Work done on the Rybka mandola

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Rather than risking finish damage from glue or adhesive, I attached the point using "ivoroid mud" (ivoroid material dissolved in acetone).

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After giving that plenty of time to cure and complete most of it's shrinking, I carved the point down to size and scraped it just to add original-looking scrape marks (it didn't need color scraped off).

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The color of the binding on this mandola has been a subject of conversation. I don't know why the binding color is so variable, but I concluded that it would be best to match the color of the other point rather than trying to match the binding.
Here is a concoction that I often use to age things, including bindings.

I masked off the surrounding area and airbrushed some "time in a bottle" onto the point. I ended up having to scrape it clean and try again several times, one reason being the poor performance of my airbrush for reasons that I never did figure out.

The color is very close to the other point. A little spirit varnish was sprayed over the color to seal and protect it.

[William Smith]

Its GREAT to see this work on a fabulous mandola. Thanks for showing.

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The frets were very low. I measured in various places on the 'board, and the frets were in the .020" height range. My experience tells me that frets that low are difficult to crown, and if they need to be leveled, there just isn't enough fret material left to work with and end up with good frets and easy playing.

We (the owner and I) chose to re-fret. Fret wire that matches the tiny frets that Gibson used is close to impossible to find, but over the years I have stashed fret wire. I've bought derelict fingerboards, tenor banjo necks, and saved removed frets. The owner said he would like to spend the extra money to use matching old frets, so I got these out to see what might work.

I found that most of the frets were too short. They would be OK for a mandolin, but the mandola neck is wider so the frets need to be longer. On a high shelf above one of my benches I have some small containers of extra frets, left-overs and odd removed frets. I didn't remember exactly what was up there so I looked through them.

I found these! These are an exact match to the original frets in the mandola, and by picking through them for frets long and high enough to re-use I was able to put together a good set of frets.

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I have one of these calipers with the notch ground in one jaw.

The idea is that a fret tang will fit into the notch so we can measure the height of the bead of the fret. These old frets are so small that the whole fret goes into the notch, so it won't work for measuring the crown height of these old frets.

I gripped the fret tang in the jaws of a pair of flush-ground end nippers (the ones I use for pulling frets) and was able to measure the height of the frets and choose the ones with minimal wear.

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These old frets don't have barbs on the tang like recent fret wire. Instead, the bottom edge of the tang was nicked with some sort of sharp tool to make little burrs along the edges. The burrs serve the purpose of barbs to help hold the frets into their slots. One problem with this type of fret wire is that it tends to chip the fingerboard when the frets are pulled out. When we start to pull a fret, the face of the flush-ground end nippers is tight against the fingerboard so the tool helps to hold the wood down while the fret is pulled up. Gripping the tool wedges the jaws under the fret while forcing the face down against the 'board. That doesn't usually pull the fret completely, however, and the fret has to be lifted from the slot to get it out completely. With modern frets, the first grab with the tool does usually lift the barbs mostly free of the slot because the barbs are about in the middle of the tang and the fret can be pulled the rest of the way out without undue damage to the 'board. These old nicked frets have burrs at the bottom edge of the tang so they will chip the board of done the same way.
I had some scraps of sheet brass ans I quickly made these two strips of metal to lay to each side of the fret. The procedure is to pull the fret as far as it will pull by gripping with the end nipper, then lay the metal strips aside the fret and repeat the process. There is still some chipping, but it helps some.

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Before I did that, however, it is worth noting that heating the frets can help minimize chipping of the fingerboard. I use this tool for heating frets. Just two copper wires fit into a standard soldering gun. It runs a current through the fret and the resistance heats the fret.

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As soon as all the frets were pulled (I left the short frets at the upper end of the 'board. no need to replace those) I used a modern adhesive in one of the few places that I consider that acceptable on a historic instrument such as this. Some thin superglue along each side of the fret slots to hold any chips in place and strengthen the edges of the slots.

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I was able to avoid the decision of whether or not to preserve the little binding tabs over the ends of Gibson frets because there are not there! I'm not sure why they are gone, there is no evidence that the 'board has been refretted before, but the absence of the tabs makes my job easier so I'm thankful. I could have removed a little from the ends of the tangs and extended the frets over the bindings in the current fashion, but I decided to fit the frets inside of the binding in the original manner for a more authentic look. The fingerboard bindings are thin anyway, so there is enough fret area for the player, and not much difference either way either way.
As I sanded to clean up the fingerboard surface I used little bits of black CA for filler anywhere the chips needed some work.

The tool in the second picture is a checkering tool that I use to chamfer the edges of fret slots to make it easier to start frets into the slot and to help prevent chipping when frets are removed later.

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All of my reclaimed frets that I chose for this 'board are over .030" high and I wanted to keep as much of that height as I could. The fret beads are so small, the slots are slightly chipped and chamfered, and the frets vary slightly in height. It would be easy to over-drive the frets and end up with a lot of variance in height and too much milling to get them level. To avoid that, I decided to borrow a technique from working with bar frets. I cut a couple of pieces from this shim stock.

It was the thickest stock I had on hand, but I wanted a little more thickness so I taped one side and that got me to this thickness.

With one piece of shim stock laid to each side of the fret, it can be driven until the hammer hits the shims and the frets will all be very close in height.

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Another bit of modern adhesive. A little bit of Titebond in each fret slot.

[Timbofood]

There is no more fun thing for me to watch as the careful work which is exercised to maintain these wonderful pieces of musical history! I just attended a funeral for a “Loar Era” woman, December 5, 1923.
She could sing too!

[carleshicks]

John, thank you for sharing this. I am enjoying it thoroughly.

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Here's the rather untidy-looking fingerboard with the "vintage" frets installed.

It is ready to glue back to the neck and the rest of the fret work will be done after that.

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The neck seemed to have a bit of an S-curve when I got the mandola. Because the fingerboard glue joint was loose, it was hard to tell if that was a problem or not. I laid a straight edge on the neck and found this bit of forward bow.

I was able to straighten that almost completely with the truss rod.

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I grabbed a couple of straight strips of wood to use as winding sticks to check the neck for twist, and sure enough, I found a twist in the neck.

What followed was some milling with a flat sanding block, concentrating at opposite sides of the neck at each end to remove the twist, while constantly checking the straightness and adjusting the truss rod accordingly.

Eventually I got to here, with the neck straight and the twist milled away.

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I was able to straighten the neck while removing minimal wood. A little of the original gluing surface is still visible to opposite sides at each end of the neck.

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I milled a little bit of drop-off into the fingerboard extender by using a masking tape shim to elevate the back end of my sanding block and using a 1/4" sheet of sandpaper.

I cleaned up to look like this. I'm not sure how the low part in the center at the cross piece get there, but it is not a problem. As on the neck itself, there is a bit of the original glue surface still visible so I am assured that I've removed the least wood that I could and get the geometry correct.

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I cleaned up the underside of the fingerboard for gluing, but I left the glue and finish that was around the fingerboard extender so that I could use it to help align the fingerboard while gluing and clamping. Between that and taping the nut in place, I had some physical restraints to help me with alignment while gluing the board. Otherwise, I just felt the edge of the board and nudged it side to side until the hot hide glue began to hold it in place and the clamps could be applied without displacing it. I had warmed the parts beforehand so I had plenty of time for alignment.

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Since I removed so little wood from the fingerboard surface of the neck I did not have to touch up any color on the riser block or the extender to the sides of the fingerboard. That made me smile.
When the glue had cured and some time had passed for the moisture if the glue to dissipate, I milled the frets level. I was able to use one of my diamond sharpening "stones" for this because the frets were so close to level to start with. I did not have to file away a lot of fret material.

With the frets level, I measured the height and was pleased to find that they were all over .030" high.

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After re-crowning the frets and doing a little work to the ends, the fingerboard looked like this.


From here it is touch-up, final clean-up and set up.

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The bits of binding I used to fill in the re-glued bindings needed some touch up of color and finish. I cold have made it easier by removing some finish and color from the surrounding binding so that I could have blended the color into the bindings over a larger area, but I wanted to leave as much original finish as possible. That might be going overboard toward preserving originality, but it's what I decided. It turned out to be difficult and time consuming to do the microscopic touch up on the tiny places, and the results are visible. I wasn't able to make them disappear.

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I gave the whole instrument a good cleaning and it came out surprisingly glossy with the grunge of age, handling, and storage removed.

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With the needed repairs to age-related problems done, the mandola was ready to set up for playing.
The bridge is undoubtedly original. I improved the fit of the base to the instrument top. Here is the bottom of the bridge with the serial number still penciled in the center.

The top of the bridge looked like this.

In order to have nice low action, the bridge needs to be set very low. With the little cut-outs at the ends of the top, the posts protruded above the bridge. that is not a very good situation, especially for players who contact the bridge with their hand while playing. Add to that the chip, and we (the owner and I) decided to replace the top of the bridge and keep the original with the instrument.
Steve Smith (at Cumberland Acoustic) made me a bridge top to my requested measurements, and with a few strokes of a round jeweler's file I was able to get it to easily slip right onto the posts of the original base.
I transferred the string positions like this...

...and notched it for strings.