[WaywardSon]

Dana, the native glue formula peaked my curiosity. Where did you learn of of that mix?

[Op_Tweeter]

Curious too

[Christy]

🆒🆒🆒

[Dana Acker]

Many trips around the sun ago (early 1990’s through the early-to mid 2000’s) I was part of a group called the Neo-Tribal Metalsmiths, or NTMS for short. Our guiding philosophy statement was something to the tune of: “If the apocalypse happened, and the world as we knew it and it’s ways just completely went south, could you still make a knife?” We endeavored to make high quality, functional knives, but by primitive means, and with scavenged raw materials and the use of muscle powered tools. This was at a time when many custom knifemakers were using state of the art machines, CNC’s, laser cutters, and other automated methods, and, with exotic steels and handle materials, not to mention precious metals and jewels. Knives were selling for thousands of dollars, and were highly polished collector’s pieces. Don’t get me wrong; I’m not saying that their knives were in the least bit inferior under any circumstances. They were beautiful in appearance, and their form and function were without question. Many of these makers made a year’s salary off of just a couple of knives, sold to big time collectors who traveled with armed guards, and took their treasures home and locked them in vaults. BUT, if you spend several thousands of dollars for a museum quality knife, would you take it out camping or hunting? Probably not. But for all their beauty and worth, should said apocalypse roll around, those several hundreds of thousands of dollars, often times computerized machine shops would be dark and silent. The Neo-Tribal Metalsmiths, on the other hand, could still make highly functional, yet (in their own way), quite aesthetically pleasing knives. Native peoples of old get the credit for the glue mixture. Before there were 2-part Epoxies or Gorilla or Super Glues, these Native peoples found ways to make their weapons and tools more durable and effective by employing materials they had at hand. The NTMS studied our early ancestral methodologies (there’s actually a lot more information on their ways out there than you may think). Our “glue” was developed by them. Early examples of their tools and weapons existing in museums showed they used adhesives like this. By itself melted, then hardened pine pitch tends to crystalize and become brittle thus losing its bond. To overcome this and to make the glue more tacky, beeswax was added to the melted mixture. To further give it strength, any number of aggregates were thrown into the mix while “cooking”—kind of like the idea of using rebar in wet concrete to give it stability. Rock dust, certain kinds of animal dung, and wood ashes were all suitable materials. I preferred rock dust and ashes better than animal dung, and most of my customers, I found, did as well, but one uses what one has available. We gleaned a lot of information and knowledge from old and natural ways that we could use to make knives under less than ideal conditions. And, we had a lot of fun. We grew into several “tribes” in different geographic areas around the country and Europe. On set times we’d all hold “Full Moon Parties,” and establish communications with the other “tribes.” The established custom knife societies held us in high contempt, as to their idea of knifemaking, we were the proverbial “ill-bred step children at the family reunion.” They accused us of making a mockery of modern, custom knifemaking. In a sense we did, but all that talk about us drinking blood from the skulls of our enemies, shapeshifting into predatory beasts, and eating our dead, were largely exaggerated. And, it seemed that the harder they railed against us in the knifemaking circles, the more popular we grew. We took in dozens of people who wanted to learn to make knives, but couldn’t afford to spend their college tuition money or their kids’ inheritance money or their bread and electricity money on a fancy knife shop. Through reliance on primitive ways, scavenger hunts, a little ingenuity, a lot of duct tape and baling wire, we could help people get set up with an albeit, not too pretty, but functionally working shop, for sometimes under a hundred bucks. But alas, nothing good lasts forever. As notoriety gave way to popularity, politics and egos flared, divisions crept in, and the NTMS, as an organization, either retreated so far back in the bush that they could no longer be found, or they went mainstream. But while it lasted, it was a real hoot. It helped a lot of people get into the craft who otherwise couldn’t have, and, we left an indelible scar (or stain) on the ivory towers of the exclusive, high-brow, professional knifemaking societies, not to mention, we made more than a few decent knives that are still around and in use today.

[donna.b-2-11]

Thanks so much for sharing this information it’s fascinating what a wealth of knowledge you have

[Dana Acker]

Awww, heck, even a blind pig finds an acorn every now and then.

[WaywardSon]

Hi Dana – thanks for sharing the history and story behind the native glue and the NTMS. The part of the story that peaked my cynical side was the tale of two tribes having conflict and talking down the NTMS. What is it about the human condition that there is strife in organized groups? Then the NTMS eventually having egos flare from the inside out. But putting that Peyton Place stuff aside, the details on the knife work and the history are appreciated. Thank you.

[Dana Acker]

No matter how ideal our intentions, we just can’t escape human nature.

[WaywardSon]

Amen on that.

[Porkus]

You took care of my Damascus knives, brother. Thank you Dana!

[Dana Acker]

You got it Brother!