From oversized logs to childbirth.

It’s Monday morning and, as I approach the mill, I know what lies ahead is the immediate repair to the treatment plant after the vacuum pump gave up the ghost last Saturday. Fortunately, the two old guys who help with repairs on a Saturday had lifted the new one into position, making the rewiring process a fairly straightforward job. Provided, of course, the workforce can remain on task and allow me the time and space to complete the job. I usually have two people helping me on the main saw, so I redeploy them to firewood while I get on with the spannering.

The firewood to process isn’t exactly straightforward as it consists of some nasty old lumps of oak which have done numerous journeys around the yard and the time has come to process them to create more space. These lumps are so old, knotty and gnarled that cutting them with a chainsaw is virtually impossible. Armed with a new chain, I’d made a fairly good start on them before the staff started to arrive, whereupon I allocated them their tasks for the day.

I made it as clear as I could to the log splitters not to wreck the splitter in trying to force it through these gnarly, knotted pieces, as I had a client who would gladly take them. And so we went our separate ways and it wasn’t long (as I concentrated on the wiring of the vacuum pump) before I detected the painful cries of a log splitter in intense pain. After several trips back and forth trying to explain what I’d already explained, the chap on the splitter said he was trying to get them down to a certain size as “no one” had a fire “that big”. 

“I do,” I replied. 

WANT MORE VOICE?

These gnarly old bits of oak were in fact for my own use. Most punters aren’t happy with oak, especially the big, gnarly bits, but once dried, it’s perfect for my own use. Having yet again explained what I was trying to do, I was then a little sharp with two operators as they’d managed to plonk the splitter and log cage right in the middle of the roadway, creating an obstacle for the forklift. To me, things like this are common sense. For instance, we don’t park our cars in the middle of the road and we don’t set up the log splitter in the main access to the mill. In a busy and fairly crowded environment like a sawmill, it’s imperative that people think about what they’re doing and don’t leave barrows where others can fall over them. Fortunately, the guys didn’t take umbrage and, because I’ve got so much on my mind, I know that in a few days the snappiness will pass. All I really wanted was some peace and quiet to be able to get on with the vacuum pump. However, the ‘quick’ repair took several hours after the flanges for the pipework didn’t match. Fortunately, if you’re like me and find yourself drilling holes periodically, this problem is solved quite quickly with the use of a magnetic drill, which I purchased some years earlier at great expense. 

However, my optimism was short lived as I quickly discovered the replacement vacuum pump’s motor was burnt out. The guy had assured me, some years ago when I purchased it, that the pump was as good as new. The probable reason for the motor being burnt out was that it had been left switched on in frosty weather. The pump is not designed to have liquid in it, but due to the nature of its job – suck out all the air from an autoclave – small quantities of moisture are left behind, which then freeze in cold weather and cause the pump to seize. Fortunately, the motor from the old pump fitted perfectly and I was able to make one new replacement from two pumps. It works perfectly and is a lot quieter. To make sure the system works well I decided to install some new cut-off valves and gave everything a good overhaul which took up the bulk of the day.

However, the oak still needed sorting and this would mean getting the chainsaw very sharp. At this point I would welcome anyone’s contribution if they could please explain just what I’m doing wrong. I’ve used chainsaws since the age of 12 to my current age of 57, which according to me is 45 years. I’ve always used Oregon 73 LP chain and used to be able to get the chain razor sharp, but recently, when I try to sharpen the chain, the teeth just fly off the file. I’ve wrecked all of my file holders by just trying to push on too hard to get the file to bite into the metal. After trying several different kinds of file, I’ve all but given up and have resorted to using a bench grinder. So, if you’re reading, Mr Oregon, I would like to go to the APF, but unfortunately I won’t have time. Your chain is good, but I’m not a fan of your bars, preferring instead Sugi-Hara or Tsumura. I have an Oregon chain sharpener, to which I’ve made at least 10 alterations – or should that be 11? And so I ask again: What am I doing wrong?

When you use a bench grinder it is easy to heat colour the teeth, which is, of course, a big no-no, and you can easily leave grinder marks on the teeth, which is again a big no-no or even a burr on the teeth, which is, again, unacceptable. It’s here that I introduce you to the Oregon octopus as you try to squirt oil onto the teeth while using the grinder in an attempt to avoid the three previous no-nos!

Finally Mr Oregon, is it really just a ruse to make sharpening a chain such a chore that we have to keep buying lengths and lengths of new chain? I’d be very grateful to hear the opinions of others.

Despite all of the obstacles, I did manage to finally get the chain sharp enough to tackle the oak. I was able to do this by spraying the oil onto the chain from a Fairy Liquid bottle. I must point out at this stage that the oak I was cutting were big crutches where the trunk had split or divided into four or five limbs. This makes them very difficult to cut but provided the saw is sharp enough (thanks to oil) then this can be done. I know you’re not supposed to use oil on a grinding wheel and for that reason I substituted the wheel for something similar. It wasn’t a perfect finish, but it was a vast improvement and one can only speculate as to how well we could cut wood provided we could achieve a finish on a chain like a tungsten saw blade. The net result, thankfully, was that all of the oak was reduced to nice, large chunks, which cleaned up the yard so delivery wagons can gain access easily and my woodshed is full to bursting. 

As with many of the situations I’m confronted with, the solution in the end will probably come from within and, moving forward, I’ll probably end up designing and making my own sharpener – a proper oil-immersed one that doesn’t heat or burr your chains. The main use of the chainsaw in the mill is to straighten up and round off butts before the log goes into the mill and, as it’s me who usually does this, I’m often up and down from the operator’s chair. This probably expends about two gallons of petrol a week in the chainsaw, but it keeps me fit climbing up and down.

And finally... The secretary usually leaves around 3pm, so from then to 5pm, when the workforce leaves, I’m usually incommunicado. I occasionally check my phone, and did so particularly on that day as I knew my third child’s birth was imminent. Around 4.30pm I received a call requesting my immediate presence at home. I leapt into the Hilux and headed back to find my wife in the process of giving birth. I then slipped into my new role as midwife as there was no one else present. To my delight it was a little boy, born just before 6pm – no gas or air and no epidural. The nurse arrived some time later. Mother and baby are doing well. Sometimes you just never know what the day has in store!