It’s time to wake up this blog for another year and, where better to start than with a brief review of the diary that I plan to use?
For 2024, I used a Ryman A5, soft cover, flexi, Page A Day diary for my daily journaling, summarising what I did with the previous day. Occasionally, this might include a list of things I am grateful for (if I can be unselfish enough for a few moments, to remember). My post on the new year diary, 2024 can be re-read here.
This year, I went for the closest equivalent that I could find, which was again from my local Ryman stationers. Whilst seemingly much like last years, I was glad to notice several subtle improvements have been introduced. These are as follows:-
Instead of last year’s horizontal thin elastic closure, we now have a more conventional, vertical ribbon elastic closure. I disliked the old style, since with short finger nails, it was fiddly to lift the elastic to open the book – an issue for which I designed a simple hack, namely tying a piece of pink ribbon to the elastic.
Whilst retaining the same soft texture of the covers, last year’s flexible cover has been replaced with a stiffer cover, which I like. It also does away with the need for the little metal reinforcement tab on the edge of the front cover to protect it from being worn by the elastic. Over the year, that piece of metal had lifted, leaving a sharp edge which was a danger to adjacent books.
A Pen loop has been added, to the back cover. I don’t actually use it (other than for this photo) but it could be useful.
Something that I have only today noticed, the row height has been increased very slightly from 7.6mm to 7.9mm. I must admit, I was assuming that they were both 8mm until I checked.
Best of all, the 2025 edition now includes a Page A Day for Saturdays and Sundays, whereas last year they shared a page.
Otherwise, the two editions are much the same, with a ribbon page marker, cream paper which is fountain pen friendly and with sewn binding, to open flat without damage.
This suits my needs very nicely. For longer entries, such as holiday journaling, I use a separate Leuchtturm A5 notebook, with either plain paper or dot grid. Day to day pen and ink sampling and therapeutic pen time is done in a Stalogy A5 Editor Series 4mm grid, 365 page note book, a product which I have now used and enjoyed for several years.
For bullet-journaling, I upgraded my old Ryman A4 notebook to a WHSmiths Moderna Ruled A4 Leather Notebook, with 96 ivory sheets of 100gsm paper. I have set this up with monthly spreads, for the years 2024 to 2029 inclusive. It is very useful to log dates which are a year or more in advance, such as car and house insurance renewals, guarantee expiry dates, or investment product maturity dates. As well as these grown-up uses, I also like to include books read, albums listened to, trips to the gym and other day to day life admin.
So there you have it. Here’s wishing everyone a Happy New Year and hoping for happy events to plan and record in our diaries for 2025!
I am enjoying a run of good luck in my fountain pen acquisitions. Hot on the heels of my “four countries and six new pens in a week” cruise ship holiday, I stumbled across a vintage Aurora in an antiques market.
This happened in Spitalfields Market, where my wife and I had come to buy her a hat. Actually, she may have spotted the pens before I did. There, on a shelf, displayed in its Aurora box, was a fountain pen that I was unfamiliar with.
The sticker is from E.E. Ercolessi, a shop in Milan.
This was a slim, cylindrical pen with a glossy gun-metal finish and a gold-coloured pocket clip, cap-band and barrel end. Pulling off the snap-cap revealed a black section and a gold-coloured nib, flat topped with bends at the sides, a bit like a Lamy Safari nib but with no visible imprint. A generous blob of tipping and the condition of the body all suggested that the pen had seen little use.
Like new.
Generally speaking, I do not gravitate towards slim pens. However, for a vintage Aurora I was prepared to make an exception. It was mine for £20.00.
Aurora Marco Polo fountain pen.
With no papers in the box, I tried to think of the pen’s name. The name “Profil” kept coming to mind but no, that was a Lamy range. Then I remembered the name Hastil. Was it a Hastil perhaps? For a brief time, I thought it was.
Examining my purchase at home, I found the only bit of branding, the name AURORA in tiny letters on the cap but, unusually, printed in line with the pocket clip and barely noticeable on a casual inspection. I also discovered that the cap was cleverly designed to post, with a satisfying click, to add a bit of heft and length, making a very comfortable unit.
Subtle branding
I flushed the section and then pushed in a brown Aurora cartridge, from a box which I had fortuitously bought at a recent pen show. It wrote beautifully, with a nice medium line, good flow, no skipping, no hard-starts, no scratchiness. I was delighted.
Also, I surprised myself in finding that I took so well to such a slim pen. This was a revelation rather like when, as a teenager, I discovered that I did like strawberries after all.
Some research on the internet and in old Aurora catalogues, revealed that my pen was not the Hastil. From a similar pen being sold on eBay, I gathered that mine was the Aurora Marco Polo. (Marco Polo, c. 1254-1324, Venetian merchant, explorer and writer). I did read up about the Hastil, and learned that it was designed by Marco Zanuso, and introduced in 1970. The slim, cylindrical metal design was so novel and successful that the Hastil became the first fountain pen to be exhibited in the permanent collection of The Museum of Modern Art, New York.
I gather that my pen came later, and whilst sharing some superficial similarities to the Hastil, it did not have the Hastil’s gold nib (in a distinctive, scoop shape) nor the cap which was flush with the barrel – yet postable due to a barely perceptible tapering of the barrel. The Hastil also had a special recessed pocket clip feature.
I had not seen an Aurora Hastil in the flesh. But then by a strange coincidence, we were visiting a friend in north London, just a few days after my purchase of the Aurora. Knowing of my interest in pens, she went to dig out a few old pens to show me. Imagine my surprise, when one of these was an Aurora Hastil, complete with its original, extraordinary, metal cylinder box, with papers, a pair of unused Aurora cartridges (from which the ink had almost entirely evaporated) and the accompanying converter, called the Trik-Trak. Our friend could shed no light whatsoever on how she came to have this pen. I suspect that it had been purchased by or gifted to her husband, long since deceased.
The not-so-subtle Aurora Hastil canister. Unboxing: the sliding cover reveals the cartridges and converter.
Having spent the previous few evenings gleaning information on the internet, I was thrilled to see an actual Aurora Hastil and took a few photos of it. These are not vintage pens that you come across very often. Fortunately, our friend’s son is a fountain pen enthusiast who will appreciate its worth.
Aurora Hastil fountain pen (c.1970’s).The distinctive 14k gold nib of the Aurora Hastil.
Finally, my lucky streak did not end here: with my Pen Repair Course approaching, I had popped into a local antiques shop to ask whether they had any old pens, as I needed some to work on. The proprietor rummaged in a box, in a dimly lit corner of his cluttered shop piled high with furniture and all manner of bric-a-brac. He then emerged with a bundle of five fountain pens, namely a Parker 51 aerometric, a Parker Slimfold, two lever-fillers: – a ‘Swan’ Mabie Todd SF2 and a Pitman College and finally a black plastic “Marksman” Chinese pen. He would not sell them separately but only as a job lot. I bought the lot, and got them all clean and working again. I have been having a great time with them but will save this for another post.
This month, I was fortunate enough to spend a week on a cruise ship, the MSC Preziosa. From Southampton, the trip would take us to Hamburg, Rotterdam, Zeebrugge and Le Havre. Four countries in a week!
The MSC Preziosa
I had been looking forward to the holiday, not only the shore visits but the time at sea, relaxing on the ship and the copious amounts of food and entertainment on board. In particular, I was looking forward to some pen time, writing up my journal in the cabin or any of the comfortable lounges and dining areas when time allowed.
I took four vintage fountain pens. These were a Conway Stewart 15, a Burnham 61, another Conway 15 and an Eversharp Skyline. All are lever-fillers and freshly filled with Waterman inks: Intense black, Serenity blue, Audacious red and Harmonious green, respectively. My plan was to rotate these four pens, writing with a different one each day. For journaling, I brought a Leuchtturm A5 dot grid hardback notebook.
This system worked well. Each day’s entry was written in a different colour from the day before. In practice there was some overlap, when I wrote some more about the previous day but would already be on a new colour.
Another benefit would be the ease of measuring the page capacity of each pen (all recent acquisitions), by counting the pages written in each colour. However none of them has yet run dry and so this test is still in progress.
Another holiday pursuit, was seeking out fountain pen shops wherever we travelled. I had long been telling myself (and my wife tells me too) that I do not need more fountain pens, but I take it that such rules do not apply when outside the UK jurisdiction. At the very least, they are less rigorously enforced.
Ling, fully on board for Gala Night.
Over the course of the week, I managed to buy six fountain pens! These were all modest purchases, ranging in cost from three Euros, up to 60 Euros at most, all cartridge-converter pens and all with steel nibs. Nevertheless, finding and buying each of these brought me a great deal of pleasure and they continue to make me happy, long after the cruise is over. Here is an account of the new pens that came home with me.
Hamburg.
Despite its proximity to the UK, this was only my first time in Germany. A well-travelled friend had once told me that the pharmacy chain Mullers, often sold school pens, from brands such as Online. Our taxi dropped us near the splendid City Hall and from there we walked almost seven miles with our tourist map, taking in the main sites including churches, the concert hall, and the historic dockland warehouses.
Trying to blend in. In the background, is the Elbphilharmonie, Hamburg.
I did not come across a Mullers but we did briefly visit a modern shopping mall, Europa Passage where I had a quick look for any pen shops. I found a hobby craft shop called idee, where a helpful assistant showed me a small selection of Lamy Safaris. One of these, in a new “light rose” with matching clip and finial, appealed to me. I was surprised to find that all the Safari fountain pens were inked and could be tested before purchase. This pink one wrote very nicely (as expected with Lamy) and this became my souvenir from Germany.
Rotterdam.
I had Googled for fountain pen shops in Rotterdam and the top result was Hummelman. After a nice walk across the bridge from the cruise terminal and along the waterfront and a visit to a few of the main attractions in the city centre, such as the market, the cube houses and City Hall, I took a walk to find Hummelman. This turned out to be a couple of miles from the centre but was well worth the visit.
Hummelman pen shop, Rotterdam.
I learned that this family-run shop had been established in the 1930’s and now run by the third generation of the family. The genial proprietor, Vincent, kindly allowed me to take some photos and to take my time having a long browse around the displays. It was such a treat to find a bricks and mortar store with such a wide selection of brands and models and an enthusiastic and knowledgeable owner. I chose a green Monteverde Ritma – a large and hefty metal pen with a glossy gunmetal magnetic cap, and a blue Faber-Castell Essentio (or Basic), which was also in metal. Previously I had seen only plastic barrelled version with rubber grip section. Both of these pens were available in various colours and nib widths.
Stepping into Hummelman.
Vincent saw me studying his vast display of inks, which reached from floor to ceiling and referred me to his helpful book of ink swatch cards, carefully made by hand and grouped by brand. He told me that his father does the swatches. I chose a Jacques Herbin Lie de thé.
Just some of the fountain pen inks at Hummelman.
Of these two pens, I am finding the Faber-Castell to be easier. The fine nib is a joy: firm but smooth and effortless. The body and finish definitely feels like an upgrade from the plastic and rubber versions I had used before. As for the Monteverde, the glossy polished metal section is slippy, as I might have known. The magnetic cap works well and leaps into place with a click to fit flush with the barrel, whether on capping the pen or posting the cap. On my model, the stealthy black fine nib needed some smoothing and this, coupled with the insecure grip, makes the pen a bit tricky to use, but it is a handsome and weighty beast.
Great selections of Faber-Castell models and nib choices.
Zeebrugge.
This is the port for the stunningly beautiful medieval town of Bruges, about 30 mins drive inland. When I was there last, in 2016, I had sought out a pen shop that I found online, named De Corte. This is another shop now owned by the third generation of the family, having started in the 1920’s. I have fond memories of finding the shop but having to peer at the window as the shop was closed. Fortunately the proprietor, Iris de Corte spotted me and allowed me to come inside and look around, as she was taking product photos for a proposed website.
The delightful De Corte pen shop, plus stationery and leather goods.
This time, the shop was open and I was happy to find Iris again, serving a customer. When I reminded her of my last visit of 8 years ago, she laughed and said that she had still not set up the website! She far prefers to meet customers face to face and to enable them to try a pen before buying. She told me that the number of such fountain pen shops is now very small. When I mentioned Hummelman’s in Rotterdam, she told me that she knew them! It is a very small world.
Ms Iris De Corte
Of course, I wished to buy a pen from Iris. I chose a Caran d’Ache 849 in red – the colour of Caran d’Ache and of the Swiss flag. As the joke goes, “You could say a lot of bad things about Switzerland but their flag is a big plus.” When I had first tried one of these pens, several years ago, I had dismissed it as being too slim and having an uncomfortable step down from barrel to section. However in practice, having spent time using the pen, neither of these points is an issue for me. I enjoy its pencil-like hexagonal cap and barrel, the satisfying click on capping the pen and the neat way the cap can be posted, flush with the barrel. It also writes very well.
Le Havre.
My wife and I had booked an excursion from the port of Le Havre, to visit Honfleur. This is a picture-postcard town of pretty timber-framed houses, picturesque streets of shops and art galleries and interesting churches and waterfront places to explore: an absolute gem.
A street scene in Honfleur.
Before getting immersed in this historic town, I popped into a supermarket for a quick look for a stationery aisle. I found one and could not resist buying a fountain pen for three Euros, including two cartridges. It had no brand name other than the name of the shop, “Casino, stylo plume” on the blister pack. Back outside, I loaded a cartridge, putting the second one in the barrel as a spare. After the pen had sat in my pocket for a few minutes, I tried it out in my notebook. To my surprise, it wrote immediately and with a lovely smooth flow. If only all pens were this good!
My final pen purchase of the trip came at the end of the day, back in Le Havre. Again, it was a supermarket in the city centre where I found an ideal souvenir: a Waterman Allure, made in France, in brushed stainless steel and with an improved plastic grip area. When I had bought an Allure previously, I disliked the grip section with a surface that defied gripping. In frustration, I had gouged grooves in it to stop the pen sliding around in my hand. Thankfully, this problem has been fixed, at least on the stainless steel versions now sold in Le Havre!
Again, this Waterman wrote beautifully, straight out of the box and makes a great EDC pen, encased in steel and with its large capacity Waterman cartridge.
Waterman Allure, brushed stainless steel.
The following day, our cruise ended and we disembarked at Southampton, tired but happy. I was pleased with my purchases. Returning with six additional pens inked will delay the emptying of my four vintage pens but this is a small price to pay for the joys of the holiday haul.
The four vintage pens on the right. The six new arrivals on the left.
Here in London, our Autumn pen show took place on 13 October. As always, I had a wonderful day, meeting dozens of friends and acquaintances in the fountain pen community, both punters like myself, and dealers. Unfortunately, I failed completely to take any photos but am sure that others will have this covered.
This year, the show seemed bigger and better than ever. My wife and I did not arrive until mid-morning, when the show was in full swing, but it was clear that there were many more sellers than in recent years, including many from overseas, such that two large halls at the Novotel, Hammersmith were filled, with rows of tables, crowds of enthusiasts and a happy buzz of buying and selling. From what I heard, there was a long queue for the early-bird admission, for those eager for a first bite at the cherry.
Also, this show was different for me as I now find myself drawn increasingly to vintage pens rather than modern (although not entirely). I recently enrolled for the Pen Repair course, starting in November and available to WES (Writing Equipment Society) members. In preparation for this we had been advised to gather a few examples of certain pens to practice upon in the classes. My wife was better at keeping me on track to steer me towards the vintage tables, whereas left to my unaccompanied state, I have a tendency to be distracted and excited by every table.
The browsing was soon interrupted by a most enjoyable lunch with many from our pen club, at the nearby pub and restaurant, Latymers, where we gathered to refuel and see each others’ acquisitions.
We returned to the show after lunch. Despite spending less time in the show than I would have liked, I still came away with eight pens. However, for my first time at a pen show, these were all vintage pens. I bought no modern pens, notebooks or inks, not that I needed any!
Such was the fervour of my shopping spree that it was not until I got home that I could take stock of what I had bought, from whom, and what I had spent. The final tally was that my eight pens had cost a total of exactly £300.00, off-set by another pen which I sold for £100.00, to leave a net outlay of £200.00. I was content with that. Also, none of the pens had cost more than £60.00.
So without further ado, here are my purchases:
My vintage haul.
Parker Slimfold, green; 14k gold No. 5 nib;
Eversharp Skyline, green and black: 14k gold nib; (very excited with this one);
Sheaffer, black, (model not yet identified) Touchdown filler; two-tone steel nib; made in Australia;
Sheaffer Clipper Statesmen, Snorkel filler, black, stainless steel nib (needing repair), made in USA; (see update)
Sheaffer Clipper Valiant, Snorkel filler, Burgundy, 14k two tone nib, made in USA. (see update)
Grouped and uncapped:- Parker; Eversharp; Conway Stewart; Sheaffer.
I spent a happy evening, inking and testing half of these. The remainder, minus the one that is for repair, I inked and tested the following day. There are a variety of nib widths. The Parker has the usual squeeze bar filler. The rest are all lever fillers, Touchdowns or Snorkels.
The Eversharp Skyline is the first that I have owned. The seller, Heritage Collectables, had several to choose from but the green striped cap was calling to me! It writes with a lovely smooth effortless flow.
My first Eversharp Skyline.
I did not appreciate until I got home that my two Conway Stewarts were both 15s, although the red one is marked “Conway” and the black one “Conway Stewart.” One is a fine and the other broad and I am delighted with them both. (A recent eBay purchase, a black lever fill Burnham 61, which is very similar in size to the Conway Stewart 15, was a surprise success and now one of my favourite pens).
The Conway 15, lever filler.
Of the four Sheaffers, the smaller, green Sheaffer is, I believe, a Craftsman, Touchdown filler and has a dreamy, 14k gold EF nib. I am always thrilled at how enjoyable these vintage pens can be, for so little outlay.
Sheaffer Craftsman Touchdown, Extra Fine. An ink window in the Sheaffer Craftsman.
There is a black, steel nibbed Sheaffer from Australia, a Touchdown filler but a model that I have not yet identified. It was rescued from a bin of jumbled pens, each only £20.00 yet seems to be working well and with a decent smooth nib, but having a loose clip.
Finally, there are the two Sheaffer Snorkels, which I think are the Clipper model but I am not yet certain. Of these, the Burgundy model is functioning well, whereas the black one needs attention and was purchased cheaply to practice upon.
Update edit, 14 October 2024: I have since learned that there were some 13 different named versions of the Sheaffer Snorkel filler, which can be identified according to whether or not there is a white dot on the cap, whether the nib is open or a “Triumph” style, conical nib, whether the nib is made of Gold or a Palladium/Silver alloy (sometimes marked PdAg), and whether the cap is of plastic or metal. From this, I now think that my Burgundy snorkel is the Valiant, whilst the black snorkel is a Statesman, but I may be wrong! The nib of my black snorkel is a Triumph style, monotone silver-coloured but the imprint consists only of SHEAFFER’S, with no hallmark.
I have not yet got used to knowingly buying pens for repair, but am looking forward to learning new skills and gaining confidence on the coming Pen Repair course. Even just enrolling for the course has improved my confidence! I have worked on four pens recently with my newly-acquired tools. I did not manage to buy many pens for repairs at the show, although a few dealers did have some. I may need to resort to eBay for more to practice on.
Word went around at the show that from next Autumn, the London Pen Show will be held over two days instead of one and this is a good sign for the future of the hobby and its wonderful community.
Last week, I enjoyed a week’s holiday in the heart of the Lincolnshire Wolds, a rural landscape in the east of England. We had rented a cottage which was formerly a blacksmith’s forge, in a tiny village.
We had been advised to visit the Hemswell Antiques Centre, said to be Europe’s largest antiques centre, occupying a former bomber airbase (of which there are many in Lincolnshire). Spread over four large buildings, each with many rooms of antiques of all descriptions, particularly furniture, there was a lot to explore.
A quick google search beforehand, had indicated a few vintage fountain pens for sale, including a Conway Stewart fountain pen and pencil set, which looked tempting. Once I had tracked it down, I found it to be a “Dinkie” 550 lever filler, barely four inches long, with a matching “Conway” No. 25 mechanical pencil. The Centre sells items from around 400 vendors and, unlike at a pen show, they are not on hand to answer questions. Whether rightly or wrongly, I made a hasty decision to buy the set. (This was only one search away from being an impulse buy).
Conway Stewart “Dinkie” 550 fountain pen and No 25 pencil.
After making payment, I was able to inspect the items at more length. I am ashamed to say that, in my excitement I had looked only at the body of the pen and the nib. I had not even thought to try operating the lever. When I did so, I found that it could only be raised to about 30 degrees from the barrel. Also, the barrel could not easily be removed to see what was going on inside. I had purchased a “project.”
A friend from our pen club kindly offered to replace the sac for me, having undertaken the WES (Writing Equipment Society’s) Pen Repair course and advised me not to try doing it myself. But, as she was about to go on holiday, I decided to have a go myself. I watched a video or two and read up on the procedure. Basically, you take off the barrel, take out the old sac, fit a new one and put the barrel back on. What could possibly go wrong?
First, removing the barrel was not as easy as on a Lamy Safari. I assumed (wrongly as it turned out) that the barrel was on screw threads but glued with shellac, requiring gentle heat to soften the adhesive. I borrowed my wife’s hair dryer, with a nozzle attachment to warm the barrel slowly, where I assumed the threads and the glue would be. I paused frequently to twist and pull the barrel off, conscious of the need to apply enough force to get it off but not so much as to crack the barrel.
Once the barrel started coming away it was evident that it was not threaded, but friction fit. With a bit more warming and pulling, the barrel was off! This felt like a major milestone.
Barrel removed!
The existing sac had become hard and brittle. I tipped out the contents of the barrel, forming a sorry pile of black dust and debris. I poked inside the barrel with a tooth-pick to get out any residue.
Definitely time for a new sac.
The good news, was that the lever mechanism then moved freely, through 90 degrees and I could see the pressure bar being lowered and raised again. This looked promising. I washed the nib and feed section and cleaned up the 14k gold nib with an old toothbrush.
Dinkie nib.
I was then able to measure the diameter of the sac peg, the lower step of the section, on which the sac fits. From information I found online, I would need a size 15 sac.
I ordered the latex sac and a small bag of pure French Chalk, to dust the sac after fitting to help it slide into the barrel and stop it from sticking. The sacs came in packets of two, 8cm long and to be cut to length as required. They arrived a couple of days later, from The Pendragons Partnership. They had a slight dusting of French Chalk already but it was good to add more.
I measured that I needed the sac to be about 5cm long and so cut off the excess. I then practiced pulling it over the sac peg. This was fiddly and awkward to do by hand. I believe you are supposed to use reverse needle-nose pliers to open the sac but in the absence of these, I simply held one side the sac against the peg with my thumb nail, whilst pulling at the other side of the sac to stretch it and pull it over the peg. Several times, it jumped off. Also, the opening of the sac became ragged such that I had to trim a bit more off.
Once I had practiced this, I applied some shellac to the sac peg. I managed to get the sac on the peg, but the leading edge had rolled inwards over itself. Being unable to unpick this, I decided to roll the whole sac a bit further up the pen and then slice off the excess, back to the start of the sac peg, using a craft knife. This worked and I hoped that there had still been sufficient shellac on the peg to secure the sac. A little more wriggling of the sac had been needed, to line it up straight. I then let it sit for almost 24 hours for the shellac to set fully.
The following day, I was ready to replace the barrel. This stage was also difficult! The sac (now a little shorter than I had intended) went into the barrel easily but the barrel was a very tight fit over the sac peg. I had not wanted to glue the barrel on but it was clear that this would not be necessary. With the aid of some French Chalk for lubrication, I eventually managed to push the tiny barrel all the way home, all the time afraid that it would break under the strain. Perhaps I should have filed down the sac a little, before replacing the barrel, although this would risk puncturing it.
Once reassembled, I could at last fill the pen. I chose Waterman Serenity Blue. I decanted some into an ink miser so that I could check that the pen was filling. To my relief, the pen drew up ink nicely. When I expelled the ink again a couple of times, I found that it amounted to only about 11 drops of ink. But to be fair, this is similar to the capacity of a Sailor converter.
It was exciting to have carried out my first sac replacement and to have got this vintage pen working again. It now writes smoothly and, luckily is not a gusher.
I suspect that I made many mistakes, both in the buying and restoring process although, perhaps with some beginner’s luck, it worked out all right in the end. However, I have since enrolled for the WES Pen Repair course starting in November and look forward to finding out how it should be done.
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.
Fountain pen blog 