Sukezane brand 9mm mortise chisel (mukomachinomi) side view
It is well with me only when I have a chisel in my hand
Michelangelo 1475-1564
This is the first in a series of articles about the Mortise Chisel, especially the Japanese version called the “mukomachi nomi.”
Also called the “Joiner’s Chisel” in Japan, this is a specialized chisel used by specialist craftsmen to cut precise, smallish mortise & tenon joints when making furniture, cabinetry and joinery. Carpenters don’t use it, and few in that august trade have even seen one.
In this article your humble servant will introduce a tiny bit of the terribly long history of the mortise and tenon joint, and give a description of this tool.
In future articles in this series of international intrigue we will consider how to evaluate, adjust and even how to use the Mortise Chisel in general and the Japanese Mortise Chisel in particular. We will also touch on bevel angles and blade hardness problems, what to look for in a good mortise chisel, and how to examine it with an eye to increasing its performance. This is something most users of chisels never consider, but it can make a big difference in the case of mortise chisels. Indeed, I daresay most Gentle Readers and even a few Beloved Customers will mutter the equivalent of “Bless us and splash us” when they read it.
Of course we must not neglect to discuss how to effectively correct irregularities in our mortise chisel that negatively impact performance, irregularities most people never notice.
After our Mortise Chisel is properly fettled (they almost always have some problems) we will take our racing chisel out for a few laps, but prior to that we will consider how to effectively use it. Too few receive proper training nowadays in chisel work, but here are C&S Tools we feel it our duty to help our Beloved Customers maximize their skills.
We will conclude this series by taking the “Old Master’s Test,” just to make sure both our Mortise Chisel and our skills are improving.
While focused on the Japanese Mortise Chisel, the principles and improvements discussed in this series of articles are applicable to any chisel used to cut mortises.
While all Gentle Readers with eyes to see, ears to hear, and hands that love wood are welcome to share this hard-earned knowledge, it is intended primarily for our Beloved Customers, especially those who use chisels professionally to keep body and soul in close proximity.
Some Background
Your humble servant drafted this series of posts years ago, and has shared bits of it with friends and Beloved Customers from time to time when requested, but the information has not always been well-received for a number of reasons.
There is an old Japanese saying, one which probably originated in China, written 「馬の耳に念仏」and pronounced “Uma no mimi ni nenbutsu,” which translates to “Prayers in a horse’s ear.” Why are Buddhist prayers relevant you ask? Good question. You see, some of the principles your humble servant will present in this series directly contradict doctrine profitably expounded by some of the Popes & Professors of Woodworking in the West, and may offend their disciples. But like vespers to a beast of burden, wisdom is wasted on the willfully, woefully ignorant (wow, that sounds almost like iambic pentameter!).
But our Beloved Customers are neither angels nor asses but shockingly intelligent mortal humans with whom your humble servant is convinced the time has come to share the gospel of the Mortise Chisel as it was taught to me by Masters who have since abandoned this impure world to sort boards in the big lumberyard in the sky.
This series of posts is equivalent to a graduate school course in chisels, something like “Mortise Chisels 701.” And just like a course in advanced differential equations, most Gentle Readers will never need it. But never let it be said that your humble servant didn’t do his best to improve both the skills and the tools of our Beloved Customers.
Some History of the Mortise & Tenon Joint
Mortise chisels are used for cutting rectangular holes in wood usually intended to receive matching tenons to form a structural connection called the “mortise and tenon joint” between pieces of wood.
No one knows how long humans have been using the mortise and tenon joint, but it’s a technique older than nails, although modern humans with their lithium battery-powered, made in China, landfill-bound, multicolored plastic and rubber screwdrivers may find it difficult to imagine.
So let’s begin the journey by briefly examining just two well-documented extant physical examples that may provide motivation for using this enduring joint.
The oldest known wooden structure is a neolithic well liner discovered near Leipzig Germany, constructed from oak timbers shaped by stone adze and joined at the corners with half-lap joints and pinned tusk-tenons at through-mortises. Tests indicate the trees these timbers were split from were felled between the years 5206 and 5098 BC, making the assembly at least 7200 years old.
Next, let’s look at a less soggy but more recent, more complicated and elegant example.
The oldest existing wooden building in the world is a Buddhist Temple named Horyuji located in Nara Japan. Originally constructed around 600 A.D. and rebuilt around 700 A.D. after a fire, this huge 1300 year-old temple and pagoda complex was reconstructed using hundreds of thousands of hand-cut mortise and tenon joints, testifying to the longevity of wooden structural systems and the value of this universal connection technique.
Horyuji is far more than just a temple to Buddhism, it is a temple to woodworking. If you haven’t yet visited it, you’re truly missing something.
I mention these two examples to illustrate the universality, strength, and durability of the mortise and tenon joint. Anyone serious about woodworking must master this most ancient and essential connection.
The mortise chisel is the best handtool for the job of cutting mortises less than 15mm in width. For wider mortises, well-fettled oiirenomi or atsunomi are more efficient.
Japanese Mortise Chisels
12mm mortise chisel (mukomachinomi) Face (top) View12mm mortise chisel (mukomachinomi) Side ViewView of ura (flat) of the same 12mm mortise chisel 12mm mortise chisel (mukomachinomi). Please notice the rectangular cross-section precise right angles, and straight, clean sides. This is the most precise of the Japanese chisels. The apparent tan-colored stains on the shoulder are not rust but easily-removed sharpening stone residue left by the professional sharpener who prepared the blade.
In the Japanese language mortise chisels are called “mukomachi nomi” (向待鑿), with “nomi” meaning “chisel.” Don’t ask me the origin of the rest of the word because I don’t have a clue, and have heard few plausible explanations. There is another post linked to here that contains more information about this chisel.
I will use the term mortise chisel in this article to refer to the mukomachi nomi.
For our Gentle Readers interested in the Japanese language, there are several combinations of Chinese characters used to write mukomachi, none of which make much sense or seem related in any way to either tools or woodworking. The most common characters used are “向待” with the first character meaning “there” or “direction,” and the second character meaning “wait.” Combined, they seem to mean “Waiting over there,” or something like that.
I assume the name was originally phonetic and somebody decided to use these kanji because their pronunciation matched the phonetic name. This sort of linguistic contortion is seen frequently in Japan, and has been a source of confusion for all and sundry for many centuries. I blame it on elitist Buddhist priests going back and forth between Japan and China over the centuries, but it is typical of the Japanese people in general and priests in particular to take a perverse pleasure in intentionally making and using terms others can’t figure out.
This confusing practice is not unique to bald priests. When I was an engineering student, I recall the professors insisting we never attempt to simplify or too clearly explain the technical jargon of the trade to non-professionals because it was essential to job security for them to never quite understand it.
If you are familiar with Japanese architecture, you have seen the wooden lattice work that defines it in doors, windows, dividers, shoji, fusuma, koshido, glass doors, ceilings, and even fences, all items made by “tategushi” or “joiners” in Japan. Each piece of any lattice needs two tenons and two matching mortises to stay in-place, so a single piece of traditional Japanese joinery may contain literally hundreds of small, highly precise mortises, indeed thousands in the more complicated pieces. The Japanese mortise chisel was developed specifically at the request of joiners for this type of work. Therefore, it is also known as the “Tategu Nomi” which translates to “joinery chisel.” Few carpenters use this chisel.
Nora Brand 6mm Mortise Chisel (Mukomachinomi) Side View. Although it appears to be a simple, unsophisticated tool, nothing could be further from the truth. Based on the Kiyotada pattern, this is an especially beautiful example to those with eyes to see.Nora Brand 6mm Mortise Chisel (Mukomachinomi) Ura ViewNora Brand 6mm Mortise Chisel (Mukomachinomi) Shoulder View. Exceptional shaping and filework .
Japanese mortise chisels are similar to other Japanese chisels in having a laminated steel structure with a hollow-ground ura (flat), an integral tang, wooden handle, and steel ferrule and hoop. Unlike most other chisels it has a rectangular cross-section with sides usually oriented 90˚square to the hollow-ground ura, and either flat or just slightly hollow-ground to better keep the blade aligned in the cut and to dimension and smooth the mortise’s walls.
Western mortise chisels do not typically share this detail, although unusually intelligent and observant Western woodworkers of course modify their chisels to gain similar benefits.
If speed and precision are important to you, then the sides of the chisel being oriented at 90° to the ura absolutely provide a serious advantage when cutting most mortises because the sides, and especially the two sharpish corners where these three planes meet, will effectively shave and precisely dimension the mortise’s side walls as the mortise is being cut without the need to pare them later.
Unlike most mortise joints cut with oiirenomi or atsunomi, so long as the mortise is the same width as the mortise chisel, and the user has the ability to maintain the chisel at the right angle while striking it with a hammer, the width of mortises cut with this chisel are usually quite precise and seldom if ever need be cleaned with a paring chisel. This functionality means that you can cut mortises, and especially small ones, both precisely and quickly with great confidence. It’s not called the “joiner’s chisel” for nothing.
The mukomachi chisel does not work as well in wider widths because of the increased friction between the chisel’s sides and the mortise’s walls. For joints wider than 15mm, please use a trued oiirenomi or atsunomi. And don’t forget to use your oilpot.
Conclusion
In the next class in our graduate course on the care and feeding of the wild mortise chisel, we will examine the various details to look for in an effective mukomachi nomi, most of which are applicable to other chisels such as oiirenomi and atsunomi too, indeed any chisel intended to be used to cut mortises including Western mortise chisels.
But wait a minute! Before ya’ll run out of the classroom like a caravan of crazy stoats chasing a pixie, please pick up your homework assignments from the table by the exit doors. And please, don’t leave your empties behind on the floor. Paper coffee cups are one thing, but discarded aluminum beer cans attract out-of-work divorce lawyers and other slavering vermin.
See you next time.
YMHOS
Your most humble and obedient servant’s set of well-used mortise chisels. The 8 older pieces on the right are by Kiyotada (1.5mm~15mm). The two 2 newer chisels on the far left are by Nora. Over the years I have used these tools both professionally and as a hobbyist more than any other of my chisels, as you can perhaps tell from the differing blade and handle lengths which have become shorter with use. A stoic tool, they gossip among themselves less than most other chisels. They are good friends and reliable workmates that worked hard for many years to pay rent, tuition and to buy food for the wife and babies.
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An illustration of the Eidai tatara furnace (a cross-section illustration is shown at the end of this article) with human-powered blowers to right and left. Looks like hot work.
The things that will destroy America are prosperity-at-any-price, peace-at-any-price, safety-first instead of duty-first, the love of soft living, and the get-rich-quick theory of life.
Theodore Roosevelt
The terms White Steel and Blue Steel frequently pop up in discussions about Japanese woodworking tools and kitchen knives. The usual misunderstandings abound in those discussions and BS takes majestic wing.
In this article your humble unworthy servant will try to share some accurate information sourced directly from the steel manufacturer, ancient blacksmiths that actually work these steels, and Japanese professional craftsmen paid to make sawdust and shavings using these steels instead of the usual soft-handed shopkeepers and self-proclaimed experts pontificating from their Mom’s basement.
We will begin by studying some etymology of two of Japan’s most famous modern tool steels. We will then transition through space and time to discuss ancient domestic Japanese steel, and then shift our attention to why these modern steels came into being. After that, we will go to metallurgy class, sans most of the technical jargon, to understand what chemicals these steels contain and why. We will also outline several performance characteristics particular to these two steels in the case of woodworking tools.
For those who enjoy more technical details combined with pretty pictures, we have concluded with the results of a brief but very informative materials engineering study.
There’s much work to be done, so please stretch your back and shoulders and ready your BS shovel.
Product Designations: Yellow, Blue and White Label Steels
These terms refer to tool steels manufactured by Hitachi Metals, Ltd. (HML) in their plant located in Yasugi City in Shimane Prefecture, Japan. If you are into woodworking tools or Japanese cutlery you have probably heard of them.
Hitachi, Ltd., founded in 1910, is one of Japan’s largest and most prestigious manufacturers. Its subsidiary, Hitachi Metals, Ltd., was established in 1956 through acquisition.
“White Steel” is an abbreviated translation of HML’s nomenclature of “Shirogamiko” 白紙鋼, which directly translates to “White Paper Steel.” Likewise, “Blue Steel” is an abbreviation of “Blue Paper Steel,” the translation of “Aogamiko” 青紙鋼.
Regarding the color terminology in these product designations, just as “Johnnie Walker Blue Label” is the product name of a Scottish whiskey with a blue paper label pasted onto the bottle, Aogami is the designation of a particular formulation of high-carbon tool steel with a blue paper label pasted onto it by the steel mill. It’s that simple.
While Johnny Walker may be kinda sorta yellow in hue, it’s no more tinted blue than JW Red Label is sangre. Likewise, the actual color of Hitachi Metal’s tool steels do not vary in color, only their labels do. BTW, if someone tells you they can tell the difference between these steels by simply looking at them, tell them to give you a nickle and pull your toe for some fragrant, musical entertainment.
Surprisingly, some folks insist they can tell the difference between steels by licking them. Our feline masters see this as further evidence human mothers lack not only retractable claws, but have butter fingers (ツ)。
Since your humble servant can read and write Japanese, I feel foolish calling these materials White Steel or Blue Steel as many in English-speaking countries do, so I prefer to use the more correct names of Kigami, Aogami, or Shirogami steel, or the English translations of Yellow Label Steel, White Label Steel or Blue Label Steel. Please excuse this accurate affectation.
Now that adult beverage nomenclature, greenhouse gases and feline viewpoints are out of the way, let’s go back in time a few hundred years. My tardis is that green box just over there. Yes, the one with the doohickey on top.
A change into period-correct wardrobe will not be necessary, but please put away your smartphone and kindly don’t embarrass me in front of the locals by holding it over your head and wailing “There’s no signal!!”
Traditional Domestic Japanese Steel: Tamahagane
Tamahagane, written 玉鋼 in Chinese characters, which translates to “Jewel Steel” and is pronounced tah/mah/hah/gah/neh, is famous as the domestic steel traditionally used to forge Japanese swords prior to the importation of bulk steel from overseas beginning with products of the Andrews Steel mill in England. Indeed, at one time tamahagane was at the center of all steel production in Japan.
But tamahagane does not grow on trees. Indeed, before Admiral Perry’s black ships re-opened the many kingdoms and fiefdoms scattered across the islands that now comprise modern Japan, the only significant local source of iron was a material called satetsu, a loose surface particulate iron written 砂鉄 in Chinese characters, meaning ”sand iron,” and pronounced sah/teh/tsu. Satetsu looks exactly like black sand. It’s quite common throughout the world, as you may discover if you drag a magnet through a dark sandy riverbed or over a black beach.
Typically found in rivers and estuaries, for many centuries the area around Yasugi City in Shimane Prefecture was a prime source.
Satetsu iron, loose and with a magnet
Satetsu was historically harvested in Japan using dredges and sluices creating horrendous environmental damage. Fortunately, the days of wholesale estuary destruction are in Japan’s past.
Although Aluminum is the most abundant metal found on the third rock from the sun, people who must have huge scales say that iron makes up 34% of the earth’s mass. Japanese satetsu as harvested is a fairly pure form of iron lacking nearly all of the problematic impurities found in commercial iron ore nowadays.
Historically, satetsu was refined in rather crude furnaces called ” tatara” yielding clumps of brittle steel containing excessive amounts of carbon and other impurities, but few of the inconvenient impurities common to iron ore extracted by mining. This “bloomery” technique is not unique to Japan, although many Japanese people who should know better mistakenly believe it is.
A tatara furnace in operation. Satetsu is combined with charcoal and heated over several days. The resulting bloom steel, called “Tamahagane,” settles to the bottom in clumps and puddles and is removed by breaking the furnace apart.Freshly-smelted Tamahagane. Being raw iron, it oxidizes quickly.
Steel produced this way in the West is called “bloom steel.”
Blacksmiths hammer, fold, and re-hammer these crumbly lumps to remove impurities and reduce/distribute carbon forming the more homogeneous Tamahagane steel. This webpage has some interesting photos of tamahagane.
A clump of Tamahagane early in the forging process. Most of this material will be lost as waste before a useful piece of steel is born.After the Blacksmith hammers the raw clumps of Tamahagane hundreds of times, he then forms it into numerous small flat steel patties, which he breaks into the pieces shown in this photo in preparation for forge-welding them into a single larger piece of steel that he can then forge into a blade.
Tatara furnaces are still operated on a limited basis today producing Tamahagane in limited quantities for use by licensed swordsmiths. Tool blacksmiths use Tamahagane occasionally too out of interest in traditional materials and methods. It’s expensive and difficult to work, with lots of waste.
A sawsmith on the island of Shikoku in Japan who was active both before and after the availability of British steel is recorded as saying that imported Western steel increased saw production efficiency in his area tenfold. Clearly, Tamahagane was a very labor intensive material.
Mr. Kosuke Iwasaki, a famous modern Japanese metallurgist and blacksmith, described forging Tamahagane as being like “hammering butter” because it flattened and spread too quickly and unpredictably, at least compared to modern steels.
Besides its peculiar forging characteristics, compared to modern tool steels Tamahagane is a difficult material infamous for being overly sensitive to temperature and easily ruined during all phases of forging and heat treatment. These traits have created a historical sensitivity among Japanese blacksmiths regarding precise temperature control, a beneficial habit when working the tool steels discussed herein.
In use, tools made from Tamahagane behave differently from modern commercial steel, or so I am told. I own and use a straight razor custom forged from Tamahagane for me many years ago by Mr. Iwasaki. I also own antique Scheffield and German razors, but my hand-forged Iwasaki razor puts them all to shame in terms of sharpness, edge retention, and ease of sharpening. I also own a couple of antique Tamahagane saws, but I have not used them much, nor have I used Tamahagane chisels, planes or knives, so my experience is limited to this one wickedly sharp little blade.
My beloved Tamahagane cutthroat razor by Iwasaki
Why do I bother Gentle Reader with these tales of ancient smelting techniques and obscure products no longer viable? Simply because Tamahagane and the cutting tools and weapons it was once used to produce profoundly influenced both Japan’s history and the Japanese people’s attitude towards edged weapons and cutting tools, in your humble servant’s opinion.
Although imported Western steel served Japan well during its ramp-up to modernity, the memory of the performance of cutting tools made from Tamahagane has remained alive in the national memory. Indeed, I am convinced the Japanese people’s love and fear of sharp things is not only psychological but genetic, although I have not seen any studies on the “sharpness gene.” But that’s a story we should save for the next time we are enjoying a mug of hot coco together around the iori fire on a moonlit Autumn night. May that evening come soon.
Modern Japanese Tool Steels
Enough ancient history. Let’s jump back into the tardis and travel to the late 1950’s to consider a few modern steels before returning home.
Yes, you can turn your mobile phone back on once inside, but reception may be poor for a few centuries. No you can’t bring back souvenirs. I don’t care what Doctor Whatsit did with his tardis, we are responsible time travelers and will avoid creating causal conundrums. Besides, the import taxes are pure murder. And please, do be careful no little children slip inside with you.
When Japan began to mass-produce commercial steel from imported pig iron using modern techniques, the first standard tool steel produced was identical to Western steels, including the impurities. These are still produced today as the “SK” series of steels as defined by Japan Industrial Standards (JIS).
Eventually, to satisfy the irrepressible sharpness gene of their domestic customers, Japanese blacksmiths and cutlery manufacturers pressured Japanese steel companies to develop products with fewer impurities and with performance characteristics approaching traditional Tamahagane.
Rising to the challenge, Hitachi Metals endeavored to replicate the performance of Tamagane using modern smelting techniques and imported pig iron and scrap metal instead of expensive and environmentally unsustainable satetsu.
Ingots of Swedish pig iron
To this end Hitachi purchased and modernized an old steel plant in Yasugi City, Shimane Prefecture for this purpose. They formulated the best steel they could make using the best pig iron they could find, sourced mostly from Sweden, an area famous for hundreds of years for producing especially pure iron ore. The results were Shirogami Steel (pronounced she/roh/gah/mee/koh 白紙鋼), Aogami Steel (pronounced aoh/gah/mee/koh 青紙鋼), and Kigami Steel (pronounced kee/gah/me/koh and written黄紙鋼) meaning “Yellow Label Steel.” Later, they developed Aogami Super steel (青紙スパー ) (a mediocre high-speed steel) and Silver Label Steel (stainless steel). Each of these products are available in various subgroups, each having a unique chemical formulation.
For a time, Hitachi marketed some of these steels with the “Tamahagane” designation. Problematic, that. Indeed, many saws and knives were deceptively stamped “Tamahagane” when these steels were first introduced.
With the explosive popularity of Japanese knives overseas, several Japanese manufacturers have once again made the decision to body surf smelly waves of BS deceptively labeling their products as being made from “Tamahagane” despite being made of common SK steels and even stainless steels. Because these spurious representations were and continue to be made for the purpose of increasing profits for companies that clearly know better, in your humble servant’s opinion even the stinky label of BS is too good for them.
Caveat emptor, booby.
Chemistry
We tend to think of steel as a hard metallic thing, but lo and behold, ’tis a chemical compound!
Few chemicals humans dabble with are absolutely pure, and while White Label, Blue Label, and Yellow Label steels contain exceptionally low amounts of undesirable contaminants, they do exist. Dealing with the negative impacts of these impurities has been the bane of blacksmiths since before Vulcan was chopping charcoal in hairy goatskin nappies.
The most common undesirable impurities found in commercial iron include Phosphorus (reduces ductility, increases brittleness, and messes with heat treating), Silicon (a useful chemical that increases strength, but too much decreases impact resistance), and Sulfur (a demonic chemical that reduces strength, increases brittleness and gleefully promotes warping). Obviously, something must be done about these bad boys.
Some people imagine that, through the alchemy of “Science” (a word that’s lost nearly all of its positive value nowadays through adulteration and profiteering by corrupt, credentialed scam artists both public and private and narcissistic publicity hounds pretending to be “scientists”), impurities are simply “disappeared” from steel during smelting. While some impurities can in fact be eliminated through heat and chemical reactions, it is not possible to significantly reduce the content of those listed above through smelting and forging alone.
Undesirable chemicals can be tolerated in steel to some degree because, like arsenic in drinking water and carbon monoxide in air, below certain levels they cause no significant harm. The best solution we have discovered is to reduce the concentration of impurities to acceptable levels by using ore and scrap material that contain low levels of impurities to begin with, and constantly testing, and either rejecting or diluting the ”pot” as necessary to keep impurities below acceptable levels. This practice is known as “Solution by Dilution.”
White Label steel is plain high-carbon steel without other additives, while Blue Label, Silver Label, and Aogami Super steels have various chemical additives to achieve specific performance criteria. Please see the flowchart below.
Production Flowchart of Yellow Label, White Label, Blue Label, and Super Aogami Steels
A flowchart outlining the manufacturing process
Another technique used to mitigate the negative effects of impurities found in iron ore is to add chemicals such as chrome, molybdenum, vanadium, tungsten, etc. to the pot producing so-called “high-alloy” steels that can be more predictably forged and heat-treated, are less likely to crack and warp, and will reliably develop useful crystalline structures despite containing high levels of detrimental impurities. Such high-alloy steels can reliably produce useful tools in mass-production situations by unskilled labor and with minimal manpower spent on quality control while greatly improving productivity and decreasing costs. But regardless of the hype, such chemicals do not improve sharpness or make sharpening easier, important considerations in the case of woodworking tools. Indeed, the exact opposite is true.
The pages in Hitachi’s Japanese-language catalog regarding their relevant cutlery steels can be found immediately below.
The table below is a summary of a few relevant tool steels listed in Hitachi Metal’s catalogue.
Gentle Reader will notice that White Label and Blue Label steels both have the same minute allowable amounts of impurities such as Silicon, Phosphorus, and Sulfur.
Chemical Table of White Label, Blue Label and Aogami Super Steels
Chemical Table of White Label and Blue Label steels as well as Aogami Super (this table can be scrolled left~right)
Carbon of course is the element that changes soft iron into hardenable steel, so all five steels listed in the table above contain carbon, but you will notice that White Label No.1 has more carbon than White Label No.2. Likewise, Blue Label No.1 has more carbon than Blue Label No.2.
The greater the carbon content, the harder the steel can be made, but with increased hardness comes increased brittleness, so White Label No.1 is likely to produce a chisel with a harder, more brittle blade than one made of White Label No.2.
With impurities and carbon content the same, the chemical difference between White Label No.1 and Blue Label No. 1 then is the addition of chrome and tungsten, elements which make the steel much easier to heat treat, and reduce warping and cracking, thereby yielding fewer defects with less work. Chrome, and especially tungsten, are expensive chemicals that make Blue Label steel costlier than White Label steel, but with easier quality control and fewer rejects, overall production costs are reduced.
White Label No.2 steel makes a wonderful saw, but the plates and teeth of saws forged from White Label No.1 tend to be fragile unless the blacksmith removes excess carbon during forging to improve toughness. This is entirely within the skillset of an experienced blacksmith, and can even occur by accident.
My point is that an experienced and conscientious blacksmith will use the steel most likely to achieve his customer’s expectations for performance, not just the most profitable or more easily-worked material.
In the case of chisels, plane blades, and kitchen knives intended for professional use, White Label No.1 is the first choice of Japanese professionals followed by Blue Label No.1 steel.
Where high performance at less cost is required, Blue Label No.1 is often preferred.
All things considered, and this is a critical point to understand, compared to White Label steel, Blue Label steel is easier to forge and heat-treat, with fewer rejects, making it a more cost-effective material despite being a more expensive material. Indeed, many blacksmiths and all mass-producers prefer Blue Label steel over White Label steel, when given a choice, because it is easier to use and more profitable, not because it makes a superior blade.
Many wholesalers and retailers insist that Blue Label steel is superior to White Label steel simply because, as a material, it’s costlier and contains elements that make it more resistant to wear and so-called “abrasion,” intimating that it will stay sharper longer. Those poor derelict souls who are easily deceived, have less than professional sharpening skills, or do not follow this blog may accept this convenient marketing ploy, but when wise Gentle Readers hear this sort of nonsense they will know to quickly put on their flippers and floaties in time to keep their heads above the stinky, brown flood of BS about to engulf them.
Wise Beloved Customers who choose blades forged from Blue Label steel will do so because they know that Blue Label steel makes a fine blade at less cost than White Label steel, not because Blue Label steel blades are superior in performance. Moreover, regardless of the steel used, they will always purchase blades forged by blacksmiths that possess the requisite dedication and have mastered the skills and QC procedures necessary to routinely produce high-quality blades from the more temperamental White Label steel. The reasons are made clear in the Technical Example below.
Quenching & Tempering
Let us next consider the process of hardening steel, called “heat treatment,” (in Japanese “netsu shori” 熱処理) the key to making useful tools.
High-alloy steels vary in this regard, but in the case of plain high-carbon steels, the two primary stages (with various intermediate steps we won’t touch on) of heat treatment are called “quenching” and “tempering.”
Quenching
Despite what many, including Supreme Court Justice Jackson, imagine, both men and women are fundamentally different and at the same time essential to making hoomans. Iron and carbon too are fundamentally different elements, and both are essential to making steel. And like men and women, these two elements sometimes make nice, but sometimes don’t get along well at all.
Indeed, prior to heat treating, the carbon molecules in steel tend to isolate themselves from the larger mass of iron forming isolated clumps, an organization that makes steel weak and/or brittle. When the steel is heated above a specific temperature, however, the carbon clumps tend to dissolve, become mobile, and meld with the iron molecules in a very friendly manner, if Gentle Reader will forgive me for anthropomorphizing chemistry. If the steel is then allowed time to cool naturally the carbon molecules will once again separate themselves into useless clumps creating a soft or brittle material.
But if the yellow-hot steel is instead suddenly quenched in oil or water it will cool rapidly such that carbon molecules lack the time needed to reform the weak clumps it naturally prefers leaving it stranded and mixed with the iron, forming extremely hard “carbide” particles, locked into a rigid crystalline matrix. This transformation is the first part of what your humble servant and others call The Mystery of Steel.
After quenching, the steel is brittle enough to shatter if dropped onto a concrete floor, for instance, and not suitable for tools, so further measures are necessary.
Tempering
The next step in the heat-treatment process is called “tempering,” a process that adjusts the rigid crystalline structures created during the quench, losing some carbides and loosening the rigid crystalline structure somewhat, but making the steel less brittle and much tougher.
This is achieved by reheating the steel to a set temperature for a set period of time and then cooling it in a specific way. This heating and cooling process can happen in air (e.g. oven), oil, or even molten lead. All that really matters is the temperature/time curve applied. Every blacksmith has their own preferences and procedures.
With that ridiculously overly-simplified explanation out of the way, let’s next take a gander at the “Quench Temp” row in the table above which indicates the acceptable range of temperatures within which each steel can be quenched to successfully achieve proper hardness. These ranges are important because if quenching is attempted outside these ranges, hardening will fail and the blade may be ruined.
In the case of White Label steel, Gentle Reader will observe that the quenching temperature range is listed as 760～800°C, or 40°C. Please note that this is a very narrow range to both judge and maintain in the case of yellow-hot steel, demanding a sharp, well-trained eye, a good thermometer, proper preparation, and speedy, decisive action, not to mention a thorough purging of iron pixies and malevolent spirits from the workplace.
Just to make things worse, even within this allowable range, a shift of temperature too far one way or the other will significantly impact the quality of the resulting crystalline structure, so the actual temperature variation within the recommended quench temp range an excellent blacksmith will aim for is more like ± 10˚C.
In the modern world with easily-controlled gas fires, consistent electric blowers, and reliable infrared thermometers, this target can be hit through training and diligent attention, but not that long ago it was seen as a supernatural achievement performed in the dark of night by powerful wizards. I kid thee not.
Compare this range of quenching temps to those for Blue Label steel with an acceptable quenching temperature range of 760～830°C, or 70°C of range, a 75% increase over White Label steel. That’s huge.
Let’s next consider the recommended tempering temperatures.
For White Label steel, Hitachi’s recommended tempering temperatures are 180～220°C, or 40°C of range. Blue Label steel’s temperatures are 160～230°C, or 70°C of range, once again, a 75% greater safety margin.
The practical temperature range for quenching and tempering Blue Label steel is still quite narrow, but this increase in the allowable margin of error makes the job a lot easier, such that Blue Label Steel is much less risky to heat-treat successfully than White Label steel.
Judging and maintaining proper temperatures during forging, quenching and tempering operations is where all blacksmiths, without exception, fail when they first begin working plain high-carbon steel. The guidance of a patient master, time and perseverance are necessary to develop the knack. Experience matters.
I hope the discussion this far at least partially brings into focus the challenges these two steels present to the blacksmith.
If you seek greater light and knowledge, please look online to find similar data for many of the popular high-alloy tool steels. Comparing those numbers to White Label steel and Blue Label steel will help you understand why mass-producers of tools, with their lowest-possible-cost mindset, minimal quality control efforts, and virtually untrained workforce of peasant farmers, former lawn-care professionals, and aspiring fast-food restaurant workers prefer them for making the sharpened screwdrivers foisted off by the boatload on uninformed consumers as chisels nowadays.
Warping & Cracking
A huge advantage of chrome and tungsten additives is that they reduce warping and cracking significantly. This matters because a blacksmith using a plain high-carbon steel like White Label steel must anticipate the amount of warpage that will occur during quenching, and then shape the chisel, knife, or plane blade in the opposite direction so that the blade straightens out when quenched. This exercise requires a lot of experience to get right consistently, making White Label steel totally unsuitable for mass-production.
Steel is a magical material. When yellow hot, the carbon dissolves and disperses relatively freely within the iron matrix. Anneal the steel by heating it and then slowly cooling it and the carbon molecules will migrate and gather into relatively isolated clumps with little crystalline structure leaving the steel soft.
But if the steel is heated to the right temperature and suddenly cooled by quenching, the carbon is denied the time and freedom available to it during the slower annealing process, instead becoming locked into the iron matrix forming a hard, rigid crystalline structure. This rigid iron/carbon crystalline structure has a significantly greater volume than pure iron, which is why the blade wants to warp when quenched.
Adding chrome and tungsten and other chemicals reduces this tendency to warp.
Sword blades are an interesting example. A Japanese sword blade is typically shaped either straight or curved towards the cutting edge before quenching, but during quenching the blade warps and curves without encouragement from, and despite the efforts of, the blacksmith. The skill and experience required to accurately anticipate the degree of warpage generated and the resulting curvature of the blade, and then compensate while shaping the blade before quenching to achieve the desired curvature post-quench is not something one learns in just a few months or even years.
A Japanese swordsmith with a blade made from high-carbon Tamahagane steel poised for quenching. Notice how straight the blade is. He has invested weeks of work into this blade to this point and a misjudgment or even bad luck in the next second can waste it all. Not a job for the inexperienced or timid.After quenching, the resulting warpage is dramatic, but according to plan. The swordsmith must anticipate this distortion and shape the blade to compensate prior to the quench if he is to avoid unfortunate results. Notice the mud applied to the blade before quenching to control the formation of crystalline structures, achieve differential hardness, and control warping. Tool blacksmiths are faced with the same challenges on a smaller scale but more frequently.
High-alloy Steels
Unlike Tamahagane, however, modern high-alloy commercial steels contain large amounts of chemicals such as chrome, tungsten, molybdenum, vanadium, etc., with the result that tools made from these steels warp less, and exhibit far fewer shrinkage cracks.
Aogami Super is another HML product listed in the table and flowchart above. It’s an interesting steel, containing more carbon than both White Label steel and Blue Label steel and a lot more tungsten than regular Blue Label steel. Consequently, it is even more expensive. Aogami Super was originally developed as a high-speed tool steel especially resistant to wear. There are much better steels available for this role now, but Aogami Super is still hanging in there.
But all is not blue bunnies and fairy farts because high-alloy steels have some disadvantages too.
Those who hype high-alloy steels always praise to the heavens the “wear-resistant” properties chrome and tungsten additives afford. When the subject is woodworking handtool blades, however, please understand the meaning of “wear resistant” to include “not very sharp,” and “a bitch to sharpen by hand.”
Tungsten makes the steel warp less and expands the heat-treat and tempering temperature ranges significantly leading to fewer defects during production. But the addition of tungsten also produces larger, tougher crystals that simply can’t be made as sharp as White Label No.1, and that makes the blade much more difficult, unpleasant, and time consuming to sharpen, all while wasting more expensive sharpening stone material in the process.
White Label steel has no additives other than carbon. It does not need additives to compensate for or to dilute impurities because its production begins with exceptionally pure pig iron, and carefully tested and sorted scrap metal. Both White Label and Blue Label steels, if properly hand-forged and heat treated by an experienced blacksmith with high quality standards, will have many more and much smaller carbide clumps distributed more evenly throughout the iron crystalline matrix producing a ” fine-grained” steel of the sort coveted since ancient times.
On the subject of scrap metal, this is not necessarily a negative thing. In fact, nearly all tool steels available nowadays contain high percentages of scrap metal content because, environmental and sustainability matters aside, it’s simply too cost-effective to ignore. Careful sourcing and testing are the keys to using scrap metal advantageously.
Performance Differences
I hope Gentle Reader found our little excursion back in time in the tardis, and the chemical information presented above, interesting, but it may not have clearly answered your questions about the performance differences between these steels, and when presented a choice, which one you should purchase. Your humble galley slave has been asked and answered these questions hundreds of times, and while only you can decide which steel is best for you, I will be so bold as to share with you the viewpoint of the Japanese blacksmith and woodworking professional.
Long story short, in the case of planes and chisels, the typical choices of steel are still White Label No.1, White Label No.2 or Blue Label No.1. BTW, I have been informed that Hitachi is no longer producing these steels and consequently they will not be available much longer.
If you are dealing with honest blacksmiths and honest/knowledgeable retailers with experience actually using, not just talking about and selling, tools, you will have observed that a specific plane blade, for instance one made from Blue Label steel, will cost less than the same blade made from White Label steel, despite Blue Label steel being a more costly material.
At C&S Tools a 70mm White Label No.1 steel plane blade cost 77% more than one made from Blue Label No.1. This means that the blacksmith’s average cost in terms of his labor (overhead, forging and shaping costs being equal) is also around 77% greater than Blue Label steel, a direct reflection of his potential additional time expenditure and material wastage due to defects such as cracking or excessive warping. This a constant risk for the blacksmith making professional-grade blades, so he must include the expense of mitigation in his production costs if he is to continue to keep a roof over his family’s heads.
So the dishonesty of charging more for products forged from Blue Label or Aogami Super steel is repugnant to your humble servant and should be to Beloved Customers too. But I digress.
White Label steel simply warps and cracks more, but when failure occurs it only becomes apparent after all the work of laminating, forging, shaping and quenching are complete. Ruined steel cannot be reliably re-forged or re-used, so all the material and labor costs up to the point of failure are simply wasted like an expectation of honest news from CNN. It is not a material for careless people or newbies.
So if White Label steel blades are riskier to make, with more wastage, and therefore more expensive, what are the performance characteristics that make White Label steel blades a favorite with professional Japanese craftsmen?
First, properly made White Label steel blades can be made sharper. This makes the craftsman’s work go quicker and more precisely. But don’t forget that this additional sharpness is entirely dependent on the user’s sharpening skills and his willingness to maintain his blades at that higher level.
Second, properly forged White Label steel blades are quicker and more pleasant to sharpen, making it easier to routinely obtain the extra sharpness mentioned in the previous paragraph. That sums it up.
To some people, especially those that use edged tools professionally all day long, these differences matter a great deal; To others, not so much.
Is White Label steel worth the extra cost? I think so, but the performance differential is not huge, and only someone with advanced sharpening skills will be able to take full advantage of the difference. For most people on a tight budget, or in the case of woodworking situations where sharpness is not critical, and sharpening speed and pleasure are not driving factors, then a less-expensive Blue Label steel blade is perhaps a better choice. It absolutely makes a fine tool that does a great job of cutting wood.
The Wise Man’s Q&A
Let’s shovel some more BS out of the way by performing the mandatory experiment of taking a hypothetical high-quality White Label steel blade and a hypothetical high-quality Blue Label steel blade, sharpening them identically using the best stones and advanced techniques, test them to cut some wood, and then consider the answers to the following two important questions:
Question 1: Will the additional sharpness obtainable from a White Label steel plane blade, properly sharpened and installed in a perfect body, create a smoother, shinier finish surface on wood than a Blue Label steel blade?
Answer 1: Definitely no; But since the blade started out a little sharper, it will cut wood a little better, a little longer. These results will depend on the skills of the user, of course.
Question 2: In the case where edge-retention, cutting speed, and cutting precision are more important than a shiny finish, which absolutely applies to chisels and knives, will the additional sharpness of a properly made and proficiently sharpened White Label steel blade improve a woodworking tool’s cutting speed, edge-retention, precision and control?
Answer 2: Absolutely yes; On condition that the user possesses and exercises the skills necessary to achieve and maintain that extra degree of sharpness. There is a reason sharpening has always been the first essential skill in woodworking.
These are the reasons why we don’t even offer chisels made from Blue Label steel, or even White Label No.2 with its lower-carbon content, and resulting reduced hardness.
But whether plane blade, chisel or knife, a key point to understand is that a properly forged and heat-treated blade made by an experienced professional blacksmith from simple White Label steel will always be quicker and more pleasant to sharpen than one made of Blue Label steel with its added sticky chrome and hard tungsten. To the professional that has the need for the additional sharpness, possesses the skills necessary to produce and maintain it, and counts the cost of his time and sharpening stones, that’s a difference many find fully justifies the extra cost.
I daresay many of our Beloved Customers agree.
A Technical Example
You may find the metallurgical technical terms below difficult to follow, but perhaps an example with pretty pictures will help bring things into focus. Please see this informative article by Niigata Prefecture’s Prefectural Central Technical Support Center. If you input the URL into Google and use the translate feature a decent English-language version may magically appear. Or not. Some of the key results are copied below.
The steel being tested in the study outlined below is White Label No.2 steel (row 2 on page 4 of the Hitachi catalogue pdf). They heat-treated seven samples, tested their hardness, and listed the results. In each case, the quench temp varied from 750˚~900˚C (1382˚~1652˚F) in water, but the tempering temp was kept constant at 180˚C (356˚F).
The best results can be seen in Figure 4 below at a tempering temperature of 775˚C (1427˚F) producing the finest, most uniform crystalline (Austentite) structure. Lower temps are not as good. Higher temps are worse. A 25˚ variation one way or the other made a big difference.
So let’s examine how the crystalline structure changes with different temperatures as seen in the photos below.
The white stuff visible in the photographs is Ferrite (iron), while the black stuff is spherical carbide (Cementite). When Ferrite and Cementite meld, a desirable hard crystalline structure called Martensite is formed, although there are several steps in between we will not touch on. This subtle molecular change is the essence of the ancient Mystery of Steel, and the keystone to modern civilization.
Fig.1 shows the steel before heat treatment begins. Notice how the soft iron Ferrite and spherical carbon Cementite are isolated from each other indicative of little crystalline structure and a soft metal. No significant Martensite is visible.
Fig.1: Pre-heat-treat condition of Shirogami No.2 steel.
The graph in Fig.2 below shows Vickers Hardness on the vertical axis and quench temperature (with a 20 minute soak) on the horizontal axis. Notice how hardness makes a big jump between 750˚C and 775˚C. This 25˚ range is the sweet spot.
Fig.2: Vickers Hardness vs. Quench Temp
Fig. 3 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 750˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. This is 10˚C below the manufacturer’s recommended quench temp. Notice how the iron Ferrite and spherical carbon Cementite are mixing, forming some gray-colored Martensite, but there are still big lakes of Ferrite visible. Better, but not yet good.
Fig. 3: Quench Temp = 750˚C, 10˚C less than the recommended quench temp
Fig. 4 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 775˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. Notice how the iron Ferrite and spherical carbon Cementite are well-mixed forming pretty grey Martensite, indicating that this is close to the ideal quench and tempering protocol; The sweet spot. The crystalline structure shows few lakes of iron Ferrite or islands of spherical carbon. This organization is typical of durable, hard, fine-grained steel. A mere 25˚C increase in quench temp has yielded a large improvement.
Fig.4: Quench Temp = 775˚C. Well within the recommended quench temp.
Fig. 5 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 800˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. This is still within the quench temp range recommended by Hitachi. Notice how the Ferrite and spherical carbon Cementite are still fairly well-mixed, but the dark spherical carbon is becoming a bit more isolated from the Ferrite forming more, darker groupings. While the Martensite formed is still quite adequate, the performance of this steel may not be as ideal as that in Fig. 4. Notice also that the hardness of the steel has dropped slightly.
Fig.5: Quench Temp = 800˚C. Max recommended quench temp.
Fig. 6 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 825˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. Notice how the crystalline structure has become less uniform than in Fig 5 after only a 25˚ increase in quenching temp.
Fig.6: Quench Temp = 825˚C. 25˚C greater than the manufacturer’s recommended quench temp. The crystalline structure is clearly inferior to Fig.5
Fig. 7 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 850˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. This time, a mere 25˚ increase in quenching temp has resulted in significant degradation in the uniformity of the crystalline structure as well as reduced hardness.
Fig.7: Quench Temp = 850˚C. The crystalline structure has degraded further.
Fig. 8 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 875˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. Once again, significant degradation in the uniformity of the crystalline structure and loss of Martensite is apparent.
Fig.8: Quench Temp = 875˚C. The crystalline structure has once again degraded further. This result is not acceptable in a quality blade, but the margin for error in terms of temperature differential is small.
Fig. 9 below shows the crystalline structure at a quench temp in water of 900˚C, after a 20 min. soak, followed by tempering at 180˚C for one hour, followed by air cooling. Gentle Reader will notice the many white “tissues” that have developed in addition to tempered martensite. The fibrous-appearing white stuff is considered retained Austenite, a formation that can later be converted into hard Martensite with some effort. Once again, just a 25˚ increase in quenching temp has resulted in significant degradation in the uniformity of the crystalline structure as well as reduced hardness.
Fig.9: Quench Temp = 900˚C. The crystalline structure has obviously become less uniform. Not acceptable.
Clearly, Shirogami No.2 steel is a very good tool steel, but it’s sensitivity to heat-treatment technique, and the necessity for knowledge, experience and care in working it are also clear.
Takeaway
What should Gentle Reader glean from this technical presentation?
The first thing to understand is that plain, high-purity, high-carbon steel that has been skillfully forged, quenched and tempered will exhibit the finest, most evenly-distributed hard carbides in a uniform crystalline steel structure mankind can economically produce. Such steel will become sharper than any other metal from which a practical chisel or plane blade can be forged.
This fact has not changed since ancient times, regardless of the hype and marketing of the mass-producers who can at best achieve comparatively mediocre results using modern high-alloy steels.
The second thing to understand is that, while it is not difficult to make high-carbon steel hard, nor to temper it to make a durable product, producing a uniform, durable crystalline structure that will become very sharp, will be especially resistant to dulling, and can be sharpened quickly requires serious skills of the sort that only result from many years of study under a master, and dogged commitment to quality control, especially temperature control and timing. In your humble servant’s opinion this makes chisels, plane blades and handsaws hand-forged from the high-quality high-carbon steels discussed in this article worthy of consideration by professional woodworkers who need sharp blades and have the skills necessary to maintain them properly.
If steel is the lock, then the crystalline structure the blacksmith creates in high-carbon steel through his skill, diligence and dedication is the key to the Mystery of Steel. It’s a lock and key mankind has been using since ancient times, a combination that is the foundation of our modern, extremely wealthy civilization. But it’s only been a handful of decades since we developed the technology that made it possible to really understand why the key opens the lock. Rejoice, Gentle Reader, for you live in technologically enlightened times!
I hope this discussion has been more helpful than confusing.
YMHOS
A cross-section of the Eidai tatara furnace (also pictured at the top of this article) with human-powered blowers to right and left forcing air into the fire at the furnace’s base. The red-hot furnace contains satetsu as the first layer resting on charcoal with the fire below. More layers of satetsu and charcoal are added as the process moves forward. The heat of the supercharged burning charcoal makes the iron more-or-less liquid, absorbing carbon (too much carbon, actually), and causing it to settle to the bottom of the furnace as Tamahagane, but it does not drop into what appears to be a void below. The complicated subgrade structures and combination of materials shown have several purposes, foremost of which is to provide a solid foundation for the furnace even when subjected to high heat. They also prevent groundwater from infiltrating below the furnace where it would otherwise rob heat complicating temperature control, as well as providing escape paths for any moisture below the furnace.
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A Rusted Plane Blade by Hatsukuni. What did it do to deserve such horrible neglect?
“How dull it is to pause, to make an end, To rust unburnish’d, not to shine in use! As tho’ to breathe were life!”
Alfred Lord Tennyson, Ulysses
Between damaged tools and guns, corrosion prevention has been a high priority for your humble servant over the years motivating me to purchase many corrosion-prevention products and test them in various climates. After scaling mountains of hype and fording floods of BS I think at last I have something of value, perhaps even the genuine article, to share with Gentle Readers.
While by no means comprehensive, in this article your humble servant will address three common causes of corrosion in steel woodworking tools, as well as some methods of prevention. The three causes are: Corrosion due to sharpening, corrosion due to handling, and corrosion due to storage.
But first, to help Gentle Reader understand the basis for the measures I will recommend below, allow me to explain my sharpening philosophy.
Tool Philosophy
The word “philosophy” is of Greek origin and means the “love of wisdom.” I won’t flatter myself that I developed any original wisdom about maintaining tools, because the truth is I stole most of what I know from better men and the rest came ipso facto from my own screw-ups. Shame is the best teacher.
Professional craftsmen have no choice but to constantly maintain and repair the tools of their trade, but necessary or no, clients and employers often resent the time the craftsmen they hire spend maintaining tools during the work day. After all, they are paying them to make a product, not to fiddle with tools, at least that’s how most Clients look at it.
Imagine you hired a contractor with an excavator to dig a septic field and hole for a septic tank for you, but until his work is completed, the plumbers, riggers, truck drivers, and laborers hired by the hour to install the tank and field have little to do but stand by twiddling their thumbs. Now imagine the man decides he must change the oil of his excavator and grease the fittings before he can actually start digging, and proceeds to do this necessary maintenance in front of you and the other workmen who are also getting paid by the hour.
Machinery maintenance is part of the job, no doubt, but the operator should have been done it beforehand at a time and place that would not delay the project and everyone else’s work. Is this analogy always relevant? Perhaps not, but in the eyes of the Client paying the money, relevance be damned, it’s daylight robbery!
The perceptive craftsman will strive to understand his Client’s perspective if he wants to be trusted with profitable repeat work.
Therefore, I don’t sharpen, fettle, or repair my tools at the jobsite anymore than is absolutely necessary, and never in front of the Client or employer. This is not some feel-good yuppy-zen BS, but a serious, concrete work philosophy with physical and financial consequences. It was taught to me by experienced craftsmen in America and Japan, all since retired to the big lumberyard in the sky, who knew what they were about. It has served me well.
So how do I keep working when blades dull, planes stop shaving, power tools stop spinning, and bits stop biting? The most reliable solution is to have multiple saws, planes and chisels in the types/sizes critical for that day’s work, and even extra bits and power tools on-hand whenever possible, so that if a particular chisel or plane becomes too dull to get the job done, or a bit breaks, or a circular saw, for instance, goes tits-up, I need only pause work long enough to retrieve a sharp, ready to rock-n-roll replacement from my toolbox or tool bag.
This means I must purchase, sharpen, fettle and carry around more tools than I am likely to use during that workday. But since I don’t carry my tools in my “pocketses”, and they are partners that earn their keep, I do not consider it wasted money. In fact, this philosophy has resulted in tool-maintenance habits that I believe ultimately save me time and money while improving my work efficiency all while reinforcing my Client’s or employer’s confidence in me, just as the old boys I try to emulate said they would.
Of course, after a few days of continuous work I will have accumulated multiple blades that need sharpening, so if I am to keep making sawdust I must sharpen them in batches of 5~10 at a time. And because I sharpen in batches, as do professional sharpeners, I have given great thought over the years to maximizing positive results such as speed, sharpness achieved, and economical use of stones while minimizing negative results such as rusted steel. I humbly encourage Gentle Reader to give these matters just a few seconds of consideration. What have you got to lose besides steel?
Corrosion Prevention: Wet Sharpening
The bevel of the Hatsukuni blade shown above. An iron pixie’s joy.
The corrosion risk to tools when sharpening is caused by residual water in the scratches, cracks and crevices of the blade, as well as accumulated chlorine from tap water, promoting rust, especially at the very thin cutting edge. Yes, that’s right, I’m more worried about corrosion dulling the cutting edge than of it creating unsightly red spots elsewhere on the blade.
When sharpening a batch of blades in my workshop, after a blade is done on the final finish stone, I dry it with a clean rag or paper towel, apply a few drops of Corrosion Block, smear it around on the blade to ensure a complete coating, and set it aside to draw water out of the pores and seal the steel. It works.
Corrosion-X is another good, but stinkier, product. Neither is good enough long-term, however.
After the blades have sat for a while, usually at the conclusion of the batch, I wipe off the CB and apply CRC 3-36. This is a paraffin-based corrosion preventative that floats out water. Paraffin won’t evaporate or wick-off and is the best product I have found to prevent rust developing on a clean, moisture-free surface.
CRC 3-36 sprays on easily and soaks into everything, and if allowed to dry, will give good long-term protection, as in years. It’s especially good for saw blades because it gets deep into the teeth. But you don’t want to apply it to anything even a little wet with water because paraffin may seal it in promoting rust. Ergo, Corrosion Block first.
There are many rust-prevention products on the market, so I am not suggesting CRC3-36 is the best, only the one I prefer, partly because The Mistress of the Blue Horizons doesn’t object to the smell too strongly if it wafts into her holy chambers from the grubby workshop. If I use Corrosion-X, however, she bars the door with her trusty broom, bayonet fixed and leveled at my genital area, and makes me strip off my stinky clothes before she’ll let me back into the house. My love is a gentle flower… ! With sharp knives…! But I digress.
This system works fine for short-term purposes, and even for long-term storage if I wrap the tool in newspaper or plastic to protect the coating.
When sharpening in the field, or if I will be using the tool right away, I don’t bother with spray products, but just strop the blade on a clean cloth or the palm of my hand to generate friction heat, apply some oil from my oilpot, and call it good.
If you don’t own and use an oilpot already I won’t call you an idiot, but I still remember the time long ago when that word was directed at me by someone I respected for not making and using one. He was right.
A useful trick I learned from professional sword sharpeners in Japan is to use chlorine-free, slightly alkaline water for sharpening. I mix Borax powder with distilled water in a plastic lab bottle to use to keep stones wet and to wash blades when sharpening. Washing soda works too. A little lye added to sharpening water will also increase its pH. Using such water will not entirely prevent corrosion, but it certainly slows it way down. Test it for yourself.
Corrosion Prevention: Handling
We sometimes pull out a chisel, saw, or plane blade to gaze upon it. They are lovely creatures, after all, and deserve our adoration. There are two things to be aware of when doing this, however.
Recall that the adult human body is comprised of approximately 60% water, some of which is constantly leaking out of our skins mixed with oils and salts. When you touch bare steel with your hands, skin oils, sweat, and the salt contained in sweat stick to the steel and will cause rust. It’s only a matter of how quickly and deeply.
The solution is to avoid touching bare steel you will later store away with bare fingers, and if you do touch the blade, wipe it clean and apply some oil from your oilpot or spray can right away before returning it to storage.
Gentle Reader may be unaware, but there can be no doubt that harsh words not only hurt the tender feelings of quality tools, but can directly damage them. How do I know that rude language offends steel tools, you say? Well, I have ears don’t I? In addition, over the years I learned a thing or two from professional Japanese sword sharpeners and evaluators, who are even more obsessed with rust than your paranoid humble servant, no doubt because of the high financial and historical costs of corrosion in rare and expensive antique weapons.
With the gift to the entire world of the Wuhan Flu from Dr. Anthony Fauci (aka Mr. Fake Science) and his Chinese research team, we have all become more aware of the human tendency to constantly spew droplets of bodily fluids, often containing nasty bugs, into the air around us sometimes with unpleasant consequences. A handsaw can’t catch the Fauci Flu, but fine droplets may find their way to the steel surface when we talk to them or around them. Corrosion ensues.
In Japan it is considered rude to speak when holding a bare sword. Indeed, it is SOP to require viewers who will get close to a bare blade to grip a piece of clean paper between their teeth to confirm the mouth is indeed closed and not spewing droplets of spit onto the blade.
I am not exaggerating the cumulative long-term damage fingerprints and moisture droplets expelled from human mouths and noses cause to steel objects. Any museum curator can confirm.
How does this all apply to woodworking tools? If Gentle Reader takes a tool out of storage and either talks to it, or to humans around it, please wipe it clean, apply oil, and rewrap it unless you will be using it immediately. It’s the only polite thing to do.
Tools deserve respect. Perhaps I’m superstitious, but I’m convinced that if we avoid rudely smearing salty sweat or spraying globs of spittle that would cause our tools to turn red and go away, they in turn will be less inclined to cause us to leak red sticky stuff. Some tools are vindictive if offended, donchano, and many of them can bite.
Corrosion Prevention: Storage
The air on this earth contains dust and moisture. Dust often contains abrasive particles harder than steel as well as salts and other corrosive chemicals. We must keep these particles and chemicals away from our tools.
Air also contains moisture that, given access and a temperature differential, can condense on steel tool blades causing condensation rust.
Your humble servant discussed these matters in length in earlier articles about toolchests, but a critical criteria of proper storage is to prevent dust from landing on tools, and to prevent the tools from exposure to airborne moisture and temperature differentials. A closed, tightly sealed, clean container, cabinet, toolchest or toolbox is better for tool storage than pegboards or shelves.
If Gentle Reader does not already have such a tool container of some sort, I urge you to procure or make one.
Tool Rolls
The tool roll at the far left is leather. Notice the rust stains on the roll and the rusted chisel. The cotton canvas tool roll in the center is newer. Notice the rust stains. The 5 chisels in the far right photo were stored in this tool roll for years. Notice the rust. The owner of these tools thought his cloth tool roll was adequate since he just used the chisels for work. The damage is far worse than just cosmetic, however. Wasted time and money. And what does this say about the man?
Your humble servant owns and uses canvas tool rolls because they are handy for transporting tools such as chisels, files, rasps and saws to and from jobsites, but they have limitations of which Gentle Reader should be aware.
The first problem with tool rolls is that they appear to protect the cutting edges of chisels and saws, but that is only wishful thinking because the delicate and dangerous cutting edges are only hidden behind a thin layer of fabric. Guess what happens if you drop a cloth tool roll of sharp chisels onto a concrete slab.
If you bump a tool roll of chisels against another tool, then brush your hand against the now exposed but hidden cutting edges while digging in your toolbox, red sticky stuff may get everywhere. Oh, the humanity! Will this wanton bloodshed never end!?
Do tool rolls protect tools against corrosion? No, in fact they can make it much worse because fibers in contact with steel, especially organic fibers such as cotton, can wick moisture to the steel producing corrosion. Please see the photos above.
Leather tool rolls can be especially bad in some cases because of residual tanning chemicals.
I’m not saying don’t use tool rolls, only to be aware of their limitations and use them wisely.
As mentioned above, I do use fabric tool rolls in the field. The trick to preventing rusted blades is to insulate them from direct contact with the canvas, so I make little plastic liners from the hard but flexible plastic used for theft-proof retail product packaging that fit into the pockets. Just a strip of plastic cut wide enough to fit into the pocket tightly and folded in half. Besides preventing rusty blades (chisel crowns will still rust) these little liners make it much faster and easier to insert blades into the pockets without cutting the tool roll, and to keep the blades from cutting their way out of the tool roll once inserted. The price is right too.
Canvas tool wraps are convenient for transporting handsaws, but they too provide limited protection. I wrap my saw blades in thin polyethylene sheet foam to help protect the teeth, isolate the blade from direct contact with cotton fabric, and add some insulation.
If you need to use tool rolls for long-term storage, I recommend you clean the tools, coat them with a paraffin-based rust-prevention product like CRC3-36, and wrap them full-length in plastic wrap before inserting them into the tool roll’s plastic-lined pockets.
If tools are faithful and profitable servants, indeed extensions of our hands and minds, don’t they deserve more from us while they are in our care than a rusty, pitted, neglected fate like the plane blade pictured above?
YMHOS
Our erstwhile apprentice from the clothing-optional workshop has dropped a chisel into the water while sharpening it, and laments the inevitable corrosion. Being bald as a bowling ball, I’m desperately jealous of her long, curly tresses, but I suppose they must get in the way when sharpening. The sacrifices we make for art…
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please click the “Pricelist” link here or at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with everyone in the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, fascist facebook, or the IT department of the Democrat Congress of the USA and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. If I lie may crickets be my only friends.
Stanley “Stan the Man” Musial, one of baseball’s greatest players and most consistent hitters.
Used to be that bats had thick handles and a big barrel. Then they found it’s not the size of the bat that gets the home run – it’s the speed with which you can swing it.
I think I had the smallest handle around. When I got my bats, I even trimmed them down. I used to scrape them. Some years later when I started getting older, I used to start with a 33 and in the summer it got down to 31 and then probably in September got down to 30.
Stan Musial
In the previous 6 posts in this series we guided Gentle Reader in creating a drawing of a high-performance, minimalist handle to fit your gennou head and body closely.
The handle in this drawing may not fit your body and the way you work perfectly at first; It may require adjustment, but it is a good place to start.
Keep this drawing so you can remember what you based the original design on to help you analyze and record improvements for your next new-and-improved handle.
With the initial design complete and recorded in your drawing, the next step in this epic adventure of love, lust and sawdust is to select a stick of wood. Oh joy!
Your humble servant will not be so forward as to recommend a specific wood Gentle Reader should use. Instead, let’s consider some performance criteria first.
The quotes above by Stan the Man Musial, a famous baseball player and coach that made a career swinging wood fast and with great precision, are especially relevant to the subject of gennou handles.
Please remember that, just like a baseball bat, a slender hammer handle is almost always superior to a fat one, and its length requires experimentation and adjustment to get right. And of course, being a minimalist, relatively slender instrument, it must be made from a piece of wood that can handle the forces that will act on it.
Strength & Toughness
Hammer handles are subject to relatively high impact forces during use which produce stresses and vibration, so the wood must be not only strong, as in resistant to compression, tension and bending forces, but tough. It must also have properly oriented grain.
Softer woods are easy to work and feel good in the hand, but the tenon of a gennou handle made from a soft wood such as pine, cedar, poplar or maybe even cherry, for example, will often loosen quickly as thousands of impact forces over time crush the cells.
In addition, since the fit between tenon and eye must be very tight indeed, the process of driving a properly-sized tenon into the eye will not be easy. Your humble servant has broken more than one handle while attempting this. The last instance was a few years ago with a gennou handle I made from Chinese mulberry, a wood cherished in Japan for fine cabinetry work and of which I am unreasonably fond due to it’s dramatic grain, its golden color when freshly cut, and the purplish-brown color it changes to over time. I suspected it might be too weak for the job, but tried anyway. A sad waste of time and beautiful wood.
BTW, if you have the opportunity to use mulberry wood for cabinet or joinery work, by all means give it a try. I think you will be pleasantly surprised especially as the item made from the wood ages.
Chinese Mulberry Wood
The material you ultimately select must be both strong and tough, but it is important to understand the difference between strength and toughness when considering materials.
The term “tough” in engineering parlance means a material has the ability to absorb energy and/or forces without permanently deforming or breaking. A tough wood will still deform and bend, but when the forces that caused it to deform/bend are removed, it will return to its original shape instead of being permanently bent or breaking. In the case of a handle, if it is tough, it will flex somewhat and return to its original shape all without rupturing.
Gentle Readers are, without exception, highly intelligent, possessing a refined eye and therefore will of course be tempted to use beautiful, dark exotic hardwoods such as ebony, rosewood, bubinga, wenge, kingwood, snakewood, etc.. These are fine woods that make beautiful handles, but I don’t recommend them for a first handle due to their high cost and the likelihood that Gentle Reader will want to replace the first handle you make, and maybe even the second and third, as your skills and understanding of the handle that best suits body and working style improves with time and experience.
And while they may have beautiful color, sexy figure, and great compressive strength, many exotic woods like ebony and rosewood are very strong in compression, but sometimes lack adequate toughness in some (but not all) cases, and crack easily. And the extra weight of such dense woods is seldom an advantage.
Your humble servant has used them successfully, and so won’t suggest they can’t make fine handles, but I simply urge Gentle Reader to be cognizant of the higher risk of failure. If you choose to use an exotic hardwood, please be especially careful of runout, a subject we will discuss below.
Friction
If you consider the vibration and angular acceleration forces acting on the gennou’s head and handle, you will understand the wisdom of choosing a wood that has a high coefficient of friction. Take my word that it is embarrassing to have the head slip off the handle mid-swing even if no one but your bench dogs are watching.
Oily woods like teak lack adequate friction to keep head and handle attached, in my experience. Bocote is another wood that tends to allow Murphy to slip the head off and create unplanned openings in gypboard walls. (ツ)
Stability
Another important performance criteria to consider when selecting a species of wood is that it be stable and exhibit minimal expansion/contraction with humidity changes.
If the wood forming the tenon connecting handle to head shrinks too much when the ambient humidity decreases, the head will of course loosen.
If the tenon swells too much when ambient humidity increases, the wood cells may be crushed inside the unblinking steel eye causing the tenon to lose the ability to spring back to its original dimensions when humidity again increases, eventually resulting in a loose head. To make matters worse, the handle will then loosen up even more when the humidity drops again. Murphy does backwards somersaults and clicks his thorny heels at the apex while cackling with demented glee when this occurs.
This detrimental plastic deformation is the big downside to kigoroshi in hardwoods. Let he who has ears to hear listen.
I encourage you to use a wood with a low tangential/radial expansion/contraction ratio.
The traditional way to deal with tangential/radial expansion/contraction in tool handles such as hammers and axes is to orient the rings of winter wood in the tenon in the long axis of the hammer head/eye. I don’t think this matters much with small hammers with small eyes, but it can make a difference in larger hammer heads with long eyes.
Limb Wood
It’s tempting to use limb wood or orchard trimmings to make handles, especially if the grain’s curvature matches the intended design. And leaving some of the natural bark in the grip area can be interesting too. In fact, there was a period a few years back here in Japan when, probably due to the kezuroukai effect, many people were making handles from mountain cherry wood with the shiny dark-red bark left attached in the grip area.
This is a grand idea, especially if it means you can procure good wood for free. But for heaven’s sake don’t use such wood until it is well-seasoned and stable or you may find your wall has a new dent and your bench dog and his fleas have fled, or your bench kitty has started muttering to the iron pixies skulking in your shop about your parentage and the size of the bus you rode to elementary school. Cats are like that, you know.
Wood Grain and Runout
Many fail to understand or choose to willfully ignore the contents of this section, but I adjure Gentle Reader to not be a chuckle head.
Grain runout is an important factor to take into account when selecting a piece of wood for a handle. A good definition of runout is as follows:
“Runout refers to the orientation of wood cells being other than parallel to the edge (face) of the board. Often difficult to detect visually, severe runout can be detrimental to strength and resistance to vibration and impact forces.”
When a board’s annual rings do not remain within the boundaries of a given pattern, be it straight or curved, the locations where the grain exits the pattern’s boundaries are called “runout.” This is an engineering term used in structural design that is applicable to selecting handle wood. In this case, it has nothing to do with the rotation of wheels and gears. Cracks tend to begin at runout locations and propagate quickly. Excessive runout can significantly reduce the ultimate strength of a board, especially when subjected to the impacts and bending forces of the sort tool handles experience.
In the case of a hammer handle, these potentially destructive forces are of greatest magnitude nearest the eye, and tend to make the handle crack along the leading edge and back edge of the handle, so we need to reduce the lines in the grain running-out and exiting the handle near the eye and at the back and front of the handle.
There are those who will dispute this structural reality, but they have done neither the engineering studies nor the destructive testing that would give their opinions value, and are herewith directed to proceed posthaste to a pharmacy to procure the salve Mifune Toshiro recommended to the tattooed criminals in the movie “Yojimbo” before educating them about pain.
Whatever wood you use, and this is extremely important, you want the grain runout to be minimal, especially in the tenon and neck. Ideally, the grain will exhibit zero runout through the tenon and neck and be curved to match the handle shape. In other words, the ideal stick of wood will have a high-percentage of fibers that are continuous from eye to butt. Such wood can be found but it may take time and effort and eye strain to select. Using riven wood is a traditional way to reduce runout and provide maximum strength. On the other hand, some gradual runout in the grip area is usually acceptable.
Here is wisdom: The key to judging runout is to not examine just the board, but more importantly the individual stick of wood you are considering using for a handle after it has been cut into a rectangular cross-section in preparation for layout because only when you can see all four sides the handle’s entire length will you be able to reliably judge runout. Murphy will make a fool of you if you let him.
The following link may be informative on the subject of runout: Link 1
Useful Woods
In Japan, the best traditional woods for tool handles are said to be Soraki and Ushikoroshi, both domestic ornamental bushes with white wood and plain-jane grain which are no longer grown commercially and are difficult to obtain. We have a few sticks in-stock for interested parties.
A Hiroki head with a Ushikoroshi wood handle
Nowadays Japanese White Oak is the standard handle wood in Japan. It is denser, stronger and whiter in color than its American and European counterparts, but the grain is quite plain.
Hickory is recognized world-over as the best generally-available material for handles, but it’s grain and color are boring. It should be easy for Gentle Readers to procure since it is sold as replacement tool and axe handles in most hardware and home centers.
Black Persimmon Planks
Other reliable options are Ash, the various species of White Oak, Maple, and Birch, etc..
I have made several handles from Black Persimmon, a fruitwood in the ebony family, yellowish in color but with a dramatic, smoky black grain. Black Persimmon has been highly prized in Japan for hundreds of years as a wood for high-end cabinetry. The grain and color are unique.
Since around 1900, American Persimmon was considered the best wood for golf club heads because of its toughness, the “pop” it gave the ball on impact, and its relative light weight compared to its toughness. It makes a great gennou handle. I am told it is still available in some areas.
A Kosaburo Classic-profile head with a Black Persimmon handleA Kosaburo Modern-profile head with a Black Persimmon handle
I have also made handles from American Osage Orange, a dense, stringy wood used for bows and musical instruments that makes an extremely good handle, at least once the scary neon orange color mellows through exposure to sunlight. I highly recommend it, especially if you can get it for free, which shouldn’t be too difficult in the US Midwest where it was once used extensively for fenceposts and still grows like weeds around old fence lines.
Just make sure it has reached equilibrium moisture content before making a handle from it.
Top: A 100monme Hiroki Yamakichi head with a new and shockingly-colored American Osage Orange handle. Bottom: A 60monme Kosaburo Classic-profile head with a mellowed American Osage Orange handle.
Maple can make an excellent handle too. I used a stick of highly-figured tiger stripe maple for the daruma gennou handle below, and another piece of Maple with only a little figure for the smaller daruma gennou further below.
A 80monme Hiroki Daruma head with a tiger maple handle (side view)A 80monme Hiroki Daruma head with a tiger maple handle (face)A 60monme Hiroki Daruma head with a tiger maple handle (side view)A 60monme Hiroki Daruma head with a tiger maple handle (face view)
In the next post in this series we will layout our handle in preparation for making sawdust.
YMHOS
Stan the Man Musial. Please notice the skinny bat he used with great success.
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please click the “Pricelist” link here or at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with everyone in the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, fascist facebook, or thuggish Twitter and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. If I lie may all my hammer handles split!
Art is born of craftsmen. Art is not born of those called artists.
Tsunekazu Nishioka and Horin Matsuhisa “The Heart of Trees, the Heart of Buddha”
Having worked in architecture and construction in Japan for more than half of my life, your humble servant is fond of Japanese traditional wooden architecture. It has much to recommend it, not only for the visual beauty of the designs and the spacial experiences it often provides, but also the excellence of much of it’s execution, made possible through craftsmen’s skill with Japan’s excellent woodworking tools.
In this post we will examine a few details of Japanese traditional architecture, and the Japanese language phrase one structural member engendered, the origin of which even most Japanese are unaware. Perhaps Gentle Readers will find this obscure phrase as interesting as your humble servant does.
The linguistically-intriguing architectural detail that is the primary subject of this article is a wooden structural member called the “en no shita no chikara mochi.”（縁の下の力持ち）which translates to “Strongman under the veranda.”
Some background is called for. As you can see from the photo at the top of this page, traditional wooden Japanese buildings are raised above the surrounding ground by a step or three with an ventilated crawl space beneath the floor. This is a practical feature commonly found in many countries, especially those with high groundwater levels, where it serves to keep soil dampness from penetrating the interior spaces thereby forestalling mold and wood rot.
In Japan, where exterior spaces, such as gardens, landscapes and even celestial spaces (e.g. moon viewing platforms) have been incorporated into buildings, the step up into the building is an important division between interior and exterior spaces. One may wear shoes into the entryway “genkan” of a building, but they must be removed before stepping up and entering the building proper. The genkan, therefore, being behind doors, is both an interior and exterior space. The wooden elevated veranda walkway around the perimeter of the building, called the “engawa” 縁側 in traditional Japanese architecture even moreso.
An engawa veranda in a traditional wooden structure. Notice the step-up from the ground level to the wooden veranda and an additional elevation change when entering the building’s interior with tatami-mat floors. Notice also the worse-for-wear sliding shoji screen doors to the left which separate interior and exterior spaces when closed, but expand the room into the garden when open. Please also notice, if you can, the groove cut into the floor of the veranda near the exterior edge in which lightweight wooden sliding doors called “amado,” meaning “rain doors” slide to enclose and protect the veranda when necessary. To the right of the veranda you can see a gravel-filled drainage trench constructed to receive rainwater dripping from the eaves instead of obtrusive, rudely gurgling rain gutters and pipes. Sitting on fragrant tatami mats, or on the wooden engawa floor with the shoji screens open of a spring evening or autumn afternoon while gazing out at a beautiful garden and listening to the sound of rainwater gently pattering on this gravel is a combination of sensory delights with which I hope Gentle Readers will someday be blessed.Sorakuen in Kobe, Japan
The floor of the building is supported by a series of beams and purlins called “ Strongmen.” Those at the veranda are called “en no shita no chikaramochi” 縁の下の力持ち meaning “strongmen under the veranda.” In traditional Japanese architecture the veranda structure is designed so that these beams are both cantilevered and partially concealed creating a lightweight feeling, even giving the impression that the veranda floor is almost floating in air when viewed from some angles. The chikaramochi (chee/kah/rah/moh/chee) beams are seldom seen by the building’s residents, but without them, a building could not have a raised floor and would inevitably fail.
A phalanx of noble dragons supporting the first floor of the Taishakuten temple in Tokyo. In traditional Japanese architecture, ordinary uncarved beams supporting the floor in this way are called “En no shita no chikara mochi.”（縁の下の力持ち）which translates to “Strongman under the floor.” In the Japanese tradition, the dragon is a benevolent, noble creature that travels between oceans and heaven. The brackets supported on each dragon’s head in this photo represent clouds, as if the dragon team of strongmen are carrying the building through the heavens. In this case, the dragons have three toes on each foot, indicating that this is a private temple. Only dragons in imperial temples were allowed five toes.Another noble dragon with waves at his feet and the kumimono clouds on his head. Amazing carving work.
Most Japanese people know and use the idiom without realizing it refers to this structural support.
To refer to someone as being a “Strongman Under the Floor” is to imply they are an “unsung hero,” or a person who quietly, selflessly and competently serves society and others by performing important but unseen tasks as a member of a team. From the Japanese dictionary it means “someone who toils diligently to support others in unseen ways and without recognition.” I salute all such strongmen, especially in the crafts and construction industry.
In our times we see an increasing trend for people in the public eye, especially actors, artists, musicians, politicians, journalists and the so-called “influencers” to display ghastly and even pyrotechnic levels of psychotic narcissism, the less talent and fewer accomplishments possessed the greater their frenzy to attract attention. These foul-mouthed, low-intelligence, often wealthy sociopaths, devoted to self-aggrandizement and the debasement of anything truly admirable, demand not only our unreserved celebration of their psychosis, but compliance with their ever-changing immoral opinions.
In situations in recorded history, where individuals with a similar psychosis have managed to grab unlimited power, they have shed rivers of innocent blood. A former leader of the Soviet Union, himself a remorseless dictator dedicated to the destruction of Western democracies, enslavement of entire nations, and with the blood of millions on his hands once called such narcissists “useful idiots,” and made a science of how to foster and effectively use them to destroy entire nations. His work continues even today.
But while narcissists, sociopaths and their sycophant useful idiots receive all the attention, and sadly, praise, it is the stable, moral, selfless, hard-working common people that build, renew, defend and perpetuate decent societies. In your humble servant’s opinion it is these good people that are the “Strongmen Under the Vernda” that deserve our true respect.
The photos above and below show a happy team of noble three-toed dragons serving as “en no shita no chikara mochi” supporting the first floor of the Taishakuten Buddhist temple in Tokyo. A thankless but important task these several-dozen hand-carved zelkova-wood dragons perform with energetic poise and a toothy grin. Bravo!
A phalanx of noble “strongmen” supporting a lavish veranda. These brave dragons straddle the waves of the oceans below them, and support wooden kumimono brackets which represent the clouds of heaven, on their prickly heads. The symbolism of these intricate carvings and complicated structural details is by no means haphazard.
Many professional woodworkers and blacksmiths are much the same as these dragons: inconspicuous, honest, hard-working, competently supporting the world within their scope without complaint, often with understated style.
YMHOS
The main entry into the Taishakuten temple. The carved figures at the top of the columns facing outwards to the left are Chinese Lions whose job it is to protect the holy precinct from demons and evil spirits. The figure with the elephant-like nose carved into the beam-end facing Gentle Reader is a mythical creature called a “Baku” 貘, a generally benevolent creature that eats bad dreams. The complicated brackets (called “kumimono”) supported on the columns have a structural purpose, of course, but in traditional Buddhist architecture they represent clouds, reflecting the link between the building and the heavens. Can’t have demons, evil spirits or bad dreams nesting up in there! Notice that, while the ends of the kumimono brackets have been painted white, the carved beams and columns are unvarnished, hand-planed, never-sanded Zelkova wood. Counter-intuitive though it may seem, hand-planed wood exposed to the environment lasts longer than if it was finished with abrasives and varnished or painted.Mr. ShishiMrs. ShishiA mated pair of carved and lacquered Chinese lions protecting the gateway to a temple. Mr. Shishi can be bad news, but whatever you do, don’t mess with Mama Shishi, especially if her babies are nearby. Indeed, she’s already poised to bite.A bronze statue of a BakuA closeup of a carved Baku beam-end
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please click the see the “Pricelist” link here or at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with everyone in the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, fascist facebook, or treacherous TikTok and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. If I lie may Mama Shishi bite my head off.
Just ask the next baku you meet if it ain’t so. They can’t tell a lie you know.
Dom Campbell’s in-progress atedai, and a few of the tools he used, including a most excellent gennou with a Kosaburo head and a handle he made himself.
Used to be that bats had thick handles and a big barrel. Then they found it’s not the size of the bat that gets the home run – it’s the speed with which you can swing it.
Stan Musial
In the previous five posts in this sub-series about making a drawing for a high-performance custom gennou handle, we measured various dimensions and incorporated them into our drawing. In this post we will bring everything together, and then discuss some of the strange features of this design, including a physics equation that drives it.
During this phase of the handle-making process you will have another opportunity to express the minimalist artiste lounging stylishly within your soul, probably wearing a cravat and sipping brandy stylishly.C’est Magnifique!
The Sides
Let’s start work by drawing the butt’s width, determined in the previous post, on the plan view (upper half of the drawing above) centered on the handle’s centerline.
Next, once again in the plan view (upper half of the drawing above), draw two lines from where the tenon exits the eye to the butt.
Beginning at the grip area, draw curves from these two lines to to the right and left sides of the butt in a smooth transition, gradually expanding in width. The curvature/flair you produce will depend on the size of your grip, the width of the butt, and your sense of what makes a beautiful line. Feeling artistic yet? More brandy please.
Whither the Bulge?
Gentle Readers will have noticed from the drawings and photographs in this series so far that, unlike commercial handles, the handle we are designing does NOT exhibit a cancerous swell just below the eye. Make no mistake, this is not an error of omission nor the would-be supermodel in me seeking skinny expression! Remember, we are making a lean, mean, racing machine, not a nail bender with a sloppy eye and mass-produced tenon that needs wedges to hold it together.
This shape, with its narrow neck, flare towards the butt, and lack of the typical bulge below the eye strikes most people as strange, so an explanation may be useful.
To begin with, Japanese gennou heads of the quality assumed in this article are not secured with wedges, but by an extremely tight fit between the wooden tenon of the handle and the surfaces inside the precision-forged eye. Indeed, the fit should be so tight that, if by accident or some terrible oversight, one attempts to drive the tenon of a handle made from a wood too weak for the job into the head’s eye, the handle and/or tenon will fracture. Your humble servant has done this several times. Such a tight fit does not occur by accident.
Because it is a craftsman’s hammer, not a wood butcher’s maul, there are no wedges to split the handle, and therefore no need for a tumor below the eye to both reinforce the sloppily-made handle and to keep the wedge from pushing the head down the handle.
Indeed, without the cancerous bulge, if the handle loosens sometime in the future, tapping the handle further into the eye will tighten it up, something a bulge would make impossible. Best to eliminate unsightly, unnecessary bulges entirely.
To ensure this fit is indeed tight and secure, Gentle Reader may need to rework the eye of a lessor-quality head with files. Heads by Hiroki or Kosaburo never require this effort due to the excellent precision of their eyes, BTW, saving lots of time and blisters. I will assume any such rework, if necessary, has already been completed.
Gentle Reader must use a strong, tough wood suitable to the task. The selection of wood will be the subject of the next chapter in this series.
You will also need to cut a properly-sized tenon on the handle’s end.
Formula for Air Resistance
Your humble servant has previously suggested that the handle we are designing will be a “high-performance tool,” indeed a “racing machine.” While not in the same class as a Formula-1 race car, air resistance is definitely a factor affecting performance, one impeded by an unnecessarily large hammer face, a thick, obese handle, and a bulge below the eye as is typical for commercial handles.
Why is air resistance an issue, you say? Of all the hand tools used in woodworking, aside from the long-handled axe and maul, the hammer is the one that moves the fastest, and since air resistance varies with the square of the object’s velocity, hammers, mauls and axes are impeded by air resistance more than any other hand tools. And remember, pushing all that air around unnecessarily wastes your energy.
For those Gentle Readers that enjoy math, the formula for calculating air resistance includes the area of the object, a drag coefficient specific to the object’s shape, and the object’s velocity squared.
F = Force due to air resistance, or drag (N)
k = A constant that combines the effects of density, drag, and area (kg/m)
v = The velocity of the moving object (m/s)
ρ = The density of the air the object moves through (kg/m3)
CD = The drag coefficient, includes hard-to-measure effects (unit-less)
A = The area of the object the air presses on (m2)
We can’t control air density.
The total CD drag coefficient is a combination of the CDhead of the head and the CDhandle of the handle. We can reduce this combined Total CD by using a more aerodynamic steel hammer instead of a huge, silly mallet, and by reducing the area of the handle pushing the air aside during the swing. I haven’t made the calculations, but the energy squandered by the excess drag of an obese handle over thousands of swings during a day’s work is not insignificant.
The Elegant Neck
Gentle Reader will recall that the handle we are designing has a narrow neck sans the unsightly bulge that grows on commercial handles. In addition to reducing the area “A ” in the equation above, and thereby the air drag acting on the hammer, this slender neck greatly reduces vibration transmitted to the user’s hand, saving wear and tear on joints. This alone makes it a worthwhile improvement in my experience.
But all is not blue bunnies and fairy farts, I fear, for there are two downsides to a skinny super-model neck on a handle. First, if you tend to miss a lot when driving nails and bang the nail heads with the hammer’s handle instead of it’s face, revengeful nail may chew up the handle in an area where there is not much material to spare weakening the handle. Gentle Reader would be fully justified in blaming this damage on the malfeasance of malicious pixies, or the luck of Murphy, but my advice is: don’t miss.
The second downside to a slender neck in a gennou handle is that it’s inconvenient for choking-up on. But on second thought, that’s not a disadvantage to anyone except grannies, bless their fluffy-white souls. The solution? Don’t choke up on the handle; The grip is the grip.
All Choked Up
Commercial hammer handles are a one-size-fits-nobody design, intended to accommodate many grip styles, apparently by many species, along most of the handle’s length. Holding the hammer like a hungry troll tenderizing a dwarf for the stewpot (perhaps with a delicate sprinkle of sage or a more bold glob of “floater” spice), and choking up on the grip like a near-sighted grandmother is the lowest-common-denominator design standard for commercial hammers, a crude detail simply not to be borne by C&S Tool’s Beloved Customers and the exceedingly refined Gentle Readers of this blog.
“They should be grilled and sautéed with a sprinkle of sage”
The ultimate goal of this exercise is to produce a hammer that fits Gentle Reader’s body perfectly, not every Tom, Burt or William that staggers into The Home Despot from the Ettenmoors. It will fit your arm, and your hand, and your grip without choking-up on it.
What’s wrong with choking up on the handle? What’s that? Did I just hear you say: “If it’s good enough for Granny it’s good enough for me?” If so we may need to procure more of the salve Mifune Toshiro lamented not having.
Choking up on the handle is inefficient for two reasons. First, because it changes the balance of the hammer and your working rhythm (pendulum physics). This is bad.
Second, when you choke up on the handle, for at least a couple of strikes you lose the sense of the distance from your hand to the striking face’s center, reducing both your precision and confidence, and the energy imparted to the chisel or nail. Reestablishing the correct distance in your mind requires a glance at the hammer, an adjustment in your head, and an interruption in your hammering rhythm. All this nonsense is easily avoided by gripping the handle in the same location every time.
You have basically designed most of the grip’s details when you set the butt’s shape and dimensions, and the location of your palm’s heel, index finger, and pinkie finger. I suggest you leave well-enough alone for now, and, assuming this is your first custom handle, make it a tad oversized at first, and then whittle, shave, and sand it as you use it until it fits you perfectly.
In the next post in this series we will select a piece of wood from which to make our craftsman’s gennou handle. Soon we will be making sawdust… how exciting!
YMHOS
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please see the “Pricelist” link at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with everyone in the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, facist facebook, or thuggish Twitter and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. If I lie may the heads fly off all my hammers and each break window!
A 200monme (750gm/26oz) classic-profile gennou with a black persimmon wood handle. Notice the swollen area near the eye of this archaic design
“The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with eager feet,
Until it joins some larger way
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
In this post your humble servant will introduce a famous modern-day Japanese gennou hammer blacksmith and a somewhat archaic product he infrequently forged. It is our fervent hope to provide Gentle Readers some insight into the world of the Japanese blacksmiths of yesteryear.
Hasegawa Kosaburo
Let’s begin with some background about the gennou (hammer) blacksmith known as “Kosaburo.”
Hasegawa Kosaburo 長谷川幸三郎 was born Sakai Kosaburo in 1935 in Sanjo City in Niigata prefecture Japan, the third son of a pruning shear blacksmith. He married and was adopted into the Hasegawa family and changed his legal name from Sakai to Hasegawa, a tradition in Japan used to maintain genealogical lines in the case of acute male heir deficiency.
The Hasegawa family were blacksmiths that specialized in mass-producing hammer heads.
Kosaburo worked in the family business but eventually tired of factory work and began working with his adopted brother, Hasegawa Kanichiro, who later became famous for his “Hishikan” brand gennou heads. After 10 years of practical experience in both mass-producing and hand-forging gennou heads, Kosaburo decided to devote himself to the deceptively-difficult work of hand-forging high-quality gennou heads, eventually becoming independent under his own “Kosaburo” brand.
A more detailed description of Hasegawa Kosaburo’s life and work is found at this webpage. Sorry it’s in Japanese.
Here is a video of Hasegawa-san forging a modern-profile gennou with laminated steel faces, a common method worldwide when steel was still expensive. Seeing this I think you can understand how the swell discussed below was a standard feature of forged hammers throughout most of human history.
Mr. Hasegawa has since moved on to the big woodpile in the sky where he is probably cutting charcoal. His products are no longer being manufactured, of course, but even when he was active, Kosaburo products were widely recognized as the best-quality gennou heads ever produced in Japan. At this juncture, I believe Hiroki heads are the very best new heads available.
Kosaburo’s Students
Kosaburo trained two gennou blacksmiths that are still active today: Baba Masayuki (born 1949), who uses the brand name “Doshinsai Masaykui” (道心斎正行), and Aida Hiroki (born 1964), who uses the brand name “Hiroki” (浩樹).
Mr. Baba produces beautiful decorative gennou heads. Sadly, I am not fond of his products because, in my direct experience, sometimes the eyes are not true. Am I being too severe? Should I value external beauty foremost and wink at the ugly void where the handle attaches?
Here’s my thought process in the matter; You must judge for yourself. Decoration can compensate for many shortcomings, but the used car salesman’s schtick that “It isn’t a flaw, it’s a feature” doesn’t impress me, at least not in a tool as simple as a hammer head and at the prices for which his products sell. Kinda like the city slicker who paid a high price for a stunningly beautiful Arabian horse named “tripod” and justified its missing leg because it had three good ones left, and the hopping was not really that noticeable. For me, craftsmanship and functionality take precedence over decoration. But I won’t tell you what you should think because, well, that’s your wife’s job. (ツ)
Mr. Aida’s products, on the other hand, are less decorative but of accurate construction and hardness of the sort that makes the hearts of true craftsmen sing. Making a precise, properly-forged and differentially-hardened gennou head (hard face but soft body) is no mean feat. When I can’t get Kosaburo heads, Mr. Aida’s Hiroki brand are my next choice. The last I asked Mr. Aida, he had a three-year waiting list for his products. Very popular over here.
Most blacksmith’s shops are dark, dirty, smoky places like a dungeon in hell minus the demon torturers, lakes of blood, and the bitter stink of rotisserie lawyers, but when I visited Mr. Aida’s forge I found it to be neater, cleaner, and tidier than most CNC machine shops.
The Classic-profile Gennou Head
The head pictured in this article is the primary subject of this article. It’s an antique style seldom seen anymore, one that was once the standard shape for blacksmith-forged heads throughout most of the world. I like to call it the “classic profile” gennou head. It really doesn’t have a specific name in Japanese that I have been able to discover.
The polished areas at each striking face are non-functional vestiges of the laminated steel faces applied to gennou heads back when steel was very expensive.Please be aware that, while new, this head is old-stock, at least 40 years old. Notice the eye. Not only are its dimensions perfect, but it is centered in the body and aligned with the head’s axis in both directions. Not an easy thing to do by hand in yellow-hot steel.
We have a few of these in-stock, but they are now serious collector’s items and pricey. Few were ever made in this style and I have never seen one in an auction. Please be aware that the head shown is old-stock, at least 40 years old. During those years in storage in a cardboard box the head developed some surface rust of the sort antique dealers call “patina” in reverent tones which is easily removed, but no deep pitting.
The shape is subtle. The swollen waist is a feature all hammer heads worldwide once exhibited, a remnant of the blacksmith driving a steel drift into the yellow-hot head to form the eye into which the handle’s tenon fits. Kosaburo used this same technique to create his eyes, as does Hiroki nowadays, as seen in the video linked to above.
Traditionally this swell was very roughly formed, but Kosaburo carefully hand-filed the swells to be smooth and uniform. I am told by those who know how these things are done that it is much more work to create a pretty swell like this than to quickly grind a head into the modern shape with a uniform waist and flared faces.
From a physics viewpoint, given the same total weight, the modern-style gennou head with its narrower waist and flared faces will have a higher moment of inertia, and will therefore be more resistant to twisting out of alignment during the swing. The flared faces of the modern design also have the advantage of protecting the waist from wear and scratches when the hammer is laid on the ground or on concrete. Most people think the modern design with its flared faces to be a more attractive product. I did too until I purchased my first classic-profile head.
You will of course wonder why Kosaburo bothered to even forge this strange antique-style head. I once asked the same question to an ancient joiner that used this style of gennou head. He was much senior to Mr. Hasegawa, BTW. His answer was three-fold:
First, nostalgia. Remember, he was an old dude back when I was a younger man.
Second, while you may not think so, this shape is more difficult to produce by hand than the modern style, and although it is undeniably “jimi” (地味), meaning plain, or understated, those who know the difference appreciate the subtle details of this design. Very much a wabi sabi thing, one only true craftsmen understand. Remember, ancient dude. I thought he was full of crap at the time. Not anymore.
Third, the swell allows one to use the side of the hammer to drive nails or bang wood in tight spaces. Finish carpenters, joiners and cabinetmakers have this need, as I know from my days in the business. Many Western claw hammers have this ability, but the modern-style gennou head simply doesn’t.
So we have nostalgia, aesthetics, and functionality as factors. As far as I’m concerned, that’s a home run, baby!
This was once the standard profile for gennou heads in Japan, but sometime in the late 1890’s, I am told by people who study these things, and perhaps due to the direct influence of an exceptionally talented master blacksmith named Chiyozuru Korehide, the modern profile head with the flared ends and lacking the swell around the eye became popular.
Any old-fashioned styles that appeal to you?
YMHOS
Nostalgic, aesthetically interesting, and functional.Nostalgic, aesthetically interesting, and functional.
If you have private questions or would like to receive information about our tools, please use the contact form located immediately below. Or you can view this link to our pricelist and photos of this gennou head. Please share your insights and comments with everyone using the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, incompetent facebook, or thuggish Twitter and so absolutely will not share, sell, or profitably misplace your information. That would be theft. Cross my heart and hope to die.
The Christian does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us.
C.S. Lewis
In this post we will continue working on the design drawing of a craftsman’s gennou hammer handle designed and made to specifically fit Gentle Reader’s body and way of working.
We will layout the top and bottom of the grip area, and include clearance for Gentle Reader’s pinkie finger. The resulting curvature will ensure the striking face will be in proper alignment with either chisel or nail when in use, providing improved accuracy and efficiency, while reducing stresses on joints.
Adding the Top and Bottom Edges
We touched on the shapes of these edges in a previous post, but the time has come to add the lines to our drawing. In a previous article in this series ( links below) we extended the two lines in the side view drawing from the eye straight back towards the butt.
With the butt sketched on the drawing with the lowest edge of its downward-facing radius just touching the head’s “striking face plane,” draw an arc the length of your grip from the heel of your palm to the second joint of your index finger, with the compass’s leg pivoting on the intersection of the overall-length line, and top edge of the butt.
Then draw a straight line between the intersection of the OAL line and butt’s upper edge and the top line that you extended from the eye previously. This line will be angled downwards toward the butt.
Next draw a straight line from the intersection of the OAL line over and just touching the pinkie finger circle, until it intersects the bottom line extended from the eye. Combined with your body, and nature of your individual swing, the angle of this line will determine the angle of the head at the point of impact.
Since everyone is different, only you can decide what angle works best for you. These guidelines are a good place to start, but understand you may need to modify or remake the handle until you find the angle that works best for you. By recording the angle in a drawing each time you can adjust it to find the angle that works best for you.
Now smooth out the transition of these lines into a smooth curve, with all edges relieved and radiused, but without making the top edge of the grip area too rounded.
Some people prefer to make these lines and the handle more or less straight, and to change the angle of the handle abruptly at the point where the handle exits the head’s eye producing a handle that is straight over most of its length. Make no mistake: this is entirely acceptable, but realize such a design must rely on either really tough wood with interlocked grain at the point of transition or an unusual natural kink in the grain direction to avoid eventual failure.
I prefer to deal with this change in angle by using a smooth curvature instead. I think it looks better. I know it fits my hand better. It is easier to find wood with a gradual curvature than kinked grain. And my engineering background tells me that I want to avoid sudden transitions that induce stress concentrations, especially where steel meets wood and when grain runout is possible. But it is your decision.
Draw the curves with a pencil, then erase and redraw, erase and redraw until it looks right.
In the next post we will add the handle’s sides to our drawing.
BTW, links to all the published posts in this series are located below.
The handle is gripped diagonally across the palm.Please notice the primary contact points at the palm’s heel and base of forefinger
The grip viewed from below (flat striking face). Notice how the handle is pinched between the first joint of the forefinger and thumb, not in a clumsy hobbit-killer fist.The grip viewed from above (domed striking face) in the style made famous among golfers by Ben Hogan.
YMHOS
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please see the “Pricelist” link at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with everyone in the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, facist facebook, or thuggish Twitter and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. If I lie may the bird of paradise fly up my nose.
The wiser a man is, the more he stands ready to be educated.”
Joe Abercrombie, A Little Hatred
In this post your humble servant will offer some advice that, if followed, will save Gentle Readers time, money, and wear and tear on their valuable woodworking tools. These are not original techniques; I stole them long ago from professional woodworkers in Japan. Wise Gentle Readers will be as bold.
But first we must solve another mystery, so prepare to enlist the help of your inner Agatha Christy.
As with the other mysteries we have examined, this one involves no dark and foreboding alleys shrouded by ominous mist and concealing footpads with rubber knives, or bottles of vintage Tabasco Sauce spiked with arsenic. Indeed, nothing so mundane.
Investigating the Scene of the Crime
Last December your humble servant received an ordinary Christmas Card from an old friend, probably a “re-gift.” It was unusual in that it contained brick dust. The sender of the card was my old friend Woody, a charming fellow, diligent woodworker, amateur thespian, and possible alcoholic. Gentle Reader may recall this gentleman from a previous adventure I wrote about called The Mystery of the Brittle Blade. Wait a minute! Now that I think about it, you went with me to visit Woody at that time and actually helped solve his little mystery. Thanks for your help!
BTW, the screenplay for that story is currently being reviewed by top producers and directors in Hollywood, at least that’s what the movie promoter I met at Krispy Creme Donuts here in Tokyo promised (ツ). He seemed like a reliable guy so I paid for his donuts and coffee.
Obviously, Woody’s dusty Christmas Card was a subtle cry for help so I went to visit him in his rickety, leaning workshop during my international travels last January. When I got onto the airplane I was shocked to find myself only one of approximately sixty travelers on a commercial flight that normally carries 350+ passengers, so I reclined across the center aisle of seats in cattle-class and slept like Nero after a night on the town.
Gentle Reader may recall Woody’s shop from the visit we made there together. Yes, it’s, still cold and dark and filled with the pungent funk of his faithful mutt Stinky.
Upon entering his shop I found Woody collapsed on the floor, an empty tequila bottle in one hand and a shiny bronze No.4 smoothing plane by Lie-Nielson in the other blubbering like a fool and muttering something like “Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come.” Woody ain’t much of a scholar but he has a romantic soul that sees every difficulty in life as Shakespearean in nature.
Seeing that my friend would be of no help in solving this mystery, I left him on the floor to practice his lines while I began my investigation of what, judging from the source material he was reciting, could only have been caused by something akin to Brutus’s betrayal.
The obvious first clue was his No.4 smoother, so I pried it out of his paws, dried the tears he had dribbled all over it, and observed a series of deep, uneven scratches on its sole, more or less in line with its the long direction. Whereupon, I twirled my white mustaches like an older, more handsome Hercule Poroit, and asked myself the following questions:
Question 1: What could have possibly created these scratches? Had iron pixies been using Woody’s beautiful plane to shave bricks?
A quick investigation of the workshop revealed several suspect bricks, but no signs of iron pixies at play. I remembered seeing Woody use these same bricks to brace the legs of his combination router table and barbecue betimes (he makes wonderful barbecued pork ribs, marinated in a whiskey sauce, BTW). I concluded it unlikely that either Woody or pesky pixies would have used this valuable plane to shave bricks at the unthinkable risk of disturbing a delicate combination tool (router table/barbecue) of such importance.
As I considered the wood Woody had been working, another question popped out of my brain like an egg from a hen:
Question 2: Is there anything that grows naturally inside a tree that is harder than a handplane’s sole and large enough to have caused such deep scratches? And if they do exist, could these particles have been maliciously concealed inside the growing tree by compadres of the shambling horde of 6-armed, green-skinned, Fanta-guzzling aliens that follow me everywhere? BTW, If you have seen these aliens, please send photos!
I next removed the plane’s blade, which was made of a tough and difficult to sharpen metal called A2, developed for making dies and other industrial components, and checked its condition. As suspected, the edge was not just deadly dull, but exhibited dents perfectly in-line with the deepest scratches in the plane’s sole. Egads! The thlot pickens!
Of course, Gentle Reader is aware that many varieties of wood contain hard silica particles that can wear out tools and quickly dull cutters, but they are seldom large enough to create deep scratches of the kind I saw on Woody’s plane’s sole. Hmmm.
Question 3: If these hideously-hard particles did not grow inside the tree, and were not concealed inside the tree by aliens, exactly how did the infernal particles that made these scratches come into contact with Woody’s pretty plane?
To make a closer visual inspection possible, I recovered my magnifying glass and deerstalker hat from my truck parked in Woody’s beer can-cluttered driveway.
Could the damage have been caused by nails, screws or staples left in the wood? Perhaps, but the appearance of the damage to the blade would have been different.
Pixie toenail clippings? Happens more often than we realize.
A tiny fragment from a divorce lawyer’s heart? Certainly any piece of such an organ would be harder than stellite, but being a fragment of a microscopic organ, such particles are harder to find than an honest politician in Shat Francisco.
“No,” I confidently declared; The culprit was harder than all these substances, more insidious than even Murphy’s pointy purple pecker, a substance all around us, one we often ignore. Rejoice Woody, for the mystery is solved!
Dust & Grit
Logging Redwoods in Humbolt County California, 1905
Politics and journalism aside, we live in a dusty, dirty world, and although the steel in your tool blades is very hard, ordinary dust and dirt contain plenty of particles much harder. I guaran-frikin-tee you that collision with even a small particle of mineral grit embedded in the surface of a piece of wood can and will damage a blade’s cutting edge.
You may believe the damage is minimal and of little concern, but every time your blade becomes dull, you must resharpen it. Every sharpening session costs you time pushing the blade around on stones, time not spent cutting wood. And sharpening turns expensive blades and stones into mud. This is time and money lost forever.
And the abrasive action of dirt and grit embedded in wood is not hard on just chisel blades, plane blades and the soles of steel planes, but is even harder on sawteeth and wooden planes.
And the damage is not limited to just your handtools either. Take a closer look at the steel tables of your stationary equipment such as your jointer or tablesaw. Unless they are new, you will find scratches. Has that purple pervert Murphy been smokin dope and humpin sumpin on your jointer’s bed when you weren’t lookin?
Nay, Gentle Reader, supernatural causes aside, and unless you have been dismembering the bodies of divorce lawyers in your workshop, these scratches are clear evidence that the wood you’ve been working is neither as clean as it looks, nor as clean as it should be. You’ve gotta do something about that.
Ruba Dub Dub
So what can you do about damaging dust and grit? Strange as it may seem, the simplest and surest way to get rid of dirt and grit is to follow your mother’s instructions about cleaning the bathtub: Simply wash it with soap, water and a wire brush, followed by a rinse.
Bet you never thought of washing wood before have you?
The idea is to wet, scrub with a wire brush, and quickly rinse the dirt and grit off the wood, not to make the wood soaking wet, so none of that “rinse and repeat” nonsense, and don’t get carried away with the water hose. A bit of dishwashing soap or washing soda mixed in the water bucket will help lift out dirt and grit.
Don’t forget to pat each board down immediately afterwards with clean rags to remove surface water. Then separate each board, rest it on stickers on-edge out of direct sunlight, and allow time and circulating air to dry it.
Remember to wet both sides of each board to minimize warping. And don’t soak a lot of water into the ends.
Disclaimer: Rubba-dub-dub is not well suited for thin material or laminated wood products that might easily warp, or delaminate, or if you are in a hurry, or if you lack adequate space to properly air-dry the wood.
Whether you wash the wood with water or not, be sure to do at least the following two steps on every board before you process it with your valuable tools.
Scrub Scrub Scrub
If you can’t wash the boards, use a steel wire brush to dry-scrub all the board’s faces both with and across the grain. Yes, I know it makes the surface rougher. Tough pixie toenails. Scrubbing with a stiff steel brush is extremely effective at removing dust, dirt, embedded particles of grit, and even small stones from long grain. Give it a try and you will both see and smell the dirt and particles expelled. Pretty nasty stuff sometimes.
Saw Saw Saw
Second, and this is supremely important, before planing a board either by hand or using powertools, saw 2~3mm off both ends. This is why you have that circular saw with the carbide-tipped blade. If you can’t do that, at least use a steel block plane, drawknife, or other tool to chamfer all eight corners of the board’s ends to remove both surface dirt and the worst of the embedded grit thereby saving your planes, planer and/or jointer blades from scratches.
This step is critical because grit and even small stones frequently become so deeply embedded in endgrain that even a steel brush can’t dig them out. But sure as God made little green apples, Murphy will place them directly in the path of your plane blade.
If you do these things, I promise your tools will thank you over many years with abundant chips, shiny shavings and cheerful little songs.
Well, until either Woody sobers up or we meet again, I have the honor to remain,
YMHOS
Yosemite Valley California, 1865
If you have questions or would like to learn more about our tools, please click the “Pricelist” link here or at the top of the page and use the “Contact Us” form located immediately below.
Please share your insights and comments with all Gentle Readers using the form located further below labeled “Leave a Reply.” We aren’t evil Google, fascist facebook, thuggish Twitter, nor a US Senator’s Communist Chinese girlfriend and so won’t sell, share, or profitably “misplace” your information. May Murphy poke me with his pointy purple pecker if I lie (say that ten times fast!) (ツ).
She walks in beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that’s best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes…
Lord Byron
Gary, a truly Beloved Customer, has produced a well-designed and beautifully-executed chest of drawers to be the base of a future larger tool cabinet. The joinery is amazing, and his solutions to the challenges tool cabinets and chests all face are excellent. He was kind enough to put together this guest post for the edification of our Gentle Readers. We hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
YMHOS
Introduction
I’ve been avidly following Stan’s series of posts about tool storage because I’m deep into making my own tool cabinet. After some back and forth with Stan to get his input on some design and hardware options, he asked if I would write a guest post to describe my efforts. I now have completed the chest of drawers, which will be the base for a future upper cabinet. In this post I’ll describe my design decisions and the chest’s unusual construction.
If anyone would like more details, I have a lengthy thread describing the build in even more detail at the Woodworking forum at OWWM.org. (Free registration is required. It is a wonderful site if you are interested in restoring and using vintage woodworking machinery).
Design Criteria: Functionality
Overall Dimensions
I wanted my tool cabinet to hold the hand tools and other items I use frequently at the bench. It had to fit behind my workbench and in front of a dust collector bin, restrictions that defined the cabinet’s dimensions, which for the chest discussed in this article are roughly 37 inches tall (including the casters) by 18 inches deep, by 32” wide. The upper cabinet will be about 48 inches tall, 60 inches wide with the doors open, and 12 inches deep.
Mobility
This chest had to be mobile because I occasionally need to empty the dust collector bin behind it and access both some closet storage near it and a hatch to the garage attic above it.
Durability & Tool Protection
It also had to be sturdy, durable, modifiable, and repairable. I made modest efforts to protect against dust. I was not concerned about protecting my tools from humidity swings or security since the cabinet will stay in a secure, conditioned space where the relative humidity is between 40% and 60% year round.
Figure 2: A conceptual sketch of the entire cabinet as it will appear when completed, including the chest of drawers supporting a cabinet with doors, shown where it will reside in my shop, Figure 3: The completed chest of drawers in its native environment.
Research & Planning
Visually, I wanted the chest to appear, in Stan’s words, “Workmanlike…with some subtle decorative details.” I also wanted it to have a Japanese aesthetic without being a reproduction of a Japanese tansu.
After researching different tool cabinet designs that might fit my criteria — Jim Tolpin’s Toolbox Book was particularly helpful — I started sketching a preliminary design. I decided to combine two kinds of storage: a chest of drawers for smaller items below, and a cabinet with doors above for longer and larger tools.
Initially I drew the chest with full-width drawers to hold larger items, but potential sagging became a concern and I didn’t much like their appearance in my planning sketches. I compromised by having one wide drawer on top and two banks of narrower drawers below supported in the center by a stile.
The upper cabinet design is still in progress. The sketch in Figure 2 above shows planes resting on a slanted surface, but I have decided to store them horizontally to maximize space instead.
One goal I had for the chest was to use mostly interlocking mechanical joints rather than conventional glued/screwed case construction. Joining it mechanically was both an intellectual and design challenge as well as an opportunity to learn new joinery skills. My “tutor” in this effort was Chris Hall, who explored and described this kind of construction in his blog The Carpentry Way, and in several self-published monographs and tutorials. Sadly, Chris passed away in April of 2020. While I am not the craftsman he was, I’m pleased to have a made piece that reflects his approach to woodworking.
I quickly realized that the build would be complicated enough that using a CAD program would help me draw and visualize the interlocking joints. I took a few weeks to learn enough Sketchup to ensure I didn’t miss any critical dimensions.
Wood Selection
I chose to build the chest from black cherry (Prunus serotina) because this wood is readily available at a reasonable price in my area, is excellent for joinery, and ages nicely.
For the interior I used quarter-sawn sycamore (Platanus occidentalis) because it is relatively hard and stable—and I had recently purchased 100 board feet of it for almost nothing.
I used quarter-sawn Oregon white oak (Quercus garryana) for the drawer sides because it is hard, abrasion resistant, and I can get it locally from a friend whose family runs a sustainable forest and sawmill.
Mobile Base & Joinery
Casters
I considered wheels made from plain iron and with rubber, neoprene, or urethane treads, but selected cast iron, industrial-quality casters for their durability and for the look of iron. I also wanted them to swivel.
I spec’d them to accommodate at least twice the combined weight of the lower chest and upper cabinet when fully loaded.
I decided to use vintage hardware, and I eventually found a set of used Bassick brand cast iron swivel casters with hardened steel carriages, needle roller bearings, and grease fittings. Bassick has been making industrial casters since the late 1800’s. These are probably from the early to mid-1900’s but are still in good shape. I could not find their load rating but similar modern casters have load ratings several times the ultimate weight of the cabinet. They should last a long time. I cleaned them up and attached them with stainless steel screws.
Figure 4: Vintage Bassick model 361 casters
These old casters are noisy rolling over my concrete shop floor, but it’s a noise I like.
Mobile Base Joinery
I began the construction process with the mobile base. Its key feature is the three-way corner joint shown below. Chris Hall called it a sanpō-zashi Tsugi no Henka (三方差し継手の変化). I followed his step-by-step construction tutorial.
Figure 5: Sketchup drawing of the mobile base corner joint
This joint has a mitered corner to hide end grain, an internal sliding dovetail, a half dovetail, a stub tenon, and two locking keys. The larger through mortise is to receive a tenon in the corner post of the chest of drawers that also passes through the chest sill.
The grooves in the upper surface of the mobile base seen in Figures 5 and 8 are to receive loose splines to connect the base to the chest of drawers, and to reduce stresses on the tenons when moving the assembly around the shop.
Figure 5: The two halves of the three way corner joint
The two keys shown in Figure 8 lock the joint together strongly without glue. The keys cannot work themselves out because they are restrained from above by the corner posts of the the chest of drawers.
Figure 7: The mobile base corner joint partly assembledFigure 8: The corner joint with keys inserted but not yet cut flush
The Chest’s Frame
The sill and header are constructed with the same joinery as the mobile base but with slightly different dimensions and other small differences. The sill has grooves cut to accept two plywood dust panels. The header is grooved to accept a solid wood top panel.
Figure 9: Corner post connection to sill showing through tenon with flanking stub tenons.
Center posts help support the drawers. The top drawer is full width. I mortised the posts and stiles to receive tenons on the drawer rails and drawer frames.
Figure 10: Mobile base, sill, posts, and header.
Drawer Frames and Guides
Figure 11: Quarter-sawn sycamore for rails and drawer guides
The drawer frame sides and guides are quarter-sawn sycamore. Gorgeous, but since these are internal parts, no one will ever see the ray fleck figure unless they remove the drawers and peer inside the chest. I like that.
The drawer frames that support the drawers have cherry front and back rails and sycamore sides. Front rails for the drawer frames are tenoned into the posts with mitered spear points on the show surface. The spear point is partly structural in that it has a larger bearing surface to resist racking better than a typical plain shoulder. It is also a subtle decorative detail that I like a lot. It was challenging to get them all to fit. I was more or less successful but not perfect. I included dust panels of ¼ inch birch plywood in the drawer frames to help limit dust in the drawers. This picture is of a test fit before assembly. The blue tape covers drawer stops that are detailed below.
Fig 12: Chest frame and drawer frames assembly test fit
I tenoned the side rails of the drawer frames into the front rails and also tongue and grooved the side rails into the side guides for extra support for the drawers. Further, the tenons on the front rails also intersect and pass through the tenons on the side guides, locking the side guides in place. The post and side guide “ladder” is extremely rigid to resist racking front to back.
This complicated joinery is difficult to describe and photograph. Here is a Sketchup view of what the drawer rail and side guides to post connection looks like inside the post. A similar joinery locks the drawer rails and drawer guides at the center posts.
Figure 13: Sketchup X-ray view of rail and side guide to post joineryFigure 14: Joinery of back drawer frame to center drawer guide and back postFigure 15: Assembled view of joinery of back drawer frame to center drawer guide and back post.
Drawer Stops
I wanted both cushioned pull-out stops and cushioned push-in stops to prevent accidentally dumping a drawer full of heavy and sharp tools onto the floor or my feet. I also wanted the stops to be replaceable and adjustable for wear over the years.
For the pull-out stops I found a compact design by Australian woodworker Neil Erasmus that I like. These fit into the underside of the front rail and fall into place by gravity when the drawer is pushed in. When you pull the drawer out, the inside of the drawer back hits the leather padded face of the stop. They lift out of the way with a finger if you want to remove the drawer.
I secured these in-place with hide glue so that they can be replaced if they break after a few decades of banging. The leather cushion is from an old belt of mine that has mysteriously shrunk in length over the years..
Figure 16: Pull-out stop.
Figure 17: The pull-out stop mortised into a rail
The back stops are my own design. They are dovetailed into the lower surface of the back drawer frame rail. They can be adjusted by adding or removing slivers from the back of the stop, and are easily replaceable.
I will have to use them for a while to determine if these are a good idea or not. A friend suggested that stops that hit the end grain of the sides would be better than one that hits the center of the more flexible back. I suspect he is right but this is what I have for now and I can re-do the back stop later if I need to.
Figure 18: Back stop
Side Panels
The chest’s side panels are book matched, hammer veneered cherry on birch plywood cores, friction fit into grooves on the posts to further help resist racking front to back. I added the small, spear pointed rail there to carry the theme seen on the front drawer rails around to the sides and also help resist racking.
Figure 19: Side panels
The Frame & Panel Back
The back of the chest is frame & panel construction with mitered and through-tenoned corners. The panels are cherry veneer, hammer-veneered with hide glue onto birch plywood cores.
I friction fit the panels into the frames, and friction fit the back into rabbets in the posts to help resist racking from side to side. These veneered panels give the chest a finished look from the back as well as the other three sides.
The weight of the back helps counterbalances the weight of an open drawer.
The eight odd white bits seen in Figure 20 are loose, removable sycamore tenons that pass through mortises in the back frame and down into mortises in the sill, laterally into the posts, and up into the header, attaching the back. One might use screws to accomplish the same thing, but I liked this idea, again from Chris Hall, who adopted it from a Chinese Ming Dynasty cabinet.
Figure 20: View of Frame & Panel back showing 8 sycamore wood tenons that secure the back panel.
Header
The header frame is grooved to accept a solid wood panel fitted tightly at the front and sides to eliminate any gaps that would collect dust and grit. To accommodate seasonal movement I glued the panel’s front edge into the groove and left a gap at the back, which will be covered by the upper cabinet, so the panel can float.
Figure 21: Header with solid wood panel inset in-place
The odd looking projections seen in Figure 21 are twin sliding dovetail keys that will anchor the future upper cabinet. There will be mating mortises on the underside of the top cabinet. The cabinet will drop onto the keys and slide forward, locking the two pieces together. The upper cabinet will be approximately 12 inches deep, leaving 6 inches of the chest top free.
Drawers
I put extra work into the drawers since they will actually hold the tools. The rest of the chest is just there to keep the drawers off the floor.
I decided early to avoid metal drawer slides because I find side-mounted slides ugly and believe under-mounted slides sacrifice too much drawer depth.
Figure 22: A drawer
Drawers fronts are attached with half-blind dovetails, and backs with through- dovetail joints. The cherry drawer fronts are cut from a single clear and straight grained 12/4 board that I resawed to match figure and color vertically and horizontally.
For the sides I resawed 4/4 oak stock and hand planed it to ⅜” thick. I chose relatively thin sides both to save material and weight and because I like the look of thinner sides. But they don’t leave much room for a typical ¼” groove for the drawer bottom. To correct for that thinness, I glued on drawer slips of quarter sawn sycamore. Oak would have worked, too.
Drawer slips are, from what I have read, probably a French invention, adopted and most widely used by the British in the 1700’s and 1800’s for finer work but not commonly used in America. Besides providing more “meat” for supporting a groove for the bottom, the slip adds more bearing surface for the drawer. Distributing the drawer weight helps slow the drawer sides from wearing grooves in the runners.
I made the drawer bottoms of sycamore. I slotted the back end of the bottom and screwed to the drawer back to allow seasonal movement.
I’ve also since covered each bottom with a thin sheet of rubberized cork to protect the bottoms from sharp tools and to protect sharp tools from the bottoms.
Figure 23: A drawer slip
The design of the half-blind dovetail joints was for my own amusement. I wanted a Japanese look for the drawers if possible. A friend sent me a poster of Japanese dovetail styles for inspiration, shown below.
Figure 24: Japanese dovetail poster
I chose the design in the middle at the top with the split pins. They remind me somewhat of Torii gates.
Figure 25: Torii Gate in the sea at Itsukushima Shrine near Hiroshima
Figure 26: Half-lapped dovetails with split pins
This is one of those “subtle decorative details” that is also structurally sound. It actually adds some extra glue surface compared with a standard dovetail, without looking like I was trying too hard just to be different. It also is not visible until the drawer is opened, another hidden feature of the chest that I like.
Drawer Pulls
The only hardware parts on the chest beside the casters are the drawer pulls. I wanted these to be both durable and aesthetically compatible with the design.
There are thousands of commercial drawer pull designs and an infinite number if you make your own. To narrow the field, I started by thinking of Japanese tansu hardware. Chris Hall’s website came through with a compendium of styles.
Thinking these had possibilities I started looking for vendors. In the USA, I found three: Hida Tool, which sells iron pulls hand forged in Japan. Eastern Classics, which sells antique iron pulls I think are recycled from defunct tansu. I bought a sample from both suppliers. And Whitechapel, who is superb for European hardware and also had a few tansu pulls but not a large selection of styles and sizes.
Stan recommended I consider pulls made by Nishikawa-Shouten in Japan, which has two large catalogs of traditional and modern tansu hardware. They offer dozens of styles, a few in iron, most in brass, and some in zinc pot metal, with various finishes. It is delightful to look through the catalogs to see what is there. But they are a manufacturer and wholesaler, and their catalog text is in Japanese. After a bit of searching for a retailer I found Morikuni Cabinet Hardware, a Japanese retailer that sells retail — in English — to the US market. Their web store has only a tiny portion of the Nishikawa-Shouten items but they can get others if you ask.
I settled on a simple traditional Japanese warabi style pull, and also bought samples in iron from Hida Tool and Eastern Classics.
And this more refined contemporary version from Hida Tool, which I liked much better.
Figure 28: Hida Tool’s modern hand forged warabi-style pull
But I needed 14 of them, and neither was available in that quantity. Also, both the Hida Tools and Eastern Classic’s pulls attach with cotter pins, and after consulting with Stan I agreed that the modern pulls with screw-post attachment available from Nishikawa Shouten would be more secure long-term. They also were available in quantity so I purchased a set.
This hardware came with beige/ivory-colored plastic covers to hide the threaded post and its nut inside of the drawer. I liked the low profile and finished look but neither the color nor that it was plastic. I wanted something more durable in metal with a black finish to match the outside. Stan suggested a mirror screw cap, and I found one in brass and stainless steel. I spray painted the caps with a satin black enamel.
Fig 29: Nishikawa-Shouten’s Warabi-style pull with substituted post caps
Finishing Touches
I hate finishing. The scraping, the sanding, the multiple thin coats, the waiting for drying times is maddening. I’m not going to invest in sprayers, either. Not for me. I especially hate sanding. So I go minimalist. I have settled on a couple of simple to apply finishes that are also readily renewable. For my laziness and impatience I sacrifice hardness and durability, but I’m OK with that.
I hand-planed the exterior surfaces of the chest, then finished it with two coats of 1 pound cut shellac to seal the surface and reduce blotching and then lightly sanded to remove nubs. Then I applied three coats of Waterlox satin, which is an old school tung oil/linseed oil/resin that you wipe on and wipe off. It dries in two or three hours and fully cures in a few days. Refreshing coats can be applied at any time.
I also hand-planed the drawer frames and guides, lightly sanded them 400 grit, and then just finished them with wax. Before assembly I pre-finished he interior surfaces of the drawers with two coats of shellac and wax. After assembly, I shellacked the outside surfaces. The outside bearing surfaces I then sanded lightly to 400 grit and waxed for smooth running. The drawer fronts also got two coats of Waterlox to match the rest of the outside of the chest.
Final Comments
Fig 30: Completed chest with drawers openFig 31: Drawer with rubberized cork mat and two planes
The chest took me about 2 months to design and about 1000 hours (guessing) for construction. Now I have a proper place to put my tools for the work ahead.
Gary
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