I've been out and about this summer, traveling and holidaying. Yet, wherever I go the woodworker in me comes out. I can't walk into a room without looking at every piece of furniture. I can't go into a kitchen without sliding open a drawer a bit to see if they are dove-tailed. I look at every building, every wall, for architectural ideas and inspiration.
The other day, while I was looking at furniture instead of what I was supposed to be doing, I saw an interesting set of chairs. They were obviously homemade. I didn't particularly like them - they were a peeled bark/stick style construction. Every piece was twisted and wild. I prefer smooth clean lines. To each his own - I guess. However, what caught my attention was the jointing style on the piece.
It was an extremely well crafted mortise and tenon joint. Its precision in contrast to the visual effect of the overall piece really drew my eye. The mortise was nothing more than a a round hole drilled through the legs. The cross branch was reduced and precisely turned to produce the tenon. The tenon then extended right through the mortise. After all that, an extra hole was drilled perpendicular to both (along the 3rd axis) and a dowel driven through.
What you need to realise is that the joints were in no way square. The twisted branches met at all sorts of oddball angles; anything but square. Sure, the mortise is easy enough - line them up, mark the angle, and tip your drill press. It was the tenon that had me. They were just too perfect. There was no way they were carved by hand, the fit was too tight. I couldn't see someone spinning a stick that twisted on a lathe. And, all the tools that I could think of that were normally used in these situations required a far more 'finished' stock. I had to ask . . .
The answer reminded me of why I love old farmers. He had made his own specialty tool, and it was the ultimate in simplicity. It was little more than a piece of pipe. He had sharpened one end with his angle grinder to create a cutter and welded a couple of wings on it that slid in a jig to keep it all 'square' (and by square he meant anything but square). First he cut the mortise. Second, he would carve down the tenon with a draw knife just to get rid of the majority of the excess. Then he would line up the branches and make a pencil line on the tenon stick. Next, he eyeballs the line in the jig groove the pipe wings slid down as he clamped it nicely into his vice where he would proceed to pound it with a hammer!
He demonstrated, I smiled. The chair was ugly, the joint was pretty, but it was the homemade tool that really floored me.