When I was in the Faroes, in the Tjóðsavnið there were a few tools relating to boat building (faroese fishing boats - 4 to 12 oars, one or two mini masts, double prowed).
And I came across this (rubbish photo'. Through glass, and I can see the reason, but sometimes they take the low lighting to an extreme).
The one on the bottom left reminded me of something I made a while back, And since Dr Al. has slightly snarkily asked for a WiP on my planes I've pulled this back from my archives. It did appear briefly on the other place, but is no longer there.
Horned Plane
So, I started with a piece of firewood. I cannot guarantee that this is exactly the piece, as I put a few aside to dry, but it was similar. Sycamore, I think, that is what we normally get from our log man if it isn’t birch. And this isn’t birch. I have burnt enough of that in Sweden to know (or think I do).
A sweaty hour or so later with a saw and plane, and we have a blank.
And then, a dextrous bit of drilling later, two halves with dowels for alignment, marked to cut out the throat.
Now, I could have sworn I had some photographs of the glue up. But… Being a bear of little brain I hadn’t realised quite how much dowels will swell when you put PVA on them. What was ‘a nice tight, tap with a mallet and it’s snug’ fit became a ‘ *$%^*£, ^&”£$%^*, why, why, why, won’t you close up you %%&(&£’ fit. Every clamp I have (both of them) was used, and a Workmate, both tightened with extension bars. Plus whacking the merry hell out of the blighter with a big hammer. Imagine one of the apes out of 2001.
However, eventually.
And breathe.
Last lap, the handle and wedge. This is part of the stump of a very old espalliered plum or bullace. Splits all over the place, but I thought I had enough material. And I did, sort of. A bit of a pig to saw though, and curiously, smells of toast whilst so doing.
So here we have a blank for the wedge.
And here, after a bit of shaving , is how it fits in the body of the plane. I now had something that could cut. And, God damme, it actually did.
The handle (or horn I suppose. No sniggering at the back) was shaped with a rasp and sandpaper. And here I made a mistake. Not the first, mind you. Because I was so uncertain about whether I had enough material, I did more of the shaping on the handle than I should have. So it was a right swine to clamp up with the curved surfaces. Several lengths of twine and tourniquets proved to be effective, with quite a lot of padding.
Finally I shaped the wedge. I’m not entirely sure this is necessary in practice – I know the intent behind the cutout &c., but it really didn’t seem to make that much difference to the shavings for this sort of plane.
And, eventually, if you have borne with me over the length of this extended and no doubt tiresome description, we have the finished product. BLO and paste wax.
And this is my next project. Another lump of syacamore, and a plane iron that started in the 'weeg, went to Sydney, and came back to me. Thanks, bro.
And I came across this (rubbish photo'. Through glass, and I can see the reason, but sometimes they take the low lighting to an extreme).
The one on the bottom left reminded me of something I made a while back, And since Dr Al. has slightly snarkily asked for a WiP on my planes I've pulled this back from my archives. It did appear briefly on the other place, but is no longer there.
Horned Plane
So, I started with a piece of firewood. I cannot guarantee that this is exactly the piece, as I put a few aside to dry, but it was similar. Sycamore, I think, that is what we normally get from our log man if it isn’t birch. And this isn’t birch. I have burnt enough of that in Sweden to know (or think I do).
A sweaty hour or so later with a saw and plane, and we have a blank.
And then, a dextrous bit of drilling later, two halves with dowels for alignment, marked to cut out the throat.
Now, I could have sworn I had some photographs of the glue up. But… Being a bear of little brain I hadn’t realised quite how much dowels will swell when you put PVA on them. What was ‘a nice tight, tap with a mallet and it’s snug’ fit became a ‘ *$%^*£, ^&”£$%^*, why, why, why, won’t you close up you %%&(&£’ fit. Every clamp I have (both of them) was used, and a Workmate, both tightened with extension bars. Plus whacking the merry hell out of the blighter with a big hammer. Imagine one of the apes out of 2001.
However, eventually.
And breathe.
Last lap, the handle and wedge. This is part of the stump of a very old espalliered plum or bullace. Splits all over the place, but I thought I had enough material. And I did, sort of. A bit of a pig to saw though, and curiously, smells of toast whilst so doing.
So here we have a blank for the wedge.
And here, after a bit of shaving , is how it fits in the body of the plane. I now had something that could cut. And, God damme, it actually did.
The handle (or horn I suppose. No sniggering at the back) was shaped with a rasp and sandpaper. And here I made a mistake. Not the first, mind you. Because I was so uncertain about whether I had enough material, I did more of the shaping on the handle than I should have. So it was a right swine to clamp up with the curved surfaces. Several lengths of twine and tourniquets proved to be effective, with quite a lot of padding.
Finally I shaped the wedge. I’m not entirely sure this is necessary in practice – I know the intent behind the cutout &c., but it really didn’t seem to make that much difference to the shavings for this sort of plane.
And, eventually, if you have borne with me over the length of this extended and no doubt tiresome description, we have the finished product. BLO and paste wax.
And this is my next project. Another lump of syacamore, and a plane iron that started in the 'weeg, went to Sydney, and came back to me. Thanks, bro.
