Gravity then takes over
Posted: Sat Jul 12, 2025 5:45 am
A piece of brass shaped like a tiny Vesuvius which is also separately soldered onto the instrument and then drilled through into the pipe - usually, although seldom in the case of one British manufacturer, at a low point on the bend.
A spring, shaped like a convoluted mediaeval torture device bisects the key, its points pressing against the carriage keeping the cork filled cup at the end of the lever firmly - or it should do - airtight over the Vesuvius.
As the water (saliva), beer, tea (tea?) in the instrument seeks the low point, inside the pipe and into the volcano, it awaits the player's decision to press the lever and release the liquid. This is usually preceded by burbling noises, especially email database on low notes due to the partial parting of the cork from the volcano. Even when open, the cork still partially covers the hole, and when the player blows through the instrument to clear it, the water hits the cork, its owner and his colleagues simultaneously. Ironically, there's no discrimination. The amateur player gets just as wet as the virtuoso.
From a manufacturer's point of view, constructing and fitting a water key is just a nuisance. Levers, carriages, castings, electro-plating, screws, cork, aligning the device with two reference points onto the instrument, fitting the spring... And springs have lives of their own. On Monday mornings their pointed ends stick into fingers. Trombone springs nearly always attack first. They're much stronger and have no morals.
A spring, shaped like a convoluted mediaeval torture device bisects the key, its points pressing against the carriage keeping the cork filled cup at the end of the lever firmly - or it should do - airtight over the Vesuvius.
As the water (saliva), beer, tea (tea?) in the instrument seeks the low point, inside the pipe and into the volcano, it awaits the player's decision to press the lever and release the liquid. This is usually preceded by burbling noises, especially email database on low notes due to the partial parting of the cork from the volcano. Even when open, the cork still partially covers the hole, and when the player blows through the instrument to clear it, the water hits the cork, its owner and his colleagues simultaneously. Ironically, there's no discrimination. The amateur player gets just as wet as the virtuoso.
From a manufacturer's point of view, constructing and fitting a water key is just a nuisance. Levers, carriages, castings, electro-plating, screws, cork, aligning the device with two reference points onto the instrument, fitting the spring... And springs have lives of their own. On Monday mornings their pointed ends stick into fingers. Trombone springs nearly always attack first. They're much stronger and have no morals.