STEP 25: Round the Curled Leaf Tip. Using a #3, 14mm, round the curled lobe at the tip of the leaf and lower the outer edge of the leaf where the multiple serrations are located.
STEP 26: Carve the Underside of the Leaf. Refer to the template to draw the details on the curled leaf tip. With a #7, 6mm, a #7, 10mm and a #7, 14mm, hollow the underside of the leaf and leave a sharp, high edge down the center of the lobe. The small leaflet should also be lowered at this time.
STEP 27: Carve the Crescent Moon on the Curled Leaf Tip. Using a #7, 6mm, make a vertical cut to define the outside edge of the curled lobe. Make a second cut at 45° to notch this section out. Round this small serration slightly with the same gouge.
STEP 28: Make Serration Notch Cuts. With a #5, 8mm, make notch cuts along the serrations edges in the outer edge of this lobe and the small leaflet.
STEP 29: Carve the Secondary Veins. Draw the secondary veins and use a #11, 1mm veiner to carve them.
STEP 30: Carve the Notch Cuts on the Pipe. With a #7, 6mm, carve three wrinkle notch cuts along the pipe. Make a vertical cut on the top edge of the wrinkle and an angled cut on the lower edge meeting at a sharp inside corner. These should reduce in size as they go down the pipe.
STEP 31: Undercut the Edges. With various curved gouges that fit the edge of the leaf, make undercuts along the entire edge to remove any of the original saw cuts.
Now that you have mastered this traditional leaf, take this design, carve another leaf in reverse and decorate the top of a mirror frame, or a headboard. Or … stay tuned for the next chapter where you can add a curled leaf onto this design. Feel free to explore new designs and add more “twisting leaf tips” curling at the ends of the lobes. Make it come alive with twists and curves!
Throw the Bench Down the Well It’s not unusual to find Roman artifacts stashed in wells. Archaeologists have recovered thousands of tools, domestic goods, nails and even coins from the bottoms of Roman wells. The reason: Stashing valuable goods in wells was a typical Roman reaction to the threat of an overwhelming attack. If the Romans threw their precious bits down wells before retreating, there’s a chance they could recover their valuables later. And if they weren’t able to recover their items, there’s a chance their attackers wouldn’t find them, either.
But before we start discussing the fall of Saalburg, let’s look at how it started.
The Saalburg fort was founded about 85 C.E. as two earthen enclosures to protect a mountain pass. This was later improved to a wood and earth fort. In the second century C.E., Saalburg was expanded to become an impressive stone fort that housed a “cohort,” a unit of about 500-600 Romans. The fort served as one of the important links in the “limes” (pronounced “lee-mez” and not like the citrus), which was the frontier between the Roman Empire and the hostile Germanic tribes to the north.
About 260 C.E., the Roman limes fell. All areas east of the Rhine River were lost to the Germanic tribes of the north. Saalburg was abandoned during this time, apparently without a fight. Yet the fact that the fort’s wells were filled with tools and other important commercial objects suggests that its occupants felt threatened.
After the fort was abandoned, it was used as a quarry. And its history and very existence faded away until the late 19th century. After decades of research into the Saalburg fort by archaeologists, Kaiser Wilhelm II ordered in 1897 for the fort to be reconstructed. It is now an open-air museum and research center for archaeologists who study the limes and Roman technology.
We Go Below Today, below the museum is a climate-controlled room with thousands of Roman objects. That’s where museum educator Rüdiger Schwarz took us one summer day in June. Its entrance is below grade, like a cellar door. Then you traipse down a few steps to a masonry-lined room that looks like the mechanical area of a school or office building. There’s equipment to control humidity. Lots of locked doors. Any janitor would feel at home.
Rüdiger unlocks a couple of doors and the scenery changes. It’s still a climate-controlled basement, but the hallways are lined with wooden shelves that go from floor to ceiling. And they are filled with bricks, pottery and woodwork. All of it neatly labeled. Though we’re walking at a normal pace, I stumble when my eye latches onto a label or an interesting ceramic. My feet don’t know what to do – move or stop.
We make a left turn; as do the shelves. To my left are banks of wide and shallow drawers filled with hundreds of artifacts. The only sound is a buzz from the lights above as they flicker on and warm up. I don’t suffer vertigo, but the floor seems to sweep upward as we pass into a cluster of wooden objects – wheels, stools and pieces of bridges that are bound in iron. Every wooden object is blackened from its time in a well that had no oxygen but lots and lots of iron objects.
And then there it is – the workbench standing on four legs like a lame dog. None of its legs are in the same plane, likely the result of it being waterlogged for hundreds of years and then being dried out in 1901. At some point, the benchtop split in its middle across its width, but it has been mended and looks sturdy and ready for straddling. There’s a piece removed from the back end where archaeologists attempted to date the bench – the offcut is also handy so you can see the annular rings of the tree and the way the iron has leached its way deep into the fibers of the workbench. It is black through and through.
I want to sit down, but the only seats available are 1,800-year-old stools and benches. And that’s when I realized the bench was between my legs.
“Pick it up.”
For me, the Saalburg workbench is a touchstone and a mystery. As the earliest surviving workbench, it is a link to woodworkers who existed centuries before us. Their tools are remarkably similar to ours. Yet their workbenches are a bit foreign. Many of the benches are knee-high and have workholding schemes that are dirt simple and somewhat alien.
When I’ve shown images of these early benches to other woodworkers, many have ready explanations for what this peg did or that notch was used for. But they don’t really know. The only way to find out – aside from cloning an old Roman woodworker – is to build these benches and build furniture using them. And even then, it’s difficult to be certain you are on the right path.
After years of dovetailing, I noticed that two of my chisels were seeing almost all the action: the 1/4″-wide and a 3/4″-wide tools. I use the narrow one for removing waste between the tails and the larger one for removing waste between pins.
If you are like Thomas and have limited funds for high-quality tools, these two chisels would be my first purchases.
But what about the so-called dedicated dovetail chisels you see in catalogs? As a beginning dovetailer, I had a crappy set of plastic-handled chisels, a newspaperman’s salary and a copy of the Japan Woodworker catalog. All three things conspired to make me miserable.
I wanted to cut dovetails with bold angles, but my crappy chisels had side bevels that were as big as Cheddar Mountain at Bonanza. So every time I went to clean out the waste between my tails, the side bevels would wrench a bite out of my tails.
I wanted to buy a sweet dovetail chisel from Japan Woodworker that didn’t have side bevels. That would allow me to sneak into the corners with ease. But I had a newspaperman’s salary, which made me want to sell drugs to the local Junior Leaguers.
Luckily, I met some clever people in my travels. Dovetailing demon Rob Cosman showed me his hot-rodded chisel on which he ground the side bevels down to nothing (and he shaped the chisel with a fishtail sweep). Woodworker Lonnie Bird showed me how he lopped the end off a plastic-handled chisel and reshaped it so that it was easy to strike.
And what did I bring to the equation? I figured out chisel geometry (like most woodworkers eventually do), which allowed me to make the tool take a beating like a rented mule.
Here’s What You Do So let’s say you have a nice four-figure salary and can spring for one of the nice $1 chisels at the flea market. Here’s how you can make it into a sweet worker in about 30 minutes.
Step one: File the side bevels. The side flats below the side bevels on cheap chisels are too big for dovetail work. You need to file the bevels so that there is absolutely zero flat area on the long sides of your chisel’s blade. When you are done, the chisel’s blade should look like a decapitated pyramid in cross-section.
You can do this with a grinder, a stationery belt sander or a disk sander. Or you can take the cheap (and safer) route and use a Multicut file. This style of file, which is generally used for shaping metal, can dress the side bevels of a typical chisel in about 10 minutes.
Secure the chisel in a vise and work the side bevels with the file. Hold the file with two hands: one on the tang and one at the tip. Cut only on the push stroke. And stroke the file so your hand is never (ever) right over the cutting edge of the chisel. One slip and you are (blood-soaked) toast.
After filing the side bevels so they extend to the flat face of the chisel, clean up your work with light strokes of the Multicut file. Then clean up your work (if you like) with a fine file or sandpaper.
Step two: Adjust the handle. If the striking end of the handle is rounded and plastic, it is likely too top-heavy to wield comfortably. The chisel should feel like a pencil, and the rounded end is probably difficult to strike without your mallet glancing off the end oddly.
Take a hacksaw and cut off the top 3/4″ of the handle. Try the balance. Still feel top-heavy? Lop off a bit more. Make sure you leave enough handle so you can grasp the handle in your hand to strike it without striking yourself.
Once you get the balance right, file the top of the handle flat and dress the sharp corners to remove any odd burrs.
Step three: Sharpen the edge correctly. Grind the primary bevel of the tool at 25°. Then grind a 35° secondary bevel on the tip. It will be a tiny secondary bevel, which is a good thing. The advantage of this steep bevel is that your tool will be durable through a lot of chopping. A steeper honing angle increases edge life. And the steep angle isn’t a detriment to chopping out waste – it scarcely feels different than a 25° chisel.
This is an excerpt from “Woodworking in Estonia” by Ants Viires; translated by Mart Aru.
Unsegmented felloes in Estonia and Latviawere always bent from ash wood. In Russia too, ash was occasionally used, although oak and elm were preferred. The Assikvere wheelright used ash also for the hub and the spokes.
Here we will describe the process of unsegmented felloes as it was practiced until recently in Assikvere. Young ash trees had to be used for bending, the thinner ones yielding four boards and the thicker up to 12 boards. In order to make sure the suitability of a tree for felly making, a notch was cut into the trunk with an axe. If the piece of wood came out whole, the tree was no good for wheel making. When cutting wood for the front wheel, the length of the trunk had to be 8-1/2′ (2.5 m) and for the rear wheel 10-1/2′ (3.1 m). The boards were cut with an axe and wedge and then trimmed and smoothed. The width of the board before bending was about 2-1/4″ inches and it was 1-3/4″ – 2″ thick (5.7 cm x 4.4-5 cm).
The green boards thus chosen were steamed or heated for about two hours. Bending on the wheel bench was done while the boards were still hot. A large wooden circular mold was used for the front wheels and a somewhat smaller one for the rear wheels. This circular block of wood was attached to a cross-like base (Figs. 175, 176) to which the end of the board was secured beforestarting. Bending was carried out by three persons (Fig. 177); they were described humorously, according to their functions as the “pushing boy, wedging boy and pulling boy.” The pushing instrument, or the bow, is a pole between 6-1/2′-9- 1/2′ (2-3 m), where it is mounted on a metal pushing pin. The latter is held in position by a strong wedge. In working the bow (or the pole), the pushing boy forces the board round the bending block with the aid of the wedge. The operation has to be performed evenly, without moving thepole up or down. The wedging boy moves the wedge as the board is bent, and inserts it into the appropriate hole in the cross-like base of the bending block. Sometimes an additional wedge is driven in for firmness. The pulling boy goes infront and guides the board, making sure of the board’s direction round the block. When the circle is completed, the pulling boy and the wedging boy join the ends with two pieces of birch. An additional board is now used to join the ends of the bent felly from the inside, it having been previously steamed or heated together with the board for the felly proper. It is a job of the wedging boy to hold the ends tightly while the pulling boy attaches the inside joining board. Only then may the pushing boy release the pressure. During the bending the ash board may often “crack with the inner ring,” i.e. , along the inside of the annual circle. If the crack is thin and the wood remains sufficiently thick it is still fit for use.
Before proceeding with processing the curved unsegmented felly (Fig. 178), it has to dry in a room for at least one week. After it has dried the ends are sawn off, so that a space of about 1/2″ (1.2 cm) is left between them. They are later pulled together by the smith with an iron band.
The majority of woodworking operations are fairly obvious and, given practice, present no special difficulties. For example, to plane an edge straight, work a through rebate or groove, or use a moulding plane calls for little beyond care and practice. But what happens when the edge, the rebate, or the groove is stopped at one or both ends, or when the edge to be moulded is curved? Or how is a thin panel which has warped to be planed? These processes are seldom dealt with in text-books, but they are much more difficult to deal with, and in that sense are more important. We hope in this short series to show some of the ways in which these tricky jobs can be done. We begin with the case of a circular or elliptical table top around which a moulding has to be worked. There is nothing specially difficult about it, but clearly the ordinary method of using a moulding plane as for a straight edge is impossible
Whatever the shape of the top, it must first be cut out and trued up. In the case of a table having flaps the parts would be hinged first and the shape marked afterwards. They should then be separated whilst being sawn and trued up. Once again they should be put together to enable any unevenness of the joints to be corrected, and the line of the moulding marked out with the gauge.
Marking. The procedure varies to an extent with the moulding. In the example shown in Fig. 1 it takes the form of a bold torus, and a line marking the inner quirk of this must be put in with the cutting gauge. If the top is circular the line can be put in sweetly by fixing two slips of wood across the fence of the gauge as shown in Fig. 2. A touch of glue and two fine pins each will hold them. Some workers fix them permanently to the back of the fence and reverse the latter as required. Note how the slips bear against the edge. This cannot be done when the curve is not circular or when it is serpentine because the cutter would mark at a varying distance from the edge. Fig. 3 makes this clear, and shows how the cutter would reach in farther on the acute part of the curve.
The only way on an edge of this kind is to use the normal cutting gauge and keep it up to the edge as far as possible. It is inevitable that it will tend to run off in parts, but this will not matter because it will only cut into a part to be cut away later. The important point is to cut through the grain so that the latter does not tear up when the moulding is being worked. The crossgrain is specially important.
Use of Fillister Plane. The first part of the waste to be removed is the rebate shown black in Fig. 4. The ideal tool to use is the fillister plane. Set the fence so that it cuts just short of the gauge line, and the stop so that it ceases to cut when nearly down to the depth of the quirk. It is impossible to use the tool with the same accuracy as when working against a straight edge, but by giving the tool a turning movement as it is pushed forward it is possible to follow the line with reasonable accuracy (see Fig. 5). One word of warning when moulding the parts of a flap table. Do not carry the plane right through to the far edge straightway. It will only result in a splintered corner. Instead chisel off the end as in Fig. 6. There is then no difficulty about taking the plane right through except when nearly down, when special care is needed. It is often better to cut in from the other direction with the shoulder or bullnose plane.
If the fillister plane is not available you can use the ordinary rebate plane with a strip of wood nailed beneath the sole to act as a fence. This will have no depth stop, and the depth will have to be gauged round beforehand so that you know when to stop.
As much as possible of the waste is now removed with the plane, and, as a guide to making the whole even, two pencil lines are put it as in Fig. 7. The ordinary smoothing plane or block plane can be used to form the chamfer shown by the black portion in Fig. 7. Afterwards the corners can be taken off with either rebate or block plane, whichever is available or the more convenient.
The section now approximates to the required form, and the final shaping is done with the scratch-stock, a special cutter being made as shown in Fig. 8. Note that it leaves the lower edge of the moulding uncut as this has to provide a bearing surface for the notch of the scratch. A piece of old saw blade or an old scraper makes an excellent cutter. It is filed or ground across square, this enabling it to cut in either direction, an important point since the curve makes the grain awkward. The narrow part of the scratch-stock should be fairly long, so that by pressing down there is no tendency for the scratch to drop over at the edge. It is quite hard work using the scratch as considerable energy is needed, but a perfectly accurate moulding can be made.
If preferred the lower corner could be dealt with in the same way, but as the amount of wood to be removed is only small it is usual to work a chamfer all round up to pencil lines as in Fig. 9, and remove the corners.
To finish off two glasspaper rubbers are made. They are shown in Fig. 10. Note that the upper one has its side at an angle so that it fits against the quirk of the moulding. Start off with middle 2 glasspaper, and continue rubbing until all corners are removed. You will have to keep changing the position of the glasspaper so that an unused part comes into use. As the rubbers overlap an unbroken shape is produced. Note that the shape of the rubbers is a trifle flatter than that of the moulding. There is no need for the rubber to be curved along its length. When satisfactory finish off with No. 1 glasspaper.