Against Dipping

This is the second time I go through this. An interesting nib, a modern flexible —or at least semi-flexible— nib that seemed all right in the shop... Then, at home, it turned out to be a total failure.

Pilot Custom 742, falcon (FA) nib, size 10.
In the shop. At home.

The first conclusion is clear: dipping the pen is not the same as inking it.

Dipping does not make the ink to go all the way through the feed from the ink deposit. Dipping only makes the ink to arrange itself along the ink-lines in the feed. Therefore, not much is known about the flow the feed provides. And if the nib run dry, more dipping is in order in the assumption that there was no more ink available, which is not necessarily the case.

Stipula T, titanium nib.

Filling the ink deposit (or attaching an ink cartridge) is, of course, the real McCoy. The ink must really go through the whole network of channels at the right speed to provide the right flow, as demanded by the nib.

Few merchants, however, allow this real test. Any alternative? Check the internet in search of pen reviews and references on those objects of desire. In the meantime, I fully distrust any modern flexible or semi-flexible nibs. The art of making proper feeds seems to be lost.

(Pilot Custom 74 SM, Atelier Yamada – Pelikan Turquoise)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, January 3rd, 2011)
[labels: Pilot, Stipula, plumín]

Reputation

Some personal opinions today:

Fountain pens, as we know them today, are an American invention. The first relevant patents on these devices were filed in the US, and the main successful companies belong to that country—we all know Waterman, Parker, Sheaffer, Conklin…

Two Mabie Todd: and American lerver filler, top, and an English eyedropper.

Some American companies created branches in Europe –Mabie Todd, Parker, Waterman—while some European companies started their activities—Simplo, Osmia, Pelikan… But the reference in quality was still American.

A Japanese Swan no. 5, not affiliated with the American-British company.

Japanese pen companies, on their side, became active in those same years, albeit with a less relevant American influence. And after nearly a century of manufacturing, these companies are among the most active in the world.

Pelikan M1000.

Nowadays, American companies have lost most of their luster after years of decline, and their past prestige in now in the hands of European, and mostly German, companies. It is worth to notice, too, how independent nib manufacturers are now German and how American companies buy them for their pens instead of looking for nibs in their own market.

Montblanc 114.

In the meantime, Japanese companies continue making some of the most interesting pens, with the widest variety of nibs, in the market.

Three different music nibs by two different Japanese manufacturers: Platinum and Pilot. More information on chronicles Ongaku and Encore.

So, from my point of view, the reference of fountain pens has shifted from the US to Europe. But it should have moved in the opposite direction—to Japan.

(Súper T Olimpia – Diamine Acqua Blue)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, January 2nd, 2011)
[labels: mercado]

BCHR

BCHR is the acronym for Black Chase Hard Rubber. In other words, a description for many a pen from the end of the nineteen century and beginning of the twentieth. Hard rubber –ebonite was a commercial name— is a polymer formed by the vulcanization of rubber and sulfur. Its hardness and its ease to being mechanized made it suitable for pen manufacturing. Finally, embossing was the typical procedure to decorate the otherwise black material.


This pen is a BCHR whose only identification is the engraving on the barrel: “THE QUEEN / YOUNG MFC. CO. FITCHBURG, MASS”. Nothing I have found about this company.


This seems to be a rather usual pen from the early years in the twentieth century. The basic eyedropper filling system contrasts with the modern looking nib—a springy 14 K gold warranted with no additional brand. Dating it more precisely is beyond my knowledge.


This pen is in perfect working condition and shows no abrasion on the chasing.

(Waterman CF – Sailor Red Brown)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, January 1st, 2011)
[labels: The Queen]

ED (II)

The final point of the previous chronicle was that a number of cartridge/converter pens could easily be transformed into eyedroppers. And some people, myself included, have made that transformation with some pens.


So, if that is so easy, why do pen companies not market such pens directly? Well, there is at least one such pen in the market—the Stipula model T.


This pen fulfills all three conditions—tight thread with a sealing gasket, no holes in the barrel, no metallic parts in contact with the ink. And this pen can use cartridges and converters. Therefore, as some fellow Fountain Pen Network member said, this pen combines THREE different systems, because not all pens using cartridges accept converters!


This simple strategy certainly raised some eyebrows among pen enthusiasts—it increased the appeal of a pen whose nib is indeed interesting. But that will be the topic of another chronicle.

(Pilot Super 200 – Visconti Sepia)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, December 31st, 2010)
[labels: soluciones técnicas, Stipula]

ED (I)

Once dip pens became obsolete with the invention of reliable feeders to control the ink flow the problem to store the ink in the pen became evident. A primary option to become the ink deposit is, naturally, the pen body. And that is the essence of an eyedropper (ED) pen: a hollow body connected somehow with the feed and therefore with the nib. To fill the deposit, simply detach the barrel from the section and put some ink inside the former with the help of an eyedropper or, nowadays, a syringe.

Three Swan pen. The first one is a lever filler Mabie Todd made in the US; the second, a British eyedropper; the third, a Japanese eyedropper with safety valve.

Such was the filling mechanism –by the way, is that a self-filling system?— in most pens by the end of the nineteen century. Further technical evolution changed the filling procedures into either piston systems or sac-based devices. However, eyedropper pens have survived all these years, especially in Japan.

A Japanese jumbo pen with Nakaya nib. An eyedropper with safety valve. Some more modern jumbo eyedroppers can be seen on the chronicle entitled Ink Tankers.

On top of that, lately there seems to be a revival of eyedroppers. A common complaint among pen users is the small capacity of cartridge and converters –the system of choice in modern pens—, and of many self-filling systems. As a result, many of us turned our eyes to eyedroppers, new and old. And to possible conversions of cartridge/converter pens into the old unsophisticated system.

Little is needed for such transformation: A barrel without holes, a good fitting thread between barrel and section (more on this, later), and the absence of metallic parts in direct contact with the ink other than the inevitable nib. This last point, that some consider of little relevance, is demanded by those afraid of the possible corrosion the ink might generate on those metals.

Elastic gaskets (synthetic rubber and silicone o-rings) and water-insoluble grease (petroleum jelly, for instance) come in handy to seal the threads closing the barrel against the section, thus avoiding embarrassing problems.

A plastic Kaweco Sport. It has no metal parts inside the barrel. There is a demonstrator version particularly well-suited to become an eyedropper.

There are a number of pens on the market apt for this conversion. The lack of metal parts is often associated to inexpensive writing tools, and, therefore, not much is lost in case the conversion went terribly wrong.

A Platinum Preppy. With the help of an o-ring, this pen was transformed successfully into an eyedropper.

A Pilot Calligraphy (Plumix in other markets). Another pen suitable for transformation into an eyedropper.

Pilot’s Petit-1, Plumix/Calligraphy, Vortex, and even Parallel Pens; Platinum’s Riviere and Preppy: Kaweco’s plastic Sport model; Daiso’s mini model; are all suitable candidates for this experiment.

The benefits? An enormous ink reservoir. And a fun time.

(Waterman CF – Sailor Red Brown)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, December 30th, 2010)
[labels: soluciones técnicas, Japón]

Adjustable

The two nibs I am showing today belong to two very different pens. But both of them are very similar in their exoticism—these nibs can be adjusted in their stiffness.

Wahl-Eversharp Doric.

The older one belongs to a Wahl-Eversharp Doric, a true classic American pen from the 1930s.

The plate acts like a zipper on the nib. Closed, on top, the tines cannot open. Open, on the bottom, the tines can give under pressure.

The small piece on top of the nib slides up and down along the slit. Placed on the bottom end, the nib is very rigid. On the upper end, the nib –free from the constraint— shows its maximum flexibility. This nib's system was patented by Wahl-Eversharp in 1932.

Pilot Justus. The model number was FJ-1000R-B. That shows its price was JPY 10,000.

The Pilot Justus’s nib does exactly the same. This time, however, the pen owner does not need to stain his hands—the sliding plate is operated through a rotating ring inserted in the section.

The plate on the nib works simply by adding some resistance to the natual flexibility of the tines. this mechanism is less sophisticated than that of the Wahl-Eversharp.

The knurled ring acting on the plate, and the indication showing how to make the nib Harder or Softer.

The Pilot Justus on these pictures was manufactured in 1993 (December). This model reached some markets outside Japan.

The Pilot nib was manufactured in 14 K gold, on December 1993.

My thanks to Mr. Álvaro Romillo (Wahl-Eversharp Doric) and to Mr Nozue (Pilot Justus).

(Waterman CF – Sailor Red Brown)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, December 29th, 2010)
[labels: Wahl-Eversharp, plumín, Pilot]

Super 200 (Small Nib)

Review of the Pilot Super 200 with small F or EF nib.

The Super range of pen, I already said on these chronicles, were the Pilot workhorse during the 1950s. They were the last complete line of Pilots implementing a self-filling system. The next generation of pens, already in the 1960s, were cartridge/converter pens.

Pilot Super pens came in a variety of nibs including music, falcon (flexible) and script (rigid) nibs. The pen under examination today is a Super 200 with a small size fine nib.

I bought this pen at a flea market in Tokyo for about a couple of euros. Some work it needed—the filling system had disappeared and the pen had to be inked with a CON-W converter.



1. Appearance and design. (8.0/10)
This is a classic looking pen in black with golden ornaments. The nib in 14 K gold is of the nail type. The filling system is a quarter turn lever operating the sac.

Design wise, this is a conservative pen, but a lot more interesting that the current Pilot workhorse—the Montblanc looking Custom series. And this is a self-filler!


2. Construction and quality. (8.5/10)
This pen was made in 1960, according to the nib engraving, and the materials still keep their original look despite the heavy use this pen undertook. The cap still fits perfectly both when closing the pen and posted on the barrel.

The disappearance of the original filling system might due to not knowing that sacs could be replaced. After the restoration, the pen works perfectly.

The name of a previous owner engraved on the barrel.

3. Weight and dimensions. (8.5/10)
Medium sized pen. Very well balanced either posted or unposted. The possible inconveniences to use this pen do not belong to this department.

Dimensions:
Length capped: 134 mm
Length open: 119 mm
Length posted: 146 mm
Diameter: 11 mm
Weight: 17 g


4. Nib and writing performance. (7.0/10)
This pen is equipped with a fine or extra fine 14 K gold nib. It is slightly springy and fairly wet. It always starts right away with no hint of drying up.

The nib. No indication of the point on it. Just the brand, Pilot, the Japan Industrial Standards logo, and the production date, December 1960.

The nib’s look is not attractive—this is small nib with no interesting design or engraving.

All in all, it is a nicely reliable nib, correct not enticing. Nothing to call home about.

The feed.

5. Filling system and maintenance. (8.0/10)
This is a self-filling pen. The sac is contained inside a steel cylinder. A plastic lever pushes the plate pressing on the sac. This is a reliable system whose only maintenance is the periodic replacement of the sac. Disassembling it, should the pen require a deep cleaning, is very simple—the metal sheath is removed by pulling it from the section, and the sac is elastically attached to the feed.

Therefore, maintenance, although a bit harder than in a cartridge/converter pen, is easy.

The filling system in another Pilot Super.

6. Cost and value. (--/10)
This is a difficult element to evaluate. As I said, I bought this pen for almost nothing, and I had to work on it for some time looking for the missing parts. This, of course, is not the regular way to get to a pen like this.

Therefore, I will skip this point.


7. Conclusion. (40/50=80/100)
Interesting pen from the historical point of view—Pilot relied on the Super line for some years, and the quarter turn filling system is specific of these pens. However, this pen is not particularly attractive in any feature—regular nib, regular looks.

(Pilot Super 200 – Visconti Sepia)

Bruno Taut
(In exile, December 27th, 2010)
[labels: Pilot]