While we’re on the subject of Wyverns,  how about this 404?  I confess I don’t know a lot about its history and I googled it this morning.  I found various dates quoted for its manufacture, the earliest being 1938.  That seems unlikely.  After all, it clearly shows the influence of the Parker 51.  It would be nice from a patriotic point of view if someone could show that the Wyvern pre-dated the Parker and was the real originator of the hooded nib but that’s not going to happen.  I think I’m right in saying that the Parker 51 went on sale in 1941 so this pen will have been made some time after that.  A date I saw repeated several times is 1949 and that seems quite likely.

Seen from above, the hood is smooth and elegantly tapered.

Underneath, it’s sculptured, though not quite as much as the contemporary Mentmore 46, perhaps.  As is often the way with these British hooded nib pens, the style is purely superficial.  Under that hood lies a normal feed and nib.  Apart from its appearance, the pen is a completely traditional lever filler.

The handsome cowled clip is shared with other Wyvern models of the time, like the 60C hatch that I wrote about recently.  This is not Wyvern’s only hooded nib pen; the last version of the No 60 has a sort of semi-hooded nib, but it lacks the elegance of line of the 404.

At a time when other manufacturers were using wrapped sheet plastic or injection moulded plastic for their pen barrels and caps, this pen is still machined from rod stock and the wall of the barrel is quite thick.  This gives the pen a solid feel though it is not heavy.

I’ve had several of these pens over the years and, curiously, they’ve all been broad-nibbed, this example being no exception.  It’s a splendid writer.

Taken overall, this is an unexpectedly good and likeable pen.  I say “unexpectedly” because I don’t really favour hooded nib pens.  I like to see the nib and be able to align the pen with the paper instantly.  The nib can be, and often is, the most decorative feature of a pen.  That said, the build quality, the elegant design and the pleasure in using the pen have won me over.

Someone recently asked for a step-by step of a repair so I’ll try to remember to point my trusty Pentax at things as I work on this Wyvern 60C.  It might not be the best example for a before-and-after because it looks pretty good for a start but we’ll see how we go.

A little bit of heat to the barrel to free things up and it comes apart very easily.  That’s a thick old sac; it’s almost certainly older than I am.  Next job is to remove the remains of the old sac from the peg.

The nib needs a little straightening so it will have to come out.  I use this bulb to get some water through the feed to make the nib/feed removal easier.

I’ll use my little scrubbing brush to clean the feed and some cotton buds will get the old ink out of the section.

The nib has been straightened and the pen’s ready to be re-sacced and reassembled.

And that’s it!  All done except for a little work with the polishes and cloths.  A very nice Wyvern.  That little doodad at the top is a bendy laser-light to help with peering into barrels.

Do you remember this pen ?  It has remained a mystery for the best part of a year but today Luiz Leite (co-author of The Chronicle of the Fountain Pen) informs me that it is a Montjoy, made in Barcelona.  I’m very grateful for the information.  All things come to she who waits.

Roll-tip was a successful manufacturer of ballpoints, fountain pens and other writing instruments before it was caught up in the takeover fever of the 1970s and became part of the same stable as Conway Stewart.   Though this pen is marked “Roll-tip” it uses the same plastic as some of the Conway Stewarts, the 64 for instance.  The clip is quite similar to that of the Conway Stewarts of the same date, less the logo of course.  Essentially, it’s a re-badged 1970s Conway Stewart.

It is quite likely that these pens were made in Germany to keep costs down.  Like the contemporary Conway Stewarts, this is a pretty bad pen.  Even Roll-tip, which was never renowned for quality wouldn’t want to boast about this offering.  The steel cap has the finish that Conway Stewart called Silvasheen.  It hasn’t worn particularly well.  The half-hooded nib is vaguely reminiscent of the Parker 45.

To be fair, though, everything works and fits as it was intended to.  The clutch still keeps the cap firmly in place and the nib lays down a decent line.  I’m assuming that the pen takes Conway Stewart cartridges.  I think I have a few of those lying around somewhere so I must give it a try.

This pen, for me, evokes sadness for the depths to which the once-proud Conway Stewart company had fallen.  Despite desperate efforts, the firm failed to recover, as we know, and this otherwise insignificant Roll-tip pen becomes a final footnote in Conway Stewart history.