Cleaning Old Tools

Let me start by saying this is not a curatorial approach. This is about restoring an old tool with no specific historical value to working order. If you have a tool that you believe has some objective historical value (due to the maker, time/place of manufacture, or feature/process), then please handle it appropriately.

If, on the other hand, you have a musty molding plane from the early 18th Century. Perhaps a nice cock bead plane from England, then, by all means, let’s get cracking. The rest of this assumes that we are working with a molding plane.

First, let’s make sure this is going to be worth our effort:

• Is it structurally sound? At least well enough for the level of use we’re likely to require?
  • Common issues include cracks, checking, missing chunks
• Does it have wood borer holes? A couple of holes are OK, but many holes are not.
• Is the proper blade present (if appropriate)? Or you can provide a replacement?
• If it has any controls, adjusters, fences, etc. Are they present and functional? Or at least repairable?

Take a look at the plane to the left here. This is a fenced rabbet plane, continental, probably Dutch or German, 19th Century. It sorts a fair bit of wood borer holes. I am not a fan of these; it’s hard to be sure there are no active insects in the plane, and I don’t want to introduce this to my shop, so I usually pass on these. That said, even with the holes, it’s a usable plane; there’s plenty of structure left. Or you can take it to TGI Fridays and nail it to the wall with the other junk shop stuff there.

OK, we have a tool that’s structurally sound and liable to stay that way for now. Let’s start with gross cleaning.

Even though I am not attempting preservation per se, I would rather avoid removing material. So let’s not sand stuff unless it’s absolutely necessary. I have used a scraper carefully to remove paint, glue, and other blap (yes, that’s the technical term).

For instance, England’s traditional plane sole lubricant is (sheep) tallow. This comes as a cream-colored paste and is applied from a small wooden jar or similar container to the sole of a plane to reduce friction. Needless to say, over time, this gets all over the place. In particular, you end up with a black waxy buildup about where you put your hands on the front and rear of the plane. It doesn’t hurt anything, but it can be pretty ugly. There’s probably an optimal solvent for removing it, but it scraps off easily enough.

Remove the iron and wedge and set them aside. If the wood finish is:

• In good shape and clean: wipe down with BLO or wax, depending on the tool/intended use.
• In good shape but dirty: scrub it with cleaner (see sidebar)
• In poor shape, scrub it with cleaner, slather it with glop (see lower sidebar), and then wipe it down.

To the left is a good candidate for a little restorative work. This is an Ogee w/ Quirk molding plane, probably American-made in the late 19th or early 20th Century. It cuts an inch-wide profile, so it’d be useful on molding or large pieces of furniture.

Inspect the wedge. If it’s broken or cracked, make a new one. You’re a woodworker, right? This is a noble death for those molding planes that can’t be saved; saw them up into wedge stock. At least it will be the right wood and close in age.

Now, look at the iron. In general, sharpening the iron of a molding plane is accomplished by abrading the BACK of the iron. Messing with the profile is not recommended. It’s very easy to alter the profile, but the bed doesn’t match the iron. So, gentle is the way to go if the profile is rusty or needs work.