06-27-2016, 09:09 AM
I’m finishing work on four No. 3 infills to take to the Lee-Nielsen open house next month in Maine – two in Honduran rosewood, two in Gabon ebony – and the wrinkle on the prune is that two of them come with more-or-less traditional knobs in front, displacing the “gasping fish” buns that have graced or, as some would have it, defaced my planes until now.
Here are the two in ebony:
And the two in rosewood:
The rosewood fish-mouth plane won an honorable mention ribbon last summer in the Design in Wood competition at Del Mar, and as I had plenty of leftover rosewood on hand, I decided to make another No. 3 to match the Del Mar plane more or less - meaning that the new plane would get a knob in place of the fish-mouth bun.
I had some ebony, too, and thought: Why not make yet another pair in ebony, one with a traditional bun and the other with the gasping fish mouth bun. Nick Obermeier, who makes replacement totes and buns for Stanley hand planes, helped me test maybe eight different iterations of knobs before settling on the design you see in the photos, which Nick turned for me.
The new planes were ready for testing a full two months ago – that is, capable of spitting out a decent shaving. But I wanted better; I wanted gossamer shavings. And I remembered what Raney Nelson told me some time ago – that I’d reach a point in my planemaking after which everything would be in the details.
So I sweated the details on these planes. As always, I started by reviewing every step in my work processes seeking points at which I might change this or that task in hopes of producing a substantially better plane. This meant bedding the irons against the tote so that at no point could I get an .0015 inch feeler between one and the other. It meant filing the front of each mouth at a 15 degree slant to give the wood shavings room to escape.
It meant driving to Los Angeles to buy a a fine Starrett Grade A surface plate on which I might flatten the backs of the irons and the soles of the planes. It meant laboring many days to get the finish I wanted, starting with half a dozen wet-sanded coats of Tried and True Danish Oil, followed by four coats of Tru Oil brought to a high shine with rottenstone and baby oil, and topped off with four coats of Mylands wax.
I also gave the irons identical shapes, chamfered the chipbreakers at identical angles, shaped identical brass lever caps, and milled flat areas into the curve of each lever cap on which to stamp my logo.
Was this overkill? I think not, because I like the result. Here’s what one of the planes did with some black locust, planing against the grain:
I look forward to showing these planes at the Lee-Nielsen open house.
Here are the two in ebony:
And the two in rosewood:
The rosewood fish-mouth plane won an honorable mention ribbon last summer in the Design in Wood competition at Del Mar, and as I had plenty of leftover rosewood on hand, I decided to make another No. 3 to match the Del Mar plane more or less - meaning that the new plane would get a knob in place of the fish-mouth bun.
I had some ebony, too, and thought: Why not make yet another pair in ebony, one with a traditional bun and the other with the gasping fish mouth bun. Nick Obermeier, who makes replacement totes and buns for Stanley hand planes, helped me test maybe eight different iterations of knobs before settling on the design you see in the photos, which Nick turned for me.
The new planes were ready for testing a full two months ago – that is, capable of spitting out a decent shaving. But I wanted better; I wanted gossamer shavings. And I remembered what Raney Nelson told me some time ago – that I’d reach a point in my planemaking after which everything would be in the details.
So I sweated the details on these planes. As always, I started by reviewing every step in my work processes seeking points at which I might change this or that task in hopes of producing a substantially better plane. This meant bedding the irons against the tote so that at no point could I get an .0015 inch feeler between one and the other. It meant filing the front of each mouth at a 15 degree slant to give the wood shavings room to escape.
It meant driving to Los Angeles to buy a a fine Starrett Grade A surface plate on which I might flatten the backs of the irons and the soles of the planes. It meant laboring many days to get the finish I wanted, starting with half a dozen wet-sanded coats of Tried and True Danish Oil, followed by four coats of Tru Oil brought to a high shine with rottenstone and baby oil, and topped off with four coats of Mylands wax.
I also gave the irons identical shapes, chamfered the chipbreakers at identical angles, shaped identical brass lever caps, and milled flat areas into the curve of each lever cap on which to stamp my logo.
Was this overkill? I think not, because I like the result. Here’s what one of the planes did with some black locust, planing against the grain:
I look forward to showing these planes at the Lee-Nielsen open house.