Another Addition to the Collection...

I haven't been shy about telling the world I collect one particular 19th century toolmaker, one named H. E. Mitchell. I have researched his ancestry as well as mine, and while I haven't been able to literally put one of his in bed with one of mine, the fact that they two families trace back to the same town in Ireland leads me to believe we are related. There is also a number of other anecdotal bits of evidence to support this as well. Related or not, though, it is way cool to view a bunch of tools made 130 to 160 years ago that all display the same last name as mine.

Just this week I was able to add another counter-stamped coin to my Mitchell collection, this one advertising Henry Edward Mitchell's Edge Tool Grinding Mills, circa 1885. This one is similar to the previous one I purchased, a 10 centimes French coin, but this one struck in 1853. You can read about the previous counter-stamped coin that I purchased and what they are all about here.

(Image copyrighted by Simmons Gallery)
I bought this counter-stamped coin from Simmons Gallery
through their online auction. This is one of the most
professional companies I have dealt with to date.

While I am itching to get back into blogging, I'm not quite ready yet to start my next project so I decided to elaborate more on ol' Henry today. 

H. E. Mitchell planes were introduced to me by Jim Bode at Jim Bode Tools when he sold me an almost complete set of beading planes made by Henry. The name intrigued me so I started doing a little research and through that, contacted Gary, a very cool and knowledgeable guy who operates Toolemera. Gary didn't have any information on ol' Henry, so he gave me some advice as to where I could find some - he sent me to ancestry.com. Now I'm not sure what I did to Gary that would result in him treating me so badly, but I must have done something. While it is true that I found out more about ol' Henry than even his mother knew, the fact is, Gary fed me to the lion, the one known as genealogy.

Now I'm not sure if you are aware of ancestry, but I am sure you have viewed their many commercials and other promotions. Don't believe them. While it is true that it is quite easy to come up with 1874 census information on Henry Mitchell, what they don't mention is that there were probably 1200 other Henry Mitchells kicking around jolly old England in 1871, half of them related to each other. You have to be a real sleuth to figure out which one is which. It is mind boggling how families recycled given names through the generations back then. What is even more shocking is that, given the sad reality of the high child mortality rates back then, families had a habit of constantly reusing a deceased child's name. I have one ancestor who gave the name William to four consecutive sons. Sad. Maybe I'm blaming Gary for something he wasn't aware of. Maybe he doesn't know that when someone falls into the genealogy abyss, they really get caught up in it, similar to the way a junkie gets caught up with heroine. Maybe Gary just didn't know...or did he?

Anyway, here is what I discovered about ol' Henry...

H. E. Mitchell, Saw maker

Born:
December 5th, 1839
Regent Street, Chelsea, Middlesex, England

Source Citation: London Metropolitan Archives, Saint Luke, Chelsea, Register of baptisms, P74/LUK, Item 173


Parents:

Stephen Mitchell, full-time soldier and part time saw-sharpener

Charlotte (madden name unknown)


Baptized:

December 29th, 1839

Event took place at Chelsea St. Luke, Middlesex, England


1841 Census:

Living at 32 Blenhym Street, Kensington, Middlesex, England

Source Citation: Class: HO107; Piece 688; Book: 6; Civil Parish: Chelsea; County: Middlesex; Enumeration District: 12; Folio: 38; Page: 23; Line: 3; GSU roll: 438804

1851 Census:

Living at 9 Holland Street, Southmark, Surrey, England

Source Citation: Class: HO107; Piece: 1557; Folio: 221; Page: 40; GSU roll: 174790

Moved to Brighton:

Stephen was discharged from the army and moved his family to Brighton, England in 1851, approximately. At that time, Henry was 12 years of age.

1861 Census:

Living at 17 Kensington Street, Brighton, England

Father listed as a “Saw Sharpener”

Henry listed as a “Saw Maker”, unmarried and 21 years of age

Two brothers listed; George F. 9 yrs, Charles 6 yrs, both listed as born in Brighton

Source Citation: Class: RG9; Piece: 597; Folio: 165; Page: 17; GSU roll: 542668

1865 First Toolmakers Business:

It is believed that Henry started his first business in 1865, a saw making and tool dealership located in Eastbourne, Sussex

Henry was 26 years of age

Note that "British Planemakers from 1700" by W. L. Goodman, lists Henry E. Mitchell as starting his plane making business in 1855. This would have made Henry 16 years of age when he hung up his shingle, a tad too young even by 19th century British standards. I could find no evidence to support this claim as this, the bankruptcy, is the first true entry regarding his own business.

1868 London Gazette - Bankruptcy:

Filed for bankruptcy on February 20^th, 1868

Operating as a Saw Maker and Tool Dealer in Eastbourne, Sussex

Residential address given is No.12 High Street, Brighton, Sussex

Granted an Order of Discharge on March 5^th, 1868

1871 Census:

Living at 15 North Road, Brighton, England

Married to Mary Morton Hyland

5 children; Henry 10 yrs, Elizabeth 4 yrs, Mary 2 yrs, Percy F. 1 yr and Frederick W. 2 months

Also has servant, Edith Tanner 17 yrs.

Source Citation: Class: RG10; Piece: 1083; Folio: 46; Page: 2; GSU roll: 827499

1874 Postal Directory Listing:

Listings for Henry Mitchell’s business first appear in 1874

He is listed as being located at 4 North Road, Brighton

1874 Trades Directory Listing:

He also listed his business in the Trades Directory in 1874

1878 Trades Directory Listing:

Henry E. Mitchell is listed in the 1878 Post Office Directory

1881 Census:

Living and operating “H. E. Mitchell, Tool Maker” at 4 North Street, Brighton

His son Henry, EST. age 20, is not listed in this census, nor is Frederick W., EST. age, 10 yrs

(It was later confirmed that Henry Jr. passed away in 1877) 

Elizabeth, Mary and Percy are present, as well as Albert - 9 yrs, Edgar - 6 yrs and Violet - 3 months

Source Citation: Class: RG11; Piece: 1089; Folio: 70; Page: 1; GSU roll: 1341256

1882 Trades Directory Listing:

Henry E. Mitchell, Saw Maker is listed in the 1882 Kelly’s Directory

1891 Census:

Moved to Keymer, Sussex, England

Living at “Hatherley Villa” on Bella Vista Road

Daughter Elizabeth has married, last name now Hilton, but no husband listed at this residence but has a son, James 8 months

Violet still living with parents

Additional children; Daisy 10 yrs, Lily 5 yrs, Henry E. 3 yrs (supporting Henry C. passed) and Rose 2 months

Source Citation: Class: RG12; Piece: 793; Folio 68; Page 11; GSU roll: 6095903

Observation:

Keymer was a village north of Brighton. It was close enough for Henry to commute back and forth between his home and his business, but not without some difficulty back before the turn of the century.

1899 Trades Directory Listing:

In the Kelly’s Directory of 1899, Henry Edward Mitchell is listed twice

One listing states:

Mitchell, Henry Edward, Saw Maker and Green Grocer, 57 Coleridge Street, Hove

Change in Business Name:

In the Trades Directory of 1899, H. E. Mitchell, Saw Maker has been changed to Henry Edward Mitchell & Co. Ltd., Furnishing Ironmongers; Office & Stores, 4 North Road, Brighton

Observations:

While I have no evidence of this, I believe Henry realized that the steel plane industry was only going to take away more of his sales so he decided it was time to make a change. Two very rare examples of Henry’s ultimate baces showed a high level of metal work and I believe this craft was the specialty of Henry’s oldest living son, Frederick William. Based on those two assumptions, it is not surprising that the young Frederick took over the business on North Road in approximately 1898, incorporated it and started producing Iron fixtures for stores and offices. Given Henry’s age at the time, I don’t think he was ready to retire so he opened his combined green grocer and tool store where he continued sharpening saws, making planes and selling carrots and potatoes until he final called in quits in the latter part of 1900.

1901 Census:

Henry Edward 58 yrs, Retired Ironmonger

Living at “Hatherley Villa” on Bella Vista Road

Lily 17 yrs, Henry E. 15 yrs, Rose J. 10 yrs

Servant, Alise Spilargki 24 yrs

Lodger, Jeffery M. May 60 yrs, Living on own means

Source Citation: Class: RG13; Piece: 910; Folio: 75; Page: 16

Observation:

This is the first time Henry has used "Ironmonger" for his profession, although it is in keeping with the new direction of his business. All of the planes that I have in my collection have "Sheffield" blades in them, telling me Henry wasn't in the iron works business until his son took it over.

Death:

3^rd Quarter 1914, Keymer, Sussex, England

Markers' Marks:

H. E. Mitchell’s makers' marks start with one that simply displays, “H. E. Mitchell, Eastbourne”. When he started his second business, his new mark was "H.E. Mitchell, Brighton". Around 1875 he started to consistently display his mark as “H. E. Mitchell, 4 North Road, Brighton”. In the early 1890s he added the lion crest to the text.

Observations:

Judging by the listings in the census throughout Henry’s life, his early bankruptcy aside, he was a reasonably successful businessman. His success is proven by his ability to retire at the early age of 58, living out his remaining years as a country “gentleman” in his servant run “villa”, located in a small town north of Brighton.

His business was always listed as “Saw Maker”, but he made a number of  “Joining Tools” for the carpentry and cabinetmaker trades. He was a dedicated promoter, never missing a chance to advance his business, as shown by his listings in the different directories and his use of counter-stamped coins, the equivalent of today’s coupons.

While his tools are very rare and difficult to locate today, I have recently found examples in England, the United States, Canada and Australia. While their numbers are very limited compared to other 19^th century toolmakers’ examples, they do not command a premium in price.

Examples of Henry E. Mitchell’s Tools:

Here is a photo of my Mitchell collection as it stood in December 2010. Thankfully, I have been able to add a few more examples of his work since then.

Offer to Purchase:

If you have any examples of H. E. Mitchell tools in your cabinet, let me know what it would take to get you to part with them. If you have a saw or brace of his that you don't want to part with, I'd be forever grateful if you could send me a photo of them. My email address is mitchell@liquiddesigns.ca

While reaching out to ol' Henry's direct decedents I discovered that the vast majority of them didn't know Henry was a toolmaker. Not one of them held an example of his work, nor did they know anyone who did. My gut tells me we are related, so I am not collecting this man's work to use or as an investment. I am collecting them so future Mitchell's will know what their ancestors were all about.

Peace,

Mitchell

An Enjoyable Way To Recuperate...

Occasionally, since starting this blog, I have allowed my love for cars to creep into its posts. I don't think that is a bad thing as I don't remember meeting too many woodworkers that aren't into cars to some degree. Two that quickly come to mind are Chris Schwarz, with his restored Karmann Ghia and Jim Bode, who once was a car dealership manager. I guess it makes sense as fitting wood and messing with tools is in the same area as fitting metal and messing with engines.

I used to change cars as often as I changed my socks. As a kid, I would buy an old junker for $25, mess with it enough to make it unique and at least run reasonably, then sell it for anywhere from $100 to $200, making a small profit on most. Where I used to loose money on the deal was when I decided to swap engines, dumping the old flathead 8s (most were old Fords) for more current power plants. I didn't do this often, but when I did, I usually went overboard, which never surprised anyone. I must add here that there is no better feeling of accomplishment and power than dumping the clutch and feeling the front end of the car lift two feet into the air.

As I grew older, my income grew enough that I could finally afford to really mess with cars. The problem I had was that, to maintain that income, I didn't have the time to do a build. During this period of my life I got in the habit of changing cars every four years, instead of every four months.

When I closed my business and turned to teaching, I had the time but not the inclination to build a car. Getting my hands all grimy and burning my butt with a torch all the time no longer appealed to me, so I took another route that allowed me to still call myself a "car-guy". I started buying a car and keeping it, doing most of the maintenance myself. I kept my last car 11-years and put 350,000-km on it, or 218,000-miles. That doesn't sound impressive until you realize that I am talking about a 1995 Ford Taurus Wagon that never had a head off of it or any work done to the tranny. It probably ran better the day I sold it than it did the day I bought it.

I replaced it with a 2007 Ford Fusion, which, due to its size, my wife likes much more than the Taurus, although I miss the extra cargo area of a wagon. Given my wife is the driver in the family, it is important that she be happy with it. While on the road I'm just the navigator, but when it is sitting in the driveway, I'm the primary maintenance man, and that is the part I truly love in this arrangement. The Fusion is 6-years old now and has 130,000-km, or 81,000-miles, but with luck and a bit of elbow grease, it might surpass the life of the Taurus.

While I mainly maintain the car for my own enjoyment, the reality is, we save a fortune each year by doing so. A car takes its biggest hit with depreciation in the first four years of its life. We bought the Fusion for $32,000 and after 4-years, it was worth, retail, about $11,000. Three years later, it is down to $7,000, so you can see how much the depreciation factor is slowing. In another couple of years it will be worth $3,000, and that is where it will sit for the next four or five years. At this point in this Fusion's life, depreciation is no longer a factor in the cost of owning it. Now, the only number that counts is how much is spent on maintenance and repairs.

I believe the better a car is maintained, the less it will need in repairs, and it is the repairs that cost the money. Maintenance needs to be consistent and properly scheduled. The Fusion, like the Taurus, receives a going-over four times a year. The oil and filter is changed, using synthetic for its higher lubricating properties and its longer life. The air cleaner is changed, belt inspected, all levels checked and topped up, and the tires rotated. Once a year the radiator is flushed and refilled with new anti-freeze, the brake pads are replaced, every system is inspected, adjusted or replaced as required, and the  engine and transmission are shampooed, as a clean engine runs cooler. Every 3-years, the transmission is flushed, the gasket replaced and new fluid added (this is why the Taurus transmission lasted, unlike every other Taurus on the road), as well as replacing the fuel pump filter.

While this isn't a complete list, you get the drift. I keep the car on a consistent maintenance regiment, changing out parts before they fail so the drivetrain components and the parts they mate to are protected.

One of the things I do when I replace parts is look to the aftermarket for a better product. Because the brake pads got changed every year since the car was new, the brake rotors never needed turning as they didn't get heavily scored. While changing out the pads this often costs me more, for me, it was worth it to avoid turning the rotors as I believe once turned, they are not as effective. Now, going on 8-years of use, it is time to change those rotors out.

I don't understand why anyone would play loose and fast with their brakes. When my son came to me to ask me to help him hop-up his Scion, he asked me what was the first thing I thought we should do to it. I told him that the brakes are first, and after he could stop, then he should look at going faster. He changed his brakes out with drilled and slotted rotors with ceramic pads and then we added a supercharger, custom exhaust and other modifications. He took the car from 160hp to about 250hp, and while it will go like scat and corner like it is on rails, it has a shorter stopping distance than it had when it left the factory, and to me, that is more important than any improvements in its numbers on the track.

Searching the aftermarket, I came up with a company just outside of Toronto that produces and sells drilled and slotted rotors, as well as ceramic pads for the Fusion. I ordered a complete set, which were delivered last week. The cost of these aftermarket rotors are not much more than Ford replacement parts, but this aftermarket set-up fades less, runs cooler and as a result, stops the car in a considerably shorter distance. This last point makes any extra work and costs well worth it as my wife drives this car, not me, and if I can give her an edge to keep her safe, I'm going to do it.

Replacing the stock brake set-up with this aftermarket one is for my wife's benefit, but making them pretty is strictly for me, so before they go on, I want to paint out the areas where the pads don't touch, but the rust can grow. Obviously, I really don't need to do this, but it is just one of those little touches that makes my older car look better than it did when it was new.

Once the weather breaks, I'll change out the rotors and pads, painting the callipers with the same heat-resistant brake paint I used on the rotors. At that same time I'll swap out the summer wheels and tires for the winter ones that are on it now.

The one on the right is an untouched front rotor. The one in the
middle is a rear rotor taped for painting, while the one on
the left is a finished rear rotor, ready to install.

Given I am supposed to be taking it easy, recuperating from the instillation of a pacemaker, I can't think of a more enjoyable way to spend an hour or so a day then messing about with some car parts.

Peace,

Mitchell

I'm Way Too Young For This...

Sorry, but to be frank, I'm way too young for this shit.

Yesterday was a pretty weird day for me. It started in my family doctor's office where I went to have the stitches in my head removed. I first had to sit for ¾ of an hour with a peroxide-soaked rag on my head. The peroxide had to dissolve the gunk that covered the cut so they could find the stitches. Once the forest was cleared, it felt like they went at them with a dull knife and ripped them from my skin using fencing pliers. Wow, what an ordeal for a couple of threads.

After the nurses had finished having their go, the doctor came in. I have been a patient of this doctor for about 35-years and he is, without a doubt, one of the coolest people I know. We often compare notes on our lives during the 60s and 70s, or at least what we both can remember of those times. He came in, had a look at the nurses' handiwork, took my temperature, had a listen all around my chest and back, and then took my blood pressure. Once he was done with all of this, he then inspected the incision and the bulge beneath it to ensure that the pacemaker was still where the specialist put it. When he was all done he announced, with great gusto I might add, that I was doing "splendid" and "wonderful" and everything was "perfect".

I think he was a bit disappointed in me as I didn't clap my hands in glee and jump up and down giggling. It is not that I'm not appreciative and I do feel lucky I came through this with less aggravation and pain that what I have experienced having a root cannel, but dammit, I'm way too young for this shit.

When I arrived back home I checked the mail and there was an envelope from Biotronik, the company that made the pacemaker. Opening it, I found a plastic registration card and a covering letter.

Strangely, I am happy about the card, another one that I shouldn't leave home without. It tells the readers that I am the not-so-proud owner of a Biotronik Model 359529, Serial Number 66260638, along with the same information for the two probes that snake through my arteries and into two of my heart's chambers. It also gives my name, address and physician. I am happy to have it because if I didn't, my wife would force me to wear the t-shirt shown below for the rest of my life.

The strange part of this little package was the accompanying letter. In it, I was told to verify the personal information displayed on the card and if there were any mistakes or omissions, I should let the company know. The reason the contact information is so important is so the company can "notify (me) of new information concerning the safety, effectiveness or performance of the implant, and any required corrective action." How is that for giving you the warm and fuzzies of comfort?

I guess I should be thankful they didn't close the letter with, "...and thank you for choosing a Biotronik product."

Peace,

Mitchell

Don't Trust Mortality...

That one post that I made when I announced I was bowing out for the summer to tend to my tomatoes has really come back to bite me on the ass a few times since. Damn!

What I said at the time was, "I'm going to do my impersonation of Vito Corleone and tend to my tomatoes, sans the heart attack, I hope." Kick my butt if you ever see I've used a similar style of comment.

I started to have bouts of lightheadedness and dizziness a couple of months ago and immediately called the doctor and made an appointment to have a physical. The day before my appointment, it appears I passed out while I was out walking the dog. I just woke up flat on my back in the middle of the sidewalk with no idea how I got there. I got myself home and my wife immediately drove me to the closest emergency hospital. 

As it turns out, the electrical controls in my heart have slowly been short circuiting over the past few months and as a result, my body has been considerably shortchanged when it comes to oxygen. When your oxygen content gets too low for things to work properly, things shut down. This isn't the most serious issue in the world of medicine, but I can tell you that one of its major downsides is the lack of warning. Scares the bejeebers out of you, I can assure you.

When I hit emergency, they immediately hooked me up to a ECG monitor and whisked me up to the Cardiac Care Unit. The next day they informed me they were going to install a pacemaker and that was that. Thirty hours after I arrived I had a new little friend tucked under my skin just below my left shoulder blade and that was that. 

Oh, ya. The doctor also told me that I hit my head on the sidewalk when I passed out and it took four staples to close the gash. I don't believe her - not in the least. That crack in my skull was made by my mortality that had dropped by to introduce itself. To get my attention, the little bugger hauled off and kicked me in the head when I was already down. I'm sure of it.

Peace,

Mitchell

It's Not Nice To Screw With Mother Nature...

So I spent the summer tending my garden.

My old man was a gardener. When I was a kid, he bought a house that sat on a huge parcel of land and turned half of it into a vegetable garden. The property came with a bunch of apple, pear and cherry trees, as well as trestles full of grapes, raspberries and blueberries. He then added just about every type of vegetable that would grow in this climate. 

I can't tell you how much I hated that garden. Every spring he would push me to till the damned thing, and every spring I would have to hear the, "When I was your age working the farms..." yarn that drove me nuts. 

Fast-forward fifty years and there I was, willingly hanging on to a rotor tiller, whacking up the sod in my back yard, merrily turning it into a vegetable garden. I removed the sod, broke up the hard clay earth, mixed in sand and added sheep and cow shit to make it as comfy and cosy as I could for tomatoes, potatoes, peppers, corn and carrots, including a bit of a herb section to round it out. I weeded that bugger two or three times a week, spent a fortune watering it, spent hours trimmed things, staked others, and even made a couple of very cool looking tomato cages to make it all look more interesting and inviting. By the beginning of August we started to get a few juicy samplings as the plants started to come into maturity. This, of course, only served to make me work harder at it. I started pulling weeds more often, turning the soil between the rows bi-weekly and even started talking to them, although none of the rude buggers answered.

Come mid-August, I looked out the window overlooking the backyard and saw this...

I had noticed before I started that our property sat lower than our two neighbours', but didn't realize how low until we had a horrendous rain one Saturday afternoon. When the 5" of water finally disappeared, only two tomato plants and the impatiens that bordered it all survived.

I remember standing there, looking out that window at this lake that was once my garden patch, and hearing my old man laughing...

Peace,

Mitchell

The Eagle Has Landed...

Back at the end of August I wrote about a problem I was having coming up with a machinist who didn't want the family jewels to turn a pretty simple base of a gift I had bought for my son.

It got worse.

I went with Plan-B and solved the base problem myself, but when I took my little package to the post office to send it to him, I got the second shock of my life.

My kid now lives in Dubai for a few years, so I packaged up the gift with as much padding as I could gather up as I figured it was going to be in for a rough ride. Presenting it to the clerk who weighed it. The package came in a just under 2 kilograms, or about 4 1/2 pounds.

If I wanted it there in a hurry, they wanted $250. The Canadian Post Office's idea of a "hurry", is 3 to 4 weeks.

The next one down on the list was $85, which would take 4 to 6 weeks. I was already late with the gift so I laid down the 85-bucks and left the package.

Today, 49 days later (that is 7 weeks according to my math), the parcel finally arrived.

This is what was in it...

It is a radiator temperature gauge made by the Moto Meter Co. in, or around, 1928. The meter itself was New/Old Stock and is in perfect condition. The wings could be from the same year or older, as they came off a 1928 Chevrolet in California. The wings were in good shape as far as nicks and wear goes, but it didn't have any plating left. I sent it out and had it nickel plated, as that is what it originally would have been, as chrome didn't come into play until one or two years later.

The base is just a 4" block of polished acrylic. I drilled and tapped a hole to match the meter's sensor stud and cranked the whole lot home.

The thought behind this gift is that it is an "after-market" piece. Neither Ford nor Chevrolet offered these as either standard equipment or as an option, although you could buy one through their dealers. My son is into after-market parts. He has taken a basic Scion tC, which pumped out 160 h.p., and through the magic of his mechanical ability, not to mention his ability to pay for after-market parts, the thing is probably pushing over 300 h.p. now.

I wanted to show him that adding things to cars to make them your own didn't start when he was born, but has been around since the wheel was invented. I'm also hoping to make a "collector" out of him.

Peace,

Mitchell

I Thought Times Were Tough...

I don't get it. Times are tough, yet for some reason, I can't find a machinist that will take on a small job.

Over the years I have produced a lot of one-offs; car parts, camera parts, tool parts and just plain weird stuff. Over this same timeframe, finding a machinist has become more and more difficult.

Years ago, machinists were a dime a dozen, most working out of horribly run-down buildings in the worst parts of town. You could tell a good machinist by the amount of metal scrap he had around his building. Stepping inside a machine shop was scary as hell. The vast majority - no - all of them that I ever visited were covered in decades of dirt and metal filings with stacks of material everywhere. You entered through a decrepit door and followed a wandering aisle between the junk and machines to find and talk to the owner, a cigar smoking, unshaven, filthy-overall-covered guy who talked to you like you were the last person in the world he wanted to deal with. But deal with you he did, making the part to your exact specifications and charging you a price that matched the time and materials he spent making them.

Fast forward to today, and things are completely different. Machine shops are now housed in buildings that equal IBM's head office, thats if you get to see the building at all. Mainly you deal with them through the Internet, attaching your drawings to forms that are more unfriendly than the actual human-variety of machinist of yore. If you are lucky, they will reply. If you are really lucky, their reply will include a quote. The one thing you don't need to count on luck for, though, is that the quotes you will receive will make the project ridiculously expensive and will force you to scuttle the whole idea.

Case in point is a project I am currently working on; a birthday present for my son. I can't state what it is here yet as sometimes he surprises me and actually checks out what his old man has to say on this blog, so I can't give the idea away before I actually give the result away, if you get my drift.

I have come up with an idea for what my old man used to call, a "dust collector". A dust collector is nothing more than something that looks good but doesn't do a damned thing, a concept my old man wasn't particularly enamoured with. For this particular dust collector idea, I need two steel discs, both 3" in diameter and 1/2" thick, each turned slightly different. It also requires 1 1/2" of 2 1/2" steel tubing. Attached is a drawing of how these three pieces are to fit together.

Of the 20 machine shops I sent out drawings to, 8 replied. Two of those that replied basically stated they were not interested in the job. The six actual quotes that I did receive ranged from a low of $275 to a high of $600.

$275 to $600 for three pieces of steel that I could buy at Metal Warehouse for less than $22. One piece, the steel tubing, requires no further working once it is cut to length and the remaining two parts are ones that I could turn myself in less than an hour if I had a simple metal lathe. If I, someone who works in metal once every 8 years or so, could turn these parts in less than an hour, someone who does this day-in and day-out should be able to do it in half that time. I get that, in business, you have to get a return on your capital investments, but give me a break for God's sake. Lets say it takes an hour to make all three parts. At $275, that means the machine shop is charging $253 an hour and at $600, it becomes $578 an hour. Neither is a cost that reflects the company's investments. They just reflect gouging. No wonder work like this is going to places like China.

At first, I did Internet searches for machine shops within my geographical area, which turned out to be few and far between. Only 4 of the 20 quote requests went out to shops within the greater Toronto area. I then expanded my search to include machine shops in North America. The remaining 16 quotes went out to shops located throughout Canada and the United States. Surprisingly, out of the 8 that did respond with a quote, the most expensive were located in Texas and California. The cheapest was in Michigan while the two Canadian firms that replied came in with quotes of $325, still way to much for the work required, Canadian or not. In the end, I did send out one request for a quote to a company in China, but I haven't heard back from them as yet. I am curious what they will come in at.

Given that this is the third project that has been scuttled by machinist quotes, I just might turn my attention to finding a little metal lathe for sale on eBay, one selling for the price of the lower quote for this particular job. If one turns up, I'll buy it and turn my own parts from now on and the hell with the new age of machinists.

I have always thought that the worst enemy of capitalism was capitalists. Now I'm convinced.

Peace,

Mitchell

Yup...It's Wood...

This is the R4 Pursuit made out of Black Walnut and Port Orford Cedar by
Renovo Bicycles

Gimme A Break...

Nobody can ever say my life is boring...crazy, maybe...but it is never boring.

Over the past few weeks my wife and I have moved, my son got married, he has been transferred to Dubai and for some reason, I suddenly have a pressing desire to grow tomatoes.

Where we were living, our gas bill for the car was running over $400 a month, the mileage on the car was really racking up and my wife was spending more than two and a half hours a day commuting back and forth to work. We have been talking about finding a place closer to her office and we finally did it. We found a small house, still in Toronto, dammit, but it fits us perfectly. As a result, we hauled all our worldly possessions across town and I now spend my days unpacking and trying to figure out where to store all this shit. The good part of this is, our new abode is so close to my wife's job, she now comes home for lunch. (Get your minds out of the gutter, boys, we have been married longer than a month, remember?) We have a little plot of land out back that can, if you squint, be called a backyard and currently I am just finishing up cultivating half of it into the reincarnation of a Victory Garden. The barbies all set up beside the patio furniture, and life has suddenly become good - damn good.

With mixed emotions, I am proud and sad to say my son has been promoted and is now the big-shot chef in the Fairmont Dubai. I'm thrilled to death that he is doing so well in his chosen profession, but I'm not so enamoured with him doing it on the other side of the world. One day I would like to live around the corner from him for a change, so I can drop by occasionally an bug his butt, just for the shear joy of being able to do so. Just before he left he got married to a beautiful woman who makes him happy, so with that, and her, I'm thrilled to death.

Maybe it is the amount of work it took to pack up all my tools and other implements of destruction and get them all hauled to the new place, not to mention unpacking them, but suddenly I want a break from woodworking. That doesn't mean I'm going to stop buying tools, but it does mean I'm not going to share them with you for the next few months. Instead, I'm going to do my impersonation of Vito Corleone and tend to my tomatoes, sans the heart attack, I hope.

With all of this, I wish you a wonderfully enjoyable summer and I'll see you in the fall.

Peace,

Mitchell

Moxon, Roubo and Schwarz...

Benches and vices are all the rage today. Who would have thought that one man, Christopher Schwarz, could have such an impact on the sawdust producers of the world? It is astonishing, and more power to him. Sadly, it is quite possible that history might not give Chris the credit he deserves.

When historians, two hundred years from now, take a look back at the history of the cabinetmaker’s bench, they will see a proliferation of styles and unique designs dating back to the 17^th century. They won’t find a standard design until they move forward 400-years or so, and then wham – no more individuality. What they will find by the time their research brings them to the early 21^st century is that one man’s design becomes king. Cabinetmakers throughout the world, amateur and professional alike, suddenly started to build workbenches very similar to a design conceived by an 18^th century, French cabinetmaker and book publisher, André-Jacob Roubo. It will be a shocking discovery.

Their research will also discover that just about every Roubo bench built in the 21^st century will have a common accessory; a detachable, twin screw device known at that time as a “Moxon Bench Vice”. Again, they might miss Chris’ involvement in making this fixture such a popular shop accessory, and instead, give the credit to its original promoter, the 17^th century book printer, mathematician and publisher, Joseph Moxon.

Returning to the present, we have to take a look at these two mechanical geniuses that we try to emulate.

The oldest is Joseph Moxon, the son of a printer who was born in 1627. This guy probably never picked up a chisel or plane in his entire life. He had three interests; printing, mathematics and religion. He is, however, credited with printing the first English language book on cabinetmaking, “Mechanic’s Exercises”, publish 6-years after his death in 1691. For this, the sawdust makers of the 21^st century will forever hold him dear. Without Moxon, those that reverted back to the tools of yore would have had to start all over again, forced to use their own ingenuity to figure out the best way to use these difficult and confusing devices. Huzzah, huzzah, Joseph Moxon.

Following in Moxon’s footsteps was Roubo, an author who actually used the tools he wrote about. He was the third generation in his family to become a carpenter. Building was in his blood, it would appear, as he took his carpentry skills further by studying architecture and cabinetmaking. His most noted work today, however, is not the architectural splendors of France’s past, as all that he was involved with are long gone. Moxon’s claim to fame is a simple book he wrote called “The Carpenter’s Art”, which he had published in 1769.

Through Chris Schwarz and his own publishing company, Lost Art Press, Moxon and Roubo have been reborn. Here is a reality that I doubt even Chris realizes; Chris’ commercial endeavors with these two publications has resulted in more people having read these two works over the past five years than both Moxon and Roubo combined could ever dream of reaching in their lifetime.

Thankfully, original copies of these two works exist, but I have to ask the question, why the hell were they written in the first place?

In 17^th century England, literacy was tied, no – welded, to wealth. During this century, it is estimated that London’s literacy rate was 70 to 80% while in the rest of the county, only 20% could read, and far less than that could write. This is easy to understand as London was England’s centre for the gentry; those with the means to send their children to school, and if they didn’t have the cash, the assets to borrow against to pay the tuition fees.

Given that Moxon wrote a book on a trade, you have to wonder who the hell would read it? Somehow I don’t think the gentry were interested in frame saws and the like, and they were the only ones who could read. It wasn’t like a kid from a poor family could go off to the library and pick out a book on his chosen career, because there wasn’t any. While invoices written by carpenters and cabinetmakers exist from that time, they are few and far between. The gentry chose their tradesmen by their ability to perform, both in their trade, as well as in their communication skills. It was a class society beyond class societies, and moneybags didn’t deal with commoners, so to win their business, a cabinetmaker had to fall within the gray area between gentry and commoner, a very small group indeed. The average village carpenter or cabinetmaker could neither read nor write, and didn’t miss it throughout their lifetimes.

France, in the 18^th century, wasn’t much better than England in the 17^th. Their class society was slower to decipitate, so illiteracy, while no more or less than it was in England, stayed constant for longer and was more difficult to overcome. This meant that Roubo had the same problem finding an audience for his book in France that Moxon faced in England. Great books, but who the hell could read them, let alone wanted to?

So here we are, three to four hundred years later, religiously following two geniuses that wrote books for audiences that probably didn't exist at the time. Go figure.

…and no, this isn’t a trashing of Moxon, Roubo or Schwarz. It is just an observation of mine developed from my own followings of Christopher Schwarz and my own interest in the history of England. I, like the vast majority of you, am in the midst of creating…

This is my interpretation of a Moxon Bench Vice. I made it from two honking slabs of hard maple, each 1¾” thick and two walnut screws. I got a great deal on these two screws from Evans Toolworks on eBay. Matthew was a lot of help to me, accommodating as all hell and a real pro to work with. We have a little something in the works right now that you might find interesting which I’ll post about when it gets done and, of course, if it actually works. I do know that he will be the supplier of the multiple screws I will need for the short-leg and tail vices I plan to build in the near future.

I built this to use while building my new bench/tool cabinet, so it is sized to accommodate panels up to 28” wide. As I think having a steel clamp-head sticking up higher than the top level of the vice is crazy, I cutout the tops of the rear panel’s ends so the clamps can be brought down lower. I have the handles to deal with, along with a couple of braces for the stabilizer that is attached to the bottom of the rear panel, another hunk of maple, this one 1” x 5”. I plan to use these braces to not only strengthen that right-angled joint, but to enlarge the surface area for the heads of the clamps that hold it to the bench. I’ll do a proper post about it all when I get it finished.

Peace,

Mitchell

Vintage Woodies Is Slowly Growing...

My second site, Vintage Woodies, is slowly growing. Last month I was able to post information I had gathered about Hollows and Rounds Planes and this morning I posted my first instalment about Bead Planes.

The biggest impediment to getting a handle on old wooden planes, or any other category of tools, for that matter, is the educational material available. I haven't found one yet that didn't raise more questions than it answered. I think most authors write with their feet in their own shoes, and not their readers'. As a result, they assume because they know something, all their readers do as well. Aww, duh? If I knew it, I wouldn't be reading your damned book.

The second issue is an inability to correlate content. Wow, do these books bounce around a lot. One minute their discussing Ovolos, and before you realize it, you just read two paragraphs discussing Ogees. Damn.

Then there are the illustrations. In the text, they will call a plane by its most common name, say, a Reverse Ogee. When you go off to find the illustration of it, it turns out to be labeled by it's second name, a Back Ogee. What the hell...

I shouldn't complain, should I? We all pay good money to read what these authors know while my knowledge is worth exactly what I get for it - nothing.

One thing did surprise me, though. After finishing posting for the day, I checked Vintage Woodies' stats. For the limited information available, there seems to be a considerable amount of interest. It would appear that over 2,000 woodworkers visited the site last month, with almost as many dropping by so far this month.

The one thing that doesn't surprise me, however, is out of the thousands that have taken advantage of the work posted, not one has contributed a word for its content. It would appear I'm on my own with this one.

Peace,

Mitchell

When You Say It Will Never Happen...It Will...

I love looking at old tools, in my hand or in photographs, it doesn't matter. Because of that, I look forward to receiving Martin J. Donnelly Antique Tools' biweekly tool listings. There are always packed with the coolest tools out there and the biggest buzz is that I can try and buy the ones I like.

In the preamble that lead up to their Indianapolis Spring Antique Tool Auction that took place the end of last month, there was a Stanley No.51 listed. It had a chipped mouth at the lower corner and it appeared that someone might have re-japanned it. It's saving grace was that the bare metal looked clean and unpitted. A true user if there ever was one. As I have seen examples of this plane that were in far worse shape than this one go for more than 300-bucks, I placed an absentee bid that I thought was absolutely whacko and would never win.

A couple of weeks later, there was a listing for a Stanley No.72 Nose Section. In all the auctions and dealers listings that I have looked at over the past six years or so, I think I have seen maybe three other regular nose sections listed on their own. Thinking, what the hell, I placed another absentee bid that I thought was way below what it should bring.

Guess what?

You got it!

Have a look at my latest acquisitions...

I have no idea what happened at that auction, but they both came in below what I thought were a crazy bids.

The No.51 isn't bad, so I think I'll keep it around for a while and put it through its paces.

As it turns out, the No.72 Toe Section is "good", or maybe even "good +". The wood is great and, thankfully, the rest hasn't been beaten to death. It also has about 70% of its original japanning left.

What really makes it sweet, though, is this...

That's right...it is a "B" casting.

There are two other facts about this piece that I would like to mention...you can buy it, or you can trade me a No.72 bull nose for it. Now how great is that?

Peace,

Mitchell

COMING SOON...

Stay tuned. The "Fight of the Century" is coming soon!

My New Rock And Roll Saw...

My next major project is a new combo tool cabinet come bench. I have everything for it worked out on paper so I am now in "collection" mode; finding the materials and specialty tools needed to get the thing built.

I posted about this design back in June of last year and I'm mentioning this now because the design is in the Campaign style and I wanted you all to know that I was working with this style long before Chris Schwarz started his campaign build. 

The design calls for drawers and lots of them, all installed in multiple carcass cases that will make up two storage units each made up from stacking three carcass cases on top of each other. The bottom case for each will be 11" high, one for a saw till and the other for other high items, and the remaining two cases in each will be 7" high each with its own unique number of drawers. With them stacked on the base stand and the bench top placed across them, I'll end up with a bench at proper height. The reason for this type of design is its versatility. I can stack them as explained for a workbench, or I can do away with one of the bases and stack them all together on one base. The design will also allow me to change the stacking order to best suit my work habits, or to suit my mood, whichever the case may be.

As each pair of drawers in the individual cases will require a divider, and I can't think of a better joint to use for them than a sliding dovetail. I love this joint as it is strong and seeing a dovetail on the end of a wide piece is just downright cool. I made them all the time when I worked with a table saw, but not so much now that I'm a tool pusher. They are both complicated and a hell of a lot of work to make by hand. The blind variety are also a royal pain in the butt to make. With that in mind, I have been working with Matt Cianci over on The Saw Blog on coming up with a new saw design, one specifically designed for cutting the two sides of all the blind sliding dovetails this project calls for.

While sliding dovetail saws are not something new, our design does have a few unusual features.

One of the biggest problems with cutting a blind sliding dovetail across a carcass wall is that the toe of the saw always digs in and makes a royal mess of things. Doing some experimenting, I came up with the idea that if the saw's plate was arched, the digging in problem could be overcome. By giving an 11" long plate a 58" radius, it ends up arching up ¼-inch front and rear. Using the centre section to cut across the wider width of a carcass, the toe will not be able to bury itself during the cut. If the cut is blind, tilting down the heel of the saw as you go deeper will keep it from nose-diving and when the majority of the cut is done in this manner, you can tilt the heel up and use the toe to finish it off blind.

As the two cuts need to be equal in depth, I figured a depth gauge would be just the ticket so I came up with a design for a curved one to match the curvature of the blade's arch. I then took a page from the old filletster planes and came up with an adjustable setup. I think the design will allow me to cut pretty accurate depths whether cutting across the board, or tilted up while cutting the blind with the toe. I designed the gauge to also work as a fence, planning to have it run up against the cleat instead of the blade. I just think this will be easier to work as there will be some distance between my hand and the cleat, keeping the skin on my knuckles in the process, not to mention saving the saw's set for another day.

Matt was a lot of help to me coming up with the handle's "hang", or angle of attack. At first I had it set to 34º, but Matt suggested it would be too difficult to work and suggested I bring it down to 24º, which is still higher than a normal handle hang. We did agree on the placement, though, as bringing it forward so the grip is over the heel of the saw will help to keep it against the cleat.

Wanting the thing to look good as well, I decided on making the body out of zebra wood and the handle and horn out of ebony. I think these two woods work well together with their strong contrast in tones.

The result of all of this is that Matt is now looking for an old piece of .028" plate stock and I'm sourcing out a place to buy a hunk of ebony that won't cost me more than what I paid for my last new car.

The project should be fun to put together, but with a total cost probably in the $250 to $300 range, I sure hope the damned thing works.

Peace,

Mitchell

Forget About Shooting Boards...Get A Boarding Shoot...

I can hear it now, “What the hell is that boy on about now?”

I can tell you that a little knowledge is a very dangerous thing; sometimes it proves that nut-jobs like me can often be correct.

A while ago I was thinking about having a plane built, even though the five grand cost was giving me heart palpitations.  The problem I had was that I don’t like the ergonomics of a regular plane. I think the tote is set too high and isn’t cocked forward enough. I wrote about this a while ago and got the usual responses – yawns.

I took this further and emailed two well-known plane makers asking if they would consider tilting the tote forward and making it lower. The first wrote back explaining to me why planes are built like they are, like I didn’t know this. I wrote back and explained the theory behind my thoughts; the higher totes give a higher centre of gravity and result in more difficulty keeping it square to the board edge and the considerably upright tote causes the wrist to be cocked at an unnatural angle when the plane is held at the correct height, again adding to the difficulty in keeping the plane properly square, especially when planning a lot of board feet. He never replied a second time.

The other plane maker I wrote to didn’t even bother to reply the first time. Go figure.

So I decided maybe all of you were right, I was a nut-job, so I forgot about it and went back to my books on wooden planes.

Lucy, you got some ‘splainin to do.

Did you know that totes are a relatively new addition to planes? They weren’t very popular until metal planes came around. As far back as the 16^th century, woodworkers were holding their planes pretty much by their bodies, as no tote existed. Son-of-a-gun if holding a wooden bench plane by its body suddenly brings your hands down much lower than when you are holding a contemporary Stanley. Even a 22 to 28” wooden jointer came toteless, but if the wuss pushing it was worried about breaking a nail, the maker would add to horizontal handholds to the sides of the body, again way lower than the totes on contemporary planes.

So why did the plane evolve in this way?

Personally, I think they ended up with a high tote simply for ease of manufacturing. Show me an item that has been produced for years and I’ll show you an item that was redesigned simply to reduce costs. This is what “New and Improved” is all about you know. Change something that will trim a quarter of a cent off of the cost of making each widget and it truly is “new and improved”. The manufacturer has “improved” profits and a “new” cash cow.

Some may say, “if it wasn’t right, no one would buy it”. Oh boy.

The truth is, many items are not accepted right away. Plastic is the main one that I can think of right now.  It was first invented in 1862 and was called Parkesine. It then evolved into Bakelite around 1897. Tell me, how many 100 year old items have you seen on the Antiques Roadshow that are made from plastic, and costume jewelry doesn’t count, as that was about the only commercial application for this stuff for years?

PVC was introduced in 1926, but how many pre 1950 homes have you been in that have plastic pipes?

Plastic has been used in auto production pretty much since their inception, but not where the buying public could see it. Up to the late 1940’s most car heaters were seen under their dashboards so the manufacturers had their outer cases made from steel. As soon as the design of the dash was large enough to hide them, poof, they became plastic components.

So why would making the tote more upright help reduce production costs?

If the tote tilted forward more, it would have to be mounted further back as the frog has priority for position. Add an inch or two to every plane Stanley made over the years and you just spent the equivalent of Rockefeller’s wealth. Now add the cost of increased material for the tote because tilting it forward slightly means it has to be longer. If you think about this idea from this angle, you can quickly understand why they would push for a more perpendicular tote.

It also boils down to the purpose of the tool as well. A cabinetmaker that never left the shop bought the same planes as the house carpenter who moved from job site to job site. That meant that the limited number of plane styles had to be as versatile as possible.

Don’t get your knickers in a knot as I’m not knocking the contemporary plane. I can understand why it exists in the form that we know today. I just think we should be allowed to question their design without feeling the need to head to the confessional afterwards and the need to make amends by saying a few hundred “Hail Marys”.

So while I’m being sacrilegious, let me discuss my new thought about Shooting Boards.

When the machine took over from the hand tools, the biggest difference was the way the stock was worked. With hand tools, the stock remained stationary and the tool was passed over it. With machines, the tool remained stationary and the stock was passed over it. A novel idea? Not really.

Everyone knows about the Cooper’s jointer. A behemoth plane that came in different sizes up to 6’ in length with up to 4” wide blades. Some of these monsters tipped the scales at 125 pounds or more. Some were equipped with clamps to clamp one end to the bench and others were fitted with legs on one end. Whichever style, the blade’s edge always pointing towards the high end. The cooper would pass the stock over the plane to get an even fit, although not necessarily a tight fit.

To explain my comment, “not necessarily a tight fit”, there was a fellow who was rebuilding his wood boat at the same time I was rebuilding mine. As the boats were very similar, we used to compare notes. One day I noticed how tight he was setting his bottom planks together and mentioned that he should leave a small space, about a 1/16^th of an inch between them. It was the last time he really talked to me as he thought I didn’t have a clue what I was talking about.

When it was time for him to float, I quietly mentioned to my wife that we should keep an eye on it over the next 48 hours as I felt it was going to sink. Sure enough, the next day, the alarms were sounded and there was a big rush to get the boat lifted out of the water, not a task that can be done quickly with a 40-foot boat. They managed, and I give the guy credit because he came around the next day and apologized to me for thinking I was an idiot.

The bottoms of these boats are planked with 1-inch thick by 6 to 8-inch wide mahogany. When mahogany gets wet, it expands, as does all wood, but mahogany expands much more than others. It is the reason they use it to make boats. The mahogany expands, forcing the edges of the planks together tightly to make a watertight hull. Because this guy didn’t leave any allowance for that expansion, the planks expanded and with nowhere to go, they sprung their fasteners and opened huge gaps in the hull.

The cooper’s jointer wasn’t the only tool made that remained stationary. The lowly Spill plane was another. Often fixed to a bench or hearth, stock is pushed across its blade to produce tightly coiled shavings that were used to light the fires for cooking and heat.

One feature of old wooden planes that isn’t acknowledged much these days are the jigs and soles of some of the specialty planes. When using a Slat plane, the rough sized stock was placed in a trough that was attached to a bench. A special plane that had its blade and sole profiled to the final lines of the venetian blind slat was then used to bring the stock into shape. When the plane bottomed out on the edges of the jig, the first side was completed. The stock was then flipped, but before it was placed back into the jig, an insert was added first to keep the stock level and to raise it slightly. The plane was employed again, and once it bottomed out the second time, the slat was finished and ready to be cut into lengths.

Another plane similar to the blind slat plane was the Tambour plane, another specialty plane that again worked within a jig and held a profile to make tambour slats for roll top desks.

You don’t read much about jigs and specialty planes these days, do you?

So finally realizing that I wasn’t the first one to come up with these crazy ideas, I went back to the drawing board regarding my shooting board.

One of the problems I have had with all the boards I have played with is keeping the side of the plane against the runner. Because the resistance varies as the plane moves across the end grain, keeping the plane square to the stock is sometimes a chore. So what if things were reversed? Would it be any easier to move the stock across the plane, rather than the plane across the stock?

I think so.

I base this idea on the panel sleds I used to build for my table saw.  Laying a large piece of stock on a sled allowed for far better control for the cut. I think that same concept would work well for a shooting board as well.

By fixing the stock to a sled that is controlled by guides that allow it to neither move laterally or vertically, the end of the stock remains at right angles to the bed. If the plane is also fixed so its blade is square with the bed, you can’t help but produce a perfect cut. Tilt the entire table and you now have no need for a bird’s nest as the stock will be presented to the plane’s blade at whatever angle you choose. You could shoot short boards for joining with something like this, as well as true up cuts. I think you could even add moulding blades to a setup like this to make mouldings.

At issue right now is that this setup would require a feeding mechanism, and that I haven’t figured out yet. A machinists’ feed is far too heavy for this application, and would make the feature of a tilting table difficult, if not impossible, just by their sheer size alone.

I’m working on it, though, and if I get one that works, I’m going to call it a Boarding Shoot.

Peace,

Mitchell