This story tells how 30,000 rosewood logs were illegally harvested in Madagascar and trafficked on a cargo ship to Singapore. And why they are now sitting in a warehouse, attracting termites.
According to the University of Oxford, “Timber harvested from rosewoods has been the world’s most trafficked wild product since 2005, accounting for 30-40% of the global illegal wildlife trade (more than all animal products put together).”
Dutch tool chest class on October 13, after three days of diligent work.
As I got ready to teach my Dutch tool chest class last weekend, I realized I was incredibly rusty as far as succinct instruction for this project. I checked my calendar, and I’m pretty sure the last time I taught this class in our shop was the weekend of May 6, 2022 – and the last time I taught it at all was at the Florida School of Woodwork in October of 2022. So it’s been two years since last I tried to cram all the instruction into just a few days.
Instead, I was busy expounding and expanding instruction in “Dutch Tool Chests,” which (if the printer deities are smiling upon me) will be in our warehouse in early November (and we’ll offer a pdf free with purchase for the first 30 days it’s on sale, just FYI, since a couple people have asked). In the book, I offer a brain dump on different ways to approach the various building steps, so that readers can choose what works best for their mindset and tool set.
Take rabbets, for example, which are cut to create a raised panel on the fall front and chest lid (and as practice for cutting a square rabbet in a low-risk decorative situation, where it’s OK if it’s slightly out of square!).
When I’m teaching,I get just enough of my work done on a given project only for demonstration purposes. On my fall front from last weekend, for example, I cut a rabbet on only one long-grain edge and one short-grain end, then handed over my tool to students. I’m hoping to get this thing completed before the end of the week…then have it and a few other projects ready to sell at our Nov. 23rd Open Day.
In the book, I mention the dado stack for those who liked a tailed approach, then cover at some length techniques for cutting a crisp rabbet with a skew rabbet plane, a straight rabbet plane or a shoulder plane (there are other hand-tool ways of course – but I teach what I know best).
In a short class, though, it simply isn’t possible to explore the options and offer choices/decisions. Instead I sharpen and set up ahead of time our Veritas skew rabbet planes (which are technically moving fillisters) for a 3/4-wide x 1/16″ deep cut, show the students how to use the tool (preferably without cutting myself on the corner of the blade while looking up and talking about the work instead of paying proper attention to what I’m doing), then send them off to do the work.
After filling almost 200 pages of “here’s lots of options,” it was difficult to remember to dial it back in the shop to what was possible to achieve in three days, with limited tool sets and varying skill sets among the students. But thank goodness I dusted off my in-person DTC teaching skills last weekend in our shop, where I know where to find everything. The next time I teach this tool chest will be in a few weeks in England, at the London IWF, where my own tool set will be severely limited and I’ll have no idea where to find anything.
And by the time I get back from England, I’m hopeful my book will be in the warehouse. Now I just have to not cut my signing fingers (I won’t – it’s always my left hand that gets cut by not paying attention to that pesky pokey-outie skew rabbet blade).
The following is excerpted from Dr. Jeffery Hill’s “Workshop Wound Care.” The book delves right to the heart of what you need to know when faced with common workshop injuries, from lacerations, to puncture wounds to material in the eye. Dr. Hill is an emergency room physician and an active woodworker. So he knows exactly the information a woodworker needs to know when it comes to injuries. And he presents information in a way that a non-medical professional can easily understand it.
There are a number of diseases that, due to their being very uncommonly encountered in the modern world, seem like quaint relics of antiquity. Diphtheria? Rubella? Mumps? Rabies? What even are those? There are a few diseases that have been completely eradicated (smallpox) or nearly completely eradicated (polio) thanks to sustained vaccination efforts. Tetanus, however, is here to stay on this earth through all of eternity regardless of our efforts at vaccination.
Why? Spores, that’s why
What is Tetanus?
Tetanus is a clinical condition caused by the tetanus toxin which produced by the bacteria Clostridium tetani. Clostridium tetani possesses the relatively uncommon ability to form spores (examples of other spore-forming bacteria include Clostridium botulinum, a.k.a. botulism, and Bacillus anthracis, a.k.a. anthrax).
Spores are exceptionally hardy bits of microbiology. Composed of a hard shell and just enough reproductive matter, they are typically produced when the bacteria run into rough times. A lack of nutrients, which would typically just kill off less fastidious bacteria, triggers C. tetani to produce these spores that can survive a lack of water, nutrients, presence of high amounts of radiation, freezing weather, boiling temps and even chemical disinfectants. Spores can remain viable in inhospitable environments for tens of thousands of years. C. tetani spores are most commonly found in soil, dust and manure, but can be found anywhere in the environment.
When tetanus spores find their way back to a hospitable environment they come alive and start to replicate, along the way producing tetanus toxin (awesomely named tetanospasmin). The tetanus toxin is taken up by the nervous system, ultimately ending up in the spinal cord and brain where it acts to block inhibitory signaling pathways. Because two negatives make a positive, the end result of this action is an excess of electrical transmission from the central nervous system to the muscles and severe muscle spasms.
Opisthotonus, which can be caused by tetanus, is a spasm of the muscles causing the head, neck and spine to arch backward.
These unopposed muscle contractions lead to the characteristic clinical manifestations of tetanus. “Lock jaw” is due to contraction of the jaw muscles. Contraction of the facial muscles results in “risus sardonicus,” a fixed smile/facial expression. And contraction of the back muscles results in severe arching of the back. But the neurotoxin doesn’t limit itself to the motor system; it can also lead to seizures and uncontrolledblood pressure (both high and low) and heart rate (also high and low).
If you have ever had a charley horse where your legs cramp up, you have a little taste of how terrifically painful muscle spasms can be. Now imagine that affecting your entire body. Also, because the tetanus toxin irreversibly binds with nerve cells, the uncontrolled nerve signals and muscle spasms continue until the body can grow new nerve endings (a process that is weeks to months long). Generalized tetanus can lead to broken bones, spasm of the respiratory muscles, and aspiration of stomach contents and food into the lungs. Ten to 20 percent of patients still die of tetanus despite modern medical therapies.
What Wounds are at High Risk for Tetanus Infection?
Tetanus infections don’t just come from rusty nails. In fact, all wounds – cuts, abrasions (both to the skin and eyes) and burns – are susceptible to tetanus infection. There are certain wounds, however, that are more prone to tetanus infection and create an environment where the tetanus bacteria will produce the tetanus toxin. Wounds that are dirty, puncture-type wounds and crush injuries are most at risk.
Logically, the more tetanus bacteria present in a wound, the higher the risk of infection. As such, injuries with significant contamination with soil are more likely to result in infection.
If the tetanus bacteria is pushed deep into the tissue, infection is more likely. Puncture wounds, in general, carry a higher risk of all types of wound infection. The narrow tract of a puncture wound is apt to quickly close over bacteria and other matter pushed deeply into the tissues. And, it is much more difficult to adequately clean at the time of injury, meaning it is much more difficult to use irrigation to decrease the number of bacteria present.
Because tetanus bacteria are more likely to grow and produce toxin in “devitalized” tissue, crush injuries are also highly susceptible to infection.
How does this translate to you, the woodworker? A scratch or minor cut from a chisel or knife is less risky. A injury from an axe or froe while breaking down green wood is more risky. (Though to reiterate: Any break in the skin carries a risk of tetanus infection.)
What About the Tetanus Vaccine?
The tetanus vaccine includes a component of the tetanus toxin called a toxoid. This toxoid is coupled with a diphtheria toxoid (Td) and often an acellular version of pertussis (TdaP).
As a side note, the risks of contracting diphtheria and pertussis in adulthood are sufficient enough that the administration of the whole package of TdaP is recommended by the CDC. Pertussis (whooping cough) can be common in older adults (often presenting as mild illness) and easily spread to incompletely vaccinated infants (often presenting as a severe respiratory illness). For this reason, if you are going to be around a new baby in the family (e.g. new grandparents), you’ll likely be asked to get a “tetanus booster” (though really you are boosting your pertussis immunity). Back to tetanus…
As with other vaccines, introducing the tetanus toxoid gives the body’s immune system a “wanted” poster of what the real toxin looks like, allowing the body to create neutralizing antibodies to the toxin. The typical vaccination schedule is for three doses of the vaccine to be administered at two months, four months, and six months of age, with boosters given around six to 12 months after the third dose, and again before entering kindergarten. Following that, boosters are recommended every 10 years. In the developed world, adherence to the recommended vaccination schedule is (thankfully) high, meaning that most people are “fully vaccinated” for tetanus through their childhood. It is not uncommon, however, for adults to miss out on their regular boosters. As a result of this, most cases of tetanus are reported in patients 50 years of age and older.
A profile view of the jaws (with stripped screw holes) in the original pine jaw of this “carver’s vise” (this one is from StewMac, where it’s called a “Guitar Repair Vise.”)
Every chair class Chris teaches seems to develop its own gravitational pull. It’s inevitable – if you orbit within 50 feet of a class taught by Chris Schwarz you will get sucked in.
Now getting sucked into a class can mean many different things: Perhaps it means assisting students taper chair legs by hand until your shirt starts sticking to you; or remaking an arm in record time due to a irreparable and untimely break; or sometimes becoming the designated lunch fetcher of the day (this task can quickly make you popular among the students).
I of course am speaking from experience. I’ve completed all of these tasks at least once and am in no way complaining about it. I openly love the infectious energy of a class week – it’s chaotic and exhausting at times and I live for it. I love walking into work unsure of what the day will hold.
While the palpable energy from last week’s class was no different, one of the tasks I was given was new to me.
With how often we use our tools here, on top of student usage, shop maintenance is a constant. Planes and chisels need sharpening, floors need sweeping and carver’s vises need new jaws.
This is nothing against our beloved carver’s vises; we use them daily here. There is, however, one fault we’ve found with most of them – the softwood jaws that come standard on the vises have a tendency to lose their heartiness over time. (The newly recast Grizzly vise comes with hardwood jaws.)
Either the constant use causes the screw holes of the jaws to strip (which is what happened in this case) or the soft pine cracks. Or both (which is what happened in this case). When these things happen, either oak or hickory are what we typically use for new jaws.
After Chris gave me a quick lesson on how to replace the old jaws, I got to work.
Below is a visual step-by-step of how I made this repair.
First things first: Unscrew the old jaws from the vise.
New adhesive-baked urethane is pricey. So I sawed off the old urethane, leaving about 1/8″ of pine backing.
A close-up of the cut.
The thin layer of pine must be planed flat for good adhesion to the new hardwood jaws. How to plane a piece less than 1/4″ thick? I used double-sided tape.
The double-sided tape held the pieces firm to the bench as I planed.
I traced new hickory jaws from the pine ones and cut them out on the band saw then planed them flat to prepare for glue-up. (Notice the crack in the old pine jaw on the lower left.)
After clamping the urethane to the hickory (which was a chore – it was slippery!), I used a toothbrush to clean up excess glue then let them clamped-up jaws dry for an hour.
After tracing the screw holes on the backs of the new jaws, I drilled pilot holes, which made screwing the new jaws in place a snap.
The following is excerpted from Derek Jones’ new book “Cricket Tables.”
Simplicity, necessity and ingenuity are the three key principles for making cricket tables. This traditional three-legged table exists in a variety of forms and woods – no two are the same. So making them follows an organic process – your tools and materials dictate your approach and your cricket table’s final form. Jones introduces the form, then teaches you the simple skills to create a variety of everyday furniture with a few basic hand tools and easily sourced materials.
Most people think Thomas Edison invented the lightbulb; he didn’t. He came up with a version that burned longer and brighter than anyone else had achieved, making it appealing to consumers and thus commercially viable. You could argue that he just piggybacked his way to glory but the fact is, the last few steps in perfecting anything generally requires the most effort. And for that we must give Edison credit where it’s due. Edison experimented with hundreds of different materials before settling on carbonized bamboo for his filament. He never viewed experiments in terms of success or failure. Knowing that something doesn’t perform the way you intended is just as valuable as knowing that it does. Over the course of his working life, he carried out more than 50,000 experiments to invent the alkaline storage battery and 9,000 to perfect the lightbulb. On paper those statistics look scary – you might even find them intimidating – but reframing the data as tens of thousands of things you now know the answer to is creative gold. For the record, among those “failures” was the groundwork for inventing the carbon microphone that went on to be used in telephone handsets for more than a century. The phonograph, originally thought of as just a tool for office dictation, became mainstream in every continent not long after. Its legacy is still burning bright albeit through the ether and into our ears. In his book “The Imagination Muscle” (Constable), Albert Read refers to this kind of behavior as “imaginative risk.” And if that concept doesn’t get you fired up and running toward the workshop then maybe stop reading, we’re probably done. In the same way Edison didn’t equate lack of success with failing I find it hard to see anything other than valuable lessons from my current tally of tables. Hand on heart, there isn’t a stinker among them if you truly value the process of design without fixating on the outcome.
Today we regard pared-down simplicity as a relatively modern concept. We know it as minimalism. As an expressive genre, the idea came about in the early 19th century as a somewhat idealistic view that enlightenment could be gained by adopting a less cluttered lifestyle both in possessions and thinking. In Western culture the idea already had traction before then through several religious ideals, the Shakers being the most well-known among woodworkers. In the Chinese religious philosophy Daoism, which incidentally has its roots somewhere back in the 4th Century B.C.E., there are three main virtues – non-action, naturalness and simplicity. These are obviously open to interpretation but the similarity between that train of thought and those practiced elsewhere throughout history suggest a natural desire among all life to eventually seek a simpler existence. Further guidance on upholding the virtues is offered by what is known as the Three Jewels: compassion, frugality and humility. Sound familiar? Arts & Crafts, Bauhaus, Zen and Feng shui all have similar influences because of a common thread. By asking us to turn away from the path we’re on in search of something different implies choice. Cricket tables, mostly, and vernacular furniture in general have different DNA. When necessity is in the driving seat, you end up with good, honest no-frills solutions.
Old or New? The first cricket table I made wasn’t so much a tour de force but a war of attrition. When I brought it into the house my partner approved, likening it to something that could have come from IKEA. And in a funny way she was right, that’s exactly what it looked like. Smooth lines, geometric form, pale “Scandi” color. After all isn’t that what IKEA does so well? I wonder what her reaction would have been to a period example, all wonky and encrusted with hundreds of years of grit and grime. There’s always something to be learned from an expert, but nobody speaks the truth like a complete novice. Factory-made furniture must appeal to the widest audience possible. It mustn’t offend. And like any good, backhanded compliment it should be taken in context. It’s important to understand that the relationship you have with the pieces you make will be very different to the one everyone else has. From that moment on I’ve not been able to look at cricket tables in any way other than contemporary and timeless. The few that I have made and attempted to create a period look through the finish feel slightly wrong.
The tables chosen for this section all have qualities from Daoism, Arts & Crafts, Bauhaus and minimalism either in form, process or intent. I appreciate that does sound a bit grandiose but it’s not that hard. Just picking up some tools and making something gets you 99 percent of the way there. They are good honest pieces, stepping stones toward making the perfect table. In case you’re wondering, I’m a long way off and hope I never will, but I do know the next one is a step closer.
