The balance pins were easy enough. We needed a small piece of wood to make a jig. A piece of Robert Shields's handcrafted (and signed) furniture came to the rescue. A small block of wood fell off the bottom of this cabinet and we realized it was the perfect size for our needs. Isn't it a great cabinet?
The little block of wood measured 5/8" which was the exact size I needed. We drilled a hole through it with a #30 bit which allowed the balance pins to slip through easily.
So this musician turned work worker learned that "jig" is more than a dance form.
Next, we tackled the hitchpins. This was far trickier because they're lined up very closely together. I had already drilled the holes, so it was just a matter of tapping these little darlings into place. They needed to be tapped to a uniform height, so we marked the needle-nose pliers with masking tape to show us where 5 millimeters' distance would be. Since these pins are very close to the wall of the case, we felt very clumsy and all thumbs, but we got it done with the help of the nail set used upside down. We felt we had better control using it that way. I held the nail set, and my husband did the rest.
Because the needle nose pliers are tapered, we just measured the point at which the height of the pliers was 5 mm and marked it with tape. When the hitchpin was level with the top of the pliers, we knew we were at the proper depth. It was a jig of another sort, I suppose. Here's a shot of us working on the pins on the backrail.
My third hand was gone when I laid the black backrail felt. Again, it seemed like I had ten thumbs, but by wedging the needle nose pliers against the balance pins while the nose of the tool held the little 1/2" nails in place, I managed to get five or six nails tapped into the cloth using the wrong end of the nail set once again. The little red felt punchings went on the balance pins, and this day's work on the clavichord was done.
