Category: Handplanes

Deneb Puchalski of Lie-Nielsen Toolworks uses a toothing iron to deal with materials that are difficult to plane. He first tooths the surface and then removes the toothing with a fine-set plane, usually a low-angle jack plane.

A few years ago he asked me if there was anything in the literature that supported this method. And this entry is a long-overdue reply.

From “The Panorama of Science and Art” (Caxton Press) by James Smith, 1825.

Though the double iron is an excellent invention, and the use of it is, in fact, the best general remedy known against the curling or cross-grained stuff of ordinary quality; yet, without some other assistance, the planing of many of the finest specimens of mahogany, and many other woods, among which fustic may be particularly mentioned, would be to the last degree a difficult and perplexing operation to the workman.

Hence a plane, the stock of which is usually made of the shape and size of the smoothing-plane, is fitted up so as to act by scratching or scraping. The blade, or iron, on the steel side of it, is covered with rakes or small grooves close to each other, and all of them in the direction of its length: when therefore it is ground, and the basil formed, its edge presents a series of teeth like those of a fine saw; the bed of the stock intended to receive it is inclined only about six degrees, and consequently when the iron is fixed it is almost perpendicular. On account of these teeth in the iron, the plane obtains the name of the tooth-plane.

With this kind of a plane, however hard the stuff may be, or however cross and twisted its grain, the surface may be made every-where alike, and will not be rougher than if it had been rubbed with a piece of new fish-skin. This roughness may be effectually removed with the scraper, which is a thin plate of steel, like part of a common case-knife, the back of it being let into a piece of wood, as a handle.

So there you go. Thanks to Jeff Burks for turning me onto the Panorama book several years ago. Lots of good stuff in there on joinery that isn’t in Peter Nicholson’s book.

— Christopher Schwarz

Planes with movable fences, such as plows and rabbets, have two major defects.

1. In wooden-bodied planes, the fence can be tricky to adjust parallel to the tool’s skate or sidewall. An out-of-square fence can create some horrific results on your wood.

2. In metal planes, it’s difficult to secure the fence so it doesn’t slip. Even if you apply all your strength to the thumbscrews or collets, the fence slips too easily for my taste.

Part of this problem is caused by the tool, and part is caused by the user. When plowing deep grooves, it’s all too easy to tip the tool slightly at the bottom of the groove. If you tip the plane, the leverage against the fence will make it slip. Almost nothing will stop it.

One solution to these two problems is simple: Don’t use fenced planes. Or use planes with fixed fences only – such as standing rabbet planes.

If you aren’t willing or financially able to go down that route, I’ll offer a different solution that I have encountered in several other shops.

It will make you cringe. But here goes: Tighten the fence on your metal planes with pliers. Yes, this will mung the collets or thumbscrews, but it works.

Case in point: Last week I forgot to tell students in my class in North Carolina to tighten the fence with pliers. About half of them had the fence slip. This week in Washington state, I remembered to mention the pliers. And none of the fences slipped.

Sadly, I also use pliers on the depth stop to prevent it from slipping.

I apologize in advance to anyone who puts the pliers to their plane. Your tool will be uglier for it. But your work will be prettier.

— Christopher Schwarz

One of my students in Germany is a fan of planes by Philip Marcou, the New Zealand toolmaker. After attracting a lot of attention in the bowsaw class with his Marcou smoother, Martin Gerhards of Munich offered to bring in the Marcou planes he owns.

I’ve only gotten to use one of Marcou’s planes extensively, which I borrowed for a 2007 review of it for The Fine Tool Journal (the review also appears in my book “Handplane Essentials”). So it was interesting to see a group of planes from the maker that have been built since them.

I didn’t get to use the planes as much as I wanted to – I wa pretty tied up with teaching the classes. But during a couple slow moments I was able to inspect and use some of the planes – and take some photographs.

The plane I got to use the most was the M12 miter plane, a massive (nearly 10-pound) beast that I used on the shooting boards of Dictum GmbH. It might just be the heaviest plane I’ve ever used, but it didn’t feel that way on the shooting board, where it plowed through the end grain of all the European hardwoods I got my hands on in the shop Dictum.

All of the Marcou planes are characterized by their mass, which is a notch above the typical plane forms and a dividing line between many hand-tool woodworkers (see the specs of Marcou’s planes here). Some woodworkers hate heavy planes; other seek them out. I can work either way, but I can tell you that when I shoot with a plane, I look for mass. Mass helps a lot.

So the M12 miter plane was a total joy for me to use. Every part of the plane was made perfectly, from the pinned dovetails in the sole to the precise blade adjuster. The plane can be adjusted for right- or left-handed users. You can even move its massive knob to a position above the toe if you want to use the plane more like a smoothing plane.

The only ding I can give to the plane is the raised area above the heel of the tool – above the blade adjuster. This chamfered brass area prohibits you from capturing the miter plane in a track, like you can with a Stanley No. 9, No. 51, a traditional English miter plane or one of its modern equivalents. This is a small complaint, as the tool is easy to wield without a track once you get the feel for it.

The second Marcou plane I got to use was the J20, a jack plane that Gerhards had set up more like a try plane. Once again, it is a heavy tank of a plane that could charge through nots and dense grain with little or no vibration.

The nicest detail of the plane is the adjustable mouth. It’s a small plate in front of the iron that is easily movable – not just forward and back but even skewed. This feature makes it super easy to move close and mimic the position of the iron.

You can see more photos of the J20 on Marcou’s site here.

The third plane I spent any time with was a custom chamfer plane that Gerhards commissioned. It’s an adaptation of a Japanese wooden chamfer plane that has a movable fence and – like the original – a body that shifts laterally so you can expose a fresh part of the iron.

Marcou greatly improved the fence-adjustment mechanism, which slides on bars and locks with a single thumbscrew. The fence on the original adjusts with two wing-nuts that lock against spin-wheels. The original is clumsy to adjust; Marcou’s is simple.

The blade adjusts to a perfect cutting position by dropping into small grooves in the fence pieces. All-in-all, it’s a pretty amazing adaptation of a traditional tool.

Also, since my 2007 review, Marcou has vastly expanded his web site. You can check out all the details, including lots of photos, by visiting his site here.

— Christopher Schwarz