(click here for Coffee Table, Part I)
Coffee tables have a tough job. Most of them slide back and forth several times a day, putting substantial side loads on the legs. I've seen many coffee tables with legs that have worked themselves loose over the years, and I was determined not to have that happen with this one. My goal: stout, sturdy legs with a rugged attachment to the tabletop. My starting point:
Like the tabletop, the legs were to be hollow, making them large and strong while keeping the weight under control. The first step was cutting the the eight 3.5"x3/4" planks into sixteen pieces (4 per leg), and gluing them into tubes. To make each leg tube, four pieces were glued together, edge-to-face, in a "spiral" pattern. The first glue joint:
The second glue joint:
The third and fourth glue joints, which had to be done at the same time, completing a tube:
The four completed leg tubes:
I removed the overhang on each edge with a flush-trimming router bit. Then a single pass through the table saw created a perfectly flat end on each tube, onto which I could glue a flat foot. Here the four legs are clamped at the corners of the assembly table while their feet get glued on:
With the basic shape of the legs completed, I now had to add flanges at the top for attaching the legs to the tabletop. The flanges would be 1.5" tall, made from 1" thick oak planks, and would be secured to the legs with lots of glue and 1/2" dowel pins.
Instead of making a new heavy-duty drilling jig for these dowel holes, I made a lightweight template:
The idea is that the template accurately locates small pilot holes. Since only a small bit is used, the jig doesn't require huge clamping forces to hold it in place. Once drilled, those small pilot holes then allow accurate location of the large 1/2" brad-point drill bit:
I drilled matching holes into short flange pieces (the width of the leg, 3", plus a small overhang to allow for a later flush-trim), and then glued them in place:
With two short flange pieces installed on each leg, I repeated the process with longer flange pieces to create a complete perimeter around the top of each leg, resulting in this:
As you can see, the top face of the flanges were uneven and crusty with dried glue. Some trimming was in order to get a smooth, flat face up there and trim the leg to its final length. The flange was five inches across, which meant that my 10-inch table saw would require four passes per leg to do the job, rotating the leg 90 degrees after each saw pass:
Unfortunately, this did not deliver the desired result. Despite being extra cautious, it was impossible to get all four cuts to line up perfectly, leaving small "steps" on the top face of each leg. You can see them on the left leg in this photo, close to the inside corners:
At some point I finally realized that my miter saw - with its 12-inch blade - could cut almost all the way across the flange in a single pass before the blade's hub nut made contact with the wood:
The legs were already cut to their final length, so I did my best to just barely shave off a thin layer of wood on each leg. As I did earlier on the edge of the tabletop, I scribbled light pencil marks all over the flange face, and when they disappeared, I knew I had a complete, flat face. Well, almost complete. As I said, the saw blade made it almost all the way across:
You can see the leftover wood at the top where the blade couldn't reach. This little bit of wood was easily removed with a chisel and coarse file, leaving me with the flat top I wanted.
Finally, the holes in the flange for the attachment bolts had to be drilled. As before, I used a light drilling template. But these holes needed to be perfectly perpendicular to the flange, so that the bolts would hit the threaded inserts in the tabletop without any trouble. So each leg got clamped in a vise on the drill press, and I checked with an inclinometer to make sure it was properly positioned before drilling the pilot holes:
It's hard to see in that photo, but there's an aluminum pilot-hole template that those clamps are holding in place. Once the pilot holes were drilled, I switched drill bits and bored each hole out to 1/4". Because these were through-holes, the other end was subject to tear-out when the drill bit punched through. Not wanting that to happen, I had to temporarily clamp a sacrificial block of wood underneath each hole:
With the last of the holes drilled, FINALLY, a year after starting, the buildup was completed! All that remained was finishing the bare wood surface!
The first step, of course, was a final sanding with a moderately fine-grit sandpaper. Nothing amazing to report there. As predicted, the burn marks from the router on the tabletop all sanded out nicely. The underside of the tabletop was mostly the oak-veneer plywood, which didn't really need further sanding, so once I had the rest of it (and the legs) sanded smooth, it was time to apply the stain.
I wanted to stain the table - top and bottom - in a single pass, which meant I had to get it up off of the assembly table. My solution:
I welded up a couple of simple angle-iron slings, hung from the basement ceiling with rope. Each crossbar has a pair of 6" tall posts that fit into the leg bolt holes on the tabletop. Keeping the angle-iron slings well away from the tabletop with those posts allowed unfettered access to all surfaces for brushing on stain and spraying on varnish. From somewhere in the back of my brain, I dredged up my Boy-Scout knowledge of adjustable knots that enabled me to set both slings level and at the correct height.
The legs were easier to deal with, needing only some plastic sheeting and newspaper to protect the assembly table:
The stain - "Ipswich Pine" by Minwax - transformed the table:
The bright patch isn't a defect, it's just a sunbeam coming in through the basement window.
The legs:
After letting the stain dry for several days, it was ready for varnish. From my experience with previous projects, I've found that spray-on varnish gives a finish quality far superior finish to brush-on. The downside is massive amounts of overspray. Surrounding areas need to be well-protected, and ventilation is an absolute must. I had a full respirator, so my lungs would be fine, but I didn't want to stink up the entire house with the fumes, and I didn't want to risk blowing it up, either. I set up a blower to force fume/spray-laden air out through one of the basement windows while I worked, and lots of plastic sheeting to keep the varnish mist from settling in unwanted places. Just like my "dust booth" for router work, I set up a "spray booth" for the tabletop:
On the other side of my basement, I already had a powdercoat booth set up with plastic sheeting for walls. I added more plastic sheeting in there to protect the floor and equipment, and this ended up being my second spray booth, for varnishing the legs:
After wiping down the legs and tabletop with a tack cloth to remove any dust, I spent the rest of the day applying four coats of satin-finish varnish. 24 hours after the final coat, my wife and I brought the pieces upstairs to assemble them. The underside, after attaching the legs:
Each leg has a Teflon skid on its foot to allow the table to slide more easily over the carpet. You can see the eight bolts securing each leg to the tabletop. The broad "footprint" of the bolt pattern means each bolt doesn't have to be ridiculously tight in order to ensure the leg stays firmly attached. Finally, the finished product in all its glory, next to the small, battle-weary table it's replacing:
The final dimensions of the table are 65.5" x 30"; because of the rounded edge, the usable flat area is 63" x 27.5". Despite its size, it weighs in at a svelte 80 pounds, thanks to the hollow-core design. If it had been solid instead, it would have weighed in at about 105 pounds. With the teflon skids on its feet, it slides across the carpet with surprisingly little effort, yet stays in place nicely when you prop your feet up on it.
Some other angles:
Naturally I am my own worst critic, but I'm quite pleased with how it turned out. If I could change one thing, I probably would have gone with semi-gloss varnish instead of satin, but that's a minor complaint. I'm sure I'll quickly get used to the satin finish.
Questions? Comments? Email me!
©2009, Mitchell P. Patrie