Arco Light

Everything changes with the times. Even items as inherently archaic as fountain pens respond to fashion and technology, albeit at a glacial pace. These alterations can be for the good, the bad, or sometimes just to save a few bucks at the factory. Today’s lesson in evolution finds us gazing at the products of the historic old Italian firm of Omas. That name is an acronym for Officina Meccanica Armando Simoni and the somewhat eponymous Bolognese firm was founded in 1925. It remains one of the grand dames of the pen world continuing to innovate along with paying homage to the past with a varied product line. In the last few decades many of their pens were of a design that mimicked the pre-war glory days of writing instruments. Classic and understated models like the humbly named Paragon conveyed the special Italian sense of style. That certainly was not an exclusive pursuit as Omas introduced many models of extreme modernity sometimes by guest designers. The Tokyo and more recently the Emotica show that taste for the unique and futuristic.

If there is one thing that comes to most minds when Omas is mentioned now it’s the lovely celluloid they use on their top tier pens. One of the earliest plastics celluloid is still unrivaled for deep, luminous patterns and a warm, comfortable feel. After a period away from that material it returned in 1991 for the introduction of the Arte Italia line. These came in a wide range beautiful colors and styles reminiscent of their classic models (and of the Wahl Doric as many will point out.) One of the most sought after colors in these pens was arco, a brown and cream that brings to mind glowing wood. Many people consider an Omas in arco a grail pen (one that is coveted above others) because of this striking appearance.

In 2000 Omas was bought from descendants of its founder by LVMH (Moët Hennessy • Louis Vuitton S.A.) a luxury goods group that is known for ultra high-end products such as those indicated in its name. A few years later in 2005 a major redesign of their upper range of pens occurred which broke from their previous vintage look. Two new models replaced and bracketed the position the Paragon held in the Omas hierarchy: A new Paragon that is larger and has more bling and a Milord which is more comparable in size and looks to the old Paragon. The former has a large nib, bright metal section, large engraved cap band, inset cap-top “O”, and a new wide roller clip which makes it more ostentatious than before.  Modest in comparison is the Milord which has a body colored section and smaller nib. Both pens have a more strongly tapered and chunkier appearance then what they replace but are still recognizably Omas with faceted sides and continuation of trademark celluloid.

Omi? Is that the plural for Omas? New Milord (L) and old Paragon (R).

A little while ago a friend gave me a leaky Milord to repair and I got a look at the new Omas construction. Since I also had on hand an example of the previous generation Paragon I decided to put it to use as a benchmark to see what has changed. I discovered an awful lot has changed. The entire filling system and construction of the pen has been thoroughly revised in the new model. Upon inspection it seem like Omas has taken a step back from elegant simplicity. This reminds me of the golden age of fountain pens when manufacturers were competing to see who could find the most complex methods for simple jobs in order to generate impressive engineering blather for advertising copy.

The parts of an old Paragon (T) and a new Milord (B).

Let’s take a look at the picture above to get an idea of what I am talking about. In it you’ll see the old Paragon (top) and new Milord (bottom) and what they are made of (you’ll want to click the image for a larger view). The older pen is the straight forward piston filler and similar to many vintage and contemporary writing instruments using that system. You can see there are only a few important parts including two cylindrical pieces, one with the seal on the end; a barrel; a filling knob; section; and nib/feed assembly. Simply put the barrel holds the ink and a piston travels lengthwise to draw or expel such. More specifically it works because the shaft that carries the piston seal is a hollow spiral and can freely move up and down but not twist. Into this meshes a threaded rod connected to the turning knob at the barrel end which can only rotate. If the knob is turned that rotational motion creates linear motion on the seal creating a vacuum to fill the pen with ink. Some pens reverse what shaft is the outer and inner (as in the Milord here ) or change the part lengths but the principle stays the same.

So if the standard piston filling system is reliable and often used (Montblanc and Pelikan among others have utilized it for decades) why mess with it? I’m not sure but Omas did on their newer pens with a flourish of complexity. Take a look at the disassembled pens and you can see more parts for the new Omas then the old to illustrate that point. On the outside the celluloid section of the Milord has gotten much longer and friction fits to the rear portion. It doesn’t look all that ink tight with such a joint but luckily it doesn’t have to be. That’s because the mysterious long clear tube in the picture is what really holds the ink now when slid into the pen. Yep, it’s a barrel in a barrel which makes the visible celluloid part just window dressing. The image below shows that the functional components can work independently from the pretty outside bits as a pen. It’s similar to what is called a “captive converter” which is a removable converter (often used in cartridge fill pens) permanently put into place and passed off as a piston filler. What we have here is kind of a jumbo version of that which sniggers down into the celluloid wrapper and is retained there to create the final pen.

Look Ma! No skin!

If you go back in time this actually is very much like a Tibaldi pen I fixed a few years ago which had a remarkably similar inner structure (see pic below.) I wasn’t too fond of the filling system then and I’m still not now. Besides being complex it seems delicate which increases the chance of a malfunction. A weak point in both I noticed was that the inner barrel is made of a brittle plastic which can develop stress fractures. The tight fit of this in the outer cosmetic barrel means it is submitted it to a lot of pressure when being removed or replaced thus the fractures. Lastly when you reduce the diameter of the tube holding ink such as done by the double wall we have a smaller ink capacity then in an equivalent sized standard piston filler.

Tibaldi Modello 60

I sound pretty negative but are there any upsides to the new design? I can think of a few possibilities starting with the fact that the celluloid is protected from any ink discoloration due to exposure. Not a problem I often see but it is a consideration. Also there is insulative value in having two barrels even without airspace between them. This could mean that rapid warming and cooling is slowed and so the ink doesn’t expand and leak out as easily when the pen is full. Yes, this may be a bit of a stretch. Lastly, and of concern to the manufacturer, it may be more economical to make a pen this way. The inner barrel could be simpler to produce since it’s not celluloid and has rougher finishing. Also repair is made much easier when a cheaper internal structure can be swapped in and no expensive celluloid needs to be touched.

I only have conjecture about why the change in construction was made but I do know that the old style Paragon is the pen I’d prefer out of the two. Both in looks and function I think it is superior. That’s not to say the new Milord or Paragon will not be a good pen with a long life. We’re not talking an accident waiting to happen so in all likelihood it will give good service. However, I do like elegant design in an expensive pen so just call me old-fashioned.

Imperialism

A friend sent me a special pen to see if I could get it working again. It belonged to his Godmother and displays her name proudly on the barrel. Oddly enough one of her two surnames was condensed to a single initial which makes it seem like this was either a present or that the stationers who engraved it couldn’t hot stamp that many characters and took a strange shortcut.

The pen is an early Sheaffer Imperial IV with Touchdown filling. Imperials went up to VIII with each increment a slightly fancier pen. They were made as cartridge/converter fillers as well. If you want the whole scoop check out the excellent article at PenHero.com. This one’s section unit seemed pretty gummed up so I decided to take it apart for a thorough cleaning. I’ve got a similar later Imperial section that I disassembled first to make sure I was familiar with the procedure before working on the heirloom pen.

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Note markings on early and later shells. (click to see larger)

The first oddity I noticed was the difference in the markings on the nib between the two. My friend’s said “Sheaffer’S” in the style you see on older vintage pens from that manufacturer. My nib just said “Sheaffer” in the block letters I’m used to seeing on those pens from the 60’s and later. A quick web search and I found that the former company logotype was on the first Imperials and it changed over in the mid-60s it seems.

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Later shell on left is cutout. One on right is enclosed.

Even odder that the markings was the structural differences I saw. On the newer Imperial section the front of the feed is exposed through a cut-out in the shell. It was what I was used to seeing on this model. However, the older one had the feed totally encased in the section and a small ink intake hole under the point was the only opening I could see. When I took them both apart you could see a larger end on the newer feed and a smaller one to fit inside the outer cover on the other. Not too much else was different except for a shorter feed channel and no joint washer on the earlier pen.

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Old section parts on top, new on bottom. (Click to see part labels)

Still, it’s a pretty major running change for a pen and I’m not sure why they did it. It could have been due to problems noticed with ink flow or a problem flushing the older design out easily. The answer might never be known. When this pen is finished I’ll evaluate how it writes and see if it is lacking in some way.

Overall the Imperial is a great, well made pen that is often overlooked. I can’t wait till this one is up and running again.

It’s Alive!

Behold the Tuckenstein!
Behold the Tuckenstein!

The new pen I’ve been building is finished. Last post you saw the parts and now you can see it all together. By agreement with its owner the pen will be called “Tuckenstein” to represent it being both a frankenpen and a Sheaffer Tuckaway model. The only change I made from when I laid out the parts earlier was to switch the blind cap from blue to green. The blue one was too tight and so I replaced it with a better fitting one. I don’t think it changes the overall look of the pen a great deal.

It wasn’t too hard to do final assembly on this pen except for finding the correct screw to attach the blind cap. I stole a synthetic rubber o-ring from a Sheaffer Imperial which fit well enough to allow the touchdown tube to achieve a good seal when moving up and down inside the barrel. It’s important to have this good seal since in this system of filling a sudden compression of air is achieved by pushing that tube downwards which deflates the sac. That sac will then inflate and in that way draw ink up. Lastly the old spare nib used needed a good amount of smoothing to make it write well.

It may not be something a mere mortal should attempt but another pen has been brought to life!

Tuckenstein writing sample.
Tuckenstein writing sample.

Franky and Fans

Frankys in order: Bride of, Thinenstein, Son of.
Frankies in order: Bride of, Thinenstein, Son of.

If you’ve been collecting, fixing, and futzing with pens for as long as I have you wind up with a lot of pen parts. Often these bits are leftovers from a broken pen you may have bought to salvage parts from to fix another. You hope that someday you’ll need some of the leftover pieces but unless you do pen repair as a business (which I do not) they’ll just gather dust.

A while ago I was rummaging through my cabinet of pen curiosities and realized I had a lot of Sheaffer Snorkel parts. There were more than enough to make quite a few pens out of. The down side was that there were not enough parts of the same color to make a monotone pen except for black. Black, although suitable for all formal occasions, is quite a boring pen color so I didn’t bother.

Sometime after noticing my parts surplus I was talking to a friend and realized she never had owned a Snorkel. Since I think everyone should have one (or two) of this remarkable pen I had an idea: Take the colorful mish-mash of parts and form a single pen from them. This would match my friend’s eclectic nature (and my own whimsy) as well! So with that a pen made of parts from many other pens (generically known as a “frankenpen”) was born. After the woman in question, Leigh Reyes, received the monstrosity she christened it “Frankensnork.”

I thought Franky (for short) was going to be a one off since I couldn’t imagine many people would find such a conglomeration of parts attractive. Surprisingly, I was proven wrong when the pen was shown around to other pen fanciers and they expressed a desire for one of similarly bizarre construction. A few months later I had fulfilled such slightly askew wishes with three more pens. Two were Snorkels, Bride of Frankensnork & Son of Frankensnork, and one was a Sheaffer Thin Model I named Thinenstein. Those pens have since found their way into the hands of some good friends, both here and abroad, who I hope are happy with them.

Never knowing when to stop I’ve taken up the mad scientist mantle again to build another horror pen. Sadly, there were not enough parts to make a multi-hued Snorkel again but I did discover enough to create a Sheaffer Tuckaway. This pen model was quite short with an abbreviated clip and intended for vest pockets or ladies’ purses. It’s filled via the Touchdown method so in my bizarre naming scheme it has become Spawn of Thinenstein! Well, it was Baby of Thinenstein prior to that but I didn’t think it theatrical enough a name.

I’ve just assembled all the parts I will need and below is an image of them arranged somewhat in the order they are put together. When I’m done and before I ship it off to its waiting owner I’ll take a picture of the finished product.

Tucky
Spawn of Thinenstein bits. (click image for parts w/labels)

Fixing Fil

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Even newer pens can quickly need some tender loving care. Recently some simple repair work came up on a pen that shouldn’t have needed it. It was purchased used but promised to be in working condition which, as you can guess, was not an accurate description. Still, I’m happy I did get to do this work since it’s an interesting pen with a bit of a story.

Several years ago Richard Binder, well known for his specialty nib work, and Filcao, a little known Italian pen manufacturer, collaborated on a design. Called “Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean” it is styled in the mold of a vintage writing instrument.  CTGOTO (I love acronyms) has solid, square shouldered good looks and a moderately large size which makes it comfortable to use. The luxury of a sterling silver cap band is a contrast to the humble steel Schmidt nib. But it is not a simple nib since Mr. Binder has in this case tweaked it to be a cursive italic. Orange flecked blue acrylic used for the barrel and cap is the finishing touch to this attractive ensemble.

Worth noting here is something not seen too often on modern pens: a button filler. With the original Duofold Parker put this filling method on the map as a way around patents like Sheaffer’s for the lever filler. It is novel, quaint, and best of all works easily in the following manner: A button under the blind cap at the end of the barrel is pushed down to start the process. This button rests on one end of a spring steel pressure bar and the other side is anchored in the niche between the sac nipple and the inside wall of the barrel. This unit will flex with the downward pressure compressing the sac that it sits next to. When the button is release the sac inflates which draws the ink into it.

When this pen came to me I was surprised to find that the rubber sac had hardened and broke. Usually you wouldn’t think that could happen on a pen this new, but it did. My guess is that the sac may have been old stock and had aged even before it was used. Either way, it was an inky mess inside when disassembled. To fix it all that was needed was a scrubbing and a new sac. A silicone sac was used since I like the fact they don’t degrade like rubber ones over time. Below are a few pictures of the process.

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Filcao dissasembled for repair. (Click for larger image with parts labeled)

This is the pen taken apart for the repair. Not really very many parts for this filling system.

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Button filler.

The pressure bar sits next to the sac like shown here. The button at the end forces it to flex.

Filcao pressure bar being inserted.
Filcao pressure bar being inserted.

After section with sac screws into the barrel you insert the pressure bar from the other end until I seats near the section.

Filcao button end.

You can see the end of the bar peeking out. Next the button and retaining washer is screwed onto the end.

Button fill assembled.
Button fill assembled.

Here is the barrel all done.

Filcao writing sample