It is hard to find much on a WWII era battleship that relates to woodworking. Iron and steel rule for the most part.
My daughters and I visited the USS North Carolina (BB-55) located in Wilmington, NC. I have been there many times; it is one of those things that never gets old to me. The girls love because it is like the world’s largest playground with lots of places to hide from dad. Every time I visit I see some part I never noticed before.
Today it was the decking, more than an acre of almost flawless 8/4 teak. I never really looked closely at it before (I know, I am stupid), perfectly laid and fitted the entire 728 feet of deck. The deck drains were even perfectly executed. What is most amazing is this deck is not the original, it was replaced in 1998 with teak from Myanmar.
One other thing that was kind of neat were the seats in the galleys. Same idea as Mr. Schwarz’s workbench seat except these had a locking mechanism for holding them in the in or out position. I guess this was a battleship only option.
If you are ever in the Wilmington area the battleship is a great place to stop and spend an afternoon, or the whole day.
Three hundred years ago today, Jacob Arend (1688-1744), a journeyman cabinetmaker in his brother’s workshop in Würzburg, wrote a letter and hid it in a magnificent Baroque writing cabinet. The letter was not placed in one of the secret drawers common in 18th-century desks and cabinets – he hid the letter so well it was not found for 253 years. Sometime after writing the letter Jacob and fellow journeyman, Johannes Witthalm, left Würzburg to seek their fortunes elsewhere.
In his letter Jacob allowed us a rare look into his world and the extreme contrast between his living conditions and the luxury of the writing cabinet he and Johannes had made. You can read Jacob’s letter and what is known about his life here.
In the last year I found two notes that shed some light on what happened to Jacob in the ten-year gap between leaving Würzburg in 1716 and arriving in Fulda in 1726. The clue comes by way of Carl Maxillian Mattern (1705-1774), a more well-known German cabinetmaker. While C.M. Mattern was a journeyman he worked for a time with Jacob Arend in Pfaffendorf across the river from Coblentz (Koblentz). So, at one point during the ten-year gap Jacob returned to his hometown of Coblentz.
The possible dates for Mattern working with Jacob in Pfaffendorf are 1722-1726. The next tidbit is Jacob was called to the court of Fulda by Prince-Abbot Adolf. In March of 1726, Konstantin, Prince-Abbot of Fulda, died and was succeeded by Adolf von Dalberg (pictured below with a view of Fulda). Prince-Abbot Adolf ruled from 1726 to 1737.
There are a few pieces made by Jacob in museums, including the writing cabinet in the Victoria and Albert Museum. I found one more writing cabinet that was up for auction a while ago.
The cabinet is dated 1738 making it a work from Jacob’s Fulda shop. The dimensions are 200 cm x 134 cm x 69 cm (78.7 in x 52.8 in x 27.2 in). The veneers are nut wood, nut wood root and plum wood on a softwood base. This cabinet is not as ostentatious, nor does it have the exotic woods and rare materials as that last cabinet made in Würzburg, but it is splendid nevertheless.
At the end of Jacob’s letter he asked that the finder drink to their (his and Johannes’) health, or if they were no longer living, to their eternal rest and salvation. Scott Stahl, a dedicated reader of the Lost Art Press blog, suggested we follow Jacob’s wish and designate October 22 as Jacob Arend Day. So, raise your glass and honor Jacob and the artisans of the past.
The probability is that the haunch came into being as a matter of necessity. You know how, when making a door with grooved-in panel, the plough has to run right through so that a haunch to fill in the groove at the end simply has to be cut. It was soon perceived, however, that it does strengthen the joint because it opposes any twisting tendency at the otherwise unsupported end of the rail. This is explained in Fig. 1, which shows at A how there is nothing to prevent the edge from twisting should the wood be liable to do so, whilst at B the haunch offers direct resistance.
Some applications of the haunch are given in Fig. 2. At A is the grooved frame-work in which the haunch is essential to fill in the end of the groove. B is a plain, square-edged framework, whilst C is the same, but has what is known as the secret haunch. In many ways this is the best type of haunch. It is entirely concealed, it offers full resistance to twisting, and it is stronger since the short grain to the outside of the mortise is not cut away unduly. It can be applied to all tenon joints except the grooved type at A in which the haunch must fill in the groove end. A rebated framework joint is given at D, whilst E gives the application for a moulded and rebated framework.
The haunch should always be of the same thickness as the tenon, even when the groove (if any) is of different size. Take A, Fig. 2. It might easily happen that the groove was narrower than the tenon, and in this case it would merely be a case of enlarging the groove at the end to line up with the mortise.
When marking out the joint, always carry the mortise gauge along to the end of the wood as in Fig. 3, and continue down the end grain. The depth at the end can also be gauged in. The marks will not matter because they are removed when the waste allowance (shown shaded) is cut off. The haunch length should be squared across the outer edge of the tenoned part during the original marking out. A chisel should be used as this gives exact marking. In the case of the secret haunch at C, Fig. 2, allow it to stand in a trifle (see x) so that it is not revealed in subsequent trimming.
The proportion of the joint has to be considered (see Fig. 4). At A the tenon is so wide that the short grain beneath the haunch has little strength. If the tenoned piece were wrenched round it would probably split open the mortise. B goes to the other extreme, the haunched portion being strengthened at the expense of the tenon. At C a good proportion is shown; each part compromising to give the required strength.
Almost 269 years ago Abraham Carpenter, a cooper, advertised his many services in rhyme. This might be the first advertising jingle in the Colonies.
He had handsome (hansom) chairs and horses for hire at a time when the city had, other than walking or riding horseback, few means of transport.
Located near the the waterfront he offered masts for vessels and cringles for sails. And of course, he was a very good hoop-maker, even if he did say so himself.
Part of the season 36 episodes of the Woodwright’s Shop are now online. One of them is on testing tusk tenon joints that Roy and I filmed a few months back. I made an apparatus to pull the joints apart and measure the amount of force it took to make them fail. The results are pretty impressive. The episode is called “Wedged Tusk Tenon” and is available to stream here.
I also shot a short video showing the joint smoker in action that is available here.