Shaking my head with resignation masquerading as wisdom
I’m done with this batch of frankenpens. It could be the last since I am getting rather short on old parts that will fit together into a pen shaped form. For the first time here’s a portrait of them all together. There are two Sheaffer Thin Models, a Sheaffer Tuckaway, and a Parker 51 Demi. I hope this very dysfunctional family has entertained you.
I’m back at the pens from parts thing with two frankenpens under construction right now. One is a Sheaffer similar to what I’ve done before but the other is a Parker 51. This is the first non-Sheaffer I’ve created and it’s been interesting so far. There are three plastic parts visible and offer a choice of color: The blind cap, barrel, and hood or shell. The one thing about this kind of pen I don’t like is that they all had a metal cap which means no color choice for that part.
If you’ve noticed how short the barrel looks in the photograph that’s because it’s actually a Parker 51 Demi model. This model was intended for women and has a foreshortened barrel. I’ve always liked them since 51s seem cuter in this diminutive size. The Demi was introduced right on the tail end of the Vacumatic filler’s life and lasted for only a year in this form.
I got the idea to make this pen from a comment someone had made about one of my previous frankys. Since this person inspired me the pen will be traveling out to them when completed. It’s a surprise so I’m not going to give away who the recipient is.
Oh, the pen has been named “Demistein”.
The post before last I described a Sheaffer nib that I couldn’t quite classify. It was a triumph nib with a wide point and some flexibility which wasn’t like anything I had seen before (not that I’ve seen very much). Well, I’ve come across some information that may help to figure this nib out a little.
Old manufacturer’s catalogs are an invaluable resource for vintage pen information. In the past you usually had to be lucky enough to find one at a flea market, buy a reproduction, or get it lent out to you. None of these options is acceptable for someone like me who needs instant gratification and has no patience. Luckily I stopped by Bill Acker’s site and saw that he is now selling PDF downloads of catalogs! I purchased four from Sheaffer right off the bat and one was for the year of the Tuckaway with mystery nib (1949). Take a look at the image below of the nib styles for that year.
Surprising how many points types there were for triumph nibs in 1949, isn’t it? The one problem with this illustration is just that. A photograph would give more detail to go on when trying to match my nib with the ones on this page. I think we can narrow it down a bit now at least. Which one do you think it is?
It’s great when you have an indicator of what type of nib is on a vintage pen. Some Wahl examples had “flexible” stamped on them so it’s pretty clear what you’ve got. Sheaffer Snorkels had codes lightly etched on the base of their nibs corresponding to a certain point type. A feed may have numbers on it which could be decoded to give the same kind of information like on a Parker 75. If you’re really lucky you might have your hands on a pen that’s new old stock (never was sold) with a factory identification sticker or chalk mark relating the vitals about the type of line it will create.
Realistically the vast majority of vintage pens one can buy are bereft of any readable information. To know what kind of line that shiny gold thing at the end is going to put down you need to do a close inspection as well as use the pen. There’s no real standard about what makes a fine, medium, or bold point what they are. If you draw a very thin line with a fountain pen you say “fine point” and if it’s pretty thick you say “bold point.” Stub, italic, and music nibs can be seen to be what they are by usually by eye. Knowing when you come across a flexible nib is a combination of subjective considerations and experience. Many people mistakenly think a semi-flexible nib is full flex because they’ve just never used the latter.
Now that we know the confusion that can be had on the topic of nib grading and identification let us look at a prime example of “huh?” I have a Sheaffer Touchdown filling Tuckaway model which has a nib I can’t quite categorize. It was sold as a bold nib, but bold nibs usually have a pretty good spherical blob of tipping material on them. This one has a thin edge to it almost like a stub nib. So, is it a stub? Well, it has pretty rounded shoulders that make me question that. And to make matters a little more interesting it has some flex to it when used.
Closely inspecting the construction of the upper part of the nib in question (nib A) we see some more oddness. I’ve included a few images of both this nib and a contemporary medium-ish Sheaffer nib for comparison (nib B). As nib A approaches its point you can see that it becomes flattened which is shown well in the back and side view images below. Nib B maintains a lateral curvature in this same area before getting a little flatter closer to the tip. It’s this flatness that allows nib A to flex more than nib B which has stiffer tines due to that arch shape being carried through. Another difference is that the feed ends a bit lower on nib A so it won’t bump on the paper when the tines spread. Lastly, you can observe how wider tines give nib A the shovel like appearance at its end reminiscent of a stub nib.
So, I don’t know what this nib is really. I’ll call it a bold with some stub like qualities. Look at the images and writing sample and see if you can come up with the answer.
(Click on images below for full size)
The new pen I’ve been building is finished. Last post you saw the parts and now you can see it all together. By agreement with its owner the pen will be called “Tuckenstein” to represent it being both a frankenpen and a Sheaffer Tuckaway model. The only change I made from when I laid out the parts earlier was to switch the blind cap from blue to green. The blue one was too tight and so I replaced it with a better fitting one. I don’t think it changes the overall look of the pen a great deal.
It wasn’t too hard to do final assembly on this pen except for finding the correct screw to attach the blind cap. I stole a synthetic rubber o-ring from a Sheaffer Imperial which fit well enough to allow the touchdown tube to achieve a good seal when moving up and down inside the barrel. It’s important to have this good seal since in this system of filling a sudden compression of air is achieved by pushing that tube downwards which deflates the sac. That sac will then inflate and in that way draw ink up. Lastly the old spare nib used needed a good amount of smoothing to make it write well.
It may not be something a mere mortal should attempt but another pen has been brought to life!
If you’ve been collecting, fixing, and futzing with pens for as long as I have you wind up with a lot of pen parts. Often these bits are leftovers from a broken pen you may have bought to salvage parts from to fix another. You hope that someday you’ll need some of the leftover pieces but unless you do pen repair as a business (which I do not) they’ll just gather dust.
A while ago I was rummaging through my cabinet of pen curiosities and realized I had a lot of Sheaffer Snorkel parts. There were more than enough to make quite a few pens out of. The down side was that there were not enough parts of the same color to make a monotone pen except for black. Black, although suitable for all formal occasions, is quite a boring pen color so I didn’t bother.
Sometime after noticing my parts surplus I was talking to a friend and realized she never had owned a Snorkel. Since I think everyone should have one (or two) of this remarkable pen I had an idea: Take the colorful mish-mash of parts and form a single pen from them. This would match my friend’s eclectic nature (and my own whimsy) as well! So with that a pen made of parts from many other pens (generically known as a “frankenpen”) was born. After the woman in question, Leigh Reyes, received the monstrosity she christened it “Frankensnork.”
I thought Franky (for short) was going to be a one off since I couldn’t imagine many people would find such a conglomeration of parts attractive. Surprisingly, I was proven wrong when the pen was shown around to other pen fanciers and they expressed a desire for one of similarly bizarre construction. A few months later I had fulfilled such slightly askew wishes with three more pens. Two were Snorkels, Bride of Frankensnork & Son of Frankensnork, and one was a Sheaffer Thin Model I named Thinenstein. Those pens have since found their way into the hands of some good friends, both here and abroad, who I hope are happy with them.
Never knowing when to stop I’ve taken up the mad scientist mantle again to build another horror pen. Sadly, there were not enough parts to make a multi-hued Snorkel again but I did discover enough to create a Sheaffer Tuckaway. This pen model was quite short with an abbreviated clip and intended for vest pockets or ladies’ purses. It’s filled via the Touchdown method so in my bizarre naming scheme it has become Spawn of Thinenstein! Well, it was Baby of Thinenstein prior to that but I didn’t think it theatrical enough a name.
I’ve just assembled all the parts I will need and below is an image of them arranged somewhat in the order they are put together. When I’m done and before I ship it off to its waiting owner I’ll take a picture of the finished product.
Even newer pens can quickly need some tender loving care. Recently some simple repair work came up on a pen that shouldn’t have needed it. It was purchased used but promised to be in working condition which, as you can guess, was not an accurate description. Still, I’m happy I did get to do this work since it’s an interesting pen with a bit of a story.
Several years ago Richard Binder, well known for his specialty nib work, and Filcao, a little known Italian pen manufacturer, collaborated on a design. Called “Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean” it is styled in the mold of a vintage writing instrument. CTGOTO (I love acronyms) has solid, square shouldered good looks and a moderately large size which makes it comfortable to use. The luxury of a sterling silver cap band is a contrast to the humble steel Schmidt nib. But it is not a simple nib since Mr. Binder has in this case tweaked it to be a cursive italic. Orange flecked blue acrylic used for the barrel and cap is the finishing touch to this attractive ensemble.
Worth noting here is something not seen too often on modern pens: a button filler. With the original Duofold Parker put this filling method on the map as a way around patents like Sheaffer’s for the lever filler. It is novel, quaint, and best of all works easily in the following manner: A button under the blind cap at the end of the barrel is pushed down to start the process. This button rests on one end of a spring steel pressure bar and the other side is anchored in the niche between the sac nipple and the inside wall of the barrel. This unit will flex with the downward pressure compressing the sac that it sits next to. When the button is release the sac inflates which draws the ink into it.
When this pen came to me I was surprised to find that the rubber sac had hardened and broke. Usually you wouldn’t think that could happen on a pen this new, but it did. My guess is that the sac may have been old stock and had aged even before it was used. Either way, it was an inky mess inside when disassembled. To fix it all that was needed was a scrubbing and a new sac. A silicone sac was used since I like the fact they don’t degrade like rubber ones over time. Below are a few pictures of the process.
This is the pen taken apart for the repair. Not really very many parts for this filling system.
The pressure bar sits next to the sac like shown here. The button at the end forces it to flex.
After section with sac screws into the barrel you insert the pressure bar from the other end until I seats near the section.
You can see the end of the bar peeking out. Next the button and retaining washer is screwed onto the end.
Here is the barrel all done.
I have a weakness for Sheaffer Snorkels and I’ve already talked a bit about one in an earlier post. They were from that writing era between fountain pens with expressive nibs and the evil empire of the ball point pen. The precise lines of nail like fine and medium point pens were the hallmark of this period. Even if most people were happy with this dull situation Sheaffer still offered a wide variety of Snorkel nibs with flair. Those special order nibs, as well as some made in Canada, England, and Australia which catered to those markets less uniform tastes, offer a real treat for the collector today.
Determining if you have found an oddball nib is by the numbers. Well, actually numbers and letters since Snorkel nibs were marked on the front or back with a code. I’m not going to discuss Sheaffer’s elaborate numbering system for their Snorkel fountain pen nibs since places like PenHero.com have great articles on the subject. What I’m going to do here is show my interesting nibs so you can see a few examples and in later posts some will get a more thorough review.
If you want to find one of these great nibs keeping your eyes open is the first rule. Not all of them have retained their grade markings since wiping, polishing, and just normal wear can remove them over time. If those codes are gone look for tell-tale signs such as the flat edge of a stub point or the lack of an impressed grove between the silver and gold on a two tone flex nib. In general they are the proverbial needle in the haystack so obtaining one comes down to luck or enough loot for a purchase from a vintage pen seller.
Here are a few larger images where the nib grade codes can be clearly seen:
This flexible fine nib captures some of the essence of the “wet noodles” from the early part of the 20th century.
Able to put down a line as bold as a thick Sharpie this flexible stub is quite amazing. This single-tone nib was the least expensive one Sheaffer sold in solid gold but was still offered in all the usual variations.
“Right Oblique Stub Point Palladium-Silver Triumph Nib” is a long moniker. The obliques are hard to use since the pen really needs to be held at the right angle.
Chris Gryder is a talented artist and a friend of mine (plug for his work here). A few weeks ago he was looking at one of my fountain pens and asked what a reasonably priced pen to start out with was. The pen that first came to my mind was one loaned to me a little while ago by another talented artist friend, Pep Manalang (plug). This was a Pilot 78G which is not only very reasonably priced (it can be had for $12.00) but delivers a fantastic writing experience.
Most of the credit to why the pen is so attractive goes to the bold nib. It writes more like a stub and give some nice line variation. In addition it’s a smooth writing pen which can be a rarity at this price point. The construction is robust and it comes in a number of colors (although, except for the red, they are a bit subdued).
I hope Chris enjoys this pen. Even if he doesn’t become a fountain pen nut like myself he’ll be able to sign his name with some impact. An artist needs that, I think.
Mostly my fountain pen collection has focused on vintage pens. After all, if they’ve lasted 60 years and still work then they must have something going for them. The complex filling systems and many tiny little parts that make old pens a nightmare for some is what I enjoy most. Few modern pens have ever crept into my consciousness over the years. This changed not too long ago when a collector friend of mine who had an impressive collection of modern (and almost modern) Japanese pens introduced them to me. At first I only gave a nodding recognition to this corner of the hobby but the more I saw and read about them the greater their appeal became.
What makes Japanese pens interesting is the confluence of exacting craftsmanship, creative manufacturing, and ancient artisanship. Manufacturers in that country for decades have used modern technology to advance this very anachronistic form of writing instrument. Take, for example, the Pilot Vanishing Point with its retractable nib/reservoir unit or the Pilot MYU that uses a single seamless piece of extruded stainless steel to form both the grip and nib of that pen. Even advances in ink technology, such as using graphite as a colorant base for a black ink, came from the fertile pen makers of Nippon.
It is not just technology and manufacturing prowess that fascinates me about Japanese pens but also the artistry they can apply to the simple cylindrical form. Motifs like Ukiyo-e have been applied to painted, inlaid, and sterling silver pens there for many years. We’re not talking the garish limited editions you see from western pen companies but something richer and more subtle. In the case of the pen discussed here we see two marvelous traditional methods of decoration: urushi and maki-e.
Since the early 20th century urushi varnish has been used in Japan as a coating over the base pen material (usually hard rubber) due to its ability to protect as well as its long wearing attributes. This varnish is the sap from the Toxicodendron vernicifluum (love those official names) and as that name indicates is a toxic and caustic substance. Careful handling is necessary to utilize it but when the varnish dries it forms a clear and extremely hard waterproof coating. It can be colored as well to form an opaque finish. A great deal of skill and experience is needed to apply even coats of urushi between the long periods required for drying making it a labor intensive process.
Maki-e is a decorative art that where metallic gold, silver, or platinum powders are sprinkled or brushed onto designs made with tacky urushi. Eventually the design is made section by section and coated with a final application of varnish. It’s a craft that takes many years of training before mastery. Quite a few variations to this technique exist including raised designs and incorporating granular powders for a textured exterior.
My pen is a Danitrio Takumi and uses both gold and platinum dust to form a picture of Japan’s Mt. Fuji. It is made of black hard rubber with burgundy colored urushi on the cap and black urushi on the barrel. A young artist named Hironobu Okazaki created it and he is the third generation of maki-e artists in his family. His work pushes the boundaries of this time-honored art form with some novel designs and coloration (such as the two tone work here.) The pen is not only beautiful but writes very well with its smooth stub nib. Although large it’s surprising light and feels great in the hand. Both elegant and a surprisingly practical writing instrument this pen is a fine example of Japanese art in pen form.
