The Russian's кириллица secret.

I came across a Olympia Cyrillic typewriter on Gumtree.com.au a little while ago, and had a hell of a time getting the seller to send it to me. In the end, they just disappeared and ceased email contact. About 4 months later I saw them advertise the same machine again on the same site.

Again several emails transpired and again we got nowhere before they stopped talking.

Note: anyone looking to buy this machine on the sunshine coast, I think it's vapor-gear. Don't waste your time with it.

I've been trying to chase a handful of Soviet era artifacts for a while now. Originally I had been just seeking a Russian made telephone. But then I decided that if I were to add one to my phone collection in my cabinet, it would be nice to have some other Russian gear to go along side it. 

I wasn't too upset about not getting the Cyrillic machine, as it was a Olympia Traveller - which was too new a design and would have not really reflected the era. And besides, the Travellers have quite a reputation for being a rather shitty typewriting experience. 

But then a couple of weeks ago a Cyrillic Hermes 'Baby' with turned up on eBay AU.  I was excited, as it was a 50's era design with the 'wings' style ribbon covers, and looked largely in excellent condition. With one exception - there seemed to be something missing from the top of the typewriter. 

See, it's 'rare'. I know it is rare, because it said so on the internet so it must be true. 

It was going cheaply too... No one had placed a bid by the time I saw it, and no one bid against me. Before long, the machine was being shipped up from Tasmania. "Hey! I hope you're up on your Russian!" the seller wrote to me when he notified me that he'd posted the machine.

Now lets be clear... Russian is not the only language the uses the Cyrillic alphabet. It is just the most well known. 

By now I'm sure you've noticed what is missing from that typewriter. The Hermes logo, and the 'baby' name. 

And being who I am, all kinds of ideas started to race through my head as to why this may be. These were possibly fueled by my love of cold war spy dramas of the Le Carre type, I concocted all kinds of scenarios around this typewriter. Most of which were only heightened when the machine actually arrived.

And there it was... on my desk. 

Now, I'm not going to claim for a second that this machine actually had some kind of cold war role. And to be fair, considering Australia's rich and interesting immigration history, post second world war, this machine probably does have a much more interesting story than any dodgy spy drama could ever tell. 

But when you see this on the back....

 

... it isn't hard to start wondering about this machine. So, it was made in Switzerland and sold to the USA Market. At the time there were Hermes dealerships in AU that were directly importing themselves, so immediately I started wondering about what role this machine had in the USA before it came to Australia. 

What DID this typewriter do in the USA before coming to Australia? How did it come to end up in Tasmania? Why was there a screw missing in the back of the machine... was a bug removed? 

And then Ryan over at Magic Margin posted a blog about the Soviets spying though the typewriters inside the US Embassy.

I emailed the seller about the history of his machine, and he informed me that he hadn't had it all that long - having bought it at a car boot sale a little while ago. So there was no joy to be had here. It seemed that this machine's story was unlikely to be given up any time soon. 

The machine it self works brilliantly. Like all of these machines, the felt seems to hold a substantial amount of musty typewriter stench. It isn't over-powering like one of my other Hermes machines had been, and was just enough to give it that 'history' feel. 

But what about the logo? I kept scratching my head about the logo.. Why was it missing? What had been there originally? Was it something that had been specially made and had a unique logo? 

 

Hang on, I can almost... almost see something there. Is it Something in Russian?!!?

There were fragments of paint on the front that looked like part of the original logo. But I couldn't quite make out what it was. Also, there were two other fragments of paint that looked like it had been pushed around and left by some kind of chemical wash. It might have been a miss-guided attempt at cleaning the machine, but it also could have been an attempt to hide something.

So... how do we find out?

Well... You could get all kinda 'C.S.I.' and whip out your specially made Black-light torch. You know, the kind that every self respecting person has sitting about the home for the thousands of potential uses that a Black-light torch has.

Your standard, garden variety black-light torch.

So I grabbed out my handy-dandy Black-light torch, and flashed it onto the Typewriter. You know... Gangnam style. Why not Gangnam? CSI always rock it out to some old crappy pop tune, why not a new crappy one? 

It's a.... it's a....... oh....

As it turned out, it wasn't even a Hermes Baby. It was a freakin' Hermes Rocket. Hardly some unexpected cold war relic! My understanding is, that the Rocket name was a label that was applied to a series of Baby machines that were specifically made for the US market. This again confirmed that this machine had taken the long way round to Tasmania. 

But there was something more... if you look at the photo you can see three pink and glowing fragments of paint. While these were somewhat the same colour as the rest of the red paintwork on the Hermes, under the Black light they glowed with considerably more oomph.

Why did they glow? Well, the glow that you see under a Black-light is caused by phosphors reacting to UV light. It actually produces light when it is hit by the UV rays. Phosphors have been used more recently in modern products to give brighter tones and more defined colours.

It doesn't mean that the paint on this typewriter was younger, but it does indicate it was applied in different conditions in a different process. The fragments themselves were thicker than any of the text, including the bold 'Hermes' logo. So it is again a bit of a mystery as to where it came from, and what it originally may have depicted. I suspect that something had been stamped or painted over the top of Hermes Rocket logo, but unfortunately none of it had bonded enough to stay behind. But would have been this that was washed off when the bulk of the original logo was removed. 

Anyway... I'm very happy with this machine. After a little bit of servicing it is writing and running extremely smoothly. What more could I want! 

I know what more I could want.... A Russian telephone for my collection. Now.... any of my readers got any Soviet Telephones?

До свидания, пока мы в следующий раз встретиться. И благодарю вас за чтение.

Typing in the museum. Let them free!

Walking into the Charleville museum I was confronted by what I thought was an odd collection of typewriters. There was almost no information on each item, and they seemed to be just thrown into place as though they were set up for some ad-hoc type-in for really, really thin people that didn't need elbow room. 

However the ribbons were all dry, and the machines were in such an awful state that I almost felt compelled to grab my tool kit out of the back of Ruby, and start getting these machines back into some kind of working condition. Although, I also wished I could free them from their slumber, and get them back into use. 

The museum itself was a miasma of disorganisation. The displays seemed to be organised, no, mostly thrown together with similar birds of a feather - as though it were more of an antique shop that was being run by some shuffling - half blind retiree. 

But it's not a shop. It's a museum run by a shuffling - half blind retiree, along with a group of community volunteers.

One of those volunteers was present at the time, and he seemed to be just walking around in his high-vis shirt keeping an eye on me while I poked and prodded my way through the unprotected displays that were defended by the occasional 'do not touch' sign. He had a shifter-wrench in his hand, and looked very serious. 

Some items were kept safely in cabinets, but for a large part most of the pieces were just strewn about on tables or thrown into deteriorating cupboards. 

Yeah.... Don't let the lawn-mowers get in the way of your telephones.... 

So.... By now you're thinking - 4 crappy broken down typewriters and a computery-typerwritery thing? Is that all? Well.... no! Read on my friends, read on. 

I didn't dare peel back the delicate priceless foam, while a guy holding a shifter stood near by. 

Grammar correcting typewriter you say? THAT'S what I need!

Yes, everything was piled onto everything else, and it was difficult to see some of the most interesting items. I eventually went and asked the guy that was running the place if he minded if I moved bits and pieces here and there so I could have a look at some items. 

He mostly obliged, but asked me not to touch certain things. One of the odd things were the 'Delicate wax cylinders' (old recordings). 

When I informed him that I actually had some of my own and I was unlikely to touch them anyway, he just looked at me nervously. However he offered to play one for me if I'd so like. 

I declined, and continued to sticky-beak my way through the dozen rooms - including a bedroom with some amazing 1920's women's fashion on a few mannequins, and a period piece bed. The dining room (this building was the original bank, and held the council chambers) was crammed but spectacular, while the stables (filled with old carts) and garage were fascinating. Especially the rail - ambulance. 

(I.O.U. 1 Rail Ambulance photo

When I find where I put it)

 I persevered with digging through the displays, and I have to say it was very rewarding. In the process of doing so I found a couple of very significant typewriters - in some unexpected corners of the museum.

Firstly, I have to refer to the Typosphere on what this is:

Exhibit A: Honestly, I have no idea.... But it looks cool! 

At this point it may be courteous for me to tell you all about the second typewriter I found buried in an odd corner, but I'm sorry to break it to you, you'll have to wait for my next post. While the machine itself isn't really that unusual, it is the original user that makes the machine so interesting. It's the sort of thing that would be right up Rob Messenger's ally. 

So I continued to fossick and dig through most of the rooms, finding all kinds of wonderful and weird items. I thought I had explored through almost every room, when I discovered yet another room of disorganised artefacts. I had previously avoided this room, because from the doorway it appeared to be just filled with old saws and degraded farm material. 

Boy, was I wrong.... 

Crammed into the furthest corner of the main building, was a collection of old typers that had been crammed onto a desk, and shoved into a tiny booth that was surrounded by walls made from wool bale mesh.... Because that's how this museum rolls. 

This arehad a pretty specific 'do not touch' sign, with the 'DO NOT' written in red. So, while I was in the room that was too far for the shuffling blind man to walk to, and mr Spanner-fixer in the high-vis shirt had disappeared, I naturally felt that this was an appropriate time to stick my fingers onto as many keys and levers as I could. 

After all, you don't find a linotype setup every day.... 

And can I just say... it is the first upstrike typewriter I have ever typed on. 

So... Well yes... I'll just shut up for a moment and shove some more photos onto this page. 

I want one.... 

Meh... My remington 16 looks cooler.

...... You get the picture. 

OH! Here's the rail Ambulance. 

Anyway, I've got quite a lot of photos from this museum. However I'm not going to turn this blog into 'Uncle Arthur's Slideshow night'. I'm saving a few for the next post naturally, but for now I think I've bored you enough for the time being - with the photos that were taking from my iPhone. And if Adowa  swings by, I even have a shot of some interesting antique sewing machines. 

So I hope you enjoyed this typewriter lover's casual trip around the Charleville museum... 

Oh, and here's a quick snap of was the museum looked like from outside. 

Coming up: The typewriter of the outback..... 

Photos of 'the tank'.

I got my best DSLR back from a friend yesterday, after they borrowed it to use on a course.

So, I felt it was a good time to take some photos of my Remington Quiet-riter. Such a brutal piece of metal. I think I'm in writer love.

I'm going to call this typewriter 'the tank' for now, but I think it needs a much more eloquent and becoming name.