that holds the bridge. Remember how I cleverly delayed putting things onto the display stand because they would become protrusions and make the work more difficult? The bridge tower is the ultimate protrusion. It really should have gone on after this business was over.
Right: after some trial and error, I discover the safest way to grip this piece is from behind, like a dangerous reptile.
Left: with that grip, I’m able to secure the little light box in place.
Right: now a long cable connects that light box to its closest neighbor. It’s a power relay.
Left: the next (and last) relay cable goes into the second socket. All wiring is now complete. Just need to collect and cap those fibers.
Right: since that’s a 2-handed operation, I have to find some way to safely set down the deck I’ve been holding. After some experimentation, I find that I can wedge it in between my two heavy tape dispensers and it’s properly immobilized without leaning on some damn antenna or other.
Locating the fibers isn’t hard since there are only four, but I have to shove two of them through one hole in the collector and they simply refuse to fit. I’ve faced this situation before; I carefully router it out with an X-acto knife until it’s just wide enough. Then I’ve got them where I want them.
Getting the cap on is the last round of the fight. The cap goes into the light box, and there are NO MORE FIBER OPTICS to deal with. I’ve conquered them ALL.
Left: this is such a feel good moment I have to take a step back and survey the majesty.
Right: the final step is to plug those two relay cables into the power hub in the hull. There are two empty sockets ready to receive them.
This is another operation where I have to hold the piece up and do the work one-handed. They give in without a struggle.
Now the flight deck settles into place and we have capture. I repeat, we have capture.
I do a quick survey and notice that it’s not a perfect fit. There are some gaps here and there. It was the same with Yamato. There are limits to this technology. But I’m satisfied that it’s as good as it can be.
It’s almost an afterthought now, but there are eight Cosmo Tigers and eight Cosmo Pythons to assemble. Each one gets two attachments. It’s like microsurgery, but it goes well enough. The Cosmo Tigers get their orange nacelles on the back. There’s very little contact area, so super glue is required again. A little dab’ll do ya.
At long last, Vol. 75. This gets us to the fully-built behemoth. Just a few more parts…
…and another big honkin’ set of fighters. Eight more Tigers, eight more Pythons, and one Seagull.
Right: the only gluey work this time is simple enough; five clear discs go into five recesses on the back of the flight deck.
Each one lines up with a light that’s already been installed at the stern. The clear discs will transmit it up to the surface.
Since we’re at the opposite end of the runways, we have two more blast deflectors. They work just like the first two, snapping in and out of place at user’s discretion.
Then the rear flight deck plates go together. Like magic.
Finally, a blocky grey piece goes on the underside, I guess because otherwise it would be too plain. Whatever.
The last bits to install are the fighter palettes. They just sit into their cradles with no glue.
We snap in Tigers and Pythons, two per palette, and the flight deck goes on top.
Just look at that amazing beast. It’s a fully-grown Hyuga.
But wait, this series has five more volumes, doesn’t it? Whattaya say we fly through those and then take it out for a test drive?