I have a shelf in the corner of my shop where I pile my collection of tape measures. They frequently fall off the shelf, and this past week I finally got tired enough of picking them up off the floor that I put them in order. In the process, I noticed a drawer in a small parts organizer that the tapes had been hiding. The drawer was marked “Knives.” The handwriting, in black Sharpie, was mine, but I didn’t remember putting any knives in that organizer. When I pulled the drawer out I immediately recognized one of the knives in it. “Oh, there you are,” I said out loud as one does when finding a member of the family in an unusual place in the house. It was my marlinespike knife, which had been missing for over ten years. The last time I’d seen it, I had taken it apart to replace the pins holding it together—they had loosened considerably with age. The knife had once belonged to my grandfather, Francis Cunningham, Sr. My grandfather, Francis Cunningham, Sr., dressed for sailing in an outfit that was at once natty and ratty.
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Love that sheepsfoot head on the blade, old school, similar to the knife we reviewed a few months back. Great looking knife with a wonderful story.
I love it when people refurbish useful items, like this knife. I always appreciate ceramic items that are glued back together. Like the knife, it means someone loved them enough to rescue them.
Well done!
R
Those are great memories or your grandfather, and to possess something that belonged to him is extra special.
Nicely done!
Wonderful story!
I have fond memories of my grandfather. I remember I had a sliver in my finger and he removed it with his pocket knife that he always carried. Great story, Chris.
This is great!
Absolutely beautiful. Restorations that preserve the history of an object and revive functionality are wonderful. The visual and tactile evidence of well-loved use combined with the family memories are all so special. Also, they really don’t make ’em like the used to.
I have some hand tools like a rasp, chisel or two, that belonged to my grandfather who died shortly before I was born in the 1950s. I know that part of the patina in those old wooden handles comes from the hands of a man I never knew. And somehow part of him lives on when I use one of these tools. Wonderful article.
A man after my own heart. It is so satisfying to be able to return to good use things that most people would consign to the rubbish pile. I particularly like your trick of beveling the end of the pin that bears against the tensioning spring.
Really nice, Chris. I hope the 4th generation can appreciate the nail bail!
I am sure that those of us lucky enough to able to be third- and fourth-generation tool users and or renewers know the deep satisfaction found there, and have pleasant memories sparked by this story.
Thanks!
Very satisfying project. Thanks for the tip on the kick. I need to stone the kick on my Dad’s old Case Doctor knife I keep alive using some of your techniques. It has lost about a half inch of blade length over the years from sharpening and the tip is beginning to become exposed. You do nice work.
Great story, thank you for sharing!
As a professional sharpener, I would recommend a rust eraser available from professional sharpening supplies. It will quickly restorer cutlery as well as hand tools.
Chris,
Delightful story, reminded me of Kintsugi, the Japanese art of putting broken pottery back together with gold. The idea is to embrace flaws and imperfections to create an even stronger and more beautiful piece of art. Your story made me go to my own “knife” drawer to see what I might resurrect from a lifetime of bosun’s knives. Well done, sir!
Thanks, Chris. I like to watch videos about restoring old, rusty tools to shiny, like-new condition, but I thought it best for the knife to look its age. The appreciation of flaws and imperfections you mention, as well as transience, are at the heart of the Japanese aesthetic of wabi-sabi, one of the things from my college classes in Zen that has stayed with me.
I love knife stories. My father’s rigging knife was a mid-century stainless type with a beautiful leather sheath but it did not stand the test of time. The blade snapped due to corrosion but I keep it in my desk drawer nonetheless for the memories.
That picture of your grandfather hollers loud the word “legend.”
Hi, Chris,
When I saw this article, I immediately thought about my own old rigging knife which I repaired in a similar manner probably 25 years ago. It’s a Wichard stainless knife with luminescent handles, originally riveted together with copper which failed after 10-15 years of use. I used short lengths of wire salvaged from coat hangers, which still hold the knife together fine and its still one I reach for when a knife is needed, but exposure to sea water has caused the steel pins to rust in place, so the knife doesn’t snap open as it used to any more, and the spring doesn’t work as firmly as it once did.
I guess you could look at this as a cautionary tale, if you wish. Enjoyed the article and the history as well.
Wandering back in the magazine, I found your article “Lost and Found” about rebuilding an old folding knife. I have the same knife, although in better shape than your original. I’ve had it many years and probably bought it Port Angeles, Washington, in 1966-1967 when I was stationed at the Coast Guard Air Station there. At some point I chipped out a bit of the wood, but no matter, it works well and loves being in my tool bag.
Great story! My Grandfather died when I was in junior high. I kind of knew him, but I didn’t really know him. Now the beautiful pocket watch that he carried hangs on my desk. The first thing I do every morning is wind that watch. Out in the workshop I have several tools that belonged to him, and I use them often. A tack hammer and a set of three squares, with wooden stock and steel blade, are the tools I use most. I also have a couple of his wedges for splitting firewood. I make it a point to take a few swings at them every year, even though most of my wood is split with hydraulics. The only time I ever saw him was at family gatherings, so it’s interesting to imagine what his day-to-day life might have been like. Thank you for sharing this story.
This is one of my favorite articles I’ve read in Small Boats, a perfect blend of how-to and nostalgia.