Kelp Caviar
Luxury Sailboats
Dental Crowns
High

Caviar is made by processing the unfertilized eggs of certain species of fish.

For those who love the taste but not the price, there's simulated caviar made of kelp, a type of seaweed.

A fraction of the cost, it looks, smells, and tastes similar to the real thing.

Unlike fish caviar, the source of kelp caviar is a plant, so it's fat-free, cholesterol-free, and has zero calories.

This company makes its kelp caviar plain, which is vegetarian, as well as in several flavors.

Kelp is chock-full of vitamins and minerals and is especially rich in iodine.

Being a marine plant, it's quite different from land plants in that its consistency is gelatinous, which makes it ideal for producing little rubbery balls that resemble fish eggs.

At the kelp caviar factory, they begin production with kelp that's been dried naturally, then ground into a fine powder.

The other ingredients are salt, citric acid, and, if they're making a flavored variety, natural flavoring in liquid form.

They add the ingredients one at a time to water.

The mixer blends them thoroughly for about an hour, producing a thick, gelatinous liquid.

They transfer the mixture into a pot connected to an extrusion machine.

The machine pumps the mixture through what looks like a showerhead, only instead of outputting a steady stream, it squeezes out droplets, producing tiny kelp balls called pearls, which look exactly like fish eggs.

The pearls drop into a coagulation solution.

Besides providing a soft landing, this solution helps hold the pearls' shape.

The pearls roll down a chute into waiting containers.

The water drains out the bottom.

Workers empty the containers into large colanders.

Then they rinse and strain the pearls to ensure they're all a certain minimum size.

Pearls that are too small simply fall through the colander's holes.

They weigh out a specific quantity and mix in an all-natural stabilizer required to maintain the pearls' texture and round shape.

The factory's quality-control lab tests a sample from the batch to make sure the ph level is just right.

Careful ph control, coupled with pasteurization, is why this product doesn't require any preservatives.

At the packaging station, workers fill glass jars, then twist a tin lid onto each one.

Then the jars go into a pasteurization machine.

It heats the caviar to a high temperature for a specific period of time, which kills off any bacteria.

This ensures a two-year shelf life without refrigeration.

Once opened, the product stays fresh in the fridge for three months.

After printing each lid with a lot number for tracking purposes, all that's left to do is dress the jar in a cardboard label.

Kelp caviar contains no artificial colors or flavors.

Unlike certain types of caviar, it doesn't bleed color to the surrounding food, even when baked.

And while real caviar is typically either black sturgeon roe or red salmon roe, kelp caviar comes in additional flavors, such as truffle, cognac, and wasabi.

Luxury sailboats evoke thoughts of freedom and sunsets on the ocean, but in the factory, it's all about hard work, because luxury sailboats are still mostly made by hand.

Just a few hundred units are produced every year, each boat requiring up to 3,000 hours of work.

Sailboats have come a long way since they were first used on the nile river some 6,000 years ago.

These luxury sailboats are designed using computer-aided design software, which allows the engineers to optimize the hull shape for stability and speed before actually building the boat.

They build the hull from fiberglass, which comes as knitted fabric and as mats of random strands pressed together.

These two layers are hybridized to form a light but very strong material.

Huge molds are used to build the hull of this 45-foot boat.

Workers unroll the fiberglass and spray it with resin.

Then they unroll the next layer of fiberglass, which overlaps the previous one, making for a very strong construction.

The resin hardens as it cures.

Boat parts are so large and heavy that they must be moved with cranes.

This part is called the transom.

It will be attached to the hull with fiberglass while it and the hull are still in the molds, creating what's called a monaco construction.

This hull surface will receive the structural grid, which will support the engine, mast, fuel tank, and water tanks.

Meanwhile, carpenters fashion the wood components.

This door is made of solid teak, a durable hardwood that doesn't rot.

The wood parts are then put into a curing oven at 122 degrees fahrenheit.

Air is circulated to cure the varnish in about 11 minutes.

Bright lights also help cure the varnish.

It's time to put the divisions in place.

The hull liner has slots designed to receive the various wood components.

Each part is fitted twice-- first to check the fit, then permanently with high-strength adhesive.

It's time to install the engine.

With its 54 horsepower, the boat can cruise at 8 knots, even when the wind isn't blowing.

This stainless-steel structure serves to reinforce the rudder.

It's attached with epoxy glue.

After closing the rudder mold, they insert a paper cone to completely fill the rudder with urethane foam.

The foam expands as it cures.

They finish by carefully sanding the edges of the rudder, which is now attached underneath the hull.

To build the boat's deck, molds for the top and bottom parts must be aligned.

High-strength bonding material is applied at specific spots.

The two molds are carefully fitted together.

When the parts are perfectly joined, the mold is removed.

The deck is now ready to be fitted on the boat.

Workers carefully line everything up.

Luxury sailboats have enough space for many rooms and can be customized with appliances and electronics that suit the customer's needs and tastes.

All that's needed now is a dip in the test pool for a check of the engine, generator, and other mechanical systems.

After about three months of hard work, the boat is now ready to set sail for offshore adventures.

Dental work dates back to ancient egypt, when people used animal teeth and pieces of bone to replace their own teeth.

It couldn't have been pretty, but today, high-tech dental crowns can transform damaged teeth into pearly whites that look just like all the rest.

A dental crown starts with a plaster impression of the mouth.

It goes to a laboratory, where they cut it into segments to isolate the tooth in need of restoration.

They scan it into a computer and send the dimensions electronically to the factory.

There, machinery pumps liquid plaster into molds to create cylinders called blanks.

The plaster blanks take about 10 minutes to harden, then move on to cure for an additional 12 hours.

At the next station, a robot installs a blank in a milling machine.

A computerized cutting tool sculpts the blank, guided by the scanned data of the plaster replica.

It makes a duplicate that's 20% to 30% larger to allow for material shrinkage later in production.

Next, a device dips the plaster tooth in liquid ceramic, which hardens into a nonstick glaze.

The next robot orients the tooth, along with several others, in a circular holder, ready for the next phase of production.

Nozzles funnel ceramic powder into molds arranged in a matching circular configuration.

A robot then inserts the tooth replicas in the corresponding molds.

A worker stacks several of the mold platters and threads them together with a metal rod.

He transfers the rack of mold platters to the next worker, who plunges it into a water-filled chamber.

He closes the lid and activates a pressurizing system.

As the liquid pressurizes, it compresses the ceramic powder, solidifying it.

This process takes just 10 minutes.

Another automated tool now chisels away the excess ceramic, following the profile of the plaster tooth replica that's still inside.

This creates the ceramic shell of the dental crown, called the coping.

It's removed from the plaster replica, thanks to the nonstick glaze.

Baking the coping at a very high temperature toughens the ceramic.

It also shrinks the crown shell to the final size.

They carve a plastic copy of the tooth, using the same data scanned into the computer earlier.

They use this plastic replica to test the fit of the ceramic one.

A technician inspects the ceramic for chips or cracks, then packages it for shipping.

This tooth-like shell is now on its way to the laboratory, where it will get the finishing touches that will transform it into a crown.

When it arrives at the lab, a technician paints several layers of porcelain onto it.

The color will change to a more-realistic hue once they fire it in a special furnace.

The furnace pumps out air or other gases that would hinder the transfer of heat as it bakes the porcelain to a very dense consistency.

After all the layers have been applied, a technician textures the surface with a sharp tool.

Then, she sculpts it to give it tooth-like contours.

Finally, she brushes on a clear ceramic glaze, which mimics the look of tooth enamel.

Ceramic crowns like these take about five days to make.

They'll look and function just like any other tooth, and no one need ever know the secret behind that beautiful smile.

High-performance engines are technology-packed marvels that are the result of exacting design, modern engineering, and a constant need for innovation.

Producing them requires the skills of many highly trained technicians.

It's the lucky few that will get to enjoy the performance and thrills these engines can provide.

Under the hood of this car is the latest in a long line of performance engines, legendary as much for their power as their looks.

Each generation of engine delivers an increase in power and a reduction in weight, meaning today's engines consume less fuel and produce less co2.

At the heart of every engine is the engine block.

It begins with a set of molds cast from a mixture of special sand and resin.

Technicians glue the mold parts together.

Using a hand file, they make final adjustments by sculpting the sand mold down to the finest detail.

An automated machine releases molten aluminum into the mold.

After a cooling period, the machine releases the part from the mold.

They must remove all of the sand, which formed the hollow spaces inside the engine.

They spray-wash the cylinder head to clear away any remaining debris.

Technicians now begin to pre-assemble the cylinder head and intake manifold.

Every part of the engine, such as this cylinder head, is made from aluminum-- expensive but lightweight.

Here, robots immerse valve guides in liquid hydrogen.

This causes them to contract so they can be easily inserted into the cylinder heads.

As the valve guides warm up, they expand slightly, which holds them in place permanently.

One set of valves lets fuel into the cylinder.

The other lets exhaust out.

With a blast of pressurized air, workers verify that the manifold's air-intake passages have been properly formed.

Using a specially made tool, they verify the exact dimension of each valve.

They visually inspect each cylinder head for debris and minor faults.

If it passes, a worker tags it with an i.d. plate.

Here technicians insert the valves into position, then test their movement.

Next, they machine the crankshaft down to its final specifications, and the entire assembly is positioned in the engine block.

A technician lubricates the cylinder liners...

Then inserts them into the cylinders.

They tap the liners into position with a rubber mallet.

Then, using a bit of lubricant, they insert the pistons and connecting rods into each cylinder.

With the aid of an automatic torque gun, technicians secure the connecting rods to the crankshaft, then verify the crankshaft spacing.

Next, workers position and bolt in the valve cover.

Then they install the air-intake manifold on top of the engine and attach the fuel-injection system.

They hook up the finished engine to a machine called a dynamometer, which measures every aspect of engine performance down to the smallest detail.

And now for the ultimate test--  the road test.


Air Filters
Billiard Cues
Ice Sculptures
Suits

Today on "how it's made"...

Air filters...

Billiard cues...

Ice sculptures...

And suits.

Pollutants in the air can make it tough for you to breathe and function.

But pollutants can also affect your car's performance.

It's the reason an air filter is standard equipment on internal combustion engines.

The filter keeps dirt and particles out of the engine so it runs smoothly and gives good mileage.

Trapping dust and grime is a dirty job, and it takes its toll.

Air filters get clogged and have to be replaced regularly.

So we need a steady supply.

To make an air filter, an automated spool unwinds thick paper and feeds it between two rollers.

Bumps on the rollers press indentations into the paper.

The short, vertical ones are spacers to help air flow through the filter.

The long, horizontal lines are the pre-fold creases.

The rollers fold the paper along those lines as they push it out the other side.

An automated counter keeps track of the folds, because each filter needs to have approximately 75 pleats.

Now a conveyor belt moves the paper to a circular blade.

A steel bar holds the paper pack down while the blade slides on a motorized rail, slicing the paper at the correct number of folds.

The paper pack rolls down the conveyor belt, heading to the next station.

In the meantime, a robotic arm sprays liquid wax onto the aluminum molds that will be used to shape the tops and bottoms of the filters.

The carousel turns, positioning another set for spraying.

The wax will ensure that nothing sticks to the molds during the next steps.

Now chrome-plated steel screens fall into a positioning tray.

A robot picks them up with magnets two at a time.

It places them on the bottom mold for the filter.

A platen, or plate, bearing two top molds flips forward on the carousel.

The carousel turns, and remember the paper packs?

A worker places one in each of those two top molds.

Now a robot dispenses a liquid polyurethane mixture around the screen in the bottom mold.

Then the automated platen flips back so that the top molds with the paper packs face down.

An air cylinder pushes a platen holding the bottom molds up to meet the top ones, and heat triggers this chemical reaction.

The polyurethane swells and covers the screen and the paper pack, forming a solid, flexible plastic layer.

A robot with grippers peels the new air filter out of the mold and sets it on a cooling rack.

Because of the wax sprayed onto the molds, the robots don't have to work hard to pull the air filters out.

Like well-greased cookie sheets, nothing gets stuck to the bottom.

After they're cool, the rack tips up, and the air filters tumble down a slide to a worker who collects each one.

With a band saw, she trims the excess polyurethane, or flash, from the rim.

Now all that's left is the packaging.

On another assembly line, a robot prepares to make a radial seal type of filter.

It sprays the no-stick wax onto the brims of molds that look like inverted top hats.

A small wheel turns and delivers the molds to a larger assembly wheel.

Another robot picks up plastic caps and places them inside the molds.

Then a pneumatic pusher raises the caps, and nozzles dispense a hot glue bead onto their edges.

Another pneumatic pusher tool forces round packs of pleated paper out of cylindrical holders and into the molds.

The big wheel keeps on turning, positioning the molds to receive more packs, or tubes, of filter paper.

The wheel pushes the paper-filled molds onto a conveyor belt.

And down the line, a robot pumps a polyurethane mix into the bottom mold for the filter.

A worker presses the paper-filled top mold onto it.

Heat triggers the chemical reaction that expands the polyurethane, encasing the bottom of the filter paper and forming a gasket that will fit snugly near an engine intake.

The radial air filter is now completely assembled, and it's taken just 20 minutes.

The filters are ready to work under the hood of today's automobiles.

The game of billiards has been popular for several hundred years, dating back as early as the 15th century.

Then players used a mace to strike the ball.

When the mace's large head made it tough to shoot along the rail, players started using its slimmer tail end.

This led to the invention of the cue stick so players didn't have to worry about switching back and forth.

Pick a cue, but be selective, because choosing a stick that feels right for you pays off when you're behind the eight ball.

To make the butt, or bottom section, of a cue, they start with a block of expensive bird's-eye maple.

The wood spins on a lathe.

A doughnut-shaped blade moves on rails and cuts around the circumference, turning the block into a cylinder.

As it cuts, the shavings are vacuumed away.

Now a square-tipped steel cutter carves into one end of the wood.

It makes a groove that will be used to attach the butt's forearm to its lower part.

He slides a black plastic ring around the rim and glues it down.

It's decorative, but it will also give the cue some stability.

Next, he brushes glue on top of it to attach another ring, this one made of a nickel/silver alloy.

He screws the forearm into the lower part of the butt.

Glue oozes out of the joint as the screws tighten.

The forearm is now bonded to the lower part of the cue, making one butt piece.

Then they employ a vertical cnc lathe.

Computerized cutters move up on rails, precisely tapering each butt piece to the desired diameter.

After that, another computerized tool called a cnc inlay cutter chisels geometric designs into the cue's forearm.

The same type of cutter carves matching designs from ebony wood.

A worker removes the ebony cutouts and inspects them.

He handles them cautiously because the thin strips of wood are fragile and break easily.

With a stick, he slathers a thick epoxy mixture into the cue stick's carved-out design.

The ingredients of this high-strength glue are a trade secret.

Next, he presses one of the ebony cutouts into the glue-filled cavity.

He fits a synthetic ivory cutout inside of the ebony one, pressing it down into the glue with big tweezers.

He continues to build the design with another piece of ebony.

These intricate inlays give the cue some attitude.

A cue stick's good looks can affect a player's mind-set and give him or her a competitive edge.

This glue may look a bit messy now, but when it dries, the ample amounts will keep the inlay tight, preventing air and moisture from getting in and doing damage.

He inserts little pieces of synthetic stone as a final touch...

And then presses all the pieces down with a wood dowel.

Next, a computerized drill bores a hole in the exact center of the joint section.

A second drilling makes a thread inside the hole.

He screws a steel joint pin dappled with glue into the thread created by the drill, twisting it tightly with a special tool.

When the joint is fully entrenched, he unscrews the tool.

And now the butt can be screwed to the shaft for the game and then taken apart for transport.

An automated paint gun sprays clear varnish onto the cue sticks.

A motorized stamping machine inks the logo onto the cue's butt piece.

And a worker applies glue as the cue stick turns on a lathe.

This is in preparation for the wrap.

Then the turning cue pulls linen thread from a spool, wrapping itself with the lower section with glue on it.

This linen wrap will make the cue easier to grip and will absorb moisture.

They roll the cue stick up against a high-speed cloth buffing wheel to give it a shine.

Now these cue sticks are ready for some serious competition in the pool hall.

Ice sculptures can make quite an impression at a party or social engagement.

Before they melt, their beauty can be seen and admired.

Mass production of ice sculptures is now possible with new machines and tools.

And the market for ice sculptures is expanding.

It's a curtain of ice, and it's in demand for big events.

They string beads of ice on plastic-coated aircraft cable.

As it melts, it creates a waterfall effect.

It's guaranteed to make an impression.

But just how do they get this ice to be crystal clear?

They start by tucking a plastic liner into a big tank.

They pipe filtered water into it.

Then a worker places a measuring bar with a dipstick across the tank.

The dipstick is set at 10 inches.

That's how thick the block of ice needs to be.

He clamps electric submersible pumps on each end of the tank and positions them underwater at a 45-degree angle.

These pumps are key.

They keep the water moving, forcing bubbles and impurities to the top while clear water below freezes.

He shuts the lid to allow the water to freeze.

24 hours into it, he'll remove one of the pumps.

Three days later, he probes the ice under the watery surface with a pick.

It needs to be level, so he checks the entire ice surface with a measuring bar.

Next, he siphons off the excess water with a wet vacuum.

He'll take off a couple of buckets full.

Then he attaches a lifting bar to brackets on each end of the tank and lifts the 300-pound ice block with a chain hoist.

Now he peels away the plastic liner and inspects.

The ice has to be absolutely perfect-- no clouds, cracks, or impurities.

Because water expands when it freezes, the block is a bit too thick, so they slice off the excess ice with an electric band saw, trimming it back to the desired 10-inch mark.

The steel blade cuts cleanly and evenly.

He slides the extra pieces of ice into a heated pit, where they'll melt and be recycled back into the system.

Before the ice is carved, they put the design on paper.

The artist is sketching a liquor luge-- two vodka bottles made of ice, through which drinks will flow.

Now its time to cut the ice.

The block turns on a special lathe.

Then they propel an electric router across the spinning block.

The sharp edges of the router cut into the ice.

A guide wheel above the router follows a plastic outline of a bottle so it cuts precisely to the design.

All this is done in the freezer.

The temperature in here is just over 17 degrees fahrenheit.

Now the vodka bottle is starting to take shape.

It takes about four minutes for this machine to carve it.

This task couldn't be performed as quickly or precisely by hand.

After the carving, the worker brushes off the ice shavings.

Then its time for the blowtorch.

It melts the frost so the ice looks like glass, through which you can clearly see the label and plastic tubing that have been frozen inside.

Now we have the finished vodka luge, which will be used to serve drinks at parties.

The barman pours the drinks through a funnel at the top, and the drink chills all the way down to the martini glass.

If a fish fountain is more your style, this is how it's done, the old-fashioned way.

The sculptor, armed with a chainsaw, shapes the ice following a cardboard template.

She smoothes the ice with an electrically powered disk grinder, then cuts in detail by using a die grinder with a triangular bit.

She dusts off the snow...

And then polishes the ice with a blast from the blowtorch.

Now, that's a work of art.

In today's world, suits are common, allowing both men and women to dress the part for any situation-- everyday work or a special occasion.

While men and women may wear different parts of a suit, the basics of the suit have been unaltered for over a century-- a jacket and trousers or skirt.

It's a look that's never out of style.

Every suit begins with a design on paper.

The style is precisely sketched.

It's a creative process but also highly technical.

He plans the entire outfit, right down to the last stitch.

No detail is left to chance here.

They feed the design data to this computerized cutting machine.

The blade slices through fabric placed under paper.

And because it's computerized, it's very precise, producing pieces that will fit together like a puzzle.

This is how they used to cut the fabric-- by hand.

It was more time-consuming, and the margin for error was much greater.

Now it's time to reinforce the fabric.

She places fusing tape made of fabric onto a sleeve piece and then sends it to a heat chamber with rollers that will bond the tape to the material, giving it strength.

Next, it's over to the sewing machine.

A worker lines up two sleeve layers, and it's hands-free from here.

A rail powered by compressed air descends and guides the fabric under the needle.

A computer controls the sewing.

This frees up the operator to continuously feed the machine.

This is an automatic pocket welt machine.

She places the front of a jacket under a clamp and puts the welt fabric in the clamp and a pocket flap at the side.

The clamp automatically slides the fabrics to needles that sew the welt and flap onto the jacket.

Then two tiny knives emerge and cut the pocket open.

The result-- a precisely made pocket completely by automation.

The only human involvement is to feed the machine and then collect the finished product.

Now over at another station, an operator irons fusible tape onto the open seams.

This stabilizes them and gives them a crisp finish.

A worker places the front of the jacket on a headless mannequin called a buck.

A hot metal press moves in, and the pressing reshapes the jacket to the contours of the buck.

Now she puts a sleeveless jacket on another buck and tucks a shoulder pad underneath.

She presses a pedal to activate the machine, and the hot presses lower, melting the glue on the shoulder pad, which fuses it to the jacket.

Now to steam the fabric.

Another jacket is on another mannequin.

And a worker clamps down the sleeves.

A big steam bag made of porous vinyl swings in, wafting steam onto the front of the jacket.

At the same time, hoses pipe steam into the porous mannequin cavity, so this jacket gets a steam press from both sides.

This machine is a collar master.

She folds the collar into the correct position and lowers a big fabric-covered metal press onto the collar to iron down the fold.

It's time for the auto-jig machine.

It's making an extension piece to the second button for a pant waistband.

This is the piece that goes over the second button on the waistband of dress pants.

It sews and cuts two layers of fabric that are held in a jig and then feeds the excess fabric to a vacuum tube for disposal.

Now it's time to define a crease in a pair of trousers.

An operator slides a pair of pants, inside out, onto a double rail.

Then using a device similar to a caulking gun, she pipes a silicone-based liquid along the crease line.

The liquid is a perma-crease mixture, which will give the crease some staying power.

There's also a nib on the end of this gun which sharpens the crease.

All that stitching and steaming seems to have gone without a hitch.

But the designer still needs to inspect the work to see if it measures up to his original concept.

If adjustments have to be made, he marks the spots.

That's because how it fits can be just as important as how it looks.


Inflatable Safety Devices
Braille Typewriters
Carbon

Today on "how it's made"...

Inflatable safety devices...

Braille typewriters...

And carbon-fiber cellos.

They're designed to keep your head above water.

Inflatable safety devices activate in seconds to buoy you up and keep you afloat until help arrives.

You'll find these survival devices on airplanes and boats.

Even when they're not inflated, they provide piece of mind that you'll be safe while on the water.

To make a life vest, a computer-controlled knife cuts a pattern in urethane-coated nylon.

Heat from the blade makes some pieces stick together, so a worker peels them apart.

The shiny side is the waterproof coating.

It'll be on the inside of the life vest.

They place the front of the vest on a vacuum table to hold it down.

Then they silk-screen the amount of carbon dioxide needed for inflation onto the fabric.

Next, they pull an oral inflation tube through a precut hole...

And then place the assembly under a radio-frequency press.

It emits energy that heat-seals the tube to the fabric.

They fasten the back and front vest pieces on pegs to align them.

She slides the table with the vest pieces under a big radio-frequency press.

Again, electromagnetic energy bonds the plastic pieces.

This vest has been put together without a single stitch.

The cylinder that contains the carbon dioxide has been installed.

It holds about one ounce of the gas under pressure, which will instantly inflate the vest with one tug on a tab.

It also activates automatically when immersed in water.

A little tablet inside dissolves, triggering a spring that punctures the cylinder.

Pull the cord on this pack, and you'll have an instant lifeboat, complete with a roof.

To make one, the computerized blade cuts shapes out of rubberized fabric, while a plastic film helps hold it in place.

They brush on a rubber adhesive to seal the boat's joints and press rubber tape over the glue.

They remove air bubbles.

It will take several days for the bonding to be complete.

They apply the same rubber adhesive to all the inflation valves and pressure tubes.

To help activate the glue, they wipe it with a damp rag, then insert a valve through a hole in one of the raft's air chambers.

They apply more glue to the outside around the valve and secure it with a ring called a doubler.

It really is the glue that holds everything together.

They apply more rubber adhesive onto the lower inflated chamber.

Then they stretch a sheet of rubber flooring over it.

They smooth down the edges, again, to remove air bubbles.

They run rubberized tape around the rim.

It will protect it and also act as a hinge between the floor and the upper air chamber, which will go on next.

In preparation for that, they measure to align all the inflation valves.

Then they pull the upper air chamber, the walls of the raft, on top of the floor and lower chamber.

They line up the valves but hold off on connecting them.

Next, they pump regular air into the upper chamber to test the shape and function.

A plastic strip has been keeping the glued surfaces from contacting.

They pull it out and push down to initiate contact.

Before they pack up the raft, they take stock of the survival kit.

There's the first-aid package...

Miniflares...

Food rations...

A pocketknife...

And bags of water.

There are enough supplies to keep you safe and fed while you wait for help to arrive.

A braille typewriter types raised dots using the braille system.

It's based on six dots arranged in a rectangle, three dots high by two dots across.

This is called the braille cell.

Different configurations of dots within this cell represent different letters of the alphabet, numbers, and punctuation marks.

A braille typewriter has a spacebar in the middle and six keys, one for each dot of the braille cell.

Pressing a key makes a pointed steel rod, called a stylus, type a raised dot.

To build a braillewriter, they first position the six styli one by one in a carriage with steel spacers in between.

The spacers ensure the styli move freely.

A cover plate seals the back of the carriage, and what's called a stripper plate closes the top.

The plate has six holes in the configuration of the braille cell.

When you press a key, the corresponding stylus protrudes and strikes the paper against a dot-shaped eye, creating a raised dot.

They screw the die to the carriage top but don't install it in the machine just yet.

This is how the carriage and die will meet once it's in place.

They start connecting the components which move the various styli.

The first part is a steel cam rod.

One end of it has a little eyelet called a lug.

They put a pin in it, then slip that pin through holes in the prongs of a metal strip called a link.

Later, they'll connect the other end of the link to a lever attached to a key.

The braillewriter's other components are made of cast aluminum.

The left end plate covers the left side of the machine.

To that, they connect the carriage tube, the cylinder on which the carriage rides, and the feed roller, the mechanism you turn to feed a sheet of paper into the typewriter, then what they call the rear support, an assembly of cam rods and links.

They slide the carriage onto the carriage tube.

Next, they install the drum.

The feed tube transfers the paper to the drum.

The drum winds it into the machine, positioning it for typing.

Then the rack bar.

Each tooth in it is the width of a braille cell, ensuring the carriage advances the correct distance between letters.

Next, they install the chain assembly, which advances the carriage.

They close off the other side of the machine with the right end plate.

Now they can finish the process of connecting the parts that move the styli.

So far, each cam rod connects to a link.

Now they connect each link to a cam lever, then each lever to a key.

Here's how it all works.

You press a key...

It triggers the cam lever to turn the cam rod...

And push up on the stylus.

The stylus strikes the paper against the die yet to be installed, producing a raised dot.

There's still one more paper-feed component to install--  the pressure roller.

It holds the sheet of paper against the feed tube.

Now they screw the die to the carriage top and install that on a support beam.

Then they position this assembly over the stripper plate at the top of the carriage.

They check and adjust the paper hold tension.

The back plate has slots for the two levers that adjust the margins.

The apron goes below the keys, the front plate above them.

Then the last component, the carriage lever.

When you type to the end of a line, you push this lever to the left to return to the left margin.

You also push a key on the far left to advance the paper to the next line.

Typing on a braillewriter is an embossing process, so you have to use thick paper.

You push single keys and combinations of keys to produce different configurations of dots, each signifying different letters of the alphabet.

This cello is made of carbon fibers instead of traditional wood.

Enthusiasts believe this newer carbon version has a more powerful sound than the wooden instrument.

It still has that characteristic sweetness, but it's more likely to be heard in the orchestral din.

And, after all, every musician wants to be heard.

The carbon cello was the idea of a boston symphony cellist who noticed waves resonate loudly against carbon-fiber boats.

They cut the top piece of the cello out of fabric that's woven with carbon strands.

This material is stronger than steel, yet electric shears easily cut through it.

A worker cuts out numerous top cello pieces and then sets them aside while he works on another section of the instrument.

He brushes special resin onto a fiberglass mold of the cello's back, ribs, and neck.

The mold has been prewaxed to keep the resin from sticking to it.

The idea is to saturate this big piece of carbon fabric with the resin as he tucks it into the curves of the mold.

He smoothes it down to get rid of any bubbles that could affect the cello's tone.

He brushes more resin onto the other side of the fabric, making sure it gets into all the crevices.

He sponges away any surplus and then layers more fabric and resin as he builds a laminated carbon-fiber shape.

He covers the layers with nylon-like material and trims the edges of the carbon fabric.

Next, he places perforated plastic on the nylon and piles absorbent batting on top of that.

He installs a vacuum pump and drapes a big plastic vacuum bag over everything...

Then activates the vacuum.

It sucks out the air and any excess resin.

The perforated plastic controls the amount, and the batting absorbs it.

While it's still under vacuum, they put the whole thing in an oven to bake the carbon-fiber layers together.

After they peel away the batting and plastic, it comes out looking like this.

The plies have fused together, and the shell has a sleek look to it.

They laminate the cello's top piece in a mold and bake it until it's also hard.

Using a band saw, they trim off the ragged edges and sand them for a smooth finish.

Now they clamp the cello top piece onto a fixture that has stencils on the back.

With a router, they cut out the stencil shape.

The sound will eventually emanate from these f-holes, as they're called.

They attach the company's label with glue to the inside of the cello's back section.

Then they glue around the top inner rim of the cello.

They tape the back tightly in place while it hardens.

Next, they glue the laminated carbon fingerboard to the neck of the cello.

They drill holes into the pegbox and insert the pegs which are used to tighten the strings.

Soon, this cello will be more than just a shell.

Coming up, we reveal its inner workings.

The story of this cello has many layers.

They're all carbon, and now the layers have hardened into the shape of a concert instrument.

At this point, you can't make music with it, though, because they have yet to construct the inner workings, a process that is another demonstration of fine craftsmanship.

The cello frames need a bit of bodywork.

They rough them up with sandpaper...

Then spray on a polyurethane clear coat to protect the surface.

Then it's over to the string specialist, called a luthier.

He sets a roughly cut wooden bridge on top of the cello and takes measure of the position.

The placement of this bridge needs to be exact because its job is to elevate the strings and transfer their vibrations to the instrument.

If its position is a bit off, the cello's sound will also be a bit off.

Using a grease pencil, he maps out the position of the bridge between the f-holes, then sets it aside.

Now he slips the wooden sound post into one of the f-holes and wedges it between the front and back of the cello.

The sound post is crucial.

It will strengthen the cello and couple the strings' vibrations between the front and back of the instrument.

This is delicate and highly skilled work.

He measures to determine if the sound post is on the mark.

If it's off by even a fraction of an inch, he adjusts it a bit more.

Afterwards, he double-checks the bridge's positioning.

Then, with a red grease pencil, he colors over the spots where the feet of the bridge are to sit.

He presses the bridge's feet into the grease marks, and this makes red smears on the feet.

The smears tell him where to shave the wood so that it will fit perfectly on the top of the cello.

The bridge doesn't get glued down.

It's held in place only by the pressure of the strings.

Next, he makes pencil marks on both tips of a measuring stick.

He leans the stick against the bridge at the same angle as the strings that will run over it.

He then transfers the pencil marks from the stick to the top of the bridge.

He rounds off the marks by penciling around a template.

And then he carves the bridge down to size.

He planes it down to make it thinner.

With a file, he cuts grooves to cradle the strings.

Now he moves to the bottom of the instrument and slides a spike called an end pin into a precut hole.

The end pin will rest on the floor, steadying the cello.

He lassos the end pin with plastic rope, which is attached to the tailpiece, and he rests the tailpiece on the belly of the cello.

He pulls the steel strings from the pegs and hooks them onto the tailpiece.

Like most classical string instruments, the cello has four strings.

Now he slides the strings into the grooves on the bridge.

He turns the pegs to tighten the strings.

The strings push down on the bridge, holding it in place.

He tunes the cello, and now it's ready for a real performance.


Leather Overnight Bags
Horse Exercisers
Air Hockey Tables
Copper Sculptures

Today on "how it's made"...

Leather overnight bags...

Horse exercisers...

Air hockey tables...

And copper sculptures.

Whether heading across the country or taking a weekend getaway, people love to travel.

Regardless of the destination, it's impossible to leave home without luggage.

Luggage is made from all kinds of materials, including wood, metal, plastic, hi-tech polycarbonates, and leather.

Not all leather overnight bags are created equal.

This dark brown bag was constructed with the capacity to hold water.

The process starts with full-grain hides, chrome-tanned by an outside facility.

Chrome-tanning is an effective treatment which allows the leather to become more water resistant.

This bag is constructed from a single piece of leather, making it more durable and water-tight.

First, a leather worker uses a template to cut out the shape of the bag.

He uses the machine to shave the edges off the piece of leather in a process called sciving, which prepares the leather for folding and sewing.

Using a hole punch, another craftsman taps the series of openings for riveting on buckles and other attachments.

The holes will prevent the opening from ripping.

Next, a leather worker uses a template to mark where he'll apply a strip of glue to the top edge.

He attaches a polyester strip to the bottom edge of the glue and spreads more glue on top of the polyester.

Then he folds and hammers the top portion of the leather over onto the polyester strip.

Once complete, the leather worker trims the edges of the polyester.

The leather is then placed into a machine known as a clicker, to stamp out the bag straps and other leather components.

The clicker works by applying 25 tons of pressure to custom-made dyes.

The shoulder pad is one of 22 pieces of leather that will complete the bag.

A craftsperson glues a foam rectangle between two layers of leather.

This type of glue won't bubble in hot temperatures.

Chrome-tanned hide is tough stuff, so manufacturers use a heated stamp to brand the leather with their logo.

A leather worker uses a sewing machine to piece together multiple parts of the leather.

The stitching perforations weakens the leather, so for added strength, the craftsman uses a heavy gauge continuous-filament polyester thread.

Next, a craftsman attaches the buckles.

He places one steel rivet in each buckle piece and secures it into place.

He leaves the remaining rivets out to accommodate the sewing machine, which will reinforce the attachment.

The buckles are made of high strength 316 stainless steel.

A craftsman attaches a piece of plastic to reinforce the handle and prevent the leather from becoming misshapen over time.

Once he's glued in pieces of plastic to each handle opening, the leather worker finishes all the seams.

This type of continuous-filament polyester thread is the same kind that is used to sew parachutes together.

Next, a craftswoman cleans the completed bag and applies a generous amount of leather milk to condition the leather.

The leather milk is made of all-natural, non-toxic ingredients.

The craftswoman uses a torch to singe off any stray hairs before the strap is attached to a set of upper or lower d-rings.

This first little bag can now be worn as a backpack or a shoulder bag.

Stylish and durable, this leather overnight bag is built to hold your stuff while you travel to any destination.

Horses need regular exercise to stay healthy and fit.

This innovative mechanical exerciser provides horses with a safe way to stay active on their own, especially if they spend long periods of time in their stalls.

The rotating panels of this exerciser give horses the push they need to get moving.

An operator regulates the speed of the panel, which controls the pace of the workout.

Making this horse exerciser starts with a computer-generated design.

This one is for a six-horse exerciser.

Once designing is complete, production can begin.

First, a sheet of mile-carbon steel uncoils into a rolling slitting machine.

Circular blades above and below slice the steel sheet into strips.

Most of the strips will be made into structural tubing.

One of the strips enters a 300-foot-long machine with many rollers.

The rollers shape the strip from flat to round.

More rollers shape the material.

As an induction coil energized by a radio-frequency electric current wields it together.

A blade shaves the excess steel from the wielded steam.

Meanwhile another tubing sheers the tubing against a set of guy clamping blocks, cutting it to the specified length.

Finally, the tubing exits the cutting operation.

A technician wields both plates to the tubing and adds a cable-stabilizer bar.

The completed part will serve as one of the arms that link the center shaft to the revolving panels.

Another machinist builds the panels for the exerciser's inner and outer walls.

To do so, he arranges tubing horizontally and inserts a vertical support bar.

He wields a framework to the tubing to hold the panel structure together.

He adds a steel shield to the lower part.

The shield will prevent sand from being forced out of the exerciser track by the horses' hooves.

Once construction is complete, the technician stacks the assembled panels together.

Next, an overhead monorail transports the panels to the powder-coating station.

Using an applicator, a technician applies a powder coat to the revolving panels.

The powder coat provides an anti-corrosive protective finish.

A team clamps one of the structural panels in a machine with powerful mechanical arms.

The arms bend the panel to a specified curvature.

All the structural panels are bent to the same angle, so that when looked, they'll form a round pen.

Using a press brake, a technician makes two strategic bends in a flat sheet of steel, which creates a flared three-walled part.

Another machinist fits two of these parts together to create a structure known as the tree.

Then he wields connectors to the tree for the cables and tubular arms.

A loop is wielded on top for handling purposes.

Then the tree is given a powder-coat finish to match the rest of the horse-exerciser machine.

Using a hoist, a technician lowers the drive shaft onto the motor and shakes the framework to bring the connection into alignment.

Then the assembly is tested to confirm the motor turns the shaft.

Steel panels fit to the framework to enclose the motor and protect it from the elements.

He attaches a door, so the motor can be accessed for maintenance.

Now complete, the parts are ready for shipping.

On-site assembly takes about nine hours, but it's well worth the wait when the horses get to test it out.

Halfway through the test, the operator reverses the direction of the machine to ensure all of the horses' muscles are being exercised accordingly, proving that running around in circles can be a good thing.

Air hockey was developed in the late '60s and early '70s by a group of american billiard engineers.

When in play, the puck floats on a thin cushion of air, propelled by players on each end.

With no friction, the puck moves fast, making air hockey a high-speed game.

In a game of air hockey, the puck levitates ever so slightly, made possible by a constant flow of air flowing through perforations in the playfield.

The playfield is made from a laminated composite material that's been printed with air hockey graphics.

A computerized drill cuts into three playfields at once in the same consistent pattern.

The size of the holes are a little larger than pin holes, creating over 4,600 perforations in each air hockey playfield.

An automated tool carves grooves in a sheet of medium density fiber board.

The board will serve as a base for the playfield.

Air will circulate in the grooves and exit through the playfield holes.

Next, sawdust is blasted out of the grooves.

The grooves' fiberboard moves through a glue applicator.

The rubber roller coats the top of the board with a small amount of glue, so it doesn't seep into the grooves.

As the board exits, technicians move the board onto a stack.

Once the board is in the correct position, the laminate is applied and aligned with the grooves in the fiber board.

A cardboard cover is placed on the laminate for protection as the stack moves through a press.

The weight of the press squeezes the stack together, ensuring adhesion as the glue cures.

Meanwhile, a craftswoman applies stick-on graphics onto the side apron boards.

She opens a pre-cut slot for a coin door and exposes a hole for a bolt.

She cuts open a slot for maintenance access and removes the panel that will serve as a door.

She numbers the door and the side apron piece, so she can match them up later during installation.

After applying art work to the end panels, another technician assembles curved corner parts and links mental brackets to the side apron parts.

He installs a bracket for a puck deflector in the center of the end panel and screws down the corner connectors.

He sets the end panels in an upside-down possession on the work surface and attaches the side boards to the corner connectors.

This completes the table apron.

A locked door is installed in the plywood floor.

This will serve as an interior storage compartment.

Next, a craftsman installs the coin door and secures it into place.

He mounts wire speakers that projects sound effects to a computerized optical system that tracks the puck's movements.

Once the structure is fitted with wooden panels, the game's flashing lights and sensor activators are installed.

At another station, a team flips a playfield over to work on the back.

One technician attaches a board above the open grooves, creating a chamber for airflow.

The motor and fan are installed over the small opening.

This system will blow air into the grooves and the playfield perforations.

The playfield is turned over and lowered onto the table structure.

Next, aluminum bumpers are attached to the table's border as a barrier for the puck during play.

A technician installs goal puck deflectors on the ends and screws in metal plates over the deflector cups.

He installs a lock on each goal compartment so no one can steal the puck.

Finally, the air hockey table assembly is complete.

Let the games begin.

Artisans have worked with copper for years.

The metal is soft enough to easily cut, shape, and emboss.

Unless sealed, copper's bright, shiny surface naturally tarnishes over time, producing a warm, aged finish, referred to as patina.

These intricate copper sculptures are the work of an artist with a quirky imagination.

This style of work is designed to rotate on rods as lawn art or weather vanes.

When a customer commissions a sculpture, the artist draws the sculpture on cardstock, a thick type of paper.

When planning a spinning sculpture like this griffin, the artist sketches the side view.

Using a pair of scissors, he cuts off the excess cardstock.

Then he uses smaller scissors to cut precisely along the lines of his drawing.

Now the artist has a pattern to work with.

He lays the pattern on a sheet of copper, tapes it down, and traces it with a fine-point pen to get a crisp line.

The tracing must be precise for the sculpture's components to line up properly.

He repeats this step on a second sheet of copper, since the sculpture will be two-sided.

He cuts along the line with metal sheers.

First, he cuts away the excess copper and then does the detailed cutting.

He cuts out pieces for the left and right side of the sculpture.

The artist draws an eye on the back of the right-side head.

With a round-head hammer, he taps a piece of stainless-steel wire on the line to create an eyelid.

He uses tools designed for stamping leather.

He recesses the head, so that on the reverse side, the front of the sculpture, the head will appear raised.

This technique brings dimension and texture to what was originally a flat piece of copper.

The artist hammers the back of the wing to gradually contour and texture the feathers.

He uses different tools to create finer effects such as veining.

This age-old technique of hammering a malleable metal from the reverse side to create a design in relief is called repoussé, french for "pushed back".

The artist heats a part with a torch and applies zinc chloride flux to the parameter.

This caustic solution cleans the copper, removing impurities that would prevent solder from adhering.

Then he uses a blowtorch to melt silver-based solder onto the copper, around the parameter of the part.

This step is called pre-soldering, as the sculpture will be fully soldered later.

He pre-solders the back of the pieces that will be attached to matching pieces.

Then he heats the front surface to bring out a rainbow of colors.

Next, he aligns the matching parts and heats them with a torch.

This melts the solder along the parameter, fusing the pieces together.

In areas where the sides are too far apart to be fused, he solders a small copper patch to fit over the gap.

He flattens all the seams with fine grinding tools until they appear seamless.

He repeats this process for each section of the sculpture.

Once all the sections are assembled, he solders them to each other.

The wing fits into a thin channel he hammered into the body of the sculpture.

He melts the solder in the channel to produce a neat and even seam.

To display the copper sculpture or use it as a weather vane, the artist solders a ball bearing inside a copper tube, then attaches the tube to the bottom of the sculpture.

The tube slides over a rod, so it can be set in the ground or mounted on the roof.


Exercise Bikes
Cornish Pasties
Pasta Makers
Slate Products

Exercise bikes can provide a great cardio workout.

Their tension settings are equivalent to the gears on a road bike.

Cyclists can adjust the tension to control the intensity of their workout, all while staying in one place.

Riding an exercise bike can help burn calories, increase strength, and reach fitness goals.

They start by making the bike frame, which includes the handlebars, saddle post, and flywheel housing.

An employee places all the parts in a welding fixture.

The welding system is computerized.

The fixture moves the parts into position and a robot accurately welds the joints of the frame.

It takes 20 welds to link all the parts of the bike frame.

At the next station, a machine shapes the handlebars and saddle post to the correct profile.

Then, a worker polishes the welds with a wire brush.

Next, they apply a black plastic finish to the metal.

This process is called powder coating.

An employee applies a metallic decal of the company name to the powder-coated frame.

He inserts the bearing for the pedal crank axle and gently taps it into place with a hammer.

He attaches a circuit board to the base.

It will control the resistance of the flywheel.

He threads the wiring through the hollow frame and out the handlebar post.

He drills holes in the saddle-bar tubing, then, he installs the post and adjustable locking screw.

He installs a temporary clamping lever on the flywheel framework, which will be used to tension the transmission build.

He installs the bike saddle.

Then, he uses a hydraulic system to press an axle and bearing into the center of the flywheel.

He places a product-name decal on the flywheel.

The cast-iron flywheel is the heart of the bike.

At about 40 pounds, it's heavy enough to stabilize the bike during the stationary ride.

He loops the transmission belt around the flywheel axle, then mounts the flywheel to the framework.

He installs magnetic brakes and wires them to a bike computer.

The brakes allow the rider to control the resistance during the ride.

He connects the pulley disk to the front of the bike.

Then, he loops the other end of the transmission belt around the pulley disk.

He uses a clamping lever to pull the belt tight.

He strums it and measures the sound to confirm the tension is right.

The next worker removes the clamp and places the bike in a test station.

It spins the flywheel and applies resistance.

A computer analyzes the bike's performance.

Another employee wires the switches for increasing and decreasing resistance.

She tucks the wiring inside the handlebars.

She attaches switches to the outside for easy access during the ride.

She folds the lower half of the resistance wiring up and installs the wiring sleeve in between the handlebars.

She screws the bracket to the handlebar housing, then, she connects the wires to the ride computer and attaches it to the bracket.

She opens the computer and plugs the main power cable into the back.

Then, she reinstalls the computer's back panel.

This completes the handlebar assembly.

The next worker encases the transmission belt and electrical parts in a plastic housing.

He attaches the pedals to the axle.

Then, he places plastic caps on the ends and hammers them into place.

He packages the bike and handlebar assembly separately.

This exercise bike is now ready to ride.

It may be stationary, but, when it comes to fitness, this bike should help riders go the distance.

A pasty is a common british meal consisting of meat and vegetables wrapped in a pastry.

Historically, the cornish pasty was served as a convenient meal for miners in the cornwall area of the united kingdom.

The crimped edge served as a handle, allowing workers to enjoy their food without contaminating it with their dirty hands.

The cornish pasty is the national dish of cornwall in the uk.

Its signature crimped edge, along with other characteristics, are culturally and commercially protected.

Under european union regulations, only pasties made the traditional way in cornwall can be sold as cornish pasties.

The traditional recipe begins with pastry dough.

Workers combine lard and margarine with salt and flour.

They mix these ingredients at low speeds so they don't overheat the fats.

The solid fats break up gradually and combine with the flour and salt to form a bread-crumb-like texture.

After about five minutes, they add water.

Then, they resume mixing, until the dough reaches the right consistency.

They let the dough rest for about an hour.

This relaxes the gluten in the flour, preventing the dough from shrinking when it bakes.

They put it in an extruder, which feeds it down an automated forming line.

At the first station, the dough passes through several rollers, which progressively flatten it into a sheet.

They add flour to the dough, so it doesn't stick to the rollers.

The flattened dough finally exits the first station.

The next station uses revolving cutters to slice the dough into 5-ounce disks.

The excess dough is collected and reworked into the next batch.

Flattening and cutting the dough heats it up, so they put it in a refrigerator for about an hour, to restore its elasticity.

Meanwhile, they prepare the pasties' vegetable filling.

Workers load washed potatoes into an industrial peeler.

It spins them inside an abrasive metal drum to remove the skins.

Then, the potatoes go through a dicer, which cuts them to a specific size.

The dicer deposits the potatoes in water, to remove any excess starch.

Workers combine the potatoes with diced rutabaga and onion in a vegetable mixer.

They add melted butter, to help caramelize the onions.

They also add salt, pepper, and a blend of other seasonings.

They run the mixer for about two minutes.

Then, the vegetable filling joins the other components on the production line.

Workers place the dough on a moving belt with the front edge of each disk on a white line.

This position ensures that the depositor's nozzles drop the filling onto the right spot.

Next, workers place fresh, lean skirt steak on top of the vegetables.

The steak is cut from the forequarter of prime beef.

According to european union regulations, 12.5% of a cornish pasty must be beef.

This company's pasties exceed that, containing at least 17.5%.

Highly skilled workers close the cornish pasty with the signature crimped edge.

They fold the dough in half, form 19 to 22 even crimps along the back of the pasty, then, neatly tuck the end.

This must be done with both precision and speed.

It takes these expert crimpers about 20 seconds per pasty.

Workers collect the pasties and make a small incision, to vent some moisture as the bake.

The remaining juices will infuse the vegetables, producing a flavorful gravy.

The factory immediately cools the finished cornish pasties to about 65° fahrenheit.

This keeps the raw ingredients fresh during packaging.

Pasties are stored and shipped frozen, then glazed and baked onsite.

After 45 to 50 minutes in the oven, these traditional cornish pasties are ready to serve.

Fresh pasta is made from a moist egg and flour dough that's mixed, kneaded, and rolled into a sheet.

Then, the dough is cut into soft noodles, ravioli, or other shapes, using a pasta maker.

This italian-made industrial pasta maker is designed for restaurants and smaller pasta suppliers.

The machine is only five feet wide, but it's still capable of mixing the dough and pressing it into a variety of pasta shapes.

The machine can turn dough into ravioli or assorted types of long and short pasta.

The machine's three stations-- the extruder, the ravioli maker, and the pasta cutter-- are constructed from stainless-steel parts.

A computer-guided punch press makes the required holes and slots.

Workers insert pieces into a press to bend them to the required shape.

This is a cover for one of the machine's components.

Once all the pieces are ready, workers weld them together.

The machine's pasta cutter uses stainless-steel cutting rollers to slice the pasta.

Each roller starts out as a stainless-steal rod.

A computer-guided mill carves grooves into it.

The groove width determines the width of the pasta.

The pasta cutter contains four pairs of rollers that cut the pasta to different widths: 2-millimeter-wide taglionlini, 4-millimeter-wide fettuccine, 8-millimeter-wide tagliatelle, and 12-millimeter-wide pappardelle.

Rollers are available in additional sizes.

Workers install four corresponding pairs of steel combs underneath the rollers.

The combs gently scrape the dough out of the grooves to eject the cut pasta.

Next, workers install the gears that turn the rollers.

The gears engage one another, so that the rollers revolve at the same speed.

This ensures that the cutter operates smoothly and quietly.

The motor turns the larger main gear, which moves the others.

They mount protective covers.

This critical safety feature prevents users' fingers from getting caught in the rollers.

At the base of the cutter, they mount a smooth laminating roller.

This roller thins the dough sheet before the cutting rollers slice it.

They install the electrically powered motor that turns the main gear.

Then, the handle that moves the laminating roller.

Here, they've removed the protective covers to demonstrate how the cutting rollers operate.

Next, they build the extruder.

They mount a blade in the dough mixer and connect it to an electric motor.

The extrusion tube is located directly below the dough mixer.

The dough is pushed through a bronze die in the extrusion tube.

The dies can be changed to make different types of pasta.

One die makes a flat sheet of dough, for cutting long pasta or making ravioli.

Other dies can be used to make short pasta, such as fusilli or rotini.

The machine's third station is the motorized ravioli maker.

It also has interchangeable dies, to make different shapes of ravioli.

Now, this machine is ready to make pasta.

First, they pour in the dough ingredients and mix for 15 minutes.

Then, they pull a lever to feed the dough through the extruder.

This is the die that makes a dough sheet for the long pasta cutter or ravioli maker.

They cut the dough off the extruder and put it through the cutter's laminating roller to thin it.

Then, they feed it through the rollers in one of the cutting slots.

To make ravioli, they extrude two narrow sheets and put them through the ravioli maker.

A tube injects the filling between the sheets before the die crimps them together.

A cooling system built into the extruder prevents the dough from heating up as it's forced through the die.

This keeps the pasta fresh for a long time.

Slate was originally used to make roof shingles, as well as floor and wall tiles, but, now, this metamorphic rock is used all over the house.

Artisans are using slate to create everyday items, including tableware, address plaques, and garden accessories.

These cornish slate products use traditional building materials in nontraditional ways.

In cornwall, they have been mining slate for hundreds of years.

Some of the craftsman's slate is old roof or floor tile retrieved from the demolition sites.

Other projects require new slate, fresh from the quarry.

The craftsman selects and older piece from a cheese board.

He evaluates the color, as well as the thickness and shape.

Older slate is weathered and has more colors running through it.

He scrapes the loose slate off the surface, working carefully to avoid fracturing the stone's thin layers.

He sweeps off the scrapings.

He scrubs the slate tile with a chemical cleaning solution and rinses off the residue.

The slate dries in minutes.

As the water evaporates, the color changes dramatically from dark gray to light gray with a bluish hue.

He measures the slate for cutting and scores it lightly with a sharp tool.

He places a template for the handle within the scored boundaries and marks it for drilling.

Then, he cuts the slate with a slate guillotine.

It's a double-bladed tool similar to a paper cutter.

He leaves a margin for trimming.

He breaks off the margin by tapping it with a special slater's tool and checks the edges, to confirm that they're neat.

Then, he redefines the markings for the handle holds.

The craftsman drills holes through the slate for the handles.

Then, he changes the drill bit to cut a sloped profile into the holes.

This will allow the screws to sit flush against the slate.

He brushes the edges, to get rid of loose chips, and refines the ends with a razor blade.

The craftsman washes the slate one more time.

The glues four small silicone knobs onto the base.

The knobs act as legs, so the cheese plate can be set on any surface.

He applies two coats of food-safe sealer to the slate.

Each coat takes a day to dry.

Then, he installs the stainless-steel handles.

This slate cheese board is now ready to hold a few snacks.

From an old roof tile to a nice piece of tableware.

It's quite a transformation.

Next, the craftsman slices a block of new slate with a wet saw.

New slate comes in thicker chunks.

It can be used to make signage.

He uses eight different grades of diamond abrasive pads to polish the surface until it's completely flat.

Then, he uses a computerized graphic cutter to make a stencil out of vinyl.

He places the stencil over the slate and sandblasts it with a special compound.

The process creates rough grooves in the slate.

The grooves will allow paint to adhere to the stone.

Another employee uses the stencil to apply paint to the slate.

She allows each coat of the paint to dry before brushing on the next.

She applies four coats in total.

When she's finished, she peels off the vinyl.

This custom slate sign is ready of face the street.

It takes four days to craft, seal, and paint the sign.

Now that it's complete, the sign is sure to make a rock-solid impression.


Holograms
Package Printing
Skin Culture
Canned Corn

Today on "how it's made"...

Holograms--  projections for the future...

Package printing--  how to make an impression...

Skin culture--  it definitely grows on you...

And canned corn--  we hope you're all ears.

Holograms aren't just beautiful and fascinating.

They have a certain high-tech mystique about them.

Well, stay tuned to have the mystery revealed.

Holograms are simply layered variations of an image, each one causing light to reflect in a different way.

A hologram is a 3-dimensional photograph produced by the interference of two laser beams.

A laser emits light--  this light ray.

The color of the light varies according to the wavelength.

A shutter, when activated, either blocks the light ray or lets it pass through.

Here the beam splits in two at a 90-degree angle.

The interference of the two beams is clearly visible on this screen.

It has very defined fringes.

The beams need great stability because the pattern of interference projected on the screen is extremely sensitive to minute vibrations.

A light tap on the table can easily spoil it completely.

The team will create a hologram from this sculpture made of modeling clay.

The sculpture is positioned on a support with a magnetic base that adheres to the metallic table.

Then they place a glass in front of the object.

Here's the exact point where the light beam passes.

The table has to be perfectly stable, so it's made of a 2.4-ton block of steel, which rests on 18 air tubes.

The table and laser are thus well-insulated from all vibrations.

The beam splitter separates the beam in two, directing one behind the object and the other in front of it.

One part of the beam heads toward the front of the sculpture.

The beam first passes through an objective lens that diffuses the light.

Then it's reflected by a parabolic mirror, which prevents it from losing too much of its intensity.

As in photography, film is required.

This holographic film is attached to a glass plate with adhesive tape.

Then another glass plate is added so that the film will not move.

A vibration of 1/10 of the laser's wavelength is tolerable.

The laser is turned on.

The intensity of its light ray reaches about 250 milliwatts.

The normal exposure time of the model to the beam is about one second, but some holograms made with a pulsed laser are exposed to the light for 12 nanoseconds, an infinitely short period of time.

Here we see the reference beam coming from the parabolic mirror.

And here we see it from another angle.

As in photography, the film has to be developed.

These trays contain different chemical solutions and the developer.

First the film is soaked in the developer for two minutes.

This solution blackens the silver salts that have reacted to the light.

Then the film is soaked in a solution called bleach to completely eliminate the silver salts that blackened it.

Now the film is rinsed.

This step is used to eliminate the acids in the emulsion and so as not to contaminate the next solution.

The film gently becomes transparent.

It's then rinsed in clear water.

And it's soaked for one minute in a wetting agent which eliminates all water spots.

The film is then dried, and it reveals its secrets, and here's the hologram created from the sculpture.

A hologram really creates a 3-dimensional illusion.

Some holograms can be animated.

They are generated from a series of still holograms.

Depending on the complexity of the project, a hologram can be produced from between one and five hours.

Your average product packaging is crammed with so much information, it's hard to see the artistry behind the instructions and ingredients.

An incredible amount of thought goes into making packaging that's unique, instantly identifiable, and attractive to the consumer.

All consumer products are packaged, and the making of these packages starts with the burning of an aluminum plate like this one.

This animation illustrates the burning process-- the transfer of an image onto an aluminum plate.

The plate is placed onto a cylinder, and, using a laser, the burning begins.

The image appears in six minutes.

This plate will make the printing impressions on packages.

The laser that did the burning has to be perfectly calibrated using this test plate.

The plate is now ready to make impressions via the offset method.

Printing involves ink, and it requires selecting the right one.

If the desired color does not exist, it has to be made up from a mix of various other colors.

An ink trial is done with a spatula, and, using this small manual press, color ink tests are done.

The ink is spread onto paper and the color compared with the one called for by the customer.

If the two match, the presses can be started up.

This is a 6-color offset process printing press with a 28x43-inch capacity.

The press is fed by a suction and friction process devouring 8,000 sheets an hour.

Now the printing plate is placed onto the press cylinder.

This plate will contact inking rollers of the ink reservoir.

To prevent it from drying, ink viscosity is maintained with this oscillator.

The press starts up and reaches a production rate of 8,000 impressions in 60 minutes.

The press comprises individual color printing units.

The paper sheet passes from one unit to another, receiving a new color at each step.

Here they register the colors-- that is, the quality of the superimposition of the different colors.

The final step is the folding and gluing of the boxes.

This grooved plate makes folding-point marks on the carton.

And this machine does the cutting, the embossing, and stripping of the sheets at a rate of 6,000 an hour.

The cutting die cuts the carton sheets and, together with the grooved plate, makes the folding joints.

This sheet is slid behind the cutting die to equalize the cutting of the sheets.

This enormous pile of 3,000 sheets is ready to be cut.

The embossing press feeder handles between 6,000 and 8,000 sheets an hour.

Rollers guide the sheets in the direction of the press.

And here the sheets are embossed by the machine.

The precision of the embossing is then verified.

Next comes the cutting of the sheets.

They cut 8,000 an hour.

The cutting unit strips and removes the unnecessary pieces, and the carton scraps are sucked up for eventual recycling.

The scraps can also be cut away manually using a hammer.

The carton end pieces are sent off for recycling.

All that remains is the assembly of the packages.

This high-speed gluing unit can make up to 30,000 to 40,000 per hour.

Gluing begins with the folding of sheets following the folding marks.

The sides of the formed box are then glued together.

An average of between five to eight steps are needed to fabricate a packaging box.

Every day this plant produces between 1 and 2 million boxes, requiring almost 4,000 tons of cardboard annually.

For people who've suffered severe burns there's hope.

They can be treated with skin grafts using human skin that's been cultured in a lab.

Patients who receive these grafts tend to develop less scarring and usually heal in a fraction of the time.

Culturing of skin allows us to save many lives.

To grow skin, epidermis cells have to be isolated and made to multiply.

It all begins with the removal of a small skin sample.

The 10 million cells in this piece are enough to make a culture.

The skin soaks in a medium containing penicillin and gentamicin, antibiotics which protect it from bacterial infection.

Now a piece of skin is cut and delicately sectioned on a petri dish with a scalpel.

The fat is gently detached from the dermis since it will not be needed in the culturing.

The skin is cut into thin strips because thermolysin, the enzyme that separates the dermis from the epidermis, acts more efficiently on the small surfaces.

Then an enzyme destroys the links uniting the dermis and the epidermis cells.

This procedure is carried out in this incubator over three hours at a temperature of 98.6 degrees, or body temperature.

Once incubation is over, the petri dish is removed from the incubator.

Only the epidermis cells, also called "keratinocytes," are retained.

The epidermis is detached from the dermis with great precision.

Now the strips are placed in a trypsination unit.

Trypsin, an enzyme, will destroy the links uniting the epidermis cells in order to isolate them.

This operation signals the cells to multiply now that they're in a favorable medium.

In order to increase the effectiveness of trypsin, the trypsination unit is placed on an agitator.

The cells do not have to remain in extended contact with the trypsin.

They're inhibited with a medium containing serum.

Then the liquid containing the cells in suspension is drawn off.

Now the liquid is centrifuged to obtain two fractions.

The base fraction containing the desired cells is at the bottom of the tube, while the upper floating fraction containing the trypsin has to be removed.

This upper fraction is drawn off with a vacuum system.

In order to eliminate all traces of trypsin, the culture medium is added to the base fraction, and the whole is put back into suspension.

Now the cells from the small skin sample have to be counted before being centrifuged a second time.

The cells are counted by hand using a microscope or with this apparatus.

The exact number of cells obtained during the extraction via a biopsy is determined as well as the number of cells that will have to be seeded for maximum growth.

The bottom portion of keratinocytes is divided in these flasks containing a culture medium whose composition resembles that of blood.

The cells will multiply over a week in these flasks, placed in an oven at 98.6 degrees and at 8% oxygen.

The medium in which the cells are immersed is changed every two days.

In less than a week, the cells have almost covered the entire surface of the flask.

They can now be trypsinated anew and thus reseed some 50 flasks, which in turn will be placed in the oven for about one week.

Skin strips carpet the inner surface of the flask.

They are then detached with a spatula.

The flasks are cut in two with a heating unit resembling a soldering iron.

To make handling easier, gauze is placed on the skin strips, whose thickness is less than 1/10 of a millimeter.

The graft is placed on the wound.

Clamps and the gauze will be removed after 10 days.

A patient can be skin-grafted in less than two weeks.

When it comes to vegetables, there's nothing like fresh corn on the cob.

But when that's not available, corn is also great right out of the can, and anyone with an appetite for feats of engineering will appreciate the whirlwind journey from cob to can.

Throughout man's history, food preserving has included smoking, freezing, drying, and salting.

In the early 19th century, nicolas appert built a factory to preserve foods in hermetically sealed glass jars and to sterilize them by boiling.

But glass was breakable, and so in 1810, an englishman named durand invented the tin can, first used by the military, and soldiers, it seems, first developed a handy can opener.

The corn that's canned is harvested from mid-august until mid-october.

Canning is done very quickly.

Less than four hours pass between harvesting and canning procedures so as to conserve much of the nutritional value of the product to be sold.

The unloading of many trucks of this size will be needed for the 150,000 tons of corn that are canned here annually.

The cobs are transported into the plant on this conveyor.

They will first have to pass through a kernel remover.

Equipped with several counter-rotating cylinders, this unit removes the leaves and the silk which surround the cob.

With only a few seconds, the cob is completely stripped of its covering.

Once cleaned, the cobs fall into this chute en route to the next processing step.

Here they're lined up, ready to be handled by the kernel remover.

The kernels are removed from the cobs by going through the machine where knives remove the kernels in a fraction of a second.

Each of these units remove 1.5 tons of kernels per hour.

Twice a day the machines are stopped to inspect the blades, to clean, and sharpen them.

The corn kernels fall into the middle while the cobs themselves are moved to the sides.

Both kernels and cobs move along on their separate ways in the process.

The kernels are entered into this rotating drum, which removes any particles larger than the kernels.

Nothing is wasted in the processing.

Corn residues, leaves, and cobs will all be used later as animal feed.

Now the kernels fall into a mix composed of water and of a fluid that's obtained when cutting the corn kernels.

This liquid mix allows for the transporting of the kernels without damaging them.

Next the kernels flow along this belt and are placed on this conveyor toward the following processing step.

Bleaching is done in this huge cylinder.

A worm screw brings the bleached kernels to the surface.

A visual inspection verifies the quality of the kernels.

All that remains is to pack them into these leakproof cans.

Thousands of cans of every size are carried to the filling department.

Filling the cans is done from this rotating filling machine.

This filling machine can handle 300 to 450 cans a minute.

The kernels that fall to the side are gathered up later in this cylinder and returned to the filling line.

Here a brine solution composed of water, salt, and sugar is added.

Covers are securely attached onto the containers, but the canning is not yet finished because they have to proceed with some very important tests.

They perform tests in this laboratory that assure the quality of the product.

First they check the watertightness of the cans.

They also control the filling weight and the quality of the kernels.

Meanwhile, cans continue winding their way through the plant.

One step remains--  sterilization.

Sterilization takes place in this oven at 250 degrees and lasts between 4 to 6 minutes.

This is a crucial step because it guarantees that the product is reliable and that it will remain so for 18 months.

Now they taste samples of the product to determine that it conforms to quality standards.

Cans are labeled as customers' orders are filled.

In this facility, they produce an amazing total of 43 million cans of corn.


Suits of Armor
Street Light Poles
Bent Hardwood
Membrane Switches

Today on "how it's made"...

Suits of armor...

Street-light bulbs...

Bent hardwood...

And membrane switches.

If you're the type of guy who finds wearing a tie uncomfortable, try sporting a suit of armor.

Armor reached its peak during the battle-filled 15th century.

Initially, it was made of chain mail, tiny rings of metal linked together.

Then, for greater protection, knights began wearing plate armor, suits made from large pieces of steel.

Today, armorers make this obsolete battle gear mostly for historical re-enactment buffs.

This workshop specializes in custom-made suits of armor.

The armorer has to take 45 different measurements just to prepare the pattern.

He traces each pattern piece on a steel sheet that's about 1/16 of an inch thick.

Then he cuts along the trace line with a band saw.

This is the breastplate, which covers the chest and abdomen.

Now he begins to shape the piece using an automatic hammer.

There's no mold or template to guide him.

He works strictly by eye.

Now that he has the basic shape, he refines it using a manual hammer.

He strikes the metal against an upright log, a bag of lead beads cushioning the blows.

This prevents the metal from deforming.

A few lighter blows without cushioning in select spots to finalize the shape.

Until now, he's been hammering the inside of the breastplate.

Now he works the outside.

He smoothes the metal surface, a process known as planishing.

Now, using a different automatic hammerhead, he stretches out the breastplate's bottom edge to form a rim angling outward.

He places the piece on an anvil, then, using a manual hammer, planishes the rim.

When you wear this heavy metal breastplate, the rim takes some of the weight off your shoulders by distributing it over your hips.

The armorer checks the shape, then makes any necessary adjustments.

Now, using several different hammers again, he works his way around the rest of the breastplate, gradually rolling the edge onto itself to form a rounded lip.

Rolling the metal onto itself to form the lip reinforces the perimeter of the breastplate, and the rounded edge prevents the sharp metal from cutting the skin.

The breastplate is now ready for the finishing touches.

First, the armorer smoothes the surface with medium-grit sandpaper...

Then with fine-grit sandpaper...

Then-- the last step-- with fine-grit paper and a polishing compound.

Some breastplates have an articulated styling.

For this model, the armorer uses three brass rivets to attach the sections.

He fastens them loosely to enable the pieces to move.

Then, using rivets again, he attaches leather straps.

A suit of armor is made up of about 20 different components, such as the front and back shin guards called grieves...

Armor-and-leather gloves called gauntlets...

Shoulder pieces called pauldrons...

And, of course, the helmet and visor.

A knight would don a suit of armor from the bottom up, otherwise the weight of the top components would have him keeling over, half-dressed.

In the middle ages, a suit of armor cost as much as a small farm.

It was a prized luxury only the nobility could afford.

Being a modern-day knight in shining armor doesn't come cheap, either.

A base-model suit costs about $3,000, an elaborate one up to $20,000.

We take well-lit streets for granted, but there was a time when venturing out at night meant traveling in complete darkness.

In 1814, the first gas lights lit up the streets of london, england.

The first electric streetlights illuminated a public square in cleveland, ohio, in 1879.

These streetlight poles are made of what's called composite, a combination of fiberglass and epoxy resin.

Epoxy resin is a gooey, liquid plastic mixed with a hardener.

The factory constructs each pole on a mandrel, a long, tapered metal cylinder.

Workers first lubricate the surface.

Then they take what's called a fiberglass filament, a string composed of 2,200 tiny fiberglass strands.

They'll wind dozens of filaments around the mandrel to create the pole, but first, the filaments go through a bath of epoxy resin.

This resin is moldable and, once it's heat-cured, maintains its shape.

Once the filaments come out of the bath, a machine called a filament winder wraps them around the rotating mandrel.

The speed of rotation in relation to the speed of the winder is critical because it dictates the angles of the fibers.

The lower the angle, the more that part of the pole will be able to withstand the wind and provide constant, stable lighting.

When a pole bends in the wind, the light appears to flicker.

The number of filament layers depends on the design of each specific pole, and that's determined by a couple of factors.

First, the type of light fixture the pole will hold-- the bigger the fixture, the stiffer the pole has to be.

The other factor is wind.

The windier the location, the stronger the pole has to be.

Once the winding's done, the mandrel moves on to the curing station.

They pump pressurized steam into the hollow inside of the mandrel.

The heat kick-starts the hardener in the epoxy resin.

This solidifies the resin and cures it.

The mandrel rotates so that the pole cures evenly.

Curing time depends on the length of the pole and how many filaments it's made of.

To help extract the pole, they pump cold water through the mandrel.

This makes the steel mandrel contract, loosening the pole.

Remember how workers lubricated the surface of the mandrel before winding the filaments?

Because of that, the pole just slides off.

The pole now moves on to the finishing stages.

First, an automated sander works the surface.

The customer can order from a choice of surface textures, from smooth to rough.

Sanding takes just a few minutes.

Now a saw makes a neat cut at the top of the pole where the metal tenon will go.

A tenon is the component that'll hold the light fixture to the pole.

This particular model has an arched mounting arm.

The composite has cooled a bit since curing, so they reheat it to make it flexible.

After a bending machine makes the curve, they spray cold water inside to cool the material.

This registers the curve in the resin's memory, setting the bent shape.

Now they cut out the hand hole, the opening through which the electrician will connect the underground wire to the fixture wiring.

Workers then spray the pole with urethane paint.

The paint acts like sunscreen, protecting the composite from damaging ultraviolet rays.

This grommet hole will connect to the underground pipe that contains the electrical wires.

After installing a cover over the hand hole, it's time to assemble the parts-- the underground pipe to the pole...

And the pole to the tenon and light fixture.

Many products have rounded components made of solid hardwood.

Often, the companies that make these products hire factories that specialize in wood-bending to prepare these components for them.

Bending wood may sound simple, but it isn't.

It takes a lot of preparation and skill to bend wood without cracking it.

The best type of wood to bend is hardwood.

Its fibers react better to heat and moisture than softwood fibers do and, therefore, curve nicely.

If you bend softwood, it wrinkles.

The wood first goes into an outdoor dryer to bring its humidity level down to between 15% and 20%.

This prevents the wood from expanding and contracting after it's bent.

This air-drying process takes up to a week.

Once the wood is dry, a powerful trimmer saws the pieces to the required length, an edger to the required width.

Now that the wood pieces are the right dimensions, they go into what's called a steaming box.

This superficially rehumidifies them so that they become somewhat flexible.

This takes from 10 to 45 minutes, depending on the type of wood and its thickness.

This humidity will later evaporate out of the wood.

Now the pieces go into a press, sandwiched between two forms in the shape of the curve to be made.

The press applies both pressure and heat-- pressure to bend the wood, heat generated by a high-voltage electric current to cure it, setting the new shape.

How long the pieces stay in the press depends again on the species and dimensions.

Generally, it takes from 20 minutes to an hour.

Making this particular type of curve is called crown bending.

Workers measure each piece against the template to ensure the curve is just right.

The factory uses the same process to bend these pieces into a different shape.

It's critical to use just the right amount of heat and pressure-- too high a temperature would burn the wood.

Too much force would crack it.

These straight pieces of wood will become the rounded backs of windsor-style chairs, which is why this type of bending is called windsor bending.

Workers humidify the wood in the steaming box but will shape the pieces using a pressure-only process.

They mount what's called a bending mold onto a hydraulic press.

This machine uses just pressure to bend the wood around the mold.

No heat this time to immediately set the shape.

Instead, once the press curves the pieces, workers hook up a chain to temporarily hold the shape.

Then they transfer the bent pieces to a heated indoor dryer.

The drying process takes between two days and two weeks, depending, as before, on the type of wood and the dimensions.

Once the wood dries out, the curve is permanent.

There are many wooden products that require bent components-- this wheel for a horse-drawn carriage, for example.

Back to the windsor chairs, now.

A dowel machine rounds off the bent pieces.

Before shipping the pieces out, workers run them through a sander.

This prepares them for the furniture factories, who will varnish or stain them.

Upon receiving these chairbacks, the furniture factories will assembled them to the straight parts of the windsor chairs.

The term "membrane switches" probably means nothing to you, but chances are you use them or at least see them in use daily.

Membrane switches are those soft touch-pad buttons on the controls of many electrical and electronic devices-- for example, the buttons on a microwave oven or on a cash register.

The surface of the appliance's control panel is called the graphic overlay.

It's a sheet of plastic on which they print the design of the control buttons.

Each button has a membrane switch underneath it.

To make this graphic overlay, they first laser-print a sheet of acetate film with the design--  as many copies as will fit.

They lay the film on a polyester screen coated with a light-sensitive chemical.

Then, using this machine, they expose the screen to 2,000 watts of ultraviolet light for up to six minutes.

The light hardens the chemical on the parts of the screen that aren't shielded by the design on the acetate.

This blocks the screen's minute holes everywhere except in the design.

Workers remove the acetate film and rinse off the shielded chemical that didn't harden.

Now they have a screen stencil of the design they're going to print.

Workers dry off the screen and install it on a printing press.

A squeegee drags the ink across the screen, pushing it down through the open holes, printing the design onto the overlay plastic.

Ultraviolet lamps cure the ink in a matter of seconds.

Each color of the design goes on separately.

That means that there isn't one printing screen for the entire graphic overlay, but rather a separate screen for each color.

Meanwhile, on another screen printing press, they print the circuitry layout onto transparent plastic.

The ink contains silver, which conducts electricity.

This circuitry layout will go behind the graphic overlay.

Again, they print several at a time.

Once the printing's done, it's time to assemble the layers that make up the membrane switch.

First, the circuit layer goes onto an adhesive sheet.

A roller insures a solid, airtight bond.

This spacer sheet will separate the overlay and circuit layer to prevent contact between the two from being continuous.

Over each circuit goes a dome made of nickel-plated stainless steel.

This forms an electrical contact over the circuit that must be forcibly pressed in order to activate the circuit.

They adhere a polyester sheet to hold the domes in place for now.

After cutting out each circuitry layout and each graphic overlay, they expose the adhesive backing on the overlay and stick it to the circuit layer.

The membrane switches are now complete.

This control panel is for a hospital bed.

Some membrane switches have a light-emitting diode, or l.e.d., a tiny colored light that goes on when you press the switch to confirm contact.

The factory's robotic machines deposit two drops of epoxy paste on the circuit layer wherever an l.e.d. will go.

The paste contains silver--  again, to conduct the current.

A robot then picks up the l.e.d.s and deposits them on the drops of paste.

The robot then puts a dome on each circuit, creating an electrical contact.

The red light you see is a camera checking the positioning.

Testing equipment runs a current through the circuitry to make sure that everything works.

Then a drop of transparent sealant goes over each l.e.d. the sealant hardens under ultraviolet light, holding everything solidly in place.

Now workers remove the panel from the automated line and plug it in.

Lighting up all the l.e.d.s helps them position the graphic overlay properly.

This control panel is for a wall oven.

No l.e.d.s on this model.

And instead of a dome behind each button, they print an electrical contact using the same conductive silver ink they use to print all the circuitry.

After rolling on the graphic overlay, they peel off the protective plastic, then flip the control panel upside down and snap it into its cover.