Hi,
I was recently given a double stone (course/smooth) and was wondering how to find out if it is a water or oil stone? The only marking on it said carborundum (spelling??). Does it matter if you use water on an oil stone or oil on a water stone? What’s the difference? Thanks…
Steven
Replies
It's an oil stone. Use kerosene instead of oil when you sharpen. This is an old and proven lubricant that keeps the metal particles in suspension above the surface of the stone. Check your stone to make sure it's flat. If it isn't, place 220 silicon carbide sanpaper on a glass sheet and rub the stone until it's flat.
By the way, I have switched from stones to sandpaper on glass for all my sharpening. Less messy and works great.
Don
I'm strongly considering making the reverse switch back to oil stones with an extra fine ceramic stone thrown in for good measure. My reasons are 1) the space occupied by the sheet of glass - it really needs it's own bench which I find bordering on absurdity; 2)Sandpaper-on-glass won't work for inshaves, drawknives, etc. 3) The hassle of cutting sandpaper and gluing it down to the glass (I know, you can wet it and it will hold, but that's a hassle too); 4) Oilstones are traditional - some of the finest furniture ever produced was made with cutting edges honed on oil stones; 5) I still use an oilstone for my scrub plane iron.
My biggest objection is to the space the glass needs. It's fragile. I'm tired of cleaning adhesive off it. I'm tired of moving it around my shop. I don't have time to build a 'sharpening station'. A sharpening station is a load of crap. I like Sgian's mentor who pulled a stone out of an old bucket, or some such thing, and whipped a razor edge on a tool in the time it would take you to fart. In fact, it was Sgian's post on another forum very recently that really got thinking about this more and more.
I sure agree with you about our desire for getting it done without alot of hassle. Finewoodworking once did an article about a guy that made big sculptures. His tools were variious chisels of course. When asked how he sharpens, he replied,"When other guys are set up to sharpen, I'm done."
His system for the chisels was dirt simple. He used small spinning abrasive /sandapaer discs on a Dremel or Foredom machine. Magnification also helps.
Too bad this fast simple system couldn't be used on plane irons and jointer knives and such.
Don
Charles
Very good points. I like your line of thought on this even though you say you borrowed it.
sarge..jt
I agree with you Charles. For chisels and planes I keep an oil stone on the bench and can refresh an edge in seconds, literally. Planer and jointer blades are another thing. I am considering sending these out again after having tried th Makita sharpener. I just don't have the time to spend on this. Shop time is precious and I only get 4-6 hours /week. By the time I get the machine running and stuff sharpened, I've spend my time budget.
TDF
Gawd, Charles. Does this mean we are in agreement about something-- twice in a couple of weeks, or so. I'd better go and choke down a beer or three!
Frankly, I've never got any kind of grip on the 'scary sharp' method of doctoring tool edges. To me, pulling out a bit of sandpaper to sharpen a tool was always the last ditch stance against ignomious uselessness and bluntness. Whacking up a chisel or a plane edge on a dod of sandpaper was what you did if you'd left your sharpening stone at home by mistake. All that wrinkling up of the paper, the scuffing up of the edge itself, and laying the paper out on bits of glass, and the whole inconvenient mess has always seemed counterintuitive.
Where the whole daft method ever got credence from, I can't imagine-- we used to do that rubbish back in the '70's to get us out of a hole, and I stilluse it in times of need, and a half decent concrete step suffices too-- I learnt those old tricks from old cabinetmakers, that learnt it from old cabinetmakers, that---- ad infinitum, and ad nausem. There's far too much twaddle talked about 8,000 grit this, and 12,000 grit that. Just sharpen the darned thing and use it, instead of poncing about with grits for half an hour or so.
I seldom use anything more sophisticated than an 800 grit ceramic stone. I use the ceramic stone because my Japanese water stone broke in half, and I needed something new, and the ceramic thing was on offer at half price.
I expect the heavens to crash around my ears for my blasphemeous remarks, but I'll look forward to that over the next day or two, ha, ha. Slainte. Website The poster formerly known as Sgian Dubh.
A Lesson in Sharpening.
A perennial subject in woodworking magazines is that of sharpening techniques. No other furniture making subject seems to generate so many words, resulting in the publication of innumerable articles detailing ‘infallible’ or ‘sure fire’ methods of doing the job.
Naturally, the subject is of some interest because blunt tools aren't much use. The opening preamble to many of these articles often cause a wry smile for they bring back memories of my early training as a cabinetmaker. Many authors make valid points about those that struggle at it, and possess a workshop full of dull tools. Conversely, it is often said that those that can do the job tend to be fanatical about grits, slurries and bevel angles. My experience is that there are really only two types of people when it comes to sharpening.
1. Those that can’t.
2. Those that can.
In the first group, those that can't, you'll sometimes see every sharpening system known to man arrayed around their workshop gathering dust. They have oilstones, water stones, ceramic stones, diamond stones, guides, jigs, etc.. Every hand tool they own is chipped, dull and mostly useless.
In the second group, those that can, I haven’t observed much fanaticism about slurries, grits and bevel angles. In all the workshops I’ve worked in the only concern is to get the job done. It’s a case of, “Plane’s blunt, better sharpen it.” Dig out the stone, sharpen the blade, shove it back in the plane, and get on with it. The equipment is minimal. A grinder, a stone and lubricant, along with a few slips for gouges and the like.
Going back to the early seventies when I trained, learning how to sharpen tools was undertaken within the first few days. I don’t recall precisely the order of my instruction, but it went something like this. I was handed a plane by the cabinetmaker I was assigned to and told to, “Git that piece o’ wood square.” I didn’t know why, but I’d done a bit of woodworking at school, so I had a vague idea how to go about it. I fooled around with that piece of wood for twenty or thirty minutes, and got it something like. All this under the watchful eye of the crusty old guy and his ever present roll-up hanging out of the corner of his mouth.
“Okay, I’ve done that.” I said, “Now what do you want me to do?”
I was told to hang about for a minute whilst he picked up his square and straight edge and proceeded to scrutinise my handiwork, followed by a non-committal grunt and some desultory foot sweeping of the plentiful shavings on the floor. (The wood was probably only about eighty per cent of its original volume!)
“Now sonny, let’s do the next job,” he announced. “Pull that jack plane ye’ve bin usin’ apairt and let’s have a look at the iron.” I did.
“Hold the iron up so’s ye can see the cuttin' edge.” He instructed. (He was a Scot.) Again I did as I was told.
“Now, can ye see it? Can ye see the ‘line o’ light’ at the shairp end there?” he asked. He was referring to the shiny reflection visible on all blunt tools.
“Aye,” I said, after a little eye narrowing, and other pretence of intelligence.
“How shairp does it look to you boy?” he enquired.
I thought about this for a moment or two, seeking the right response to my tormentor, for I hadn't really got a clue of what he was talking about, and finally replied rather hopefully and a bit brightly, “Pretty shairp, I’d say.”
He laughed out loud, and hacked up his lungs a bit. “Dinnae be the daft bloody laddie with me son. If ye can see it, it’s blunt. I could ride that bloody iron bare-ersed to London and back and no cut ma’sel’. Git o’er here an’ I’ll show ye something.”
You can probably guess. Out came the oilstone from his toolbox, and quick as a flash the iron was whisking up and down the stone, flipped over, the wire edge removed, and finally stropped backwards and forwards on the palm of the hand. You could shave with it. I know, because he demonstrated how sharp it was by slicing a few hairs off his forearm. On went the cap iron and this little lot was popped back in the plane, followed by a bit of squinting along the sole from the front whilst the lever and knob were fiddled with and that was it. He took a few shavings off a piece of wood and it went back in his toolbox. It took, oh,…......a few minutes.
“Now son, that’s a shairp fuggin' plane. It’s nae bloody use to me blunt. Ye may as well sling a soddin’ blunt yin in the bucket fur'all the use it is to me, he explained with great refinement. “I’ve plenty mair o’ them in that box, an’ they’re all blunt. I know they are. Ah’ve bin savin ‘em for yuh. There’s a bunch a chisels too. Let’s get ye started.”
For what felt like forever I sharpened his tools--- for the one and only time--- and things gradually got better. After a while he stopped telling me what a "daft stupit bloody wee git," I was, and a bit later he started offering grudging approval. I had to sharpen some tools more than once because he kept on using and blunting them. When I’d done the lot we stopped and surveyed the days work.
“Aye, no too bad fer a daft laddie's fust effort,” he commented darkly, sucking extra hard on his smoke, “I think ye’ve goat the makin’s o’ a cabinetmaker. Time'll tell. Remember boy, yer nae a fuggin' cabinetmaker if ye cannae shairpen yer tools. Lesson over. Dinnae ferget it!” I haven't. Website The poster formerly known as Sgian Dubh.
I've seen the light and it is simplicity. I agree with virtually every word that you've said. Actually, I agree with you more often than you think, or I'm willing to admit.
And by the way, my bench is a tad out of flat and I'm not bothered one bit.
Being self-trained, I've strutted and fretted my way back to where I should have started in the first place. It's been a hell of an adventure.
Edited 4/9/2003 7:25:09 AM ET by CHASSTANFORD
"Being self-trained, I've strutted and fretted my way back to where I should have started in the first place."
Oh, God, just add "There's no place like home" and you'll be paraphrasing Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz!
Didn't mean to sound corny. In essence what I've done is shuck all the bullshi* and get back to basics. Or... I'm still in the process.
My comment was not intended to be critical. I believe you have reached a point many woodworkers wish they could reach - namely, a state of relative equilibrum and satisfaction, as compared to a constant state of wishing for that one additional tool or one additional piece of information (e.g., sandpaper or stones) that assures us we are finally headed in the right direction.
Thanks for that. I've been liquidating my tool inventory over the last year so I'm definitely not what somebody could call a tool junkie. I did buy a new mortise gauge the other day - another cheap one to replace a cheap one. Should have sprung for an Ulmia.
Ahhhh, the fevered sounds of people weighing the virtues of oilstones, waterstones and sandpaper on glass.
They will all produce results good enough to do the job, but I have found the combination of a 1200X diamond stone, followed by an 8000X gold stone will produce the much sought-after "mirror finish" that really impresses everyone. The diamond is rough enough to get the nicks out of even HHS blades and even the carbide faces on my 3 1/4" Makita planer blades. The goldstone does need care not to gouge the surface by digging an edge in. I might get a 400X/1200X combination diamond stone to dress those really badly chipped edges someday.
As a Christmas present to a sharpening-challenged friend, I gave him a honing guide, a piece of plate glass and some adhesive-backed 3M carbide paper. Why? Because dollar for dollar, it is the cheapest route. No need to soak the stone, true the stone, rub the Nagura stone on it to get the mud needed for the final polish. He won't need a diamond stone because the only HSS blades he has are in his 12" planer, and he sends those out. If he wanted to spend money the way I did, he can try a cheaper way first and learn how before spending money.
I did try an oilstone first, having one in the tools I inherited. It was OK, but not what I would call an exact method. The sandpaper method has less guess-work and the large sheet of tempered glass I have is large enough to have 4 half-sheets of various grits of paper stuck to it at once. By the way, the 0.5 micron (about 10000 grit I think) from 3M will give the mirror edge, but very slowly and only a narrow bit at the tip.
I was shown the waterstone method by a trusted friend, and now I swear by it. I even added a genuine natural Japanese waterstone from Lee Valley. It was one of the 'A' grade stones, 3" X 1 3/8" X 8". When I tried it, there seemed to be little going on. It was cutting and it produced very nice results on the two small plane blades in the guide. After I ug up the Nagura stone to lubricate it, the results were excellent. It took a minute to get a mirror surface very close to what using the goldstone would have done and it seems to wear more slowly as well.
Waterstones... sheesh, don't even get me started. Suffering from paranoia as I do, I don't believe I could stand wondering if it was flat, or when it was time to flatten it. How do you keep small chisels from digging in? Are you comfortable with, or can you take a waterstone to a drawknife? You have to have an alternative system for flattening the stones - either diamond stones, silicon carbide on glass, or sandpaper on glass.
They work, but they're definitely not for me.
Edited 4/10/2003 6:52:17 PM ET by CHASSTANFORD
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