I own way too many hand planes. So what did I do? I went and got two more. At the top is a fully-restored 1911 Stanley Bed Rock No. 5 jack plane. At bottom is a 1899-1902 Stanley Type 8 No. 2 smoothing plane, lightly restored.
First, the Stanley Bed Rock. This No. 605 is a bigger plane, made for quickly hogging off lots of wood to get the workpiece ready for smoothing. This one was manufactured in 1911 according to a tool-dating site. No restoration photos this time, but it was far enough gone that I had to take it all the way — Paint stripping, de-rusting, sanding, sanding, and more sanding. Then polishing, painting, etc. The usual deal — Kept me occupied for four or five days.
The tote and knob were solid, they just needed scraping and refinishing. I tried a glossy clear-coat on the wood this time; I like the result. We’ll see how it holds up.
I gave this one the Full Monty.
Some may ask, “What is a Bed Rock plane?” These were introduced around 1900 as a premium addition to the Stanley line. Sort of like Chevrolet and Cadillac.
The Bed Rock system for frog secure/adjustment. Nice.
The big innovation with the Bed Rock line was the way the frog — The angled piece that holds the iron assembly and lever cap in place — is secured to the plane bed and adjusted. There is also more surface contact area between frog and bed, Finally, the frog slides in grooves on either side to keep it squarely aligned with the bed.
Why is that part is called a frog? The best explanation I’ve seen says the term originated in the 1890’s at Stanley Works as a play on words. The frog is located just behind the throat of the plane, and the saying “I have a frog in my throat.” was part of the vernacular of the day, just as it it is now. Over time, the part just became the “frog”.
Anyway, on to what makes these Bed Rock planes different. Instead of the frog being secured to the bed by machine screws, This design uses two vertical pins with conical holes in their sides that engage with two horizontal set screws with conical points. After you set the frog position with the center screw, you tighten the set screws to draw the frog down to the bed.
The beauty of this approach is that you can adjust the frog without removing the iron assembly. And it does work nice and slick.
So how much better is this plane that a regular Stanley Bailey type plane? It’s an amazing tool. These guys really knew how to engineer and make their products fit human anatomy nearly perfectly. But I’d rate it at maybe 10% better, mostly because the frog is more solidly secured and aligned to the bed, in theory minimizing vibration of the iron. But for most, including me, the difference is hard to tell in practice. And once you have the frog where it needs to be, you hardly ever need to adjust it again. All that said, it’s an awesome tool and I love it.
Stanley made these from 1900 up until 1941. I think they never really caught on because tools were already costly enough for the average worker and the less expensive Bailey type planes did the job equally well for most customers.
The Bed Rock design is still used on some new high-end planes like Lie-Nielson, out of Maine. Their No. 5 jack plane goes for $350. I paid something like $145 plus labor and materials for this one. Good deal.
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Now, here’s the real gem of this diary. This is an 1899-1902 Stanley Type 8 No. 2 smoothing plane. This thing is small, only about seven inches long. I can barely get two fingers around the tote. These are scarce and highly sought-after, and I probably paid more for it than I should have, but what the hell.
Look at that original 120 year-old black japanning. It’s nearly all intact.
That said, I did get a break on the price because there’s a little chip at the left rear end of the bed. It doesn’t affect how the plane works, so no big deal for me.
Wow, look at the shape that japanning and varnish is in. I couldn’t bring myself to mess with it.
The Bailey type plane uses machine screws to secure the frog to the bed.
My intent was to strip it down and refinish it, like the Bed Rock. But when I took a closer look at what I had, the original black japanning is 95%-plus intact. The only real wear is on the frog where your hand contacts it and a few other rub points. I know a guy who could braze in that chip, but the heat would damage that awesomely complete original black finish. I’m leaving it alone. The damage is relatively slight and it records some of the events this tool experienced over its lifetime. I wanted to preserve that history.
There was a good amount of rust and pitting to deal with, though. I tried to do the minimum necessary. There are still some pits, but I’m good with it as I have it. The varnish on the tote and knob was in great condition, and there were no cracks or splits. Nice. I cleaned them up with mineral spirits and slathered them with paste wax and they’re done in 15 minutes.
So, why are these No. 2 planes so rare? Stanley churned them out in industrial quantities for decades. Where did they all go?
One possibility is that these were mainly used in middle-school woodshop classes. We need to remember that 100-plus years ago, knowing how to use hand tools (for boys, at least) was considered to be an essential skill — Carpentry, construction, furniture making and the like were common occupations and the schools of the day emphasized learning a useful trade (for boys, at least..)
When WWII came along, the theory goes that many shop teachers were drafted into military service because of their skill sets. With the woodshop classes empty, most of these planes then ended up being melted down in wartime scrap drives. I have no idea if any of this is true, but it sounds plausible.
Maybe this plane was used in such a shop class back then. I can picture a hapless early 1900’s middle schooler dropping it onto a moving leather drive belt and watching in horror as it cartwheels through the air and hits the floor. The kid could have been a math nerd forced to take the shop class who went on to be a rocket scientist in the Apollo program. Speculation is fun!
In the photos above, you can see that the trauma to the tote and knob happened at the same time as the chipped heel. Could be this one was put away for later repair and forgotten, thus surviving the WWII scrap metal drives. That might account for the extraordinary condition it’s in. Or something completely different happened to it. We’ll never know, but I like my clumsy future rocket scientist hypothesis.
I got this for our seven-year old granddaughter so she could learn some of the basics. Her reaction when I showed it to her was “Meh.” Kids.. Well, maybe she’ll have more interest in a year or three. In the meantime, I have a beautiful little tool with lots of history.
It’s tiny, but it’s still a real, working tool. Stanley made a smaller No. 1 plane, which is even rarer. If you have one, let me know. I could use another plane..
If you’re still reading this, I’m presently working on something special that should be ready by next weekend. It’s not a plane. Stay tuned and stay safe everyone!
