Cutting wood

Woodwork is all about the art of the cut. You must have seen thousands of wooden joints in your time, but do you know what goes into each cut? If not, read on...

I selected a piece of scrap wood for this task, It won't be seen, all it has to do is work. First I must cut it to size. I take my current favourite tape measure, all woodworkers have their favourite tools. A beautiful chisel, might be made of old fashioned Sheffield Steel, and the planets were in just the right position when it was rolled out, so it takes to the grinder beautifully and hold it's edge almost forever. I find these gems in garage sales and second hand stores sometimes with none or broken handles and get a real buzz from taking unwanted sad looking steel, and turning it back into its original purpose.

But I digress, I measure the gap where this wood is destined to fill and mark out the wood. Every tablesaw holds the rightful place of the centre of the workshop as the most important tool. It is a rare project that doesn't need a tablesaw at some stage. The versatility of the machine is the key here, I can cut a wall panel sized door on it or something as small as a pencil. It does both equally well. For this task I need the crosscut jig. [*1.] I lay the wood on the jig, pull it back and present the cut to the blade, silent and still, it waits for power to set it in motion. Then I position the wood, so the cut is just right, just touching the pencil mark. I then press the wood hard against the crosscut fence, check the position and pull it all back a few mm from the blade. I now lift up the safety cover on the tablesaw switch and press the soft green plastic covering the ON switch. The motor spins up in two stages, a soft whirr followed by a great whine, just before the wheel hits its normal speed, the teeth of the blade disappear. The blur of the blade is awfully deceptive. It looks, vague, insubstantial, soft and harmless. But those tungsten blades are spinning around at three or four thousand complete revolutions per minute, each one powered by a monster three horse power engine. It will slice through a finger or even an arm given the chance. My left index finger's scars are testament to it's power. It was so fast that I didn't feel the pain till after I saw the blood. There was lots of both in the next few minutes. I see my scarred finger pressing against the wood and it reminds me to take care.

Slowly I move the wood into the teeth of the blade. The pitch of the motor changes slightly as the teeth begin the cut. It is as if the wood is disappearing before my eyes. This perfect cut progressed across the wood exactly one bladewidth wide. On completion I check the cut, make sure it is square and then take it to the hole it will fill. It is a little too long, so I take it back to the table saw and set it up against the crosscut sled again. I need a tiny cut, much smaller than the blade width, I expected this, but as every wood worker knows, it is much easier to make a piece of wood shorter than it is to make it longer. I present the wood to the blade and adjust it to one squintillianth [*2] of a mm. About a quarter of the bladewidth looks right and I proceed as before. It is now the correct length. The width of the wood is now the issue.

Removing the jig, I slide the fence [*3] across to about the right spot and press the wood hard against it. I adjust the fence position a couple of times till I am happy. This is the fence that came with the table saw and I am still evaluating it. I have a very expensive fence in storage, that I had on my old saw, it is a sod to install, but I will do it if this one doesn't perform. The motor spins up again and once I am sure it is at full speed I press the wood lengthways onto the fence and slide it into the blade. The cut looks good, I keep the movement smooth and fluid and as the spinning wheel of blood is getting too close to my hand I pick up a push stick [*4] to take the risk for me. The resultant long cut is close to the same width as its mate, but not close enough. I adjust the fence again, and cut each half one and two squintillianths respectively. They are now identical. I have decided that this is how I will sign and date the piece, so I write 'Paul Hannah January 2013' in big letters along one piece.

Putting the pieces in place is very satisfying. The fit is perfect. The words are inside the two pieces of wood and will only be seen if it is dismantled. Such is the lot of woodworkers seeking fame. I did this an hour ago to facilitate putting the hinges onto a mail box lid. Just as a person can be judged by how well s/he treats those who can do him no good, a woodworker is judged by how well he makes those things that will never be seen.

1. A jig is a constructed device that enables certain jobs to be done easily, accurately and repetitively. This one makes cuts across the wood grain.
2. A sqintillianth is a very small width, I am told that several can fit into a mm, but I haven't seen it so I cannot vouch for it.
3. A Fence is a device, on looking like a a long length of boxed aluminium running exactly parallel to the blade. It is used for making long cuts.
4. A push stick is a notched piece of wood or plastic that presses wood into the blade closer than you want your fingers.