The latest fountain pen to arrive on my doormat has been this lovely vintage Burnham 61, which I found on eBay.
Burnham No.61
The backstory to this purchase, is that I had first bought a Burnham, a number 54, in March this year and had been delighted with it. Some photos and information on that pen appeared in my post Finding joy in small things: the Burnham 54 fountain pen back in April. That pen was much smaller than I had expected but the soft, 14k gold nib made the pen such a pleasure to use that I soon adjusted to its size.
I have been warned by a close relative in my household, to stop looking at pens on eBay as the temptation there is never ending. This, I can confirm, is true. Nevertheless, a decent interval having elapsed since my last transgression, I ventured back to the site and, sure enough, spotted this black Burnham 61 which was offered for immediate purchase. The description stated that the sac had been replaced and that the pen was in good condition for its age. The seller’s photograph of the nib proved too much for me and I was smitten.
Got to love the heart-shape!The grip section is of a lighter colour than the barrel and cap.
Once again, I had made the mistake of expecting the pen to be bigger! Although larger all round than my Burnham 54, it is still a small pen by modern standards. With vintage pens, I avoid posting the cap in case of damaging the cap rim. An alternative is to find a cap from a modern pen to post, to add length. In this case, I found that a cap from a Speedball calligraphy pen worked very well, but I found it preferable, at least for short writing sessions, to get accustomed to holding the pen unposted.
I flushed the pen a few times in warm water and then filled it with Waterman Serenity Blue. The pen filled well. There is no ink window of course, but if you wish to measure how much ink a lever filler draws up, you may empty it slowly and count the drops. Alternatively, for a more immediate assurance, you may decant some ink into an ink-miser with a narrow diameter, which will better show the ink level sinking, as ink is drawn into the sac. I use the plastic insert from a TWSBI Diamond 580 ink well for this.
And so to the writing. The pen wrote superbly. The nib grade is not shown but I presume it to be a Fine or Extra Fine. The nib imprint reads “Burnham 14Ct Gold Osmiridium.”
Barrel imprint
I would have been happy if this pen had simply written the same as my Burnham 54, but the fact that it wrote with a lovely precise fine line, was a bonus. Once again, the nib felt smooth on my Stalogy notebook paper, but there was a distinct feedback, hard to explain yet exquisitely enjoyable!
Imagine your own handwriting here.
Burnham pens do not seem to garner very much attention in the fountain pen community. I am probably not helping myself by raving about them here, with the London Pen Show just a few weeks away, but I hope to see a few Burnhams at the show. As I now have a collection of two Burnham lever filler fountain pens, (each costing me less than a Lamy AL-Star) I can attest that these can make a very satisfying buy. With some high-end, steel-nibbed pens costing around £200.00, a vintage Burnham offers a gold nib at a fraction of this amount and with a wealth of character with which a modern pen cannot compete. My advice, if a Burnham should catch your eye at the show, would be to (1) ask whether the sac has been replaced; (2) inspect the nib and if possible, try a dip test to see how it writes, and (3) save some for me.
I am a sucker for a new notebook. I love buying a new one, removing the cellophane, sampling pens and inks on the back page and then paginating it in pencil. The next pleasure is choosing what to use it for. Never mind that I have about 20 new ones already (a conservative estimate: I daren’t get them all out to count them: and that is just the A5’s).
There is a crowded market for A5 journals, perhaps typified and made famous by the Moleskine books with their expandable pocket in the back cover and the elastic closure. I learned only recently that the Moleskine enterprise began partly in response to a mention by the late author Bruce Chatwin, in his book The Songlines (published in 1987). He recounts a conversation when he is about to take notes and pulls from his pocket, “a black, oilcloth-covered notebook, its pages held in place with an elastic band.” The interviewee comments “Nice notebook” to which he responds “I used to get them in Paris, but now they don’t make them anymore.” The origin story of Moleskine can be found on its official website.
Presumably to fit into a pocket, the Moleskine notebook is narrower than A5. Rymans, the stationery store chain, sell their own brand notebooks, for the budget-conscious. When I bought one a couple of years ago, it followed the same, narrower, Moleskine format and also had lines ruled at 7mm row height. I wished that they were A5 width and with a line spacing of 8mm.
Rymans’ new A5 notebook with the narrower old style version for comparison.
Well, on a recent visit to my local Rymans, I was very pleased to see that their 2024 range of own brand notebooks now have both of these two changes. They also come in a new variety of attractive colours, whether your preference is for a traditional navy blue, dark green, Burgundy or tan – or a more playful pastel shade.
Such was my excitement that I bought two, one in Burgundy and the other in a pretty pastel colour described as Wisteria. Interestingly, Rymans do not include the term “A5” in the description, instead simply describing it as “Medium.” However, the belly-band indicates the paper size as 210mm x 148mm.
Burgundy and Wisteria – two of the many colours available.
They have a hardback cover (although described as “soft cover” by reason of its soft-to-the-touch, leather-like texture). Other features include 192 pages, stitched, open-flat binding, 70gsm cream paper, an expandable pocket, and elastic closure and pen loop and rounded corners. At £7.99 these are well below half the price of a Leuchtturm or Moleskine notebook. All good so far.
Unfortunately, for those wishing to use fountain pens, I found the paper a bit hit and miss. The surface is pleasant to write on but pen and ink combinations need to be chosen with care. On the back page, I tried a selection of fountain pens from my pen cups, hoping that none would bleed through the paper. Most did bleed through, with a few surprising exceptions.
Fountain pen ink bleedthrough test combinations with results on the facing page. Those that bled through are marked with a red cross. Those that this did not, marked with a green tick.
For example, my broadest and wettest fountain pen, my Scribo Write Here Africa with its 18k gold broad nib, currently filled with Montegrappa blue black, was one that did not bleed through. This led me to conclude that it is not so much the amount of ink laid down, but its type. I was pleased that at least I could use my Scribo in this book. I immediately filled a Parker Vector XL (fine nib) with the same, Montegrappa ink. [Unfortunately, this ink seems no longer available].
Juicy broad Scribo with Montegrappa Blue Black.
Another ink to avoid bleed through, was Noodler’s bulletproof black – even when applied with a 4mm long fude nib.
I felt that some more extensive pen and ink sampling was required for this book and set about filling up some pages. Starting at the last page of the book, I had tried 11 different pens. I copied this out again two pages back, leaving the facing page blank to view the bleed through. I then repeated this exercise with some Pentel Energel rollerballs, my Pilot Frixion stick rollerballs, a few other rollerballs from Cross, Cerruti and Lamy and finally a page full of Uniball rollerballs of differing colours and widths, from Uniball’s Air, Eye, Impact, Signo and Vision Elite. I had 43 samples.
Pentel Energels – mostly avoid bleedthrough.
My bleedthrough test results on the new Ryman notebook, surprised me. For example, the Pentel Energel 0.7 rollerballs were all ok, (with the possible exception of the red, which was a bit borderline). Likewise the Cross Bailey Light rollerball (a favourite) with its Cross 0.5 refill, and the Pilot Frixion stick pens were all ok to use. But the Lamy tipo with a blue, Lamy M66 B refill – a lovely smooth writer – did bleed through and had a high degree of show-through, rendering it unsuitable for double-sided writing in this book.
More rollerballs, with bleedthrough on facing page.
Finally, the Uniball rollerballs mostly failed my test with the notable exception of the Signo 307 retractable 0.7mm, in blue. But perhaps the biggest surprise of all was the Uniball Gel Impact 1.0mm, in blue. This is a lovely smooth, broad, wet, vibrant writer with a snap on cap, metal nose cone and comfortable rubber grip section. I very much doubted that this would go well on the Rymans book yet it showed no trace of bleedthrough and very little show through.
Uniball family. The Gel Impact was best at avoiding bleedthrough
I concluded my sampling with a Winners page, the pen and ink equivalent of a victory parade. As can be seen, this handy summary shows that I am left with plenty of usable pen and ink combinations for this book.
Summary of the winning pen and ink combinations for the Ryman notebook.
To summarise, I find this new version Ryman Medium notebook good for its full width A5 pages, 8mm row height and value for money. As for the fountain pen and rollerball user, my results were mixed and some experimentation is required. However I believe that most stationery hoarders will find at least a few suitable combinations in their stash and, if like me, will have fun trying. What I need next, is not another notebook but a writing project.
Uniball Gel Impact ink handled well by the Rymans’ paper.
The Montegrappa “Monte Grappa” fountain pen might not be perfect, but mine holds a special place in my heart.
Montegrappa’s distinctive nib imprint and the “tunnel entrances” Monte Grappa cap ring.
I first purchased one of these, in the pretty lilac colour with 14k gold medium nib, from Harrods in November 2019. It was an impulse buy, for which my conscience later suffered and I took it back a few days later. The story was told in my brief encounter post, for those who like fountain pen love stories.
Then, as the winds of fortune blew in my favour once again, I got a second chance to own one at a very generous discount, from John Hall’s Write Here tables at the London Spring Pen Show of March 2023. John was ceasing to deal with Montegrappa and clearing his remaining stock. If price/value had been an issue for me previously, then it was no longer. John was down to his last one of this model. It was the smart, black version with a 14k gold nib in medium. I came away with a huge grin on my face and a saving of over 50%.
Montegrappa Monte Grappa, (third from the top) with an Aurora 88, TWSBI Eco and a Scribo Write Here Africa, for scale. (The Eco is not Italian, but all are piston fillers and the bottom three pens were all purchased from Write Here of Shrewsbury).
At home, I filled it with Diamine Conway Stewart Tavy, my go-to blue black, which immediately became its forever ink. A feature of the pen is the clicky piston filler which sounds and feels like winding a mechanical watch. You cannot see how much ink the pen is holding but can measure it by slowly ejecting the ink again and counting the drops. I am not sure whether purists call this a piston or a captive converter filler. I recall watching a short video from Montegrappa, proudly showing the patented new filling mechanism on its own, and explaining the various different materials that it comprised, (as related in my brief encounter post) but unfortunately I can no longer locate the video. * [see link below].
Picking up this pen after an interval, is always a joy. Its contours and weight all suggest quality, although in terms of Montegrappa’s range of fountain pens, it might be ranked as entry level to the upper echelons. Unusually, it was available with a choice of steel or gold nib.
On re-inking the pen recently I found in the following days, that the pen always left an inky stain on my second finger where I had rested the pen – rather like a smoker’s finger. Despite wiping the section carefully, this continued. I deduced that the ink was coming from behind the flared metal ring at the point where it meets the black resin section. Initially I thought that perhaps the ring had not been glued and sealed sufficiently such that ink would get trapped behind it when dipping in an ink bottle.
The offending ring (but a gorgeous nib).
To investigate, I flushed the pen and then unscrewed the nib and feed unit. The nib housing simply unscrews from the section. To my surprise, the metal ring then came off the section: it was not glued on at all. (Note: if disassembling a pen over a basin, be sure to have the plug in).
Monte Grappa nib disassembled. Note that the metal ring is not glued into place. Note also that the rubber O ring sits on the back of the nib housing.
I rinsed and dried all the components. Before reassembling, I took the opportunity to apply some silicone grease around the nib housing and particularly at the ridge where the metal ring is seated. I then screwed the nib housing back tightly into the section, whilst checking that the nib stayed centred over the feed and that the tines were level. I hoped that the combined steps of greasing and tightening the nib housing, would eradicate the inky finger issue.
The pen is now filled, (with Tavy, once again). So far there has been no recurrence of ink on the section.
Comparing writing samples in a Stalogy A5 journal.
Such tinkering with a pen on a peaceful Sunday morning is a satisfying activity and to be recommended. It is good to have the Monte Grappa back in rotation. But even when not in use, the remembrance that I own this pen can sometimes be drawn upon to help persuade myself that I do not need more gold nibbed Italian piston fillers. It should be noted however, that this psychology is not always successful.
*Update: I have since found the YouTube video, from Kenro Industries on the Montegrappa Monte Grappa, from six years ago. This featured the piston fill mechanism and can be seen here:https://youtu.be/xgv-FxRnHOU?si=lCtHb2GY-WMQLW-Q
Back in June, I attended the Birmingham Pen Show for the first time. My decision to go was made only a day before, on a long drive home to London from a week’s holiday in North Devon. It meant an early start but I could rest on the two hour train ride to Birmingham.
My train got me to Birmingham city centre by 10.20am and it was a short walk to the venue, the Birmingham Conference and Events Centre. The show is smaller in scale than the London pen shows, but bridges the gap between the London Spring and Autumn pen shows held in March and October.
The venue for the Birmingham Pen Show.
The website for UK Pen Shows promised “lots of vintage pens and new pens from world famous brands, ranging in price from £2.00 to many hundreds of pounds.” Sure enough, I found a table with Manuscript Calligraphy pens at £2.00. Unfortunately I do not recall the sellers’ names. Apparently, the pens been acquired for calligraphy classes at school but were surplus to requirements. The pen I chose was fitted with a Fine italic nib and came with two Medium italic nibs (complete grip sections with nibs and feeds). This was an irresistible bargain but the seller was pleased to clear them out of her cupboards.
Manuscript Calligraphy Pen, with two additional nib units.
As I came away with a few other pens and inks, it was a few days before I got round to inking the Manuscript. I filled it with Diamine Oxford Blue, using a standard converter that I had already. Otherwise, the pen takes standard international cartridges.
I have had a few Manuscript fountain pens before, with varying degrees of success. They are made in England. This one is a simple cylindrical shape in glossy black plastic with a snap cap and a metal pocket clip bearing the name MANUSCRIPT and plated in a gold colour. The clip is firm and would fit over thick materials if need be. Also the clip is attached at the top of the cap so that the pen will not protrude out of a pocket.
Cap with pocket clip. Two extra nib units.
The cap finial is also black plastic and has six holes arranged in a circle, like petals. The cap is not airtight. You can blow air through it and feel it coming out at the other end. Perhaps this is an anti-choking measure for young calligraphers, or else a breather hole to avoid pressure changes to the ink reservoir on capping or uncapping the pen.
Six vents in the cap finial.
This is a smallish pen, at 135mm capped or 123mm uncapped. It weighs just around 13g in all, (8g uncapped and 5g for the cap). The cap can be posted (with a bit of pushing) but then makes the pen very long at 172mm. I prefer to use it unposted. The grip section is on the slender side but is decent enough, with no annoying facets. The knurled section (knobbly bits) provide a secure grip. There is a little flange at the end of the section, to secure the cap firmly with a click.
A Fine italic nib is a lovely thing to have and is a popular choice of fountain pen enthusiasts as it can be used for general writing, adding distinction to one’s handwriting through the natural line width variation between the broad down stroke and fine cross stroke. The broader lines show off the ink colour to good advantage, as well as any shading that the ink provides.
Writing samples. See how I skipped an “r” in Manuscript the second time!
The disadvantage of an italic nib is that the corners of the nib are sharp and can dig in to the paper if you are not careful. Hence it is necessary to write slowly. But slowing down is perhaps the single most effective step in improving one’s handwriting: the benefits are
allowing the nib to be kept in the same orientation with the sweet spot flat on the paper to avoid catching;
more time to form each letter correctly, paying attention to keeping the loops open, keeping to the row guides, keeping ascenders and descenders parallel, keeping letter height (the “x height”) consistent, keeping spaces between words consistent and
writing at an even, measured pace, not in fast and slow bursts, but at rate which allows time to think what you are going to write next, to avoid mistakes (particularly in skipping or adding pen strokes) and also remembering the other tips to improve neatness and legibility above.
Thinking of all these things as you write with a pen, is a form of mindfulness, the practice of which calms the mind. You may also think about your posture (are you sitting with your back straight, not hunched?) and your breathing.
I do not profess to be a calligrapher but I do believe that in general, we write better with a fountain pen. A calligraphy pen such as this one may “help you to create beautiful writing” (as the box proclaims) and may also help you to relax in the process. For just £2.00 this was a no-brainer but even at full price, a calligraphy pen is a useful addition to your kit.
I have long been a fan of Diplomat’s metal bodied fountain pens, the Traveller, the Esteem and the Excellence and now own several. Yet it has taken until now for me try their lightweight, entry level offering, the Diplomat Magnum.
What little I knew about Diplomat can broadly be summarised thus: they were established in Germany in 1922; they are an underrated brand; and their nibs are of particularly good quality.
Diplomat pens are a rare sight in what few pen shops we have in the UK. But whilst browsing in the wonderful Pens Plus in Oxford in May, I was excited to find a display of Diplomat Magnum fountain pens in several different colours and chose the black one.
Diplomat Magnum, crow black fountain pen, beside a Lamy Safari for scale.
It is a smallish pen, particularly for one called “Magnum.” Although an entry level model, it still has Diplomat’s distinctive finial, showing their logo of black petals on a white background. Below the finial is a broad shiny metal band and a strong, springy, metal pocket clip.
Cap and finial.
The body of the pen is comprised of a black plastic, which on my “Crow black” model, is a stealthy dark matte grey. It feels smooth and solid, yet looks textured with a grainy finish which reflects the light. Whilst the cap is cylindrical, the barrel tapers and the curved surface is interrupted by three flat facets and two keystone-shaped ink windows.
Diplomat Magnum.
Removing the snap cap, which can be posted, there is a stainless steel nib finished in a matte grey, giving it the appearance of titanium. The nib is stamped DIPLOMAT MAGNUM and (on my model) M for medium. Other widths (EF, F and B) are available and can be purchased separately from Diplomat. The black plastic section also has three narrow facets, to provide an ergonomic grip but these are not obtrusive and can be bypassed if you prefer to hold the pen higher up.
A typically wonderful Diplomat steel nib.
The pen uses standard international cartridges. However, I borrowed a converter from another pen and filled it with my freshly-purchased Diamine Oxford Blue whilst still in the city and enjoying lunch in a cafe. Putting pen to paper for the first time provided one of those “Yes!” moments as the nib felt exquisitely smooth and a joy to use.
The pen, as I have said, is on the small side and the grip section is only around 9mm wide at most. Yet it has a pleasing feel, as if using a precision instrument. Indeed, with its grey colouring and facets, the design did put me in mind of the TWSBI Precision.
As well as Pens Plus, it is also available on Cult Pens’ website. The website diplomat-pen.com is well worth a visit. I read there that Diplomat pens are “manufactured with love and care by one of our eight employees.” Only eight! On its products page, the Magnum is described as “the writing instrument for everyday life, whether young or old, thanks to its ergonomic grip zone, it is suitable as a pen for children from the first grade.” I can vouch for that and have enjoyed using mine both at home and when out and about.
The firm’s website provides its address, as Erlenweg 14, Cunewalde, 02733, Germany. Looking this up on google’s street view site, shows a white building with Diplomat signage, in a yard behind metal gates, nestling in the midst of an attractive, picture-postcard residential community of cobbled streets and traditional-style, timber-framed houses. The Wikipedia entry for Cunewalde even mentions in its list of main sights of the village, that Diplomat Deutschland GmbH has been headquartered in Cunewalde since 1922.
Underside of nib and feed, after inking.
In conclusion, if like me, you had not yet tried a Diplomat Magnum then I recommend that you do so, whether a child in the first grade or not.
Last Sunday I enjoyed a day at the Birmingham Pen Show, held in the Birmingham Conference and Events Centre, “the BCEC” in Hill Street, a short walk from the main train stations. It was good to see so many of the familiar vendors whom I know from the London Pen Shows.
Before entering the main hall, I visited Michael Owen’s table, representing Writech. He asked me whether I had seen his retractable fountain pens. I had not! He had one on the table to try as well as a stand with examples of the pen in a range of pastel colours.
Retractable Fountain Pen and ink set, from Writech.
I picked up the pen and clicked open the nib. Actually, the clicking mechanism is almost silent, whether extending or retracting the nib, a boon for anyone using the pen in a meeting or quiet public environment, or sitting next to one!
When the knock is pressed, a little round plastic hatch door opens and out comes the nib, just like a ball pen. But unlike a ball pen, a door seals off the nib to stop the ink from drying out or evaporating away, whilst not in use.
In writing mode.
This is not new of course, Pilot having brought out the Capless in 1963, for the Tokyo Olympics of 1964. These have been followed by the Lamy Dialogue and, more recently, the Platinum Curidas.
Designing a fountain pen without a cap does present a challenge, to keep the nib from drying out between uses. The Curidas did this by means of a hatch door which opened onto the underside of the pen protected by two plastic protrusions, supposedly out of the way, but many found that the protrusions interfered with their grip. My own issue as a lefty, using the Curidas was that the pocket clip was at the nib-end of the pen and restricted my grip, since I wished to rotate the pen inwards. The clip could be detached, but this left a large protruding plastic “keel” which still got in the way, leading me to file mine off.
In the case of the Pilot Capless, or Vanishing Point, the pocket clip is also at the nib end as you write. If I held it in my natural, lefty-overwriter style, the nib would be turned inwards, and my thumb would be resting on the pocket clip, rather than the barrel.
The Writech avoids these problems completely. The pocket clip is at the back, or “knock” end of the pen, so the pen looks a lot more normal when in use, as the clip is where it would be on a ball pen, or a fountain pen with cap posted.
Nib and hatch door
However, the hatch door stowage is not quite so elegant. In a brave move, the hatch has been designed to stay open beside the nib in full view whilst the nib is out. This does look strange and is rather jarring at first and will, I expect, be the divisive, Marmite (love it or hate it) issue.
The steel nib is available as a Fine only. Initial impressions are very favourable. The tiny unmarked nib, with a slit but no breather hole, writes very smoothly and with an excellent steady flow.
Fair warning.
Filling the pen is a breeze. Simply unscrew the barrel, place a Writech cartridge in the section and push until it clicks being careful to keep your fingers out of the way as the nib will pop out at the other end. I found that the easiest way to insert a cartridge was to stand the cartridge upright on a table, and then push the section down on top of it.
Unscrewed and ready to fill.
I was sufficiently impressed with the pen, to buy two of them. Michael was selling these at £12.99 each, or £15.00 to include an extra box of cartridges which is remarkably good value compared to any other retractable nib fountain pen.
Two pen sets and two extra packs of cartridges.
One pack of 5 cartridges is supplied in the clear plastic clam-shell box with the pen. Unscrewing the pen for the first time, an empty cartridge is attached to show where it goes, but can also be kept to syringe-fill with the ink of your choice.
The packs of cartridges were available only in black or “Erasable Blue”. I have tried only the black ink. I am not sure whether the blue ink can be rubbed out (as with a Pilot Frixion) or whether the ink is washable. I will experiment with this on my next fill.
In conclusion, I have been using the pen for a week now. It is convenient and fun to use and I rather like seeing the hatch door flip open as the nib pops out, like a cuckoo clock. Above all the pen is comfortable to hold, writes very well and costs less than a Lamy Safari.
Likes:
Comfortable to use; cylindrical barrel and no protrusions in the grip area; (there are two very slight indentations, too small to call facets and barely there, for an ergonomic grip);
Nib extending and retracting mechanism works well;
Smooth, fine nib:
The airtight seal also works well, in keeping the nib ready to write; (Michael had tested this over several weeks);
The nib does not grip the feed, and so there should be less danger of the feeds cracking, as happened with some early Curidas pens;
Simple design and ease of filling;
At £12.99, these are great value, a lot of fun and write well.
Dislikes:
Not everyone will like the round hatch door open on the right, beside the nib;
The pen uses only Writech proprietary cartridges, a more expensive and limited option than standard international cartridges, (which might be how the company hopes to make money) but to be fair, the Pilot Capless, Lamy Dialogue and Platinum Curidas all used proprietary cartridges; Michael mentioned that an adaptor may be available later.
Although I love having the pocket clip at the back, mine does not quite align with the nib. It would be unpleasant to hold if the barrel threads stopped with the clip on the underside of the pen as you write;
The pocket clip requires that the pen be carried nib downward, contrary to conventional wisdom; I have not yet dared try carrying it upside down, preferring to carry it in a pen case, nib up, or stand it in a pen cup, nib up;
Although the black ink cartridge ink flows well, I found that it feathers on the paper of my Stalogy notebook, which is usually fountain pen friendly. However, on the laid paper of a Semi-Kolon A5 journal, there was no noticeable feathering;
I have not yet tried cleaning the pen but it might be best to use an open-backed cartridge to push open the nib hatch and flush the section, nib and feed;
As yet the pen does not have a distinctive name, (unlike the Capless/Vanishing Point, Dialogue or Curidas). Its model number “W-784” does not yet look as though it is intended for customer use.
I have had the pen for only one week and need more time to test for hard starts after a period of non use and also to simulate carrying the pen nib down in a shirt or jacket pocket on a warm day whilst running for a bus. Subject to my remaining on good terms with the pen, I will also try out its erasable blue ink cartridges.
We have just returned from a week’s holiday in Ilfracombe, North Devon. Our holiday flat was in a grand Victorian terrace, in a house dating from 1872 with stunning views of the harbour and the rocky coastline. We were also lucky to have a solid week of good weather and this made for a wonderful trip.
My journaling corner.
A week away involves choosing which writing tools to bring. I had my usual inner debate on whether to bring a selection or travel light and just bring one. As usual, I came down on the side of bringing a selection. The final tally amounted to five fountain pens, three roller balls, two ballpoint pens (one being a multi-pen) and one mechanical pencil. I also brought too many notebooks: A Leuchtturm A5 for holiday journaling, a Stalogy 365, A5 in a leather notebook cover for when out and about, a new Moderno (WHSmiths) A5 notebook for any creative writing (which I did not open all week!), a little red Silvine pocket memo book which I carry everywhere and an A5 Ryman’s sketchbook and a small set of watercolours.
To this, I added a square notepad bought at the RNLI shop near the harbour, little changed from their notepads that I used to get on family holidays some 50 years ago.
It transpired that I used only one of the five fountain pens, a newly acquired Lamy Nexx, purchased for its striking Neon Orange cap. I had not been a particularly big fan of the Lamy Nexx, with its rubber faceted grip but on giving it another chance and some sustained daily use, I found it very comfortable and it performed faultlessly. The bright orange cap shouts holiday vibes.
Nexx on the beach.
I used the blue Lamy cartridge that came with the pen. Writing each day in the Leuchtturm journal using a medium nib, the cartridge lasted for a respectable 38 pages.
When the Lamy finally ran dry, I switched to a Jacques Herbin clear demonstrator roller ball pen, (model 22500T) which uses standard international cartridges. I had bought this a few weeks earlier, at Pens Plus of Oxford and like it a lot, far in excess of its modest price-point. It has become my shirt-pocket pen, great for short notes or longer writing sessions too.
Jacques Herbin roller ball ink cartridge pen.
I did not discover any fountain pen shops, either in Ilfracombe or any other places we visited, not that I was in need of anything! But I thoroughly enjoyed my quiet time spent with my notebooks and pens, and watching the harbour activity from our windows.
With little more to report as to the performance of either the Lamy or the Jacques Herbin pen, there was some other, off-topic, “product testing” of some recently acquired items. First, I had picked up some lightweight, inexpensive Quechua, fabric waterproof hiking boots from Decathlon, and was glad of the chance to try these out in the hilly coast paths. There are lovely walks on Hillsborough Hill, (known as “The Elephant’s Head”) which we could see from our flat and this was a good testing ground for the boots.
The Elephant’s Head, Ilfracombe.
Unlike my leather Karrimor boots, the Quechuas are extremely light and comfortable and as soft as slippers, yet provide a tough, grippy sole. On my first hill walk I found that having opted for a larger size for the added width, my feet slid around a little inside the boots on descents. However, on my next walk, I solved this simply by lacing the boots more tightly.
Decathlon Quechua hiking boots.
Another feature of the boots is their claim to being waterproof. In dry, summer conditions there was not the scope to try these for a long walk in heavy rain. However they stood up well to wading through shallow rockpools on the beach, keeping my socks and feet dry. Being so light, they would not provide enough support and protection for very rugged terrain. Having read mixed reviews of these, I am keen to see how they fare over the next 12 months or so.
Another recent acquisition immediately prior to the holiday, was a Casio G-Shock wristwatch, bought chiefly for its 20 bar water resistance (equivalent to approximately 200 metres) for swimming in the sea.
Casio G-Shock model GA-2100-1AER in a rockpool.
Being lightweight, comfortable and easy to read with its white hands on a black dial, I enjoyed wearing this all week. My only complaint would be that the digital readouts in the lower right quadrant are too small and dark (unless viewed in line with a light source), but in practice, it is better that these are not too prominent and distracting as, nine times out of ten, I just want to read the time.
Tunnels Beaches, Ilfracombe. A sheltered cove with a tidal pool (submerged here at high tide) accessed only by tunnels through the cliffs, dug in 1823.
Finally, back from my week away, I tested my other inked pens for hard starts. All did well. Only the Parker 51 Vacumatic needed a moment and a light moistening of the nib, but for a 1940’s pen, this is entirely understandable.
This post is unashamedly about an entry-level school pen for those who enjoy trying fountain pens from the lower end of the spectrum.
It is getting on for six years since I wrote a post on the Stabilo EASYbuddy, a chunky, robust, plastic fountain pen designed for children. The EASYbirdy looks very similar but has some important differences.
Stabilo EASYbirdy fountain pen.
Examined side by side, the EASY birdy is about 10mm shorter when capped, yet the same length as the EASYbuddy when uncapped. The EASYbirdy has a shorter barrel, a longer section, a smaller and “unglazed” pair of ink windows, unequal length facets for the thumb and forefinger, and a semi-hooded nib.
Stabilo EASYbirdy with Stabilo EASYbuddy (right) and Lamy Nexx (left).
But the most significant distinctions are that (a) the EASYbirdy is available in Left or Right handed versions and (b) has an adjustable nib-housing, allowing the nib to be rotated either left or right, or centred, in relation to the grip facets.
Nib housing showing different settings.
As a lefty-overwriter myself, I was intrigued by this design. I was keen to see how it worked and whether it was of any benefit to me. I spotted a half-hidden display of these pens in a local stationery/computer repair shop, on a shelf behind numerous boxes of roller-ball and gel pens.
The EASYbirdy sample tray contained six pens: three for left-handers and three for right-handers. The pens for lefties were all in pink and green with “L” at the tip of the barrel. The pens for righthanders were green and blue with “R” on the barrel.
It took me a while to spot how the left and right hand versions differed, before eventually noticing that the facet for your forefinger came down a little further than the facet for your thumb. This hardly seems necessary but I suppose it helps towards a grip whereby the forefinger is flatter against the section instead of being bent at a right-angle.
The shorter facet is for the thumb on this left-handed model.
Having grasped this, I was still confused about the off-setting of the nib and why there were so many display samples in the tray. The answer is that a customer, whether left or right handed, can try writing with pens with nibs pre-set to left, right or centre, (labelled as -1, 0, and +1) to see which is most comfortable.
The retailer can then dial in this adjustment to a new pen, using his special plastic Stabilo tool (NOT sold with the pen). If not right, the pen can always be brought back for the nib rotation to be altered.
With facets at “ten to two”, this shows my nib rotated for a lefty overwriter.
The only other fountain pen that I can think of with a faceted grip and the ability to rotate the nib, was the Parker 75 in which you simply gripped the nib and feed, and twisted them one way or the other as desired. The EASYbirdy system is different: a tool is needed. Also, you do not apply the tool to the front end of the pen, as you might expect. Rather, you remove the barrel and use the tool to loosen the housing from inside the section. Once loose, the angle can be altered and the tool is used to tighten it up and lock it in place.
Likes.
The steel nib writes smoothly and with good flow. The pen takes standard international cartridges. If using the short ones, there is room for a spare in the barrel, making for a great outdoor and EDC pen. The length of the pen uncapped, at around 133mm together with the generous girth (even allowing for facets) makes for a comfortable pen. The left and right options, together with the ability to rotate the nib, means that there should be a version and setting for everyone.
A cartridge inserted with room for a spare in the barrel.
Dislikes.
The need for a tool, which is not included with the purchase, is a little disappointing. I can understand that, once set up in the shop, most people may not want or need the tool again. Personally I would like to have my own or it would be even better if the tool could somehow be built into the cap or barrel. The push-cap is secure but does not click. It does not post either, although the pen is long enough without posting. The colour scheme of pink and green is not to my taste, although distinctive. I accept that I am not the target age group.
Conclusion.
I am not generally a fan of faceted grip sections on fountain pens, which dictate how you must hold the pen to the paper and punish you with uncomfortable ridges if you do not comply. But here we have a rubbery ergonomic grip with the option to rotate the nib. The pen fits the user; the user does not have to fit the pen. I do find that I can hold the pen at the facets whilst still having my nib rotated inwards. For lefties especially, this could make writing a little more comfortable, whatever your age.
In April I spent a delightful week in Shropshire on the Netley Hall Estate, a few miles south of Shrewsbury. The Shropshire Hills National Landscape is a beautiful region. We enjoyed visiting nearby towns, with streets lined with picturesque half-timbered buildings dating from Tudor times.
A street scene in Ludlow.
I was eager to visit Write Here, the superb independent fountain pen shop in the heart of Shrewsbury. This was my first time in the town and I had hoped to visit ever since learning of this shop and meeting John Hall regularly at pen shows.
Write Here, Shrewsbury.
The shop was everything I had expected, and more! I could have spent hours browsing the fountain pen displays. It was just as well that I was constrained by the two hours maximum stay where I had parked my car, plus the knowledge that my wife and mother-in-law were meeting me in a nearby coffee shop.
In the preceding days, I had formed a desire to buy a Scribo, a grail pen at the outer-limits of my spending comfort zone, although quite which version and with which nib, I had not decided. I had tactfully asked my wife whether there were any rules that I needed to know before visiting the shop. “Only buy one pen” she replied. Right. Better make it a good one then.
In the shop John asked whether there was anything in particular that I would like to look at. I asked to see two Scribos: one being the Write Here “Africa” and the other, a Feel “Blu Califfo.” (The Blue Caliph is a variety of fig and the pen is a lovely deep dark blue with small bursts of orange in the resin).
The Scribo Write Here pens are produced for Write Here in annual limited editions of just fifty numbered pieces, the “Africa” being the current version. Previous edition colours were (1) grey with lime green, the Write Here shop colours; (2) Cardinal red and Noble green (the only year in which the fifty pens were split between two colours); (3) Blue; (4) Tropea (named after a type of red onion); and (5) Mariana Deep Blue.
A Scribo Write Here Africa.
Like the Scribo Feel but without its faceted body or bulbous barrel, the Scribo Write Here editions are also piston fillers and have the same renowned gold nibs and ebonite feeds, in 14k (extra flessible) or 18k gold, with Rhodium plating. Others have already reviewed the Scribo Write Here fountain pens, including UK Fountain Pens, SBRE Brown, The Pencil Case Blog and Dapprman. What follows is the tale of my own purchase and getting acquainted with the pen, rather than another review.
Scribo was formed by employees of the former Omas pen company and produces nibs with the same tools and to the same specification as Omas. I have never owned an Omas pen but it is common knowledge that the Scribo Feel and Write Here models have very desirable nibs which are just like the Omas OM81 nibs of old.
The 18k gold broad nib.
Back to my decision-making. John provided a table and ink and anticipated that I may wish to use my own paper. I produced my Stalogy A5 notebook and had a blissful time trying both the Feel Blu Califfo and the Write Here Africa. I soon decided that I would not go home without buying one of them!
To narrow down the options, I ruled out the 14k Extra Flessible nibs as these can be difficult to use for a lefty-overwriter and easy to spring. That still left a range of beautiful nibs in 18k gold. I tried the Africa with a fine nib. John then swapped in a new broad nib for me to try. In the Blu Califfo I tried an extra fine, which I also liked. I did not need to try the extra extra fine.
The Africa cap.
I was struggling to chose between the Africa and the Blu Califfo as I liked elements from both. The Blu Califfo was a gorgeous blue, my favourite colour and very slightly longer. I liked its faceted body but not so much the aesthetics of the bulbous barrel meeting the straight section, although admittedly, very comfortable to hold.
The Africa however, was like a vintage tortoiseshell colouring but more hardcore, like a leopard and with patches of clear acrylic resin. This had one advantage, namely that you could see the ink level between the black and golden-brown flecks of colour.
Nib-unit and section.
To help with my deliberations, John suggested showing me something completely different. I then enjoyed his personal guided tour of all the pen displays, including Pilot, Sailor, TWSBI, Conway Stewart and a generous range of Leonardo pens, with his comments on the various merits of them all. This was refreshing and I saw several pens that I had not seen in the flesh before. As John said, most pens look better in real life than in photographs.
Returning to the table, I weighed up the two Scribos again. As I felt that I would be happy either way, I chose the Africa on the grounds that you could see the ink level, it did not have the bulbous barrel or metal ring at the end of the section and was also the lower priced of the two.
As for nibs, I already had a good number of pens with medium and fine gold nibs but fewer with broad nibs, especially a stubby broad. John added, perceptively, that I had looked the most comfortable whilst trying the broad nib. This clinched it and so I became the happy owner of the Scribo Write Here Africa, number 25/50, with an 18k broad nib.
Scribo Write Here Africa unboxing.
I would like to say that I took it home and all ended happily ever after. I should have filled the pen and just got on with it, allowing it to run in, but could not stop myself from tinkering with the nib. On close examination, I felt that the nib was not quite centred over the feed. Foolishly, I tried to adjust this by twisting the nib in situ, as though it were a steel Jinhao. This might have moved the nib by the tiny amount needed, but put the tines out of alignment. This required some further tweaking, until the tines and the tipping were level again. Another problem then manifested itself, in that the tines rubbed and clicked against each other whenever I put pen to paper, which I hate. I managed to cure this by flossing the tines with my thinnest gauge of brass shim, checking that the tines were still level. But this may have added to what was already a generous ink flow.
Stubby broad tipping and an ebonite feed!
The writing experience of this beautifully crafted nib was initially marred by skipping and overly wet ink flow. For the first two weeks, I probably tinkered with the nib every day, trying to get it to be as good as it could possibly be. The tipping was super-smooth and gave a juicy broad down stroke and a fine cross stroke. By holding the pen vertical, a double broad effect was achievable. By turning the pen over, the tipping allowed a stubby fine line, which was useful but scratchy.
One of my many pages of writing samples.
I also changed inks every couple of days and am already on my fifth ink. I wondered whether, in view of my nib tuning efforts, I should heat-set the nib and ebonite feed. I read a few different and conflicting guides on this. Using hot water to heat the feed is safer than a flame. One account warned that hot water might discolour the ebonite. But after holding back for a few days, I could no longer resist trying the hot water technique. I unscrewed the nib housing, extracted the nib and feed carefully, checked symmetry over the feed and pushed them back in their housing. I boiled some water, poured it into an egg cup and then dipped the nib and feed in the water for 30 seconds. I then withdrew them from the water and pinched them together for 20 seconds.
The better way to align nib and feed.
The result is that all now looks good again. The nib is still super-smooth and prefers paper with a bit of texture. It skips at the beginning of words sometimes, which I think may be due to “baby’s bottom” but this is improving and should continue to do so. It still writes very wet but I am reluctant to try narrowing the tine gap in case I reintroduce the tine-clicking issue, or put a bend in the tines.
Notwithstanding these self-induced tribulations, I love using the pen. I still cannot walk past it without picking it up to write a few lines or more. The feel of this nib on paper, its bounce and the line that it produces are addictive and the pen is like nothing else in my collection.
Rather than this being a pen nib that needed taming, it may be truer to say that it was I, who should have shown a bit more patience before subjecting it to my nib-tuning experiments. But I am confident now that the pen will be great if I can allow it to settle down.
I am thrilled to own a Scribo at last and am most grateful to John Hall at Write Here for giving me so much of his time on my visit.
A view from The Burway, near Church Stretton. Some students meeting some sheep.
Recently, I was thrilled to win an eBay auction for an attractive, marbled blue and grey vintage fountain pen. It was a lever filler with a 14k gold nib. The sac had been replaced and it looked to be in good condition. I had looked at the seller’s photographs again and again in the week before the auction.
When it arrived, it looked even prettier in person than in the photographs, although much smaller than I had expected. I believe it to be a Burnham 54, although there is no imprint on the barrel and I know little about this brand. There were many variants of the model 54 and numerous other clues to look for in the finial, pocket clip, branding on the clip, the number of cap rings, the inscription on the nib and the shape and markings of the lever filler.
Burnham 54 fountain pen.
In his book “Fountain Pens” by Peter Twydle, (2009), he includes a few paragraphs about Burnham in his chapter on manufacturers. He writes “The pen trade has recognized Burnham, perhaps unfairly, as the poor man’s Conway Stewart.” The company was started by Harry Burnham in London in the 1920’s and continued until the 1960’s. Their pens were mostly lever fillers and used similar materials to Conway Stewart, but being less prestigious and lower priced, became thought of as school pens.
Rounded finial, branded clip and two cap rings on my version.
For a detailed account of Burnham pens, there is a comprehensive study on the WES website, (the Writing Equipment Society), wesonline.co.uk from 2011 by Alan Charlton, on Burnhamography. Meanwhile, my post here is more of a “show and tell” since I know little about this pen.
Uncapped. The classic proportions mask its diminutive size.
Had I known how small the pen was by current standards, even though beautifully-proportioned, I would probably not have bid. This would have been a great shame as I have found the pen very comfortable and enjoyable to use. As I have tended to avoid pens which I thought of as too short or too slim, this was an exciting revelation with a potential to extend the already vast rabbit warren.
After flushing the pen, I filled it with Waterman Serenity Blue. It filled well. The writing experience from the 14k gold nib was a joy: silky smooth, broad, with an optimal flow and just a little bounce, that you might call semi-flex. This more than compensated for any shortness or skinniness of the pen. I cannot tell you whether the barrel and cap material is celluloid or plastic, or whether the feed is ebonite or plastic. I have avoided posting the cap and instead have grown accustomed to holding this little pen unposted.
Very clean nib, marked “Burnham 14 ct Gold.”Smooth feed. Ebonite, I think.
The screw cap comes off in just over two full rotations. The cap threads are multi-start and I found that by inserting the pen (nib up) into the cap, pocket clip up, and turning the pen one click the wrong way before tightening, the lever almost aligns with the clip.
On a recent short break in the beautiful Shropshire countryside, I took the Burnham and used it every day for some holiday journaling in a Leuchtturm A5 notebook. The nicely-tuned vintage nib, with its heart-shaped breather hole, performed as well as any other nib I have ever experienced, at any price. One fill managed more than 12 pages, before it was time to enjoy the lever-filling experience again.
Size and weight:
Capped, the pen measures about 121mm and uncapped, only 109mm. The weight is about 11.5 grams capped, comprised as to 7 grams for the pen and 4.5 grams for the cap. These figures are pretty minimal and might sound off-putting but my experience has been that what the pen lacks in size and weight is more than made up for, by its cuteness and the sensation of writing with the smooth and bouncy nib.
Trying out my new old pen. Waterman Serenity Blue; Stalogy 018 Editor’s Series 365 days notebook.
The moral of this tale is that you might surprise yourself, using a pen that goes against your usual criteria. This is good news, unless like me, you are trying (weakly) to resist more pens incoming.
Edit: Here is a photo to show the comparative size of the Burnham 54, against a Parker 51 Demi, a Parker 51 standard and a Parker 45.
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