Outback Workstation 3.2 - Vice & Lathe All in One

Hi all. This instructable is about my very first experiences and projets with my custom overpowered lathe. It's a project that started many years ago somewhere and somehow only got to its landing spot this summer.

This project is about the building of a sturdy workstation - a heavy widespread vice ànd a lathe all in one. Built as a tank, designed to operate independant from the rest of the workshop, even outdoor. It's about the journey of an amazing tool. About its early designs, its improvements over the years, the solving of its flaws and its tweeking to my needs.

Most of all, it's about a journey becoming way more important than the destiny.

Enjoy the ride.

Supplies

This project is built entirely from scratch. Heavy wood scratch, heavy metal scratch. It involves hauling, digging, bolting, cutting and welding, patience and time. It's a project accessible to all of us, no out of reach tools needed.

Why not make this a valuable project for starters?

It's a project I designed from start to finish and a project that seems to work pretty fine. I'm happy to share the ideas that went to it with you and I hope somehow it might be useful.

There's pride in building your own tools, so much things money just can buy.

Join me on this journey, to me it was definitely worth it.

Step 1: Version 1.0 - the Mediterrannean Episode

Let's talk about the very heart of this project first - that heavy wooden base you probably already noticed.

The design of this tool started out of necessity - as most of my projects.

Flahback in time. We were living in an appartment in the south of France and somehow I got into all kinds of woodworking projects. And steel projects. And duct tape projects. Too many projects not enough equipment.

I didn't have my own workshop - I used the one of my employer after work when I needed to. The backland of our village was postcardstuffed with vineyards, garrigue (shrubland), holm oak forests and olive orchards. Getting into boomerangs and kuksas was a logic step.

I've had the privilege to visit the northern countries before and somehow I'd become amazed by the Sami artwork. Puukkos and kuksas and canoes etc. At that time carving my own kuksa was far out of my ligue, but there in the south I just wanted to give it a try.

The best kuksas are made of wood burls - roundish features on the stems or branches, mainly induced by stress like fungi. These burls don't have regular growth rings which make them more resistant than the rest of the wood, and this perfect for small furniture like kuksas and knife handles.

Somehow I thought that if I was going to carve kuksas in our appartment I needed a sturdy vice to get these burls in place. I thought I needed something heavy, something that would concentrate its power in one single point, something I would easily walk around, something I was going to invent since no catalog or instructable or pinterester could give me what I needed.

That's the true story of this first design, called 'Matterhorn' due to its physical ressemblance. I found a cheap heavy beam at a ship supply, scavenged some scrap wood and started building.

Basically the concept was and still is pretty simple: a wide base for maximum stability and a straight forward adjustable jaw for maximum potential.

Of course I didn't wait to finish this project to carve my first kuksa. I discovered rapidly there was basically no need for a vice or whatsoever clamp thing at all. The Sami people don't use vices either.

Crooked knives and puukkos. And the skills to handle them.

Once Matterhorn finished I sadly never used used it while we were in the south.

'What is this for?' friends asked me.

'It's a vice to carve kuksas' I answered.

'But you have already carved a kuksa, right?' they replied.

'I did' I said while whatching the moon turn around the earth.

Step 2: Version 2.0 - the Lowland Episode

One year after version 1.0 we left our appartment in the south and bought this tiny farm in the north of the country.

'You're not gonna haul this heavy thing up north right?!' my wife asked.

Of course I was. Somehow I was very implicated with this project, and altho I didn't use it yet for what it was intended for, I knew this thing had potential. I know a good idea when I see one. I knew this thing was gonna be something big one day.

Stick to your goals while staying open for inspiration and new ideas. Take the time you need, give yourself the time to grow. Life lessons and attitude.

New place new projects. New times new perspectives. No more plans no more scetchbooks from now on. That's when the conceptual building started.

It was designed to clamp, but to be honest it was not so good in clamping. Instead of making this a full wooden tool - as first intented - I decided to change cape and to add some steel to the equation. I used what I had, some leftovers from the metal shop, some bolts some rods.

I managed to make this vice operational and funtional for the very first time and I started to discover its potential. This heavy base did effectively work and this vice had enough torque to squeeze a diamond.

Version 2.0 served me a few times during the building of my canoe, but to be honest most of the time it was just collecting dust in my workshop anyway.

But still, I knew this project wasn't far from finished. My only fear was that this vice was going to become another sleeping satellite. Patient potential, eternally waiting new input that would never come. A child waiting for the ice cream man who died in a terrible car crash.

Step 3: Version 3.0 - More Lowland Extensions

Years passed by and I switched to a bunch of new projects. Projects for whom I didn't need a heavy vice at all, of course.

This year tho things changed in the workshop. I changed a few configurations and I decided to put my Matterhorn into the spotlights again.

I needed to take the power back. Things had to change. If that vice didn't bite enough it just needed teeth. If its mouth wasn't wide enough it just needed a bigger jaw. If I didn't have something to store my tools while I was working it needed a bucket. Et cetera et cetera.

More ideas more steel more welds. It got teeth, a bigger jaw, fresh paint and even a stump to park my carvers.

Thàt, was what I called a functional vice.

This instructable is not about the plans or the measurements. Its about the ideas and the inspiration, that's the best I can share. I'm planning to build this thing again and it will surely be different from this one.

Don't loose yourself in the details, retain the concept and adapt to your own needs.

Step 4: The Lathe Diaries

Even tho I wàs pretty much satisfied about the outcome of version 3.0, I felt that somehow, somehow this tool could be much more than just a vice. This vice hàd to be more than a vice.

You know, I've practised a lot of trades during the years. I've experimented with pottery, built a forge, started gardening etc. I love discovering new things, one of the reasons I never stayed in a job more than a year btw. I need to change after a while, to experiment new things, to discover new experiences. It's in my genes.

Some paths are worth to explore deeper, some got abandoned quickly.

I'll never be a pottery maker.

Workshopwise there are a few things I never got the chance to do.

Wood turning is one of them. I've watched thousands vids about craftsmen turning wood - don't know why, it just seems very satisfying - but I never decided to buy my own lathe. But building one, that's another story.

'What if we converted this vice into a real workstation on itself'? was the question a few months ago.

'What if for some reason I found myself on a remote spot and only had one device?'

'What if we definitely started to make kuksas with it?' Not vicewise clamped into its jaws, but lathewise.

Getting the kuksas back into the equation sounded like a very appealing idea. It felt like closing the circle, like getting back to where it all started.

Of course I knew nothing about lathes. All I knew was that I needed a device that could hold my workpiece and something to keep it spinning.

I did have a look on the internet, briefly, and I switched off my computer.

I hate the beaten tracks. It's also in my genes.

So I started building new pieces from scratch. Again. There were some fails but there was progress, there were horse latitudes and there were thunderstorms, and three months later Vice version 3.0 became Outback Workstation 3.1

I built my first lathe, with a Motor A driving the Peppermill B with the workpiece stuck to it, operated by tools secured by the Anvil D attached to the Backbone C.

Step 5: Motor & Peppermill

I designed a device, called the 'peppermill' to hold the main shaft - a few rusty bearings and a piece of pipe - came up with a makeshift flywheel and went on a crusade for a motor.

Honestly, it took me several weeks turning the project opside down several times. A decent motor is the keystone in this project. Some people use spring operated setups - use your feet to get the thing spinning - but I wanted it fully electric. Torque and tours per minute. Chains or bands? Or gears? Getting a motor is not an easy task, but then I noticed my concrete mixer in my workshop.

A concrete mixer.

A. Concrete. Mixer.

Talking about torque, these things hàve torque!!

In no time I removed the motor, built a shelf on Matterhorn, found a decent wheel to mount on the main shaft and tweeked it long enough to make it work. Took me a while tho, but I finaly got it spinning high speed.

FAILS: Of course I attached the mixer directly to the shaft anyway and of course it failed. Not enough speed, no working this thing.

Step 6: Backbone & Anvil

Then came more challenges. Fixing your project to the main shaft is one thing, keeping it in place another - last thing you want is having a working piece starting to wobble like crazy and finally killing everybody who's around.

Small objects like a kuksa don't need extra support, but once you're going to turn longer stuff you need an extra shaft.

Or shafty.

More welding more rods and more hardware later system 3.1 was born. Off the record, if that backbone looks like it's coming straight from a Volvo it's because it is coming straight from a Volvo - I had it hanging around and since I don't have that car anymore I gave myself green light to take it into this project.

So there's the Backbone (D), sliding on two massive rods and there's the Anvil (C) - a piece of a miners railroad, fixed to the right rod. There's a small pin on the Backbone, aligned with the main shaft. By adjusting the Backbone this pin enters the working piece, preventing it to go airborne.

FAILS: Of course I tried to use the vice (E) for this, but the maths didn't work. Too much vibrations wrong angles etc.

Step 7: First Run

With everything in place and aligned, I gave Workstation 3.1 its very first run. Just a piece of birch firewood, just a sunday afternoon, just my finger on the green button.

Big wheel keep on turning. Whàt a moment. It's a very satisfying feeling to build your own machine and experiencing that very first run.

I modified a gauge, felt that it worked and carved that piece of birch into a million chips.

Solid dopamine, what a thrill.

Step 8: Getting Into Kuksas, at Least

One of the flaws of my design is the way the workpiece has to be maintained to the shaft. My design is pretty straight forward: a steel plate with a few holes in it, welded to the shaft.

Grab your workpiece, screw it to the plate and start playing.

Problem is, you don't want to screw things in you kuksa, right?

So here's the temporary solution: glue a piece of scrap wood to the back of your piece of ash, let it set for a few days and screw in to the lathe. Once the lathing done you remove that auxiliary piece and finish the kuksa.

That's the theory. Sounds goods sounds solid. Reality versus expectation striked again. Once I plugged in the late the workpiece started spinning like crazy - which was good news - but the whole workstation was wobbling like a camel downhill. Honeslty I expected some vibrations, but I wasn't expecting this. This was freaking dangerous.

First lesson learned: when the center of gravity is not aligned with the axis of the lathe, you're in trouble. The greater that distance, the more you will suffer. Of course I tried to get my gauge gauging, but after a minute or so I stopped the machine and removed this kuksa in the making.

Time for a deep breath. Too much love can kill you, too much vibration will definitely kill you.

Too much Hertz to work safely. I should have removed the four rubber wheels of the wokstation and maybe fxed it to the floor before starting, but even then I just didn't feel safe about this. Even tho it was only a small piece of wood, this thing wanted to kill me and it would probably hurt very bad before I would die.

This was a no go for me. The only way to get this project right is by carving the handle of the kuksa first, removing 80% of the material in that area and thus moving the center of gravity towards the axis of the lathe.

Bad news was that I had to put my kuksa ambitions temporarly on hold, good news was that I had make a big leap forward in understanding this machine. Building something is one thing, learning to work with it another.

Step 9: Starting Simple

I guess that kuks was maybe already next level for me, at least with this machine.

So I lowered my standards, returned to earth and decided to make something fun and easy, something in my league.

'Why not simply learning to carve some easy straight lines and some easy curves? What about carving a nice wooden mallet?'

That ash mallet became my very first project, and I honestly had a blast with it.

I used a block of ash firewood, squared it roughly with my axe and secured it in the lathe. I learned to go slowly and steady - the roughness of the block pushed the gauge downward and obviously the handle upward, which almost costed me a few ribs and exploded my gauge.

Second lesson learned.

I lowered the anvil to correct the angle of attack between wood and gauge, rpaired that last one - the longer the handle to easier it goes - and started spinning again.

From that moment the real fun began.

There's something really, really satisfying with this wood turning thing. It's a feeling compared to carving with a drawknife. Grab a piece of wood, grab a drawknife and if you don't have a shape in mind you will carve until there's no wood left.

Same with wood turning. It's addictive. It's a dopamine wonderland.

Look at that mallet, isn't that beautiful? Simple, easy, and one of the most joyful wood projects I ever did.

Step 10: Come Together

The day I got my first mallet our friends came over and I was thrilled to introduce them to my latest project. They knew I was preparing something but they didn't know what to expect.

Five minutes of 'this thing can kill you' and 'hold that gauge as it your life depends on it' later father and son were carving as if they never did something else.

Wood lathes bring people together, I learned. I was wondering who had most fun, these lads spreading chips around or me watching them.

They didn't care what they were making, they just wanted to carve.

Look at these faces, pure gold.

I let them play for half an hour straight - if something was going to break, fall apart or fly around I prefered them to end in hospital than me. Luckily for them, they had a blast and they're arsking for more, so we are planning to spend more time together and they will make their very own mallet. Other projects will emerge, improvements on the workstation will be made and we will create new memories.

Whereas the making of kuksas goes beyond the pure wood turning thing, keeping projects tubular makes the whole concept a lot easier and accessible for others.

Step 11: Getting Into It

First time I really needed this lathe was to make a new handle for a very old French socketed cooper's axe - Normandy pattern. These handles were traditionally turned on pole lathes and have a nice tapered end to fit tight in the socket of the axe.

I worked further on that piece of ash my friends had started and turned a very nice handle in no time, finished with bees wax.

And again, very much satisfied with the outcome. This machine exceeds my expectations.

Step 12: Room for Progress

As already said, Outback Workstation 3.1 has its flaws:

• safety has to be the center - the stop button is on the wrong side of the machine, an emergency foot operated button needs to be installed
• the anvil is too short and tends to swing forward when the gauge bites too much - replacing that anvil by a solid adjustable rail that goes all the way from one side to another is definitely the way to go
• the way the working piece has to be fixed to the shaft is rudimental, a set of claws/jaws might solve this
• the way the shaft is integrated in the peppermill is sensitive to vibrations - small enough to allow nice woodworking, too big to do metal working - I need better bearings and definitely a custom shaft
• the pin on the backboneside deserves some revisiting - without WD40 this side of the working piece starts smoking quickly - bearings are probably the way to go
• the two treaded rods guiding the backbone should be maintained by a pole/rod secured in the vice unit to reduce vibrations
• static electricty is building up during turning and I'm taking jolts every few minutes - this thing needs a conductive connection to mother earth

Despite these points of attention, I'm deeply satisfied with the way this journey has ended and even more with the possibilities it opens. This workstation will definitely become a center piece in the workshop and a way to connect with others.

I hope you enjoyed this journey as much as I did.

Thanx for watching, stay safe, and go make something.

Step 13: Version 3.2

This project started as a never ending test site and every time new ideas appeared they found their way into it.

From the beginning it was clear that the 'anvil' - I learned it's called a 'tool rest' but 'anvil' sounds way much cooler - was too short for the tubular projects I had in mind. It definitely makes sense when it comes to bowl carving, but for longer projects it just isn't practical. A longer anvil would definitely make sense and so a longer anvil it got.

I love these coal miners rails - we live in the ancient so called HBNPC (Houillières du Bassin du Nord - Pas de Calais - the North France Coal Mine Region) and these rails are part of the local history. Sturdy and awesome.

I also added a new custom feature disc thing to maintain my workpieces a bit more comfortable.

Add a brand new gauge to this equation and we have a new recipe for succes and eternal glory.

The new anvil works. That disc works. That new gauge works.

Version 3.2 it is.

Ready for new adventures.