When a dream becomes reality: on-site report of my first fountain pen making workshop.
Since my childhood, I have been fascinated by the colorful world of writing instruments. I often visited my mother's workplace, where she worked as a technical draftsman, at the Veszprém AGROTERV, where I was always amazed by the treasures on the drafting tables: the various colorful rulers, templates, fountain pens, and mechanical pencils.
My love for pens and pencils accompanied me throughout my school years, but I only started collecting fountain pens and mechanical pencils as a university student. In the 25 years since then, countless writing instruments have passed through my hands. I hunted for antique and modern pens at flea markets, online marketplaces, bid at auctions, and exchanged with fellow collectors. A few years ago, my collecting passion calmed down. The focus changed: I am now much more interested in the secrets, stories, and curiosities worth researching, as well as the human stories that make our writing instruments truly special and unique. That’s why I launched the Budapest Pen Show website last year, a community magazine for writing instrument lovers. The online magazine Pens and Watches started from the Facebook group with the aim of delving deeper into writing instrument-related topics that arise in the online community. What connects us is our shared hobby: we are all lovers of writing instruments.
The beginning of a friendship
Thanks to the group, I also got to know Sándor Pethő, the creator and owner of Pendors. Unique, handcrafted pens with whom I now have a friendly relationship. Sanyi approached me at the launch of the community magazine last summer, asking us to test his so-called kit fountain pens (this is a type of pen that can be assembled from parts, and the pen maker only shapes the pen's „body” using wood or other materials). I took my task seriously and perhaps was too strict in my judgment with today's eyes, but Sándor was not upset at all: he said he was grateful for the criticism because one learns from it.
During our first meeting, Sanyi talked a lot about his plans and that besides the kit pens, he would also have his own designed and developed fountain pen. Over the past six months, I had the opportunity to get to know him well: hardly a day went by without us discussing some professional issue. I must say: I do not know anyone more stubborn and kind-hearted than him. He has a determination and perseverance that can move mountains, a fire and enthusiasm that made me sure: we will have a Hungarian fountain pen again. And we did, and it was something special!
I clearly remember the day when Sanyi brought the beautiful Pendors P52 prototype made of ebonite for testing (Attila Sultis later named it “Big Boy”), which, like the other domestic fountain pen brand, Capillariswas made in Hungary under artisanal conditions! At that time, I did not know that I would become the owner of this impressive oversized fountain pen, which still fills me with immense joy and pride today. The Big Boy is not only the first unique pen but also my favorite fountain pen.
During our evening correspondence, we discussed designs, materials, clips, and sections, the difficulties that arose, and problems to be solved, and even where the brand logo should be placed on the pen body. It was nice to see how a pen maker searching for his own path thinks. During the conversations, the topic of a workshop visit came up more and more frequently: we decided to spend a day together making pens. The specific date was chosen over two months, and then a few days ago, I found myself standing at the Csepel suburban train terminus at 7 a.m. in the biting cold...
The fountain pen maker's workshop reveals its secrets
I didn't sleep much that night because I was terribly excited. Since I arrived in Csepel much earlier than agreed, I had time to think thoroughly about why I was so nervous. The main reason is banally simple: a childhood dream is about to come true within hours. Soon, I will be part of something I never even dared to dream of: I will be a fountain pen maker for a day. The only hitch is that I had no idea what awaited me. I remembered those educational short films about elderly Japanese fountain pen masters, as their trembling hands crafted a fountain pen. Will I have a similar experience? While I was pondering this, Sanyi arrived, and shortly after, we were on our way to his workshop.
We stopped next to a school annex. Sanyi opened the door and invited me into the spacious and bright room. My host went to feed the kittens that came to greet us, while I looked around the workshop in awe. At first glance, the room gave the impression of a real man cave. Each work station was assigned a larger machine: there was a lathe, a planer, a saw, and a polishing machine among them.
Various tools and parts stood in military order on the wall-mounted holders. A small photo corner was set up next to the entrance, and in the back of the workshop, comfortably arranged pallet furniture provided comfort. The 100-year-old workbench and the tables along the wall were covered with various items: drill bits, tools, semi-finished pens, and pen parts.
Sanyi offered me great coffee, then placed two medium-sized cardboard boxes on the table, which were filled with ebonite and acrylic resin rods.
While I was looking at the colorful materials, more and more bags filled with parts were placed on the table, and my host was telling me about making fountain pen kits.
I started to worry a bit about how I would become a fountain pen maker, but Sanyi reassured me: we start practicing by machining the wooden body of a fountain pen kit. My host turned out to be surprisingly good at teaching: he explained and demonstrated the operation of the lathe, outlined the basic safety rules, and taught me the correct grip for various knife types with wooden handles. We put on dust masks, and then the machine spun the wood held between the bushings.
He explained every movement, then handed me the knife to continue the work. I awkwardly reached for the material at the wrong angle, but he was already there behind me, adjusting my grip. The initial stiffness eased after a quarter of an hour, and I concentrated with all my nerves on the rotating material and the proper grip of the knife according to my host's instructions.
When we reached the appropriate material thickness, the knives were replaced with various grits of sandpaper, and then the still-spinning pen body received orange oil for an increasingly silky surface.
The orange oil gave a beautiful color and depth to the wood grain. As practice, we made another wooden pen body together, then Sanyi said: „And now let's make a fountain pen!”
This is how an ebonite fountain pen is made
„Have you figured out what kind of fountain pen you want?” - he asked over another cup of steaming coffee. My plan was to make my first fountain pen for my wife. I took a terracotta-colored ebonite rod out of the box because I was sure she would like this color.
We planned on paper and then discussed in detail the parameters of the fountain pen to be made: its diameter, the length of the pen, the shape of the section, and the size of the nib. By the time I finished the last sip, Sanyi had already measured and cut the ebonite rod into three pieces.
We first secured the longest piece, the future pen body, in the lathe: the first step was to create the threading area.
The long, wooden-handled knife removed the excess material from the workpiece millimeter by millimeter. Then, with a suitably sized drill bit, we carefully shaped the cavity of the pen body, slowly progressing centimeter by centimeter.
A recurring important element of the work phases was measurement. In the case of the ebonite rod, there was no bushing that would have served as a reference point, so the caliper played an important role.
When we reached the desired depth, the threading tool replaced the drill head. Next came the threading and tapping (if the thread goes inside the body, it is called tapping, if it goes to the outer part, it is called cutting). Both processes required meticulous, delicate movements and continuous monitoring.
Once we finished this, the next step was to shape the pen body.
From the spinning pen body, variously shaped knives gradually removed the excess material, while we continuously checked the material thickness with a caliper. When the pen body achieved its final shape, we removed the deeper scratches caused by the knives with various grits of sandpaper, then came the wet sanding, which made the surface of the pen body beautifully shiny. I found myself realizing that the tense concentration was gradually easing and I was starting to enjoy pen making.
At the end of the sanding process, the captivating beauty of the ebonite pen body was revealed to us.
After making the pen body, the next step was to shape the cap part.
The steps for designing the fountain pen cap were roughly the same as the phases of making the pen body, with the only difference being that for the cap, we only had to drill threads, not cut them.
Each work phase had its own sequence of movements and speed: it is not worth speeding these up, as rushing can easily lead to material damage.
After the completed cap part also received a silky shine thanks to the wet sanding, we joined the two pen parts together.
„This won't be good!" - Sanyi said sadly.
The beauty and unpredictability of unique design
It turned out that the thread on the pen body was very short, barely holding the cap. Since I kept asking my host questions, he probably couldn't pay proper attention and made a mistake during the measurement. Sanyi reassured me: „In the worst case, we will make a new pen body, but before that, we will try to fix the error. We will create a small part for the thread, what do you think?” - he asked with a smile.
I completely entrusted this work phase to him, so that the pen wouldn't be ruined due to my inexperience. At my first (and I suspect last) fountain pen making workshop, I didn't want to use another material for the fountain pen, and I would have regretted the hour and a half to two hours spent on shaping the pen body. I watched intently as Sanyi reinserted the pen body into the machine, and after a good quarter of an hour, he took it out. I could see from his eyes that he had succeeded. „I always say I'm a lucky boy!” - he said with a smile, then he screwed together the now perfectly fitting pen bodies.
Only the section shaping was left. At first glance, the available piece of material seemed shorter than necessary. „You'll see, it will be perfect!” - Sanyi reassured me, then secured the small ebonite piece in the lathe. He carefully drilled the material, then secured the steel insert with the threaded end into the section with a drop of epoxy glue, which would function as the cradle for the ink feed and the nib.
After drying, the next testing followed: we screwed the two elements together to check if the thread was functioning properly!
We also clamped the section into the lathe. The shaping of this element differed from the other parts, so it required more attention. The proper shaping of the section is excellent for personalizing the pen, as we will mostly hold the pen at this element while writing.
Sanyi shaped the final form of the section, then testing followed again: the joining of the two elements.
I did the sanding, including the wet sanding. The result was impressive.
As the process neared its end, I was impatiently waiting for us to fit the three pen parts together and for the fountain pen to take its final form. Every element fit perfectly together. Sanyi placed the prepared converter, the ink feed, and the elegant steel Bock nib into the section.
If I thought my fountain pen was finished now, I was mistaken. „Do you know what I came up with? It will get a little extra for the little one” - said Sanyi, then he disassembled the pen and put the parts back into the machine one by one. What followed was a true workshop secret: Sanyi gave the ends of the pen bodies a different coloring with a few movements, then assembled the pen. „Now we are ready! This turned out beautifully!” - he exclaimed happily.
I felt a sincere childlike joy, almost wanting to cheer as I held the graceful body in my hand. „The branding is still to come!” - he warned and placed the beautiful terracotta fountain pen into the laser engraving machine.„”You can press the green button!" - he said, laughing. In the next moment, the thin laser beam burned the Pendors logo into the pen body.
The last step was just the final polishing of the pen: Sanyi turned on the polishing machine, which had three different grit discs spinning. The polishing process seemed slow, probably because I felt that this was really the last phase of work.
After turning off the machine, we expertly examined the finished fountain pen in our hands like good stewards. While the photos of the fountain pen were being taken, I looked out the window. I was surprised to see that it was almost evening: we arrived at the workshop around eight in the morning and now it was nearly five in the afternoon.
During the time that passed, we had coffee two or three times and ate a little cake, but I really didn't feel hungry or thirsty. I felt a joy like a mountaineer after a successful summit attack. We had our last cup of coffee on the sofa made from pallets.
I asked Sanyi if he plans to hold another fountain pen making workshop in the future? I wasn't surprised when he started to protest. „I definitely wouldn't want to do more. You were very skilled, you just pushed me away from the lathe and I was just envious that you were working with that beautiful material.„ - he said, laughing. He also shared a few sentences about the Katowice Pen Show and the experiences there. That day, the sentence left his mouth at least for the third time: „I always say: I'm a lucky guy!”
I smiled because this sentence suits him very well; it could even be Sanyi's ars poetica. I consider myself lucky as well, since I got to know and can call this infinitely dedicated, life-affirming guy, a lover of his craft, my friend, who tirelessly taught the tricks of pen making that day as a great teacher. Is there a more wonderful, nobler, and more relaxing job than this? Everyone should decide for themselves.
Csaba's further articles in the Budapest Pen Show community magazine. here!
