Reader Tim Williams writes: I have a number of old Stanley planes that I?ve spent a lot of hours cleaning and refurbishing. I?ve read multiple places about how when tuning up a plane, it?s a good idea to flatten the mating surfaces of the frog so the iron beds well, with lots of contact, to avoid chattering.

However, I find that whenever I take a flat iron and attach a chipbreaker to it, the tension of the chipbreaker on the iron puts a very gentle curve on the iron. So, when I attach the chipbreaker and iron to the frog, there?s a very slight gap under the middle of the iron (just enough to see light through if I hold it up to a light). I?ve tried loosening the bolt holding the chipbreaker and iron together to reduce the tension, but if I loosen it enough to remove the tension, the iron slides against chipbreaker.

 On one plane, I?m using a Hock chipbreaker. It mates more fully against the iron and doesn?t curve the iron, so it appears to bed better on the frog.  Finally, I?ve not really used these enough to notice much chattering.  Should I even be worrying about this?
 
What's happening here is that you have too much curvature in your chipbreaker. When you cinch down the iron, it bends to match the shape of the breaker. There are several solutions to this: You can remove some of the curvature in your chipbreaker. Place one end of the breaker in a vise and push against it gently. It will bend easily. Then try again.

Another solution is to replace the iron with a thicker aftermarket iron. This is always a good idea. The thicker iron will resist bending. Or you can replace both the iron and chipbreaker, which is what I like to do with vintage handplanes that I am going to use for high-tolerance planing (jointing or smoothing).

The bigger question is if the bending is even a problem. It depends. With some forms of planes (such as infill planes) the lever cap puts so much pressure on the iron and breaker right up by the mouth that it doesn't matter if the iron ouches the frog or not.

In Bailey-style planes, the more contact you get between the frog and iron the more stable the whole assembly will be and the less likely that bad things will happen, such chattering or the plane going out of adjustment while planing.

When I set up a Bailey plane, what I shoot for is a flat sandwich of frog, iron and breaker, as shown in the photo above. That works best.

? Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Our RSS feed has been bockety this week. If you like this post, you might also like my post earlier this week on how to understand the system of bench planes which is here.

Almost every day I get an e-mail or a phone call that goes something like this: "I'm a beginner. I want to buy some handplanes. But I have no idea where to start or what to buy. Help."

I'm happy to answer these questions (it's my job), but I noticed after 12 years of answering these pleas that I was saying many of the same things over and over again. So last night I did a mid-sized brain dump on the bench planes ? both bevel-up and bevel-down.

It explains my rationale (and the historical rationales) for each plane size, from the No. 1 up to the No. 8. I fully admit that this article has a lot of opinions in it, but they are opinions based on a lot of work and experimenting with many different methods of work (there's a good reason I grew a beard like David Charlesworth's....)

In any case, you might find this article useful, infuriating or amusing. It might also help you if are ever asked: "Hey, I'm a beginner...."

Read the Full Article: "Understanding Bench Planes"

? Christopher Schwarz

If you ask me, the first backsaw you should buy should be a carcase saw. It's handy for all manner of crosscuts when building furniture. But you never see reviews in woodworking magazines that compare the different brands. Why?

Well, there is of course the vast conspiracy that all the woodworking magazine editors have sworn a blood oath to uphold (right Asa?). But aside from that, there weren't a lot of brands of carcase saws to compare until recently.

This summer I got to test the prototypes for the newest carcase saws from Gramercy Tools in Brooklyn, N.Y. These were functioning saws that had poplar handles, and I used them to build a sawbench (what else?) for a class I taught in Portland, Ore.

The Gramercy saws were impressive and different than the saws offered by other top-notch makers, including Lie-Nielsen, Adria and Wenzloff & Sons. Within the next two weeks, Joel Moskowitz of Gramercy Tools says they will start shipping out the production versions of the carcase saws. This news will make saw shopping a bit tougher this year because the Gramercy Tools carcase saws are extremely good.

The Gramercy carcase saws come with either a rip or crosscut tooth and are $179.95 each (kits and sets are also available at ToolsforWorkingWood.com). The rip version has 12 points per inch, zero rake and is intended for cutting tenon cheeks or larger dovetails. I prefer a larger tenon saw for these tasks, so I didn't spend a lot of time testing this prototype.

The crosscut version of the carcase saw is a real sweetheart, and I've been testing a production version of that tool for the last few weeks in our shop. Here are some details of the tool and my initial impressions.

The Gramercy crosscut carcase saw has 14 points per inch. The teeth are filed with 14° rake and about 20° to 22° of fleam. What does this mean? The rake angle (which is how far forward or back each tooth leans) controls how easy the saw is to start and how aggressively the tool cuts. The Gramercy's rake isn't all that different than other carcase saws I've tried ? 14° to 15° is a common rake.

The Gramercy seems to have a bit more fleam than other saws I've tried. The fleam is the bevel on the front of each tooth. The angle you choose for your fleam trades off a smooth cut vs. a durable edge. Another important detail: The Gramercy saws are both filed and set by hand with a hammer.

This additional hand work and the fleam make the Gramercy the smoothest-cutting carcase saw I've tried. And a smooth cut is important when cutting tenon shoulders, a common task for a carcase saw.

Other details of the Gramercy that I like include its delicate folded brass back, which makes the tool lightweight at 12.6 ounces. Plus I also like the fact that the blade is canted ? there is 2" of blade depth under the brass back at the toe and 2-1/4" of blade depth at the handle. This was a feature on early saws and has some real advantages. Here's my favorite: When sawing you reach your final depth on the front side of the board (which you can see) before you reach your final depth on the back side of the board (which you can't).

The handle is walnut and has the details you would expect from a fine 18th- or 19th-century saw. While I found the handle of Gramercy's dovetail saw to be a little small for my hand, the carcase saw's handle suits me very well.  

So which brand of carcase saw should you buy? I think this is a question that's akin to which smoothing plane you should buy. Functionally, all the premium saws are excellent ? embarrassingly better than the junk that was foisted on us before Pete Taran and Patrick Leach changed the world of backsaws.

Though all the manufacturers would likely disagree with me, I think the biggest differences among the saws are the aesthetics and how each handle fits your hand. And those are points on which I cannot help you.

? Christopher Schwarz

One of my favorite woodworking projects I saw in Germany: A hand-powered Ferris wheel at a Christmas street fair.

Whenever I travel abroad, I always ask the locals about woodworking as a hobby. More times than naught, I hear that building furniture for fun is about as popular as do-it-yourself knee surgery.

Is this really true? And if so, why?

I guess some of the reasons would be obvious. In poorer countries, people are too busy scratching out a living to engage in a hobby that requires tools, a workspace and wood.

But other reasons I've been given are more difficult to pin down and relate to culture, tradition and sometimes law.

When I was in Germany a couple years ago I got to tour a couple professional woodworking shops and talk to people who make and sell furniture.

The woodworking I saw there was excellent. The tools and machinery they used (much of it made in Germany and Austria) was higher in quality and price than what I see in a typical American professional shop.

And the country has a remarkable history of fine craftsmanship that stretches back many centuries.

Yet, woodworking for fun (with the exception of carving) isn?t terribly common in Germany, according to the toolmakers, professionals and locals that I chatted with.

This surprised me. The country has the tools, the traditions and vast forests.

One explanation I heard was that houses were smaller and were more likely to be masonry, as opposed to our stick-built wooden houses. So there isn?t as much room for a shop. And working on your house ? a common way to enter the craft ? is more difficult.

Another explanation I heard was that becoming a professional woodworker was a tightly regulated process in Germany. And that you have to be certified to sell your work. Other countries I?ve been to had a different set of explanations and challenges.

In fact, this week I heard from an American woodworker living in China who was having a heck of a time finding a way to purchase woodworking tools and machines ? most of which are made right there in China.

He was contemplating having a friend in the States order the tools and ship them to him. So his trim router would have to cross the Pacific twice.

What have you found in your travels? I've found lots of woodworkers in Great Britain, Australia and other English-speaking countries where communication is easy. Or if you're in another country yourself, what can you tell us about woodworking as a hobby? Is there a secret underground of Swedish chairmakers?

? Christopher Schwarz

Normally when a book publishing company sends out a copy of its newest book, the marketing people will include a transcript of a short interview with the author that discusses the book. This is so that a lazy writer can quote the interview without having to actually do the interview.

What, you didn't know this? Well that's because these canned interviews are about 97 percent worthless. And any writer who quotes from them will be ritually shunned at the next gathering of media professionals (usually held at a stinky bar).

Not so with the interview that accompanied Roy Underhill's new book, "The Woodwright's Guide: Working Wood with Wedge & Edge" (UNC Press). The folks at the University of North Carolina Press conducted a fairly amusing interview with St. Roy. And so we're reprinting it here in its entirety for you to enjoy.

By the way, in case you missed it, check out the review I wrote of Underhill's new book for the blog last week.

? Christopher Schwarz

Q: How does The Woodwright?s Guide differ from other books in the Woodwright?s series?
A: The Woodwright?s Guide is an environmentally organized guide to woodcraft. It starts in the forest with felling the tree and ends with the final finishing in the workshop. My other books have followed a similar path, but this is the most comprehensive guide in the series, benefiting from thirty years of experience. It is also my first line-illustrated book with brilliant drawings by my daughter Eleanor. Her drawings, done from my photographs, give clarity to the ideas but retain the specificity of the places and the real people who do this wonderful work.

Q: How did your collaboration with daughter, Eleanor, come about?
A: Both my daughters, Eleanor and Rachel, worked with me on television and traveled with me to museums around the world. When it came time for the new book, I was looking at thirty years of photography of tools and techniques. Having Eleanor make drawings from the photos gave us both consistency and specificity.

Actually both daughters worked on the book. Eleanor did the drawings, and the ones that needed retouching went to Rachel. Both my daughters grew up surrounded by wood and tools, and it?s wonderful that we can still work together!

Q: Are there any special features of this book you?d like readers to be aware of?
A: The Woodwright?s Guide is a book with grain?just like wood. You can work it with your left-brain intellect, following the ideas in the text like a wedge following a split. You can also engage your right brain by grasping the ?gestalt? captured in the illustrations. You can also put both the brain and hands to work because in the back of the book I have plans for workbenches, screw-cutting engines, and treadle lathes. I only regret that we weren?t able to include a few Band-Aids with each copy?but that?s in the works.

Q: What is the meaning of the book?s subtitle, Working Wood with Wedge and Edge?
A: The thread of ?wedge and edge? runs through the entire book. A blade meeting wood either splits it as a wedge or cuts it as an edge. Wedge and edge consciousness in your woodworking gives meaning to the feedback through the tool handle, guiding your decisions with every move. Wedge and edge means honest woodworking that engages both the grain and the brain.

Q: What do you hope this book will impart to your many readers and fans?
A: I hope everyone can share the sense of wonder at the complexity and beauty of our connection to tools and wood. Our language, our culture, our ways of thinking, all evolved with the tools in our ancestors? hands. Artisanship in wood is part of every human?s legacy, so let?s honor it.

And it?s not just nostalgia. We know that biodiversity is important to us. Well, so is techno-diversity. We can value heirloom technology just as we value heirloom tomatoes. It may not be commercial, but it sure tastes better!

Q: What led you to give up power tools and devote yourself to a career of working exclusively with hand tools?
A: During the back to the land movement of the 1970s I was homesteading in the New Mexico mountains, struggling to live off the grid. A chance encounter with a tool collector?s trove of treadle-powered tools made me realize that an advanced technology of non-electric machines had once flourished and then been abandoned. This was during the energy crisis of the 1970s and the deep significance of sustainable technology hit many of us like a trip hammer (a water-powered trip hammer, of course).

Q: What about woodworkers who blend the use of power tools with hand tools? Is this book also for them?
A: Curiosity is the ultimate power tool. If you work with wood, or just live on a planet where people work with wood, this is the book for you. That?s because The Woodwright?s Guide cuts deep, both into the way wood works, and into the history of the way we work it. So, if you?re trying to do better at a single task of joinery, this book brings you the observations of a thousand years. And, if you?re curious about our enduring relationship with the natural world, The Woodwright?s Guide will give you a sharper axe to hew your own insights.

Q: What have you been up to since your last Woodwright?s book, published in 1996, and how has it influenced this volume?
A: Shooting the PBS series The Woodwright?s Shop gives me the chance to travel and meet craftsmen and women from all over the world. It?s astounding the extraordinary depth of knowledge so many people have about specific areas of the craft. But it?s the stories I appreciate the most. From woodcarver Nora Hall, I heard stories of her father?s carving shop during the Nazi occupation of Holland. Even the work-worn log cabins and ground-down tools preserved at the Museum of Appalachia tell stories?stories of life and hard work in America?s ?wooden age.?

Q: What or who have been the major inspirations during your career?
A: Working at Colonial Williamsburg (in spite of the fife and drum parades) was my university of hand craft. The master craftsmen at Colonial Williamsburg are people at the top of their art. It was a constant struggle for me to live up to their high standards of historical research, craftsmanship, and aesthetic sensibility. Still, it was a great place for me, a generalist, to be. If I needed to know something about wheel wrighting, blacksmithing, cooperage, or any of the trades that built our civilization, all I had to do was walk down the street and ask one of the master craftsmen. As Francis Bacon put it, this was a place where ?Many ingenious practizes in all trades . . . shall fall under the consideration of one man?s mind.?

Q: You wrote your first Woodwright?s Book in 1981, over 25 years ago. Have you seen a resurgence in interest in hand-crafted woodworking during this period? Have attitudes changed? Has working with hand-tools gone in and out of style, according to larger trends in popular culture?
A: The cycle of high tech and high touch goes back hundreds of years. The first hand-craft, how-to book in English, Mechanick Exercises, or the Doctrine of Handiworks, was published in 1678. Even then, they were as much concerned with the virtues of ?vanishing? hand craft as they were in getting the job done.

Now, of course, we are at a technical crossroads, and it?s good to have a back-up in case the big machine breaks down or runs out of gas. And if you?re going to have a hobby, it might as well be ethical. It seems counterproductive to make a nice wooden cradle for your grandchildren if you choose to make the planet uninhabitable in the process.

But even without the green issue, making things directly with our hands goes to the full depth of our humanity. We?ll never be done with it. Making something gives us the same kind of primal happiness we feel when we encounter a berry bush loaded with ripe fruit. Just as the old hunter-gatherer still resides in each of us, so too does the ancient hand craftsman.  

Q: How does the work you do and the way you do it connect to a larger philosophy of life?
A: It?s a mission. With the gross failure of the intellectual class, it has fallen to the craftsman to expose the hidden power inequities of society. Subversive woodworking has to take the lead, helping people make a choice between mindless consumerism and conscious craftsmanship. Just say ?NO? to power tools! Let?s take a bite outta Norm!

Q: Why do you think your many fans have coined the nickname ?St. Roy? to describe their devotion to you?
A: I?ve cut myself so many times on the television program that I remind folks of unfortunate martyrs like St. Sebastian. He met his fate on the receiving end of arrows, and St. Simon has an even more distressing history with the saw. I have the chisel. 

In my own defense, however, my TV director kept yelling ?Cut!? and I was just trying to oblige.