Several weeks ago I purchased some pure Tung oil, and was disappointed to learn it wasn’t going to do what I had expected.  The nagging voice in the back of my head kept telling me, “Go ahead, try it.  All the cool kids use Tung oil in their woodworking.”  This logic was hard to argue with.  Having read countless blogs, forum posts, and even the comments on this blog, it did appear that everyone loves Tung.

Learning finishing, like woodworking, is not a simple task.  I decided that there were two good reasons to give the Tung oil a try.  The first, and most obvious reason was that I already had some.  The second was that since I had a dozen boxes, it seemed only appropriate to try it on one of them.  That was part of the point of building twelve boxes in the first place, to give me the opportunity to try out different building methods and to experiment with finishes.

I realize that I said I wasn’t going to finish the boxes.  I believe I had decided to just sand them to 1500 grit.  This would make them shiny and not risk screwing any of them up.  Last night I changed my mind.  I asked for volunteers.  Many of the boxes are still awaiting their lids, and as everyone knows, they don’t start to talk until they have the tops.  But there were 5 of them hanging out at my desk, one with a beautiful padauk lid, a couple made from oak and walnut, one from hard maple with a wenge lid, and brash young hard maple and walnut box.

The hard maple box immediately spoke up, “I will volunteer for the mission.”  He said with a bravado which made the padauk lidded box snicker.  The other boxes quickly encouraged me to pick the hard maple box.  I quickly realized two things.  One was that the box who volunteered would be named Major.  In fact, he would be named Major and given the rank of Major, in the tiny box army.  Though his personality is nothing like Major Major Major Major from Joseph Heller’s ‘Catch-22′, I felt a fondness for him, just as I do for that book.

The other boxes were thrilled to have not been chosen.  I realized another thing shortly after naming the tiny box, that it would make me much sadder if I screwed him up.  So a test was in order.  I had a nice 3 inch square piece of oak, which I had saved for just such an emergency.

I read the instructions, which were quite simple.  Opened the doors and windows in the house, to get good ventilation.  Cut up an old Detroit Red Wings t-shirt, which was past its prime.  Reread the instructions one more time, then diluted a small amount of Tung oil in a 4:1 ratio.

I wiped the Tung oil onto the test piece, a thin and even coat, and the tiny piece of oak looked pretty good.  I waited the 15 minutes suggested on the can, and then wiped it down.  I have to admit that my first thoughts were exactly what everyone says, “It really makes the wood grain pop.”  It did too!

Major was standing at attention and ready to go into finishing battle.  I started with the lid, which I had sanded down to 32o grit.  His lid had been sanded to 1500, but the instructions said to sand to 360, and since 320 was the closest I had, I went with that.  Wiping the Tung oil across the walnut lid made the wood look rich and inviting.  The box was next and the oil really made the splines look nice.  Major said, when I was done, “I think the Tung oil quite suits me.”  All the other boxes admired his new look too, even the one with the bubinga lid.

I have been playing around with tiny boxes for a couple of months now.  Major is the first one I have completed.  I set him on the book shelf, not far from Joseph Heller’s work.  He looks good there.  Though there are many more to complete, I feel a certain level of satisfaction at finishing this first one.  But I can’t bask in the glory for too long, as I now have a small pack of tiny boxes who all want Tung oil.  They are getting noisy.