Despite all the effort, I realized that my progress was painfully slow.

A question began to grow in my mind.

“Perhaps this tool simply isn't meant for this job.”

That led to another question.

What kinds of files are there?
And what is the proper way to use them?

I realized that if I truly wanted the answers, I needed to talk to someone who had devoted a lifetime to making files.

While researching, I discovered a craftsman in Tokyo whose family had been making files since the Edo period.

I called immediately and arranged a visit.

His workshop was small and unpretentious.

Inside, files were still being made entirely by hand with nothing more than chisels and hammers.

The owner welcomed me with the quiet confidence of a true craftsman.

I brought along my unfinished surfboard core and the file I had been using.

After listening to my story, he smiled and said,

“Go ahead. Show me how you use it.”

He examined the marks left by the file before saying,

“That file isn't the right one. Here, try this instead.”

One after another, he handed me different files from his workshop.

“How about this one? If that doesn't work, try this.”

After I had tested several, he asked,

“Which one felt the best?”

I answered honestly.

“Among these, this one worked the best. But it's still not carving the way I'd like.”

He nodded gently.

“That's because a flat file is designed for shaping steel. What you're carving is much softer, so you're using the wrong tool.”

Then he offered another piece of advice.

“I don’t have them here, but a Surform or a Japanese saw-like rasp called a nokoyasuri would probably work much better.”

Until that moment, I had been so focused on achieving my goal that I had never truly thought about the tools themselves.

What impressed me most was not his knowledge, but his generosity.

Rather than trying to sell me what he had, he sincerely wanted to help me find the best solution.

His kindness left a lasting impression on me.

As we talked, he shared even more wisdom.

“A file isn't meant to be pulled. You push it.”

“Japanese hand planes are pulled toward the body, but most planes in the world are pushed away. In fact, most tools around the world are designed to be pushed.”

“Almost every file here is made for right-handed people, simply because most people are right-handed.”

When I mentioned that I use both hands equally well, he smiled.

“I always thought someone like you might come along someday.”

Then he brought out a special ambidextrous file that he had made himself.

“You'll need this when you start working on the FRP. It will serve you well.”

Before I left, he quietly added,

“There won't be anyone to carry on this craft after me.”

He generously gave me a few more files, and after purchasing several others, I thanked him sincerely and left his workshop.

That encounter gave me something far more valuable than new tools.

It gave me renewed confidence.

Now I knew there were tools called Surforms and nokoyasuri—Japanese saw-like rasps. With that new knowledge came a renewed sense of hope.

I was ready to return to my prototype and continue the journey.