Does My Company Run on Batteries?

Sometimes I look around Philip M Russell Ltd and wonder whether the company actually runs on electricity—or whether it really runs on batteries.

Batteries are everywhere.

They power the cameras used to record science experiments, sailing videos and workshop projects. They run microphones, lighting accessories, electronic test equipment and PASCO scientific sensors. They power drills, saws, garden equipment and portable tools.

Even the quieter parts of the business depend on them. Radio-controlled clocks, remote controls and several pieces of scientific equipment still rely on ordinary alkaline batteries.

Then there is the largest battery system of all: the one helping to run the house.

During the day, our solar panels generate electricity and recharge the household batteries. At night, when the panels are producing nothing, those batteries take over and provide much of the electricity we use.

The cameras have their batteries. The power tools have theirs. The garden equipment has another collection. The scientific equipment has still more.

It sometimes feels as though the whole company is connected by one invisible battery network.

From a Tiny AA Battery to a Whole-House System

The word “battery” covers an enormous range of devices.

At one end is the humble AA alkaline battery in a clock. It may provide a tiny current for a year or more before needing replacement.

At the other end is our household battery bank, storing electricity generated by 26 solar panels and releasing that energy when the house needs it.

Between those extremes are dozens of specialist rechargeable batteries:

• camera battery packs;

• power-tool batteries;

• garden-tool batteries;

• rechargeable AA and AAA cells;

• batteries built into scientific sensors;

• microphone and recording-equipment batteries;

• emergency and backup batteries;

• batteries in laptops, tablets and mobile phones.

Each battery is doing essentially the same job: storing chemical energy and turning it back into electrical energy when required.

However, the way each battery is used is very different.

A clock needs a very small, steady current. A camera recording high-resolution video may demand considerable power. A cordless saw may require a very large current for a short period. A household battery must repeatedly charge and discharge many kilowatt-hours of electricity while communicating with solar inverters and energy-management systems.

There is no single battery that is ideal for every one of these jobs.

Why We Still Use Alkaline Batteries

Rechargeable batteries are usually the greener choice when a device is used frequently. However, alkaline batteries have not disappeared—and there are good reasons for that.

Radio-controlled clocks use very little energy. An alkaline AA battery can work reliably for a long time without needing a charger or any attention.

Some scientific equipment is also designed specifically around the voltage produced by alkaline cells. For example, PASCO manuals for some instruments explicitly specify AA alkaline batteries, while many newer rechargeable PASCO products use lithium-polymer battery packs.

Rechargeable nickel-metal-hydride AA batteries normally provide about 1.2 volts, compared with approximately 1.5 volts from a fresh alkaline cell. Many devices work perfectly well with that difference, but some clocks, sensors and older electronic instruments do not.

That means replacing every disposable battery with a rechargeable one is not always as simple as it sounds.

My approach is to use rechargeable batteries where there is regular, significant demand, while retaining alkaline cells for very low-drain devices where they remain the most practical option.

The important point is that used alkaline batteries should not simply disappear into the general rubbish. UK government guidance says household batteries and battery packs should be taken to appropriate battery collection or recycling points.

Lithium Has Quietly Taken Over the Company

Most of our rechargeable equipment now relies on some form of lithium-based battery.

Lithium-ion batteries have several major advantages. They store a considerable amount of energy for their size and weight, deliver useful levels of power and do not suffer from the severe “memory effect” associated with some older rechargeable technologies.

That makes them ideal for cameras, power tools, garden equipment and portable scientific instruments.

Without lithium batteries, many of the things we now take for granted would be far less convenient.

A battery-powered camera can be carried around a sailing club, mounted on a boat or positioned beside an experiment without requiring a mains cable.

A cordless drill can be taken directly to Champagne, our Thames A-Rater, without running an extension cable across the workshop or towards the river.

Battery garden tools start immediately, avoid petrol fumes and are far quieter than many traditional alternatives.

Our household batteries allow solar electricity generated in the afternoon to be used during the evening and overnight. Instead of exporting all our surplus electricity when the Sun is shining and buying it back later, we can store a substantial proportion of it.

The battery is therefore not merely an emergency backup. It changes when and how we use the electricity generated by the house.

The House Charges by Day and Discharges by Night

Our home energy system has changed the way I think about electricity.

Traditionally, electricity was something that simply arrived through a wire. We turned on an appliance and the electricity was there.

Solar panels and batteries make energy much more visible.

On a bright day, I can see the solar panels powering the house, heating water and recharging the batteries. As evening approaches, solar generation falls. The batteries then begin supplying the house.

During spring, summer and early autumn, we can generate nearly all the electricity we need. The batteries effectively carry daylight into the night.

This also changes our behaviour.

We can choose when to run the dishwasher, washing machine or heat-pump tumble dryer. In summer, it often makes sense to use appliances while solar generation is high. In winter, an overnight time-of-use tariff may make it cheaper to recharge the batteries and run certain appliances when electricity prices are lower.

The battery is not just an object bolted to a wall. It becomes part of the daily management of the house.

Batteries Have Made the Business More Flexible

The same principle applies on a smaller scale throughout the company.

Battery power means equipment can go where it is needed.

When recording an experiment, a camera can be positioned above the bench, beside a measuring instrument or close to a reaction vessel. When photographing wildlife, there is no need for a nearby power supply. When filming from the Whaly safety boat or an A-Rater, batteries make the entire recording system portable.

In the workshop, cordless tools allow us to move quickly between boat repair, cover making, 3D printing, laser work and general maintenance.

That flexibility is easy to overlook.

We notice a battery when it is flat, but rarely appreciate how much freedom it provides while it is working.

The Less Convenient Side of Battery Power

Running so much equipment on batteries creates its own problems.

There are always batteries waiting to be charged. There are charged batteries that need identifying, partly used batteries whose condition is uncertain and older batteries that appear full on the charger but collapse quickly under load.

Camera batteries are particularly noticeable because video recording can be demanding. High-resolution recording, image stabilisation, autofocus, bright displays and wireless connections all consume power. Heat generated by prolonged recording can add further stress.

Power-tool batteries face a different challenge. They may sit unused for days and then suddenly be asked to deliver a very high current.

Garden batteries may spend part of the year in storage before being used heavily during spring and summer.

Household batteries work more predictably, but they experience repeated daily cycling and must be managed by their battery-management system.

A company that uses this many batteries needs to treat them as equipment rather than disposable accessories.

What Are Battery Dendrites?

One of the most interesting—and potentially serious—battery problems is the formation of dendrites.

The word comes from the Greek word for tree. Under certain conditions, metallic lithium can begin to form branching, needle-like structures inside a battery.

During normal charging, lithium ions should move through the electrolyte and settle into the structure of the negative electrode. If charging conditions are unsuitable, lithium can instead plate onto the electrode surface.

Research identifies low-temperature charging, excessive charging rates, overcharging and some system faults as conditions that can encourage lithium plating.

If deposits continue growing, they may develop irregular or dendritic structures. In the worst case, a structure could penetrate the separator between the battery’s electrodes, creating an internal short circuit.

However, an important qualification is needed.

When one of my camera batteries loses capacity, refuses to charge or behaves unpredictably, I cannot look at the outside and confidently say that dendrites caused the failure.

Capacity loss can have many causes:

• chemical ageing;

• prolonged exposure to heat;

• repeated deep discharge;

• storage while fully charged;

• over-discharge during long storage;

• increased internal resistance;

• deterioration of the electrolyte;

• failure of the battery-management electronics;

• physical damage.

Dendrite formation is one possible internal failure mechanism, but it is not the explanation for every failed lithium battery.

Warning Signs That Should Never Be Ignored

Battery ageing is normal. Physical distortion is not.

A battery should be removed from use if it:

• swells or changes shape;

• becomes unusually hot during normal use or charging;

• gives off an unusual smell;

• leaks;

• has damaged or corroded terminals;

• has been crushed, punctured or seriously dropped;

• repeatedly causes charger errors;

• loses power suddenly and unpredictably.

Lithium-ion battery failures can, in rare circumstances, lead to thermal runaway—a self-heating process that can result from internal short circuits, electrical abuse, mechanical damage or excessive heat.

A swollen camera or tool battery should not be forced back into its compartment. Neither should it be dismantled as a home experiment.

It should be isolated from combustible materials and taken through an appropriate battery recycling or specialist disposal route.

How We Try to Look After Our Batteries

No battery lasts forever, but good management can extend its useful life.

Avoid Unnecessary Heat

Heat accelerates many of the chemical processes that age lithium batteries.

I avoid leaving batteries in direct sunlight, in a hot vehicle or beside equipment producing significant heat. Camera batteries used during long recordings are allowed to cool before being recharged.

The same applies to power-tool batteries. A battery that has just powered a demanding saw or drill may already be warm. Connecting it immediately to a rapid charger may add further heat.

Do Not Store Everything Fully Charged

A full battery is convenient, but leaving a lithium battery at maximum charge for months can increase chemical stress.

For long-term camera battery storage, Canon advises keeping batteries in a cool, dry, ventilated place and aiming for approximately 50% charge rather than a full charge. It also recommends checking and recharging batteries periodically to avoid damaging over-discharge.

That does not mean every working battery must always be stopped at exactly 50%. A battery needed for tomorrow’s recording should be charged sufficiently to do the job.

The distinction is between preparing a battery for immediate use and storing it for several months.

Avoid Charging Very Cold Batteries

Cold conditions can make lithium plating more likely because lithium ions move less readily through the cell.

A battery brought in from a cold shed, boat or vehicle should be allowed to reach a suitable temperature before charging. The manufacturer’s specified charging-temperature range should always take priority.

Remove Batteries from Seldom-Used Equipment

Alkaline cells can leak after long periods, potentially destroying contacts and circuit boards.

Rechargeable batteries can also continue to experience a small drain while left in equipment. Canon warns that leaving a battery in an unused camera for a prolonged period can contribute to over-discharge.

Removing batteries from equipment that will not be used for months can prevent an unpleasant surprise later.

Label and Rotate Battery Packs

With several similar camera batteries, it is easy to use the same two repeatedly while others remain untouched.

Numbering the batteries makes it possible to rotate them and identify a pack that is repeatedly underperforming.

A simple label such as “R5C-1”, “R5C-2” or “Workshop Drill-3” can reveal patterns that would otherwise be missed.

Keep a Battery Register

For a business with many battery systems, a simple battery register is surprisingly useful.

It can record:

• equipment name;

• battery type;

• date purchased;

• charger used;

• approximate number of cycles;

• observed running time;

• storage location;

• faults or unusual behaviour;

• date removed from service;

• recycling or disposal route.

This does not need to become complicated. A small spreadsheet or labelled storage system may be enough.

The aim is to stop batteries becoming anonymous objects scattered between drawers, bags, chargers and equipment cases.

The Environmental Contradiction

Batteries are helping us reduce our environmental impact.

Our house batteries make better use of solar generation. Rechargeable tool batteries reduce our use of disposable cells. Battery garden equipment avoids storing and burning petrol. Batteries allow electric boats and other equipment to be charged using electricity generated at home.

Yet batteries also require raw materials, energy-intensive manufacturing and careful end-of-life treatment.

That creates an important contradiction.

Batteries can support a lower-carbon lifestyle, but they are not environmentally free.

The most sustainable battery is not necessarily the one with the newest chemistry. It may be the battery that is correctly sized, responsibly manufactured, properly maintained, used for many years and then recycled through the right system.

Are Better Batteries Finally Arriving?

Researchers and manufacturers are developing several alternatives to conventional lithium-ion batteries.

Sodium-ion batteries are particularly interesting because sodium is abundant and does not require lithium, nickel or cobalt in the same way as many established battery chemistries. In April 2025, CATL announced its Naxtra sodium-ion battery and described it as the first mass-produced sodium-ion battery of its kind.

That does not mean sodium-ion batteries will immediately replace every camera, drill or household battery.

Different applications have different requirements. Cameras need compact, lightweight batteries with high energy density. Power tools need very high power delivery. Home storage places less emphasis on weight but needs long life, safety and competitive cost.

A technology that works well for stationary energy storage may not be the best choice for a camera.

Solid-state batteries are another promising development. Replacing a conventional liquid electrolyte with a solid material could improve safety and may allow the use of higher-energy electrode materials.

However, solid-state batteries still face manufacturing, interface, pressure, durability and cost challenges. Even solid electrolytes do not automatically eliminate every possibility of dendritic growth.

Toyota and Idemitsu have said they are working towards initial commercialisation of all-solid-state vehicle batteries in 2027–28, followed by larger-scale production. As of August 2026, that target is still in the future rather than evidence of widespread availability in everyday equipment.

Flow batteries, lithium-sulphur systems, lithium-air batteries, improved lithium iron phosphate batteries and several other chemistries are also being developed.

The future will probably not be built around one miraculous replacement for lithium-ion. It is more likely to involve several battery chemistries, each matched to a particular task.

What I Would Like from the Next Generation of Batteries

For cameras, I would like batteries that:

• last considerably longer during video recording;

• create less heat;

• retain their capacity for more years;

• report their true condition accurately;

• use standardised formats rather than a different pack for every device;

• can be repaired or recelled safely;

• use materials with lower environmental and social costs.

For power tools and garden equipment, I would like greater compatibility between products. At present, buying a tool often means buying into another proprietary battery and charger system.

For scientific equipment, replaceable battery modules are preferable to equipment being discarded simply because an internal battery has reached the end of its life. PASCO already provides replacement information and tools for the batteries in several of its products, which is a much better approach than treating the entire instrument as disposable.

For household storage, I would like long-lived batteries designed around repairability, modular replacement and straightforward recycling.

Most of all, I would like battery health to become clearer. Too many batteries appear normal until they suddenly fail.

A Battery-Powered Company Needs a Battery Strategy

Perhaps the greatest lesson is that batteries should not be treated as an afterthought.

They are part of the company’s infrastructure.

Without them, cameras stop recording, tools stop working, sensors stop collecting data and solar electricity cannot be carried so effectively into the night.

A sensible battery strategy therefore means:

1. choosing the correct battery for each task;

2. avoiding unnecessary disposable batteries;

3. buying reliable batteries and chargers;

4. storing batteries appropriately;

5. monitoring ageing and unusual behaviour;

6. replacing damaged batteries before they become hazardous;

7. recycling every battery through the correct route;

8. considering battery compatibility before buying new equipment.

Those actions will not create a perfect battery system, but they can reduce waste, expense, disruption and risk.

Conclusion: The Hidden Infrastructure of Modern Life

My company does not literally run on batteries alone.

It runs on ideas, teaching, practical science, photography, engineering, music, boat projects and the willingness to keep learning.

But batteries make a remarkable amount of that work possible.

They carry solar energy from the afternoon into the night. They allow cameras to record away from the studio. They power tools beside the river, sensors on an experiment and equipment around the garden.

The smallest battery may quietly move the hands of a clock. The largest may help power an entire house.

We often think of batteries as accessories. Increasingly, they are infrastructure.

They deserve to be selected carefully, maintained properly and recycled responsibly.

Better alternatives are arriving—but unevenly and for different applications. Until those technologies become widely available, the best approach is not simply to wait for the perfect battery.

It is to make the batteries we already own last longer, use them intelligently and recognise just how much of modern life now depends upon them.

 

Creating Champagne’s Cover: Measuring and Cutting

Making a new cover for Champagne may look like a straightforward sewing project, but the work that happens before the first stitch is just as important as the sewing itself.

A boat cover has to cope with rain, wind, sunlight, dirt, movement and the awkward shape of the boat beneath it. It must be large enough to fit properly without becoming a loose sheet that fills with water or flaps violently in the wind. It must also allow us to reach the fittings we need, secure the cover quickly and remove it without turning every visit to the boat into a wrestling match.

For Champagne, our Thames A-Rater, the cover also needs to protect a long, narrow and unusually shaped racing boat. This makes the measuring and cutting stage a practical engineering project in its own right.

Before we begin stitching, we need to turn a three-dimensional boat into a collection of accurately shaped, flat fabric panels.

Why Champagne Needs a New Cover

The existing cover has already taught us several useful lessons.

It is tight in places, awkward around some of the fittings and has developed holes where the material has been placed under stress. A temporary tarpaulin can keep off some of the weather, but it is not a satisfactory long-term solution.

A loose tarpaulin can flap, collect water and rub against varnished or painted surfaces. It may also allow wind-driven rain underneath. The purpose of making a fitted cover is not simply to improve the appearance of the boat. It is to provide better and more reliable protection.

A good cover should help to protect:

• the cockpit and internal structure;

• wooden and varnished components;

• ropes and fittings;

• control systems;

• exposed deck surfaces;

• equipment stored inside the boat;

• areas where standing water could cause damage.

The cover also needs to be practical. A beautifully fitted cover is of little value if it takes several people and half an hour to put it on.

Beginning with the Shape of the Boat

Champagne does not have the simple rectangular shape of a trailer, garden table or box.

She is long and narrow, with curved sides, changing deck heights, a cockpit, mast supports and numerous fittings. The cover must rise over the centre of the boat to create a tent-like shape so that rainwater can run away rather than forming pools.

This means that the cover cannot simply be made by measuring the maximum length and width and cutting one large rectangle.

The final shape needs to account for:

• the overall length;

• the maximum beam;

• the narrowing bow and stern;

• the height of the central support;

• the cockpit shape;

• the position of the mast and shrouds;

• cleats, sheets and control lines;

• the gunwale and rubbing areas;

• any projecting fittings;

• the points where the cover will be tied down.

The challenge is to decide where the fabric should follow the shape of the boat and where it should bridge over it.

Creating the Tent Shape

A tent-shaped cover needs one or more raised support points.

Without enough height, the centre of the cover will sag. Rainwater will then collect in the low sections. Even a small depression can become a considerable pool during prolonged rainfall.

Water is heavy. A litre of water has a mass of approximately one kilogram. A pool containing 20 litres of rainwater adds about 20 kilograms of load to the cover and its supporting structure.

That weight can:

• stretch the fabric;

• pull on seams;

• distort the cover;

• damage supports;

• push the material against the deck;

• cause the cover to collapse further and collect even more water.

The centre line therefore needs to be high enough to create a reliable slope towards both sides.

The best shape may not be a perfect symmetrical triangle. The bow and stern have different profiles, and the cockpit may require a higher or wider section. We may need several support positions rather than one continuous ridge.

This is one reason why the cover has to be designed on the boat rather than entirely on a table.

Measuring the Boat Properly

The first stage is to take a full set of reference measurements.

These should include the obvious dimensions, such as length and maximum width, but also measurements at regular intervals along the hull.

For example, we can mark positions along Champagne at intervals of 500 mm or one metre and record:

• the width of the boat;

• the height from the gunwale to the proposed ridge line;

• the distance over the top from one side to the other;

• the shape of the deck beneath the cover;

• the position of important fittings;

• the intended lower edge of the cover.

This creates a series of cross-sections.

Instead of thinking about the boat as one complicated shape, we can think of it as a sequence of smaller shapes that gradually change from bow to stern.

It is similar to taking slices through a three-dimensional object. Each slice gives us information about how the fabric will need to change.

Measuring Over the Shape, Not Through It

One easy mistake is to measure straight-line distances when the fabric actually needs to travel over a curved surface.

For example, the horizontal width of the boat is not necessarily the same as the amount of fabric needed to pass from one side, over the raised ridge, to the other side.

A tape measure can be laid over the proposed shape of the cover. This gives a more realistic measurement of the required fabric length.

We must also decide how far down the sides the cover will extend.

Should it finish just below the gunwale?

Should it cover more of the hull?

Will a deeper cover offer better protection, or will it make the cover harder to fit and more vulnerable to wind?

These decisions change the size and shape of every panel.

Using Temporary Templates

Fabric is expensive, and mistakes made during cutting cannot always be corrected.

Before cutting the final material, it makes sense to create a temporary pattern.

Possible pattern materials include:

• inexpensive plastic sheeting;

• old fabric;

• decorators’ dust sheets;

• paper or card for smaller sections;

• lightweight tarpaulin;

• pattern-making material.

A temporary pattern allows us to test the shape directly on Champagne.

It can be pinned, clipped or taped into place. Excess material can be folded away, while tight sections can be marked and adjusted.

This stage can reveal problems that are difficult to predict from measurements alone.

For example:

• a panel may pull diagonally around a fitting;

• the ridge may be too low;

• the bow section may need a dart or shaped seam;

• the cover may be difficult to remove over a projecting component;

• a tie-down point may sit in the wrong place;

• a seam may lie directly over a sharp or heavily loaded area.

A pattern is not wasted effort. It is a cheap prototype.

Deciding Where the Seams Should Go

The position of the seams is one of the most important design decisions.

Seams are necessary because the fabric roll may not be wide enough to cover the whole boat, and because shaped panels fit better than one large flat sheet. However, every seam is also a potential weak point and a possible route for water.

A seam should ideally:

• follow a logical line in the cover;

• avoid low points where water may collect;

• avoid sharp corners and fittings;

• be easy to sew;

• distribute tension evenly;

• allow the panels to be cut efficiently from the fabric;

• be accessible for future inspection and repair.

A central ridge seam may appear logical, but it would also sit at the highest and most exposed point. Rainwater would run away from it, which is helpful, but the seam may experience considerable tension.

Alternatively, the cover could use a wide central panel with seams positioned partway down the slopes. This might reduce stress along the ridge, but it could introduce more complicated panel shapes.

There is rarely one perfect answer. The design is a compromise between fit, waterproofing, strength, ease of manufacture and efficient use of material.

Planning the Fabric Panels

Once the seam positions are chosen, the cover can be divided into individual panels.

These might include:

• a central top panel;

• port and starboard side panels;

• a shaped bow panel;

• a stern section;

• flaps around the mast or support structure;

• reinforcement patches;

• protective sections around high-wear areas.

Each panel needs to be labelled clearly.

It is surprisingly easy to cut two panels that appear similar but are actually mirror images. Marking “port”, “starboard”, “bow”, “stern”, “inside” and “outside” can prevent confusion later.

Reference marks should also be added to show where panels align.

These are sometimes called registration marks or notches. When two long curved edges are being joined, alignment marks help ensure that the panels are sewn together in the correct position rather than gradually drifting out of alignment.

Remembering the Seam Allowance

The pattern represents the finished shape of the cover, but additional fabric is required wherever two panels will be joined.

This extra material is the seam allowance.

If we cut precisely along the finished seam line without adding an allowance, the completed cover will be smaller than planned.

The amount needed depends on the type of seam and the method of waterproofing. A simple seam may require less material than a folded, overlapping or reinforced seam.

The important point is consistency.

Every pattern piece should show:

• the finished seam line;

• the cutting line;

• the seam allowance;

• the direction of the fabric;

• the location of reinforcement;

• any fold lines or hems.

It is much safer to mark these before cutting rather than trying to remember them afterwards.

Choosing the Direction of the Fabric

Some fabrics behave differently depending on the direction in which they are cut.

They may stretch more across the roll than along it. The surface coating may also have a preferred direction, and printed or woven patterns may need to align.

The direction of greatest strength should normally be considered when positioning the panels.

Long sections of the cover may be under tension from bow to stern, while the tent shape creates tension across the boat. We need to consider both.

Efficient use of the fabric is important, but saving a small amount of material is not worthwhile if it produces a cover that stretches badly or places weak directions across heavily loaded sections.

Where Reinforcement Will Be Needed

A cover rarely wears evenly.

Some areas experience much more stress than others. These high-wear locations should be identified before the main panels are cut.

Likely reinforcement points include:

• the bow;

• the stern;

• the top of the ridge;

• corners;

• tie-down points;

• areas around cleats;

• positions where the cover passes over fittings;

• mast openings;

• places where support poles touch the cover;

• sections that may rub against the gunwale.

Reinforcement does not necessarily mean adding a very thick or rigid patch. A patch that is too stiff can transfer stress to its edges and create a new wear point.

The reinforcement should spread the load gradually.

Rounded patches are often preferable to patches with sharp corners because sharp corners can concentrate stress. The reinforcing material should also be compatible with the main cover fabric.

Tie-Down Points and Wind Loads

The cover has to remain secure in strong winds.

This does not simply mean adding as many ropes as possible. Poorly positioned tie-downs can distort the cover, create deep folds and place excessive stress on individual points.

The tie-down system should hold the cover down while maintaining its intended shape.

Possible approaches include:

• webbing straps;

• reinforced eyelets;

• buckles;

• shock cord;

• rope loops;

• straps passing beneath the hull;

• attachment to suitable trailer or cradle points.

Elastic systems can accommodate movement, but too much elasticity may allow the cover to flap. Rigid straps hold more firmly, but they must not be overtightened.

Every attachment point must be reinforced because a small eyelet in unsupported fabric can tear out surprisingly quickly.

We also need to consider whether the cover will remain on the boat during transport. A cover designed for storage is not automatically suitable as a towing cover. The wind loads during road travel are much greater.

For Champagne, the immediate priority is a secure storage cover rather than assuming it can be used at road speeds.

Planning Around the Mast and Fittings

A boat cover is often complicated by the things that pass through it.

If the mast remains stepped, the cover may need a collar, slit or shaped opening. This area must close sufficiently well to prevent large quantities of rain entering.

Possible solutions include:

• an overlapping flap;

• a zipped opening;

• hook-and-loop fastening;

• a laced section;

• a shaped collar;

• a separate mast boot.

The opening must also be easy to use. There is little benefit in creating a perfectly sealed system that takes twenty minutes to assemble.

The cover may also need to fit around shrouds, forestays, control lines or support frames.

Every opening is another potential wear point, so these areas need careful shaping and reinforcement.

Will the Seams Be Waterproof?

Waterproof fabric does not automatically produce a waterproof cover.

Needles create holes, and seams can allow water to pass through. The type of thread, stitch length and seam construction all affect water resistance.

Possible waterproofing methods include:

• using water-resistant thread;

• folded or overlapping seams;

• seam-sealing tape;

• liquid seam sealer;

• waterproofing compound;

• protective flaps over vulnerable seams.

The cover may not need to be completely watertight in the same way as a dry bag. Some ventilation is desirable because trapped moisture can encourage condensation and mould.

The real goal is controlled protection: keeping most rain out while allowing the boat to breathe.

Ventilation Matters Too

A cover that traps damp air can create its own problems.

Moisture may already be present inside the boat when the cover is fitted. Temperature changes can also produce condensation underneath the fabric.

Ventilation can be created using:

• covered vents;

• raised sections;

• gaps beneath the lower edge;

• breathable fabric;

• vented support caps.

The vents must be positioned so that they do not become easy entry points for rain.

This is another engineering compromise. We want airflow without creating leaks.

Marking and Cutting the Final Material

Once the prototype has been fitted and corrected, the pattern can be transferred to the final cover material.

The fabric should be laid on a large, clean and flat surface. This may be easier said than done when working with panels several metres long.

Before making the first cut, we need to check:

• the orientation of the fabric;

• which side faces outward;

• the position of every panel;

• whether mirror-image panels are correct;

• all seam allowances;

• all hems;

• reinforcement locations;

• fastening positions;

• registration marks;

• the total number of pieces.

A useful rule is to measure twice, inspect once more and cut only when completely satisfied.

Cutting tools also matter. Depending on the material, we might use sharp scissors, a rotary cutter, a hot knife or another suitable tool.

Some synthetic fabrics can fray at the edges. Heat cutting may seal the edge, although it must be done carefully and with suitable ventilation and fire precautions.

Making the Best Use of the Material

Good panel planning can reduce waste considerably.

The pattern pieces should be arranged on the fabric before any cutting begins. Smaller reinforcement patches may fit between larger curved panels.

However, fabric economy should not overrule strength or correct grain direction.

Offcuts should also be saved.

They can be useful for:

• testing stitches;

• adjusting sewing-machine tension;

• practising seam construction;

• testing waterproofing products;

• making reinforcement patches;

• carrying out future repairs.

A few apparently insignificant offcuts may become very valuable once the cover is in use.

Testing Before Sewing the Whole Cover

Before committing to several metres of stitching, it is sensible to make test seams.

The tests should use the actual cover material, thread and reinforcement layers.

We can then examine:

• stitch quality;

• thread tension;

• skipped stitches;

• puckering;

• needle size;

• how easily the material feeds;

• seam strength;

• water resistance;

• the effect of multiple layers.

This may reveal that the original seam design is too bulky or that the sewing machine struggles at reinforced corners.

Finding this out on a test strip is much better than discovering it halfway along the main ridge seam.

What We Have Learned Before Stitching Begins

The main lesson is that sewing is only one part of making a boat cover.

The project combines:

• measurement;

• geometry;

• material science;

• pattern making;

• prototyping;

• load distribution;

• waterproofing;

• practical design;

• risk reduction.

We have also learned that the current cover is a valuable source of information. Its damaged areas show us where the greatest stresses occur. Its awkward sections reveal where more space or a different fastening system is required.

Rather than simply copying the old cover, we can use it as a prototype that has already completed several years of real-world testing.

Accepting That the First Design May Need Adjustment

Even with careful measurements and a full-size pattern, the finished cover may need some modification.

Boats are difficult objects to cover. Fabric moves, stretches and behaves differently once several long panels are joined together.

The sensible aim is not absolute perfection on the first attempt. It is to create a cover that is strong, practical, repairable and significantly better than the existing solution.

We can also design the cover with future alteration in mind.

For example, extra allowance in selected areas can make it easier to adjust the fit. Replaceable reinforcement pads can be added at rubbing points. Straps can be repositioned if the original tie-down system proves unsuitable.

A Practical Engineering Project

Creating Champagne’s cover is another example of how owning and restoring an older racing boat involves a wide range of skills.

The project begins with a simple requirement: keep the boat dry and protected.

That requirement quickly develops into questions about geometry, forces, materials, weather, water flow, abrasion, stitching and ease of use.

It is a reminder that practical engineering is rarely about solving one isolated problem. Every decision affects something else.

A tighter cover may flap less but be harder to fit.

A deeper cover may protect more of the hull but catch more wind.

A heavily reinforced patch may resist wear but create stiffness.

A completely sealed cover may exclude rain but trap condensation.

The best design will balance all these competing needs.

Conclusion: The Cut Determines the Cover

Once the fabric has been cut, many of the major decisions have already been made.

The fit, seam positions, reinforcement areas and overall shape are largely determined before the sewing machine begins its work.

That is why measuring and cutting deserve time and care.

For Champagne, this stage is about more than producing pieces of fabric. It is about understanding the shape of the boat, predicting where the cover will be stressed and learning from the weaknesses of the old design.

The next stage will be to turn the individual panels into a complete cover through careful stitching, reinforcement and fitting.

For now, the challenge is to make every measurement, mark and cut count.

#BoatRestoration #ThamesARater #ChampagneARater #BoatCover #MarineEngineering #PracticalEngineering #SailingProjects #BoatMaintenance #PatternMaking #SewingProject #MarineFabric #WorkshopSkills #MakingAndRepairing #PhilipMRussellLtd

What Can Three Manuals Do That Two Manuals Cannot?

 

Learning New Skills on the OAX 1000 Pergamon

What Can Three Manuals Do That Two Manuals Cannot?

At first glance, the difference between a two-manual organ and a three-manual organ appears quite simple: one has two keyboards and the other has three.

In practice, the difference is much more significant.

The third manual does not merely provide another row of notes. It creates another independent musical workspace. It allows a player to move instantly between contrasting sounds, separate the different parts of an arrangement and perform music that would otherwise require compromises, complicated switching or carefully positioned keyboard splits.

The WERSI OAX 1000 Pergamon has three 76-note manuals, described as the upper, lower and solo manuals, together with a 25-note pedalboard. Each manual responds to velocity and channel aftertouch, while sounds can be assigned to their own playing areas across the keyboards.

However, even those impressive specifications do not fully explain what the instrument can do.

Each physical keyboard can potentially be divided into two or three separate playing areas. This means that three manuals can become six, seven, eight or even nine virtual keyboards, with the pedals providing another independent musical part.

The challenge is no longer finding enough sounds.

The real challenge is learning how to control them.

A Third Manual Is Not Simply “More Keyboard”

It is tempting to imagine that a three-manual organ is simply a larger version of a two-manual instrument.

That is rather like saying that an orchestra is simply a louder string quartet.

A third manual changes how an arrangement can be organised. Instead of constantly changing registrations or squeezing several musical roles onto the same keyboard, each manual can be given a distinct purpose.

For example:

• The lower manual can provide accompaniment, rhythm or sustained harmony.

• The middle manual can carry strings, brass, choir or a secondary melody.

• The upper solo manual can provide the main melody or featured instrument.

• The pedals can supply bass notes, orchestral basses or traditional organ pedal tones.

The hands can move between these musical roles immediately. There is no need to stop playing, search through menus or wait for a sound to change.

That physical separation is important. It helps the player think like an arranger rather than simply like a keyboard player.

Could a Two-Manual Organ Do the Same Thing?

In theory, a modern two-manual organ can imitate many three-manual arrangements.

The keyboards can be split. Sounds can be layered. Registration changes can be programmed into presets. Footswitches can be used to change sounds, and multiple voices can be assigned to different areas of each keyboard.

Therefore, it would be misleading to say that every three-manual arrangement is completely impossible on a two-manual instrument.

The real difference is accessibility.

On a two-manual organ, several parts may have to share one keyboard. A player might place accompaniment on the left side and a second melody on the right. That works, but it limits movement. Crossing the split point accidentally can trigger the wrong sound. The player must also remember which sound occupies each area.

A third manual removes many of those compromises.

It gives a complete physical keyboard to another musical role. That makes it possible to move between sounds more naturally, sustain one musical texture while playing another, and create more complex arrangements without making the performance unnecessarily difficult.

The benefit is not simply additional capacity. It is greater musical freedom.

From Three Keyboards to a Small Orchestra

The Pergamon’s Profi mode allows multiple timbres to be distributed across the manuals, while individual playing areas can be defined for different sounds. The system can therefore create complex combinations rather than limiting each manual to a single voice.

Imagine dividing the instrument as follows.

Upper or Solo Manual

• Left section: French horn

• Middle section: solo violin

• Right section: flute or piccolo

Middle or Great Manual

• Left section: low strings

• Middle section: string ensemble

• Right section: choir men & choir women

Lower or Accompaniment Manual

• Left section: orchestra

• Middle section: electric piano

• Right section: brass chords

Pedals

• Acoustic bass, orchestral bass or organ pedal tones

This is an extreme example, and it would be easy to create an arrangement that was far too complicated to play. Nevertheless, it demonstrates what is possible.

The instrument is no longer behaving like one keyboard with several sounds. It is behaving more like a collection of musical sections arranged around the performer.

The Importance of Giving Each Manual a Job

One of the first skills I am developing is learning to give each manual a clearly defined purpose.

Without a plan, it is easy to select impressive sounds simply because they are available. The result may be loud and dramatic, but it may not be musical.

A better approach is to begin with the arrangement.

Ask four questions:

1. What is carrying the melody?

2. What is supporting the harmony?

3. What is creating movement or rhythm?

4. What is providing the bass?

Once those roles are clear, sounds can be selected for a reason.

A simple arrangement might use:

• Piano accompaniment on the lower manual

• Warm strings on the middle manual

• Saxophone on the solo manual

• Acoustic bass on the pedals

A traditional organ arrangement might use:

• Solo reed on the upper manual

• Great organ registration on the middle manual

• Soft Choir registration on the lower manual

• Solo reed on the upper manual

• Principal and bass stops on the pedals

A cinematic arrangement might use:

• Pulsing low strings on the lower manual

• Choir and orchestral strings on the middle manual

• French horn or solo cello on the upper manual

• Double basses and low brass on the pedals

In each case, the sounds are chosen because they perform a specific musical function.

Practical Example One: A Cinematic Film Arrangement

Film music is one of the areas where three manuals become particularly valuable.

Suppose I want to create music for a scene that begins quietly, develops tension and then reaches a dramatic conclusion.

The lower manual could begin with a soft piano pattern. The middle manual could hold sustained strings. The solo manual could introduce a French horn melody.

The pedals might initially remain silent.

As the scene develops, low pedal notes could be added. The strings could become louder, and a choir layer could gradually enter. The solo line might then change from French horn to full brass.

With careful programming, much of this development could take place without breaking the performance.

The arrangement might progress like this:

Opening

• Lower manual: soft piano

• Middle manual: gentle strings

• Solo manual: distant French horn

• Pedals: silent

Building Tension

• Lower manual: piano with low rhythmic pulse

• Middle manual: strings and subtle choir

• Solo manual: stronger horn melody

• Pedals: low orchestral bass

Climax

• Lower manual: percussion-supported orchestral rhythm

• Middle manual: full strings and choir

• Solo manual: brass or powerful lead sound

• Pedals: low brass and double basses

The third manual allows the melody to remain separate from both the accompaniment and the developing orchestral texture.

Practical Example Two: Traditional Theatre Organ Playing

A theatre organ arrangement requires quick changes of colour.

A melody might begin on a bright flute registration, move to strings, then switch to a powerful reed or brass sound. Meanwhile, the accompaniment must continue smoothly.

With three manuals, one registration can be prepared on each keyboard.

For example:

• Lower manual: rhythmic accompaniment

• Middle manual: warm strings and orchestral voices

• Upper manual: bright solo registration

• Pedals: bass foundation

The melody can move from one manual to another without interrupting the flow of the music.

This is very different from pressing a button to replace one sound with another. Moving physically to another manual feels immediate and expressive. The original sound also remains available should it be needed again a few bars later.

Practical Example Three: Big-Band Music

A big-band arrangement could use the lower manual for piano and rhythm guitar, the middle manual for saxophone harmonies and the upper manual for trumpet or trombone solos.

Splitting the middle manual would make it possible to place baritone and tenor saxophones in the lower range while using alto saxophones in the upper range.

The pedals could provide an acoustic walking bass.

This creates a performance in which the player is not simply playing a saxophone sound over an automatic backing. The player is actively controlling several sections of the band.

That is much more demanding, but it is also much more creative.

Practical Example Four: Electronic and Synthesised Music

Three manuals are equally useful for modern electronic music.

The lower manual might operate a bass sequence or deep synthesiser pad. The middle manual could contain evolving textures and rhythmic sounds. The solo manual could provide a lead synthesiser.

Splits could add sound effects, sampled voices or short musical phrases at the ends of the keyboards.

The Pergamon also includes an integrated VST 3 host, with support for multiple VST instruments and effects. This creates opportunities to combine the OAX sounds with additional software instruments and store different VST configurations.

For my own creative work, this creates an interesting bridge between the organ and the digital audio workstation.

The organ can become the performance centre, while the DAW remains the place where the music is recorded, edited, mixed and synchronised with film.

The Pedals Add Another Musical Dimension

It is easy to become so interested in the three manuals that the pedalboard is overlooked.

However, the pedals are not merely a convenient way of producing occasional bass notes. They create another independent musical line.

Learning to play pedals properly requires coordination between both hands, both feet and the eyes. At first, even a simple pedal line can feel surprisingly difficult.

The temptation is to look down continually.

The longer-term goal is to develop a sense of where the notes are, just as a pianist learns to find notes without watching every movement of the hands.

A practical progression might be:

• Begin with the root note at the start of each chord.

• Add one pedal note per bar.

• Practise alternating between two neighbouring notes.

• Introduce simple root-and-fifth patterns.

• Play a short walking bass.

• Develop independent melodic pedal parts.

Pedal playing is one of those skills that initially appears to slow everything down. Eventually, it can make an arrangement sound more complete and more confidently controlled.

Splitting a Keyboard: Powerful but Potentially Confusing

Keyboard splits are one of the most powerful features of the OAX system.

The official OAX documentation explains that a split point can divide a manual into separate areas, with different selectors and registrations placed on each side. Individual sounds can also be assigned their own playing ranges.

A lower manual might contain bass or accompaniment chords on the left and piano on the right.

A solo manual might contain a cello in its lower register, violin in the centre and flute at the top.

However, splits must be designed around the music.

A badly positioned split point can make an arrangement almost unplayable. A melody may cross into the wrong sound, or a chord may straddle two zones.

The solution is to study the range of each musical part before selecting the split points.

I need to ask:

• What is the lowest note in the melody?

• What is the highest note in the accompaniment?

• Will either hand cross the split point?

• Do I need a few unused notes between two sounds?

• Can the part be transposed to make it easier to play?

This is where registration becomes part of musical arrangement rather than a separate technical activity.

Learning Restraint

One of the greatest dangers of a powerful instrument is trying to use everything at once.

It is possible to layer strings, choir, brass, piano, organ and synthesiser sounds into one enormous registration. It may sound impressive for a few moments, but it can quickly become tiring and indistinct.

More sounds do not automatically produce a better arrangement.

A clear solo instrument supported by two carefully balanced sounds will often be more effective than ten competing voices.

I am therefore learning to build registrations gradually.

Start with one sound.

Add a second sound only when it contributes something different.

Then ask whether the music genuinely improves.

The mute button can be as important as the sound-selection button.

Developing Hand Independence

Three manuals require a different kind of physical coordination.

On a piano, the two hands normally share one keyboard. On a three-manual organ, either hand may move between several levels.

The left hand might begin on the lower manual, move briefly to the middle manual and then return. The right hand might alternate between the middle and upper manuals.

This requires preparation.

The player needs to know not only which notes come next, but also where they will be played.

A useful practice method is to learn the movements without worrying about the complete arrangement.

For example:

• Practise the lower-manual accompaniment alone.

• Practise the solo-manual melody alone.

• Practise moving between the middle and upper manuals.

• Add the pedal notes.

• Combine two parts.

• Finally, assemble the complete performance.

Trying to learn the notes, registrations, manual changes and pedals simultaneously usually creates confusion.

Breaking the performance into smaller skills produces better results.

Learning to Use Dynamics and Expression

The manuals are not just separate banks of switches. They respond to the way they are played.

The Pergamon’s manuals support velocity and channel aftertouch, and dynamic curves can be assigned to individual manual sounds. The swell controls and footswitches can also be programmed and stored as part of a Total Preset.

That means a sound can respond differently depending on how firmly a note is played or how pressure is applied after the initial key press.

This becomes particularly useful with orchestral and synthesised sounds.

A string sound may swell.

A brass sound may become brighter.

A synthesiser may open its filter.

A solo instrument may gain vibrato or expression.

The technical possibilities are extensive, but the musical objective remains simple: make the performance sound alive.

Creating Registrations for Complete Pieces

One of my goals is to stop treating sounds as isolated demonstrations and begin designing complete registrations for real pieces of music.

That means planning:

• The opening sound

• The accompaniment

• The main melody

• Manual changes

• Pedal entries

• Changes in intensity

• The climax

• The ending

The Pergamon can store extensive Total Presets, including timbres, split points, effects, footswitch assignments, drawbar settings, tempo and other performance information.

The important skill is deciding what should be stored.

A preset should not merely load an attractive collection of sounds. It should prepare the instrument for a specific musical purpose.

A Practical Learning Routine

A structured practice session could be divided into six short sections.

1. Five Minutes of Pedal Practice

Play scales, simple intervals or the root notes of familiar chord progressions.

2. Ten Minutes of Manual Independence

Play a repeating chord pattern with the left hand while moving the right hand between the middle and upper manuals.

3. Ten Minutes of Registration Work

Choose three sounds and balance their volumes. Remove anything that masks the melody.

4. Ten Minutes of Split Practice

Create one split and test it across a real musical passage. Adjust the split point if the hands repeatedly cross it.

5. Fifteen Minutes on a Complete Piece

Concentrate on one section rather than playing the entire piece badly from beginning to end.

6. Record and Review

Record the performance and listen away from the organ.

This final step is particularly revealing. While playing, it is easy to become absorbed in operating the instrument. Listening afterwards makes balance problems, abrupt changes and unnecessary layers much easier to recognise.

The Organ as Part of a Creative Toolkit

For Philip M Russell Ltd, the Pergamon is more than an instrument for playing existing music.

It forms part of a wider creative toolkit.

It can contribute to:

• Original music for films

• Background music for science and sailing videos

• Introductory and closing themes

• Dramatic soundscapes

• Educational demonstrations of sound and synthesis

• Experiments with virtual instruments

• Music recorded into a DAW

• Development of original samples and registrations

This changes the purpose of practice.

Learning the organ is not only about performing a finished piece correctly. It is also about learning how to create, arrange, record and communicate through sound.

What I Am Really Learning

The most important lesson is that owning a powerful instrument and being able to use it effectively are very different things.

The Pergamon can provide an enormous range of sounds. It can place multiple timbres across three manuals, divide the keyboards into separate zones, integrate virtual instruments and store complex performance setups.

But the machine cannot decide which musical idea matters.

It cannot decide when the arrangement is becoming overcrowded.

It cannot decide whether a simple flute melody would be more effective than a full orchestra.

Those decisions still belong to the musician.

Learning the instrument therefore involves much more than discovering functions. It involves developing judgement.

Conclusion: Three Manuals Create Possibilities, Not Music

What can a three-manual organ do that a two-manual organ cannot?

Technically, the answer is more complicated than it first appears. A sophisticated two-manual instrument can reproduce many of the same sounds through splits, layers and programmed changes.

The real advantage of three manuals is that those musical possibilities become physically available.

The performer can give each manual a different role. A melody can move instantly between contrasting voices. Accompaniment, orchestral texture and solo lines can remain independent. The pedals can add another complete musical part.

Splitting the keyboards multiplies those possibilities again.

However, the value of the instrument is not measured by how many sounds can be played simultaneously. It is measured by how clearly those sounds communicate a musical idea.

The OAX 1000 Pergamon provides the tools to become organist, arranger, orchestrator, sound designer and performer.

My task is to learn when to use each of those tools—and, just as importantly, when not to use them.