A 42-year-old welder in Yantai, Shandong, has drawn nationwide attention by hand-crafting a large stainless-steel model of an aircraft carrier that can simulate catapult launches, breathe flames and even move across water. The creator, Ren Bailin, posted details of his work after a livestream crew contacted him on March 18, revealing a decade-long obsession turned technical achievement.
Ren’s interest in naval aviation dates to childhood. He collected carrier pictures as a boy, dismantled toy fans to make primitive floating models and, after finishing middle school, trained as an arc welder — a profession he has worked in for more than a decade. The commissioning of China’s first carrier, Liaoning, in 2012 crystallized his ambition: to build a full-scale model that captured both the look and some functions of a modern carrier.
To realize that goal Ren taught himself a wide range of technical skills, from CAD drawing and low-voltage control systems to mechanical principles, using online resources and library books. He spent most of his spare time for years learning and fabricating parts by hand; his first carrier took three years to complete after he disassembled and scaled up a purchased model, and a second, stainless-steel ship called “Zhenhua” took another three years. The models are notable not only for their scale but for practical tricks — a rotating “engine” repurposed from a cooking pot, stove burners to simulate exhaust flames, and a mechanical catapult that can launch model aircraft two to three metres.
Almost every component of Ren’s carriers is fabricated by hand in his workshop, reflecting patient, iterative engineering rather than mass-manufactured kits. He says the work is driven by personal passion rather than financial gain, and he plans a third, more advanced carrier inspired by China’s latest designs with some “sci‑fi” flourishes of his own. A Yantai museum has invited him to exhibit the models in June, and the story has prompted interest from local audiences and hobbyists online.
Ren’s project sits at the intersection of China’s growing maker culture and widespread public fascination with military modernization. Liaoning’s 2012 commissioning and the subsequent Fujian and other domestic advances in carrier technology have become sources of national pride, and DIY recreations like Ren’s translate that strategic narrative into tangible grassroots action. The museum invitation and the fact that his sons now help him suggest this kind of hands-on work may also function as informal STEM education for a new generation.
The wider significance is both cultural and practical. On one hand, Ren’s work illustrates how technical literacy and curiosity are diffusing into non-urban, blue-collar communities, potentially widening the pool of skilled technicians; on the other, it exemplifies how civil society can domesticize state-enabled symbols of power, turning them into community projects that reinforce patriotic sentiment. At the same time, these do-it-yourself feats raise questions about safety standards, intellectual property and the boundary between innocent hobbyism and the symbolic militarization of popular culture.
Ren’s message to fellow hobbyists is straightforward: commit to what you love and keep learning. Whether his third carrier will surpass the realism of the first two or simply add theatrical touches, his project is likely to remain a locally celebrated example of how individual initiative, long hours and basic workshop skills can produce surprising technical results.