If you want to build a tool chest and you need some dominatrix-style “encouragement” to get it done inside of a week, then listen up.

There are about five spaces open in my tool chest class in August at the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking. This fantastic little school is located behind a Woodcraft store in Manchester, Ct. Run by furniture-maker Bob Van Dyke, this class attracts the creme de la creme of instructors. (This is code for: I should not be allowed to teach here.)

Take a look at the instructors.

OK? Wow, I know. So if you are ready to slum with me in Manchester, here’s what I can promise you: You will complete your tool chest. You will have some of the best dang pizza on the planet. You will have the opportunity to drink many adult beverages and talk shamelessly with other wood nerds about hand tools and woodworking.

Plus, the wood you use for your chest will be extraordinary. Bob Van Dyke, who runs the school, has the finest taste in wood and grain selection. The last time I taught there I was simply blown away by the stock we all got to work with.

So if you are free the week of Aug. 5-9 of this summer, give it some thought.

You can read more about the class here. You can register here.

— Christopher Schwarz

It turns out that the Dutch Tool Chest I recently finished is a little larger than I needed.

Fully loaded with the tools I take on the road, it still had room for more. And it weighs only 116 pounds. That’s easy for two people to lift, and it is something I can lift with only a grunt or two.

The chest can also take a hard knock – the fully loaded chest tool a spill off the sawhorses today during weigh-in. The tools and chest took the hit with a lot of grace (yay, ductile iron!).

The top bin of the chest is where I’m sure most of you will be looking. The bench planes are separated by 3/8”-thick dividers. The till for the backsaws creates three compartments at the rear of the top bin. The left compartment is for tools you need all the time (pencils, knives, mallet etc.). The other two bins are for tools that might not see action every few minutes (feather files, dovetail markers, extra small drill bits etc.).

On the two shelves below are the rest of the tools – all the moulders and joinery planes, augers, hammer, carving tools, rasps, hand drill, brace and so forth. The delicate tools are protected by tool rolls. The other tools are cushioned by the tool rolls.

I’d rather have every tool have a discrete spot – wouldn’t we all? – but I know that the open architecture will be to my advantage until… whenever.

Also worth noting: Ty Black (my shop assistant) sewed up a canvas cover for the chest. I got that idea from my research into campaign furniture – chests would often have a fitted canvas cover. My cover is designed to protect both the chest and my car from damage.

The hinges are from Lee Valley and are temporary – I’ll replace them when some blacksmith-made ones arrive. I had to install these so the chest could make a trip to Columbus on Saturday morning to talk to the central Ohio woodworkers’ club. If you want to see the chest in person and are a member of the club, please stop by. I’ll have a special guest with me (it’s not Ty – he already has an obligation that day).

— Christopher Schwarz

When measuring my car and drawing up the plans for my first Dutch chest, I forgot two things: the handles and the caster assembly.

Which means, as you probably can guess, that the chest does not fit in my car.

After considering all the options – remake the handles, saw the chest in two like a lady at a magic show, going to Home Depot and buying tool bags – I concluded it would be faster (and more fun) to build a smaller Dutch chest.

This one is a mix between the first chest, some other historical examples and one that Roy Underhill owns that I examined last year (read about that chest here).

I also took the opportunity to try some different things in this chest.

1. The top has clamps (breadboard ends). I did this – instead of battens – to make a sawtill that was lower in profile.

2. The removable front panel has battens that extend beyond the bottom edge of the panel. These allow me to use a simpler locking mechanism (more on this later).

3. I used wrought nails from blacksmith Peter Ross. My one-word review: Dang.

Anyway, I’m going to paint this sucker today and will talk more about it in a bit.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Also, I’m going to build a lower unit for this chest – a la campaign furniture – after a suggestion from a reader.

I finished painting my downsized Dutch chest last night (yes, this one fits in my car thanks for asking), filled it up with tools and started work with it today.

As you can see I made some small changes to the interior. And I have one more thing I might add, if I can hold my nose hard enough. More on that in a moment.

Some changes:

1. Low-profile iron chest lifts instead of mahogany handles. The mahogany handles (and casters) are what got me in trouble in the first place. These iron lifts are new old stock (NOS) iron handles off eBay – $5 each. They are bolted through the case to make them stronger.

2. Leather accessories. My shop assistant, Ty Black, sewed up some pockets for my block plane and marking tools. These were made from scraps from our Roorkhee chair adventure. (If you would like to hire Ty to make you anything except bondage apparel, send him an e-mail at ty.black@gmail.com.)

3. Slightly different dividers for the handplanes, and a smaller holder thingy for the backsaws.

4. A more capacious (Megan word) tool rack. The 1/2”-diameter holes are now on 1-1/8” centers instead of 1-1/2” centers. It makes a huge difference.

The biggest change is there is only one compartment behind the removable front. Surprisingly, I can get the same amount of tools in this smaller chest thanks to some nip and tuck action.

Finally, I left just enough space at the top of this lower compartment to put… a … (gags a bit) drawer.

Or, as I like to call it, a shallow sliding tray. This will be to hold all the flipping drill bits I have to travel with to build benches and furniture. I really dislike drawers on principle because I tend to fill them with random junk so I can hide it away. But several original Dutch chests feature a drawer in this position and so I am (probably) going to try one.

Anyway, if you want to see this chest and the miniature bench I just finished, be sure to stop by Highland Hardware in Atlanta next weekend. I’ll be there for the free Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event and then teaching a class next Sunday on building wooden layout tools.

Details are here.

— Christopher Schwarz

Yesterday I put the finishing touches on my traveling Dutch tool chest: strap hinges and a hasp made by John Switzer of Black Bear Forge.

Of course, the metalwork looks fantastic and correct on this old-style piece. But beyond the outward appearance, these hinges reminded me of why it’s always nice to work with a blacksmith on a furniture project.

First, I was able to get straps and a hasp that were perfectly scaled to the piece. I couldn’t find manufactured straps that had leaves where both were the lengths I wanted.

Also, Switzer was able to make the hinges and hasp so they worked perfectly with my lid, which is at a 30° slope. The hasp comes down at 30° and stops just where it should. The hinges lift up just past 90° and stop – I don’t need a chain or leather strap to prevent the lid from flipping back.

Switzer also supplies slot-head screws that are exactly the same color as the hardware. So installing all the hardware on this chest took about 30 minutes – instead of a whole day of stripping, cleaning, grinding, filing and tweaking to get commercial stuff to fit and suit my (admittedly) picky tastes.

And the price was fair for this level of work – $260 delivered for the two hinges and hasp.

Having this chest complete is a huge relief – I drive to Highland Hardware in Atlanta on Thursday for the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event and to teach a one-day class. If you’re in the area, come by and check out the chest and hardware – plus I’ll bring my Milkman’s Workbench.

And if you need some custom iron hardware, I can highly recommend Switzer. I’ll be knocking on his digital door again real soon.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Before I forget: This Dutch chest – fully loaded – tips the scales at 98 pounds, or about 44-1/2 kilograms for our metric friends.

Narayan Nayar has revived his long-slumbering blog, etherfarm.com. Narayan is a frequent contributor to Lost Art Press products – he’s photographing the H.O. Studley chest, he created the chapter-opening photos for “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” and has helped me gain 10 pounds.

Narayan’s blog will surely cover woodworking, food and photography. So if you like any of those things, check it out.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I teach woodworking classes, I am sometimes asked the following question: Do you consider yourself first a writer or a woodworker?

I don’t have an answer to that question. I have to do both things just about every day to feel human. And so I usually answer the question by saying: I don’t know. But right now I’m… (pick one) thirsty, tired, bloated, crampy, malodorous or oblong.

But today I was tired. Only tired (and a little oblong).

This evening we wrapped up five days of building “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” at the Melbourne Guild of Fine Woodworking in Australia. This is, hands down, the furthest that all the 12 students have come to completing the project. Almost all of the students had their lids glued up and were adding the dust seals when we called it quits. A couple students still had to glue up their lids, but that was more by choice than because it was 5 p.m.

There are two reasons we made it so far. First, I changed a couple simple things about the course with the dovetail layout and the cutting that saved us almost an entire day. Read my blog entry here for more details on that.

Second, the students were relentless. It was honestly unlike anything I had seen before in any class. They worked like dogs during the day (barely stopping for lunch) and we had to shoo them out in the evening. Also notable: They saw, hammer and plane much faster than Americans, Canadians or Europeans. Faster is not always better, but their swifter pace was noticeable.

So now I am about 90 percent prone in my hotel room with a beer from Coopers Brewery at my side. Tomorrow I’m off to a meeting of the Hand Tool Preservation Association of Australia and then to visit the shop of toolmaker Chris Vesper.

It’s all enough to make you “dry as a dead dingo’s donger” (my new favorite idiom) and need a second beer.

— Christopher Schwarz

Question: What made you decide that you liked the Dutch tool chest design in favor of the one in “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest?”

Answer: I don’t prefer the Dutch chest.

This Q&A was repeated at least 20 times on Friday and Saturday during the Lie-Nielsen Hand Tool Event in Cincinnati, Ohio. I had brought the Dutch chest so people could examine it and get a feel for how it works. I’d also brought an English-style chest, which was filled with Lost Art Press books.

So here is a list of the advantages and disadvantages of each style of chest.

Portability: The Dutchman Wins
With an overall size of 27” wide x 13” deep x 26” high, the Dutch chest fits on the backseat of almost any vehicle and can be strapped in with a seat belt. I can easily lift and carry the chest myself. The full-size English chest is 40” wide x 24” deep x 26” high. It takes two people to move it, and you have to have a truck, utility vehicle or station wagon to transport it.

My smaller traveling English tool chest can be handled (barely) by one person and fits in many cars. But it is still not as easy to move as the Dutch.

Ease of Construction: Point, Dutchman
The Dutch chest takes me about 16 hours of shop time to build (including the paint). It has only two dovetailed corners. The rest of the joinery is dados, tongue-and-groove, glue and screws. It can be built with dimensional pine and requires only one panel glue-up (for the lid).

The English chest takes me about three times as long to build because there is so much more wood and everything is dovetailed and nailed. It’s a major project that requires a lot of wood and considerable time to complete.

Durability: One for the English
Though I haven’t tested either chest into the ground, past experience tells me that dovetails will last longer than screws. The English chest really is designed to last forever. The bottom bits are designed to be replaced when they rot out. The orientation of the joints on the skirts are designed to hold the chest together even if the glue fails.

The Dutch chest is solid enough, but it’s not designed to take the same level of punishment as the English chest. If the bottom rots out, I’ve got to rebuild the chest. If the screws rust and the glue fails, lots of things are going to come loose.

Looks: I Like the English
The Dutch chest isn’t ugly – several people at the Lie-Nielsen show said they preferred the looks of the Dutch chest. But to my eye, the English chest is beautiful. I like the shadow lines created by the skirts and raised-panel lid. I’ve experimented with adding more visual interest to the Dutch chest with some success, but it still looks like a grain bin to me.

Utility: Tie
While the English chest holds more, the Dutch chest holds enough and makes it easier to move your stuff around. Getting to all the tools in the Dutch chest is easy if you put the chest on a sawbench. You don’t have to prop up the English chest, and its lid is another working surface in the shop.

And so this morning I brought my Dutch chest into the shop and removed every tool. I wiped them down with a woobie and put them back into place in the English chest. I know some of you out there are going to say this is an onerous task task, but it’s not. Whenever I travel, I have to clean all the tools and put them back in order. (I allow all my students to use my personal tools, and so they get a lot of use.)

So the bottom line is that I’m glad I have the Dutch chest because I am on the road teaching for about 13 weeks out of the year. And the Dutch chest makes travel easy. But when I come home, I’m always happy to see my English chest with its open lid, waiting to get back to work.

— Christopher Schwarz

P.S. Megan Fitzpatrick, the editor of Popular Woodworking Magazine, says my story on Dutch tool chests should be in the October 2013 issue of the magazine. There are no promises in the magazine world, but that’s the word today.

“This or that quiet place, the home of peace, was turned into a ghastly battle-field, with the naked and maimed corpses of trees lying about. Bad enough, all this was. Still, trees might grow again; the hollows might recover their woodland privacy and peace for other generations to enjoy. But what would never be recovered, because in fact War had found it already all but dead, was the earlier English understanding of timber, the local knowledge of it, the patriarchal traditions of handling it.”

— The Wheelwright’s Shop by George Sturt (Cambridge, 1948)

(Image from “Four and Twenty Toilers” [1900] by Francis Donkin Bedford [1864-1954]. Image from Jeff Burks. Download the full book here.)

I am wed and bred to the traditional tool chest. I’ve been working out of one since 1996 and have no plans to suddenly switch to storing my tools in stacking rubber boxes.

Sure, I’ve experimented with other systems (like when I experimented with lesbianism in college). But after giving them a year or two in parallel with my tool chest, I always went back to the warm embrace of of the big floor chest by my workbench.

If you hate tool chests, that’s cool with me. But you need to come up with a way to hold your tools that makes it easy to work at the bench. Since publishing “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” I’ve been asked about once a month to please, please, please design a wall-hung tool cabinet that is the equal of a floor chest.

Now that I’m juggling two book projects, I’m really not equipped to design a complicated piece of tool storage and give it a real-world test. But perhaps you are.

When I consider tool storage, here is a list of the things that are important to me. Other woodworkers at the extremes (French-fitting neat-nicks and those who are casual about tool care) will disagree. That’s cool. Write your own book.

1. Tools protected from rust, dust and damage. I spent a lot of time fixing up tools or saving up the money to buy my tools. So I’ll be damned if I’m going to let them rust or get cruddy. Good tool storage should keep the tools protected. Period. This is why I don’t like open tool racks (which I’ve experimented with a lot). The tools on the open racks are more likely to get rusty or (more important) go missing.

2. All tool can be grabbed instantly or by moving one sliding/swinging layer in front. Your tool system should not be a Chinese puzzle box. H.O. Studley’s toolbox is cool, but it is a tool-storage nightmare.

3. Tools aren’t obscured from view in drawers. When tools go into drawers, they seem to disappear from memory. I like tools in the open because of this simple fact: When you can see all your tools your memory about their location is much improved. I have to nudge my marking knife to grab my carpenter’s pencil, so it’s easy for me to remember where the knife is – I’ve seen it 100 times that day.

4. The storage is flexible without distinct spots for everything. I tried French-fitting my tools. It was a chore to make all the little racks and holder bits. Then I decided I wanted the shoulder plane somewhere else and so I had to change it all.

5. The tools should be in smallest space possible. When your tools are in a compact area you won’t have to walk across the shop to pick them off the rack across the room. It’s all right there, just within arm’s reach.

6. The storage should be inexpensive and movable. I’d rather buy more wood for furniture. And someday I might have a cooler shop on Russell Street.

This is a quick back-of-the-napkin list. But I think it’s pretty good.

Oh, and it should be black.

— Christopher Schwarz

When I make a DVD, the producers always give me a certain number of free copies to give to my mom or (in the case of some really dull DVDs) to use as drink coasters.

As a result, I have 19 copies of “A Traditional Tool Chest in Two Days” sitting on my desk right now that I would rather be somewhere else. I have enough drink coasters.

So we are going to sell these DVDs at half price to our loyal blog readers. Instead of $24.99, you’ll pay $12 plus domestic shipping.

Why did I call it the “traitor’s” tool chest in the title? Read here.

We only have 19 of these. So if you want one, click now or forever hold your mouse.

— Christopher Schwarz

Build this chest (Roy not included)

Because a student had to cancel, there is one spot open in my tool chest class on Aug. 5-9 at the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking.

This is the only opening in a tool chest class until 2014 I believe.

If you can ditch work that week, contact the school’s director, Bob Van Dyke, via e-mail or phone: bobvandyke@sbcglobal.net or 860-729-3186. During this class we’ll be building the chest out of some outstanding Eastern white pine – Bob is a wiz at finding beautiful stock.

And we will be eating at Frank Pepe’s pizza. A lot. Perhaps until I am sick.

— Christopher Schwarz

The real challenge in teaching a class on “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” is this: How can I make woodworkers cut dovetails as fast (and accurate) as possible?

When I first began teaching tool chest classes, we weren’t able to glue up the carcases until late, late Wednesday night or Thursday. Then it was a mad rush to get the rest of the chest completed.

Since then I have learned to put away the “encouragement whip” and get out the “punishment whip.” (I wonder why women rarely take my classes?)

Today – the second day of the course at the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking – we have a third of the 15 chests glued up. The rest will be glued up on the third day before lunch. This is a frickin’ cake walk.

What has changed? Well, to be honest, I am a poor teacher at best. Honest and true. But I have learned a few tricks from some fantastic teachers. Here are two of them.

1. Teach the information is small, manageable bites. Send students back to their benches to perform one operation. Repeat. This is from Trevor Smith, a high school physics teacher in Troy, Mich. The dude is an amazing teacher. I watched him teach for one day and learned more about teaching that day than in any other time period.

2. If you say it will happen, it will happen. Advice from Doug Dale, one of the outstanding assistants and teachers at Marc Adams School of Woodworking. If you set the goal for the day as “you will finish this particular operation,” then – surprise – the students achieve that goal. Weird.

And there is one thing I bring to the table: debasing the dovetail joint.

I do not treat this joint as a holy relic – St. Christopher’s duodenum. It’s a mechanical joint that is easy to cut if you break it down into small bites (thanks again, Trevor). None of the operations in cutting a dovetail is hard. The only thing that is difficult is being consistent with every operation.

With five chests together today, and all of them looking really, really good, I feel justified in drinking a beer.

— Christopher Schwarz

Several readers have asked how far the students in my tool chest class at the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking got on Friday afternoon.

Everyone got their lids complete. About four or five people got the dust seal on. Honestly, I think every student could have finished both the lid and the dust seal, but everyone was tired and ready to crack open a beer or try a shot of Connecticut moonshine (that is not a typo).

So we spent the last hour just yacking it up.

As for me, I had Carl “Mr. Wonderful” Bilderback assisting me this week, so I was able to finish the entire shell of the chest and get three coats of milk paint on the carcase.

At one point I asked Carl, a retired union carpenter, to give me a hand with the painting. He readily and cheerfully agreed. But then he noted that during his career he always told people he’d “rather have a rat in my mouth than paint something.”

Sorry Carl.

— Christopher Schwarz

The owner of the Connecticut Valley School of Woodworking is selling the tool chest that I built during a class there earlier this month.

The chest is built from clear Eastern white pine. The carcase and skirts are completely dovetailed. The bottom boards and battens are attached with cut nails.

The lid is a mortise-and-tenon frame with a dovetailed dust seal around it.

The carcase of the chest is painted in black milk paint (three coats) and ready to go. The lid is glued up and the dust seal needs to be leveled to the lid. Then it can be painted. The dimensions are as per “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” – about 24″ x 24″ x 40″. It’s a full-size chest, not a traveling version.

The interior is empty. No tills or dividers.

If you are interested in buying the chest and can pick it up at the school in Manchester, Conn., send an e-mail to Bob Van Dyke at Bob Van Dyke at bobvandyke@sbcglobal.net.

Price: The best offer over $500.

— Christopher Schwarz

This week at The Woodwright’s School, we had a new “first” when it comes to making Anarchist’s Tool Chests.

All 10 students (plus the instructor) had their tool chest carcases assembled by the end of the day Tuesday, the second day of class.

To what do I attribute this success?

Good help.

Thanks to Bill Anderson of Edwards Mountain Woodworks and Megan Fitzpatrick of Popular Woodworking Magazine (not to mention Roy Underhill himself), we’ve been able to keep the students on the straight and narrow. Stopping trouble before it starts. Serving them tea. Rubbing their loins with the balms of forbidden trees. And whelming them – not underwhelming, not overwhelming.

— Christopher Schwarz

This morning I walked to a coffee shop in Port Townsend, Wash., to jolt myself awake. And as the barista handed me my cup he looked at my shirt.

“Is that ‘A’ for ‘anarchy?’” he asked.

“Why yes it is,” I replied, forgetting I was wearing an “Anarchist’s Tool Chest” shirt below my hoodie.

“It also could be for ‘anonymous,’” the barista added.

I wish.

The square on the cover of “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest,” is a cute little thing, and it shows up in surprising places, the wall of the Port Townsend School of Woodworking, Rwanda and in students’ tool boxes.

Yesterday, one of the students, Bill, pulled out a set of them that were graduated in size. All of them had different details and joinery. Very cool.

— Christopher Schwarz

I don’t know how many tool chests I’ve built or helped build since 2011 when “The Anarchist’s Tool Chest” was published. But I can tell you this: Every class is both brutal and special.

I finished up teaching my latest tool chest class at the Port Townsend School of Woodworking in Washington state and just landed back in Kentucky. This class was particularly special because my assistant was Rob Campbell, who writes The Joiner’s Apprentice blog.

Though Rob and I have only crossed paths a couple times, we see the world similarly and have built our personal lives around the craft and trying to isolate ourselves from excessive consumption and corporate America.

So it was a huge pleasure to work with him all week, building a project we both knew intimately, and to get the opportunity to swap tips and ideas.

And on top of all that, the students in this class were off-the-hook wacko. And that’s a good thing. During some classes, I have to restrain my humor a bit because it is difficult for some to swallow. These 10 guys were as messed up as I.

If you want to read Rob’s account of the class, check out his entry.

— Christopher Schwarz

I used to have a nice presentation for my students on the different kinds of storage schemes they might consider for their tool chests.

I somehow lost that presentation this year. I deleted it, overwrote it and lit it on fire I suppose.

During the last few months I’ve tried to rebuild that presentation. But until I find some free time to do that, this blog entry will suffice.

Above is a heretofore private little video I shot for a webinar on tool chests. It discusses some storage options. Also, below you will find downloads to two good historic resources you should study before dividing up the interior of your chest.

The first is from Vol. II of “Practical Woodworker,” from my personal collection.

Practical_Woodworker

The second is from “Spons Mechanics Own Companion,” also from my collection.

Spons

Hope these get you started. And apologies to all my students for the delay.

— Christopher Schwarz

Woodworker Matt Czegan sent these photos of his recently completed tool chest. Love the eagle – and the extra detailing on the drawers. I’ve always meant to do something with the panel of my chest’s lid, perhaps a veneered panel or even some parquetry a la Roubo.

Nice work Matt!

— Christopher Schwarz