AussieGamer_Ben
Ben
shivan said:
where abouts in Bunnings can I find the torch and borax. and where can I get a crucible
How to melt your own gold
- Thread starter JeffP
- Start date
Help Support Prospecting Australia:
where abouts in Bunnings can I find the torch and borax. and where can I get a crucible
- Joined
- Feb 24, 2014
- Messages
- 25
- Reaction score
- 9
I bought a crucible and graphite mold on ebay, free shipping from China for under $10. I use a coke fired forge to melt it, just build a box over it with fire brick. Borax is used in the laundry and can be found in grocery stores. Mix equal parts borax with gold by volume. Pour as soon as it melts as I have read it can vaporize. Lots of videos on Youtube, Ask Jeff Williams has many good ones. Good luck
I use this oxy/map gas set + silicon dioxide crucible + borax
https://www.prospectingaustralia.com/forum/viewtopic.php?pid=228580#p228580
https://www.prospectingaustralia.com/forum/viewtopic.php?pid=228580#p228580
Yes sorry, bezomatic mapp gas is the torch i have, but slightly different from Bazza's. Crucible i got from Aussie sapphire but, but ebay has em too.
I think i got my borax off ebay, but be careful as there is some over expensive stuff, you may be better off at your grocery store, as alwayslooking suggested
I think i got my borax off ebay, but be careful as there is some over expensive stuff, you may be better off at your grocery store, as alwayslooking suggested
AussieGamer_Ben
Ben
thanx guys
- Joined
- Jan 2, 2017
- Messages
- 2,328
- Reaction score
- 3,016
As many of you are aware, mapp gas has a higher temp than propane, and mapp gas jetting varies between models, a larger nozzel jetting dose not increase the temp of the flame, but increase the volume! But this aids in getting more heat over a larger area. So in some ways you get more heat.
But they have now brought out a dual mixer line simular to oxy and acetylene. One disposable bottle of oxygen, simula to the mapp gas bottle. Feeding the flame oxygen. This should realy increase the temp. As most diy furnace units ive seen have needed two mapp gas units to get enough heat to melt gold. The twin gas line and tip was going for about $140. Plus your two bottles. I think it was pre-mixed jetted by the image.
But they have now brought out a dual mixer line simular to oxy and acetylene. One disposable bottle of oxygen, simula to the mapp gas bottle. Feeding the flame oxygen. This should realy increase the temp. As most diy furnace units ive seen have needed two mapp gas units to get enough heat to melt gold. The twin gas line and tip was going for about $140. Plus your two bottles. I think it was pre-mixed jetted by the image.
today i melted my Oallen fly poop :lol: :lol: :lol: in the electric furnace gold test 22+
not bad for a few days mucking around out there
not bad for a few days mucking around out there
i have a gold test kit
the one with the white lid is silver test
ok i got it mainly so i know what grade i am selling in my mind also some people have asked me to test their chains etc
i got it off ebay and so far its been accurate haven't had to argue with anyone
i also have a diamond tester and i hate it when ladies come up to me and ask to test the ring their husbands bought them
i find its ok it lie in some of them occasions when the husband is standing there with a total look of terror on his face :8 :8 :8
i got it off ebay and so far its been accurate haven't had to argue with anyone
i also have a diamond tester and i hate it when ladies come up to me and ask to test the ring their husbands bought them
i find its ok it lie in some of them occasions when the husband is standing there with a total look of terror on his face :8 :8 :8
7.62
That's pretty much the plot of this short story by W Somerset Maugham, made into a move in 1950, except it was peals rather than diamonds, and it wasn't the husband who was worried.
Here is the relevant bit of the story:
One evening at dinner the conversation by chance drifted to the subject of pearls. There had been in the papers a good deal of talk about the cultured pearls which the cunning Japanese were making, and the doctor remarked that they must inevitably diminish the value of real ones. They were very good already; they would soon be perfect. Mr. Kelada, as was his habit, rushed the new topic. He told us all that was to be known about pearls. I do not believe Ramsay knew anything about them at all, but he could not resist the opportunity to have a fling at the Levantine, and in five minutes we were in the middle of a heated argument. I had seen Mr. Kelada vehement and voluble before, but never so voluble and vehement as now. At last something that Ramsay said stung him, for he thumped the table and shouted.
"Well, I ought to know what I am talking about, I'm going to Japan just to look into this Japanese pearl business. I'm in the trade and there's not a man in it who won't tell you that what I say about pearls goes. I know all the best pearls in the world, and what I don't know about pearls isn't worth knowing."
Here was news for us, for Mr. Kelada, with all his loquacity, had never told anyone what his business was. We only knew vaguely that he was going to Japan on some commercial errand. He looked around the table triumphantly.
"They'll never be able to get a cultured pearl that an expert like me can't tell with half an eye." He pointed to a chain that Mrs. Ramsay wore. "You take my word for it, Mrs. Ramsay, that chain you're wearing will never be worth a cent less than it is now."
Mrs. Ramsay in her modest way flushed a little and slipped the chain inside her dress. Ramsay leaned forward. He gave us all a look and a smile flickered in his eyes.
"That's a pretty chain of Mrs. Ramsay's, isn't it?"
"I noticed it at once," answered Mr. Kelada. "Gee, I said to myself, those are pearls all right."
"I didn't buy it myself, of course. I'd be interested to know how much you think it cost."
"Oh, in the trade somewhere round fifteen thousand dollars. But if it was bought on Fifth Avenue I shouldn't be surprised to hear anything up to thirty thousand was paid for it."
Ramsay smiled grimly.
"You'll be surprised to hear that Mrs. Ramsay bought that string at a department store the day before we left New York, for eighteen dollars."
Mr. Kelada flushed.
"Rot. It's not only real, but it's as fine a string for its size as I've ever seen."
"Will you bet on it? I'll bet you a hundred dollars it's imitation."
"Done."
"Oh, Elmer, you can't bet on a certainty," said Mrs. Ramsay.
She had a little smile on her lips and her tone was gently deprecating.
"Can't I? If I get a chance of easy money like that I should be all sorts of a fool not to take it."
"But how can it be proved?" she continued. "It's only my word against Mr. Kelada's."
"Let me look at the chain, and if it's imitation I'll tell you quickly enough. I can afford to lose a hundred dollars," said Mr. Kelada.
"Take it off, dear. Let the gentleman look at it as much as he wants."
Mrs. Ramsay hesitated a moment. She put her hands to the clasp.
"I can't undo it," she said, "Mr. Kelada will just have to take my word for it."
I had a sudden suspicion that something unfortunate was about to occur, but I could think of nothing to say.
Ramsay jumped up.
"I'll undo it."
He handed the chain to Mr. Kelada. The Levantine took a magnifying glass from his pocket and closely examined it. A smile of triumph spread over his smooth and swarthy face. He handed back the chain. He was about to speak. Suddenly he caught sight of Mrs. Ramsay's face. It was so white that she looked as though she were about to faint. She was staring at him with wide and terrified eyes. They held a desperate appeal; it was so clear that I wondered why her husband did not see it.
Mr. Kelada stopped with his mouth open. He flushed deeply. You could almost see the effort he was making over himself.
"I was mistaken," he said. "It's very good imitation, but of course as soon as I looked through my glass I saw that it wasn't real. I think eighteen dollars is just about as much as the damned thing's worth."
He took out his pocketbook and from it a hundred dollar note. He handed it to Ramsay without a word.
"Perhaps that'll teach you not to be so cocksure another time, my young friend," said Ramsay as he took the note.
I noticed that Mr. Kelada's hands were trembling.
The story spread over the ship as stories do, and he had to put up with a good deal of chaff that evening. It was a fine joke that Mr. Know-All had been caught out. But Mrs. Ramsay retired to her stateroom with a headache.
Next morning I got up and began to shave. Mr. Kelada lay on his bed smoking a cigarette. Suddenly there was a small scraping sound and I saw a letter pushed under the door. I opened the door and looked out. There was nobody there. I picked up the letter and saw it was addressed to Max Kelada. The name was written in block letters. I handed it to him.
"Who's this from?" He opened it. "Oh!"
He took out of the envelope, not a letter, but a hundred-dollar note. He looked at me and again he reddened. He tore the envelope into little bits and gave them to me.
"Do you mind just throwing them out of the porthole?"
I did as he asked, and then I looked at him with a smile.
"No one likes being made to look a perfect damned fool," he said.
"Were the pearls real?"
"If I had a pretty little wife I shouldn't let her spend a year in New York while I stayed at Kobe," said he.
At that moment I did not entirely dislike Mr. Kelada. He reached out for his pocketbook and carefully put in it the hundred-dollar note.
Here is the clip.
[video=480,360]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfO-6RP7mko[/video]
That's pretty much the plot of this short story by W Somerset Maugham, made into a move in 1950, except it was peals rather than diamonds, and it wasn't the husband who was worried.
Here is the relevant bit of the story:
One evening at dinner the conversation by chance drifted to the subject of pearls. There had been in the papers a good deal of talk about the cultured pearls which the cunning Japanese were making, and the doctor remarked that they must inevitably diminish the value of real ones. They were very good already; they would soon be perfect. Mr. Kelada, as was his habit, rushed the new topic. He told us all that was to be known about pearls. I do not believe Ramsay knew anything about them at all, but he could not resist the opportunity to have a fling at the Levantine, and in five minutes we were in the middle of a heated argument. I had seen Mr. Kelada vehement and voluble before, but never so voluble and vehement as now. At last something that Ramsay said stung him, for he thumped the table and shouted.
"Well, I ought to know what I am talking about, I'm going to Japan just to look into this Japanese pearl business. I'm in the trade and there's not a man in it who won't tell you that what I say about pearls goes. I know all the best pearls in the world, and what I don't know about pearls isn't worth knowing."
Here was news for us, for Mr. Kelada, with all his loquacity, had never told anyone what his business was. We only knew vaguely that he was going to Japan on some commercial errand. He looked around the table triumphantly.
"They'll never be able to get a cultured pearl that an expert like me can't tell with half an eye." He pointed to a chain that Mrs. Ramsay wore. "You take my word for it, Mrs. Ramsay, that chain you're wearing will never be worth a cent less than it is now."
Mrs. Ramsay in her modest way flushed a little and slipped the chain inside her dress. Ramsay leaned forward. He gave us all a look and a smile flickered in his eyes.
"That's a pretty chain of Mrs. Ramsay's, isn't it?"
"I noticed it at once," answered Mr. Kelada. "Gee, I said to myself, those are pearls all right."
"I didn't buy it myself, of course. I'd be interested to know how much you think it cost."
"Oh, in the trade somewhere round fifteen thousand dollars. But if it was bought on Fifth Avenue I shouldn't be surprised to hear anything up to thirty thousand was paid for it."
Ramsay smiled grimly.
"You'll be surprised to hear that Mrs. Ramsay bought that string at a department store the day before we left New York, for eighteen dollars."
Mr. Kelada flushed.
"Rot. It's not only real, but it's as fine a string for its size as I've ever seen."
"Will you bet on it? I'll bet you a hundred dollars it's imitation."
"Done."
"Oh, Elmer, you can't bet on a certainty," said Mrs. Ramsay.
She had a little smile on her lips and her tone was gently deprecating.
"Can't I? If I get a chance of easy money like that I should be all sorts of a fool not to take it."
"But how can it be proved?" she continued. "It's only my word against Mr. Kelada's."
"Let me look at the chain, and if it's imitation I'll tell you quickly enough. I can afford to lose a hundred dollars," said Mr. Kelada.
"Take it off, dear. Let the gentleman look at it as much as he wants."
Mrs. Ramsay hesitated a moment. She put her hands to the clasp.
"I can't undo it," she said, "Mr. Kelada will just have to take my word for it."
I had a sudden suspicion that something unfortunate was about to occur, but I could think of nothing to say.
Ramsay jumped up.
"I'll undo it."
He handed the chain to Mr. Kelada. The Levantine took a magnifying glass from his pocket and closely examined it. A smile of triumph spread over his smooth and swarthy face. He handed back the chain. He was about to speak. Suddenly he caught sight of Mrs. Ramsay's face. It was so white that she looked as though she were about to faint. She was staring at him with wide and terrified eyes. They held a desperate appeal; it was so clear that I wondered why her husband did not see it.
Mr. Kelada stopped with his mouth open. He flushed deeply. You could almost see the effort he was making over himself.
"I was mistaken," he said. "It's very good imitation, but of course as soon as I looked through my glass I saw that it wasn't real. I think eighteen dollars is just about as much as the damned thing's worth."
He took out his pocketbook and from it a hundred dollar note. He handed it to Ramsay without a word.
"Perhaps that'll teach you not to be so cocksure another time, my young friend," said Ramsay as he took the note.
I noticed that Mr. Kelada's hands were trembling.
The story spread over the ship as stories do, and he had to put up with a good deal of chaff that evening. It was a fine joke that Mr. Know-All had been caught out. But Mrs. Ramsay retired to her stateroom with a headache.
Next morning I got up and began to shave. Mr. Kelada lay on his bed smoking a cigarette. Suddenly there was a small scraping sound and I saw a letter pushed under the door. I opened the door and looked out. There was nobody there. I picked up the letter and saw it was addressed to Max Kelada. The name was written in block letters. I handed it to him.
"Who's this from?" He opened it. "Oh!"
He took out of the envelope, not a letter, but a hundred-dollar note. He looked at me and again he reddened. He tore the envelope into little bits and gave them to me.
"Do you mind just throwing them out of the porthole?"
I did as he asked, and then I looked at him with a smile.
"No one likes being made to look a perfect damned fool," he said.
"Were the pearls real?"
"If I had a pretty little wife I shouldn't let her spend a year in New York while I stayed at Kobe," said he.
At that moment I did not entirely dislike Mr. Kelada. He reached out for his pocketbook and carefully put in it the hundred-dollar note.
Here is the clip.
[video=480,360]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VfO-6RP7mko[/video]
:lol: :lol: know how he feels :lol: :lol: :lol:
Thanks for the write up Doc.
Mackka
Mackka
Thanks for sharing the movie Doc.. :Y:
Packed and ready for our first trip out bush with the Prado and bushman since we bought it over 18 months ago ..
well done mate it looks the part i am sure it will serve you well
now get out there and enjoy yourselves
now get out there and enjoy yourselves
