I had it, then I lost it...

...free time, that is. This afternoon was supposed to be empty. My Thursday class finishes at 1:30, I have no Friday classes, and this weekend is Fall Break so my next class isn't until Wednesday. I was even considering actually cleaning up the garage...that's how much time I was suppose to have. Then the doorbell rang...

FedEx...oh my, what could it be?

Looks like someone got a new saw kit, holdfast, and making knife...

Everything here was made in the US...even the cheap little knife. Apparently the Zona people took over the X-acto facility when X-acto left for China.

I was a little surprised here. This package wasn't supposed to arrive until tomorrow. Then again, it was FedEx. Had they used USPS I'm sure the package would've already been through Hartsfield-Jackson twice and currently be en route to Nome, Alaska via dog sled.

So as I said, I had lots of free time and then completely lost it once the saw kit arrived. Typically the handle on this style saw is made out of fruitwood or some such dense species. I don't have any of that nonsense lying around, nor do I feel like spending more money. As such, I was left with two options: mahogany or maple. I like maple a lot, you can really almost do anything with it and it isn't too expensive. On the other hand, this saw has a fair amount of brass on it and in my opinion you can't beat brass and mahogany together.

Mahogany it was...

Well, maybe. It ain't exactly the toughest wood out there. I used the same template/router bit method that I tried with the ebony tote earlier this week and things were going fine--you can see from the picture that I was about 90% done with the blank--when something caught the bit wrong and the blank just snapped right then and there. Damnit.

I decided to give mahogany one more try, only this time I used the scroll saw for the whole thing--again, just like I ended up doing with the tote. I've come to the conclusion that the template bit should only be used for simple patterns with lots of straight lines when the wood is close to an inch thick. Thinner stuff is no problem.

Next I drilled the two holes that connect the blade to the handle. I included the drilling sequence in the photo:

1/2" Forstner, 3/16", 1/16", flip, Forstner, 3/16". Very easily done on the drill press.

Next came the part that I was half anticipating, half dreading: setting the blade in the spine. This is the part I've mentioned previously and included that video of the Gramercy guy beating the blade with a modified cricket bat. I just went straight at it.

Start the blade by hand:

 Then beat it in a little bit at a time:

No sweat.

Then I had to carve out the notch and spline for the now brass-backed saw to sit in the handle. The first step is to mark a nice centerline running around the area I'm going to work on. Here's an easy way to establish a quick centerline:

I set my marking gauge reasonably close to what I think looks like the center and then etch a line. Then I flip the piece over and etch another line. In the above picture, these are the two upper outside lines. After I have these two line established, it's easy to set the gauge exactly in the middle of the two lines; this would be the centerline. No tedious measuring needed. After this I cut the spline into which the actual blade will fit:

I know, I said the workbench would be the dozuki's last project...I was wrong.

The dozuki was actually perfect for this task because the kerf of the saw is just about equal to the width of the Gramercy blade.

Then I had to remove material so that the brass spine would fit in the handle:

The instructions called for an 11/64" bit for this. Who has one of those lying around? Had to make it work with a 5/32" and a chisel. The blue masking tape on the bit is my depth gauge. That reminds me of a funny video I saw yesterday:

How to chuck a drill bit. from Woodzealot on Vimeo.

It took a lot of trimming and tuning, but finally the blade fit perfectly:

You can see the caps of those nice brass bolts. Their respective nuts required a split nut driver to tighten them. Fortunately these are very similar to chainring bolts on bicycles and I just happened to have the appropriate wrench for the job. Actually I had two of them which was good because a little bench grinder time was needed to adapt it for the job.

A little rasping, a little filework, a little sandpaper, a little satin wax...

Cute little bugger, ain't it? Now, maybe I'm just used to dull saws, but this thing was quick! If you want to you can bury it in two strong strokes. Blink and you miss it. I'm still getting used to cutting on the push stroke but I don't think it will take too much getting used to.

Kinda makes me want the bigger one too. They come as a kit as well...how long 'til Christmas?

Risk-->Reward?...Ramblings

Occasionally I come across a discussion of a particular way of viewing craftsmanship. Essentially the model places any craftwork along a spectrum with "workmanship of risk" at one end and "workmanship of certainty" at the other. Basically where your work sits on the spectrum is a function of how likely you are to screw up the whole job at any moment. The late David Pye is credited with developing this model.

Here's an example of workmanship of certainty:

With a CNC, everything is set up before the workpiece is ever at risk. Really, the craft is completed before the bit ever touches the aluminum.

If you want to see you workmanship of risk, head on over to Konrad Sauer's site and take the time to study some of the posts where he walks you through the steps of turning wood and steel into $10,000 handplanes. Lathes? CNCs? Mills? Nope...pretty much just a hacksaw, rasps and files.

Yesterday while I was boring that hole all the way through my new tote I was remembering a picture from Konrad's site:

This was a jig he made for drilling the holes for the cap lever pin on a freaky badger plane. The nature of the plane is such that the angle of this hole is not normal to any axis of the plane body. I suppose the trig calculations aren't that difficult, but I'm pretty sure that he hadn't actually defined any of the angles contributing to it...trying to measure them with any degree of certainty would be futile because any measurement errors would be magnified by the other two angles. That's why I really like his caption for the above photo: 

"In the end I pretty much eyeballed it, took a deep breath, and went for it."

True, if he screws up here, he's only ruined an assemblage of metal. However, at this point he'd probably already spent 40 hours or so on the plane and one wrong move erases a whole week of his working life. He's got kids and a mortgage too, no wonder his stuff is so expensive. I don't do nearly as complicated work as this and I still manage to screw up EVERY SINGLE PROJECT I attempt in some way. Everything I do is filled with mistakes.

But sometimes dowel holes do line up correctly. Sometime pins and tails mate satisfyingly snugly. Occasionally I can even cut a tenon whose sides are parallel and whose shoulders are all on the same plane--not often, but occasionally.

Perhaps this is all a long way around examining the title of this blog. Most folks probably view woodworking--particularly handtooling--as a pretty tame, relaxing hobby. "Adventure" may not exactly be the first word that comes to mind. I can, however, assure you that there are moments of true exhilaration to be had from these high-risk situations.

I would encourage all to examine daily tasks and place them on the risk/certainty scale.

Baking cookies? I like them soft but not so much that I have to wash my hands afterwards. How much time in the oven it too much time?

Trimming fingernails? I like them really short, but don't want them tender.

Etc, etc.

Hopefully my saw kit will come in this week so we can get back to the normal posts instead of this nonsense.

No Rest for the Weary

Well, I'm about ready to call the workbench done. I counterbored a hole for the good luck coin into one of the mortise wedges and banged it home. I used a Virginia quarter: but of course.

Onward to the next project. I mentioned making a replacement tote for my jointer plane earlier out of the ebony. I've never done anything like this before; fortunately cameras were rolling:

The first thing was to glue the template down to some plywood. I use plywood because it's a little more isotropic than solid wood and therefore it's easier to cut along a line that goes in different directions.

Then off to the scroll saw. I think the scroll saw will be the first power tool any future kids use. It's pretty safe--as far as power tools go--and really simple. I originally bought it for cutting wooden gears and was knocking good ones out the same night. The tote template is even easier.

Then I roughly traced the template onto the ebony, and cut out the rough blank on the bandsaw. I then attached the template on the blank with tape and push pins.

I then set up my router table with a flush trim bit. On this photo you can see how the bearing follows the template pattern and guides the carbide cutters. This trims the ebony into the exact shape as the template...

...at least in theory. I've used this method for a lot of things with no problem, but I've never used it with ebony. The wood is so hard that a couple of times the piece kicked-back and nearly flew out of my hands, despite really light cuts and slow feed rate. This was pretty scary so I abandoned it and just went back to the scroll saw and used the template as a guide. Tah-dah!:

Then I used the marking gauge to mark the middle of the blank for hole-drilling purposes:

I then drilled the holes through which the bolts would go. I didn't photo-document this well because it was mentally and physically intensive and I was more concerned with not screwing it up. It all worked out with a little tuning at the end. Here's my drill press set up with the blank removed:

The table is set at 27 deg. for the hole angle and the block of wood keeps the blank straight upright.

It turns out that the template model didn't exactly fit my particular plane. Apparently there were variations throughout time. My plane couldn't accommodate the height of the template model so I had to trim the height a little bit. I was sad about this because I really wanted that big fin at the top.

Then I hit the whole thing with a round-over bit:

Then some rasping, filing, and sanding...

...rub a little oil on it and you have a tote.

Hmm, the picture didn't turn out quite as well as I hoped. Click on it to make it big.

Not bad for a first go, eh? It's a little chunky and not quite as graceful as the original but it fits my hand a lot better. I don't have huge hands but that original was so narrow it really dug into me. Plus this one has racing stripes. If only I had a lathe I'd make a matching knob. *sigh*

Similar post to come: I went ahead and pulled the trigger on the Gramercy saw kit. I've alway wondered how the blade is installed into the brass spine:

Now I know. It doesn't look like a big deal but frankly I was horrified the first time I saw this video. Those are the teeth he's banging on there. Apparently this is how it's been done for centuries so who am I to argue?

Okay, I've got it now...

...a little while ago I was struggling to come up with a good pun involving handplanes and airplanes. I've got it now...

Where do you park your plane when you are not using it?

A Hanger!

I've almost completed my little onboard benchplane storage unit here. This original section of benchtop was rather rotten so I went ahead and removed it early on. I made this little rack today and it is nearly complete. The glue for the additional inlay around the borders needs to dry and then I'll plane it flush. The inlay separating the planes will remain proud to prevent them from knocking against each other. We'll see how it works out.

I'm surprised I haven't been talking more about tools than I have. I really do enjoying learning as much as I can about all the different implements used in working wood. I think that I've twice mentioned that I'm moving over to Western saws. I went to a large antiques market today hoping to find a brass-backed rip-filed dovetail saw. I was disappointed. I'd been counting on finding one at a good price that needed a little work so that I could practice my sharpening skills but left empty-handed. eBay is questionable for this sort of thing because you can't tell a lot about the subtler points of the condition of the saw from the postings. 

I've had my eye on those new-fangled saws from Lee Valley/Veritas. They are kind of funny looking but I've yet to read a poor review. The price is amazing too: you can get a pair of rip- and crosscut-filed saws for $110. That's less than the cost of one Lie-Nielsen. Experienced folks generally place them in the middle of the pack for top-performing saws and nobody disputes the value. I think it was Christopher Schwarz who called them the Honda Accord of fine saws. 

The saw that seemed to keep being mentioned at the top of these tests was the Gramercy Dovetail saw, made in Brooklyn...how many other products can you name that are actually made in New York City? The downside: $150. That's too much money for me...I'd like to, but I can't. Then I noticed that you can buy a kit and make the saw for about half the price. Not only would this present an opportunity for a good project, I think it would also foster a better sense of ownership of the tool. There's nothing I hate more than products that aren't user-serviceable--this is a big part of why I'm moving away from Japanese saws. Sometimes, however, a lack of serviceability can be self-imposed. For example, were I to spend $150 on the complete Gramercy, there is no way I'm going to take that thing apart and alter it; I'd probably just be too intimidated by it. If I've already paid a huge premium for their assembly expertise, why would I risk screwing it up? 

Any thoughts?

Payday...

...as in "pay for your mistakes" and "big payoffs."

I made it back to Carlton's before class today to pick up some ebony to correct that glue-up SNAFU discussed earlier. Now, I've dealt with teak before and I thought that was some pretty expensive stuff. If I recall correctly it was somewhere in the neighborhood of $9.00/bd ft. That's pretty high. I've dealt with mahogany as well and that was up there too. I figured I'd get about 1.5 bd ft. of ebony to be on the safe side for this inlay operation and maybe pay $15-20. So as Richard and I were sorting through different pieces--stunning stuff--he looked at me and said, "You know this stuff is $80/bd ft." "Eight?" "No, eighty." "Ooookay then. Got any good substitutes?"

So picture a piece of wood one foot by one foot and an inch thick...that's $80.

He showed me a close relative to the pure black ebony called mun ebony (diospyros mun). It's ink black with thick bands of white running through it and, like black ebony, is as heavy as lead. It's also half the price of the black ebony which still brings it to four times as expensive as the previous most-expensive-wood-I've-bought. Here's The Precious:

Yep, a $60 piece of wood. 

Fortunately I'm allowed to return what I don't use. Isn't woodworking a great little community? Except it takes all your money.

I had a thought as I was driving home: remember my jointer that came with the broken tote that I glued back together? Well, the glued joint isn't exactly seamless and doesn't suit me well. I recalled seeing that Lee Valley has produced free templates for making reproductions of Stanley totes. Interesting business move if you think about it:

Lee Valley: "So instead of buying our stuff, you go out and buy someone else's stuff and then you come to us looking for free help to repair their stuff. Oh, okay...we'll help you out." Does this not reinforce every Canadian stereotype you have, good and bad?

The thought formed: why don't I make my own tote out of ebony with white racing stripes? I think my workbench has a maiden project:

But let's not get ahead of ourselves here...there's a bench to finish. The first step in exotic wood prep is often to scrape the wax off:

They coat the edges of high-dollar hardwoods with wax to prevent moisture from escaping from the sides. But John, don't you want dry wood? Yes, but you want moisture to escape uniformly through the face of a board so that you don't get differential contraction which will put cracks in the piece. I then jointed an edge...

 Expensive shavings

...and cut some strips on the bandsaw:

Then I tapered the bottom of the strips with the blockplane so that they could be wedged into the groove:

Ebony dust is nasty stuff

I think that the effort was worth it:

That was good work for the day but I had some more time on my hands so I took out the router and rounded-over the tool tray edges:

If you look closely at the previous picture you can also see that I have removed the top half of the ends of  the tool tray. I did this so that I can use the workbench to hold sheet goods (plywood) while I cut it with a circular saw. I just line the cut up over the tool tray, set the saw depth to just barely go through the wood, and saw away. I removed those chucks from the ends so that my cuts wouldn't be confined to the length of the workbench. I think it's a slick idea.

I'd been thinking about finishes for a long time and finally settled on boiled linseed oil. Tonight was the night.

Before:

Wait for it...




 After:

Check out how the oil darkens the endgrain and emphasizes those ostrichtails. Pretty sweet. Makes me wanna clap my hands...

Nice chickens there.

Top, meet Bottom

Big things happening...

I finished constructing the components for the undercarriage:

I removed the middle part of the bases to give each end two feet instead of just one long base. I think this will stabilize it a bit more by forcing the support outwards.

Then I bolted that sucker down with some lag screws...

...and look what I had:

I said previously that I would better explain my wedged tenons down on the base. I think this picture does a better job explaining than words could:

The wedge and its mortise have the same taper so that when you drive the wedge down it pushed against the leg and pulls the stretcher into its mortise nice and tight. Very sturdy and easy to disassemble.

You'll also notice dogholes in the benchtop now. Into these holes you place a dowel-like object called a benchdog and do the same thing with the doghole in the vise. This allows you to effectively turn the whole workbench into a clamp. This is useful for assembling large objects and holding larger boards for planing. Here's a shot showing the benchdogs in place:

If I place a board between the dogs and tighten the vise, the board will be held in place.

I used the method Lee Valley recommends for boring dogholes for their benchpups: I made a jig whereby each hole references off both the edge of the benchtop and the previous hole:

This ensures nice and even spacing.

So now I have a nice surface on which to work. But don't think the work here is finished: there are still a lot of finishing touches to go on my bench to get it to where I want it. For example, I'm ready to admit defeat on that corner opposite the face vise. The fourth picture I posted today really shows how hopelessly out of plane it is with the rest of the bench. I was thinking about drilling some holes in it for chisel storage...we'll see. At the other end of the bench is that area of the waney edge that I cut out. Here I plan to make a little rack for handplane storage. I'm looking forward to seeing how that will work out. There is also the drawer situation...not sure what to do about that yet.

Rigor Mortise and Tenon

I added that last bit of the skirt the other day. It went on with no problems and was just a matter of gluing the tongue and dovetails and clamping it up. Because of the length of the benchtop it required my longest pipe clamps to be supplemented with additional Pony clamps. I don't like doing this because the tension along the axis of the clamp is always a little offset where the clamps meet. Not a big deal in this situation but there are times when it is potentially a little dangerous.

I then went ahead and installed the two vises. I'm afraid I didn't photo-document this part. I blame this on the frustration level involved in the tail vise: it uses two little steel guide-ring bushings that truly tested my patience. They really improve the performance of the vise but my word, they were a pain to install. At one point I was tempted to go blow $50 on a right-angle impact driver (Yes, I own the JobMax. Yes, it's a great tool) specifically for the task. Must resist impulses to buy tools for one-time needs. In the end I got the SOB installed and am pleased with it. It really reduces the amount of play in the vise. The face vise doesn't have the guide bushings and has a remarkable amount of play in it. *sigh*

Completed benchtop:

Well, kind of completed: the general construction is done but there is plenty of detailing to do.

Then I flipped it over to start work on the leg assembly. One nice thing about traditional woodworking vises is that you can use them upside-down! Not an asset 99% of the time but it was nice here. This picture reminds me of the expression "building a plane in midair:"

I just thought of something: this project makes extensive use of the three types of joints: butt, corner, and angle. The floating tongues were butt joints, the ostrichtails were corner joints, and now time for the mortise and tenons. There are 16 of them total in the undercarriage: 8 blind and 8 through. I don't really enjoy busting these guys out. There is just too much chopping with the chisel. It's loud and tiring. I cut a few tenons by hand and then decided to just go with the bandsaw. I feel I've put in my time cutting tenons with the ryoba, don't particularly enjoy it, and I'm not especially good at it. As I mentioned before, this is my last project with the Japanese saws, so farewell big ryoba:

Big, chunky joints; but darn if they aren't solid.

I was joking with my mother-in-law about "the next workbench I plan to build." I was kidding, but this picture does suggest a man who needs even more space, doesn't it?

Among handtool aficionados its trendy to refer to power tool use as "burning electrons." I'll tell you what, it takes a lot of red-ox reactions to complete a mortise through a 2" thick piece of maple. My body is killing me from all the work today. Here's the result:

(FYI: trashcan o' shavings II went out to the curb yesterday, as did an empty 50lb. dog food bag stuffed full of dust)

The next step is to complete the tapered mortises through those projecting tenons and make wedges to secure the legs longitudinally. I know that may not be clear but you'll understand when it is complete. The goal is to have a really solid bench but be able to dis-assemble it if needed. I don't plan on moving in the next couple of years but I'm sure it will be appreciated when I do. Why the quick-clamp in the photo? Yeah, I had a little blow-out on my last M&T. Did I mention I don't enjoy mortise and tenon joinery?