Spotting a Portable being carried

Adding machines or calculators don't show in contemporary imagery all that often. At least, they feature less frequently than typewriters - makes sense as they would only be found in very specific business settings.

Here one instance where a Burrougsh Portable adding machine is visible in a film. Very appropriately, it is being carried. Handled here in the crime (noir) movie "The Undercover Man" of 1949.

When it's been placed on the table, clearly visible as a Burroughs Portable adding machine with the narrow paper-roll platen.

As the company said; easily carried from desk to desk :)

Forto - least known Dutch typewriter factory?

The three "Forto" typewriters that just topped the Typewriterdatabase list of recently edited galleries are marked 'Made in Holland' by 'Forto N.V. Bussum'. The Forto portable machine has been described before and identified as a Consul machine, a typewriter made by (the) Zbrojovka in Brno, Czechoslovakia. The serial numbers suggest that all three Forto specimens were manufactured in 1961; a relatively rare name-variant of the Consul. But - 'Made in Holland' ?

There was quite some post-war typewriter manufacture in The Netherlands. E.g. by Royal (moving into the premises of a defunct cigar-manufacturer in Leiden), Halberg (later bought by Royal), IBM or Remington. However, Forto NV in Bussum is rather more obscure.

Was this even a factory? Or simply a badging dreamed-up by Zeta/Consul to sell into the US? Doing some browsing through some online archives, it seems that Forto actually was a real company producing metal goods.

The company name "Forto" of Bussum turns up first in 1937, when they get type-approval for their Forto-brand bicycle rearlight. The company 'Metaalwarenfabriek "Forto"' in 1939 gets type-approval for a second model of rearlight (with reflector).

The address associated with the company then, Ruthardlaan 2, is a residential address - the office or perhaps residence of the owner/director (or both). Certainly not a factory.

Then in the above 1947 job posting for experienced die and tool makers a more industrial location is given. This 2e Industrieweg 4 location is a relatively small-scale industrial development of 1936, with multiple workshops around a courtyard and the complex itself surrounded by residential streets. Not certain if this was the primary site, or e.g only a toolmaker workshop.

The entrance to the courtyard, image from an article on the site of the Bussum Historical Society.

In the 1950s they occasionally advertise jobs; mostly girls for assembly-work and boys as press or lathe operator.  (Retirees are also invited to apply.) The job postings indicate the company has presses, lathes and does some assembly-work as well. They perhaps have their own tool-making or maintenance. One of the products they manufacture are weighing scales, as indicated by hiring for the 'scales-department'.

In October 1959 they start hiring for the typewriter department (afd. schrijfmachines); openings for an assembly worker, packer and trainees. (Again, also open for pensioners to apply.) This seems consistent with the typewriter manufacture mostly being the assembly of kits from Zeta/Consul.

The address given is again a residential address. Initially only number 17, then 17-19 suggesting they have taken the whole of the semi-detached villa near the railway station of Bussum.

From all this can be concluded that the Forto brand for typewriters was not created by Zeta/Consul, but was already the registered brandname of a Dutch metal goods manufacturer. They had been doing stampings and assembling relatively simple metal products since at least the late 1930s.

From the -admittedly meagre- indications found; in 1959 they were a factory with experience in metal goods production, but so far there is nothing to indicate a capability to manufacture (under license) a product of the complexity and precision needed for a typewriter.

Most likely is that somehow Zeta and Forto found each other to arrange the local Dutch assembly (with perhaps some parts locally manufactured) of 'knock-down kit' typewriters from Czechoslovakia. Likely done for the sole purpose of giving the machines a 'Made in Holland' wrapping for selling into the US.

By the end of the 1960s most companies have left the relatively cramped premises of the 2e Industriestraat courtyard. Also the Forto company moved out (if they ever were there, it may have been a secondary site). Uncertain from when exactly, but in the 1980s they are located at the Energieweg 35 on an industrial estate in nearby Naarden. Job-postings show the company is then still active in metal stamping, bending etc.; i.e. general metal goods and parts manufacture. 

The Forto company is declared bankrupt in 1994 - the sale of assets announcement shown above gives an overview of their machinery. Presses and milling machines as expected for a general metal goods/parts factory. That is probably what Forto was throughout its existence - even though briefly in 1959 - 1961 they were Holland's Finest factory of Precision Engineered typewriters!

Spanners of the ~1916 Meccano pattern (completism)

I am a completist.

About ten years ago, hesitated too long and missed out on a set of Meccano spanners with large Meccano-stamping then available. This large wordmark dates from around 1916 or thereabouts - and these are much less common than the later nickeled spanners. So when recently spotting the chance to get two, even though a bit pricey with shipping and fees added - went ahead and bought two!

So now my assortment of nickel Meccano of the early 1920s has spanners matching the period screwdriver obtained a few years earlier.

Meccano started marking everything with the brand, reportely in response to the long fight with the pretty blatant rip-off American Model Builder from 1913 or so. This makes dating parts easier, from the presence and the evolving style of the lettering. Many parts were also stamped with a patent numbers/dates. Then a "Fabrique en Angleterre" marking was added from 1921, to comply with new French regulation.

Even though a later 1920s nickel spanner would not be too wrong either, these early 20ies black spanners are a better match for the screwdriver - and make the set again a little more complete. For the complete period-experience.

I am a completist :)

The Burroughs Portable adding machine

The Burroughs Portable adding machine - the type was introduced a 100 years ago, my specimen was manufactured 97 years ago. Having now had it standing for several weeks after re-filling the dashpot to check for any signs of leakage (none!), the repairs to this machine have now (probably) been succesful - fixed :)

The direct-subtracting Class 9 was introduced a bit later than the Class 8 adding-only Portable. The range was designed from the start to be modular, enabling many variations in capacity and features. (Similar to how the 1921 Dalton Super Model range was envisioned.) My particular machine is a Portable of Style 90802: 9 for direct-subtraction, 08 for the 8-column capacity and 02 for hand-operated with 12.5" movable wide carriage.

(rechnerlexikon.de)

After 97 years the anti-glare crackle lacquer is worn away in spots, but it definitely is the wide carriage style. It is massive too.

Sometime in the late 1920s the Burroughs company issued a marvellous advertising book to promote the Portable range. Today this publication is scanned and available via the Archive.

The book gives a fascinating insight in the use of the machine and its selling-points. Note that in 1928 a market survey in the USA found that about 15% of sales were repeat purchases - most adding-machine business was to sell a machine to a first-time user automating existing manual work.

The book repeatedly touts the many advantages of this new portable design; it is only slightly larger than a letterhead!

Technically, that is true. Nevertheless, it does have rather more 'presence' on a desk than the letterhead.

The portability is emphasized on several pages; how easy it is to carry from desk to desk, take it on a business trip. The girl is carrying it under her arm with a seeming nonchalance.

At 19 pounds it indeed is portable. Especially when comparing to the Burroughs Class 1 behemoths or even a Class 3 machines. Nevertheless, it is a hefty chunk of metal.

Another way to look at this adding machine, here the Portable placed next to an Underwood 5 standard typewriter.

Looking at the heavy presence of the Burroughs Portable, note that Underwood did not advertise the No. 5 as 'portable' - the Underwood Portables of 1925 were significantly smaller and lighter. Portability definitely had a different meaning for adding machines.

Introduced with a basic price of 100 dollar it was of course an expensive item, but remarkably low-priced for a quality brand adding-listing machine. It effectively forced Dalton to lower their entry price from 125 to 100 dollar in response. (Dalton needing to create the 'Special' monochrome-only machine in a different finish to justify this new price-point.) It also gave Burroughs an answer to the increasing competition from Wales, Barret and others, many marketing their machines explicitly as being portable. 

A Class 8, basic Style 80801 would've been 100 dollar. A Class 9 with wide carriage would have cost significantly more - probably around 170 dollar in 1928.

Whichever variation, all were solidly built - made by Burroughs in Detroit:

And after almost a century, this particular machine again works fine - a quality product!

With movable 12.5" carriage, able to take an A4 sideways. Also with a roll-holder to optionally print on a standard adding-machine paper roll.

With direct-subtraction - figuring out its age.

And in side-profile. For its period it is a clean-looking and modern machine.

The major difference with the competing Dalton machines; it has a full keyboard like all Burroughs machines. Buttons.

Magnificent engineering! - celebrating its 100 year anniversary this year :-)

Blickensderfer 5 typewriter - ready

The Blickensderfer 5 typewiter that was in a bit of a state (and missing several bits) is now again presentable and in its transport case.

Taken out of its case, it is complete, clean and even functional.

This machine probably dates from 1906. Instead of a metal plate with patent dates, has a gold decal shield with patent dates on the side.

The replacement carriage-release bail as well as the paper-tray rack are made from knitting-needles. A new 3D-printed carriage knob fitted, replica of the original pattern. For proper paper-handling, a replica was made for the missing ruler as well. 

From browsing The Typewriterdatabase, number 5's of this period should have a nickel-plated ruler, rounded edges with a numbered scale. Number 7's have a blank ruler. Early machines straight corners. Later models, i.e. the Rem-Blick show a black ruler with the scale in white. Being uncertain of how the result would come out, made a replica ruler for each of the possible variants - to see what would be achievable/acceptable and not look too out-of-place.

Fortunately, the scale lettering came out quite well and accepting a spray-painted brushed-nickel appearance instead of proper shiny nickel, the nickel-scale variant was fitted. To mount this and also replace the refreshed feed-roller, again the carriage was taken apart.

Viewed from normal 'use' distance, the ruler is not too jarring. More importantly, it functions in guiding the paper over the platen. (The new keys also blend in fairly well, may yet be replaced by slightly improved specimens.)

Outcome of re-building the wrecked little Blickensderfer; a presentable and functional Blickensderfer 5 typewriter.

It is now quite usable to type a letter or two. The roller-inking and typewheel mechanism is however much more temperamental than a typebar+ribbon system. Using the Blickensderfer next to e.g. an Underwood 5 the difference is very noticeable - the Underwood is so much more robust and forgiving than the Blickensderfer, not even mentioning its speed.

The Blickensderfer on the other hand is amazingly compact, offers endless variety in typefaces and easily swaps color and simply looks 'cool'. With some care and adapting to the touch and rythm of the machine, it is really usable and able to produce decent work too.

Ingenious little machine! 

Turning of the Screws - adjusting the Blickensderfer

This Blickensderfer 5 typewriter was out of adjustement from severe knocks to the frame - so it was unavoidable to attempt to re-adjust the typing mechanism. Adjusting the typewheel mechanism with its several set-screws dotted around the machine is somewhat intimidating, further made interesting by the bent-parts taking some adjustments out of the range of the set-screw.

Even though intimidating, there logically has to be a way to simply converge on a properly adjusted Blickensderfer step-by-step. The factory turned out hundreds of machines per week - there will have been a 'recipe' for the adjuster to efficiently adjust a machine. (Some of the training material or instructions for the factory would have been great here.)

The basic method of selecting the right rotation for a specific key is fairly straightforward. As nicely illustrated in below sketch, the wheel is rotated by the difference in deflection between bars G and D as actuated by the stepped-section of the key-lever. 

(G. Tilghman Richards - 1938)

The bar D is actuated first, rotating the wheel as it rotates one "quadrant" C downward via the transmission of the geared-prongs (essentially very small sections of large gear-wheels). The rotation stops when the keylever also touches and starts actuating the bar G that causes the whole typewheel stack plus the other quadrant B to start moving in sync with C. Also moving quadrant B is part of the trickiness - this is timed via the set-screws on the base of the mechanism. Quadrant B is actuated via a prong (with set-screws) that is part of bar G.

Another trick is that the static quadrant is locked at first, to prevent any slippage or being pulled along as the wheel rotates. It is held by the hook shown in the diagram; only by actuating the bar D corresponding with the quadrant is this hook pulled out of the way to allow movement. 

The start of ajusting probably was to set the set-screw for each side to to start touching the other side's prong just as the universal bar G starts to move. That means for the right side of the keyboard, the left set-screw must be set to ensure the left prong moves in-sync with the central 'universal prong' and vice versa. Likely that is the start of adjusting the base. The next step is to check that the least-deflection keys (here T and E) are balanced. And when the top-assembly is installed, to screw inward just enough for the lock to be released. I.e. for the unlock of key E on the right-side of the keyboard the left screw (red) and vice-versa.

On this banged-up specimen the left-side could not be brought in-range. At the maximum setting, the letter E would not rotate before the universal bar G stopped it. To fix without attempting any more bending, bar D was padded with copper shim to 'cheat'. This is too soft and not durable, but it'll hold for now. 

The three set-screws on the top-assembly regulate the wheel locking-moment and release - when the balance of T and E is right and the opposing quadrant is unlocked just-in-time, then the centre screw (yellow) sets the range of the end-rotation. This then adjusts so that the largest-deflection key (Z and J) register correct.

Another trickiness of the mechanism is a prong that locks the typewheel in its rotated state from below. Probably its function is to prevent any smudging from the wheel starting to rotate back before it has fully left the paper. When the typewheel stack is rotating back upwards again, this lock needs to be pushed out of engagement. The right set-screw (purple) adjusts the timing via a bail to trigger this unlock. It is sensitive. (The left set-screw is an imposter; this merely is the mounting srcew of a spring.)

After a lot of time staring at the mechanism and imagining what the steps would've been, this little Blickensderfer 5 is starting to make sense again!

There still are some characters that are at the edge of their range (wrong character about 1 in 10 times) and the unlocking is likewise at the edge. I.e. when depressing the lowest-rotation character, a clear resistance is felt from the other side's quadrant slipping off the locking-hook. Even though this adjusting mostly worked, there are likely more details/tricks (that were well-known in Stamford 120 years ago). Probably more small tweaks as the machine 'settles in'.

Another aspect is that the adjustments and details of the wheel mechanism were changed over time by Blickensderfer - this adjustment worked on a 1905-ish No. 5, but an older or newer machine or e.g. a No. 8 are likely to be slightly different.

Result is that this project machine has now cleared its biggest hurdle to again becoming a typing machine! :-)

Cleaning the Blickensderfer 5 head-assembly (writing cipher)

The head assembly of the Blickensderfer typewriter is a bit daunting to take apart completely. For this one, the main pivot-rod was left in place, but the other bits were removed for proper cleaning.

The ink-roller bracket was completely bent out of shape and the thumb-screw for adjusting spring-tension was also bent badly. Fortunately it was possible to bend this back (a bit) without snapping the threaded rod. The fact that these parts were both bent so severely means that the top-casting of this Blickensderfer 5 got a very nasty knock at one time.

Most of the paint-splatter could be removed without damage, but the thick lacquer had also been chipped in many spots.

To make these chips less noticeable, a method to mask these was tried. First filling-in with black enamel paint.

And then followed by sanding the filled-in areas smooth and level with the surrounding paint, using fine, wet P400 sandpaper.

That was then followed by a polishing (car-polish for black) and given the sewing-machine oily-rag treatment.

Definitely still visible as damaged areas, but much less noticeable from a distance. A different, high-gloss enamel lacquer could have been used to better match the surrounding gloss. Nevertheless, the whole appearance is deemed good enough for now. (The typewriter is 120 years old, it's allowed to have some blemishes and show wear.)

The whole top assembled again and placed back onto the machine. Then popped-on a brand-new Italic typewheel (Blickensderfer Mfg Co catalogue number 440) plus a new ink-pad and to see if it works!

Yes, the machine types! 

However; the printed characters are not what's on the keys, and not always the same characted for a key either. (That was the 'w' that was pressed repeatedly, not the 'f'.) It's now a bit like a cipher machine.

From checking how the machine is out of adjustment, this is almost certainly caused by the top-casting being bent backward. This threw the wheel-locking out of adjustment and made it unusable. If the fall/knock happened long ago when it was still in use, it would definitely then have been 'retired' to the shed, basement or attic.

A quick check of the adjustment screws of the base also showed-up that the geared-prongs of the actuating bars also are bent. These bars are now impossible to adjust to be in-range with the adjustment screws.

Much more puzzling to be done! The little typewriter shows it can write, now only to make it write sense :)