New infill planes

[Juan Hovey]

I’ve been playing around with new designs for my infill planes, along with new production methods, and thought it might be time to post some photos.

Counting from the left, the first and third of these planes are the size of a Stanley 4.5, more or less - length about 10 inches, width 2 3/8 inches. The irons in these planes are 2 3/8 inches wide, pitched at 45 degrees. The infills respectively are Brazilian pepperwood – or so I was told by the acquaintance who gave me the billet from which I made the infill – and blue gum eucalyptus. The infill in the second plane from the left is black walnut, as is the infill in the last plane on the left. The infill in the plane next to that last one is black acacia. I gave these two planes the dimensions of a Stanley No. 4. Ditto the second plane from the left.

I'm not sure how it came to mind to carve that fillip atop the totes on the Brazilian pepperwood and black walnut planes on the left, but I can offer you a nice story. One day, using rasps to shape the tote on the black walnut plane, I thought: Why not have fun and maybe leave matters up in the air here, as it were?

I liked the result – and also saw the risk in the design: Drop the plane and it's a goner. But so what? The same risk is inherent in the bun on all my planes, which George Wilson, quoting someone who didn't like them one bit, likened to the gasp of a fish drowning in air.

That doesn't sound right. It wasn't George who compared the buns on my planes to a fish out of water. It was someone else; George passed the comment on to me in good faith, without endorsing it.

Even so, I took the comment without offense - mostly because that is in fact what the buns on my planes look like. But I also say: If there's something of the sea in the bun, the same is true of the tote on the two planes mentioned earlier as well, if you look closely at the shape of that fillip. Follow the lines converging on the fillip and you see the head and bill of a shore bird – an avocet, maybe (if avocets had short bills, that is) or a lowly duck with an upturned, snooty bill. Donald Duck had such a bill, as I recall.

It hadn't occurred to me that I might have had avocets or ducks or critters of any sort in mind when shaping that that particular fillip. But when someone pointed out that the lines were those of a shorebird, the light bulb in my head lit up and I recalled the many, many Sunday afternoons I spend with my sweet wife Elise on the seashore a few miles north of where we live in California, watching shorebirds chase down their prey in the sands of the beach as the waves of the ocean wash up on shore and then fall away again.
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I've made three planes with this design so far and have commissions for two more, both with infills of blue-gum eucalyptus. I call them my shorebird planes.

Here's another new infill, this one the size of a Stanley 5.25, more or less, with a 1 3/4 inch iron pitched at 45 degrees. The infill is ebonized black walnut via the vinegar-and-steel-wool method.
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[Pat Barry]

Beautiful work Juan.

[Tony Wilkins]

+1 Beautiful work Juan. I won't try an infill for fear I'll like them ('cause I know I can't afford them). Out of curiosity, interesting design on the tote - what's the inspiration?

[Juan Hovey]

+1 Beautiful work Juan. I won't try an infill for fear I'll like them ('cause I know I can't afford them). Out of curiosity, interesting design on the tote - what's the inspiration?

Tony - Thanks for the kind words.

You're asking about the bun, not the tote, right? I can't say I know where the inspiration came from. The first planes I made had buns like those in my recent planes, and since I subscribe to the idea that there are no new ideas under the sun, the good bet is that the idea didn't originate in the dark recesses of my mind but instead grew out of something I saw somewhere - maybe on a hand plane, maybe not.

Whatever the origin of the design, it's hardly traditional, and I've seen more than a few brickbats come at my head for that reason. On the other hand, it's functional; people who use my planes say they like the bun because it promotes control. I like the idea, too, and hope to go on making use of it.

[Chuck Hart]

Those are really art. I would be reluctant to use such beautiful work

[george wilson]

Juan,I am sorry I haven't yet sent you designs. I broke 2 fingers weeks ago and am a bit hampered by that. Before that,just too tired out. I hope some new therapy I'm getting will help,but it goes on for another month,at least.

I must warn you that the totes WILL break where they are so extremely thin at the top,where the finger loop nearly touches the top of the handle. I have seen that happen before. I do not care for the flip up at the top end of the totes,either. Sculpturally,it makes no sense. The tote on the black and white photo is ENTIRELY too thin in a couple of places. I hope you can see how easily it can be broken. If not,you will find out for yourself. I have tended at times to get too extreme in my sculpture. It has to be kept under control,keeping in mind the fragile nature of the end grain of wood in mind,in this case.

The cap screws look big and clunky. They would look much better if they were 1/2 the height of most of them. Look at old planes. You will hardly ever see cap screws with heads that thick on good,established makes. No telling what you will see on one-offs. Different knurling would also help. If the person who is making your cap screws now has a straight across knurl,instead of the diamond,it would look a lot better. I am sure that convex microscope knurling is out of the question,but that type knurling is the best aesthetically. They will rightfully expect you to fix the handles,too,where they are too thin,and crack.

No,it was not I who made the comment about your front buns looking like the last gasp of a fish out of water. Thank you for correcting that. I still think the front buns are too extreme,and would easily break off if the plane collided with something,or was dropped on the bun. Repair work is no fun,and whoever damaged the bun would probably expect you to fix it for free,although that would not be fair to you. Well,maybe a little fair,due to the delicate and exposed design.

Remember,it is not necessary to have a death grip on the front bun. The thrust is at the tote. The front bun grip just serves to keep the plane straight.

You must know that my critique is meant to be constructive,and I hope you heed it. I will get the new designs to you as soon as I can. They will be free,just to help you along. I want to help energetic,ambitious people.

I must commend your energy,for sure. You are certainly putting planes out!!

[Chuck Nickerson]

I have on of Juan's infills and really like the front bun. It makes it a very simple matter to lift the plane on the return stroke.
If (when?) I drop it that will be my problem.

[george wilson]

A problem I would rather not have. And,how many of his customers will feel that it was their problem,and not a design problem that they want fixed for free?

I hope you understand that Juan and I are friends.

[ken seale]

Hi Juan,

Your planes are coming along nicely! I especially like the sole on the 5¼ size plane. Nice lines.

I agree with George about the skinny upturned totes. They sure look good but I also would be worried about them breaking.

Ever thought about adding a "waist" to your front knobs?

Stop by next time you are in Lompoc.

Nick

[Mike Allen1010]

Beautiful work Juan!

Your execution is exquisite and I'm sure your planes are a joy to use (which for me is the most important thing). I can't design my way out of a paper bag and personally applied your creativity – the planes look very functional to me and I would love to have one.

All the best, Mike

[Ralph Juarros]

Juan, those are absolutely beautiful works of art - original, unique, stylish and surely functional. You are a true artist and a most talented craftsman.
I don't claim to be either nor a qualified critic of any kind, but I know what appeals to my eye; and your creations most certainly do.
No one can pretend to know what your eye sees nor tell your hands what to do,
but I sure do appreciate your original creations and would not dare suggest that you change anything any more than I would tell da Vinci or Michelangelo how or sculpt or paint.
Please continue to express yourself as your will commands- not as anyone else dictates.
This is your work. Do it your way.
I would pay admission to see it, and hope to see more of YOUR work. Ralph

[Juan Hovey]

Ralph, Mike, Ken, Chuck N., Chuck H., Tony, Pat - Many thanks. I can't say I have the designer's eye, so I have to keep at it until I like the result, mindful all the while that at some point, I won't like the design after all and will go right back to tugging and pulling at it. I also keep in mind something that Raney Nelson says about his own work: It's amazing how much difference comes from small changes in a design - from the jots and tittles of a curved line, as it were.

Anyway, thanks to all.

George - You're a hard taskmaster - the hallmark of the born teacher. I knew you'd give me a principled critique, and I'm grateful.

I look forward to seeing your designs.

Juan Hovey

[Derek Cohen]

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Hi Juan

No one has commented on the metalwork, as the emphasis has been on the handle.

It is clear to all that the workmanship is first class. The absence of comments here is actually a compliment.

I can see what you are attempting by way of design, but if it were mine I'd change a few items. I like the line at the rear of the metalwork. It has a good flow. However the "peak" (the high point) is too far forward. It could be brought back to a point midway between the screw. That would create a different balance.

Once that is done, it will change the curve you will want for the front of the handle. I cannot imagine holding this handle. It just curves too radically. Where will the hand go? It looks too sculptural - as though you have forgotten that this is a handle for a handplane in your endeavor to design something unique. Experiment with something based on a Bailey profile. I am also not a fan of the front "knob" - not that it curves in the way it does, but that it is so large. It needs to be much smaller, just large enough to guide the plane and not enough to unwittingly push down on. I suspect that the vector of the handle design along with the downforce from the knob encourages a large amount of downforce over the mouth, and that will make it harder to push.

As others have said, the workmanship is excellent. Focus on getting the design to that level.

Regards from Perth

Derek

[Juan Hovey]

Derek – You’re right about the peak in the ebonized walnut plane – and I ought to have pointed out when posting the photo that the plane itself was really an experiment in ebonizing that I couldn’t stop fooling with.

I found a flaw in the walnut when shaping the tote and, since I’d wanted to try my hand at ebonizing an open-grain wood using the vinegar and steel wool method, decided to test whether I could fill the flaw with epoxy tinted black and then ebonize the whole tote.

It didn’t turn out that well, I think because I didn’t ebonize the sawdust mixed into the epoxy but instead tinted it with an off-the-shelf ebony stain.

I should have stopped there, of course. Instead, I made a bun, grabbed the body in the photo, which I had made and decided not to use because of the peak, and practiced fitting tote and bun into the body – in my experience, the hardest thing to do in plane-making, and thus worth practicing.

The result is what you see – a plane with flaws that I could see all along.

Which is not to say that your critique fell on deaf ears. Instead, it prompted me to re-think the way I make my planes and, just to make sure that I didn't make the same mistake twice, check the drawings for my next batch to see where the peak would end up.

Start with the tote. I think the shape actually fosters the proper use of my planes. How? If you stand slightly behind the corner of a board you want to plane, one foot slightly behind your shoulder, the other a step and a half ahead, the tendency is to toe the plane, bite the edge of the board, and push both down and forward, bending the forward leg at the knee and leaning into the stroke so as to get the mass of the body into the game.

I don’t do that with my planes. They already have mass; they don’t need help. I stand over the board and, using the arms and shoulders only, move the plane rapidly across the wood using only enough downward pressure to keep the iron engaged – which, given the mass, is almost no pressure at all. I swing the arms and listen to the sweet “scream” of the wood as the iron shaves wood, and I vary the pressure on the tote to get the shaving I want – more pressure, heavy cut; less pressure, gossamer shavings.

The motion here is all arms and shoulders, with the mass of the body kept at bay, as it were.

It seems counter-intuitive, but the shape of the tote, I find, promotes the proper use of the plane. With other planes the heel of the palm ends up low on the tote, with the forearm and elbow more or less low and directly behind. You bite the edge of the board and push forward, leaning into the stroke from behind and thus, like it or not, getting the mass of the body into the game.

With my planes the heel of the palm rides farther up on the tote such that web between thumb and finger lifts the crown – or is it the horn? – and the fingers, in wrapping themselves around the handle, point downward, not forward. This in turn keeps the forearm and elbow up in the air, not down behind the plane. It also keeps the mass of the body on the sidelines.

So much for the mechanics. As for the aesthetics – the fillip arcing up into the air, the wide arc directly behind the iron, the thin wall directly above – I can say only that at age 69 I am willing to risk things that would have appalled me at a younger age, including the risk that the planes I make turn out to be, shall we say, something other than traditional in design, so long as they spit out those lovely, fluffy, gossamer shavings. Indeed, I tell myself to remember Hillel: If I am not for myself, who is for me? And when I am for myself, what am I? And if not now, then when?

My defense, in other words, is entirely personal, and not so much defiant as based in the reality that I probably don’t have 20 years to make planes, and if I don’t make planes now that make me smile, I never will.

Juan