Tag Archives: restaining a bowl and rim

A Challenging Restoration of a Tsuge Second Small Billiard

Guest Blog by Robert M. Boughton
Member, International Society of Codgers
Member, North American Society of Pipe Collectors
http://www.naspc.org
http://www.roadrunnerpipesnm.biz
http://about.me/boughtonrobert
Photos © the Author

“You will never learn enough looking for only the good things in life; you will always be a pupil.”
― Japanese proverb
“Ay, now the plot thickens very much upon us.”
― Bayes, a playwright within the play “The Rehearsal” (1671), a satirical mockery of heroic plays, by Sir George Villiers (1628-1687), 2nd duke of Buckingham, de facto King of England during the end and the beginning of two rightful monarchs, debaucher, poet, playwright

INTRODUCTION
This Esterd silver banded small billiard with a bone bit that screws onto a metal shank insert was another inexplicable find on eBay. The seller had listed it as a vintage hand-carved pipe with a silver band and horn bit, and believed it might have been made in the Philippines. The starting bid was $9.99, with nobody biting. Tempted to enter the fray based only on the elegant design – intricate, carved images of an old, Oriental-style house or palace on the left side, mountains on the front, another landscape of some sort on the right with four tiny marks that could be a language, and two reversed images on the back, maybe symbolic – I exercised control over my index finger that likes to click the Place Bid Now button on its own and opened a new window to browse to pipephil.eu.

Pipephil is good, but it doesn’t list every brand. Although Esterd is but one of thousands of names of which I have never heard, I was prepared not to find a match. Nevertheless, there it was: Esterd, Tsuge second. Here’s where the inexplicable, if not outright spooky, aspect of the find comes in. I reviewed one of the Tsuge non-aromatic lines of pipe tobaccos not long ago on the Smokers Forums UK. Tsuge Pipe Company of Japan, having ultimate control over its tobaccos, nixed milder, less flavorful versions of the blends that are made by “Drew Estate, Tsuge and Daughters & Ryan in North Carolina…[e]xclusively for Tsuge.” The operative name in the list is D&R, and it was Mark Ryan’s blend that was approved by Tsuge.

Looking into the tobacco brand, I discovered the existence of the Tsuge Pipe Company, founded in Japan in 1936 after a grueling 25-year apprenticeship in pipe crafting by Kyoichiro Tsuge. The company makes very fine, hand-crafted pipes of various designs and using different materials. Some of them are priced in what I consider the middle range ($200-$300), but many excellent examples of the craftsmanship that goes into their construction are on the end that is more affordable to most of us. Tsuge, translated to English, means box tree or boxwood, and is also the name of an old Samurai family from which the father of Kyoichiro was descended.

Of course, I returned to eBay, where I had no further qualms bidding for the wonderful pipe at such a low price. At the time, two days remained for bidding, but no one else seems to have gotten past the seller’s unfortunate description of the pipe’s construction and origin with a simple Google search for the brand. As a result, I won it for $14 with S&H.

I was aware of the evil crack on the bottom of the bit, but figured I had nothing to lose at that price. I expected to list it on my site for $100 after restoring and fixing the crack that my friend and mentor, Chuck Richards, assured me could be repaired with an unusual process that would leave the bit looking like new. Instead, I made my first ever sale of a pipe before I restored it, to a friend in my pipe club who held the Esterd in his hands with an unmistakable flush of longing on his face, in particular the eyes that were fixed on the delicate beauty. Ah, how well I know that look!

Familiar with the deserved reputation of Tsuge pipes, my friend, Stephen, said he has always wanted one but never found any he could afford. He asked in a somewhat faltering voice how much I would sell it for. Teasing him, perhaps with a bit too little shame, I mentioned the anticipated list price, and watching his eyes saw I could get that much from him. But Chuck’s unparalleled generosity in offering his restored pipes at fantastic deals rubbed off on me, and I told Stephen he could have the work of art (I didn’t put it that way) for $50. He was so surprised that he looked to his wife, Ashley (of course), for approval. She just said, “You have the card, don’t you?” Stephen reached in his pocket to get it, amazing me with his clear intention to buy it right there. [Ashley, by the way, was in my first blog on Reborn Pipes, about a unique Chinese churchwarden that I found in a – ahem – head shop. When the cheap bit broke as I was savoring the great taste of my first chamber-full in it, I was not yet aware I could buy a replacement bit and instead chose a replacement for the pipe, which in fact was cheaper, anyway. But that bit broke also, leading to a friendly competition between Chuck and me, although there was little doubt his restore of one for me would be better than mine, which I gave to Ashley.]

I reminded Stephen it still needed a light cleaning and serious restoration, but he wanted to make sure it would go to him when it was ready and insisted on paying up front. And so I reached for my cell phone, which I had left at home since it is not working, and then attempted to find a way to download the PayPal Here app onto my laptop. This endeavor failed. Therefore, I went to my website editor and listed the pipe so that he could purchase it online. I encountered yet another obstacle when I found that my store, set up to accept PayPal, for some reason only allowed members to use it, unlike my previous site which permitted guests to use the service. Stephen drew the line at having to sign up for PayPal.

Therefore, the transaction was not finalized until two days later, last Saturday, after I copied and pasted the necessary HTML code into my site’s store page and got ahold of Stephen using my friendly neighbor’s cell phone. I would not have been so eager had I not needed the money to buy the key material in Chuck’s instructions to make the bit like new, not to mention less important things like food and gas. I told Stephen to let me know by email if he had any problems navigating the PayPal system to the newly-added guest mode, but before I read his reply saw that the payment had gone through on PayPal. In his email, Stephen told me not to rush the restore for him. I replied that my desire to start it right away was for my own eagerness to see Chuck’s promise of excellent results come true. This blog, therefore, will show the real-time steps I need to take to prepare the lovely Tsuge second to a condition worthy of handing over to its buyer.

RESTORATION

SATURDAY

I place an order on eBay for the uncommon special something I will need for the completion of this task I am about to begin. The much anticipated package is due to arrive, via First Class Mail, in several days if I’m lucky and literally God knows when if the USPS conducts business as usual. Therefore, I await it with all of the patience and faith I have, and open my photo files to the Esterd folder, where I find the original shots of it I took at my favorite tobacconist when it came in the mail, far faster than usual with Priority Mail 1-Day Delivery.

Clearly, as shown by the presence of tobacco in the chamber in the third photo above, the Esterd was so clean upon arrival that I was forced to sample some good tobacco in it – and then, amazed by the mellowness and great flavor of the one tobacco, I had to test it with another. Both tries get the highest rating I can give any pipe.

As the bit is the only difficult part of this restore, I start with it. Chuck has already talked me through the peculiar process for fixing the bit, telling me to soak it in a solution first to clean it, inside and out. Knowing he has his own formula, I asked if the OxiClean I use would be okay. He said that would be fine but emphasized that the entire pipe had to be thoroughly clean before the bit repair could begin. I remove the bit from the OxiClean after a long bath, rinse and wipe it dry, run a bristly cleaner through the air hole and let it dry more. The next step is to use an old toothbrush on the crack. I am uncertain how to go about this, but I give it the old college try, deciding on two toothbrushes, one firmer than the other, and also to employ a very fine fingernail file from an old, unused package of every kind of device for nail care. I throw in a 12000 micromesh pad as an afterthought. After alternating between both brushes, trying from every direction to work the little pieces into the big crack on the bottom of the bit and where they extend to the open end, I begin to be able to see all the way through the wider part of the crack. I use the fingernail brush on the more difficult dental chatter on the lip and below it – as well as to remove as much of the nice patina that has developed considering the ultimate mystery step I will need to take to put the final touch on this project – and then clear the fine dust from the soft bone with a toothbrush again. I finish this step with the micromesh to make the entire surface ultra-smooth again. By George, the old fart was right! Instead of proceeding to the next of Chuck’s stated steps with the bit, I switch to the easy stummel cleaning and preparation. I wipe a miniscule amount of dirt from the outside of the briar with a couple of soft, white, cotton gun cleaner cloths and purified water. Next I use a tiny piece of superfine steel wool on the rim, which has minor scratches, and the full range of micromesh pads on the entire wooden surface. Finally, I clean the chamber with 320- and 500-grit paper and remove the excess carbon with alcohol-soaked cotton cloths.

The retort of this pipe is going to be very difficult as I cannot, under and circumstances, run Everclear through the bit, as usual, and I possess no other that will connect to the unique threaded shank connector. I must do something. But what? Aha! My synapses snap, and I devise a scheme to make a try at it without a bit at all – filling the test tube with Everclear, plugging it with the rubber tube, and then placing the small open end of the tube over the metal shank connector just-so. I set everything down for a moment to get my big cotton cloth and wrap a corner of it over the rubber tube-covered shank connector. Pinching it as tightly as I can with three fingers, no matter how hard I try (and believe me I did my darndest), I can’t manipulate a fourth finger to hold the final side of the tube, under the cloth, shut. Go ahead and try it. Oh, well, I’m not about to give up now. Never surrender!

In this bizarre fashion, I flick my Bic with my free hand and light the flame of a small candle. With both hands occupied beyond their design, I hold the rounded end of the test tube above the flame, having to contort still more to balance the side of my left arm against the small table in order to stop the shaking of the Pyrex tube that keeps almost snuffing out the flame. At last I have it under full control. If anyone believes that, as George Strait sings it, I’ve got some ocean front property in Arizona for sale. Honestly, I’m reminded of certain scenes from “Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas,” with Johnny Depp as the late great though drug and alcohol synergized Hunter S. Thompson, and, I am forced to admit, a memorable scene or two from the 1931 classic “Frankenstein,” with Colin Clive as the unstable doctor and of course Boris Karloff as his Monster.

My only regret is that I have but two hands to give to this effort at snapping a shot of the spectacular scene! In my fervor to record the feat, I even consider asking my good neighbor with the cell phone to come in and catch the unprecedented event with my Nikon – but it is a bit late, and he might not appreciate the request, not to mention what he should think of me if he catches sight of what I am doing in my living room.

Thus, two test tubes full of Everclear later, the rag somewhat wet with alcohol that didn’t reach its destination, the ordeal of the Retort of the Esterd is behind me, and the stummel is clean. Yes, there are still times in life when even I am flabbergasted by my ruthless determination to do something. I have not sold a briar pipe un-retorted since I learned my lesson on that score the hard way some time ago, and I’ll be tarred and feathered and run out of town on a rail if I ever will. I rest my case on this point with the above photo.

I seem to recall writing something earlier about the easy clean-up of the stummel. Perhaps I was mistaken a tad.

Now, I can sleep.

SUNDAY

Regarding the dainty stummel, deftly crafted by loving hands unknown years ago, I see that the carved areas are all faded. I’ve been mulling over what I thought might turn into an option between re-staining or not and now know I’ll have to do the former, but what color? I dismiss Lincoln burgundy as too dark almost before the thought occurs to me, and consider lighter or darker brown. Mentally flipping a coin, I choose the darker, Lincoln Medium Brown, and apply a coat, brushing it with special attention into the tiny grooves of the carving. I flame it straight away, enjoying the puff of blue flame that envelops the stummel and dissipates, fixing the color into the wood and leaving only a light, even coat of char behind. I set it aside to cool. A few minutes have passed. I choose 8000 and 12000 micromesh for the gentle removal of the char and use first the lower number, then the higher. Still, the color is too dark. I take out the 3200 pad and rub the smooth surface of the stummel, which lightens nicely, and for the artwork use another small piece of superfine steel wool, first over the raised areas and then focusing with necessarily more pressure into the difficult grooves. It’s amazing how many there are in this testimonial to the mastery Japanese artists have over such detailed work.

I must have put away the steel wool for the photos above, but trust me, I didn’t make the carved parts of the stummel so light without it. It is time to coat the briar with a small finger of Halcyon II wax and set it aside awhile to dry. When the Halcyon II has set into the smooth and carved areas of this excellent small billiard (it measures 4¾” in length with a chamber diameter of ⅝” x 1”), I buff it by hand with a clean cotton rag and set it aside, with the utmost care, where the cats will not disturb it. I will wait until later to photograph the finished pipe as a whole. I have completed the stummel and now have only the bit to restore to vibrant life.

Only the bit! Again I have reached a critical stage of this wholly strange process that hinges on the successful “removal,” or more aptly, mending and covering of the creeping cracks in the shank. I freely confess my justified fear of blowing this all-important feature of the restoration. After all, it is the only real challenge I face with the Esterd, and if I botch it, I will have to reverse the next step and try again, a prospect I do not at all relish. Ultimate failure is not possible, I know, because I will do it as many times as it takes to get it right.

I take a break. After a moment’s thought I choose, with a weird and flippant flair I do not begin to feel in my stomach, the GBD Prestige Apple, which caused so much heartache and twisting difficulty in my previous, dubious trip through the sometimes treacherous and bewitched path of pipe restoring. I decided to keep the GBD as much as a reminder of my mistakes as anything else. I savor some Gawith Bracken Flake, an intact tin of which I bought about two years ago and put in my cellar after rehydrating and trying two tins that were popped open at my occasional secondary tobacconist here, and which the young son of the owner, the heir to the family operation, had the business acumen to give to me. At my preferred tobacco shop, I like to refer to the competition as “the Tobacconist that Must Not Be Named” when it needs to be mentioned at all.

Not impressed with the first two tins that rehydrated well enough but still had something missing, like Frankenstein’s Monster reanimated, I have many times almost donated the last tin to my pipe club for the monthly raffle. Something stayed the urge, and when I at last popped the tin open and uncovered the moist, rich, dark brown Kentucky burley and Virginia flakes, the flecks of crystallized white sugar suggested it was packaged well before I bought it two years ago. This break, it appears, is a desperate attempt to chill out, as my generation calls the often difficult discipline of relaxing.

Nevertheless, the magic that is the essence of pipe enjoyment begins to pervade my body and mind as the rich flavor and pleasant wreaths of smoke envelop me. My mind drifts to the meaning of bracken. In terms of the tobacco in my GBD, it is a reference, not to the wild ferns that grow freely in some places of the world, but to the “shade of brown resembling the colour of turning brown; a warm orangey-brown.” (I like the repetition there and have looked it up in the OED to be sure.)

Okay, then. With that thought, I am heartened to return to the bit. I should get on with the next and cardinal phase of the Esterd restoration. I collect the tools I will need. Indeed, the plot thickens, so to say. Here is the first true step in repairing the pipe: applying regular, clear Super Glue into the large crack on the bottom of the bit and over the smaller one on the top that is just forming, as well as both of their beginnings on the open end of the bit. Although the task may sound easy, it is not. Aware of the risk of smearing the quick-drying stuff where it is not needed – beyond the lines of the cracks – and the equal need to avoid, above all, allowing the glue to seep inside the threaded opening, I did procrastinate the unavoidable step as long as I could.

And so, facing the music – another interesting phrase probably originating from the centuries old practice of disgraced officers being drummed out of their regiments – I approach my duty with the soldier’s wise combination of trepidation and exhilaration. I choose the single weapon that seems best suited for the battle, a short wooden fingernail care pick with one pointed end and the other chisel-edged. I feel somewhat as a young boy with a tiny toy quarterstaff harkening back to medieval England.

First addressing the primary targeted weakness of the bit, the long crack in its armor, using the pointed end of my pick tipped with a small squeeze of the Super Glue, I lay down a line of the sticky stuff, following as closely as I can the uneven course of the wound. Then, spinning the pick around to its dry, chisel-edged side, I poke it deftly into the widest part of the gap at the open end of the bit and scrape the excess glue from the sides of the fissure and running down into the still-sealed but breaching length to halt any future attack from that end. I survey the inner bit, focusing on the corresponding fault along the threads, and note that light no longer shows through, but it is still not sealed.

Daring not to venture inside the bit, I opt for a compromise, adding more glue to the pointed edge of the pick and capping off both short lines on the round end of its entrance. Returning to the front line, I repeat the same process as before, and in checking the interior of the bit am gratified by the apparent victory within sight. The glue has crept all the way to the inside boundary of the threads and halted, already firming up against any future onslaught by the enemy.

I turn the bit top up to coat the short, closed line of early crack formation there with a preemptive strike against further growth. The Super Glue seal is almost imperceptible in the photos below, but it is looking strong to my eyes. Now begins the two-day siege as I must wait and see if my blows to the enemy fortify and take hold.

TUESDAY

The clear instructions from Chuck, my warlord, were to retreat and wait a full 48 hours after the Super Glue assault before returning to the scene of the battle. I followed his orders to the letter and briefed him on the situation earlier tonight at his HQ. He reaffirmed the last step I must take before the final death blow, the ammunition for which still has not arrived in the mail. This time, however, when I mention making the bit pure white, Chuck added, “You do the best you can.” Ignoring this modifier at the moment, I return home and with stealth take the bit in hand to gloat over the impending unconditional victory.

In final preparation for the extreme but morally justified coup de grâce I hope to deliver tomorrow, should the required reinforcement arrive by then, I clean up the battlefield, again using the very fine fingernail smoother to remove the minimal amount of Super Glue that has dried and hardened on the top and bottom of the bit, over and surrounding the sealed cracks.

For the last, uncertain time, I can only await the arrival of the final weapon. War, indeed, is not Hell, but Purgatory.

THURSDAY – 4:30 p.m.

The state of the USPS being as it is, the package I have awaited, I see online by checking the Tracking Number, has arrived this day. I pick it up and make a pit stop at my tobacconist. The special weapon: white jeweler’s rouge, which Chuck tells me – and I confirm online, not with unbecoming doubt of my mentor’s knowledge but so that I can cite a second authority in my table of Sources below – is vital because of its lack of oils used in regular pipe waxes. Oil-based waxes will not hold to the surface of the bone, and thus, with my anxious hope, render the bit pure white again and remove any appearances of cracks. We shall soon see, together.

8:00 p.m.

Vancouver, there’s been a problem here. I have turned on my electric buffer with the so-called “clean wheel” and applied enough of the jeweler’s rouge to make it nice and white. This is not what Chuck told me to do. Aware of my barely adequate set-up, he said gently, “You will probably want to clean one of your buffers if not get a new one entirely before you put the rouge on.”

I have already admitted that is not what I did and prefer not to dwell on it. Needless to say, when I buff the bit, the jeweler’s rouge does the best it can by bringing most of the bone to an intense white shine. But despite my frantic attempts – extending to using every angle and side of the buffer, turning the small bit lengthwise and doing the same (in the process almost burning my fingers on the high-speed cloth), and even going so far as to rub the block of rouge by hand directly to the bit and then pressing it in with a cotton cloth – of course I am unable to cover the Super Glued and micro-meshed seals of the cracks completely.

This, I confess to myself, is what I deserve for trying to do something my own way. And so I am forced, almost at the point of kicking and screaming, to delay this paramount stage of my progress at least another day as I give the “clean buffer” a soak in hot water before removing it, squeezing out as much of the wetness as I can and placing it near the bottom of the single gas heater in my living room.

FRIDAY

The buffer, amazingly enough, is clean and dry by late morning. With baited breath I return to my office/workshop proper and reattach the cloth to the machine. I plug it in again, having taken the prudent precaution of disconnecting the electrical source lest some crazy but in my experience still possible freak accident occur. I am not willing to risk losing part of a finger or worse for this or any other pipe.

Taking another of many deep breaths in this project and exhaling, I push the switch that restores life to the machine and apply the white jeweler’s rouge to the cloth spinning in a blur on the wheel. With confidence, I first pick up the little stummel to polish the silver band still more, as I noticed in the description of the polishing compound its usefulness in working on metals as well. This task ends well with a lustrous band.

Now the ultimate moment of truth has arrived. I put the elegant and fragile piece of bone to the buffer once more, aspiring for the best results but emotionally prepared for a lesser return on my attempts.

My late roommate, who possessed an unwavering confidence in the supernatural that I truly admired, would have blamed the ensuing conclusion on my incomplete conviction. I want to believe, as Mulder’s poster on “The X-Files” reads, but it is not enough. The bone bit, though strengthened by my meticulous best efforts to make it so, is indeed structurally sound again and burnished. Nevertheless, the cracks still show. The harshest analysis reveals the bit’s integrity, but the ensured durability is still betrayed by faint traces of its incorrigible flaws.

CONCLUSION
I am disappointed, to say the least, with the less than perfect closure of this arduous restoration, but I take solace from the Japanese tradition in artwork, which they call Wabi-Sabi, to leave one flaw in any endeavor. The Buddhist author, Taro Gold, describes it as “the appreciation of the value and beauty of imperfection.” Okay, so my work shows more than one flaw. No doubt the Japanese would do better. This is not Chuck’s fault. Maybe he could make it right, also, but I am at peace.

A distant part of my brain assumes someone, surely, must have expressed the same thought I wrote at the close of Tuesday, about war not being Hell but Purgatory. I Google the words and find I am correct. Drat! Keith Staskiewicz of “Entertainment Weekly,” reviewing Kevin Powers’ Iraq War novel, “The Yellow Birds,” wrote: “Powers effectively shows how, for these soldiers, war isn’t hell. It’s purgatory.” So he didn’t capitalize hell and purgatory and put a period in between. Ah, well! All’s fair in love and war. I’ll have to read that book. Or maybe I’ll see the movie, due out this year.

SOURCES
http://www.slate.com/blogs/browbeat/2014/03/12/_the_plot_thickens_the_phrase_s_etymology_and_origin_at_the_request_of_grand.html
http://www.enotes.com/topics/george-second-duke-buckingham-villiers
http://www.pipephil.eu/logos/en/logo-e4.html Esterd
https://translate.google.com/translate?hl=en&sl=ja&tl=en&u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.tsugepipe.co.jp%2F Tsuge Pipe Co.
http://www.ebay.com/itm/RARE-Collectible-Vintage-TSUGE-Signed-Carved-DRAGON-Tobacco-Pipe-/351638968227?hash=item51df50d7a3:g:lOIAAOSw4HVWEv6T Tsuge Dragon Gold Band Bent Billiard
https://www.smokingpipes.com/pipes/new/tsuge/ Tsuge Pipes
https://avaiaartisticjewelry.wordpress.com/2011/08/07/how-to-care-for-organic-bone-jewelry/ Polishing bone materials
http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/face-the-music.html
http://www.medievalwarfare.info/weapons.htm Re: quarterstaves

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3739110/ Yellow Birds movie
http://www.tarogold.com/2008/02/13/living-wabi-sabi/

UPCOMING RESTORES

Rough Finish – Reworking Damaged Rim on a Savinelli Estella 412KS Dublin

11 Replies

Blog by Steve Laug

Warren, a Facebook friend, gifted me this Estella Dublin made by Savinelli not too long ago. It came to me in decent shape. Someone had topped the bowl and removed the original rustication and the topping had given the bowl a decided cant to the front and to the left side. The finish was in good shape. There was a dark spot on the lower portion of the bowl on the right side that made me wonder what was going on. The stamping was sharp and read Estella 412KS. The inside of the bowl had been reamed but it showed that it was lightly smoked. The stem was dirty but in decent shape as well. There was minimal tooth chatter on both sides and a faint E stamp on the left near the half saddle. There were also some ripples in the Lucite stem from buffing.

I scrubbed the bowl with Murphy’s Oil Soap and a tooth brush to remove the grime and to see what was going on with the dark spot on the right. I could see from the inside of the bowl that there was no internal damage or burn through happening there. It appeared to be darkened only in colour rather than in burning. I rinsed the bowl with warm water and dried it off. The photos below show the bowl after it had been scrubbed.

The next three photos show the angle on the top of the bowl. From all my research on the brand and shape on the internet I had seen that the top was supposed to be flat and rusticated. I would need to flatten the rim and take care of the cant.

When a bowl is this far out of square with a difference of almost ¼ inch in the slope it is a bit tricky to get a flat top. I used 220 grit sandpaper to begin the process and then used the Dremel and sanding drum to bring all sides even to my eye. Once I had the surface close to flattened I used a topping board and sandpaper to finish the job.

I cleaned out the airway in the mortise and the stem with pipe cleaners, cotton swabs and alcohol. With the internals clean and the top flattened it was time to work on rusticating it. I wiped down the top with a cloth to have a clean surface to work with. The photo below is the final photo of the flattened smooth top. Originally the Estella had a rim top that went with the rustication on the bowl. In all of my research I could not find one that was smooth topped. I wanted to approximate the original finish of the rim so I looked on the internet to find a close-up photo of what the rim on this particular shaped Dublin would have looked like when it left the factory. The photo below, while not of a new pipe, shows the rustication of the original rim. I used a Dremel and an assortment of dental burrs to rusticate the rim surface. I started with a Dremel burr to begin with so I could roughen the surface before using the other burrs. Each burr gave a slightly different pattern to the rustication and gave it a more random appearance.

The finished rustication is shown in the photo below. I used a light brown stain pen to stain the rim to match the rest of the pipe. I scrubbed the rusticated top with a brass tire brush to clean up the look and give it the same kind aged rustication that the bowl had. The brass brush knocked off the high spots and evened out the surface for a more random look. I sanded the stem with 220 grit sandpaper to remove the rippled effect on both the top and the bottom of the stem and then used a fine grit sanding sponge to smooth out the scratches. I wet sanded the stem with 1500-2400 grit micromesh sanding pads and then dry sanded with 3200-12000 grit micromesh pads.

I buffed the bowl and stem with Blue Diamond on the buffer and then gave them both several coats of Halcyon II wax and hand buffed it with a shoe brush to raise the shine. The finished pipe is shown in the photos below. I thoroughly enjoy the challenges present by the pipes I work on. This one was no exception. I think the finished look was worth the added effort to rusticate the rim. Once again thank you for taking the time to read and look at the blog.

Breathing new life into this Dusky Dulcet Bulldog

1 Reply

Blog by Geoff Carmell

It is a pleasure for me to post this first blog by Geoff Carmell. I have followed his work on Facebook and we have communicated via Messenger and email now for a while. We have common friends in the small pipe community of Calgary. I saw his work on this bulldog and knew it was going to a common friend so I asked him to do a blog on the restoration. Geoff, it is great to have this piece here. You have done some great work on that old pipe. Thanks for sharing it with us all. Welcome to rebornpipes.
Hello everyone, this is my first attempt at blogging about one of my pipe refinishing projects.

Before I begin, our host Steve Laug wanted me to give a brief introduction about myself. I am still quite a novice when it comes to the world of pipes but that hasn’t quelled my desire to keep collecting, refinishing and smoking pipes. For me it truly started while going to local antique shops last fall while my parents were visiting. I was hooked when I refinished one of those antique store finds and haven’t looked back since.

I wanted to take a moment and say that refinishing pipes as a hobby has really helped me in more ways than one. I live in Southern Alberta and I am a crane truck operator in the oil and gas industry. Last year was an extremely slow year for me and 2016 isn’t looking any better. As such, I needed an outlet to keep myself from going crazy worrying about all the “what if’s” in life.

This began my journey into the world of pipe refinishing. This nice little bulldog was one of my first eBay purchases and was really in decent shape needing very little work, or so I thought…

My first step was to thoroughly clean the bowl inside and out. I did my usual salt/alcohol soak to get rid of any “ghosts” in the bowl. Before I did that though, I used Q-tips and pipe cleaners dipped in alcohol to clean the shank. Once the bowl was sanitized I turned my attention to the outside of the bowl by using a lightly dampened patch of “0000” steel wool to clean off the grime. To my dismay, this “cleaning” uncovered a crack in the rim. Not sure of what to do I just began sanding the rim down to the point that the crack was no longer visible. After I finished sanding the rim, I turned my attention to the grooves on the front of the bowl which had all but disappeared due to the wood swelling. After lots of filing with my newly acquired needle files the grooves started to take shape again. With the rim and grooves in good shape again I sanded the bowl with 400 and 600 grit sandpaper. I then proceeded to dye the bowl with Fiebings mahogany leather dye. I set the dye by flaming it and then left that to sit overnight. I turned once again to my steel wool to help strip off the dye to reveal the beautiful grain underneath. The bowl seemed lacking, I decided to sand the rim of the bowl once more if only to reveal the original briar again, although it’s not noticeable in the pictures, I sanded the ridge between the two grooves as well to show some contrast. Once the sanding was complete I used my buffing wheel with brown Tripoli to further bring out the shine and then applied a couple of coats of carnauba wax to protect the finish.

After the bowl was done I used the buffing wheels to put a shine on the stem as well. After all the buffing and waxing is done I like to use a clean microfiber clothe to hand rub the bowl and stem. This really helps to get rid of any wax buildup. After all is said and done I really enjoyed this refinishing project and I was pleased that it turned out to be my first pipe that would go to a great guy in our church.
Thanks for looking.
Best regards,
Geoff

A Sad Lesson from a Botched GBD Repair (by Someone Else) I Tried to Mend

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If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
― Thomas Bertram “Bert” Lance (1931-2013), U.S. bank teller to president and Director of the Office of Management and Budget under President Jimmy Carter, in the May 1977 issue of “Nation’s Business” magazine

INTRODUCTION
This is a sad tale for all involved: the eBay seller from whom I purchased the GBD straight apple sitter this blog concerns, for $39.99 in April of last year, which the good lady in England refunded five days later; me, as the buyer who requested the refund after receiving the pipe and finding that the photos posted by the seller did not reveal the hidden nomenclature from a previous silver banding to fix an apparent crack in the shank, and at last, in a very real way, the person or persons unknown responsible for the banding itself that, nine months later, I have only just discovered was unnecessary. At least the last of the concerned parties is/are blithely unaware.

That’s right, you read correctly. Although I was justified in asking for the refund, and intended to pay the high postage required to return it to the seller beforehand, she responded, to my gentle but detailed account of the reasoning, with a message that can only be described as hysterical from an obvious sense of unjustified guilt for having “falsely advertised” the GBD. I never used that phrase in my request.

As I recall – though I can’t locate the exchange of emails between the Englishwoman and me that followed my awaiting the arrival of the GBD, with great expectations that were dashed by its clear flaws upon receipt – she wrote back that I should not bother returning it at all, but instead that she would promptly refund my money and I should “keep it, sell it for whatever you can, or throw it away, I don’t care.”

At that point, I was filled with remorse over the anguish in the tone and content of her message that literally rang in my ears, even without an exclamation point. I nevertheless attempted, in a final, unanswered message, to express my intent merely to let her know, in order to sell this pipe or any other (they are not her specialty), that she only needed to add a brief note of the band work and its effect on the nomenclature, as these are important details to collectors and sellers, and perhaps lower her asking price.

After showing the pipe to Chuck Richards, my good friend and mentor, before the emails described above and allowing him to discover on his own the same flaws I detected, he concluded that if I paid more than $10 for it, I should immediately ask for a refund, as I had bought it for my own estate pipe business with the prospect of a quick clean-up for resale. When I told Chuck the actual amount I had shelled out, he was speechless for a moment before all but insisting I seek the refund.

I have been unable to get the shame-riddled emailed words of the kind seller, who as far as I’m concerned made an honest mistake and acted, throughout the transaction, in absolute good faith, out of my mind ever since. I have entertained various options concerning the ultimate disposition of the pipe’s rightful ownership. Of course, I could (A) keep the still beautiful pipe and restore it as best I could to put in my own collection or sell with appropriate disclaimers; (B) clean it up and return it, like a good gentleman, to the grief-stricken lady, with the emphatic suggestion that she give it to a friend who enjoys pipes and would likely treasure this one, if she still didn’t wish to sell it on eBay with a lower price and notices, or (C) complete the work that could be done to fix the damages wrought on the hapless GBD, keep it or sell it but under no circumstances toss it in the trash as the seller advocated, and write the blog now presented as a full and sincere apology to the lady, with the intent of depositing the refunded money back into her PayPal account and forwarding her the link to the blog.

With great effort, I at last located the transaction numbers and dates of the original purchase and refund, and with them was able to obtain the lady’s name and email address.

I will save my final decision for later in this account of the restoration of the GBD Prestige straight apple sitter, which research has disclosed was made prior to the acquisition of GBD (an abbreviation of the three founders of the brand in 1850 in Paris – Ganneval, Bondier and Donninger) by Cadogan of the Oppenheimer group in the 1970s. The imprint “London England” in a straight line on the right side of the shank, almost half of which was obliterated by the band, narrowed the pipe to the pre-Cadogan era and also signified that it might have been made in France despite the nomenclature. GBD was last taken over in 1981 by Comoy’s.

The other nomenclature on the Prestige was critically faint, before I started work on it, and included on the left shank the small letters GBD in an oval, barely visible beside the band, and the model name in cursive that took hours to decipher enough to make out the first uncovered letters, “Prest,” which led the excellent Englishwoman to suspect Presto, but I Googled and found the full correct name. On the right shank, equally as light as the left and below “on England,” were three numbers for the shape, 448, which I understood was 9448. Here is what another version of the pipe looked like. The apple of my eyes in this blog is remarkably similar, discounting the nomenclature.

RESTORATION

[Note the unusual, perfect, pale half oval indentation in the top of the shank in the sixth photo above: I have.no rational explanation for the presence of this mark other than the appearance that it is neither a natural aspect of the wood nor any type of damage, such as a crack. I believe the previous restorer attempted to use a self-made metal band, with the idea of reinforcing the top of the shank without covering any of the nomenclature. If this admittedly crazy-sounding guess is correct, the restorer likely intended to do the same on the bottom of the shank but aborted the idea altogether after failing with the top piece. Call me nuts, but this mark is not an accident.]

Already considering re-banding the apple with a shorter sterling variety, I tugged at the one used in the first place, without much hope that it might be loose, and was surprised when it flew off of the shank and onto my lap. Now that was fortunate indeed, for, upon closer inspection, I was able to see that the tiny line in the shank’s opening, which ignited some daft restorer’s passion to fix something that wasn’t broken, was a mere blemish that led nowhere and, in fact, disappeared with a few seconds of sanding. I have to add an acknowledgement of my simultaneous relief that the shank was not cracked and disgust with the previous restorer who desecrated the otherwise weathered but fine pipe by ruining so much of the invaluable nomenclature. The only remaining imprints were the indentations left from the hallmarks and sterling silver designation on the once tight band. I scoffed out loud after my brain digested this enormous error in judgment that more or less ended any real value – and prestige, so to say – this GBD might have had.

Not yet wanting to deal with the majority of the stummel’s outer area, I decided to start by removing the years of accumulated dirt and whatnot from the wood with small soft white pieces of cotton gun cleaner cloths and much of the rim char with wet micromesh pads and a light touch of superfine steel wool. I followed those tasks by clearing the small amount of excess carbon in the chamber with a 19mm reamer and 200- and 500-grit paper, swabbing with Everclear-soaked cotton cloth pieces, and a retort of the pipe.

The retort turned out to be the hardest part of these preliminary steps, as neither of the two rubber tubes that span the few inches from the boiling Everclear to the lip of the bit would fit the extra wide mouthpiece that was part of the GBD. And so, ad-libbing somewhat, I sought out another bit from my collection with a tenon that fit the GBD and a lip that matched the rubber tube. Of course, the last possible pipe I checked was a match – or closely enough. It was from a favorite Ropp. I had no trouble cleaning the metal inlaid GBD bit with a couple of alcohol-soaked bristly cleaners.

The photos above show the surprising cleanliness of the well-worn sitter, and by inference, the degree of care its fortunate owner once accorded the bijou. The later of two test tubes full of Everclear used in the retort was almost clear, with only a few small, solid pieces of flotsam at the bottom.

Here, alas, is where I erred, and will have to accept the consequences, until the day I die, for the heartbreaking lesson they provided. In hindsight, I suppose I might, at this critical stage, have sought the guidance of Chuck or Steve (my second if unofficial mentor in this ever-evolving process of learning). But, as Jesse Eisenberg’s character in “Zombieland,” Columbus (for the city in Ohio where he was born), repeated slowly as a sort of mantra: “Shoulda-coulda-woulda.” Much as Columbus had come up with rules for surviving a zombie apocalypse, so have I adopted a set of guidelines, from my own experiences and those of others, for pipe restoring.

Sometimes I ignore one of these, for the most part with success, and sometimes I have to learn the hard way, on my own. Still, as I type this, I find myself experiencing emotions I prefer to avoid. Recognizing my harshness with the previous restorer, and my own share of fault for the apple’s present condition, I nevertheless tell myself I did my best, alone, to return the splendid pipe to its potential glory. My mistake, although unintentionally made in the pursuit of correcting one more egregious that I believed necessitated my next step, is on me.

To the point, and in spite of a note in my previous blog that I try my best to avoid full stripping of a pipe’s original stain and waxes with an Everclear bath, that is what I did.

These photos show two things: the wonderful success in removing the remaining rim char and reducing the wood to its natural smoothness, and, as an unexpected result of the latter, also eliminating almost every vestige of the remaining nomenclature. Anyone who loves pipes with all of his heart, as I do, will comprehend the complete hollowness, in the pit of my stomach and consuming my mind, I experienced upon seeing with my own eyes the gaff I had committed. I sat there on my couch awhile, stunned, until I forced myself to snap out of the melancholy reverie and get on with it.

Flashing on memories of a few pipes restored by Chuck, and which I bought despite the blemishes I detected and wondered why he let them remain, I knew the full answer he omitted, in his enigmatic way, when I asked him. Some flaws, as battles, are better left unfought. Before I reached this conclusion – as my mind was still rampaging with thoughts of how I should have approached the same notion of stripping the original stain and waxes from just the bowl and chamber, or could have accomplished the goal better, or would have saved the fragile markings that could now be visible – I had to suffer the unavoidable fact of my misdeed. Shoulda-coulda-woulda.

Thus I embarked on the only course of action I had left – to re-smooth and finish cleaning the chamber with 150-, 200- and 500-grit papers followed by small cotton cloths soaked with alcohol, and returning the sheen of the wood using superfine steel wool and then 3600-12000 micromesh pads. I then re-stained the briar, first trying Lincoln Medium Brown leather dye and flaming it before buffing with 6000 and 8000 micromesh.

I saw that the clear, pale half-oval shape, from the suspected attempt by the previous restorer to use an adornment band to fix the misperceived shank crack, remained stubbornly. And so, having nothing to lose, I sanded the open end of the shank with 150-, 200-, 320- and 500-grit papers before micro-meshing and staining again. I’ll tell you straight out, this was not the end of the struggle to fix the single blemish. Of course, I buffed off the char from flaming the end of the shank with 6000 and 8000 micromesh, and reattached the bit to the shank with the band removed, to check the fit. The bit was still a match with the shank! Grateful to have something go right, I turned in that direction and went after the bit. The photos below show before, as it arrived in the mail, and after I worked on it with the tools displayed.

This blog is nothing if not a cautionary tale about the horrors of reversing someone else’s mistakes – of which mine, unfortunately, cannot be undone. I return to the battle of the pernicious, aborted oval pipe band, at the very moment I concluded that maybe a darker staining, adding Lincoln’s version of burgundy red to the medium brown I applied earlier, would help me be out, out with the foul spot. I was wrong, but here’s what it looked like after flaming the alcohol out of the stain. However, this was, at least, a step in the right direction. I concluded that, despite my deepest desire not to be forced to re-shackle the apple sitter with the excellent but unnecessary sterling band that caused this ruckus in the first place, I had no choice. I Super Glued the band firmly back onto the shank, with the hallmarks on the left side, and it did serve to obscure most of the oval shape. Before I snapped the next photos, I added another spot stain using more of the medium brown, flamed it and buffed with 8000 micromesh. That was pretty much the end of the oval spot!

At long last, I was ready for the final buffing on my electric wheels, which as always involved the clean buffer after each of the waxes. For the bit, I used the regular red and white Tripoli and White Diamond. Having let every other convention fly in the wind, the thought occurred to me to wax the stummel with the red Tripoli as well as white, followed by White Diamond and a slow double-coat of carnauba.

CONCLUSION
The foul spot still remains enough for a good eye to catch, if not the camera for once. I’m going to sum this up with the note that I sincerely hope I succeeded in creating a final result that, despite its one glaring disaster, reveals a more beautiful grain than the original darker version. And one more thing: I have decided to return the money the Englishwoman who gave me this fine GBD refunded to me last April, and then forward the link to this explanation. At this point in the whole experience with the cursed and enchanted apple sitter, I am happy to take a loss for once, and will try to sell the pipe for $25. I have no doubt the lady in England is lovely. How could she not be, given her obvious love of pipes that equals mine?

SOURCES
http://www.pipephil.eu/logos/en/logo-gbd.html
http://yeoldebriars.com/gbd013.html
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LPIuIfAywvY Zombieland Rules (AC, AL, GL, V)

UPCOMING RESTORES

Celebrating the Re-Opening of My Store with a Restoration

A Peterson’s Product 268 Zulu Restemmed and Restored

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Blog by Steve Laug

This pipe came to me with the Meerschaum Sultan that I restemmed. It is stamped Shamrock on the top of the shank and “A Peterson’s Product” Made in the Republic of Ireland on the underside. On the right side near the bowl shank union it was stamped 268. I looked the number up and it is the shape number for a Zulu shape. The gentleman in Chile wrote: “I only have the bowl (I’m not acquainted with the minor brand) with an inappropriate mouthpiece which makes it impossible to smoke. I don’t remember how it got into my collection and certainly it’s not a pipe I purchased myself. It has a heavy cake and is a second-hand. If a proper mouthpiece could be made and a proper tune-up, it could make a fine pipe.” He included the following pictures. When it arrived I took it out of the box to deal with when I had finished repairing the Sultan Meerschaum pipe. It was a nice piece of briar with mixed grain and a worn finish. The stamping on the top of the shank was clear and sharp. The stamping on the underside showed clearly on the left side as you read it but as you got to the right side it was fainter. The rim was dirty and had a flaky coat of lava overflowing from the inside of the bowl and the thick cake there. The inner and outer rim looked good with no dents or chips. The bowl sides, front and back had some light dents in the finish. The stem was a billiard stem that had been stuck in the shank. It fit snugly but absolutely did not match the oval shank.

I took a close up photo of the rim and the bowl to show the thickness of the cake. Toward the bottom of the bowl it got thicker and reduced the size of the bowl at the airway. I looked at several Peterson shape # 268 Zulus to get an idea of what the stem looked like originally on this pipe. I went through my can of stems and found several that would work on this pipe. The one that was the closest to matching the diameter of the shank of the pipe was a brand new stem blank that still had the castings on the sides and end of the button. The slot was constricted but the length and shape would be easy to match to the shank. I drilled open the airway to accept the rod of the PIMO tenon tool. And then set up the tenon tool on a cordless drill. The current tenon was too long for the tool to cut all the way to the end of the tenon so I used the Dremel and sanding drum to shorten the tenon. I put it on the tool and adjusted the set screws and took off the first round of material. I did three adjustments to turn the tenon down to a fit in the mortise. I fine tuned the fit with 220 grit sandpaper.

The fit in the mortise was snug. The diameter of the new stem was large on the sides and the bottom. The top would take the least adjustment to get the fit correct.

I took off the majority of the excess vulcanite with the Dremel and sanding drum. I put it back in the shank and the fit was better. The rest of the work would have to be done by hand sanding. I hand sanded the stem until it was smooth and the transition between the shank and stem needed some fine tuning then set the stem aside and worked on the bowl. Contrary to my normal pattern I wiped off the outside of the bowl and shank with acetone on cotton pads to remove the finish and the grime that had been ground into the briar. Once it was gone there was some nice grain showing through.

I put the stem in place and took a few photos so that I could see where I stood at this point in the process. The pipe was looking good and with a few tweaks would look even better.

The top of the bowl was caked and the lava was very hard. I tried to scrape it carefully with a pen knife and gave up. I resorted to lightly topping the bowl on the topping board to remove the thick lava build up.

I reamed the bowl with a PipNet reamer starting with the first cutting head. I finished with the second cutting head which was the same diameter as the inside of the bowl. I cut the cake back to bare briar so I could assess the inner bowl walls. They looked very good with little burn or damage. The cake had protected them.

I fine tuned the sanding on the stem and shank fit with 220 grit sandpaper and shaped the stem to match the oval of the shank. The flow of the bowl and stem were looking really good at this point in the process.

I cleaned out the inside of the mortise and the airway in the stem and shank with alcohol, cotton swabs and pipe cleaners. I used the dark brown stain pen to touch up the rim and the end of the shank to match the stain colour on the rest of the pipe. I rubbed it down with a light coat of olive oil to give some life to the dry wood. I gave the bowl a quick buff with Blue Diamond and then gave it one coat of carnauba wax and hand buffed it with a microfibre cloth. The “new” look of the bowl is shown in the photos below.

With the bowl stained and oiled I used a heat gun to bend the stem and get the proper angles that I had found online on the 268 shaped pipes. I heated the stem until it was pliable and then bent it over a round can to get a smooth angle. I took photos of the pipe with a bent stem to give a feel for the finished look.

I fine tuned the fit of the stem to the shank by beveling the inner edge of the mortise in the shank and then cleaning the area around the tenon stem joint. I wet sanded the stem with 1500-2400 grit micromesh and then rubbed the stem down with Obsidian Oil. I dry sanded it with 3200-4000 grit micromesh pads and gave it another coat of oil. I finished sanding with 6000-12000 grit micromesh pads and gave it a final coat of Obsidian Oil. I laid the stem aside to dry.

I put the stem on the pipe and buffed the entirety with Blue Diamond and then gave it multiple coats of carnauba wax. I buffed it with a clean buffing pad and then by hand with a microfibre cloth. The finished pipe is shown in the photos below. It is ready to go back to Chile. Sometime early this week I will pack the two repaired pipes up and make the trip to FEDEX to send them back. I look forward to hearing what the two of them smoke like for the Chilean pipeman. I like the new looks of both of these pipes and I think he will as well. But I have to tell you I am a sucker for the Zulu shaped Petersons. This one is a beauty!

Restemming and restoring an oval shank billiard with issues

1 Reply

Blog by Steve Laug

I was gifted an oval shank billiard with a broken tenon and no stem by a fellow pipe refurbisher. He knows I like a challenge so he thought that maybe this would be a fun one for me to fiddle with. I looked at it when I unpacked it and spent more time looking at it over the weekend. When I first picked it up I put it in the bin of pipe to be refurbished and pretty much figured it would be one of those that I picked up when I had nothing else to work on. I have a few of those sitting in the bottom of the box. On Sunday I was going through the box trying to decide which pipe I would work on next and picked it up. There was something about it that drew me to work on it next. I can’t tell you what that was; I have no words to describe it. I know though that those of you who refurbish pipes know the feeling and the call of certain pipes. This was one of those. So it came to my work table.

Now that I had made a decision to work on it I took time to look it over and assess it. That is what I always do when I work on a pipe. I look it over and list out what needs to be addressed if I am to bring this pipe back to life. I like to enter into the work with a clear idea of what needs to be done. Doing this keeps me from finding those issues that surprise you in the process – at least most of the time it does. There will always be exceptions to the rule. For this pipe it was pretty straight forward.
Here is a list of the issues:

1. The finish was very rough and the darkening of the briar around the middle of the bowl was worrisome. It was hard to tell if it was potential burnout starting to happen – thus darkening the briar or if it was dirt and grime. I was pretty sure it was just soiled and stained but could not tell for sure until I had reamed the bowl.

2. There were scratches and dents all over the surface of the bowl.

3. There was one large fill on the right side of the bowl, mid-bowl that would need some work. I would either need to pick it out and refill it or repair it.

4. There was a burn mark on the underside of the shank mid-shank.

5. There appeared to be a small crack on the bottom of the shank at the place the stem and shank meet. It extends inward about a quarter inch. It was hard to see as it was hidden in the dings on the bottom of the shank from when the pipe had been dropped and the stem broken.

6. The bowl had a thick cake in it to the point that the tip of my little finger was about all that would fit in the bowl.

7. The rim had nicks and damage to the surface as well as a lava overflow from the cake in the bowl.

8. The stamping was virtually nonexistent. All that remained was a faint stamp on the left top side of the shank near the end – it read Made in London. It would definitely disappear if I banded the pipe to deal with the crack.

9. The airway in the shank and mortise was dirty and clogged. I could push air through it but barely when I blew through the end of the shank.

10. There was a broken tenon stuck in the shank. Generally these are pretty straight forward so I was not too worried about removing it.

11. There was no stem to work from as a model and the oval shank would make matching it a challenge.

Here is what the pipe looked like when I brought it to the work table.

I started the cleanup by pulling the broken tenon. I used the normal drywall screw and had the tools handy. In this case I threaded the screw in gently and was able to pull the tenon out by hand very easily.

I turned to my can of stems for a potential stem. I actually had one that was a decent fit. The tenon was perfect and the fit against the shank end was ideal. The diameter of the stem on the bottom of the oval was too big and would need to be sanded to a correct fit. It happened to be the only oval stem I had at the moment and it was a twin bore bite proof stem. I was careful in fitting the stem because of the small crack in the shank.

I used the Dremel and sanding drum to take off the excess rubber on the bottom of the stem. This may be a funny thing to say but as I examined the stem after I fit it to the shank I noticed it had a small hole near the button. When I turned it over to check it out then I noticed that I was dealing with a bite proof stem – a stem with two airholes coming out of the button from the single airway in the stem. Picture the letter Y and you have a good picture of the stem. I inserted a greased pipe cleaner in the airway on left airhole and then repaired the hole in the underside of the stem. I used black super glue to fill it and built it up to give a good base. When it dried I sanded it smooth with 220 grit sandpaper to blend it into the surface of the stem.

Reaming the bowl took some effort and several different reamers. I used the PipNet reamer to start and then worked on the bowl with a KLEENREEM reamer. I finished by using a pen knife to clean out the last remnant of carbon in the bowl. I cleaned out the airway in the shank and the stem with pipe cleaners, cotton swabs and alcohol.

I topped the bowl on my sanding board and lightly sanded the cracked area and damage on the bottom of the shank end.

I sanded the stem with 220 grit sandpaper and then with a medium sanding sponge to smooth out the scratches. I wiped the bowl down with acetone on cotton pads to remove the grime and the remaining finish. The new stem fit really well and I only wished that the shank did not have the small crack that mad banding a necessity.

I cleaned the area around the fill on the right side and repaired it with super glue. I sanded it smooth and then sanded the bowl with a medium grit sanding sponge. I heated the briar with a heat gun and then applied a coat of cherry stain to it. The stain took well and sat deeply in the grain of the bowl.

With the stain in place the crack on the underside of the shank was very visible. It was mid shank and extended about ¼ inch. At this point I had to decide how to address this crack. I could do a shank insert and do an internal repair or I could band it. In looking over the shank I realized that the tenon was already quite thin and I would be hard pressed to make it smaller to fit inside of a shank insert. I would need to band the pipe. I had a round band that would fit once I flattened it. I opened the crack with a dental pick and filled it with glue to repair the crack and then pressed the band into place on the shank.

I lightly sanded the tenon as the band made the fit in the shank too tight. I put the stem in place and took the next photo to get an idea of the new look. I set the bowl aside and worked on the stem. I sanded it with micromesh sanding pads. I did my usual routine with the micromesh pads – wet sanding with the 1500-2400 grit and dry sanding with the rest of the pads up to 12000 grit. I used Obsidian Oil as usual.

I buffed the nickel band with a jeweller’s cloth and buffed the pipe on the wheel with Blue Diamond polish. I gave the bowl and stem multiple coats of carnauba wax. I buffed it on a clean flannel buffing wheel and then by hand with a microfibre cloth to raise the shine. The finished pipe is shown below. I think that taking the time to recondition and restore this pipe paid off with a beautiful oval shank billiard. Thanks for looking.

Putting the pieces together and arriving at a Parker Super Bruyere Billiard

3 Replies

Blog by Pam Otto

It is with pleasure that I introduce to you all the work of one of our readers, Pam Otto. I think as you read this first blog of hers posted here that you will join me in hoping we have not heard the last of her. She has done work on this Parker that rivals what an early writer, Gan Barber did with a Peterson. (If you did not read it or don’t remember here is the link: https://rebornpipes.com/2012/10/03/all-the-kings-horses-and-all-the-kings-men-a-petersen-adventure-gan-barber/). Pam has done the work a masterful job of rebuilding this old pipe. Its finished beauty is amazing. Thank you Pam for being willing to post here. It is a privilege to have you here. Without further ado, here is her post. — rebornpipes

I discovered the hobby of pipe restoration about a year and a half ago and jumped in with both feet. I soon discovered Reborn Pipes and Steve, let me tell you, my life hasn’t been the same since. Thanks so much for the information, techniques and methods you share, and for this opportunity to contribute to your blog.

Most of the pipes I’ve worked on, and learned on, have arrived through the “usual channels”–flea markets, estate sales and of course eBay. But this particular pipe, a Parker Super Bruyere, came via a more unusual route.

I was at work one recent Saturday (I manage a nature center when I’m not fiddling with pipes) when I received a text message from my friend Suzi. It contained this photo, along with the words, “Thought of you at Geneva Mothers Club bazaar!” One look at that pic and I knew work could wait. I jumped in the car and within minutes arrived at the craft show location.

I half walked, half jogged up to the building, paid my entrance fee and made my way through the throng—a well-dressed, Ladies Who Lunch crowd—in search of a sign that read Exit 22E. A subsequent text from Suzi had given this added detail, which turned out to be absolutely essential in navigating the cavalcade of vendors.

After a couple of wrong turns I at last found the booth, staffed by a pleasant woman peddling hand-crafted snowman décor. With sawdust and a little mud crumbling off my jacket, I reached for her basket of “Frosty’s Pipes” and began laying them out on the counter. We exchanged pleasantries—the woman and I—and she told me that the pipes were US$4.95 each. She also encouraged me to consider a snowman for my front door. But by then I wasn’t really listening.

I emptied the basket and studied what Frosty had to offer, eventually deciding on five Yello Boles of various vintages going back to Honey Cured Briar; a Medico Ventilator I want to try unventilating; and the Parker.

Clutching my prizes, swathed in tissue paper within a plastic Wal-Mart bag, I then faced the daunting task of navigating back through the crowded aisles. (Exit 22E, it turns out, was for emergencies only.) Along the way I bumped into Suzi and excitedly showed her the pipes—especially the Parker—while she in turn showed me the handmade greeting cards she’d found. Both happy with our purchases, we went our separate ways—she to peruse more holiday wares, I to head home and triage my treasures. Spread out on the dining room table, the pipes ran the gamut from barely touched to smoked nearly beyond recognition. Oddly enough, rather than dismiss pipes in poor condition, I find myself drawn to them. Clearly their previous owners found them quite delectable; there’s a good chance some of that former glory remains. And so it was that the Parker went to the front of the line.

Carbon clogged the bowl and had fractured the briar in three separate places, the cracks pervading the crusted rim and converging at the bottom of the bowl. The shank too was obstructed with decades of hardened goo, to the point where the mortise could accommodate only about half of the stem’s tenon. I turned up the lights and rubbed the shank a bit in an effort to remove some surface grime and get a better look at the shank’s stampings. The left side bore a faint PARKER SUPER BRUYERE, the SUPER inside a diamond; closer to the bowl was stamped the number 5. The right side read MADE IN LONDON over ENGLAND and the number 18. Below this was PAT. NO. 116989/17 and, about 5mm toward the bowl, a capital letter T.

I did a quick check of Pipedia and PipePhil for Parker date codes and discovered that this old boy* dates to 1941. (*As a female, I find it funny that men tend to refer to pipes in the feminine, i.e. she/her. To me they’re clearly male. But to each his or her own, right?)

At any rate, I couldn’t wait to get started on the pipe’s revival. I started by gently pulling the stem from the shank and laying it aside. For all its years of service, its oxidation was minimal. There were some troubling dings, one nearly marring the P logo, but the delicate work they would require could wait.

Instead I turned my attention to the amazing carbon cake. I tried to picture the very last time the previous owner loaded up the bowl. Roughly half its original capacity remained and the draw, if there was one at all, probably caused some pulled lip and/or cheek muscles. I put the smallest head on my Pipnet and gently twisted it inside the cake. I expected the bowl to disintegrate immediately but, no, that took a good two or three turns more.

Moments later, with three distinct pieces in my hand and a lot more carbon to remove, I headed down to the garage and the Dremel. Even though this tool and its potential for destruction scares the bejeebers out of me, when equipped with a sanding barrel it does make quick work of hardened cake. A few minutes later I returned to my dining/work table blackened with carbon (thank goodness for dust masks and goggles) but with three much-cleaner pieces of briar to assess.

Parts of the bowl were not only caked but also charred, so I’d had to remove a considerable amount of material. Worse, due to the uneven nature of the char, the bowl innards were something less than round.

The good news tho was that all the breaks were clean, and the three pieces fit neatly back together. Before reassembly I scrubbed the outer surfaces with straight-up Murphy’s Oil Soap, then wiped them down with a damp towel. The grain that was hiding beneath the grunge made me smile. I mixed up some JB Weld and applied it to the breaks, placing more on the inner edges than the outer. I reunited the individual parts, pressed and held them together for a couple of minutes, smoothed the interior with a toothpick and then set the bowl aside to cure.

A combination of demands at work as well as home meant that it was another week before I returned to the Parker. I tried twisting and turning the bowl and thankfully the “welds” held. JB Weld is tough stuff. 🙂 I ran a needle along the external surfaces of the cracks to clean out any loose debris, then applied briar dust and super glue. While waiting for the glue mixture to cure, I began work on the stem. Starting with a small, folded bit of 220 grit paper, then 400 and 600, I gingerly worked on the small gouges near the base. If it weren’t for their location near the logo, I would have tried using a flame and then sanding. But I opted instead to make the raised edges flush with the stem, then mixed powdered charcoal with super glue and filled in the small cavities that remained. After curing, I sanded the patches smooth.

I also decided to experiment with the inside of a cigar box as background for picture taking. The next day I sanded the briar-dust crack repairs with a succession of 220, 400 and 600 grit sandpapers. I also topped the bowl with that same sequence to see how the cracks appeared from the top down. I put the stem back in the shank to size up how things were coming along and, when it only went in halfway, remembered that I still had a lot of internal cleaning to do.

I dipped a bristle pipe cleaner in 91% isopropyl alcohol and threaded it through the stem, then set it aside to soak. I attempted to do the same with the shank, but it was so clogged I had to first abrade away whatever gunk I could reach with a round needle file.

I dripped some alcohol down the shank and eventually was able to poke through to the bowl with a bristle cleaner—the first of many. I worked for about an hour, switching between bristle cleaners and cotton swabs, before finally finishing up with a few regular pipe cleaners.

The stem took a little less time, maybe 30 minutes, and a dozen bristle and regular pipe cleaners combined.

The P logo on the stem was a little worse for wear. The lower right side of the diamond, as viewed from the button end, was virtually nonexistent. Using an Exacto blade, I pushed on the faint outline that remained until there was a slight indent. It wasn’t quite as deep as the other three sides of the diamond, but I thought it prudent to stop before I went too far.

I tried using white nail polish to brighten up the logo but, perhaps because the bottle was 20 years old, the results weren’t quite what I was looking for. I wiped away the nail polish residue and applied Liquid Paper white correction fluid, which I’ve had success with in the past. I would say the results were “Meh,” except that, in looking up other Parkers online, it would appear that their stem stampings are not always super-crisp. Rather than waste more time on a detail that probably can’t improve a whole lot more, I decided to celebrate its unevenness and move along to the next step: resolving the bowl’s myriad issues.

Using 220 grit sandpaper, I moved along the inside of the bowl, sanding away excess JB Weld along with microns of briar. I eyeballed the progress as I went, hoping for a shape that approximated round. When I was satisfied it was as close as it could get, I mixed up a small batch of Steve’s sour cream-n-powdered-charcoal bowl coating and applied it, first with a dental spatula, then a folded pipe cleaner. I used my index finger for a final smoothing.
It was during this process that I noticed the left exterior of the bowl was itself somewhat flattened. Maybe a few too many whacks on a tabletop or boot heel?

Whatever the reason, I moistened a towel, heated a table knife and proceeded to steam the area. Maybe it worked, maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but the flatness did seem to raise up a bit. With that issue addressed, it was time to start staining.

When I’d cleaned up the briar with the Murphy’s Oil Soap, the grunge on the towel included a considerable amount of red pigment. Hoping to recreate the same hue, I swabbed the bowl with oxblood aniline stain, wiped it immediately with an absorbent cloth, then swabbed it with dark brown stain and wiped again. After a few touch-ups I was satisfied that the coverage was even, and flamed the stain with a lighter.

The seams where the bowl had been mended were still a little too visible for my taste, so I went at them with a black Sharpie marker. A quick dab with the marker followed by a quick wipe with my finger helped the cracks blend in a little more.

At this point I decided this Parker was about as reborn as he was going to get. Down to the garage workshop we went, one last time, to apply some carnauba. Only then did I realize just how cold our recent cold snap has been. I brought the wax bar inside to warm up a bit, then went back to the garage for a couple quick coats. More will come, after the next thaw.

If you look at the pipe up close, the cracks are still apparent. But like a bad memory, they fade with some distance. This is one pipe Frosty is going to have to do without.

Who Made Benson and Hedges Pipes – Reclaiming a B&H Acorn

I Got the Kaywoodie-Delta Blues

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Guest Blog by Robert M. Boughton
Member, International Society of Codgers
Member, North American Society of Pipe Collectors
http://www.naspc.org
http://www.roadrunnerpipesnm.biz (Coming Soon)
http://about.me/boughtonrobert
Photos © the Author

The Delta blues is a low-down, dirty shame blues. It’s a sad, big wide sound, something to make you think of people who are dead or the women who left you.
― David “Honeyboy” Edwards (1915-2011), U.S. Delta blues guitarist and singer

INTRODUCTION
I’ve been sitting on these two nice metal pipes, different brands but modeled after the original of their kind, designed by Frederick Kirsten, a U.S. professor of electrical engineering at the University of Washington who was transferred to the aeronautics department and promptly changed the course of aviation history with the creation of the Kirsten Wind Tunnel for subsonic aerodynamic testing. He also upended the tobacco pipe industry and generally rocked the world of pipe enjoyers with his 1936 invention of a sleek aluminum radiator frame with interchangeable bowls. The patented revolution in a box was more or less a way to quit cigarettes by exercising his boundless creativity. He puffed cigars as well.

Maybe I’m just not as daring as the good professor. Whenever I find myself on the edge of pipe restoration territory I haven’t charted, I hesitate. I don’t panic or freeze in terror. I just pause to survey the terrain and get my bearings; to triangulate my coordinates, find my footing, and then one day, as if on an impulse but really because I’m good and ready, I take the next leap, with some faith.

And so it was last night that I looked at the Kaywoodie Smooth Billiard and Duncan Delta Rusticated Brandy with a dental lip – again – and without thinking grabbed them. The next thing I knew, I was looking around for the implements of cleaning and restoring I might need for the combined tasks and remembered another aluminum pipe I fixed up once, an Aristocob, and how I used a solution of white vinegar and baking soda to soak the metal. Although I had bought enough of each for a lifetime when I did the Aristocob, I discovered they were lost in my latest necessarily hasty move. The nearest Walmart would close in about a half-hour, at midnight. All of Sam Walton’s children here used to stay up round the clock, but now there are less than a handful that do, and only one within any kind of reasonable distance. They had too many problems with thievery and other shenanigans, you see, mostly through the dock doors, if you follow me. I armed myself against the natives, threw on a coat, petted my cats as they were curious about the sudden hullabaloo and hurried out the door. I was back before the witching hour.

As part of the map checking I did in comforting if only perceived preparation for these restorations, I noted that the Duncan Delta, of the English metal genre, as it were, came with a non-removable bit, as did the two Falcons in my personal collection. At this point I made that greatest of mistakes: I assumed there were no exceptions to the rule.

To be fair to myself, I showed the Kaywoodie and Duncan Delta to my friend and mentor, Chuck Richards, who is usually infallible, and asked how the bits come off for cleaning. In hindsight and an extended spirit of fairness, I’m not sure he looked all that closely at them.

“They don’t,” he said, with a certain amused grin he has. “You just have to work through them.” Or something to that effect. Taking a seat on the couch with the supplies I would need to proceed, I had no idea what I was in for. I can’t wait to show Chuck the mind-boggling discovery I tripped over, figuratively speaking – about halfway through the restorations. To those in the audience who know the astonishing secret of a certain rare Kaywoodie metal pipe made from 1955-1959, with this particular surprise only included during the first year or so of that period, Shhhh! Don’t spoil the revelation for others when it comes, in good time.

RESTORATIONS

I had prepared an empty macaroni salad tub, by cleaning it with scalding water and dish soap, for the vinegar-baking soda soak of the aluminum pipe bodies. It was the widest container I had but also deeper than it needed to be. Into the tub I measured about a tablespoon of baking soda, then added the vinegar and watched it fizz madly until the powder dissolved. I placed the two parts in the mix and added more vinegar until they were almost covered. Considering the possible effects on the bits, I spontaneously chose the bolder path and pushed down a little on each one until they were submerged. The bubble action was really something to see – much more active of an interaction than an OxiClean bath – but I had other things to do. The bowls needed cleaning in the worst way, the bases in particular. The moisture from tobacco creates steam, and Kirsten’s system, which is used in metal pipes still today, traps and cools the steam in the stem. Much of the resulting very sticky, cloying gunk ends up on the bottoms of the bowls and can be cleaned in seconds by anyone who enjoys these pipes. But as Steve put it perfectly in one of his blogs on a particularly messy Generation 1 Kirsten A, I’ll just quote him: “The cleaning in seconds must not have been something that the previous owner of this pipe ever read or understood.” https://rebornpipes.com/tag/kirsten-pipes/

Taking also from this great blog the idea that metal pipes are, for the most part, sturdy things that can outlive generations of a single family of pipe enjoyers, I launched a three-pronged assault on the bottoms of the bowls alone. First I swabbed them and the rest of the bowls’ exteriors with cotton gun cleaning squares soaked with purified water; then the same with Everclear swabs, and next superfine steel wool on the bases and rims. The Delta base, being metal and somewhat pocked with corrosion, needed a little more work with sandpaper before another round of steel wool.

An odd trick of sight makes the rusticated Duncan bowl, which indeed has a wider outer diameter than the smooth Kaywoodie (about 5” compared to 4-3/8), appear as if it would need a bigger reamer to clean out most of the excess cake. But the Duncan only took a 19mm fixed reamer while the Kaywoodie held a 21mm. I smoothed the chambers with 320-grit paper followed by 200, followed by long and careful consideration of the next step. While I started restoring pipes with the habit of stripping the old finish completely, I have taken to avoiding that step for the most part on different levels of thinking, primarily two. One, I never know for sure what I’ll find beneath the finish that might have been better left uncovered, and two, I have become more purist in my approach, liking the idea of imitating the original.

Nevertheless, I concluded I just didn’t care for the light brown shade of the Kaywoodie or the dark brown of the Duncan. As the former was of U.S. origin and the latter of British make, I reasoned, that would make them cousins, as some folks on either side of the Pond refer to each other. But I wanted them to be more like brothers. Therefore, “Off with their stains!” I heard a voice cry in my head, and dunked both bottoms up into an Everclear bath, careful to leave the bases above the alcohol level. While the 190-proof alcohol changed from clear to something else, I removed the frames from their long vinegar-baking soda soak, rinsed them thoroughly and began to “work through” the Duncan frame with pipe cleaners dipped in more Everclear, still shocked, as always, at the filth that came out. Seriously, how hard is it to run a cleaner through your pipe now and then? Are restorers the only people who do it? Deep breath; exhale. I suppose that’s a rant better left for my upcoming Encyclopedia of Pipe Trips. Still, seven bristly cleaners through the frame later, and three swabs soaked with alcohol to clean out most of the mess in the round bowl connector, not to mention having to use my wire cleaner to dig out the muck in the grooves of said connector, I thought I was finished with that part. But now, looking at the photo above, I see it needs a little more work. I’m going to soak the connector in Everclear and scrub it some more. Give me a few minutes to make it shine better, and I’ll be right back with another picture. There. That was easy, and I for one feel better. Plus the picture tells the whole story!

Anyway, enough time had passed to take the bowls out of the Everclear and scrub them cleaner and dry inside-out with more cotton swabs. I used the steel wool again on both, lightly on the Kaywoodie to make it shine before heightening the effect with a micromesh progression, and vigorously to take the finish of the rusticated Duncan down still more until it was actually reddish, for which I had hoped. Re-staining both with Lincoln Marine Cordovan (Burgundy) boot stain, I flamed them with my Bic and set them aside. Now, at last, I near the dramatic moment I know you have all been waiting for! Is that the faint fade-in of a drum roll I hear, or an auditory hallucination? Due to my slight deviation from following the restorations of each pipe part by part – starting when I cleaned the Duncan frame and instead of moving on to the Kaywoodie, continued to the bowls – I did not learn the wonderful nature of the Kaywoodie until I attempted to work through it with bristly cleaners as I had the Duncan…

…and the whole thing came apart in my lap! There were the bit that wasn’t supposed to come off and some bizarre, vile, noxious looking thingamabob that looked like a wire brush. I picked it up with distaste and tossed the whole dark, stained mess in the leftover Everclear from stripping the bowls. I knew that would clean it up somewhat, and it did. With the brush out of the Kaywoodie frame, by the way, the metal was quite easy to clean. That should have been a clue, but my first thought was that someone had stuck the brush inside the frame as a makeshift filter. (It is truly scary how close and yet so far from the truth I can be sometimes in my denser moments.) At least I had the sense to recognize that the resulting hole in the frame was gaping wide, and turned to pipephil.eu for help, which I found as I almost always do. It was the second metal “filter” pipe in the Kaywoodie models A-K section, the Filter Plus, made from 1955-1959. A convenient link to Smoking Metal led me to the rest of the story. http://www.smokingmetal.co.uk/pipe.php?page=133

As it turns out, the brush is not a fluke, of course, but an original Kaywoodie nylon brush filter that was only included with the pipe during the first year or so of its four-year run. The filter brush has 5,000 fibers. Now, I want y’all to think on that fer a spell. Finding a pipe with one at all, much less intact, is a miracle. It’s no wonder Bill Feuerbach, president of S.M. Frank & Co. Inc., owner of Kaywoodie, is quoted at the link above as saying of the Filter Plus, “It is one of the most indestructible and durable pipes I have ever run across.”

Check out the advertisement below from the first year the Filter Plus was made. Considering how easy it was to clean the frame of the pipe itself, despite (or because of) the dirty condition of the filter brush, it’s a shame they stopped making them. As the ad shows, the pipe cost $4, or $35.42 in today’s money. http://www.usinflationcalculator.com/. Replacement or additional bowls were $1.50 ($13.28), and two-packs of the filter brushes were 35 cents ($3.10). Getting close to the finish line always makes my blood start to race! I buffed the two bowls with 4000 and 6000 micromesh. Then there was the Kaywoodie bit, which was looking a little rough. I sanded it with 200- and 320-grit paper before working my way up the micromesh trail, and moved on to putting a little Halcyon II wax on the Duncan. During a few of the 15 minutes or so it set in, I took the Kaywoodie Filter Plus billiard bowl and the bit (which indeed is removable) into my office. I buffed the bit with red and white Tripoli, then White Diamond, using the clean wheel between each; then the bowl with white Tripoli, White Diamond and a good coat of carnauba, again using the clean wheel in between.

Really only ten minutes more passed, at most, as I sat back on my couch, screwing the Kaywoodie bowl in and out of the frame threads and wiping it down, over and over, because it seemed like the minute hand on the clock was stuck there to spite me! Maybe that’s because I kept eyeballing it. But the time did pass, and I carried the Duncan bowl into the office for a quick spin on the clean wheel only. That was my reward for being so patient and all.

CONCLUSION
Well. Now that it’s all said and done, all I really have to add is that this pair of restorations was just plain fun. And full of surprises. And I learned a few new things I never imagined, too, and can’t wait to show Chuck!

ADDITIONAL SOURCE
https://www.reddit.com/r/PipeTobacco/comments/3a5hf9/info_on_falcon_pipe_markings/ Info on FD18 stamp

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