A recent joinery job I was asked to do called for some beaded face frames on an alcove cabinet. This detail works particularly well as it creates a nice shadow break before the flat panel of the door, it’s a detail I see a lot on Victorian houses in London. Making the mitred corners isn’t too hard, but quite challenging if you are doing it for the first time.
A router table and appropriate beading bit are pretty much essential, unless you are running the profile on a moulder. I guess you could set up a router so it’s supported to run the profile horizontally in some way, if you don’t have a router table. Of course, you can always cut the bead with a moulding plane too, if you have one the right size.
But with a router table, it’s a pretty easy job to set the height on some scrap and run your face frame lengths through. The mitre is achieved by cutting away the bead only in the area where the rails meets the stile. That joint needs a 45 degree bevel through the adjoining beads.
For this job, I cut the beading on the (over-long) rails and stiles. Then, I placed the face frame on the cabinet and worked out where on my stiles I wanted the joint to be. Taking the stiles to the table saw, I cut the 45 degree cuts into the beading and then cut away with a straight blade the part of the beading I didn’t need. Returning to the cabinet, I placed them again and had an accurate idea of the correct distance to cut my rails. I cut the rails and then cut the 45 degree corner from the bead. The beading should them mitre together and your rails and stiles should butt up nicely. (Before you do any of the beading, establish where your Domino joints will be and do those, if you use that technique. Or, if you are using pocket hole screws to join the face frame, you can do this at the end).
Hopefully the pics make sense. The job is now packaged up for the spray painter and should be installed in a week or so, so I’ll take some pictures once it’s in.
And, if you would like to go even further with using your router table to make the joints, then there’s a very good tutorial, click here where the chap has a very clear system of his own. He makes use of the Kreg 45 degree bit, which replaces my method of using a 45 degree blade in the table saw.
In the relatively short time I’ve lived in Hackney myself, I’ve seen a radical shift in the use of the canals in the area. For one, more and more people are living on them, with the costs of a barge and berthing being preferable to living in a minute flat with sky-high rent attached.
The Regent’s and Hertford Union Canals were of course mainly used for trade and transport, with the timber trade featuring heavily. Carolyn Clark has just produced a wonderful booklet, which you can download here, in the form of a quiz. East End Canal Heritage Quiz
There is some great information there, my favourite being a quote about Vic Veneers which reads:
‘Places like Vic Veneers…just inside Ducketts, you could actually look under the wharf, it was built above the water and they used to take the veneer timber into soak, and when they were nice and wet, soft as anything, they put them to the knife….they’d lift it out, put it on the shaver which was like a flaming great pencil sharpener and spin it up. You’d get a great long strip of veneer like flipping toilet paper, it might be 50-60 foot in length and 10 foot wide.’
Despite the never-ending autumn and very mild winter, I’m looking ahead to spring and have started to sort out my fishing gear. In my youth, I was a member of Luton Angling Club and fished many a match on the Grand Union Canal, mostly on stretches through Leighton Buzzard, such as Grove Church and Slapton. I remember hauling in quite a few good bags of roach, perch and bream, with the ever-present gudgeon making up the weight.
As much as the fishing itself, it was wonderful to get to the canal so early when the day has yet to warm up and a boat or two starts chugging through. I’m no longer in touch with most of my fishing buddies from those times, but now I’m in my late 40’s, I find myself once again drawn to fishing, perhaps these days as more of an antidote to some aspects of modern life. The same focus I find in woodworking, I also find in fishing.
Back when I was match fishing, we all used waggler (floats) and the conventional rod and reel. Some of the better-known anglers switched to the european ‘pole’, which meant a long (usually 13 metre) carbon pole which meant you didn’t have to cast a line and float. The long pole meant you could drop your hook in exactly the right spot without casting. The line was fixed directly to the end with a length of elastic to take out some of the snap when you struck a fish. The longer poles are dismantled in sections when you have a fish on and you take off the lower sections as you draw the fish in closer.
I’m quite keen to try this out and might take the plunge on a decent pole if I end up fishing a lot more, it’s an interesting technique. While I was looking around on the internet, I found some great information about canal fishing around Hackney and the River Lea that winds through it. The main course of the river was different when the Lea Navigation first opened in 1770. The navigation actually used a backwater of the River Lea up to the old Tottenham lock, where the different river channels merged again. This backwater is now the main course of the River Lea through east Hackney and Clapton. The navigation, which is actually a canal in appearance, goes north from Hackney all the way up to Hertfordshire.
Some info I found on the ‘London Roach Pole’.
Many anglers think of the pole as an invention of the 1970s. Most are shocked to learn that thousands of pole fishermen were lining the towpaths of the Lea Navigation, Regents, Hertford Union and Grand Union Canals 150 years or more ago.
The true London roach pole began its life in early Victorian times. Yes, it’s true that Izaak Walton used a roach pole long before, but his was fashioned from wood from trees, instead of cane. Nonetheless, it was a pole in its crudest form and old Izaak caught plenty of roach from the River Lea in Hertfordshire using this early pole.
The early 1800s saw many changes in the piscatorial art. The great capital city was a hotbed of angling and nine out of every ten anglers in London fished mainly for roach. Originally called Lea roach rods, the early London roach poles started at 14 feet. With the arrival of brass and wooden reels and drop ringed rods, they were referred to as poles, so that a distinction could be made between shorter roach rods and the longer roach pole.
London had many fishing rod makers scattered around the city, and some did make poles, but the leading pole makers were based in East London.
The two most renowned pole makers were T.H.Sowerbutts of Commercial Street, Shoreditch and Charles Evans of Green Street, Bethnal Green. These were followed by E.L.Sowerbutts of Ruby Mews, Walthamstow, who was to become the last man in London to manufacture roach poles.
Although roach poles started at 14 feet, they were eventually produced as long as 24 feet in length. Early Lea poles had four joints. Later, the longer poles had mainly five but sometimes six joints. All the sections fitted inside the bottom two. The butt section was made from Tonkin cane, mahogany, ash or pine. The next three joints were produced from white Carolina cane. All of these bottom four joints were hollowed out, to allow everything to pack away. The top joint was two pieces of Tonkin or bamboo, spliced into each other and a tip of greenheart, lancewood, whalebone or split cane was spliced in.
Ferrules were brass or nickel silver and unlike a rod, the female ferrules were level with the cane and had a brass liner inside the cane to facilitate wear. This was referred to as a brazed joint.
There were two end caps or stoppers to stop the joints coming out and the butt had a cap that was engraved with the maker’s name. The engraving on some poles is in a beautiful flowing script.
Finally comes the traditional black whipping. The whipping was often in a pattern that is known as a thick and two thins. These whippings are spaced at regular intervals all the way up the pole, making the pole look both unique and stunning. To the tip of the pole was tied a small length of silk line known as “topping”, which had a small loop at the end.
Early fishing lines were originally made out horsehair. This later changed to drawn gut and then after the war to nylon. Floats were made of bird quills of varying types. Floats made from feathers of crow, porcupine, goose and peacock quills all featured in the poleman’s armoury.
There was one other quill float that was unique to London. This float is known as the London taper quill or tip capped float. It consisted of two pieces of tapered quill that had pointed ivory or bone tips inserted at each end. Then the two pieces of quill were joined and bound with silk. They were produced from the period 1850 through to 1900 and there were only three men who were able to produce them. The last of these men was Mr Bazin of Hackney and his floats are generally considered the best. His floats are extremely rare today; they are known to exchange hands for £150 or more at auction!
The poler kept a wooden line-winder with up to four casts with hooks, shot and floats on it. He would choose the most suitable for the peg to be fished. By simply unwinding the cast and tying it to the loop at the end of the topping, he could be fishing in minutes. Among the baits available for the pole angler in the 1800s, bread paste was the most popular. This was fished in conjunction with a groundbait of mashed bread and bran. A small ball of groundbait was squeezed around the bottom shot and lowered in at the head of the swim. This practise was known as cupping.
The final piece of the poler’s kit was the black box or ‘throne’. This served as both seat and tackle carrier, often bringing back the days catch as well. It must be remembered that these were the days of no keep-nets and freshwater fish of various species fed many hungry families. Even fish like gudgeon were a popular dish.
The pole angler was often referred to as a ‘banker’, because he only fished from the bank, but other names were ‘artist’ or ‘magician’. Magician, because he had the ability to strike at a movement of the float that nobody else could see, and artist, because he could bring roach after roach to the net with an inimitable style.
So, why was the pole such a popular method with London anglers, and why were they sometimes banned from Fenland and Midland matches? Firstly, because of their length, the angler could hold his float out over weed beds and ease his float along their edge, the tip of the pole following just 18 inches above.
When the float dipped, it was just a twist of the wrist and another redfin was on its way to the bank. Fishing in this way, not many bites were missed. The London polers became speed machines and those who fished a running line had great difficulty matching their speed on the Fens.
Sundays on the towpaths on the Lea, Thames and London canals saw large numbers of anglers all fishing with their poles. As the quill dipped, the cockney cry of “got yer” could be heard along the bank as another roach came to the net.
If you would like to know more about London’s pole fishing history, Poles Apart: The History of the London Roach Pole is now available from Coch- y- Bonddu Books. It’s a tremendously interesting read for anyone who is interested in the origins of pole fishing as we know it today.
This information is taken from the Canal & River Trust site, which can be viewed here.
There is also a great video of a traditional float maker called Paul Cook,right here. Worth a watch. (Some stills from the video are shown below).
One element of my fishing tackle that really needed upgrading was my seat box. The last one I had was a wicker one (!), yes, I managed to even bypass the later plastic box that everyone used. There used to be a company called Brilo Box in Lancashire who made some fantastic sweatboxes. They used to custom-make them with whichever combination of drawers you wanted. There were made from sheet aluminium, bonded I believe with something like a Sikaflex adhesive. They had some rivets too, but not too many, as Brilo wanted to stop water ingress. The drawers were wooden. After hunting for ages on eBay, I finally scored a nice one.
Sadly, Brilo are no longer going, but I would very much recommend their boxes, worth snapping one up before the only options are cheap plastic imports.
The Hackney Tools blog celebrates not only the modern makers of east London, but also the rich history of industry that was drawn to the area throughout the 18th-19thc.
This map, drawn by cartographer Adam Dant, shows the variety of industry that occupied the area in the 1912.
“I chose 1912 because it precedes the First World War, when everything changed. It encapsulates Industrious Shoreditch,” explained Adam, “I started off with the major landmarks serving the industries of the time. For the main thoroughfares, I listed the concentrations of manufacturers, using lists of companies from the Post Office Directories. These are complemented by vignettes of people making things, and I filled the border with machines used for wood and metalwork.”
It was the First World War that saw many businesses move further out of London where they could get more space. I’ve seen the hangers-on, the hardware suppliers, the veneer suppliers steadily disappear recently, with sky-high rents and property prices turning the area into something completely different. The factory buildings that once housed men who made things, now house men who work in the City.
Hackney still has enormous creativity within it though. Many books and magazine articles have recently been published showing the new breed of makers and artisans. The area is still a hive to creativity and craft, although now you are likely to find it in a shared workspace or rented studio.
Round the corner from where we live are the Hackney Marshes. A training ground for many a young football player and also a are sanctuary for many forms of wildlife. Paths cross the Marshes from all directions and people use it to the full on the weekends especially, were you will see families from all cultural backgrounds, picnicking, cycling and making their way up and down the canal. We even have a canal boat bookshop that stops by! This post just popped up on the wonderful Spitalfields Life blog and I just had to add a link on my own blog. I never knew scything was still used on the Marshes.