Bandsaw beckons?

The pic shows the plan for the new coffee table I'm making for the fossilised top that we bought in France last year. If you recall, the last futile effort was unceremouniously consigned to the bandsaw so after a break of a couple of months I've made a bit of progress on the second version.
It consists of four rectangular teak frames linked by a pair of 'crosses', one at the top and one at the base.
So far so good, except that all the dimensions of the fossil top are skewed...there's not one distance that's the same, which has the effect of making the construction of the two 'crosses' a tad more awkward than it might otherwise have been as all the angles are just over, or under 90deg. The lower construction is easier, as I've decided to make it out of a solid teak, but it's the top one that's causing some bother.

I'm going to do it by veneering some ply for one complete section across flats and carefully planing it in to fit (done by taking measurements and angles directly off the drawing) and then repeating for the two smaller bits, which will then be biscuited to the centre piece. The whole assembly will then be biscuited into each of the tops of the four rectangular frames.

I've always maintained that building something is as much an intellectual exercise as a practical one in that the maker has to really think their way through the project before a piece of wood has been cut or a plane iron honed...if not, then the bandsaw teeth beckon!

Raybans required...

After the last entry on the Blokeblog, you might have thought, rightly so, that I was far too aloof and immune to the detrimental effects of eye squintingly shiny tools.
Big, big mistake!

Herewith a couple of pics of my latest aquisitions to dispel the myth...a few beautiful tools from Richard Kell, namely a delightful little brass square, a superb dovetail marker (1:5 and 1:8) and the Mk III honing guide, which is now forms the basis of my sharpening system.

Any good at sums?

It has to be a fact of life that all woodworkers like tools and the shinier they are, the more we seem to like them. We're encouraged to part with our hard earned cash for what can be in some cases a pile of useless rubbish which, after struggling to make work for a few days is kicked into touch never to see the light of day again. On the other hand, there are beautiful tools produced now by several well known manufacturers, most of which are guaranteed to set the salivary glands dribbling in any half-respectable wooodworker...and I have to admit that I'm no exception. But the question should really be asked...do we really need these wonderful tools? Fabulous though they are to own, the answer is more than likely a fairly definite 'no!'

A case in point is the very humble marking gauge and similar derivatives.

One of these essential tools simply isn't enough...there you are, beavering away in quiet concentration making something delicate that requires the 'set' to be kept on a gauge for a while. If you only have one, it's a continual process of altering the set on your gauge which is a complete nightmare...you need at least six for comfortable working.

So what's the solution? Assuming that you've got bottomless pockets and can fork out humongous amounts of cash then you might like to invest in the LN Titemark gauges which are very, very guchi...six of those though would cost £456 and give good cause for SWIMBO to launch another one of those epochal, glacier melting glances in my direction, accompanied by 'the silence.' Not good, not good at all!

Faced with this dilemma, and being fairly resourceful I thought about making some out of wood...after all, it shouldn't be too hard, should it?

My first attempt was the rosewood gauge shown in the last pic. This had a solid stock with a tapered, 6mm mortise for the wedge...the first and very last time that I am going to try this sort of construction. The wedge actually bears on a saddle that sits on top of the stem, so that there's far more pressure on top as the whole thing locks solid with a gentle push of the thumb.
Then I had one of my all too rare genius ideas...why not laminate the stock in four parts with the wedge in place (suitably waxed)? It's a fairly standard method of construction for Krenovian style planes and has become an accepted part of the woodworker's armoury over the last decade or so. Once I'd ironed out all the niggles (not that there are any) it's a dead cert, cast iron, 24 carat, foolproof way to equip yourself with as many gauges as you need. The timber can be sourced from the off-cuts box and the pin is simply a masonry nail ground and polished using a Proxxon mini drill, so six really good gauges can be made for about 20p.
The other gauges shown are all made in the same way (a large panel, pencil and marking gauge)

£456 versus 20p...you do the sums!

The magic finger

I built the 'shop several years ago now and to date it's been fantastic, barring one small detail...it leaked!! During any sort of wet weather I'd have water coming in all over the place and I had the 'shop covered with a huge tarp. This was down in no small part to a faulty application of the 'finger', more precisely, a complete lack of the finger when the silicone sealant was applied...I just glooped it on straight out of the tube and didn't smooth it down, hoping it would do the job.
Wrong!!
This weekend, after having a break from the truly awful weather of the last couple of months, we've had a really pleasant weekend and I've managed to get the last few panels done so that the green tarp, which seemed to be a permanent fixture over the last eighteen months has now been dispensed with and will be transported to the dump next time I go into town in the Landy. The lesson of the finger has been well and truly learned...
Pete developed a cunning plan to shed the water off the bottom of the panels past the damp proof membrane...as you can see from the pic, there's an overlapping covering so that water won't sit on the dpc. So far, the system has worked and the 'shop is bone dry. The white bits that can be seen are in fact bits of 6mm marine ply (as are in fact all the surfaces of the panels) and you can also make out my frantic attempts to stop the ingress of the wet stuff by lathering on copious layers of black pitch...to no avail. I also had a blitz on the lower section of the 'shop by excavating all the soil from underneath the sleepers, so they should now start to dry out a bit.
Here's hoping that the finger has done it's job...

A steal from Axminster

Having sorted out most of the ongoing smaller projects in the shop, I decided last night to do a bit more on the table project that was temporarily shelved whilst more urgent jobs were tackled. I also finished off the current bits and pieces (like making the wedges) for the Kell and will just need to order a selection of lapping papers from Matthew at Workshop Heaven after which I should be set up for a full scale test of the new system, which promises to be quite interesting.

Back to the table. I'm on the third of the four end frames and I sorted out the bridle joints so I just need to skim the tenons on the router table this weekend and check that they'll all go together squarely. I'm cutting all the joints by hand using the rip toothed LN dovetail saw, which is not ideal. What I should really do, is to cycle into town to PFT and see if they've got a half respectable old tenon saw that I could re-sharpen to a rip tooth pattern, but as I do this sort of joint in teak so infrequently, to be honest, it's not justified. Normally, I'd do bridle joints on the bandsaw, but as teak is so abrasive (and I have a nice new shiny blade from Axminster on it) I opted to do it this way. Surprisingly, it's good practise in sawing straight and to a line, but joints do need a little bit of a trim to get a really snug fit.

I'm going to glue them with Titebond III, having got hold of a bottle the other day in the delivery from Axminster...nothing exciting, just various bits and pieces that need to be replaced, such as discs for the sander (plus a large lump of rubbery stuff to clean out the accumulated gunge) and another couple of packs of P2 dusk masks, as well as a Stone Devil to true the dry stone grinder.

The only thing that I did treat myself to ( and something that I should have bought years ago) is a lovely little mitre gauge, which at the price Axminster are selling it for, has to be a bit of a steal!

Global warming

I'ts been dawning on me for a while now that I've been away for several weekends doing woodworky type stuff, and SWIMBO's patience is only veneer thin...so if I were to offer just the merest suggestion that I need to go away again this Saturday, I'd get shot one of those tight lipped, narrow eyed, sideways glances that are quite capable of reducing a glacier to a gigantic puddle.
"Do you really have to?...."
"Probably not dearest, I'l just stay at home and cut the grass"...what else is there to say, if one's sanity and the status quo is to be preserved?
But I do need to get away, and therein lies the problem...but how the hell to do it?
You see, I've finished the shooting board with all the bits and pieces that I was making for my pal Tony, and they need to be delivered to Weymouth. If you recollect, I did a bit of wheelin' & dealin' at Pete's bash in early June, and the deal that was struck was for my services in exchange for a rather pleasant shoulder plane that is now surplus, as Tony has something almost identical from Konrad Sauer... (as well as one or two other offerings from that stable)
This has been a bit of a head scratcher for me over the last couple of days and then yesterday as I was cycling home on the Blokebike, I had a bolt from the blue, which I have to say, don't happen very often these days!
As it conveniently happens, SWIMBO is away on business in Germany tonight, so I've got a free evening, a window of opportunity and after a quick 'fone call to Tony, I'm off down to Weymouth tonight...result!

The pics show the completed project with the mitre shoots in place. Construction of the long mitre shoot is entirely with biscuits. Each of the mitre attachments is located on the left hand side of the board by a steel pin and held firmly against the return stroke of the plane by toggle clamp. I've used a small insert of oak to act as a wear strip (this bears on the plane sole just under the cutter) and the actual runway is made from some acrylic plastic. Both of the fences are adjustable as the countersunk screw nearest the runway is a very tight fit whilst the one at the other end is sloppy (so giving a degree of adjustment) and is tightened onto a large washer, once 90deg has been set. I also made Tony a jig to hold the blades from the LV spokeshaves which'll allow him to hone them in the Eclipse guide.

Twelve angry men...

A couple of weeks ago, I was a pondering, as I'm often inclined to do these days, on the merits of another honing system, to be more precise the Kell series of guides. It irritated me intensely that as the DMT's are so small, only half the stone can be used with an Eclipse, so it transpired that a couple of days ago at Michael Huntley's BBQ I had a chance to have another go with a Kell, but this time it was the big boy, the No3. I'd previously had a quick play with a No1 and 2 before Christmas, but for some unaccountable reason, I couldn't get on with them...they just didn't seem to want to work very well and also the rollers were sometimes running on the stone and at other times not, depending on the width of the blade being honed. I wanted a guide that was completely clear of the honing medium so that all the surface could be used...after all, if I've paid for all those diamonds it seems a crying shame not to be able to use them!
After having used the Kell III though, it was suddenly like having a 'Eureka' moment...all the shades seemed to drop away to reveal sparkling sunlight and do you know the main reason why all was bright and shiny?
I'd been trying to push (as you would an Eclipse) the Kells rather than pull them! The small wheels means that it's almost impossible to push them as you would a conventional gauge, but the Kells are meant to be used on the pull stroke only (as you would on a strop)...complete muppet that I am, I didn't realize!
The Kell III uses a series of wedges that the user has to make (details supplied on the very comprehensive instruction sheet) so that once a few have been made, it's possible to hold any blade (bar possibly a big 'pig sticker' mortise chisel) between the brass bar and the beautifully engineered registration plate. Blades are held square against two pins in the correct manner ready for honing so that this means that regardless of blade thickness, a projection say, of 18mm from the front edge of the guide will automatically give a honed angle of 30deg. All that's required is to set the right honing distance, hold the blade against the pins to ensure it's square, firmly push in the appropriate wedge...and away you go.


These guides seem particularly suited for use on a 10mm plate glass substrate, with 3M Imperial Lapping film and this is what I was using at the weekend so I've decided to switch over to this sort of honing system. Matthew Platt, who supplied the Kell III very kindly let me have a large lump of glass complete with three assorted grades of abrasive paper, which is now installed in the 'shop under a cover.

The jury's back in...and the verdict is 'not guilty'