Thursday, 6 July 2017

The modern Tortoise

I have really fallen in love with my M400 special edition brown tortoise. I find with my relatively small hands the 400 is a good size for me, though I marginally prefer the M600 - but this special edition had two things going for it.
  1. it's in brown tortoise, one of Pelikan's best known and (for me, anyway) most beautiful materials, and 
  2. it came with a broad italic nib.

Pelikan cut out a lot of its special nibs a few years back. No more BBs, no more OBBs or italics. Which is a real pity, and I suspect it may prove to be counterproductive, since the fountain pen fancy is becoming more and more focused on speciality nibs. (If Pelikan considered trying to make a modern flex nib, the massed hordes of Fountain Pen Network would beat a path to its door. And obviously, judging by the fact that Jowo is now making stock flex nibs for Edison, there's enough of a market to pin a business plan on.

But just for this one pen, Pelikan announced a broad italic option.

It's marvellous. The photo really doesn't do it justice. It writes super wet (making this quite an expensive pen to keep supplied with Iroshizuku ink: five pages and you're dunking it back in the bottle for a refill) and really broad, and has good line variation - though it's not a calligraphic italic, it's a cursive, and I find it can keep up with my need to take notes of phone interviews with no problems. Smooth, a little bit bouncy, and ... it squeaks. Now that is weird. But apart from the squeaking, it's rapidly become one of my favourite nibs.

I don't know how I'm going to explain this to my Rotring Artpens....

As for the tortoise; it's not perhaps my favourite tortoise in the entire Pelikan family. It's a trifle orangey rather than the deep browns or honey colours of vintage pens. But what I do love about it is the variance in the stripes - it's not a regular pinstripe, and the colours are not solid, but shot through with flakes and streaks of lighter and darker shades. No, you wouldn't mistake it for real tortoiseshell, but there is something about it that feels organic, and that has the gentle undulation of a natural form, like the wrinkles the sand makes when the tide goes out, or the gentle curves of a willow branch.

A note on Special editions

I rather like special editions. They're rather different from limited editions, which often strike me as rather self-indulgent and overpriced.

The idea of a special edition seems to be; we'll produce this pen for a certain period, and however many we can sell, we'll sell. And then we'll stop. And while the limited editions are often art works, such as raden or maki-e pens, the special editions are generally just a slightly different take on the regular serie and sell at a fairly slight premium to the regular pens.

However.... get 'em while they're there. Once they go off the market, prices can rise significantly - if what's happened to the m600 Pink is anything to go by. (I'm glad I got mine when I did.)

Thursday, 29 June 2017

Old dogs, new tricks

Leigh Reyes has a wonderful post on old nibs in new fountain pens. Of course we often call these little babies 'Frankenpens', and they'll never be collector pens - collectors want the original setup. But like Leigh, I prefer to see a good old pen salvaged.

And there's nothing new about nib-swapsies. Plenty of Gold Starrys, Onotos, Edacotos, Conway Stewarts turn up with anonymous 'warranted' nibs that must have been swapped over at some point, perhaps when the pen hit the floor nib-down or little Johnny decided to try to use the pen as an arrow in a Cowboys-and-Indians game.

Pens that don't get their nibs swapped? Parker 51s, because it's too darn difficult to get them apart. Parker 65s and 75s, because no other nibs will fit. But I've seen older Duofolds with all kinds of nibs, so it's clearly not associated with the brand - it's purely and simply about the ease with which the nibs can be exchanged.

I always head for the junker trays at pen shows. I've managed to save some very distressed individuals indeed - and where pens really can't be saved, you can still find a great nib to transfer to another pen.

Meanwhile, Leigh's pictures are just gorgeous - marvellous nibs! beautiful pens! and a bit of good advice on the practicalities of swapping nibs.

Monday, 26 June 2017

Big game Safari - hunting pens in the wild, so far this year

Last year wasn't a great hunting year. I didn't find much, and some of the usual waterholes seemed to have dried up.

This year started with a bang. The first sale I went to, one exhibitor had a couple of nice Rotring pens on his stand. And while I was paying for them, I saw a couple of Parker boxes... and I left with one of the best hauls I've had in ages, and for not a whole lot of money.
A nice haul
So here we have; a lot of nice Rotrings - piston filling. Neatly, the piston mechanism is made in red plastic to form the red ring ('rot ring' in German), and I particularly like the way the pens have the size in white letters around the barrel, as well as on the cap, so that however you keep your pens you can quickly see which one is which. These pens tick all the boxes for me that the Lamy 2000 does - they're functional, they're beautifully designed to be functional, there are no bells and whistles, every bit of the design does its job and does it well. And as a bonus, if you don't like the stylographic nib, you can replace it with an Esterbrook Reform nib and feed (I've done that on two of mine).

Then on the left, from the top: a mismatched Waterman glass cartridge pen, gold nib; not sure what the next one is; Waterman Laureat; Waterman gold nib pen in thuya lacquer; Parker mixy (I think these were only ever made in France), Waterman hemisphere; Parker 35 (I think -  very similar to the 75) in thuya lacquer, and a little mechanical pencil in celluloid.

Even better, I now have a friend - last time I bumped into the seller, he actually gave me something I'd been looking at and refused to let me pay for it!

That weekend left me feeling this could be my year... I was quickly disappointed. The next two months had other rewards but in terms of fountain pens, just a couple of common Waterman Kulturs and one nice but anonymous red mottled hard rubber pen. Where is that Waterman Man Patrician I'm looking for? Where is the Waterman 20? What about the tarnished Aztec in a tray of Jotters? Why are the miracles not happening?

Okay... Saturday, I had a rehearsal for a concert I'm playing next week. Drove there, and decided we'd take the scenic route home, along the river valley, through little villages and woods, instead of along the main route through the wheat fields. It was cooler, if slower. There are some water mills along the route - one still working, one derelict (I keep dreaming about buying it), and one that has been turned into an antique centre, so of course I had to stop.

Nothing in the glass cases. I was about to give up when my eye fell on a pen stand with four dip pens on it.

On my safaris I see lots of rubbishy dip pens - cheap plastic ballpoints. So I prepared to be disappointed. But these weren't ballpoints. They had nibs. On closer inspection, they also had the 'Aurora' stamp in its little shield. Picked up - gosh. They're ebonite - at least, the sections are, I'm pretty sure. Into the bag they went at ten euros each, which for four pens, three gold nibs and one broken nib, ain't at all bad.

Four lovely Auroras. Globus nibs. And one of them is also a Rotring... at least in spirit

And then yesterday, we went off to a number of sales, and suddenly Lady Fountain-Pen Luck was with me. It started with a blue Waterman Kultur, a nice pen - one of my favourite models, though this is a common one. Still at fifty cents, I'm happy! Then a nice purple moire Reynolds box, though the pen inside it wasn't the one that came with it - an 'AA' cart filler. Came with a free bottle of Waterman Blue ink as a present.

The next to appear was a Reform. At first, I thought it was a Creeks - rather cheap French pens that crop up fairly regularly. But the clip is different, and it's quite a nice little pen, from a German brand that I have some respect for - the Reform 1745 was the first piston filler I ever owned. It's in a swirly green plastic - I thought it might be printed, but when I opened it up, I can see the pattern runs all the way through.

Oh look! a big bucket of pens! They're almost all sure to be felt pens or ballpoints, but ... a good handful of Pilot V-Pens at ten cents each? How could I resist!

Wallet empty. Heart full. Yesterday's haul
So far, cheap but interesting pens. Next came a little oddity; a lovely dip pen stand with a gorgeous crystal ink well. Green marble, bronze, and crystal - and in the shape of a heart. Just gorgeous. I don't really collect pen stands but I had to have this one.

And then a stand that had ink. A huge bottle of Waterman Red which I decided I didn't really need and rather wish I had bought. A packet of Waterman glass carts which will come in useful, though the ink in them has gone to powder. (Maybe I can revive it with water.) And a lot of dip pens... but no fountain pens at all. What a pity.

Oh look. There's a little pen case on the same table. I don't suppose there's anything in it. Oh, there is. Probably rubbish pens - Marksman, Daniel Hechter, ballpoints. Let's take a .... oh. Parkers. Lacquer. Okay, let's ask... how much? well, that's a bargain, let's snap it up!

Turns out to be Parker 75s, fine nib fountain pen and matching mechanical pencils. That's a great set for me, as I don't really use ballpoints at all but I do use pencils. Absolutely stunning condition - the pen's a bit dirty but just needs a flush, and the pencil has lead in it still.

Two stands on, I see what I think is a Parker 45 and it turns out to be a second generation Pelikano. Metal cap with a 'Pelikan beak' clip, dark blue ink window, nice.

The day would have a couple of surprises still in store. We went to one last sale which for the past couple of years has had marvellous things in store. This time; nothing at all, except a Waterman Gentleman cigar box, which unfortunately I forgot to photograph (and was too expensive). Inside, a cartoon of two gents in their riding coats, one with his pen and the other with his cigar. I must definitely look up this byway of Waterman history!

Disheartened, I knew it was time to head home. Some of the stallholders were packing up. But there's a little antique shop near where we parked, and it was still open. No pens, but there was a nice lacquer pen box... of course, as a great game hunter, I know that you have to look inside.

And there was my last pen of the day, one of my favourites - a Bayard Excelsior in marbled celluloid. That's the bottom one on the left in the picture, with the characteristic chevrons on the clip and lever. It's just gone to the top of my repair queue.

Okay, I still haven't found the red Man Patrician. But I really have got a lovely little haul and had some fun along the way.

Monday, 6 March 2017

A few repairs

I always have pens waiting for repairs. Since I do a lot of 'pen safari in the wild' at car boot sales and junk shops, it's only to be expected. Occasionally I get down to a day's work on a whole batch, and I have just got ten pens nicely polished up. Four of them need a bit of work on the nibs, but the others are good to go. (Interestingly, all three Waterman pens with their original nibs write beautifully, despite the fact that two of the nibs were horribly bent and had to be carefully tweaked back to shape and burnished.)

Several of these pens are still missing their clips. I'm not too bothered. They fill with ink, and they write, and the celluloid is beautifully polished. That'll do.

The first batch;
  • Waterman 92V. This lovely little pen is the star of the lot; a really flexy wet nib and the most amazingly rich red celluloid. It goes with the pencil I bought for seven euros at Nogent-le-Roi vide grenier, though this is such a cute baby pen that the pencil seems a giant next to it.
  • Unnamed cracked pearl button filler, with a Mallat steel nib. A very sweet pen with a crisp fine nib. I love these 'pearl' celluloids so I'm happy to have such a good example.
  • Waterman 32 1/2, an incredibly thin pen in green - I had difficulty finding a sac thin enough to put in the pen!
  • Waterman 32 in mahogany, which again amazed me with a medium flexy nib. This one's a keeper!
  • Conway Stewart with Duro nib in black cracked pearl, but with a mismatched cap. I was a bit disappointed with the nib - it's a huge bit of precious metal, but it's not particularly pleasant to use, and writes rather dry on a dip test. Things may be better once I load the pen up with ink. On the other hand, the material is simply gorgeous. One day I hope to find the cap... then again, a big CS for eight quid is a steal.

The second batch begins with two no-names:
  • a stripy steel-nibbed pen which I have nicknamed 'sexy pyjamas' - the nib's still a bit scratchy so it will get a few swipes of micromesh.
  • a tiny snakeskin pen - a bit of a cheapie, but with lovely material and a super flexy nib that needs a bit of smoothing.
  •  'The Lincoln Pen' in Lincoln Green, with a cute flower and foliage motif on the clip. A nice lurid oversize, but the nib needs to be adjusted as the tines meet at the end, and the feed needs heat setting.
  • Parker Duofold Junior in jade. The barrel is pretty browned off, unfortunately, and it has a warranted nib that's a bit scratchy. A user pen, but a nice pen all the same.
  • A Valentine, in a browny-golden-greeny candystripe pattern. It has lost its clip, and the nib will have to be stubbed as one of the tines is broken at the tip.
Next to them is a wooden pen I rescued - every single part of it was broken when I acquired it for a single euro. Epoxy, patience and micromesh have got it working, though it will never look a hundred percent and the cap is not guaranteed to clip securely.

Of course, the delicate floral motif on the clip would be exactly where the light decides to glare, wouldn't it? A lovely display of celluloid, none the less.

What did I learn with this batch?
  • Patience is the key to success. Particularly when you're warming the barrels to remove the sections - and also when putting the sections back again - you can't afford to hurry. If I feel myself getting stressed, or if it's getting towards the end of the day and I'm getting careless, I stop. It's not worth ruining a pen. 
  • I've still got another ten pens that just won't come apart. I keep trying. Three of them did actually move this evening so they'll be my next repair batch now they're in pieces. The others will just get another ten minutes each every day till they decide to move.
  • Almost every pen has taken a lot longer to finish than I thought it would. Getting the section out. In some cases, knocking out the nib and repairing it. Chipping out ossified sacs, cleaning up rusty j-bars, cleaning up the nipple. Finding the right sac and shellacking it on is the easy bit. Then polishing up, if required, and cleaning the inside of the cap, and the threads, and finally testing the nib - and I've still got all the nib work to do.
  • A good parts box is useful. I had to replace one nib and a feed. I always look in the corners and at the bottom of pen boxes at sales to see if there are loose caps, nibs and feeds, and broken bits which might come in useful.
  • There is greater rejoicing in heaven over one perfect flexy Waterman nib in a pretty pen than any number of restored Esties or Parker 51s. 
  • And I lo-o-o-o-ve pretty celluloids.

Sunday, 5 March 2017

Fountain pens get Wired!

I was intrigued to see that trending tech mag Wired has now decided fountain pens are a Thing.

Comparing the Lamy Vista and Delta Serena is a bit of a cheat. There's no Delta Serena fan club - there very definitely is a Lamy Safari/Vista/Alstar fan base, and even if you don't like the Lamy, there's no doubt that like its more expensive sibling the Lamy 2000, the Safari is a design classic.

But the other points Richard Baguley makes are good ones. I think quite a lot of FP users would agree that the price point around £100 and just over is where you'll find some excellent value - Platinum 3776, Edison Collier, Lamy 2000. Although there are plenty of great cheapies (and I've featured some of them here), pens at this level make a huge step up.

He also points out that the fountain pen needs a bit of expertise to use. Moving from a ballpoint to a fountain pen is like moving from Microsoft to Linux - to adopt an analogy that will be familiar to Wired readers. There's a bit of work to do to adapt - but once you have made the move, a fountain pen offers so much more flexibility.

Now - go read the article!

Thursday, 16 February 2017

In praise of button fillers

I'm just resacking some vintage pens. Some lovely Watermans, a Valentine, a Parker, and a couple of neat Italian celluloids.

One of the things I hate is when you get a sac that's gone gooey or just plain hard, so that instead of getting it to fall out either in one neat piece of ossified rubber, or in tiny dust granules, you end up having to scrape the nastiness out of the barrel.

It's nastiest in a lever filler, particularly one fitted with an integral lever bar. You can't see what you're doing.

In a button filler, you can pop out the filling button, and hey presto! there's light coming through, so you can see what's going on and most importantly, easily see if the barrel is clear.

That's not the only advantage of button fillers. I far prefer filling with them as you are pushing perpendicularly, whereas with a lever filler, you're pushing to the side of the pen and it always seems to result in the pen wobbling in the inkpot. Maybe I'm just a bit clumsy but I don't really love the lever (which makes my love of early Watermans rather problematic).

No mechanical bits to go wrong. Piston fillers are a dream, until the piston shaft breaks or corrodes or the piston housing won't fit back into the barrel properly.
No cork seals to mess around with. I still love my piston fillers, and nothing will ever replace the delight of seeing the ink slowly fill the barrel with a translucent Pelikan or a demo pisto filler, but button fillers are much easier to repair.

And... 90% of celluloid Parkers are button fillers. (Only the cheap Parkette range used levers, as far as I know, which shows you Parker management must have shared my feelings about lever fillers.)

Thursday, 12 January 2017

A new dip pen

I've finished the first of my new, arthritis-friendly dip pens. It took a while, and the design evolved as I carved, but I've ended up with a pen that feels nice in the hand and is super comfortable to use.

I started with a bit of wood that I saved from the firewood pile. I used a drawknife to take off the bark and carve the rough outline. At that point I looked at the end and realised I had a lovely fishtail shape at one end if I wanted to use it, so the design changed a bit. The curve at the grip end and on the 'tail' were put in with a spokeshave and an Opinel pocket knife (rescued from a car boot for a euro, reground completely and now my favourite carving knife). I also drilled the hole for the nib holder with a 1/4" drill before carving any closer.

At this point I tried the pen and it was way too heavy. When I held it to write, it was pulling against me because it was top-heavy. I did a bit of thinking, and then decided to do two things;
  1. I sliced off half of the top part of the pen, from where it rests on the web between thumb and first finger all the way to the top,
  2. and then I drilled a hole in the middle and carved out a bit of the 'barrel' with my gouges to lighten the weight a little more.

A dip pen can dream...
I finished the pen by sanding to 400 grit, and then oiling with linseed oil. The inside part was stained darker by first painting on very strong tea, and letting it dry, then using vinegar in which rusted iron had been soaked to get a rich dark brown colour.

I've enjoyed using it. The balance is good, and the fat barrel lets my hand give it more support so that I don't have to grip hard with the fingers. The concave curve of the section together with a relatively fat girth at that point make it very secure in the hand, too.


The fat end of the section means I have to write with the pen rather more erect than I normally would - nearer 60 degrees than 45 degrees to the paper.

Dimensions: narrowest part of grip, 14mm: widest part of barrel, 28mm: length, 190mm.