Something special

Last summer this clock hoarder stopped by a garage sale with friend Rick. There were a few clocks on display. The seller was a retiring clockmaker. Nice guy and fine clocks but nothing that really stirred the wallet.

Jeff invited us into his basement workshop. 

Gulp. 

Your aspiring clockmaker has a nice little shop in the garage. Well beyond strictly amateur work but not like this. This was a dense collection of horological tools, devices, timepieces, parts, supplies, detritus and more. 

Jeff started restoring clocks forty years ago. The shop showed it. 

We ended up having a fine chat and exchanged information.

That was that.

Except...

Jeff called last month. "Would you be interested in taking on some of my unfinished horology work?"

Gulp.

Hemming and hawing, this trepidatious timesmith suggested a face-to-face discussion and few days later alighted again at Jeff's place. 

Perhaps first and foremost it was important to set mutual expectations of what your clock jock could accomplish and to be realistic about where he believed his skills would suffice or fail to meet the needs of the work.

Jeff asked a bunch of sensible questions, sizing things up, and increasingly this timorous trainee became more at ease and began to believe he might just be able to help. It was actually a quite pleasurable conversation and, after 30 minutes or so, we agreed that collaborating on one of his current projects would be mutually beneficial. 

Up first, an English bell strike movement. Probably about 200 years old give or take. It was disassembled and all the parts were distributed across a few trays. We inspected many of them on Jeff's kitchen counter.

The clock's case was still at the customer's house but Jeff had everything else including the dial, two very large weights and the incredibly heavy pendulum. The customer had bought the clock in non-running condition and had hired Jeff to get it in shape.

We surveyed the work that Jeff had done, including some substantial brass repairs, and then reviewed the known issues yet to be addressed. This acolyte noted a few items of concern but it all seemed doable.

Sparing the kind reader all the gory details of clock diagnosis...

Then we did a tour of his personal collection.

Gulp.

Wonderful clocks. Inspiring. Jeff was deservedly proud.

Then back to the kitchen.

YLH noted that to really diagnose it he would try to fully reassemble the movement and see what's what. 

"That's what I would do too."

A twinge of self-confidence suffused your correspondent.

And in saying so Jeff realized that he wanted to take one more stab at assembling the movement so we agreed to reconvene thereafter. 

Two weeks later we did.

The movement was assembled and sitting on it's seatboard (the wooden board that supports the movement in the case) but it was not running. As constructed it appeared to be a fairly standard and not wildly complex striking movement. However there were extra wheels and arbors including a combination that this clock doc had never seen before. 

Note the set of wheels that extends below the movement through a cut in the seatboard.

Vas is das?

As for the state of the reassembled movement...

The striking wheel train was locked up. Didn't know why. The pendulum needed a new suspension spring. The weights needed new cords. There were many parts and places that were loose, missing pins, bent, weren't meshing correctly, broken, looked janky and various forms of 'didn't quite seem right'. 

On the face of it a lot of interesting work to do (much less what lay ahead in the undiscovered country).

Jeff noted that he had spoken to customer Paul (name changed) and given him an update on things.

Packed up the car with clock parts and off to the shop.

What lay ahead?

Yes, a lot.