Focused

Hey, amazing news! I bought a tool.

I know what you're thinking. Swarovski crystal handle, hand-hewn from the crystal mines of... No? You weren't thinking that? Oh. You were thinking "What have you gone and done now, Alf"? Ah. Well, yes, fair enough. As it happens this elegant example of the screwdriver manufacturers' art was not the primary goal.

It was the 30-odd pieces of black plastic and an assortment of screws and springs.

Oh, and some instructions. In Chinese. Not Chinglish, for which I have an inexplicable fondness, but actual hanzi. Thank goodness for the interweb, where I could find not only the instructions in English but also several articles on and additional photos of the building process. The end result is this:

A 35mm Twin Lens Reflex camera. (Stick "Recesky" or "Garraflex" (or both) in Google and you can learn all about it.) It's something between an Airfix kit and an Ikea flatpack, both of which I have some experience with. Such as checking you have all the parts and counting the screws before you start; I had a couple of spare washer head screws at the finish, which could have caused worry had I not known they were extras. A couple of very similar parts were transposed in their tray locations too, which held me up a little. So no, I didn't make it within the suggested hour, but it was less than two.

And it actually works. I put a test roll of film through it and got it developed yesterday in my local independent camera shop (Pause for a moment and dwell on the excitement that there is a local independent camera shop. Actually there are two. Amazing.) They all came out, all in focus, and no light leakage. Really pretty impressive, and bags of character. (That's code for "tiny area actually in focus" and "dark corners/vignetting") My previous camera use has been purely means to an end stuff; this is more "Have camera, what can I photograph?" Different experience entirely, and seeing the familiar through the reverse image viewfinder adds a Through The Looking-Glass aspect too. All in all a fascinating thing. Ridiculously satisfying too, especially making the shutter work. click click click click click

 

 

The scanner elected to make them a little redder than they should be, but you get the gist. The double exposure was unintended - although I did plan to try one anyway, albeit not quite like that... You know those Easter Island heads? Look at that sundial and tell me you don't see their extremely flat-headed cousins.

(P)en-gauged

Tool purists may want to look away now. Pen purists ditto. So-called "upcyclers" might like it though. Yes, it starts out pen-related, but woodworking happens. Just a little bit.

A few months ago I fell across a Parker GB "Slimfold" sans cap, but with a rather nice gold nib. I figured I might be unbelievably lucky and find a cap, or at least find another home for the nib, so divvied up the necessary lettuce and took on custodianship. Well it turns out the nib on a Slimfold is insanely small. I mean really, it's minute. Does the job in its intended body, but finding another donor body for it? Not outside another Slimfold. Another learning experience.

Of course there was nothing actually wrong with its existing body; to all intents and purposes it's a working pen, just without a hat. So then I started to think laterally and wonder about desk sets. You know the things; usually a pen-holding trumpet (or two), usually empty, sometimes with an ink well, sometimes with a calendar, clock, or some kitsch ornament of something or other. They're everywhere and no-one wants them.

At least they're everywhere right up until you consistently take a cap-less Slimfold in your pocket on the off-chance you'll find a suitable set and can see if the pen will fit nicely in it. The things all vanished from sight overnight. It was uncanny.

Time passed. Tired of the gods trifling with me (again), I finally decided to at least find out if my lateral thinking wasn't off the wall so much as up the wall, and threw one of those pen holders marketed to the turning fraternity into an order for something else. It turned (!) up and, well, let's say it's very shiny. At the moment. Not sure how long the coating will last, but hardly surprising at the price. However, it fit the Slimfold like a flaming glove. If I didn't know better - and the cap threads didn't totally give it away, not to mention it being rather short for a desk pen - I'd swear it was made for it. Excellent.

Buoyed by this progress, I got out the atlas and looked up directions to the workshop. A few false turns later and after evicting the new civilisation that had evolved under the Maxi26, I was staring at my stash of exotic off-cuts for inspiration. Rosewood? Something turned? Something incorporating that old boxwood rule? I'll just move this battered old mortise gauge head aside and... Oh, that's heavy.

Bingo!

So one split rosewood (An outside chance it might be ebony, but unlikely I fancy) mortise gauge head with an inevitably chewed-up clamp screw, but the brass escutcheon and wear strips in place and good order. Appears to have been used to hammer in small pins at one time and several areas where wood has split off. Not wildly promising, now I came to look at it, but I cleaned it up anyway and gave it the knackered wood equivalent of a swipe of lippy and some blusher. Shiny. Let's call it "Vintage" - that covers a multitude of sins.

Okay, so a gauge head has, by its nature, a large hole in the middle of it. I decided this was where the pen holder would go, screwed to another piece of wood that I could cunningly hold in place with the clamp screw. That way no permanent damage caused, should the world run so utterly short of old mortise gauge heads that this one ever became desirable again... A dive into the Even-Smaller-Exotic-Off-Cuts yielded a suitable piece of Muhuhu, and a file made reasonably short and accurate work of shaping up a suitable plug. And yes, a file; don't start on me. It's not only small, but a cross-grained evilly-minded piece of wood, and a file was the best tool for the job. Apart from having to grind a brass M4 machine screw down to the required length, the rest was a boring as drilling a hole might be expected to be. A trio of non-slip little rubber feet completed the thing, and behold! The old tool and fountain pen lunatic's ideal desk pen?

Once the freshly cleaned brass has dimmed down a little again, it'll knit together better. Anyway, you see what I meant by battered; that poor gauge suffered horribly.

Anyway, there ya go. Not to everyone's taste, I know, but I like it. Very tactile, and I'm pretty sure, unique. Now we just wait to see if the pen is up to the task; I imagine leaking and/or drying out are both possibilities, but as both the pen and myself are novices at a desk pen existence, I really have no idea. Oh goody, another learning opportunity...

Pencil Ponderings

"Oh no," I hear you cry. "She's going nuts for pencils now. Where will it all end?!"

Well, no, this is actually more of a woodworking post. Although... okay, so I may have been looking at pencils with more than passing interest. Just looking.

So, if everyone would please turn to page 62 of their copy of “De Rerum Fossilium Lapidum et Gemmarum Maxime, Figuris et Similitudinibus Liber” and look at figure 7.5. What d'you mean you haven't got your textbook with you, Crapforth? Share with Binns Minor then.

Not having a copy either, I don't know exactly where it may be found among the pages, but in 1565 (or maybe 1567), a Swiss gent called Conrad Gessner (or Gesner) had his book published, and apparently as all students of pencil history know, gave us the first description of a pencil:

"The stylus shown below is made for writing, from a sort of lead, which I have heard some call English antimony, shaved to a point and inserted in a wooden handle."

Thus more of a lead holder than what we might think of as a pencil, but let us not quibble. Not much to go on regarding construction from Conrad, but some bright German sparks have come up with a modern take on the thing; the Cleo Skribent Der Gessner Pencil:

Okay, so at this point I got interested. All wood, including the "clutch" mechanism. I went on a search for more images:

Some other useful angles here and here. And with some Photoshoppery magic, created this:

Initial measurements (and some of the pics) came from the fascinating Dave's Mechanical Pencils Blog, and from there I worked out what I think are some of the other key dimensions (could be a mm here and there - they're a handmade thing anyway) and gathered all the salient facts together.

Lead diameter: 5.6mm

Overall length: 154mm

Barrel diameter: 12mm

Barrel flared end: 15.5mm

Barrel materials: Cherry, or Swiss Pear, or Maple, or Spanish Broom

Clutch holder overall length: 34mm

Clutch holder collar (large) diameter: 9mm

Clutch holder collar length: 11mm

Clutch holder shaft (small) diameter: 8.5mm tapering down to 8mm

Clutch holder material: ?

Thoughts on the best choice of species for the clutch holder are encouraged. I wondered about beech; it looks beech-like here. But I presume it has to be able to give slightly, and perhaps beech is too hard. 

Anyway, there ya go - someone go forth and make one. Lead of the right size is readily available online, and a handmade workshop pencil might be something different for folks seeking ideas for Secret Santa. There are only so many marking knives, gauges, and screwdriver handles you can gift before you've saturated the market. Then come back here and tell us about it. 

Before you ask, yes, I'd have taken a crack at it already if my tailstock didn't need the strength of ten to wind it in and out - I've disassembled it, I've squinted at it, I've greased it, and I still have no idea what its problem is. Heck, if squinting at it doesn't work, I'm all out of ideas.

Of course all of the above presupposes that there hasn't already been one or more in depth articles on the making of same already, all of which have eluded me entirely. In which case, apologies; I'm so out of touch I could be a High Court Judge...

And the wotsit is...

As I write this, the quantity of wotsits guesses is a trifle low. I think I can feel a decision about this blog's future coming on, because I'm not convinced any of us are having any fun.

Anyway, the answer is... (insert drumroll here) A nib holder.

In what I believe is greenheart. Remind me not to use greenheart again - I sharpened the roughing gouge four times to complete this, which is ridiculous even allowing for my lack of turning competence.

You might recall I posted about making an effort to improve my handwriting back in June, and one of the ways to do that is to slow down. Trust me, nothing slows you down like using a dip pen. But I increasingly found the number of nibs I wanted ready to use far outweighed the number of holders I already had to hand - not helped by lucking upon a small selection of them at the car boot. And call me a tight-fisted woodworker, if you will (and heaven knows, it is a bit of a trait amongst the wood torturing fraternity), but I resented the thought of sending someone money for a stick that I had the means to make myself. So I have. A few times.

Front to back is the greenheart, pink ivory, muhuhu, and muhuhu/rosewood with a annoying decorative ring from the equally annoying pen turning kit I liberated the brass tube from to make the actual nib holder.

It's an on-going experimental thing of trying new shapes and sizes, and at least it's making use of some of those tiny pieces I hoard in my scrap box. Rather disappointingly it's seeming increasing like I should simply copy one of the plastic holders I already have, as it just seems to suit me. Figures.

For nib holders that are infinitely better turned and a lot more eye-catching, go Googling for "oblique pen holders". There are some real stunners out there.

Of course, after all that, it's too bad the handwriting hasn't improved more; my slopes are more varied than the answers to a "Which angle should I use for dovetails?" Hey ho.

Made a Wotsit

Got some w'shop time whilst my brother and sister-in-law were visiting, and made a... thing.

No, I'm not telling (or showing) you until you've had a guess. Reckon it's pretty easy, but then it would be for me - I know the answer.

The Thing

An exchange on one of the woodworking fora over the weekend reminded me that I don't think I've ever shared a particularly useful, but oh-so-ugly, homemade tool that lurks here at The Towers.

I call it the Thing.

As in "Where's the Thing?", "Oh, the Thing will do that", "Good grief, I really should make a nicer version of this Thing". It's not so much a tool for woodworking per se, although it's been used on a fair few handles in its time. But there are very few pre-owned tools in the w'shop that haven't been on the business end of The Thing at some point.

Yes, this is the glamour shot. Envious, aren't you? Even with that little bit of damage to the custom-made handle, the Thing exudes toolish loveliness.

No? Well, no. It is pretty darn hideous.

It came about quite by chance, many years ago. Early in my learning curve of cutting up old saw blades, I ended up with a new plate for a Sorby 18in panel saw, a number of scrapers, some scratchstock blades (in potenia) - and a 5in length of really vicious splinter-like saw plate. Somehow the usefulness inherent in this utterly fortuitously created piece of steel grabbed me immediately, and I kept it.

Within 20 seconds, I gave it a handle from electrical tape. Go on, wonder why...

One end is pointy and can get into all sorts of little areas of tools that need cleaning out. Screw head hopelessly gummed up with the detritus of the centuries? The pointy end of the Thing will clear out the slot in a moment. So much gunk in your knurled chuck you'd think it was smooth? The Thing can, with applied patience, do a cracking job. And so forth; you can probably easily imagine the sort of things it helps with. For a while I used to use an awl for those kinds of jobs, but why spoil the awl with such work? And anyway, often the shaft of an awl widens too quickly to fit in the necessary hole. The edge of this end also works pretty well for scraping widish areas.

The other end provides the scraper element. You can push with the end, or pull with the hook. Many a paint spot on a tool has been popped off with this, and you know how old tools were always apparently owned by Jackson Pollock when it comes to paint splatter. The point of the hook also comes in handy, especially when you want a very controlled movement to avoid creating damage on the surrounding surface. Just treated like a carving knife really.

Of course, after many years of service, those viciously sharp edges are getting rounded and not quite so effective anymore. On the other hand, a less aggressive edge/point can be equally useful to have. So rather than refresh the edges with a file (which does rather strike me as faintly ridiculous) I may have to actually see if I can deliberately make myself a new one.

What are the odds that it'll be harder to do it on purpose...?

Wooden Square

In amongst all the tool cleaning and refurb, a strange and unaccustomed feeling swept over me. Gradually it dawned on me what it was.

I wanted to make something in wood.

I know! What the dickens? Worry not, gentle reader - I slaked the need by making... a tool.

Yeah, it's one of them wooden squares. I'm not convinced about them, but as someone who believes in trying something for myself before dismissing it, I figured what the hell. I happened to have some suitably thin pieces of ash that had spent some years acting as drawer dividers, so I reckoned it was going to be about as stable as any wood ever will be. Alas, the truly quarter sawn pieces were a little thin and a little narrow, so I had to slum it a little.

And honestly? I don't like fancy shapes at the end of the blade. Y'know why I did it? There was a partial saw kerf in the ash, and by making a wavy shape at the end of the blade I could eek out another inch or so of length. It'd be vastly amusing if that or something similar was how the practice came about in the first place.

Being well out of practice - and bridle joints giving one very few places to hide - the stock ended up a tad shorter than planned too. First up I stopped thinking and started cutting like it was a tenon. i.e. All the wrong side of the line. Abort. Recut, shoot, mark again. Second time was just, ack, horrible. I tried to rescue it it, but it was beyond hope. Abort. Recut, shoot, mark again. Third time went much better, although I thought I'd got a better fit with the blade at 90° than subsequently occurred. *shakes fist at gap* No matter. The fit was largely okay, and as a slight re-entry back into some proper woodwork, it was fun to do. 

And I dunno what's with my photography at the mo', but swear on my combi plane collection, the edge of the blade is not sloping as it appears to be in that pic. Really, if I had any sense at all, I'd have Photoshopped that away and fixed the gap at the same time, but 'tis all laid bare for you, gentle reader. In all its hideous reality. 

I must be mad. (Don't answer that)

Awl that and more

So there's been some discussion on The Porch concerning bradawls. Well actually it was about gimlets originally, then bradawls cropped up, then someone said a bradawl and a birdcage awl were one and the same, and then I opened my big mouth to ask if that was actually so ('cos I thought not) and why would I need both. Then the next thing I know...

Well first let's talk about birdcage awls, which I like, and use. They have square shanks coming to a point, and they kinda ream out the hole and are generally just brilliant. I have a nagging feeling that it was John Brown who brought my attention to the birdcage awl, enthusing about it compared to a bradawl. So that's what I went for, by-passing the screwdriver-like bladed bradawl completely. In hindsight, this is a bit like skipping owning a battered old Mini and going straight to the new Jaguar; frankly I recommend it.

My birdcage awl is the Crown tear-drop handled jobbie on the far left. I'd like to extoll the virtues of this Sheffield-made tool in an unusual burst of patriotic tool worship, but, well... the blade isn't in straight (or central) and the ferrule's split. So... But the handle's lovely and comfy, so I forgive it quite a bit.

Next to the birdcage awl are the two bradawls (only two!) I seem to own. That's after I tidied the blades up on Friday, because hitherto they'd been sitting in the To Do pile being continually ignored. Well look at 'em. Are you stirred? Even a little bit? I'm not. I suppose some radical cleaning work on the handles might help. 

On the far right is the twist gimlet, the other two being shell gimlets. Honestly, I think I like the shell ones more but the twisty ones are generally regarded as preferable as far as I can tell. But I really don't use any of them; I like my wheel braces too much. And push drills. I love push drills. Have I mentioned that before? I think perhaps I have. The world needs more push drills; it does not need wrist-busting gimlets.

Anyway, I'm not sure anyone really ever explained why you'd need both types of awl, but there was a general vibe of "They're dead easy to make, so what are you waiting for?" Thus I found myself at the lathe, cursing the sticky tailstock which no amount of dismantling, reassembling, greasing, oiling or swearing at will remedy. But I digress. Discovered a turning blank I'd tentatively labeled "Padauk?" was actually She Oak, and that a very long, very thin, very bent screwdriver from the pile of stuff that was supposed to go to the dump approximately a twelvemonth ago and has mysteriously turned into a source for endless useful bits instead was just the ticket to provide blade fodder. Et voilà:

Being me, and an idiot, I only looked up about awls after the event - turning to volume one of The Practical Woodworker, wherein Mr Jones' information leads me to confirm my suspicion that the bevel is on the long side. He sez 1/4", should you be eager to know. Apart from that, I'm fairly pleased. And it's very comfortable to hold, to such an extent that I had some trouble getting various members of my family to put it down. Awls awl round for Christmas, then...?

Pop quiz: What's the other name for a bradawl?

Plum Job

Cracking on with handles various here. At this rate I should be done in a matter of... decades.

In this case, the coachbuilder's drawbore pins; formerly fitted with, um, rudimentary handles.


For historical accuracy, I should probably have kept them like that. But while functional, they didn't grab me. So instead I went a tad "Pimp My Handle" on them and broke out a piece of Plum that was plundered from the diseased, and thus doomed tree back in 2004. Locally grown timber at least seemed more in keeping with the original owner's vibe than breaking out a piece of Rosewood or some such.

The wonders of photography and cunning placement does wonders for my turning and the appearance of the end results. *pats camera on the lens cover in thanks* Honestly, I think this T-handle type of drawbore pin is infinitely preferable to the straight variety - any hammer blows can be directed right on the shaft, minimal amount of steel needed in manufacture, and the T-handle facilitates both twisting and removal. I'm sure I must be missing good reasons why only coachbuilders opted for this style; the comments box is open for the reader to point them out.

Tools used were mainly spinny turny ones of course, but a 1/4" Hale Bros. firmer chisel and a really badly turned (by me; who else?) Apple mallet did a sterling job in squaring up the through hole to take the square shanks. If there's any more enjoyable hand tool task than working an air-dried hardwood, it must be working an air-dried fruitwood. Lovely.

Hammer Time

So my week of solitude and productivity has passed. Not as much solitude as I expected, and a whole bundle less productivity. However, small though it may be, a tiny inroad has been made in the Box O' Tools Needing O' Handles. Viz; former hammer handle has been refitted thusly:

Then reduced a little in size, reshaped to, um... become another, slightly smaller, hammer handle for a useful size of cross pein (or peen) hammer. As, indeed has a smaller hammer handle been refitted to an even smaller example of hammer head. The latter was a handle I'd made ages ago, and I'm not still wholly convinced by the piece of Ash used for it to be honest. The larger (now slightly smaller) handle, on the other hand, was rescued from a ball pein (or peen) hammer from the coachbuilder's tools, and it's good stuff. The colours in the grain are just gorgeous, and not done any justice to at all in this photograph.

Tools used were mainly a Stanley #53 adjustable mouth spokeshave and that invaluable beast for shave work, the Shave Pony.

This last week my Mum was getting a little light refitting of an essential component done too; heart bypass surgery. Scheduled, I should point out. Which is better than in an emergency situation, apart from all the time it gives you to worry about it... Anyway, she's now safely home, so while not actually being so insane as to say "Ya boo" to the gods, I feel I can at least now hazard a small "So far, so good". To be honest, given the level of difficulty involved, it seems as though the hammer handles caused proportionally more drama...

More Sacrilege

Well this week I'm left, Cinderella-like, here at Alf Towers - which usually means I get some solid, uninterrupted workshop time. That was the plan. Then on Saturday I managed to pull something-or-other in my back, and now it's not the plan quite so much. Sigh. I wouldn't have minded if it had been caused by lifting some heavy baulk of Southern Yellow Pine or summat - but I was moving a packet of sausages from one freezer drawer to another. Double sigh.

But let that be a warning, kids. Sausages really are bad for you...

However, the Saturday before last, I did manage a little light rust hunting, and succumbed to my mumblefourthmumble hand cranked grinder. I confess I fell for the solidity of the tool rest on it; I know nothing of Fabrex Tools Ltd except they also seem to have made a solid-looking wheel brace as well.

Not to mention the little built-in drill bit grinding rest. Cool. Of course I've never reground a drill bit in my life, and had hitherto had absolutely no plans to start, but that's not the point.

Only hitch-ette with the solidity of the tool rest, is it's brought about by a nifty slide-y dovetail-y groovy set up - that does not tilt.

So ideally I wanted another, tilt-y rest that could pop over the top, and yet get out of the way when a 90° grind - or a newly sharpened drill bit - was required. At which point I had a bit of a brainwave about what to use to make one, that'd not only provide a nice robust surface, but also an effective heat sink.

Can you tell what it is? Are you ready?

The easily shocked might be best to turn away now.

No, really, I mean it.

Well I warned you...

Yes, it's the toe of a #4 1/2.

It wasn't a good #4 1/2 of any pedigree at all. More to the point, I already have a task for the rest of the body, so otherwise this bit'd go to waste. It's a Good Thing, honestly.

Also, cast iron really is the loveliest stuff to tap. It's a wildly inaccurate description, but I can't help thinking of it as somehow "buttery". Lovely stuff. And really, it's probably just as well I get out this desire to tap threads in plane bodies on stuff like this, isn't it, boys and girls? Yes, I rather think it is.

Anyway, works a treat; little bit higher on the wheel than ideal, but a necessary evil to avoid the existing rest and still have a tilt range. Best of all, the half lap for the base went together "just so" right off the saw, which cheered me up no end. Of course I was extra happy to get to the woodworking bit, metalwork being a ghastly, dirty business which I like not at all. No wonder amateur woodworking seems to overflow with engineers; blessed relief to them to be clean for once, I should think... ;)

Oooo, la la

So were you expecting a trip into the deepest corners of the w'shop to find the Mythical O-Ring fields, wherein these useful fittings grow in plentiful profusion, just ripe for harvesting. You weren't? Just me then.

No, I knew exactly where the O-rings were, so that was the easy bit. See? Add in a length of nylon cord that I got in amongst a bag of reel ends from a chandlers about 25 years ago (Please refer back to the phenomenon of Things That Will Come In Handy from yesterday's post), coupla bowlines, and behold. Proof of concept.

Mrs F was so-so about it at first, but once she'd discovered that the hexagonal nuts weren't actually going to hurt like she thought they might, happiness ensued and it's been worn extensively. Not a thing of beauty, but a joy for several weeks anyway. Now I really need to find out if such a thing as a clear O-ring exists, and whether it'll work if they do. And find some beads so I can get my brass nuts back...

But the observant may be raising a hand at this juncture, and pointing out that I claimed happy w'shop results plural. i.e. More than one. So onto number two we go.

The reason I have a selection of O-rings at my fingertips is not because I wanted to make some sort of Olympic symbol, but because of coping saws. Or rather coping saw-sized bow saws. I like coping saws for dovetailing; can't get along with piercing saws at all. I've tried, but just, no. Not for me. Not that I was getting along with my coping saw that well either, really. Couldn't find a decent one at all. (Does this sound familiar to you? The Schwarz and I are actually clones - only he got all the skinny genes and I got the shorter haircut...) Legend told me that the older Eclipse was the best one to get, but despite legend also telling me they were two-a-penny at any boot sale of your choice, I simply never saw one. In the meantime I even resorted to trying the modern Bahco model, which merely demonstrated that throwing money at the problem only made it much worse. BugBear came to my rescue one Christmas though, and furnished me with this shiny beauty:

Now the Eclipse is pretty good for applying tension on the blade, which is usually the major problem with inferior coping saws. I mean really pretty good. But like the unloved Bahco - although not anywhere near to the same infuriating level - it still has a nasty tendency to allow the blade to swivel when you don't want it to. The very feature of a coping saw that I so prefer over the fixed blade piercing saw is also, in fact, its Achilles Heel.

Bum.

So, in a bid to improve the coping saw experience, many a user has ended up making a bow saw sized to take coping saw blades. They're very beautiful, apply loads of tension, and... still apparently some of them swivel when you don't want them to. But some don't. So I've had one on my To Make List for several years now, in the hopes I'd hit the magic formula and make one that resolved all my coping saw issues. I read all I could find on them, saved all the pics, in short did my usual prevarication cunningly disguised as in-depth research.

No, I still haven't made one, but I did start to gather together some of the necessary hardware last Christmas.

Ah, no. The Christmas before last now. Whoops.

Anyway, somewhere, and I can't for the life of me recall where, I read someone had worried about the fact that the old full-sized bow saws used to have tapered rods that actively wedged themselves as the tension was increased, thus negating the tendency to swivel, but what about this small version with parallel rods? So they decided to fit it out with some O-rings and behold, it worked and the thing didn't not swivel unless actively demanded so to do.

So I also procured myself some O-rings for when I made that coping saw-sized bow saw.

Why on Earth the penny took so long to drop, I have no idea, but as I threaded the doubled-up O-ring through the brass nut for the spectacle chain, I suddenly wondered "Self, would the O-ring idea work on our existing coping saw?" I had the O-rings, I had the coping saw - 'twas but the work of a moment to find out.

The Eclipse tends to swivel most at the handle end (The Bahco isn't as picky and swivels at both ends...); after trial and error, I found it worked better with the O-ring here, rather than between the handle ferrule and the frame.

The other end has no other option than this, but it works.

Boy, does it work. I'm not holding back in trying to get this thing to move once the blade is tensioned, and it simply does not budge.

A very quick and dirty cut in some seasoned oak with the blade swivelled to an angle. Didn't move a jot, and I certainly didn't coddle it.

Fab.

Now I'm sure I can't be the first person to do this, but as a tip it seems to have utterly passed me by. So here it is, just in case it's passed you by too.

Of course it may not work for every coping saw. The fit between the blade holders and the frame on the Bahco is so atrocious there's not enough for the O-ring to bear on in order to do the job. Sigh.

So that's it; a long way round to saying "Made my mum a spec chain and improved a coupla tools". Next week - woodworking.

Nah. Just kidding... ;)

Bead and Wheels

I like beads; indeed I've written on the matter and how much I like them before. Many are the sizes and variety of bead-making tools Chez Alf. Unfortunately absolutely none of them were any good for the kind of bead I needed in order to make some Do It Yourself Spectacle Chain fittings. I needed a bead with a hole. Like a Polo, but less minty.

Now any self-respecting workshop (Or, in my case, any shameful workshop) has a stash of Things That Will Come In Handy. I have one or two - or maybe four - plastic tubs of the assorted small "You Never Knows" of this variety, but Tobacco Tins of Things is the classic Old School method. I know this because I have several of those too. Tool chests are rich pickings for these, and as a couple of contents of tool chests have darkened these doors, the tobacco tins have stacked up. So I was fairly confident of finding something bead-like.

I hunted amongst the shirt collar stiffeners, the razor blades, the Blakeys, the uncut Yale keys, the Vacant/Occupied door bolt, and so forth, but no beads or bead-like objects. Okay then, how about a suitable nut of the "and bolt" variety? Not zinc plated, methinks, but something in stainless steel or, ooo, brass? Just as I was about to dig out my box o'brass bits, my eye fell on something in amongst the upholstery tacks and fibre washers.

Something with a hole in it that otherwise looked kinda like a straw boater. Or a train wheel.

If the Reader will cast his or her mind back to, um, last January (Really? Gosh, how time does insist on flying) and my acquisition of an older Millers Falls #2 hand drill. Missing the Little Rail Road Car Wheel that bears on the main gear wheel, wasn't it? Have I done anything about it yet? Have I heck. But would this fortunate find fit?

Well yeah, it does. Kinda. It's not the clever cam adjustment design of the original, and I think it's going to need some tweaking once I've tried it under load, but it's definitely a start and 100% better than nothing at all.

Maybe sometimes the tool gods do give us suckers an even break. Just once in a while, to keep us guessing.

Yes, you'll have noticed I found the box o'brass bits too - a couple of M4 nuts seemed just the ticket to fulfil my original quest. Next, the O-rings to go with them.

New Hand Tools

July |joŏˈlī|

noun1. the seventh month of the year, in the northern hemisphere usually considered the second month of summer2. the month in which Blogging Does Not Happen

Mind you, August isn't looking too hot, blog-wise either, is it, reader? Sorry about dat. But hey, you know me, if I was actually in the workshop I wouldn't be able to resist telling you all about it, so rest assured you're not missing anything.

But I have not been idle, although twiddling my thumbs has been a feature. For some reason, after a lifetime of indulging in the dreadful habit, I randomly stopped biting my nails a month or so ago. As a result, I now have these potentially lethal sharp edges appearing that, I can tell you, feel really weird when you haven't had them before.

(Yes, I did feel compelled to go "Grrrr" when I posed for this, why do you ask?)

So now I'm faced with alien questions like "What grit is an emery board anyway?" "When is David Charlesworth's seminal work on the care of fingernails in the w'shop coming out?" And most importantly of all, "What bevel angle should I sharpen them to? And will the ruler trick be necessary...?"

All very worrying, but hey, you can't get much more hand tool than this, can you...? ;)

The Peters Principle

A couple of times in recent weeks, the subject of shooting boards has cropped up across the various fora. It often does. In particular the discomfort of using a regular Bailey pattern bench plane for the task. Now I confess I don't actually use a regular Bailey pattern bench plane for the task; I'm bevel-up/low angle plane rich and use one of them. Mainly the L-N low angle smoother, funnily enough - the least recommended for the job. No, I don't know why either.

But despite that, the problem has long intrigued me. L-N now offer "hotdogs" for their #9 mitre plane and their low angle jack and Derek Cohen has a step-by-step on fashioning you're own here. Which I hadn't actually read 'til now... Why? Because I never liked the look of a sausage sitting on the side of the plane, and wasn't that keen on the set screw either. But then I watched "The Alan Peters Approach" DVD.

Now in many ways this is a difficult DVD to watch, because Alan Peters was pretty frail by the time it was filmed. But if you can get past that, his skill and woodworking nous is still all there and there's plenty to glean from it. One of which is his attachment for a #7 when used for shooting. Essentially it's a shaped piece of wood that slips over the cheek of the plane, but it doesn't need a set screw to keep it where you want it, so it can slip off again equally easily. There's no close-up of it, which is fairly frustrating, but I was able to grab enough screencaps to give me something to work from.

Yes, dear reader, curiosity had got the better of me again, and I wanted to try to make my own. So I dived into the scraps box, came up with some likely-looking prototype materials and set to work. The sandwich technique seemed the obvious route, so I first traced the side profile of the plane onto the thin sandwich filling and bandsawed it out. The inner layer of sandwich is in two pieces - one to allow room in front of the blade and lever cap to remove same without having to take off the shooting grip, and the other shaped to fit against the rear of the frog.

I elected to glue the outer and middle layers together first.

Then the idea was to screw the inner cheeks on so I could adjust the thickness of the middle layer with a plane as required after trying it. As it turned out it fit just right straight off the bat, but the screws seem like a good idea anyway, and the danger of splitting apart the sandwich is obvious. Watch where you put them though - one of mine got dangerously close to the edge and, indeed, the point is just visible after the shaping stage. When fitting the rear inner layer, take some care in making sure it bears on the rear of the frog. It helps to put a bit of double-sided tape on it, offering up the outer and middle part of the sandwich to the plane cheek and then stick the inner layer in place to make sure its right.

As you can see, I went back to the bandsaw to curve the profile, then used chisel, spokeshave, and abrasives to refine the shape a little. Again, trial and error to get the best fit for your hand and shooting grip is inevitable. I did little more than round the corners and make a small depression for my thumb and the improvement in comfort was remarkable. If I was going to use it more, I'd probably do a little more work to create a relief for the heel of my hand too.

A wipe of finish just to make it tidy, and she's done. Overall dimensions are 7" long, 1 5/8" deep and 1" thick. You could make it a little deeper with advantage I think, but it's rock solid as it stands.

Well it sort of looks like the inspiration, anyway.

From the inside you can get a slightly better of idea of bearing points. The side profile of a Bailey pattern plane is actually pretty slippery, so important work is done by the rear inner layer bearing on the back of the frog and stopping the whole thing sliding forward. If it was a little deeper you could add an additional bearing point over the rib in front of the mouth, but it doesn't seem to need it.

Anyway, there we are. Might be useful to someone and my curiosity is assuaged. Oh, one word of warning though - I've tried this on all my other Bailey pattern planes, and it doesn't fit a single one. A combination of profile shape and casting thickness makes these a custom job for each individual plane.

And the Tools Used:

#7 jointer plane

Pencil

Bandsaw

2" G-clamp

3" G-clamp

Sliding bevel

Double-sided tape

Drill press

4mm brad point bit

2.5mm brad point bit

Countersink

Slot head screwdriver

1 1/2" chisel

#63 spokeshave

Assorted abrasive papers

Edited to add Lee Valley Newsletter article, for another take on thing.