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#1 ·
A daydream, a tool chest and a blue shed

I set myself the project of making a chair from a tree without the use of electricity or machine tools around a year and a half ago - and recorded some of my thoughts as I did so. Since joining LJs, I felt that others might like to read my 'story' of the non-electric chair. The story is still ongoing; additional video clips and images can also be found here

A DAYDREAM, A TOOL CHEST AND A BLUE SHED



I don't remember which came first - the fantasy or the tool chest, but the shed came later.

Maybe the tool chest came first. It's a cabinet maker's kit of tools from around 1890 in a tool chest which is specially designed. I bought it from a customer and restored it and its contents a couple of weeks later - but more about the tool chest later.

Perhaps the idea came to me while I was involved in this and daydreaming while the paint stripper took effect on the outside of the chest. Perhaps paint stripper has more to it than it says on the tin …… anyway I started thinking again about islands.

Islands are intriguing and if you have read a bit about them you may, like me, have mixed feelings about living on one. I suppose islands first came to my notice when there was one sitting right in front of me. I left school when I was 17 and joined the New Zealand Shipping Company as a Deck Cadet on MV Rakaia; a Cadet Ship.

We usually sailed from The Royal Albert docks in London. The Rakaia got priority treatment in the Panama Canal as we were usually carrying Royal Mail and, after steaming for another week or so, we would arrive at Pitcairn Island in Mid Pacific and drop off their mail.
The Rakaia would sit off shore, drifting slowly with engines off and eerily quiet without the pounding of the pistons, while we were rewarded with a grand stand view of the island. We (the cadets) were not allowed ashore by the islanders. We were given various uncomplimentary reasons for this by our superiors, but I decided that as no-one was allowed ashore, whatever was supposed to be wrong with us applied equally to the people higher in the pecking order on board. Only the two deck boys were lower than us. One of them on one occasion sat for an hour or two in a life boat on the boat deck clutching a condom on the understanding that, yes we would get ashore and, yes there were Polynesian women there with grass skirts.

The islanders came out in their open boats - tanned, raggedy, chattering and shouting to each other - and bare footed; the only people in the world with webbed feet, according to one of the London Dockers. Their boats were loaded up with bananas and pineapples which they exchanged for household goods and Seventh Day Adventist Tracts which they handed out freely (these probably floated back to land on the next tide). They also had carvings of flying fish and birds, which they made from wood found on neighbouring Henderson Island. Each of these had a stand with the name of the carver stamped on it - Made by someone Fletcher or Christian reminded you that this was where the mutineers and some Polynesians landed up after dumping Captain Bligh and his colleagues (1787). The mutineers fell out when they arrived here - murder and mayhem ensued and the Bounty was burned, before things settled down and the islanders found out about growing fruit and vegetables, keeping bees and selling stamps worldwide. Little was heard of them until recent revelations emerged about dark doings in this small community which we don't even want to think about.

Pitcairn is very fertile, it's a tiny rock in mid-Pacific and by its sheer insularity it attracts all nearby clouds and gets more than its fair share of rain. They can get several crops each year.

As the engines started up again, the remaining tracts went over the side and our banana eating competition would have started and, although these are not big bananas, 32 small bananas is still quite a record to beat without stopping. We didn't give a thought to the mutineers as they first made landfall a couple of hundred years before and to the arguments that were to take place, despite the idyllic setting.

There are lots of tales about Westerners going to faraway islands and falling out but Robinson Crusoe just had to get on with it, at least until Man Friday came along.

Robinson Crusoe is the archetype and I could just picture him discovering a tool chest like mine as he strolled along the beach one day. There it would be; washed up on the sand - a complete set of 19th century cabinet maker's tools. It would have been protected from the sea water by a covering of tarred canvas, otherwise many of the tools would have been ruined…… or maybe it would be conveniently attached to some floating spars that had come adrift before the boat broke up. Anyway, just imagine his delight as he goes through the trays and discovers the range of tools; lifting them out and laying them carefully on the sand, muttering excitedly as he realises the possibilities. These tools are very robust and if they had been carefully used and maintained by the "chippy" (ship's carpenter), Mr Crusoe could have been using them right away.

So one thing led to another and soon I thought of my current shed at Lethenty Mill and its relative isolation amongst the trees, its leaky roof and lack of electricity - suddenly these things become attractive. It's not on an island exactly but it is on a spit of rough ground with carefully tended agricultural land on either side (land that produces grain that was once milled at Lethenty Mill).

The more I thought about it, the site is bigger than a garden (2-3 acres) and smaller than Pitcairn but it is similar to an island, bounded on one side by the Lochter Burn. The burn provided the motive power for the water wheel which drove the machines that ground the grain at Lethenty Mill.

An ISLAND, a TOOL CHEST and a SHED (that needs to be extended and reroofed); not a bad start for a project about making a chair from a beech tree stunted by lightning and using only hand tools - well away from the temptations of a fully equipped workshop. What would it be like to make furniture with the tools from the tool chest with no electricity - only my own motive power?

 
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#2 ·
An interesting narrative, it will be interesting to see the pictures and process of building the chair. A workshop island surrounded by seas of grain? :)
 
#3 ·
My hoped-for end result

I thought it would be interesting for other Lumberjocks to see what it is that I am attempting to achieve. The image below is a chammer carver chair; it is the fifteenth project in the Lethenty Mill furniture making course. (Apologies for the small image - I don't currently have a better one.) In this blog, I am attempting to make a chammer carver chair by hand, i.e. without the use of electricity or machine tools.

 
#8 ·
The Island



The "Island" is the land that accompanies Lethenty Mill. It stretches from its widest part at the Mill to
its narrowest about half a mile up the Lochter Burn. It used to be very important to the Mill; water was collected in a long narrow channel leading to a dam near the Mill, and it could be released into a variety of channels under and around the Mill which were arranged to feed the water to the two water wheels or back into the water course (the Lochter) if the system was full and liable to overflow.

Several pages of the title deeds of 1886 spell out the mill-owner's responsibility to open the sluices when flooding was imminent and there was a risk of neighbouring fields being inundated.
It must have been impressive when the system was in operation - the dam water surging into the channel, the mill wheels creaking into life, the grinding wheels rumbling in the ground floor and the various augers clattering away as grain was moved around the building.

The swans on the dam would make for dry land and the mill cats would ready themselves for attack as mice appeared from the most unlikely places. Most of the doors in the mill had holes in them to allow the cats complete access to all the floors.

It's said that you never completely get rid of the grain in an old mill and it's true, there are still pockets of oats and barley despite your best efforts at getting rid of them. When I bought the Mill in 1983 the mill wheels were long gone, the water channels had been removed or filled up and the dam and its channel had been filled with hundreds of tons of builder's rubble and debris. The Victorian system for providing water power was unrecognisable and the swans and cats had moved on long ago.

Changes had been made in the century after 1886 - I suppose the Mill became busier and the dependence on water power from the Lochter became more critical. A large steam engine was installed in a new granite building either to back up or replace the main mill wheel, and a chimney towered over this extension. All this is gone now as well.

Then electricity was brought in and an enormous Ransome's grain drier installed in the 1950s. All this was silent and rusting when I took over the derelict buildings in 1983 and I made a deal with a local scrap merchant - " Could you remove it and we'll call it quits"
We moved from our previous workshops in the Old Brewery, Oldmeldrum and gradually restored the Mill, installing woodworking machinery, continuing to make and sell furniture and a few years later converting one corner into a house on 4 floors.

The "island" or "the site" as we call it has stayed much the same; the trees providing perches and homes for the growing families of birds, from tree creepers to Sparrow Hawks. Robins and Pheasants come within talking distance and it's still a surprise to see a heron languidly lifting its great sails into the skies.

Now and again deer graze in the rough grass and this is a great privilege, as is the presence of badgers in the river bank even though they undermine the willows which hold the bank together. I saw a black otter slide out of the river one afternoon a few weeks ago and troutlike it sneaked along the bank to disappear. Moles, water rats, frogs and of course rabbits live here and all are welcome except the last ones.

Then there are moths, dragonflies and butterflies in the warmer weather and worms and beetles etc etc. We don't use chemicals on the ground and I have always felt that this "island" was a safe haven for local creatures of all kind ( except rabbits which help themselves to the garden) I have built a frame to keep the birds away from our fruit and veg - there are wild cherries (geans) and raspberries for them ! The garden is situated between the Mill and the Blue Shed and, unlike the Pitcairners, we are grateful for one crop a year.
 
#10 ·
In Which We Get Down To Work

You may be wondering when I am going to stop daydreaming and get on with making a chair. The short movie that I produced to accompany this entry provides a 'short-cut' to the main action!



It's just that I know that some people are going to ask "What's the point in making furniture by hand?" and I think that it's difficult to explain, I certainly can't put it in a sentence. I have read entire books by people who have tried to answer this question ( e.g. David Pye - "The Nature and Art of Workmanship", he is not afraid to try and his theory about risk and design is fascinating ) Maybe, if I was pushed, the best I could come up with would be "try it ! Then you'll see" and although I know that that's not a satisfactory reply it may be the quickest and the best explanation for the appearance of these articles - If you don't want to try it just now, watch it being done in the photos and movies on our website …….. and read the text and maybe you'll feel more like trying it. I've been designing and making furniture for 30 years and showing other people how to do it and learning any way that I can; but I think I would need a whole book to explore why I do it and I think that this way might be the best; hopefully more people will still be there at the end of it. And another thing; it's like explaining a joke - it loses a lot in the telling.

So you now know about the island - a little about the shed, and a little about the tool chest. I will say more about the shed and tool chest later.

Now is the time to cut the tree down. At the time of cutting, it's February and even if the wood is slabbed now it's going to be months before the components will be dry enough to assemble as a chair. I can go on about the shed and the tool box while the wood is drying, gradually working on the components at the same time. My son, Matthew, has been press ganged into activity and is holding up the two handed saw, which is protected by a pine cover.

The tree I have in mind is a beech which has been struck by lightening. It's about four metres of stump that is going to rot from the top down - it may already be badly discoloured, so now is the time to find out. There is still some life in it; there's a branch sticking out of the top. Just a word of advice here, it's not advisable to cut trees down, even if they are your own, without asking the Local Planning Department first. (Pity this isn't standard practice in Brazil and the Philippines too.)

Now I come to a difficulty with the Toolchest idea. The Toolchest I have contains bench tools as you will see later. It would be hard to see how a two-handed saw could be part of a cabinetmakers kit, far less how it could be fitted in the Toolchest. Let's just say that it is consistent with the overall intention - It's not a chain saw; so just to get this out of the way now, the same applies to the other tools that are needed to get the basic materials for the chair before they get to the bench - scythe, spade, adze, wedges, hammer etc.

So off we went to cut this stump down - the blade of the two-handed saw was protected by a wooden sheath. I don't know where I got this saw from but it is by Sandvik and I expect that it is about 100 years old. I have emailed Sandvik for more information but their records only go back to the 1950s and they have been making saws since 1880. So my guess is as good as theirs. Before using the saw, I gave the blade a good wax and rubbed some more on it each time we stopped for a break. The other saw, which I have sneaked in, features in a tool catalogue by Tyzack from 1908 - it's a Disston and hardly ever been used, it can be converted to a 2-handed saw by the addition of another handle.

BOTH THESE SAWS WERE WELL SHARPENED BEFORE WE USED THEM and I can't exaggerate the importance of that, the tree was sawn through from both sides in half an hour and the experience was pleasurable. The first cross-cut when the tree was felled took 10 minutes or so. I don't expect to convert the world of loggers and potential loggers to throw away their chain saws and do it manually! The point I would make is that careful sharpening is essential for any hand tool, and if anything I was, yet again, surprised by the efficiency of this antique. A very important aspect of any job like this is clearing your feet before starting. We had to dig away the ground, as we were on a bank, to give good stances for working, we also had to clear away branches overhead and low branches from the tree itself.

Remember the 2 -handed saw cuts in either direction (the teeth are sharpened equally on both sides) and both operators should be pulling one after another. It is interesting to note that when you use a saw like this to fell a tree you can hear what is happening - the creaking and cracking gives you more warning of its impending fall and more time to get out of the way!

The problem that crops up with both these operations; felling and cross-cutting is the cut closing on the blade just before you're through, with felling there is another issue and that is; where do you want the tree to fall ?

This is not a lesson in how to fell trees only a "serving suggestion" but both these questions are answered by using the technique of making your first cut low on the side you want the tree to fall and the second cut slightly higher on the opposite side. It's the same technique when using an axe, but, in passing, I think it's unlikely that anyone could have felled that tree in half an hour with an axe.

When you are cross cutting it is essential to get a pivot under the tree at or near the cut, to open the cut as the remaining wood weakens, not to close on the saw and jam it. If you do jam it you will still need to lever open the cut to release the saw.

 
#13 ·
Cleaving Wood (part 1)

So far the tree has been felled and the trunk has been cut into suitable sections. The chair I am going to make is Project 15 in the Lethenty Mill series of furniture making projects; the back legs are actually 900mm high, so the sections of tree need only be 1m long (to allow for shakes and discolouration on the ends when dry), however I am going to play safe and go for 1100mm.

This blog installment is quite detailed, if you just want a quick overview of what I'm doing, have a look at the video clip produced to accompany this section.



Some trees are inaccessible to motorised equipment or are simply not worth the effort for a variety of reasons. Some of these trees are worth the effort of felling and cleaving. Why bother? Well I think I'll just discuss cleaving or "riving" and let you decide.

First of all, chain saws…. Yes, they are good for this kind of small scale operation, but the chain fitted to a conventional chain saw has its teeth sharpened at the correct angle for cross-cutting not for ripping, so you need another chain saw for ripping or a replacement blade if you are going to rip along the length of the trunk. You can cut along the grain in cross-cut mode satisfactorily but the butt must be little longer than the blade, alternatively you can cut from both ends and join up by splitting it through.

Some years ago I bought a Forester chain saw mill and we were able to rip boards from butts which had collected in the yard but it was slow and required two trained operatives. I also installed an antique saw mill (see picture, right), which had a 42" Yankee (replaceable tooth) saw blade and was driven by a 28 horse motor.

Without explaining the inadequacies of these systems from our point of view, let's just say that "Woodmiser" portable bandsaws were coming into vogue then and offered greater efficiencies. I sold the chain saw mill and we continued to use the antique saw mill for a year or so "to cut up the scraps" (i.e. I didn't want to get rid of it - it had been a big job installing it, it was fun and it still worked).

So, for a small operation like ours - determined to use local hardwoods and commercially driven - hiring the Woodmiser was the answer when enough timber had piled up in the yard.
The narrow blade cuts efficiently with less waste than conventional sawmilling and when you are converting tree trunks with their round cross sections into narrow boards, waste really does matter. Sawmilling wastes more than half the available tree (well, it does in our experience). The trees are relatively small hereabouts and have not been grown in any consistent way, i.e. they have not been forested.

They can be knotty, twisted and bent. Once we dug out a horseshoe from an ancient Yew, but more commonly it's the barbed wire that halts proceedings.

So, if sawing is about fairly predictable board production using available machinery then cleaving is about splitting wood by hand, using wedges and a sledge hammer - and the boards are not predictable! We are entering the territory of the sculptor.

Cleaving is an old fashioned way of doing it. Lengths of timber should be as short as possible - tailored to the job - but taking into account the difficulties of stacking and drying lots of different lengths of wood, it's probably best to stay with a convenient length for all the pieces and cross-cut them later (so I opted for 1.100mm).

The froe is an ancient implement for splitting wood but is designed for splitting short lengths of no more than 300mm for roofing shingles etc.

The timber must be knot-free whether you are using a froe or wedges. It's tempting to try splitting timber with a knot in it (I've tried it) and to cut a long story short - avoid knots!

So, now you start looking at timber in a different way, you look at trees in a different way. Instead of asking "How many planks can I get out of it?" you think "How many chair components can I get out of it?".

Some Cleaving Suggestions: Leave the cut sections of the tree trunk for a few days and radial cracks will appear in the ends - these indicate the best way to split the log.

After putting on the safety boots and making sure you are standing on clear ground (no branch wood or loose stones), cut away overhanging branches. Casual bystanders will probably gather on the day to mutter and generally put you off. Dogs will tear around with long branches. Move them all to a safe distance.

Don't try to do this without having at least three wedges. You will need a particularly sharp wedge just to get the crack started. Put the wedges into the side of the log not the end, one after another, as the crack opens up. Sometimes putting the wedges close together prevents the wood from splintering too much.

Don't try this on a cross-section of greater than 450 - 500mm at least for a start. Oak and ash will be easier than beech or elm. Wedges need to be long, say 200 - 300mm.

Take aim by dropping the sledge hammer carefully on the wedge for the first tap or two and get your stance right before giving the potential chair any serious consideration.

A saw is handy to sever the fibres (splinters) that prevent the cloven wood from coming apart.
Try it and learn: Sawing with a machine is a controlled operation - you decide to quarter saw or cut through and through and then you start it up and do it. The boards are as you planned and as you expected. Cleaving is not like that; the tree dictates how you cut it, to an extent, but because of this the wood is more predictable - in the way it dries and how it can be used.

My objective was to get wood that was quarter cut but as this is also the way that the log wants to split as it dries - from the centre out - this is not easy. (For those who have done this before; a natural radial crack is also what bench joiners call a shake; a serious flaw which must be avoided - so there's no point in studiously quarter-cutting if the billet includes a shake.) Compromise will be necessary, waste will happen; it's just that quarter cut wood will be the most stable in the long run.

I will come back to this when I start to subdivide these ragged lumps - at least a lot of the stresses are now out of them and they can be transported back to the shed.

 
#14 ·
Cleaving Wood (Part 2)



In the tool chest I have a collection of antique tools which is comprehensive enough for me to be able to take squared off, straight pieces of wood, make them into chair components and then make them into a chair. I will discuss the contents of the chest in a couple of chapters, but the problem at the moment is how to produce the straight pieces of wood! We take this for granted - just visit the timber yard or run a piece over the planer and it's done. In this project, where I have left modern conveniences behind, this is the most difficult bit. I've reduced the tree to manageable pieces and taken them back to the shed on a wheelbarrow. What next?

I have to start drying this wood now as it is still full of sap and must be given time to lose its moisture, shrink and move. How long does this take? It depends how thick it is and where it is kept while drying. There is a rule of thumb, which says to allow one year for every inch of thickness.

Some of these 'billets' are very thick, around 120mm or more at their thickest. I can't wait for ever - I want to be sitting on this chair well before the end of the year - and there is something else to take into account at this stage: Timber is easier to cut and shape when it is still 'green'.

First I intend to slice, split and saw out these components, slightly large to allow for shrinkage and movement, and air dry them for a few months. I'll check them for moisture content. Then, stack them in the house somewhere for a month or so to prepare them for central heating and domesticity.

One thing that is well worth doing while cut timber is drying in the yard is to paint the ends. There is a liquid wax preparation which we use for this job but you can just as well slap on a coat of oil-based paint. This is to prevent end splits, which can develop while the wood dries out. By concentrating on using quarter sawn components, I am using wood that is stable, that is, it shouldn't distort in drying. The first job was to place a pair of the "manageable pieces" side by side on the ground, forming a notch for holding the other pieces while splitting and working on them. The subdivision was another job for the wedges, something that was turning out to be relatively easy.

I particularly want to get the back legs roughed out at this stage as they are the longest components.

I select pieces that are reasonably straight grained, because they will be easier to work, but take pieces from a bend in the tree because they correspond with the shape of the template - less work when it comes to sawing them. I wonder if the shape of the back legs; typical of this chair design, developed from similar thinking long ago. Look at my photos and you'll see what I mean. This is a very strong chair anyway but if the back legs are shaped to follow the grain of the tree they will be stronger still, as well as making the job easier. By the way, I don't think this design goes back a mere couple of hundred years, I think it is a synthesis of many chairs involving many unknown makers.

My respect for the ancients was about to increase as I began to tackle the adze.
I wanted to flatten one surface of each piece and I sharpened up the adze. I knew by now that heroic feats of sawing were on the agenda if I was going to get components to regular thicknesses, but using a flattened surface as datum was essential in order to judge where to saw.

I had never used an adze before and if I'd been asked what would be the most appropriate verb for 'adzing', I would have guessed swing - surely you 'swing' an adze?
Now I would say 'chip' and I would also say that 'adzemen' (what else would they be called?) have a special kind of strength. Try chipping away for half an hour and you'll see what I mean. I intend to try more of it - especially the short handled adze for bowl making etc - but not until these components are sawn.

I thought I would try a conventional rip saw for ripping this down. There's a rip saw in the tool chest and I have one in my own toolbox but I haven't done much serious ripping until now. Both of these saws had been sent away for sharpening, but neither was much use for this kind of 'extreme' sawing; one was determined to cut squint and the other had a hidden 'stop' in the middle of it's blade beyond which it would not cut.
I decided there and then to do my own sharpening in future - Mr Wake, the original tool chest owner, had done his own sharpening; the setting tools and files were in the box.

So I tried a bow saw. Mr Wake must have had a bow saw as there is a blade for a small bow saw in the tool chest. I found that the bow saw was inclined to leave the straight and narrow as well…

Wedges are essential for keeping the kerf from closing. As usual with hand tools the main problem is with holding the stock while cutting it. I had to chisel out notches for the clamps to give them a good purchase. I found that clamping it to the side of an old gate; two clamps, one at the top and one at ground level worked better than I had expected;

It was the "Great American" Disston which saved the day. I sharpened and waxed it and away we went. This is a cross-cut saw, but cross-cut saws can be used for ripping when the reverse is not the case.
One thing that is worth saying in defence of the conventional rip saws is that they cut most efficiently when the teeth are at 45 degrees to the surface of the material, so the stock should be lying horizontally for the correct sawing angle. I found it most convenient to have the stock standing vertically and this fitted in fine with the Disston.

I prepared far more wood for components than necessary in order to allow for wastage and experimentation later on. I piled the materials up on battens under a makeshift roof to protect them from rain and sun for a few months. The roof was made mainly from old pallets - driftwood, of course.
 
#16 ·
The Blue Shed



In some ways I would be proud to have "Bodger" on my CV. The gentlemen who made chair spindles in the beech woods in and around Buckinghamshire when Charles Dickens was writing were called Bodgers. It's hard to see where the connection with "botching a job" comes from but there probably isn't one, apart from the fact that they come from the same, older, root. Bodgers were not "botchers" or "butchers" or "cowboys" even, they were skilled woodsmen who cleaved beech wood and then turned the sections on pole lathes, there and then, amongst the trees. A truly "lean" operation.

The components they made were for Windsor chairs and similar spindle type chairs; a style that is a real classic. Maybe it was the ready supply of cheap components that made it so common - allied with the elegant designs - there is a problem, however; the use of these short components means that there is a weak point at the back of the seat - spindles or legs, become loose, come out, break. Stresses are not transferred right down to floor level as they are in "chammer" chairs, the main structural element is the thick and solid seat, and years of use and changing temperatures take their toll. I've mended a few and, I can promise you, that's the problem area!

Chammer chairs - and it's one of these that I am making - were mostly made of pine (softer than beech) and although I have yet to do a survey, I think they have lasted just as well as Windsor chairs; so there !

The shed, then, is the workshop; where I can work, out of the rain and away from the phone, and keep the toolchest in the manner to which it has become accustomed. It also houses a workbench which complements the hand tools - it doesn't matter how good your hand tools are, without a good workbench you can't do much. Holding the item you are working on securely is essential.

This shed is only a few years old, but was leaking badly - the "tarry felt" roof was letting in water, even the horizontal boarding of the walls was not impervious. I decided to extend the shed by 900mm (does it look unsymmetrical on the right hand side?) to give space for the tool chest and give my daughter something to laugh at when I bash my head on the roof every time I take a tool out of the chest.

As I was rebuilding the shed anyway I chose to put clear corrugated plastic in the roof over the bench. There is no electricity there, of course - no heat or artificial light; so I don't work there during the wintry months and I take the chest into the Mill for a warm up.

Wasps decided to take up residence in my absence and built their bikes along the roof as an act of defiance and wrens tried to nest again in a notch in the roof. I wish the wrens well, but recalling what the wasps did to my grapes in the greenhouse, I moved them on.
The shed has a back door now to give a free flow of air on warm days and a view of the larches. It also means that I can work on long pieces of wood at the bench.

I made the bench of pine and fitted it with an old vice at one end. There's also an antique vice forming an end vice to work in conjunction with "dogs" morticed into the bench top. With these two vices I can hold most pieces of squared wood. The bench was hand made last year, after work on the shed ceased, and this gave me a preview of what the tool chest offered to the eccentric chair maker. I had spent three days cleaning the tools up, but that wasn't the same as using them in earnest.

Did I cheat? Well, I did use the hand morticing machine for the base of the bench.

As time goes on I will accumulate other aids and jigs etc but felt that a sawhorse was essential to complete the set.

I am aware that the sections of beech and elm drying in the "tent" are not square and will present problems soon when I come to flatten and straighten them further.

However, before that I want to delve into the tool chest - give the wood more time to dry - and let you see, at last, what Mr Wake had at his disposal 100 years ago, and what I am going to use to make the chair.
 
#17 ·
Alan..have just discovered this blog and backed up to the beginning. Its extremly intresting and informative. While I could never undertake such a project, I can most certainly enjoy this through you. To often we are so busy today that we over look the history of so much that we take for granted. I have found everything that you have posted since you joined LJ's very intresting and always look forward to see more'of you'. rt
 
#18 ·
The Toolchest (Part 1)



"Maybe he was a pattern maker". Alexander, my oldest son, is an engineer and was looking at the collection of gouge chisels as I put their tray back in the chest. I was wondering why Mr Wake had so many gouge chisels and whether that was a clue to his job.

All the tools in this chest are marked "C Wake" but I know nothing else about him, except for what I can guess from the chest and its contents.

"You just want to show off your collection of tools, that's why you're doing these articles !" Well, I think there's more to it than that, in fact, there are many reasons; one of them is to get on Mr Wakes' track and learn about him from his tools.

I think of the box as Mr Wakes's toolchest and only partly mine. He is still present in a way and maybe he was a pattern maker. I've thought of shop sign maker and fitter of spiral stairs - there are clues here that he did free hand curved work as will become evident. There's also a set of heavy number stamps, from 1 - 9: I can see him making up wooden cogs, wheels and bits of large wheels in some iron foundry and stamping them before they leave his bench to go to the row of sand boxes lined up for the molten metal to be poured.

"Come back with that before it gets lost."

There's even a drawknife in here; it is well used and I can only assume that he was the only person to own it as, like all the tools in this chest, there's only his name on it. This is what makes this collection especially interesting to me. Most old wooden tools have names stamped on them and many have several names, as they were passed on, perhaps to another generation. To share Mr Wakes's toolchest is a rare privilege - it's not the same as getting a grandfather clock or a commode.

Another thing worth mentioning is that it is well filled - there's not much room for anything else - so apart from one or two odd gaps this is a complete set. There's no hammer, nor is there a ruler; maybe these have been borrowed more recently.

There's no plastic in the tool collection, which dates it, and there's no plywood in the construction of the box. Although plywood dates back to the Egyptians it became common in the 20th century.

The chest is made of yellow pine and mahogany. The yellow pine is knotty and not of high quality, but I think this is a reflection of how it was to be finished rather than the purpose of the box. It was covered in "scumble" a thick coating of shellac based materials on a Plaster of Paris base, which had enough stain in it to make the wood look like mahogany.

The lid is of yellow pine too and was shattered when I got the chest so the first thing to do was strip off all the varnish and reinforce the lid. These chests stayed in the workshop, were sat on and stood on, but maybe not in their first few years; there are hours of work in making this functional and beautiful item: "Get off that, sit on your own box, there's hours of work etc. etc."

The lock is nice - it works on the second click, which is unusual and the wrought iron lifting handles are blacksmith made.

The eight drawers or trays are of mahogany and dovetailed, there are four pairs, which slide on rails and they are varying in height with the shallowest at the top, so they are not interchangeable, and only the top two have lids.

The lower part of the interior, under the trays, is divided into three sections for larger tools - saws and planes etc.

When fully loaded this chest is heavy, very heavy, not the kind of toolchest you would want to lug from job to job. Anyway motor cars were few and far between in 1900; I imagine that Mr Wake spent much of his time in a workshop… but I don't really know so will stick with the evidence in front of me. One thing I do know is that this chest was bought at a house auction in Worcestershire in the 1950s or 60s, probably near Evesham, which puts it in the West Midlands and you can almost hear the heavy industry….

There is the narrow tray on the top row with very fine dividers and callipers, is this more evidence of pattern making? This is that ubiquitous drawer for all the bits and pieces. Amongst these I found bowsaw blades, but there wasn't a bowsaw in the box so I sneaked one in. I also found bits for a "Yankee" (ratchet) screwdriver, so I sneaked one of these in too; I had an old one with the traditional wooden handle. These preceded battery drills and I found them very handy in my early days, they don't need regular charges and you can still buy them.

The toolchest also had a very elegant hammer and three spirit levels - the spirit levels say to me that Mr Wake spent some of his time out of the workshop.

The next level of drawers contain saw sharpening equipment (so he sharpened his own saws) and chisels. All the chisels in the left hand compartment are gouges (what a lot!), the right hand side contains an assortment of flat chisels. All were in good condition and didn't require much cleaning up and sharpening.

In level three you can see on the back left hand side a collection of mortice chisels with one or two others, some of them very big! On the right hand side there are lots of files, some for saw sharpening, some for the difficult bits of moulding plane blades - some for pattern making? What about the assortment of bullnose and rebate planes, at the front right hand side? These were obviously for fine detailed work - pattern making again? Does it matter? You just want to use them!

The last section contains fine chisels - I'm better acquainted with these; essential for dovetails etc.

In level four, the larger tray has an assortment of spokeshaves and home made scrapers, with the aforementioned draw-knife. There are all handy for shaped work or freehand details of a Chammer chair.

There are Keyhole saws and gimlets - there's also a marking gauge, but there's a more interesting one coming up later.

The contents of the Toolchest were going to be one blog entry, but that was ambitious, even without slavering endlessly over the tools. I still have the lower level to deal with and must close the lid for now.

 
#19 ·
Nice blog. It took me a while to read it from the beginning. Nice to know i am not alone when it comes to taking a while to work a project through.

The tool chest is a treasure indeed sir. It looks like you will make good use of it.
 
#20 ·
The Tool Chest (part 2)



You can't do a project like this without being impressed by the beauty and brevity of the names of the tools. No fancy Roman or Greek words, they're all earthy old Anglo Saxon or old French: Adze, axe, awl, wedge, mallet, froe, to say nothing of scorp or felloe - I could go on and on, but as we are coming to "saws" and "planes" and "braces", I thought this was a good time to bring this matter up. The age of these words indicates the venerable history of these tools.

I looked a few of them up and found that they were all old English or French, "bradawl" was old Norse, the only Latin one was "plane".
I read somewhere that river names are some of our most ancient words, they too are often short and you can imagine how important it was to the Neanderthals to give a handle to these powerful barriers/sources of food and transport.

The video shows the lower reaches of the Toolchest. This is where the saws are and they are very comfortable to hold, the handles were designed to be used a lot and Mr Wake kept the steel in good condition.

"Look at the polish on these panel saws". Ignore the Scottish accent, I can't do West Midlands.

The video clips also show the whole family with the panel saws at the far end and the rip saw behind the three tenon saws.

These planes are worth a chapter on their own and, like the saws, will be important to me in making this chair. There are two routers: Known as a "Grannie's tooth" it is used to clear the bottom of a groove to ensure that it is level. It precedes the whining, but very useful modern router. I don't need a Grannie's tooth for this exercise, which is a good thing, as they both need surgery.

Next along there's a small compass plane - I hope it's going to be of use when forming hollows in the back rails of the chair. Then there are three bench planes and a veneer plane - do you see it with the near vertical iron? Although this is designed mainly for roughing up the surface of soft wood pre-veneering, it's also useful for finishing hardwood surfaces before scraping and sanding. Because the blade is working like a "toothed" scraper, it doesn't lift the grain, which is helpful when working with difficult hardwoods.

Confession time - a mistake has occurred and I'm leaving it in; in the movie clip one of the three smoothing planes should not be there. It's the one in best condition and it was Mr Hogg's, it has his name on it.

Mr Sydney Hogg was an elderly colleague of my father's who trained as a joiner before the First World War. He lost his arm in the war and had to change his profession; for most of his life he was "the sanitary inspector with one arm". I have two of his planes; this one and a near perfect jointer. They must have been bought just after Mr Wake's and, like his, they have only one name stamped on them.

So, two of these are Mr Wake's smoothing planes, they are worn and, like old boots, they have patched soles - inlaid boxwood triangles that help to reduce the gap in front of the edge of the blade (throat ) and improve the quality of the job from an old plane. They are not in perfect condition so maybe I will have to enlist Mr Hogg's help at some stage.

There is another and bigger smoothing plane here, but also badly worn, and a jointer, which is patched but very serviceable. It stands in front of a rebate plane which is just a converted jack plane, maybe it can be used for both purposes - I'll try it later on.

All these planes have wedges instead of the threaded adjusters that we are more accustomed to. It's a good system if you are patient with it. Don't take a sledge hammer to it. I use the pin hammer in the top compartment of the chest and often wonder if that's what it's there for.

In one of the movie clips, you will see a plough plane on the left. On the right is a sliding philister with the depth stop missing; it's still usable and eminently reparable.
Philister must be a Greek word, because even though it's not in my dictionary, I read somewhere that "ph" at the beginning of a word means it must be from the Greek. This is surely a case of the exception proving the rule. Anyway, this one is very nice but it doesn't have Mr Wake's moniker on it.

Why not? Another rule being broken? Well, there was one in the box and it was in a sad state, so I've kept it, but I'm not using it. So there!

Mr Wake's collection of moulding planes are in good condition and no surprises as to which ones are here; a few hollows and rounds, a matching set (tongue and groove), a few mouldings and a simple rebate plane. Why so many rebate planes? For sliding sash windows? Or is it just that rebate planes last well due to lack of use? I would genuinely like to know.

These are nice planes to have if they are in good condition. If you are not sure what that means, try and restore one. A bad one will take ages and may never be right. The market for these is not very sophisticated, many are just being bought as ornaments - a bad moulding plane will make an excellent ornament, let someone else have it.

Of particular interest is one of the two marking gauges - and it's not the big rosewood panel marker. It's the other one which is a cutting gauge at one end and a marking gauge at the other. That's unusual and I have seen many variations on this theme - there are threaded ones (with two nuts, all wooden), there are gauges with wedge fixing and ones with screw fixing, there are graduated gauges, there are posh mortice gauges made of rosewood, there are presentation ones made of ebony and brass (that's all you need when you are intending to spend the rest of your days on a golf course!), but there's something more unusual…
Can you see a scribed line on dull days? Can you see it on bright days? I often find myself drawing the line in again with a pencil. Now, this gauge has a hole in it and I think it's for a pencil - a thin pencil, maybe it came free with this very clever gauge. Then I realised that a slimmed-down pencil would fit perfectly.
I put blades in the hacksaws and they were as good as new. Mr Wake's collection also inclues mallets and a spirit level.

The three braces are well worn and one of them is terminal. There is a good collection of the usual drill bits.

No wonder the chest is heavy. I only hope these two chapters describing it are not too heavy, and you have some energy left to observe the process of trying out the tools on the wood for the chair, which is drying out nicely. You can just see the shelter on the left hand side of the screen at the end of the movie, which accompanies this chapter.

 
#21 ·
Thanks for the up to date.

Over here on this side of the pond we call them fillister planes. I don't know which is correct but the dictionary has it spelled that way.

Those are some nice saws. I have several old Disston's my self. I get the most use out of an old Spear and Jackson Sheffield back saw with split bras nuts and a beech handle to die for. I rescued it from e-bay.

Keep up the good work
 
#23 ·
Waiting for Beech To Dry



Leaving the tool chest for a moment; we go back a few years to the Domesday Book and 1086 and an interesting fact - 13 saws were recorded in the kingdom, bowsaws were common at the time so what kind of saws were these? Probably not sawmills; mills are mentioned aplenty and millponds too but they were agricultural mills.

These are probably pitsaws, a gruelling job for two men; one of them in the pit and the other steering the two-handed saw and balancing on the level tree-trunk as they reduce the mass of timber to more manageable beams and boards.

Royal forests were spread over the whole country and this was where trees were allowed to mature and massive timbers for roofs and naval ships would be carved out by manpower.

The commoners coppiced - they cut trees while still young near the ground to encourage lighter growth, they would cut this every 15-20 years giving them a supply of timber that could be more easily handled with their felling axes, side axes and adzes, and their building techniques developed to accommodate these raw materials. Pollarding is coppicing at high level, i.e. at 2m or so from the ground to allow animals to graze without chewing up the new growth on the tree stumps.

To come nearer home and back to the job in hand; it is The Year of the Rains, nothing is drying very well, including my beech. My main concern is staining - beech can become mouldy and this leaves a dirty grey stain deep in the wood. Stained beech can be very attractive if the "honey fungus" has been at work - this is called spalted beech and we have made kitchens from this.

I moved the wood around in its primitive shelter, cut down the weeds to allow better airflow, and took out the elm and some beech to work on.

I don't think I have mentioned the elm before but we cut down a small elm which was beginning to overshadow our house door at the Mill about 4 years ago. We felled it with the two-handed saw. The trunk was still lying there when I started this project and I decided to process it along with the beech and make a Chammer chair (Project 14 in our furniture making course), while the beech would be used to make a Carver (Project 15).

Elm is a difficult wood - it is cross-grained - the fibres are interlocked; and it is often difficult to see which way the grain is running. As you will see, this is important when it comes to planing timber. This tree was only about 250mm in diameter so this would also test another of my theories; that it should be possible to make a chair/chairs by hand from small trees. I'm going to experiment with branch wood later on in another project.

Elm doesn't degrade much from lying around for a couple of years in the log whereas beech does. Again I was taking a risk with this; a small tree, four years lying around in all weathers; will it, won't it?

As this one was only a prototype and not the chair of the project, I can clear this up now. The wood was OK; some rot, which I was able to avoid, and some staining which I think enhances the look of the chair. I don't think staining will look good in the beech chair but I have enough wood to be selective.

The finished item was made entirely using the tools from Mr Wake's tool chest except the feathers for jointing the boards in the seat. The boards were sawn out of one piece by hand with nothing to spare, so I jointed them with slip feathers made on the circular saw at the Mill. I will be prepared for this when I make the beech chair, perhaps I can make feathers with the slitting blade on the multi-plane, or maybe I'll have enough material to make tongue and groove joints. You may be tut-tutting (circular saw?) but this is not the chair of the story!

Another risk I have taken is to assemble it before the wood had dried to 11% moisture - it was at 15%. However, it is made entirely of quarter-sawn timber, so I don't think it's a big risk.

Last year, when I was working on the shed, a blackbird built a nest on the gate - outside the shed there's a gate which had a wheelbarrow upended against it. The wheelbarrow provided some shelter for the young family and they survived. This was brinkmanship which I respected but not something the cat would have reflected upon for long if it had come to her notice.

A wren built a nest in the shed roof this year between two neighbouring purlins, as I mentioned earlier. I had to work in there so we shared the place and I tried to ignore her although I would see her from time to time, perched on the gate, with worms dangling, wondering when I was going to get out. She got in through a gap above the doors and would occasionally be there when I came in, and would flutter around the place before flying out. I never heard any noise from the nest and was beginning to suspect that her family were no longer. Maybe she was in denial and was still busying herself about the place, because that was her job. Maybe it was my fault they had died.

One day, while I was working on the elm chair and the rain was pouring down outside (nothing new about that), I heard her fluttering around but didn't look up so as not to startle her. She kept fluttering around, I looked up, and I was startled - she was everywhere, bumping into walls, sitting on the floor, perched on planes and poo-ing on the tool chest. She had multiplied. There were now four or five of her and I realised that this was her and the family, and this was a flying lesson. Even though the door was open they flew round and round gripping onto tools, bouncing off walls getting up off the floor for another 15 minutes and then one by one they flew off. Never to be seen again - but what a privilege!

 
#24 ·
Thanks for the post, Allan. It is wonderful to see furniture being made in a time-honored fashion such as you are doing. I simply could not imagine the skill and effort it would take to resaw lumber by hand, for example. I know that I, for one, would not have the hand skills to do so.

Thanks for the story behind the post as well. I have often said that the story is often as important as the project itself.
 
#26 ·
Breaking out the Beech (part 1)



The timber is still moist to the touch and heavy, probably about 28% moisture, but it will be easier to cut in this condition and will dry quickly with a smaller cross-section. It is time to rough-cut the components. You may remember that I have already selected and prepared pieces for the main members - the back legs.

All this hand-work makes you think of efficiency in a way that you may never have thought of it before. If you have ever cycled around the countryside and taken a wrong turning - it's the same sort of thing. You can't just swing round, as you can in the car, and "drat it, I'll have to do that again". It is serious this time - the expletive is more colourful, and the thought that you will have to crank the thing up the hill that you have just hurtled down - well, it's not fair!

So, you try to cut corners - your brain goes into overtime as you avoid mistakes and look for quick solutions. If you go too near the line (or over it) you might not have enough width in this component to do the job. You might have to make another one; and this one will be no use.

As a rule, I try to cut out my largest pieces first. Not only when I'm doing this kind of "extreme woodworking", it is good practice when you are using machines and "drat it, I'll have to do that again" comes up. This time, though, it's more crucial.

I'm also looking for shapes that will give me the most components for the least effort. In this project I was able to get the four (18mm x 35mm) bottom rails out of one piece of wood.

I was taking a bit of a risk (economically - you understand); this piece would have been wasted if I had only managed to get one (18mm x 70mm) seat rail out of it.

This example may not appear to make sense mathematically, but you didn't see the contours of the piece of wood and four small components are less demanding (i.e. give you more flexibility, more choice,) than two larger ones.

So, efficiency, economy, effort, risk all these words keep coming up and will beg the question, "Why not use a machine, why make life difficult?" My answer is to ask another question, "Why do people learn the violin if it's easier to get a tune out of an electric organ?" Answer me that. Would people turn up in large numbers for a performance of Bach's B minor mass at the Royal Albert Hall played on the massed electronic organs of the BBC Electronic Organ Ensemble? Would the players even want to turn up?

I digress, but when I am struggling with a bowsaw that was "working fine an hour ago" (not blaming the tools, of course), I feel there must be an answer for the sceptic - the person who says in a stage whisper at an evening class: "Just use a jigsaw, that's what I would do."

Anyway, the practical aspects of sawing and preparing components for this project are easier to get to grips with if you have a look at the video clip that accompanies this chapter. Although the wood is quarter-cut it may move a bit as it dries, so it's better by far to leave two or three millimetres of tolerance and more on the larger pieces, especially the back legs. This process is called "roughing out" after all. You can fine tune this later when the wood is ready to be finally trued up, dressed to size and made into a chair.

The sawing along the grain is done with a rip saw. The planing is done; first with a "scrub" plane, for quick results, then with the jack/rebate plane and finished off with the triplane or jointer. All these are made of beech and have wedges for keeping the blade in place, this means that the blade adjustment is all done with tapping; either the back of blade for a deeper cut or the rear end of the plane for retracting the blade.

I always start a new component by planing a flat "face" on it to work from. I then use a marking gauge to establish a line, parallel to this, for my first cut. If the component is large and/or irregular, I gauge this line all the way round, ends as well, so that I can turn the wood in the vice and cut from both sides and eventually from the other end.

I try to resist the temptation to rip the piece of wood apart when I think I have nearly joined up the saw cut from both ends. (The grain can tear and spoil the job!) Don't do it - it's only a few more cuts.
 
#29 ·
Breaking out the Beech - Part 2



I have to "rough cut" the curved pieces of the chair now and, to come back to the jig-saw question, you can't use a jigsaw to cut a curve in 90mm beech. Admittedly it's not very easy with a bowsaw but it is possible. What if you halved the piece of 90mm wood, cut it with a jigsaw, and glued it back together again? - Yes, you could do that; but there isn't a jigsaw in Mr Wake's box, nor is there a power point in the shed. End of discussion.

The other alternative, if you remain uninspired by the film of me bowsawing for ages, is of course a bandsaw.

However, don't buy a bandsaw without giving it a trial run and putting it through its paces - a cheap bandsaw may be no more able to cut 90mm beech than a jigsaw.

A final word on this issue; I am cutting beech in this project - beech is used for making plane bodies, so it's not soft, it is very dense. These chairs were normally made of Scots pine (we usually call this redwood now) and it is a lot softer. The kits that I supply for making these chairs are also redwood and, like the antique ones, they should easily last a couple of hundred years - in fact they should be just coming into their prime in 2200.

When I selected slabs for the back legs I had it in mind that I could perhaps get two legs out of one piece. There is a good reason for this - I could economise on the sawing; if one leg can "nest" in the other one. In fact, I could save myself a lot of sawing. In the past at Lethenty Mill we have made sets of similar chairs in the workshop and have been able to cut up to six or seven legs from one slab, saving time and materials.

Using the bowsaw I have to be very careful to cut square (at right angles to the surface). You may also feel that a little care with adverbs wouldn't go amiss, but "squarely" is just wrong. It sounds wrong and I don't care what the spell checker says…
Funny, it ignored it!

There are some straight sections in these legs and I cut these with the rip saw as it was easier.

I haven't gone on about the spokeshave yet but now is a good time to hold it up to scrutiny. Curves are not easy - straight edges are a lot easier and there are lot of tools in Mr Wake's toolchest for cutting, truing and dressing straight edges - and most of these are pretty useless on curves.

There are not many tools for curve cutting in the toolchest and they are mainly spokeshaves - two of which are handmade - and he may have made them himself. There is a small wooden compass plane, not in bad condition so maybe not used a lot. I only used it for making templates from thin material (by the way it is a good idea to make wooden templates from the paper ones that I include in the Lethenty Mill project manuals, the wooden versions are far easier to use).
The workhorse is the spokeshave, and the more I get to know it, the more impressive this ancient implement is. Wikipedia says that prehistoric spokeshaves were made of stone, so they go back into prehistory. It also says that we can only surmise that they were used for shaping spokes (why?) and arrows and paddles (and probably any curved surface). In fact if potatoes had been discovered…. I suppose the potato peeler is a spokeshave in a way and if you hold onto that thought for a moment, it helps you to see how the spokeshave is used - like a potato peeler.

Anyway, it occurred to me that the lack of curve cutting tools in the average toolbox is not just because of the difficulty of designing them and man's predilection for straight lines (and the obvious connection), but also an indication of how good the humble spokeshave is for shaping all sorts of curves - not just spokes. I have seen coopering tools and some of them are obviously members of the same family… I won't go on.

When I speak about the bowsaw, I always mention the spokeshave and show people how to use it, because when you see how useful they are, curve cutting can be less of a chore. In this case, where the work is heavy and demanding, you can cut straight lines with the rip saw leaving slow curves on, and finish them down to the line with the spokeshave later on when the wood has dried a bit more.

So, I brought the spokeshave into the picture at this point not because I used it for roughing out the curves but because I would use it in the final stages of dressing the components, and I know I can rely on it to give good results.

Roughing out is about leaving on just enough material outside the line to give room for shrinkage, dimensional changes and what I call "creative latitude" - you can call that mistakes if you like!
 
#31 ·
Making the Chair (Front Frame)



I wish I knew more about mushrooms and toadstools; Inkcaps appear from time to time, and rubbery, orange or brown alien things are there in the short grass some mornings and gone a few days later. Wrens are bobbing about outside the window today looking for insects in the bushes, maybe it's the "flying school" wrens - they'll be around all winter as they don't migrate, and in the spring (RSPB website) the males will build several nests and the female will choose the nest she likes best. "Well, I did like the one you showed me last, but the one before it had a nicer kitchen….. but, I didn't like the view……."

It is now 6 weeks since I roughed-out the chair components. I'm quite pleased with progress, the balance between drying and preparing components has worked well and the chair should be ready by the end of the month. But I'm not complacent ! Anything might happen yet - and probably will if I don't concentrate.

I added a bowsaw on the basis that Mr Wake had a bowsaw, because there is a blade for one in one of the top drawers. I added a scrubplane which I made up out of a knackered jackplane. I made templates, but always with the tools from the toolchest. I have had to use hand saws, wedges, clamps, a wheelbarrow and a scythe but have stuck to the original intention of avoiding machines and electricity.
Isolated in the shed (not all the time!) with a limited and antiquated collection of tools has taught me a lot. I haven't used all the tools in the chest by any means but the ones I have used have been more than adequate for making the chair. Making the prototype elm chair was a good preparation. There have been some surprises along the way, but the most rewarding experience has been finding out more about the spokeshaves. There will be more about curves in the next part of my blog. The job today is to prepare the wood and mortice and tenon the front frame for gluing up.

Marking out the joints is done with a sharp pencil, a ruler and a mortice gauge (2 points - fully adjustable). There isn't a mortice gauge in the toolchest so I have to use a couple of the marking gauges.
Is the joint between horizontals and verticals flush ? Well, I did a survey of the old chairs that I have and the rails are flush in some places and up to 2mm back in others ! So, in the drawings I have shown them flush for simplicity- a 9mm joint at 9mm back (i.e. 9mm shoulder - see drawings) as the rails are 18mm thick. I prefer them back a couple of millimetres, and I set the gauges accordingly - 9mm tenon and 9mm shoulder on the the cross rails and 9mm mortices at 11mm back in the verticals. There is a tip that may be worth mentioning - Mark from the face every time and even though the thicknesses of your components may vary (as they are handmade) the joint will always appear perfect.

For cutting out the mortices, I used a mortice chisel, slightly smaller than the width of the mortice, and a cabinet - making chisel, as broad as possible for cleaning up the sides of the mortice. To save time I employed a brace of Mr Wake's and an auger bit (drill) slightly smaller than the width of the mortice, there were two other benefits from using this;
a) it cut the full depth of the mortices - 25mm, and
b) most important of all, it established the angle of the mortice.
In the front and back frame the horizontal rails fit into the uprights at 90 degrees, but the side rails are at 7degrees to these frames. This detail is common to all the chairs of this type that I have seen - the front frame is wider than the back. You can miss this out and make the back frame the same width as the front frame, then the seat is still a reasonable size (I've noticed that we need larger seats than our ancestors had) and all the joints are at 90 degrees. The seat is now rectangular in plan. Definitely a good idea if you are trying to "speed up, standardise and get them out the door".
I have tried this and it looks awful!

This angle (b) is not hard to achieve and repeat if you make a jig like the one I am using in the video clip - you can also use the jig to provide a "stop" for the drill (a). Not a bad thing if you value the components that you have prepared - you definitely don't want to see the threaded bit of the drill sticking through the other side. By the way I did not make spare bits for my chair, so I was not willing to take any unnecessary risks.

The tenons were just sawn out using a tenon saw and the joints were fitted individually before gluing up. I cut and fitted the top rail first then clamped it together, checking that it was square and the joints were tight. While that was clamped up I marked out the tenons on the bottom rail so as to get the neatest fit for the joints. I prefer to make the front frame first; it's a good "warm up" exercise before the main course.

After dry fitting all the components of the front frame I glued it together. I left the side rails and the angled mortices into the front frame till later.

 
#36 ·
Making the Chair (The back frame gets glued up and the chair comes together)



There are some jobs that must be done as you go along; they will be very difficult to do once the back frame is glued up.
Unfortunately, I am one of those people who must see results and can't wait indefinitely to see a frame going together. Apart from the fact that I think someone said "A decision deferred is a decision well made" I have two excuses for this less than grown up behaviour.
a) Sanding every square millimetre can be pointless if it turns out that there is a final curve or detail to be removed at a later stage, when it is more appropriate, and the offending rough piece that you have just spent ages polishing up will be removed.
b) If you only do the jobs that you have to do as you go along I think there is less opportunity of making a mistake.
For example; If I was cutting out all my mortices with a mortice machine that had taken some time to set up, I would do them all at once. In this project I have to use (and set-up) another jig for cutting the angled mortices so there is no advantage in cutting them all at once.

Next I prepared the components of the back frame. Rounding over the backs of the legs from the seat up must be done before gluing up (spokeshave and sandpaper), smoothing off the back rails and carving the lower rail cannot be left either.
It was when I was carving the lower rail that I learned about the usefulness of "out-cannel chisels". There are both "out" (bevelled on the outside) and "in" in Mr Wake's toolchest and I found one that exactly matched the bump in the middle of the detail in the lower rail and discovered that I could get a "factory finish" with it, after bow-sawing the bump to a rough shape.

All the curves had to be brought to a pre-sanded finish before tenoning and gluing and this was when I found out that the smallest spokeshave is not just "for small jobs" as I think I said earlier. It has a very tight throat, making it perfect for finishing; it takes off very fine shavings and can be used over large curved surfaces despite the fact that it is small.

In the drawer beside it, however, was an ugly, hand-made spokeshave that I had ignored up till now because it looked so crude; I should have learned from earlier experiences. I picked it up a few days ago, sharpened it and knew within minutes of using it that it was an essential part of the spokeshave family. It is the "scrubplane" equivalent. It has a curved blade and is ideal for ripping off large amounts of material in the early stages of forming a curve. I used it a lot as I sorted out the components; getting the curved shapes right before smoothing and tenoning the ends. The roughness of these handmade spokeshaves may be intentional as they are less inclined to rotate in your hands.

I fitted the tenons making sure that the depth of the mortices was greater than the length of tenons. You may laugh but you won't even raise a smile if you don't check this, and when you come to gluing up, one joint will not pull in! Less fundamental, but also worth watching, I was careful to fit the tenons in such a way as to leave my 2mm margin in front of each rail; I had to shave a good bit off the back of each tenon to achieve this, and checked from time to time with the roofing square on the bench that the joints were coming in square.
Finally I gathered up some clamps and packers, put glue in the mortices and a little on the shoulders of the tenons, pushed it together and clamped the frame up. I checked that the joints came together perfectly (sometimes this was just a matter of moving the packers around to align the pressure from each clamp to the best position for pulling in each joint.)

Moving swiftly back to the desert island; the palms, the waves breaking on the shore, the monotonous sunshine and the toolchest spilling its contents provocatively on the golden sands. What if I had all this but lacked the detailed drawings to make a chair? What is crucial to this design?
I think it is three angles that make it unique;
a) The 1 degree taper on the inside of the front legs,
b) The 13 degree "inside leg" of the back legs,
c) The 7 degree splay of the seat.
The rest you could make up, but without a protractor I'm afraid you could be deviating dangerously from tradition and who knows where that might end.
The side rails are all about these angles - there are two adjustable bevels in the toolchest - I set one at 13 degrees and the other at 7.
The top rails are angled at 7 degrees and 90 degrees. I tenoned them and fitted them dry, as with the front frame, to get the best fit for the lower rails.
 
#37 ·
Great series, i,ve followed it from the start and was wondering when the next part was coming. As a aside you said you worked on the new zealand ship Rakaia. I was born and raised near the town of Rakaia in mid canterbury.
 
#40 ·
Making the Chair (Fitting the Seat and Arms)



I closed the shed in October last year and took the toolbox inside as I had no intention of working through the winter on this project - even though it was near completion. The cold damp air is not good for the wooden tools and they deserve better at this stage in their lives even if they have withstood worse in the past…..

So Christmas passed, then January, February, March; finally in mid-April, I re -installed the toolbox and started work again. The frame of the chair was already glued up, all that remained was to joint and fit the seat, and shape and fit the arms. I've spoken about the brinkmanship of preparing components for this project; the risks that David Pye speaks about in his book "The Nature and Art of Workmanship" I think that I "get away with it" most of the time but now and again dodgy decisions have come back to haunt me. Well, the Shakers add the occasional error to their work as "only God is perfect" I wish I had to do this artificially …. In fact, isn't this slightly arrogant of them?

Anyway, I thought I had enough spare seat material in the boards to tongue and groove them, but after flattening the top surfaces and edging them and finding - it's not working out - they turn out to be an exact fit with nothing to spare. I thought about dowelling them together, hammering beech offcuts through a hole in a steel plate as they used to make dowels, but was concerned about the difficulty of making sure that the dowels lined up parallel with the surface of the seat; the seat must be flat.

In fact, Mr Wake's toolbox didn't help by providing any inspiration. There are no Matching planes (for cutting tongues and grooves in the edges of boards) and if I had had enough spare on the boards I would have used the Plough to cut the grooves and the Rebate plane (from either side) to cut the tongues; a laborious way of going about it.

So, as with the Elm chair earlier, I made slip feathers and grooved both edges of each board with the plough fitted with a 6mm cutter.
Mysteriously, a 6mm beech board turned up and a Multiplane fitted with a "slitter"! I have never used the slitter before, but they come as standard on most Multiplanes and usually seem to be blunt and in factory condition, which suggests they have never been used. Despite these less than encouraging signs I found that a professional looking feather was achievable and I would use the slitter again. Don't try and cut through the 6mm in one pass - turn the stock and work from both sides until it just peels away.

The top surfaces of the boards are flat so when I glued them together I clamped them up with tops pressed down onto the clamps to ensure that the seat was flat. The underside was very rough and I went over it with the scrub plane until it looked better and was significantly lighter. Then I fitted the back of the seat to fit between the back legs (6-8mm back) and marked the seat from underneath in place on the chair. I added 8mm or so all round, to give an overhang, cut to the outside of the line with a panel saw, cleaned up the edge with a smoothing plane and cut a rebate of 10 or 12 mm all round underneath so that the seat could drop in place with plenty of room for movement front to back. I rebated down to just reveal the feathers, leaving about 10 mm of thickness to the overhang.

After cutting off the front corners, I started to flatten the top of the seat with a smoothing plane going across the grain then used the toothing plane along the grain before scraping the surface and sanding it. I formed a quarter round or "pencil round" all round the upper edges, dropped the seat in place and marked, with a pencil, the underside of the seat on the chair frame and fitted blocks to this line (well, fractionally below it) for fixing the seat in place.

I prefer this method of fixing the seat - with an overhang all round - as it allows for shrinkage etc and it is the easiest way to get a perfect fit.

The arms were still in rough form and required more attention from the bowsaw, the spokeshaves and the brace and bits.
I used the auger bit for drilling out the "thumb hole" the distinctive shape at the front of the arms. Someone told me that this is a typical feature of Aberdonian carvers, but I can't verify that. I used a centre bit to remove the circular mortice underneath the arm to receive the dowel/tenon formed in the top of the vertical component. The rest was done by dry fitting, marking, drilling etc until it was time to glue an arm on and having a little "Gorilla Glue" left in a container I decided to put it to good use here. Yet again I gave thanks for not being born in the days of Scotch glue and the steaming glue kettle.

 
#41 ·
Allan, you have been working on this for nearly a year now and it just goes to show that you can't rush craftsmanship. Thanks for taking us through the construction process. It was an enjoyable ride and it is nice to see you enjoying the "fruits of your labor".
 
#51 ·
Enthroned at Last



OK, it had to be sanded and damped and sanded again before it was ready for oiling, and it had to be oiled a couple of times before it was ready. I will oil my beech chair again, and the elm chair too, in a few weeks and build the finish on both over the years to keep them looking bright.

It feels pretty good to be sitting on the chair but I'm reminded of King Canute. Did he really think that he could command the sea to stop encroaching on his shore? I looked it up and it seems that he was trying to demonstrate to his cohorts that his power was limited and that only the Almighty could decree such things as tidal ebbs and flows - "mind you, (the unwritten caveat) a favoured King is a pretty unstoppable force……" (So watch it, my friends.)

What about Robinson Crusoe? He made a table and chair early on in his sojourn and they are just mentioned in passing. Did he enjoy making them?
"…my time or labour was little worth, and so it was as well employed one way or another." (So, probably not!)

He had an axe and an adze ( according to Defoe ) and later on " I was full two and forty days making me a board for a long shelf, which I wanted in my cave; whereas two sawyers, with their tools and a saw-pit, would have cut six of them out of the same tree in half a day." This is the thinking of the Industrial Revolution, more than that, this is the mantra of "Progress" and this book was cited by Karl Marx in Das Kapital to illustrate economic theory (don't ask me how - I read it somewhere).

Defoe was writing in 1717 and his narrative runs on as though he was a master of all trades, but it is all from observation. You would also think that he had been abroad - he describes the jungle and island life with gusto, but it was all from books and traveller's tales that he created this backcloth. Another great communicator of the second hand is Henri Rousseau the eccentric French painter of exotic scenes and well worth a visit.

Defoe has Crusoe whittling down his 42 day board "With inexpressible hacking and hewing" and you can just feel the aching muscles and sense the determination.
Crusoe again "….labour and patience carried me through that, and many other things."

So, not much enjoyment there; little sense of achievement is mentioned. Was it really worth it?

We would have to ask Daniel Defoe that and he is long gone. He lived and died before the Industrial Revolution as it is now called, he was an entrepreneur and an obsessive writer. His business life was troubled by debt and there were allegations of dishonesty. In 1726 his Tour thro the whole Island of Great Britain was published where he gives an overview of British Trade prior to the Industrial Revolution and he was later described in Scotland as a Government spy.* (Thanks to Wikipedia for this.)

By the way, Robinson Crusoe has run to 700 editions, so Defoe was very successful and very persuasive - and so is the message of Progress. In fact we live in Post Industrial Revolution times when this message is food and drink to the world, but we have the benefit of hindsight. Our environment is under attack, from us; and the whole of the natural world is at risk from man's greed and waste, and the spoil of the industrial process.

Robinson Crusoe is about a young man who defies his father; Dad recommended "a quiet, retired life" but Robinson runs away to sea; always feeling guilty and having, as it turns out, plenty of time to reflect on his actions when he was shipwrecked. In fact the book is heavy with religious guilt and it's not easy reading for today's young person. There's not much redemption there - well, I couldn't find it. I would have liked to see some evidence of satisfaction for its own sake, pride in a job well done, joie de vivre even: However, Crusoe is dogged by uncertainty and frailty before a Greater power. Maybe it's that tension that gives the book its driving force, its undeniable un-put-down-able quality.

The logic of the 42 day board versus the pit-saw and teamwork is undeniable and it leads to the sawmill - water powered, then steam driven, then electrical and so on, and it's called Industry and everyone wants a bit of it, and there's satisfaction there, but does it go any deeper? Cutting down a giant Californian redwood in the early days must have been a great achievement, but when it becomes an industrial process, and it's Friday afternoon and you are looking at the ground, cleared, except for a few branches, what then? Another job well done? What does it really feel like if you care at all about nature?

With the benefit of hindsight then, what can we say about "Progress"?
Is it the same as evolution? No.
Is it all bad? No, far from it.
Is it unavoidable? Is it "Going to happen anyway"? No, we can choose.

Is it irreversible? No, but some of the results of our short-sightedness are.

Why is it that we have not learned to be sceptical as the ideas have "rolled out" and the new products and organisations have washed away what was there before? Babies and bathwater spring to mind as I think of the eagerness with which politicians and businessmen of all nations have welcomed the new with greedy self-righteousness and hastened "progress" along; Thalidomide in the 50s, the arms race, genocide etc. and now we find that global warming is advancing faster than we had ever expected.
It seemed like fun to put a man on the moon, but is that a good enough reason for doing it when people are dying of starvation on earth? I remember the question being asked at the time.

What have we discovered in our costly adventure in space that makes it all worthwhile? Teflon?

It seems to me that we have got to get to grips with our usage of this planet as our researchers show us conclusively that this is all we have got. I'm not suggesting for a moment that we should go back to the conditions of 300 years ago. I am concerned that our society in the UK seems unable to tell the difference between holistic, healthy and informed progress to a better life for all, and progress which is an infernal and selfish race to get more for ourselves while wasting more and more of nature's bounty.

I am suggesting that we should stop and think and savour and digest what we have before barging on towards the next glittering thing. We are not very good at this as individuals and far less adept when acting as a mob.

What would have happened if respect for our environment and community and genuine satisfaction in our work had been amongst the goals of the Industrial Revolution rather than occasional or incidental by-products?

 
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