Retailer assessment: Baird Brothers

In the runup to Plataea 2022, I found myself in need of several spear handles.  Ten years ago, the cheapest way to get one in the U.S. would've been to order a six-foot tool handle.  Unfortunately, the mail-order market for these appears to be a mess right now, for many reasons I won't go into.  With time running short, I capitulated and ordered from Baird Brothers, a U.S.-based retailer of various wood products.  (Their page for wood dowels is listed under Mouldings.  Here's a direct link.)

The advantages Baird Brothers offer include a good stock, a wide selection of genera (including favorites like ash and hickory), and a wide selection of sizes - you can order dowels up to 12 feet long, and anything up to eight feet can ship by parcel carrier.  They also offer many increments of thickness.  On paper, they are perfect for our needs.

There are two drawbacks:  First, shipping is rather steep - my order of four ash dowels for spear handles and a smaller one for a javelin totaled just over $60 and cost more than half that much to ship.  (On the plus side, delivery to my address in Pennsylvania was pretty quick.)  Second, the company will not select for straightness of grain, not even for an additional charge.

This is the result.  The small dowel and three of the large ones were fine.  The last one had extremely diagonal grain in the first and last third.  This goes far beyond the usual runout seen in cheap tool handles.  A dowel like this is liable to break if subjected to stress.  For the price, one in five pieces turning out to be a dud is very disappointing.  Luckily I still had the handle I'd gotten from Torrington to swap out for it.

Would I recommend Baird Brothers or buy from them again?  Probably - but only because I can't seem to find any other choices in the continental U.S. that aren't more inconvenient.  You can buy tools and learn to make your own or modify the commonly-sold ash spear handles that are too thick, pay even higher prices for martial arts fighting staves, or take a chance with Baird.

Various practical addenda from Plataea 2022

Well, Plataea 2022 ended on Saturday and although there's a lot to be said, I'm limiting myself to some observations to bear in mind about all the stuff I brought out there:

-  A four-inch-wide (internal), eight-foot-long PVC pipe with caps held on by duct tape makes a very protective package for spears, but it's so heavy and awkward (particularly when you already have two suitcases and a rifle case with your bows and arrows in it), and expensive to ship, that I wound up leaving both it and all my spears spears with other reenactors who felt they'd have a use for them and less difficulty/expense transporting them.  I will not travel with spears in the future.  If I send any more to Greece, I'll send them well ahead of time by the cheapest service available and leave them with a trusted friend.

-  Under the (to my Pennsylvanian standards) quite aggressive heat and sun, the film of linseed oil-beeswax sealer I applied on top of the oil paint on my crescent shield softened and rubbed off.  Specifically, the area on top of the dark red ochre-painted part of the shield; the area on top of the white edge was somewhat more resistant (presumably because the film is transparent and the dark paint heated up in the sun faster).  The same mixture used as a paint binder on my new gorytos was also more resistant, but did soften after prolonged exposure, allowing thicker bits to be scraped off.  The rosin-beeswax glue attaching the leather facing of my new akinakes scabbard also softened.  By contrast, anything treated, bound or sealed with only linseed oil or rosin (the ochre paint on the shield, the spear handles, and the sinew wrappings of my arrows) were all fine.  So basically anything containing beeswax was in danger of melting.

-  The buff leather weapon belt performed admirably.  The chrome-tanned belt sagged and became uncomfortable.  I'm not sure whether this is because the holes I punched in the buff belt allowed it to be laced tighter or because it's a thicker leather, but I suspect both.  The belt being nice and snug was definitely helpful.

-  As I suspected, the smaller bow and commensurately smaller gorytos and arrows were much easier to carry.  The search for an accurately Classical-styled bow of less than 36 inches strung continues.

-  The 1/2-inch-thick wooden crescent shield is at least as heavy as larger wicker ones in the same style.  This, too, needs improvement.  I also threw together a round wicker mat with pelta-style grips and a suede facing, which at 16 inches in diameter (about the size of the smallest Scottish targes, and barely large enough to cover my arm from elbow to knuckles with fingers closed around the handgrip) is so light I barely notice I'm wearing it, but I'd have felt much, much better about it if it were crescent-shaped.

-  A 12-ounce ceramic bottle, while convenient to carry, is only around a quarter as much water as I need to drink over the course of a Greek midsummer day in the field.  Also, water left out becomes as hot as the surrounding air in just a few hours.  What I wound up doing was to take a two-liter plastic bottle of water and keep it overnight in the hotel minifridge where it half-froze, wrapped it in spare clothing and kept it in my tent in my suitcase.  That way I could still at least refill my ceramic bottle with slightly cool water by the end of the day.  A proper cooler with ice blocks would've been better.

-  Food must be kept elevated or it will be invaded by ants.  A table of some kind, a crate, a box, anything will help.

Pieced gorytos, part V and last

The final steps were essentially no different from last time.  I put the strung bow in the case and used it to approximate the size and shape of the cover onto folded paper.  The curved top is my guess as to how it should be shaped if I manage to find a more authentically-shaped bow in the future.  I then traced it onto another piece of buckskin.

As with the main body, I stapled the seam at the edges, made the stitch holes with a hobby awl and sewed with heavy linen thread.

The belt attachments are roughly copied from the ones I made last time and are similarly fabricated from 14ga brass, cut with an angle grinder, annealed, and with the top bars expanded by being hammered with a small steel block.

I didn't have enough of the giant upholstery tacks from last time and they were no longer available at the fabric store, so I ordered some 1/2-inch brass tacks from Crazy Crow.  These have an advantage over the upholstery tacks in that, being solid brass, their finish can't be scratched off and the heads won't rust if scratched.  Stephan Eitler offered the quite reasonable alternative that the cord simply passes through a hole or slot in the spine and that what I've been interpreting as the attachment devices are actually ornamental.

The finished gorytos.  There is some difficulty in balancing how far up the spine the cord is attached (so the case will hang diagonally) versus how far down the cover can go (so it can sit partly on the spine instead of just lying on the bowstring and potentially slipping off).  The excess overlap of the cover onto the spine, combined with the square upper corner of the spine and how soft the leather is, explains why the cover appears particularly slouchy.  I may cut a semicircular notch on the upper (folded) side, as appears in some of the Persepolis reliefs and which I did in 2015.

Arm fibulae from Gaukler Medieval Wares

(Alert via Sean Manning, Book and Sword)  Mark Shier of Gaukler Medieval Wares in Canada is now offering a bronze hand brooch of a correct type for the Achaemenid period, so there'll be no need to have one custom-made or try to fabricate one.

Pieced gorytos, part IV

It took much longer for the paint to cure than I expected, as the slight grooves between the plywood face and veneer edge held accumulations that were thicker and took longer to oxidize.  Once this was done, I tried to attach the leather to the spine with pitch glue.  However, I was reluctant to keep the pitch glue melted with the heat gun for fear it would make the veneer edging delaminate.  All this could be avoided if I could figure out how to make a solid wood spine, but in the end, I peeled off the pitch glue, reattached the leather with rubber cement and finally started drilling a few days ago.

The stitching is soft hemp twine from a craft store, which I drew back and forth over a block of beeswax to lubricate it and reduce fraying.  I'm not sure exactly how much I used, but I spooled out about 24 feet more than necessary, which does make the stitching process tedious.

I spaced the stitch holes half an inch apart and marked them with a pen on the leather, then ran the gorytos under the drill press.  The size of the drill bit is dependent on the thickness of the twine.  In this case, a 3/32" bit was just right.  I could lace the first running stitch by hand with care.  After drilling, I scrubbed the sawdust off with a stiff nail brush.

When doubling the running stitch, I had to flatten the end of the twine and put it on a needle.  As the stitch hole was now crowded with the first stitch, I occasionally had to draw the needle through with a pair of pliers, but this became less often necessary as my fingers got sticky with beeswax.

After completing the stitching, I tied the twine off a bunch of times and cut it with about two inches of excess.

The fit is a little more snug than I'd like; I think the string and tip of the bow should not rub against the spine at all, so an extra inch of leather would've been a good idea.  This leather will stretch with time, but whether it will stretch enough is another question.

Anyway, the next step will be to make the belt attachments and then the cover.

Pieced gorytos, part III

I wanted to make the spine from solid wood, but was still concerned with it snapping across the curved part.  Historically, there may have been several solutions to this problem:  The spines may have been very thick and heavy, made of naturally curved branches, boiled or steamed and then bent, made in two crossgrain plies and glued like the one I made in 2015 (which nonetheless did snap when I fell on it), sheathed in metal to reinforce them, actually made of metal, or just treated with great care and/or replaced as soon as they did break.  I have no evidence for any of these methods.

In any case, what I wound up doing was cutting the spine from plywood.  This is, of course, the only method I can say for certain is not historical, but seemed to me the only one feasible at the moment.  I cut it on a scroll saw and smoothed the edges on my mini-belt sander.  Unfortunately, the edges are very clearly plywood and provide an easy entry point for water and grime, so my next step was to apply veneer edging intended for just this purpose.  This is a paper-thin continuous strip of wood with a hot glue backing, which is melted with a clothing iron, heat gun or other source of heat and pressed into place.

I edged the exterior and the interior, which will be rubbing against the bow.  The half-inch veneer edging turned out to be slightly wider than the half-inch plywood is thick, so I next had to trim off the overhang.

After that, I sanded the spine to 320 grit, rounding off all the sharp corners as I went.  This having been done, I still found its appearance unconvincing somehow.  On close inspection, it simply does not look like solid wood.

Ultimately what I've done is covered the whole thing with simple ochre oil paint (except the inner edge, to prevent it from rubbing off on the bow).  This not only masks the grain, but also fills in splintered flaws in the wood and provides some sealing against moisture.  The paint I mixed up was a little thick.  If it turns out to begin crumbling off the surface too easily when cured, I'll rub it down with a little extra oil and/or wax.  Otherwise, it should be roughly another week before I can stitch the main pocket on.

Ancient Iran exhibit at the Getty Villa Museum, Los Angeles

If you're in LA anytime between now and August 8, check out Persia:  Ancient Iran and the Classical World at the Getty Villa Museum in Pacific Palisades.  Thanks to Athanasios Porporis, who brought a Facebook post on the sword of Artaxerxes I to our attention via Ancient Hoplitikon of Melbourne; otherwise, I wouldn't have been aware of any of this.

Polishing rough-finished steel

As noted in my previous post, many spearheads come from the factor with a coarsely ground and blackened finish.  This may be a cost-saving measure, but it's rather unappealing, especially if other your other steel items are already polished.  Here I'm going to try to give a better finish to the AntiqueCraftsShop javelin heads.

I'm starting it on a mini belt sander I recently got on eBay.  Sanding belts used for metal quickly acquire a smooth feel that belies the actual grit (size gradient of the sand) and are permeated with fine metal dust, so they should be kept separate from those used for wood and other materials.

The slightly hollow-ground faces can be sanded with a slow back-and-forth movement over an axle.  If they were a flat diamond grind, I would press the faces against the belt where it runs over the supporting metal shelf.  (This can be done to thin down the secondary bevels, though, since the angle needed to do so means the medial ridge is well clear of the belt.)  Care is needed at this stage not to mess up the medial ridge.  Once it's done, I turn the edges parallel to the belt sander to clean up any hints of unevenness created during this step.

Safety notes:  For some reason this sander's belt is set up to move toward the motor and up from the sanding ledge.  Also, of course, I am only holding the spearhead in one hand to snap the photo; you should always hold anything you are sanding in two hands whenever it's in contact with the belt, not only for safety but also because holding it in one hand often just doesn't work.  And, of course, wear safety goggles whenever using any power tools that grind, cut or drill.  I like chemical splash goggles that wrap against the face, making sure no metal fragments can get in my eyes again.

Sanding on top of the shelf allows you to press down hard on flat or convex surfaces, useful when trying to get rid of deep pits and grind marks.  Moving convex surfaces to the gap between the axle and shelf allows the belt to wrap slightly around the surface, giving a more even finish.

After polishing to 60 (top), 150 (middle) and 600 grit.

Some of the sandpapers used to give the final hand polish.  For this step I am tending to wrap the sandpaper around the back of one finger and use the other hand to rub the spear across it, following the alignment of the the scratches created by the belt sander.  With the blade faces, it's very difficult to follow the sander's marks.  I tend to instead just pinch the paper around the faces with my fingertips and rub the paper parallel to the blade; much easier, though not as effective.

The finished spearheads both illustrate the importance of using as many grades of grit as possible.  Each grade is able to remove grind marks from a slightly coarser grit, while creating new marks of its own, until you're using a grit so fine that its marks are undetectable to the eye (achieving the so-called mirror polish).  The spearhead on the left was initially polished with the 600-grit belt before moving on to finer grades of paper for hand-polishing.  As a result, it still has lots of grind marks and pits with black scale that the belt was unable to reach or remove.  The one on the right, which started on a 60-grit belt, has almost none of the factory marks left, but the jump from 150 to 600-grit left lots of marks from the 150-grit that the 600-grit belt didn't deal with.  These are visible not as black scratches but as bright, sparkly ones.  I'm not sure which one I dislike more.  Either way, the conclusion is clear:  I need to buy more stuff.

Product review: Javelin head from AntiqueCraftsShop

AntiqueCraftsShop is an Etsy-based retailer that sells a variety of items, mostly historical weaponry.  I came across the listing for their Viking Hand Forged Spearhead Medieval Javelin set recently while looking for a lightweight spearhead that would be acceptable for our time period.

As you can see, it has a similar rough-ground and blackened appearance to the Lord of Battles spearhead.  Given that both companies' products appear to be Indian-made, I wouldn't be surprised if some of the same cottage industry workers produced items for both companies, but that's speculation.

I was, however, pleasantly surprised to find that the AntiqueCraftsShop javelin head is much closer to its retail photos and specifications.  On my postage scale, the points weigh a hair over 5 ounces/142 grams, and they measure 20.5 and 21cm long, actually a tiny bit lighter and shorter than the official specs.  The kite shape is a good match for some of the spearheads from Deve Hüyük and the diamond grind is acceptable.  The length is too short and thus they're proportionally a little squat, but at this late stage, I'm willing to overlook that.

More importantly, the points are decently symmetrical, have straight centerlines, and the edges are slightly convex.  They're not perfect, but they're a far cry from the sloppy quality control suggested by the Lord of Battles piece, and more than good enough for my purposes.

A few drawbacks:  As far as the spearhead itself goes, the rough finish is quite ugly.  Luckily I now have a belt sander and should be able to clean it up pretty quickly.  It also lacks a pin hole, which would help affix it more securely to the shaft.  I may be able to add one by grinding a pit with a round Dremel cutter and then finishing with a drill press, but if the steel is hardened, that may be very difficult.

With regards to the seller, AntiqueCraftsShop doesn't appear to sell items singly, so you have to buy at least two if not more.  They seem to have a limited supply of each item as well.

On the whole, I think this has been a worthwhile purchase, and I hope to finish and haft both of them to bring to Plataia this year.

Pieced gorytos, part II

After about a week and a half, the paint was completely cured.  I moved onto the next step, stitching the arrow pocket.

Instead of glue, I kept the arrow pocket in place this time with staples.  This is a bit destructive, but easier than using a period glue, and ancient people could easily have achieved the same thing with pins.

The pocket is attached to the back with 40-weight waxed linen thread using a simple double running stitch and pulling out the staples as I went.  Its long edges are brought together slightly to give the pocket the fullness needed to accommodate arrows, particularly the large, blunt rubber arrowheads we use during combat reenactment.  This means some ugly crimping on the short edge.  I tried to distribute the slack evenly during the stapling process, but it wound up a little uneven.

The lower edges of the body panels are carefully lined up and stapled first at both ends, then in the middle, then equidistant between these three and so on.  I wound up using nine staples in this manner; given the length of the edge, they seemed to be the right distance apart.  Note that some of the linseed oil seems to have soaked into the leather.  Time will tell if this is going to be a problem.  The paint doesn't scratch or rub off easily, so I think the paint itself will hold.  Whether the oil will have a negative effect on the leather is another question.

I'd meant to stitch the lower edge completely flat, but it seemed to develop slack as I moved from the upper end to the lower and I wound up puckering the seam a bit to shorten it (pulling the thread diagonally downward from the seam a little to pull the stitches closer together).  This appeared to work.

On the whole, I'm satisfied with how this project has gone so far.  The next step (creating a curved spine that won't break too easily) is going to be a major challenge.

Pieced gorytos, part I

Since Marathon 2015, I've wanted a bowcase that isn't nearly as big as I am for the running around and shooting part of reenactments.  This requires a smaller bow, of course, but a bowcase that fits more closely to the bow's outline will present less area when viewed from the side.  In fact, the Scythian/Persian gorytos in Greek art does tend to have an outline on the lower edge that follows the curve and reflex of the strung bow staff closer than could be achieved without either building the gorytos too tight and stretching the leather or having a seam.  This suggests that the main pocket is made in two parts.  A construction method like this would also allow the bowcase to be made from smaller hides or hides with flaws that mean they have to be cut into smaller contiguous pieces.

The bow I'm using as a model is Ali Bow's Mini Han; not quite right for our period with its wooden siyahs, but at just under 34 inches/86cm strung, it's the smallest recurve I can find that still looks like a bow and not a toy.  I may eventually replace it if a truly tiny Scythian-style bow becomes available, but I have been warned that resin bows may crack with repeated use, so I'm going with the all-fiberglass Ali for the time being.

The hide is Crazy Crow's AA Grade Gold Buckskin.  It's grain-on, but the flesh side has a short, even nap similar to wet-scrape leather that can be the outside.  The color, gaudy though it may look, is actually close to that produced on braintan by smoking over certain species of wood.

After cutting out the body pieces, I determined which one would face outward when worn in "marching" position and traced it onto heavy cardstock.

At first I tried drawing the crenellations freehand in black ink, but then realized it was coming out too sloppy.  I then used a yardstick and divided the length into 1-1/2-inch squares with a 1-1/2-inch top strip.

...  and hatched the parts to be removed...

Cutting the crenellations was too tedious for me, so I used an X-Acto over a wooden plank for that part.

Pieces of the cutout make perfect reinforcements for the ends of the stencil.  Plenty of tape on both the front and back ensures that no pieces of card stick out and snag on the leather.

Test-fitting the stencil.  I made the curved end a little too long; the pointed tip will probably wind up inside the folded lower seam.

To prevent the leather and stencil from moving too much in relation to each other during the painting process, the stencil is taped along the back edge of the leather and on the front as much as possible without entering the stencil area.

This is the first time I've used the beeswax-linseed oil paint on an actual project.  It's colored with red ochre.  I may have added too much beeswax, as the mixture became very firm when cold.  A little goes a long way, since much of the paint is scraped off and then reapplied further down.  For this case, which is about 22 inches/56cm long not counting the margin where it will be stitched to the spine, I used roughly a tablespoon of paint.  It will next have to cure for some days.  I think it's important to get this step done before any assembly, because I can't imagine rubbing and scraping the paint into the suede on anything but a flat surface.