Ropes Billiard Tables Sailboards Cymbals
Today on "how it's made"... Ropes... Billiard tables... Sailboards... And cymbals. Years ago, making rope was a time-consuming process. They stretched yarn 700 to 1,000 feet-- sometimes down alleys-- and secured it on hooks. Then, they turned wheels to rotate the hooks, twisting the yarn into rope. This technique was called a rope walk. Luckily, today, we have machines to do all the work for us. These ropes are made from thousands of nylon fibers that are finer than human hair but stronger. To make rope, yarns wind around aluminum cylinders pulled by a turning spool down the line. Then, three at a time, the yarns roll over another spool that applies a protective coating of urethane. They funnel through a distribution plate that holds them evenly apart. This ensures they're at an even tension as a rocking spool twists them into one larger yarn. This machine is called the whirlwind. It twists the yarn and then winds it onto a take-up spool inside. A little arm moves back and forth, guiding the yarn so it winds evenly onto the spool. This is core yarn, and it will be used to make other rope. Now dozens of spools of nylon fiber unwind at the same time to make jackets to protect the core yarns. The fibers travel several feet over a network of rollers that act as guides and control tension on each individual fiber. They pass through distribution plates as turning bobbins below twist the fibers into yarn. A platform moves up and down to evenly wind the yarn onto the bobbin. They place 48 of these bobbins on the maypole machine-- so called because the braiding action resembles a dance around a traditional maypole. The bobbins spin and zigzag around each other as the machine pulls core yarn up through the center. Here, you can see the rope being braided around the core yarn as it's pulled up through a die. This is the braiding action in slow motion. It produces a mountain-climbing rope-- strong yet stretchy because of the twist in the core of the rope. The rope winds onto the wheel as it pulls it upwards. Then it spills into a basket. A worker pulls out a sample rope to checks its flexibility and strength. He bends it to make sure it will knot easily. Now another maypole braider weaves a synthetic rope that's stronger than steel yet lightweight and flexible. That's because the strands at the core are braided with a material called ultra-high molecular weight polyethylene. It's a high-performance thermoplastic. This rope will be used for advanced yachting. A pulley draws this high-tech rope through some metal pipes filled with steam. This shrinks the polyester jacket around the powerful core for a tight fit. These dancing bobbins do some fancy moves to produce different weaves around core ropes. They dip around and between each other in a choreographed sequence. But there are no worries about production hitting a snarl-- if a yarn breaks, the machine simply shuts down. It takes 8-10 hours to make around 3,000 feet of this large utility rope. Now for the strength test. They loop a sample piece of rope around steel posts. This one is a nylon double braid, the type used for dock lines on boats. Hydraulic pressure pulls the rope upwards while a computerized gauge measures the tension and detects the breaking point. Almost 20,000 pounds-- that's the weight of a killer whale. Needless to say, this rope is just fine. Now for another test-- they insert a steel probe, known as a fid, into some industrial rope, then place the pointed end into a hole. An electric motor forces the fid though while a gauge measures the force it takes for it to completely penetrate the rope. It took 10 pounds of pressure to push the probe through the rope, which means this rope is firm yet flexible. And that's how this useful item is made. The game of billiards has beenaround in one form or another for nearly 500 years. During the 19th century, the game's rules and equipment evolved to basically what they are today. Billiards, also known as pool, is played on a slate tabletop that's usually 8'3½" long and 4'7½" wide. Clients order billiard tables much like they would custom-designed furniture. They pick the table's style, colors, the type of wood, and its lacquer and stain. The tables come in maple, walnut, mahogany, cherry, and the most popular, oak. A computer-guided machine shapes part of what'll be the table's frame. This machine's rotating heads perform several different tasks. A profiling head carves the angle of part of the frame, a routering head creates the table's decorative grooves, and a drilling head makes holes for bolts to fit through. Six wood components, called rails, will surround the playing surface. They have diamond-shaped carvings that'll become visual markers for the players. After spraying the rails with glue, a worker inserts 18 metal nuts. They'll be used later to secure the rails to the playing surface. He attaches rubber strips along the sticky rails, which are just over three feet long. The rubber will cushion the balls when they hit the sides. The rails then pass through a press twice to ensure the rubber adheres. Next, workers move the rails along this 30-foot-long sanding machine. Rubber wheels gently grip each rail as presses rub sandpaper along the edge and top. They skip the bottom because it'll be covered. They pass the rails through this sander several times to smooth them down. To make sure everything fits, a worker pre-assembles the four sides and the middle section of the frame's base. He uses 20 metal bolts and 20 nuts to join them. And he inserts eight wooden dowels in order to align the table parts correctly. He stamps numbers on the frame sections so they can be reassembled later by pairing the same numbered parts together. Next, a worker hot glues 18 one-inch-long mother-of-pearl components called sights. He fits them into the carvings on the rails which have now been stained to the desired shade. He taps them into place using a hammer and a block made of synthetic resin. This way he won't damage the rail. A worker then lines the rubber part of the rail with cloth made of wool and nylon. He attaches it with a plastic strip that fits over the cloth and into a groove. He uses a mallet to ensure the cloth is tightly inserted. The worker then staples the cloth to the other side of the rail. A zinc and brass plaque displays the table's brand name. After shipping, workers reassemble the table in its new home. Serial numbers ensure the parts belong to the same table. Assembly takes about two hours. They match the numbered parts together using up to 50 bolts and 50 nuts. Then they level the table using metal components called leg levelers to adjust the table's height. It's like sticking a matchbook under an uneven table leg. Now comes the really heavy lifting-- workers fit the three sections of the table's top, which are made of slate and weigh up to 300 pounds each. Slate won't degrade, and it won't budge if you hit it. The workers use 12 screws to attach the slate sections to the frame. They level the sections using wedge-shaped plastic shims between the slate and the frame. Next, a worker melts wax over the cracks between the sections. He uses a scraper to smooth out the playing surface. The remaining holes will later be covered by rails. After the wax dries, they cover the table surface with cloth, which comes in a variety of colors. They cut the cloth in the corners so there won't be any creases in the lining of the pocket holes. They staple the cloth to wood strips under the slate. A worker pierces the cloth over holes in the slate so he can later attach the rails. The six pockets are six inches deep and consist of a metal frame covered with a leather lattice. Workers install 18 threaded metal rods underneath the rails. Then they flip the rail assembly and insert the rods through pre-made holes in the table top. They use nuts to secure the rods in place. Screws attach the pockets, and voilà, your table is ready. For prices ranging between $1,500 and $15,000 you have quite a stylish game. American newman darby built the first sailboards during the 1960s. He rigged a sail to a mast on a board with a tail fin and rode the wind and waves. Today's windsurfers can pay several thousand dollars for their high-tech gear. This includes a sail, a mast, and a sailboard. To make a sailboard, workers start with a long block of styrofoam. They attach a wood template, pushing nails through holes in the wood and into the block. Using an electrically heated tool, called a hot-wire, they slice the block along the curved line of the template. The result is what's known as the core. They use styrofoam because it's lightweight and buoyant. Next, a worker guides what's known as a shaper machine. It outlines a template, called a masterboard, on the left, while a spindle cuts grooves into the core on the right. The grooves are guidelines to carve the core into the shape of the masterboard later on. The shaper's 40-pound counterweight lets the spindle gently hover above the core as it cuts. Styrofoam dust flies everywhere, so the worker wears a protective mask to avoid inhaling it. A worker then saws along the grooves to reveal the initial shape of the sailboard. Another worker then sands down the core. Next, he applies almost 1 1/2 pounds of epoxy resin onto carbon fabric to reinforce the material and make it sticky. Another worker applies resin on fiberglass fabric. These strong, lightweight materials are part of the board's fabric-and-foam-sandwich construction. They'll harden inside molds of the board's top and bottom sections during the curing later on. The workers carefully scrape away about 20% of the resin. Too much and the board could crack during use. Here, the worker spreads thicker resin onto a piece of rigid foam that's 1/8 of an inch thick. He places it into the bottom mold and attaches a hand-sized plastic component called a fin box. It'll hold the sailboard's fin, which helps the user steer. They add kevlar, an ultra-lightweight synthetic fabric, as the final outer layer on the core's bottom side. After applying resin to another piece of rigid foam, a worker cuts openings through which other components will later fit. This layer is placed into the top mold and covered with more carbon fabric. Next, a worker places the core into the bottom mold. He fits two plastic components, called foot strap inserts, into openings lined with fiberglass fabric to secure them. Another plastic component, called a mast track, fits through an opening lined with a stronger carbon fabric. The track will later anchor a mast measuring up to 20 feet high. Strips of carbon fabric also reinforce the areas where the windsurfer will stand. Workers join the mold sections and insert the whole thing into a plastic sack called a vacuum bag. They tape the end shut but leave two smaller holes open. They attach two hoses to collars in these holes. An electric pump then takes about three minutes to suck all the air out of the bag. As the air is removed, pressure forces the mold sections even closer together. After curing in an oven at 100 degrees fahrenheit for 5 hours, workers separate the mold sections. Using a rotary grinder, a worker trims away excess hardened fabric and foam along the edge. The whole board got a coat of primer earlier, but now a worker sands the paint off along the edge. They place a strip of carbon fabric all the way around the edge and secure it with thin plastic wrap. After more curing, the wrapping is removed, and the board is sealed for good. Next, the sailboard gets another skin-- two coats of urethane paint. A worker locates the foot strap insert holes and cleans them out with a router bit. He uses a router to clean the inside of the mast-track opening. An enormous vinyl sticker gives the board its personality. A worker smoothes away any air bubbles. Then, after inscribing the sailboard's dimensions and serial number, he signs the board. Finally, workers glue on two rubber cushions, called deck pads. For $1,900, you've got the foundation of a very cool gliding machine. People have been crashing cymbals for centuries. History tells us that cymbals were used in israel in 1100 b.c. over the centuries, the finest cymbals have been manufactured in turkey with a secret method for blending metals. And those time-honored techniques still resound in cymbal-making today. Cymbals play an important role in today's music making. Each cymbal has its own character, resulting in subtle differences in tone. To make cymbals, they start with castings. In this case they're made of a secret blend of copper, tin, and trace amounts of silver. A worker sorts them by weight. Then a moving tray that's powered hydraulically takes them to a rotary oven. 1,500 degrees fahrenheit softens the castings, and then workers shovel them into a rolling mill. It squeezes them between two big metal cylinders. And the effect is the same as rolling out pie crust-- the castings become thinner, flatter, and larger. These castings go through a heating and rolling cycle up to 12 times depending on the type of cymbal being made. The repeated heating and cross-rolling creates a dense, interlocking weave in the granular structure of the alloy. It will make the cymbals strong enough to take a real beating. The interlocking weave will also help transmit sound waves more rapidly across the cymbal. After the cymbal has been tempered and pressed into its final shape, they place it on a spindle. While it spins, circular cutters shear the edges to a set diameter. Next, the cymbal is pounded. A hydraulic engine powers this hammering cylinder, and a computer program directs the force. These impressions will enrich the cymbal's sound by changing the path of the sound waves. Next, the application of tonal grooves. This craftsman puts the cymbal on a lathe, bottom side forward. The cymbal spins on an axle while the lathing blade cuts into it. He starts with a hand-held lathing tool and then switches to one that's mounted on the machine. Lathing removes the cymbal's outer layer and carves those important tonal grooves into it. The depth and position will vary depending on the type of cymbal being produced. He lathes the top of the cymbal entirely by hand so he can better control the amount of pressure applied. Watch those fingers. Don't worry--  he knows what he's doing. He's honed his skills over five years of apprenticeship, and no automatic machine can duplicate the fine touch of an experienced cymbal craftsman. Now he removes the newly grooved cymbal and puts it on an edging machine. A big, round metal clamp locks the cymbal in place. It spins while a cutting tool smoothes out the edge of the cymbal. Here's a before and after shot-- the ragged rim is before edging. The smoother one at the bottom is after. This guy has the best job-- he's in charge of quality assurance. That means he tests each cymbal before it's sent out into the marketplace. He's listening for a range of sounds. Now a laser etches the trademark into the cymbal. It also engraves a unique serial number. Next, a silicon pad sponges up ink from a print plate and transfers it to the cymbal. Now that the company logo is on, it's ready for shipping anywhere in the world. But this rough metal casting has already come a long way. It's been transformed into a smooth, sleek cymbal over a total of 21 days.