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Max Michael
 For a relatively young instrument my Octave Mandolin has had an interesting history. It all started on a dark, wet and windy night when I tripped and dropped the recently glued and thicknessed back and top; breaking both.
Next day the TAFE College in Albany was abuzz with the news I had fallen and broken both my back and neck!
Fortunately Maurice (our woodworking wizard) was able to reassemble the broken pieces, dusted me off and put me back on the path to finishing the project before Christmas.
Over time my impatience overruled common sense in my quest to finish until finally the day arrived when I could string the instrument and reap just deserved rewards.
It sounded terrible, looked terrible and was nearly impossible to play. Christmas came and went, the new TAFE year started and the mandola was in the woodbox awaiting its fiery end when once again I was persuaded to get on with it and finish the bloody thing.
Fifteen layers of brush painted varnish was stripped and recoated, the neck was reshaped and a new bridge made, resulting in what is displayed here - my favourite and most treasured possession.
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