In order, we have:

• Diamine Grey. Slightly water-resistant, in that it is visible afterwards and almost readable, but not pretty.

• Sailor Sei-Boku – the greenish blue “nanocarbon” Sailor ink. As befits an ink by a company called “Sailor” this ink remains identical no matter how much it is dunked into water. Sei-Boku is termed “archival quality” so really should be able to cope with being dunked in a sink.

• Waterman South Seas Blue, which is really a turquoise. Here we see the difference between a sailor and the sea. South Seas Blue, when exposed to water, is overjoyed and leaps off the page in ecstasy, to join its brother and sister molecules.

• A black Sharpie marker which I happened to have lying around. No nonsense here. Water? Why should it care about water? Try bleach or napalm to erase this sort of thing.

• Diamine Monaco Red which surprised me a little (though Diamine inks are not noted for water resistance generally). Monaco Red just vanishes with barely a trace. I’ll grant that that example of Monaco Red was likely contaminated with a lot of J Herbin Rouge Caroubier, since it normally dries to a brownish “there’s been a murder sir” colour, but even so… evidence has been eradicated.

• And then I had run out of inked pens so decided to try a pencil, specifically a 3B lead in a Caran d’Ache clutch pencil. Pencils have something of a reputation (in my mind anyway) for being impermanent, given that they can be erased with a piece of rubber, but graphite particles embedded into the surface layer of paper are apparently entirely non-bothered by the presence of water.

So. I have picked one ink – Waterman Black, a reliable and fast-drying ink, good for all sorts of paper – and I am planning to use that for the next… well, I had originally thought “month” but that might be a bit too long. Fortnight, let’s say. I have loaded all of my normal pens with it, apart from the Kaweco Sport that I have loaded with red and use to make corrections and annotations after the fact (this does not count; this piece of asceticism is only for writing pens). The idea is that I will concentrate more on the actual writing. Let’s see how effective this actually is, in practice.

It’s an absurd-looking pen, but has a certain charm if you like that sort of thing. The cap is immense – the photos really don’t do it justice – and the clip on it is bizarrely huge as well. (I bought one with green trim, but it is available in a number of colours.) The body is a translucent black plastic which shows the cartridge or convertor. It is overall lighter in weight than one might think, though, yet it’s solid in construction – it doesn’t feel cheap or flimsy at all.

The grip is rubbery and deliberately contoured to encourage a particular sort of hold. There is a flattened dip on the top right for one’s index finger, and underneath, a shallower but wider flattened part for the middle finger. Some people hate this sort of thing but it fits in quite well with how I hold pens. The grip, the weight and the generous but not excessive width lead me to think it would be a good writer for extended periods.

This model has a medium nib, which is a “European” medium i.e. fairly broad, and is also slightly italic. It is pleasantly smooth on the paper and ink flows well, or at least it does now. Originally when first filling it the thing had trouble starting and was writing quite dryly. “Oh gawd,” I thought, “another fifteen quid wasted on a pen I’ll never use,” but being sensible I gave it a good flush and a soak for an extended period with a little washing-up liquid to clean out any gunk from factory or storage or malicious pen pixies, and now it seems fine, at least with Waterman Florida Blue which is what I have in it at the moment.

The iD takes standard international cartridges, and has space for the usual two back to back inside. I ordered a Tombow convertor at the same time for use with bottled ink and this seems effective, in fact a pretty good convertor all told, with a good seal and no air getting in.

Overall, I am happy with this pen. It has a fatter nib than I normally prefer, but it is a nice comfortable writer, and if I didn’t need a rounded fine nib to write in my usual appalling spider scrawl (being fairer to myself here, I also draw bubbles and arrows and diagrams a lot, and a broadish italic nib is not good for that purpose) I could see myself using it regularly. Somebody looking for a relatively inexpensive and comfortable pen for long periods of writing – exams, theses – might find it pretty ideal. Do flush it out first though.

Additional information (Tuesday 27 July 2010)

Having used the iD for a while now, I have noticed a peculiarity – it takes forever to clear ink out of it. I don’t know where it’s hiding it all, but whereas most pens will run fairly clear after a few fillings and ejections of water with a convertor, the iD keep pumping out the ink for ages.

This is a little annoying if you change inks as frequently as I tend to, but for most people it is probably an advantage of sorts, as if one sees an empty cartridge or convertor there’s likely still quite a bit of writing left in the thing, giving one time to find a refill.

Being the son of a current IBMer I have had many of these pads and grew up jotting down all kinds of memos on them *old computer punch-cards as well.

via The Original IBM ThinkPad « A Continuous Lean..