Capricorn the Goat

The only thing that surprises me about the heightened interest in sepia and other brown inks that has flared over the past year is its lateness in coming. There was a time centuries ago when sepia ink was the norm, as common as royal blue ink is today. But then fads change and eventually traditionals are replaced with something deemed more right for the time. There is probably a good chance that royal blue ink will fall out of favor, to be replaced with another sober and conservative color of ink suitable for business documents and important signings. It might even turn out to be a return to sepia-like browns.

I’ve had a thing for brown inks for some time, and back when there were few to choose from among available stocks I had them mixed by Osamu Ishimaru, premier ink blender at Sailor. The opportunity to have custom inks mixed on the spot is something I lament about no longer living in Tokyo. In a city the size of Tokyo, where fountain pen and ink hobbyists are well served by pen clinics and festivals occurring several times a year, and where pen shops are numerous, the events and opportunities provide a near paradise for pen and ink enthusiasts. Sadly, where I live now it’s an Internet fueled hobby for the most part. Can’t say that has cured me of a mania for ink. A new ink, manufacturer or shade still has the power to set heartstrings humming.

The other day I pulled from an out of sight corner in my stacks of ink a shade of brown mixed for me by Sailor’s Mr Ishimaru maybe fours years ago at a pen clinic sponsored by Maruzen Department Store in Tokyo. At this remove it’s hard to recall my description of the brown I was looking for at the time, but surely it was something ‘woody, darkish and robust with a hearty splash of black.’ Whatever the description at the time, Mr Ishimaru as always was game for a mix and match, dip and dab search for the desired shade. The result was an ink that he suggested we call Capricorn. No idea where he came up with that name but it suited me fine. I still have a bottle half full of that woody, robust and blackish brown Capricorn.

Not a lot of critical commentary this time, but more a sampling of what the color looks like. Sailor Jentle Ink is well represented among the bottles on my shelves and I honestly cannot recall even one among them disappointing in terms of saturation, shading, purity and smoothness. If you look at the 1-3-5-7-9-10 drying time samples in the top photo, it’s clear that this Sailor ink at least is not especially quick drying. Even after nine seconds some wetness remains, though ten seconds are enough for non-smear dryness.

But look at that chocolate pudding richness in the swab in the top photo. It looks quite different from the Capricorn in the comparative brown swabs in the second picture. Fact is, the ink looks much, much better in lines of script on a page than in any quick and doubly saturated Q-tip swab. A page full of writing in Sailor Capricorn ink is a beautiful sight.

For us here in the US, the ability to acquire this ink is not so easy, since Sailor doesn’t send its ink blenders on tour to America. But for those living in Japan the difficulty evaporates when you have the ink’s mix code and the chance to attend one of the many pen clinics in most large Japanese cities. The mix code for Sailor Capricorn is: 070313031. Give this number to any Sailor ink blender and he should be able to mix up a bottle of Capricorn in about ten minutes.

The writing in the top photograph was done with a Pelikan Souverän M1000 with a broad nib.

Another Nod to Sepia Ink

Possible that I may finally have found a sepia ink that I can use comfortably on more than just rare occasions. Sepia is a difficult shade of ink, and there are limitations to how far true sepia can be stretched. Different makers have various ideas about what it should look like. Compare Montblanc and Hakase to see different notions of the color. I wrote something about these two sepia inks in a blog post last January 7 called, “Legacy of the Cuttlefish.” At that time I wrote of finding little satisfaction in either the Montblanc or the Hakase sepia, the first too red, the second too pale. Though we associate the color sepia with brown, perhaps an antique brown, the basis of the color is the black we see in the ink of the cuttlefish. It was from this that the first sepia ink was made.

This morning someone gave me a bottle of Athena Sepia ink made by the Japanese stationer, Maruzen. The whole package is antique, to the extent that even the writing on the bottle is read in the old fashioned Japanese style, from right to left. The bottle’s shape is evocative of the 1920s, and the light green box is printed in a way that gives it the appearance of an old patent medicine from grandmother’s day. Receiving the gift, I was immediately impressed by the box and bottle, seeing a connection between presentation and the antiquity of sepia ink. I hurried home eager to give the Athena Sepia a trial.

Removing the cap and looking down into the bottle you get the feeling that it is a rich shade. Somehow it doesn’t have the watery look of other sepia inks. My first experiment was with a Q-tip, and that verified the richness. I then chose a Sailor 1911 Large fountain pen with a 21k ‘M’ nib, and after washing it well, filled it with the Athena Sepia. From the first words on the page I was pleased with the color, and wondered right off if the Iroshizuku blenders at Pilot had meditated upon this Athena sepia in the formulation of their Yama-guri brown. Because that’s what the Athena Sepia is close to, and it is the older ink. They are remarkably close.

In the Sailor 1911, the flow of ink is smooth, and looking closely at the samples, perhaps you will notice the nice shading it produces. Saturation is excellent. I tried it on two different kinds of paper and had good results on both. First I put a Q-tip smear and some lines on a sheet of 100% cotton based Crane stationery; satisfaction all around. No feathering, no bleed through, and not long in drying time. Next I tried a page of thick quality Japanese paper from an old journal. In this case, too I was pleased with the ink’s performance. No feathering, but a very slight bleed through, maybe not enough to count.

No question that from here on out, when the sepia mood strikes me, it’s Athena Sepia ink from Maruzen that will color my pen’s nib.