Smith-Corona Clipper | Chris Aldrich

Acquisition: 1949 Smith-Corona Clipper Portable Typewriter

I already own and love a 4 series Smith-Corona Clipper, but I’ve been wanting one or more of the family of 5 series Smith-Coronas for a while. I purchased this Clipper on May 14th and received it earlier this week on Tuesday the 21st. Loving another Clipper already meant that it immediately skipped to the front of the line for repairs. I had planned on cleaning it up over the weekend, but impatience got the better of me.

I present a brown series 5 Smith-Corona Clipper with serial number 5C-102313.

Brown bodied Smith-Corona Clipper with green keys sitting on a wooden library card catalog next to a small vase of red roses. — All typewriters should have their own dozen red roses, n’cest pas?

Design

Smith-Corona made a modest shift in design from the late 40s series 4 models to the somewhat more modern series 5 in 1949 and throughout the 1950s. Gone were the black bodies and glass keys and in came the brown, cream, and gray bodies with plastic (mostly) green keys. Still in was the generally rounded and compact body. The shift marked, for me at least, the pinnacle of Smith-Corona engineering and manufacturing in the typewriter space. I do like the more modern design and brighter colors of the 6 series machines, but the build quality lost a little something, particularly with the introduction of more plastic into the 60s and 70s.

The broad line of series 5 models included the Clipper, Sterling, and Silent-Super models which had slight variations between them which also differentiated them in price as well. By 1957, the Clipper and Sterling both had 84 keys while the Silent-Super had 88 keys. The Sterling and Silent-Super also added an adjustable paper guide on the paper table, a line retainer, a retractable paper support behind the paper table, and a tabulator. The Silent-Super at the top of the line also included both tab set and clear keys (the Sterling had tabs, but they were manual), paper fingers, and a platen release latch along with an interchangeable platen. I’ve heard colloquially (but not seen documentation) that the Silent-Super also came with a softer platen to make it quieter, but with hardening over time, this feature has been nullified as a means of differentiating these models now. In addition to the tab set/clear keys, the Silent-Super’s additional two keys were generally the “1/!” and “+/=” in the top row.

Tom Hanks thought that this series of machines was the bees knees and said so in the documentary California Typewriter (2016):

Overall Condition

I bought the typewriter in an online auction. Photos of this particular machine made it look to be in salvageable condition, but the site/seller didn’t provide any other details. With a bargain basement price, I jumped hoping that I would be able to make the best of the machine, and if not it would be a nice learning experience and make a useful parts machine.

The case was utterly filthy and needed help; I detailed the cleaning process and various photos previously.

The exterior of the machine was in pretty good condition with only one or two minor scuffs, but it did need a serious scrub down. Given that it was brown, doing before and after photos seemed useless, but a lot of dirt and grime certainly came off in the washing process of the shell. I did a quick test on the interior with Scrubbing Bubbles which worked out well before cleaning the entire body.

Almost all of the keys were sticky and several were frozen solid (I suspect that perhaps someone used some WD-40 when they shouldn’t have?) The “C” key was not only frozen, but had been bent down on the keyboard and required some gentle forming to bring it back in line with the others. It took two rounds of mineral spirits on the segment along with a toothbrush and working the keys to get all the typebars moving like they should again.

I wasn’t super happy with the type on the initial test page, so I made some minor tweaks to the ring and cylinder followed by an on foot and motion adjustment to line the upper and lower case faces properly. The shift and shift lock fortunately worked as expected.

The touch control didn’t seem to be doing anything useful and upon checking, I discovered that the spring mechanism and linkage are loose at both ends of the settings. Not seeing any way to remedy what I was seeing, I went looking for adjustment advice online. That was a strike out, but I did find a useful video by Phoenix Typewriter which detailed an adjustment of three screws where the body of the typewriter meets the keyboard. Making the adjustment required removing the last panel of the body exterior I hadn’t already, so I took it off (and cleaned it) and adjusted things to make the touch a tad lighter and moved on. I have a theory about the old touch control being vestigial, but it’ll require some research or a service manual to verify.

This Clipper came with a 16 page manual which Richard Polt has already archived at his site.

Based on the serial numbers in the TypewriterDatabase, the beginning serial number in December of 1949 was 5C-122567, so I can only guess that mine was manufactured late in 1949 before the beginning of December. This means that this Autumn, my new clipper will celebrate its 75th birthday. I also seem to be the owner of the second oldest 5 series Clipper listed in the typewriter database presently.

The rubber on the feed rollers is in reasonable shape and isn’t flattened. The platen is almost rock hard with only a tiny amount of “give” left and may be the last part I’ll fix by sending it off to J. J. Short Associates. With this final tweak, the machine should be in good enough shape for the next 50-75 years of its life.

Keys

The green plastic keys on the ’49 Clipper are a major change from the chrome and glass keys of the prior year’s model. The plastic seems to be double shot so that the lighter green plastic of the lettering is integral to the key and not simply printed on the keytops. The majority of the 48 keys are dark green with light green keys used for the backspace (arrow pointing right on the left side), shift, shift lock, and margin release keys (“M-R” on the right side), and a milk chocolate brown key for the spacebar, which runs roughly the length of the bottom row of 10 keys.

Of particular note with respect to my particular model, I’ve got a Dutch keyboard layout which includes the “Æ/æ”, “Ø/ø”, and “Å/å” keys. The inclusion of these which displaces the traditional “, ,”, “. .” and the “: ;” key respectively. The usual “? /” key is replaced with a “: .”. There are two unmarked green keys on the upper right of the keyboard next to the number 0 and letter P which comprise the “/ %” and “- ”” (the later for diaresis, I think, but someone might correct me). This means that the keyboard has two keys for the % symbol. Lost altogether are the usual “1/4 1/2” and “@ ¢” keys. There’s also no semi-colon, but the ever-creative and type-limited typist might remedy this with a colon, backspace, and comma.

Other Functionality

As is typical of most Smith-Coronas of this period, there is a bichrome selector with a stencil setting. The ribbon has an auto-reverse as well as a manual switch on the left side of the machine by the keyboard.

The unit includes the famous segment shift “Floating Shift”. There isn’t a traditional paper bail which appears in later versions of the Clipper, but this design incarnation does have two adjustable paper fingers as well as two card fingers which are integral to the typing point. (By the late 50s, paper bails were standard and paper fingers were only found on the higher end Silent-Supers.) Left and right adjustable margin stops are at the back of the paper table by way of sliding chrome tabs. Being a Clipper, this machine has no tabulator though this functionality was seen on the Sterling and Silent-related models.

As was the case with the prior 4 series, there is a permanent variable spacing mechanism actuated by a pulled knob on the left side of the platen.

On the bottom of the right side of the carriage is the same carriage centering lever as the prior 4 series model which is helpful for storing the machine in its carrying case; there is no carriage lock.

Next to the carriage return on the left side of the carriage is a line selector for single, double and triple spacing settings.

Case

The wooden case covered with black fabric and spring loaded hinges are almost identical to my 1948 Clipper. The internal metal hardware is slightly different and includes two metal brackets in the middle of the case where my prior version had wooden blocks nailed in.

Sadly, as ever seems to be the case, there was no included key. I suppose I’m going to have to figure out a way to do a 3D printed version of the key for my Smith-Corona cases.

For more images of the case, see the linked post referenced above.

Opened black Smith-Corona case with green interior sitting on a wooden library card catalog. — It’s only vaguely visible in the photo, but someone has written a name and address in large pencil script on the inside top of the case. It roughly looks to me like John Stramsvåg, Jh Vigegl 9, Bergen, Norway. I’m presuming it’s the name of a prior owner, though I got the machine from Orange County, California.

Typeface Sample

This machine has got an elite face with 12 characters per inch. Again, there are several Dutch-specific keys.

Sound

The bell on this rings 8 spaces before the left margin stop setting.

Here’s a sound sample of inserting an index card, writing a sentence, the bell, and a return on the 1949 Smith-Corona Clipper:

Photo Gallery

Typed white index card with a few letter As with overcircles which reads: My custom 1949 Smith-Corona Clipper Typewriter is obviously a Los Ångeles Ångels baseball fån. It automatically places a tiny hålo over any å that it feels needs one. I can only imagine how well this machine might go over in the Åthletics head office. Go Ås!

1948 Smith-Corona “Clipper”

Childhood Typewriters

I’ve had a hollow space in my chest where a typewriter wanted to be. I’d had a few inexpensive plastic ones in my childhood before having a really spectacular Smith-Corona, but I thought that through many moves it had been long lost. Until, that is, I visited my parents on spring break this past week. While going through some old papers and boxes, I ran across a dusty, but stunning old jewel from my youth.

Hiding in a corner of memorabilia was a hard black box which I immediately recognized as my old portable typewriter! I recall my parents having purchased it at a yard sale and bringing it home for us kids to use in 1984. It took a while back then to clean it up, but I used it for a variety of school projects and papers for several years until its use for school papers was later taken over by an electronic Panasonic word processor. Despite the newer technology I still preferred that old typewriter for composing and noodling around.

Ooh, my little pretty one, my pretty one

So, what is this fantastic jewel? It’s a 1948 Smith-Corona “Clipper” 4C (serial number 4C-242370). It’s still in spectacular shape. I had to re-connect the letter “A”s linkage joint, but all the keys still work well, and it’s going to need a new ribbon. The interior is a bit dusty and needs some cleaning, but a short afternoon of tinkering should make quick work of any issues.

What’s fascinating is that all of the parts and functionalities of the machine came back to me instantaneously when I touched it. I knew all the small subtleties of sliding in a sheet of paper and aligning it to perfection. All the small niceties like the single/double space switch, the margin adjustments, the lovely bell, the ribbon direction adjustment switch, and even the centering mechanism were right there at my fingertips.

Sadly the original key wasn’t with the typewriter’s lock, but it was easily pickable. I’m reasonably sure the key will turn up as I dig through my other childhood memorabilia in the near future. At the worst, I can probably print a new key using a recipe I’ve already found online. I even unearthed a roughly contemporaneous typewriter manual for the Smith-Corona Clipper model.

Sturdy black hard wooden typewriter case with black bakelite handle sitting on a wooden table.

Smith-Corona typewriter in it's case with the case top opened up to view the typewriter inside.

Close up view of the two metal latches on a portable Smith-Corona Clipper. Pushing back two sliding latches will release the top cover of the box.

The top of the black wooden case can be removed from the portable Smith-Corona Clipper and it can be used in the bottom portion of the case as pictured here. Leaving it in the case for daily use can obviously be convenient.

And the best part is that a young 12 year old was drawn to it and immediately wanted to use it and take it home with us, so the typewriter obsession may go on for at least another generation.

I can’t wait to begin using my new (old) tool for thought in my zettelkasten practice. I’m curious to see what the slow down effect of a manual typewriter has on my writing and thinking work. Perhaps the composition of my cards at the end of the day will have the added satisfaction of punching the keys of a fantastic typewriter.

If nothing else, the Clipper does look quite nice next to my Shaw-Walker card index which is from the same era.

Ultra-luxury of the “Clipper”

Just where does the Smith-Corona “Clipper” sit in the pantheon of typewriters? A variety of writers in the 21st century still talk about their love and nostalgia of specific typewriters mentioning the design esthetic of the Olivetti, a remembrance of an old Underwood, or their fondness of a Remington, but I think Tom Hanks sums things up pretty well:

This is what I would suggest: if you wanted the perfect typewriter that will last forever that would be a great conversation piece, I’d say get the Smith-Corona Clipper. That will be as satisfying a typing experience as you will ever have.
—Tom Hanks, actor, producer, typewriter enthusiast and collector, author of Uncommon Type on CBS Sunday Morning: “Tom Hanks, Typewriter Enthusiast” [00:07:30]

Of course Hanks comes by this analysis naturally as the Clipper typewriter’s namesake is the Boeing 314 Clipper, which appears prominently on the front left panel of the typewriter’s cover. The context and history of some of this airplane have been lost to current generations. Twelve of these air yachts were built by Boeing and operated for a decade between 1938 and 1948. Nine of the airplanes were operated by Pan-Am as transoceanic “one class” ultra-luxury air travel featuring lounges, dining areas with silver service for six-course meals from four-star chefs served by white coated stewards, seats that converted to sleeping bunks for overnight accommodations, and separate male and female dressing rooms for the comfort of elite businesspeople and wealthy travelers in the mid-twentieth century. As an indicator of the exclusivity and expense at the time, a one-way ticket from San Francisco to Hong Kong on the Clipper was listed for $760, which is equivalent to about $15,000 adjusted for inflation in 2021 (Klaás, 1989, p. 20).

Pan Am’s Clipper service of the 1940s represents the romance of flight in that era in the same way Smith-Corona Clipper represents the romance of typing in the ensuing decades. Most Americans’ nostalgia for the luxury and exotic freedom of airline flight in the 1960s and 1970s was built on this early experience operating the Clipper nearly 20 years before.