The mystery Baby.

 

You know... I like typewriters, and I like to think I know a fair bit about them. But every so often I come across a machine that reminds me that, simply put, I don't know jack. 

The mystery Baby in all its glory. Click to enlarge and have a good look at the keyboard.

I'm not in the business of collecting typewriters for the sake of unusual or unique variations of machines. I like typewriters for their beauty and their artistry. I like them for their functionality and form. I appreciate them for the history they bring with them, and I love them for the feeling I get when I write with one. 

I didn't need another Hermes baby, but I saw this guy on eBay and I threw my hat in the ring simply because I noticed a couple of odd characters on the keyboard. Auction day came and no one else bid, and so it became mine for a wallet hurting $15. Not only was it cheap, but it was about a 5 minute drive from where I work to collect it.

 

As you can see by the screen grab above, the seller only photographed half the keyboard. The other photos were blurry, and the description simply read:

Antique Portable Typewriter and carry case.

Hermes Baby - typewriter. 

I think this might have been used in a hospital in the 50's - there is in pen " Room 3" on the lid of the typewriter.

So I arrived at the seller's address at the appointed time, only to find that the seller was selling on behalf of the very much still alive owner of the machine - a quite senior and very lovely lady who was a former nurse. It appeared that her son was selling off a fair few of her possessions, or 'house clutter', and it was mostly piled up in the garage of the house - awaiting collection. 

I had a brief discussion with the lady, but her son was getting quite impatient. He demonstrated his expert experience of typewriters by banging the keys and showing the carriage shifted - before telling me "Everything works on this typewriter as a typewriter should".

But I wanted to know more about the machine. Once I was able to get a full look at keyboard, I noticed that it was significantly different to any of the other typewriter keyboards I had seen before. On the right hand side of the typewriter there was a whole host of characters I found that were unusual. 

"I bought it new when I was doing a business course before I became a nurse in the 60's" The lady explained "Its German made you know, and that's a German keyboard. It was made by Hermes - a very good company". She actually pronounced Hermes correctly too. The son argued a couple of points - insisting that it was the 50's. But she just looked confused about what he was saying, and tried to correct him that she bought it early to mid 60's. Also, it turned out that typewriter had never been near a hospital. I suspected the son was just obfuscating things to cover for the rather factually incorrect advertisement. Not that I cared about the advertisement, as I had long learned to disregard most of what a seller says on an eBay posting.

It most certainly wasn't a German keyboard, and I suggested this to the owner. I then muttered something about it being Swiss made, but she just nodded and said "That's a German keyboard".

The son shuffled about to display his impatience and suggest that the trade - and our business, was done. I was hoping to have a bit more of a chat, but it was obvious that this wasn't going to happen. So I just picked up my now paid for typewriter, said a gracious thank-you, and left. 

I got the Baby home and then started to inspect the machine. Lo and behold, the (now former) owner was right. It WAS made in Germany. 

I was a little stumped by this, but that was far from the last surprise for the afternoon. I had never heard of these machines being made in Germany before.

The typewriter wasn't made of plastic, but rather metal. This is the third Hermes Baby of this era I have come across, and the first that didn't appear to have been belted to a near pulp. This machine had been well used, but also quite looked after. I've found the metal on this version of the Hermes Baby to be the closest thing that you can find to play-doh, that is still a metal.

I also  bet about half the readers that read this blog just silently nodded their head in agreement.

So - I cracked open the case to have a look at the serial number, and found 9006303, which oddly didn't tie into a number range that was covered on Ted's excellent Serial number Database.

Okay... I thought. Let's just try typing with this machine.

And this is where it got weird. Not only did it have a better type feel than any other baby that I have ever owned or seen, but some other things seemed especially odd.

As you can see in the photo at the top of the page, the numbers are shift access only. But it isn't just the numbers. It's the full stop, and some other important characters as well. Then there was the ∘ character, which I just couldn't line up with any keyboard, character map or language alphabet at all.

I looked for currency symbols, only to find none. I was stumped.

I almost made a phone call to my friend Ray, who is a Linguist, when I stopped myself and just thought - "Rob Messenger will know, surely"!

 Just catching a few rays on the deck; trying to tan up that European paleness. 

Rob Messenger - Oztypewriter
It's a safe bet to ask Rob. He's got a vast head for a broad spectrum of details, and has been collecting for a lot longer than a lot of people i know. So I made Rob my first port of call. I'd been exchanging emails with Rob that afternoon over other matters, so I just dropped a mention of this machine into another email.

Amazingly, Rob got back to me within minutes. He wasn't absolutely certain, but he suggested that the machine had a "Brazilian 2" keyboard.

Coming from Rob, this was a suggestion that I was quite inclined to agree with. He'd gone through some reference material at a speed that would have to have been nothing but phenomenal, and had come up with what i knew would be an educated suggestion.

Rob also suggested that I have a chat with Georg Sommeregger, as he was much more extensively versed in the ways of the Hermes machines, and would know more about how a Hermes Baby come to be made in Germany - and possibly more on the keyboard.

Georg Sommeregger - Sommeregger's Sommelsuirum and Hermes Baby
Rob was right. As it was, Georg has a very strong knowledge on the German made Hermes baby. Georg told me a little about where the machine was made, and where it sat in relationship to the then existing Hermes factory (not very far at all, incidentally). And that he also lived in the same area.

It was quite fascinating. Georg also suggested that the machine was made in the earlier phase of Pailards manufacturing of the Baby in Germany, which would put the machine's manufacture around 1965. This was great news, as it matched up with the time-frame which the previous owner claimed to have bought the typewriter new.

So in my mind, the mysteries of the date and location of manufacture were solved.

Georg also made a suggestion about the keyboard. He sent me a scan of a character map for a Gossen Tippa - that showed the 'Italiano' layout of their keyboards. The layout was almost identical to the layout of my Hermes - except for two crucial differences. Firstly it didn't have an ∘ on the keyboard, but had a ∘ instead. Also, the Italiano keyboard layout was QZERTY, and not QWERTY.

The rest of the keyboard, including the shifted full-stop (period) matched perfectly.

I thanked Georg as he'd been a great help, and then messaged Rob with the findings - confident that Georg's suggestion of it being 'possibly a variation of the Italiano keyboard' was right. Rob however was a little more skeptical.

Natalie Tan - NatsLapTaps

Meanwhile, I had been spit-balling a few ideas with a few people on facebook. Nat made an interesting suggestion about the ∘ key, and suggested that it was used to write N∘ - as it was a common abbreviation of 'Number'. My Cyrillic Hermes has a N∘ key for this specific purpose, so I was a little cynical of this idea. Nat also then suggested that the machine perhaps had been set up to write lots of numbers, and names in capital letters - hence why those important functions, including writing N∘, were all achievable with the keyboard caps locked. 

Emigrant keyboards.

While talking to Georg, I wrote that I felt that the Italiano keyboard made a lot of sense - particularly as Australia had taken in a lot of post war refugees, and economic refugees. One of the largest groups represented in this mass migration to Australia - were the Italians. The Greeks followed soon after, and subsequently made Melbourne famous for having the largest Greek population outside of Greece.

 A lot of these migrant groups formed communities in Australia, and it wasn't unusual to find their languages and customs being continued in various areas.

Anyone my age or older, can remember exactly what Lygon street in Melbourne used to be like - before it became a tourist attraction. And then there's Franco Cozzo - who crammed Italian, Greek and English into his television commercials in the 80's. Not to mention crammed his show-rooms full of truly ugly furniture (and somehow drugs, but that's another story).

 Oh, the Nostalgia!

Foot-as-cray! (sorry, local in-joke. Teeritz and John are likely to get it).

I could almost see the raised eyebrow in Georg's reply email. This time around, he sent me a couple of examples of a 'Lithuanian emigration' keyboard. The emigration keyboard layout he showed me went from the traditional AŠERTZ keyboard, to a QWERTZ layout (migrating to Germany perhaps?), while still retaining much of the character map and layout outside of the figurative characters. 

The suggestion was that perhaps this machine of mine had been designed specifically for Italians that were migrating to Australia. However, there wasn't any concrete evidence to suggest that this machine could be such a machine.

No one seems to be certain about the nature of this keyboard and who it may have been made for. What also remains a mystery, is how this machine came to be owned by an Anglo-Australian nurse - who bought it new from the show-room. Natalie made a suggestion that a shop might have sold it at a discounted rate to her, which may have encouraged her to buy such a machine. But unfortunately I'm not in a position to easily check out this idea.

So there we have it! The mystery Baby. A machine that seems to have a blurred history that hints at an interesting story of humanity at almost every turn. Stories that seem sort of painfully just outside of my reach.

I like this little machine. If I'm going to use it, I know I'm going to struggle a bit with the shifted full-stop. And its story very much intrigues me. If you have any suggestions or ideas about this machine, please leave a comment below.

I also really appreciate the help I got from Rob, Georg and Natalie. Thanks guys!

I can't believe I seriously mentioned Franco Cozzo in a semi-serious way on my blog. Also, if this is indeed an Italiano keyboard, does this mean that the typewriter should be really called a "Hermes Bambino"?

Politics and fixing the Bijou

Some names below have been changed to protect the person's identity. 

Correction: *made in a way.

Last night I sat down and decided to try out a few ideas I had to fix a couple of the problems with the Bijou that Robert gave me. I fell in love with the type action of this machine the moment that I laid my hands on the keyboard, and I really wanted to get this typewriter fully working.

It turned out to be easier than I thought. And just as well, as while I was trying to work on the Bijou yesterday, a bit of an online drama was unrolling around me.

It all started yesterday afternoon. I arrived home from work and flicked my computer on to check my email and have a bit of a look at what light-hearted waffle had been posted on Facebook throughout the day. I run a program on my computer called 'Social fixer' and I was immediately confronted by a long list of Facebook 'Friends' who had had their profiles shut down. I also noticed that all of these friends were people that I known from a political activism group I had helped out some time back.

Something was wrong. I popped into a couple of private Facebook groups and left some messages to see if anyone knew what happened to these people's Facebook profiles. Usually those groups are  full of lively discussion, but today they were eerily quiet. I was to learn later that not everyone's profiles had been shut down, but most of the people that I had tried to contact had had their profiles banned from being able to post in public areas, and on other people's 'walls'.

Eventually I would figure out had happened, and how it had happened. But right now I wasn't involved in the group of people it had happened to, so my profile had remained unaffected.

My friend Mitch's profile had been shut down. Mitch was currently living in Vietnam, and had now been there for over 2 years. As such,  Facebook remained his primary means of keeping in contact with the rest of the world and his social circle.


I stopped short of calling people to get the gritty what had happened, as I realised that this was something that I didn't want or need to get involved in. But I did have some real concerns about those that were.

*   *   *

This Bijou 5 is a wholly remarkable machine. Beautiful to look at and amazing to type on, this machine also has historical charm. It has keys that were devoted to marking out a Palestinian currency that hasn't been in use for over 50 years. 

But like all machines of the age of this Bijou, you can't avoid there being some problems. This Bijou had a couple, but nothing that wasn't insurmountable. Instead, I took the opportunity to try out some ideas that I'd had for a while, and had been looking for a candidate to try them on. 

The biggest problem with the Bijou was the platen and the rollers. The platen itself wasn't cracked - but it was rather hard and plasticised. The rollers however were still rubbery, but were suffering from probably the worst example of a flat-spot that I have ever seen. 

The platen was easy to deal with. I now had an opportunity to try out how well brake fluid works on the rubber of these platens, and much to my surprise, it actually worked quite well. I painted it onto the platen and left it for about an hour. after I washed it off the surface felt rubbery again, even if I really couldn't tell by pushing on it if it was any less hard. I scuffed the surface with a bit of rough sandpaper, and the platen looked and felt ready for business. That grey rubber tone had returned to the platen again. 

But there still was the problem with the rollers. I had put the platen back in, but the rollers still locked onto the paper every few lines, and refused to budge. Naturally, this was far from ideal. 

Realistically, the Platen and the rollers would be better of being recovered. But there was nothing wrong with trying a couple of things on them first. As the brake fluid had been so successful, thought I would try another experiment on the rollers. 

I'd been reading up on how to re-shape rubber after their shapes had been formed. A lot of people had been using heat on rubber parts to manipulate them into place. So I thought about it for a bit, and came up with an idea that I could try out on these rubber rollers. 

The technique was simple. A lot of people had been dropping their rubber pieces into a pot of boiling water. But I didn't feel that I needed to so much cook the rollers, as much as I needed to heat them. So I boiled the kettle, and dropped the rollers individually into a container that I then filled with boiling water. Doing it this way, the temperature was probably going to be 10-20 degrees lower - helping  retain the consistency of the rubber while I put it under stress. 

Getting the roller ready

From there rest of this was pretty straight forward. After letting the roller heat up for a bit, I used tongs to grab it out of of the water and place it onto a clean, flat and smooth surface. I then simply rolled each piece of rubber one at a time under a metal ruler - in order to try and push the roller back into a rounded shape. Much like how you make long and round pieces with clay. 

I wouldn't say it was a complete success. The flat spots didn't completely disappear, but they certainly rounded out a bit. Another interesting effect was that a very thin layer of rubber on the surface wore off. It was microns thick, and didn't really change the width of the rollers, but the rubber underneath was less plasticised than this thin surface layer. I cooled the rollers under cold water and sanded them down to get rid of the last of that surface layer. 

I'm in two minds about this surface layer. I'm not sure if I have opened up a seal that was originally on the roller, or I have simply removed a heavily oxidised and hardened top layer. 

*   *   *

I was re-assembling the Bijou when I heard the message tone on my phone. I didn't recognise the number, but it turned out to be Mitch. I hadn't spoken to Mitch outside of emails for pretty much the entire time he'd been in Vietnam, and it was a surprise to find he wanted to catch up on Skype ASAP. 

It was 10:15pm by this stage, but I still had about 20 minutes of of work left on the Bijou to go, so I agreed. Seconds later my iPad was buzzing with a voice call. I answered and listened to him on the speaker, while I continued to re-assemble the Bijou. 

"Heeeeeeeeeeeeey"! Mitch called out as I answered. He was clearly happy to be talking to me. 

"What's going on with your facebook profile" I asked.... 

Mitch is an eccentric but very intelligent man. He's a teacher who is very compassionate. Last we spoke a few years ago, he had learned and was fluent in 6 languages - and was hoping to make it to 8 quite soon. He's also very passionate about civil liberties and the rights of gays. 

He is also more camp than a row of tents, and so loaded with hormones that it is impossible to have a simple conversation with him, before it turns into a festival of innuendo. 

Indeed, I don't think there's a single subject matter in existence that Mitch couldn't turn into some kind of sexual euphemism. And a such, a conversation with him is always very entertaining. Within minutes of answering his call, I was almost in tears I was laughing so hard. My laughter was often met with Mitch loudly squealing 'Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat'! before he qualified it with 'I can't help it'! 

I started to find it hard to work on the Bijou. I was trying to wrangle the platen back into place, and had made 4 attempts at it before I pleaded with Mitch; "Stop it! Stop it! I can't concentrate on what I'm doing". 

"What are you doing" he enquired. 

"I'm trying to get the Platen back in". 

There was silence for a moment, before Mitch snappily asked "What's a platen". 

I thought about my answer for a moment and considered about how I would describe it to Mitch. 

The platen in my hand was a long and round object that was hard and coated in rubber. 

.......

"It's a thing" I replied in answer to his question. 

"A THING"? 

"Yep, a THING". 

"Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight" Mitch replied with scepticism. On the other hand, I felt I had dodged the bullet of the week. 

I managed to get the platen back into place, and everything bolted back down. Mitch and I talked for a little while longer, and I eventually discerned what had happened to everyone's Facebook profiles. Mitch had managed to get his account reinstated, but had been handed the same posting ban that I now suspected had been handed out to a fairly sizeable group of people. 

I won't detail here the how, why and wherefores of what had actually happened, as I had started this blog to largely get away from such activities. I gave Mitch a few contact numbers of people that could help him, and sent him on his way. He's a lovely guy, and a great friend, and I have a lot of time for him. But on this occasion there was a whole group of men and women I knew who had suddenly found themselves a little more restricted in their online social and political options, and honestly... I didn't want to get involved. 

Everything was quiet now, and despite all the laughter I had managed to get the Bijou back together again with little of a hitch. 

I can report that my wrangling with the rubber on the rollers had been successful. It wasn't perfect, but the Bijou now stopped locking the paper down and fed each sheet of paper through about as straight as anyone could want. I may not have been able to save the world, but I saved a Bijou. And to me that counts for a lot.

Shame though, if I had have been able to save the world, I might have been able to pick up some gorgeous Hollywood blond woman and live happily every after. That stuff happens, right? I've seen it in movies.

P.s. Incidentally, this is my 50th post. Thanks for being a great bunch of readers and typers! You're awesome. 

The Bijou, the Royal and the Messenger....

It's no secret that I met one of my Typosphere heroes earlier this week. And although I travelled down to Canberra with the specific intention of visiting Robert's exhibition, I feel I should blog about the man that was at the core of the exhibition first.

I've met many passionate men in my life, and they have always inspired me. Robert is certainly one such man. Through groups on the internet, I have met with over 300 people. I've met many interesting and unique characters over the years, and while many of them are forgettable, Rob certainly isn't.

But as always, let me tell you a tale.

I settled down to the 'Blicked' IBM selectric at Robert's exhibition when it dawned on me - that I could give this visit a little bit of online life. Why not use this unique machine to write a typecast? Why not make this typecast instant - like a live typecasting on Facebook. I started to tap at the keys and surprised myself by how quickly I could manage to find my way around this modified keyboard. Within a minute I was lifting my eyes from the keyboard and touch typing on a truly foreign setup.

I had arrived at the exhibition not having been able to reach Robert via facebook or his blog to organise to meet up, but I wasn't too despondent about this, and I had accepted by this stage that I may not get to meet him on this occasion - so I decided that while I was at the keyboard I would tap out a letter to Rob, and hope he would be surprised to find it sitting on the table if he swung by.

A moment after I had wrote it, I pasted it up on Facebook, and tagged Robert in one of the photos.

I shifted seats to another machine, an Olivetti 32, and decided to write to the typosphere. In moments I had a posting ready to go - and subsequently uploaded it live onto Facebook. I returned to the IBM and settled into mastering its keyboard.

Note the keyboard. Yes... Notice it? 

There was a creek of a door opening behind me. I spun around to find an attractive, well dressed lady slipping through it with an anxious smile. She looked me in the eye as I peeked at her over my shoulder, and after a moment passed, asked me "Are you, um. Scott Kernaghan"?

This was rather unexpected. I knew right away what had happened - Rob had seen my posting on the Antique Typewriter group, and called her up. "Yes" I answered.
"Rob saw your post on Facebook and has asked if you could hang about for a bit. He'd really like to meet you".

I could barely get any words out. "R...Really" I stammered, rather surprised but excited about this turn of events.
"Yes! And he says he has something for you".

The lady scrolled through her iPhone's contacts looking for Rob's number, but had to return upstairs to call Rob back - as she didn't have his number in her phone. Before long, Rob was strutting through the doors of the exhibit, with a case in his hand. There were other people in the room, and I think Rob thought that the gentleman that was now at the IBM's keyboard was me. It wasn't and he seemed very surprised when I called across the room with an excited smile 'Robert'!

Rob and I talked, and before long he had me tapping away on the Bijou that he'd brought me. I was so excited... the machine was amazing, and I was so grateful that he'd given this to me. A few photos were taken, and Robert made a comment about my typing that actually took me by surprise. "Well, you can touch type"! It turns out Robert doesn't, which had me momentarily stunned. Stunned because he was a collector of typewriters, not because he was a Journalist. Almost all of the Journalists I have ever met have been two-finger typists - I think it comes with the territory.

I told Robert that I've been using Typewriters since I was 5. I had seen a fleet of them coming through our house as my Grandfather used to be a call-out typewriter mechanic for Adler - which repaired every brand of typer.

*   *   *

Rob and I took off to a near-by cafe to have lunch. We talked typewriters, phones, family, journalism and.... well... I checked out the Canberra fashion. It wasn't bad. Rob was charming and knowledgable. I loved sharing my limited stories with him, and learned a lot from Rob as he talked about some of the other people he's met along the way with his typewriters. 

Rob suggested that I could come over to his place and have a look at some of his collection. I eagerly jumped at the chance, as I had been hoping to have an opportunity to have a look at some of the other machines that Rob had featured online. Robert had been transferring his collection from his paid storage sheds to his home, and he explained that he felt a little awkward about letting me have a look while the collection was in such disarray. He shouldn't have worried. I loved it. 

We returned to Robert's car - a Mitsubishi wagon that was filled with machines he was transferring, along with machines he'd used to demonstrate typewriters at a primary school earlier that day. Robert re-arranged some machines to give me some space to sit, and while doing so grabbed a 2012 Scattori (not sure if that is the correct spelling) and placed it on the roof of his car for me to try. 

I had expected the Royal to be rubbish - but I was surprised by how nicely it typed. I tapped out a couple of lines, and found it a very competent machine - with the exception of the cheap plastic keys that I doubt will go the distance. For a typewriter less than a year old though, I was pretty surprised.

Again Robert was surprised to see me touch typing - this time on a machine on the roof of his car, with the keyboard sitting at about chin height. I wasn't showing off.... I swear! 

*   *   *

Robert's 1000+ strong collection left me speechless. If there was ever and Aladdin's cave of the typosphere, this was it. One of the machines I wanted so desperately to see - was Robert's red Royal QDL. I had never seen one in person, and was really hoping to lay my eyes on it. But soon I didn't care. I eventually did see it, but I only looked at it briefly, as there were so many other AMAZING machines grabbing my attention. There was so much I had never seen before.

Rob took me through a few of his typewriters in his lounge. But I just was lost for words. So many cool things to see - so little time. 

Outside of his garage again, Robert grabbed a Blick out of his car, and placed it on wheelie bin. While Robert shuffled about looking for something, I gave the Blick a good go. And I have to say.... I think I want one. It extraordinarily well made and responsive. I felt confident about writing with it, and I started to see why Robert loved it so much. It was an amazing machine. 

How cool is this thing! I mean.... How cool is this thing!!!!!

Robert kept insisting that if I see a machine I like, I should take it. I saw a lot of machines I liked, but I didn't feel filling the plane was a good idea. And besides - I had too many machines as it was. I explained this to Robert, and when I told him how many he just laughed. It did seem pretty ridiculous, saying that I had too many while we were standing in an ocean of typewriters. 

But then I set my eyes on a beautiful Chrome Royal portable. Yes.... Shiny things attract me - I'm shallow like that. 'WOW'! I exclaimed, and moments later Robert had it sitting on top of another wheelie bin, while he demonstrated some of the problems that the machine had. 

A Robertus Messengerius in its natural habitat - the improvised typewriter bench. 

Rob knows his stuff. He really does. And it was absolutely awesome to meet him, and I really hope that I can chat to him again soon, if not visit again. I felt awkward about taking two of his typewriters - even if the Chrome Royal is in such a poor state of operation, and he gave it to me with the promise if getting it working. But Robert seemed more than happy to hand these machines over to me, and I was too excited by them to say no. But I knew that two would be my limit for the plane. 

On the way to the plane. 

Getting the machines on the plane is another, rather entertaining story, and worth the effort as  I now have both machines sitting at my feet, at the foot of the 1920's dining room table that I use as a desk. 

Meeting Rob made the whole trip worth while. Not for the free typewriters, that I am sure that one day I will repay him somehow for these - but because it was really worth the time meeting him, along with seeing his exhibit. He's a gentleman, and a walking - talking encyclopaedia of typewriters. And and an amazing and passionate collector. I only realised afterwards that Rob's blog barely touches on the passion Rob has for these machines, which in their own unique way - have made Robert a collector of fine works of art. 

And I know he appreciates every piece of art he owns. 

Big Jet Plane

I booked my flights this morning, and notified my boss that I intend to take an RDO next Tuesday.

Where am I going?

Why, Canberra of course... to see Rob Messenger's Exhibition!

....yeah, I'm only there for the day, and it is costing me probably a bit too much. Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuut. How many opportunities do you get like this?

Hi-Ho!