I’m fortunate to be from a generation that was taught woodwork at school (I started secondary school in 1985). Actually we were separately taught both woodwork and metalwork. I enjoyed metalwork, but it was always woodwork that excited me. My memories of warm workshops smelling of wood are something I’ve been trying to re-create ever since. That and the biscuits from the school canteen that had some cornflakes in them and a cherry on top. If you ever find me with a mouthful of biscuits and sniffing a handful of pine shavings, you’ll know I’m in my happy place. No nothing weird, although there’s probably a fetish club somewhere that caters for that.
On each of the identical benches in the school workshop were a basic set of tools. The good stuff was locked in glass-doored cabinets at the front of the room. The double benches were for two pupils, either side of a central tool-well, in which sat a pair of planes. I didn’t know at the time, but I now think these were probably 5 1/4 Junior Jack planes. The basic kit extended onto the ends of the bench, where for each student was a tenon saw, square, mallet and three chisels. The final item, with which we are concerned today, was a bench hook gripped in the Record face vice.
From those early steps in woodwork I learned the significance of the bench hook. There’s been at least one on every bench I’ve had since then. I did have quite a few years without a bench actually, when I gravitated towards the workshop in the basement of the School of Architecture, intended for model-making. Back then the education system seemed to offer workshop spaces all over the place, if you looked for them. I suspect reality is very different today.
I confess I’m slightly ashamed of my current bench hook, which was made quickly from a piece of green MDF with softwood screwed to it. But it does the job and that’s undoubtedly the reason it has survived. Invariably the jigs or tools you knock together in a rush are the ones that hang around for years, to remind you that you really are a shoddy twat. Or you can go with the cobblers children being the last to get shoes, if that Victorian-era saying makes you any feel better. Either way, it doesn’t hurt to be humbled from time to time.
I decided to try a different style of bench hook for my shame-lifting exercise. This type is cut from a single piece of wood, which is appealing as a small project, as well as being an efficient design. After an unintentional summer woodworking sabbatical, I wanted a simple project to ease me back into the flow. When people talk about work/life balance, I don’t think they mean your work is balanced on top of you like a giant boulder, crushing the life out of you. And yet so it is some of the time. With the assurance that comes from being a salaryman, comes also the risk that work spreads like a fungus into private places you don’t want it to. And none of us wants fungus in our private places.
Here we go.
As you can now see, this is a beautifully efficient design (not mine) as there is very little waste and really only four saw cuts to get you there. I made the whole thing in about an hour and a half. I’ll make a second matching one soon, so that I have support for longer workpieces when I need it. I’ll also probably cut away half an inch of the ‘fence’ on the right-hand side so that small crosscuts have some support underneath.
This is a nice all-hand tool project for a rainy afternoon. It requires quite a few techniques, which means even for more experienced woodworkers it’s a good skill workout to stay frosty. By the way, my ever-tolerant wife reverse-engineered the biscuit recipe for me, which is here if you want it. Grab a handful of shavings and be ready to get happy.
So, I followed the link to the biscuits fascinated by the idea of biscuits make with cornflakes - forgetting that we are "one people separated by a common language." I baked the cookies, anyway (minus the candied cherries which I didn't have.) I see why you have fond memories of them. Thank you.
Welcome back. I've been putting off replacing my ancient shitty bench hook for years, I might have to steal this design. My enduring memory from school woodwork was that the planes were only sharpened during the school holidays and there was no way a lightweight like me could get them to cut for most of the time.