Used these for building a dock box our of solid IPE wood. They look beautiful and are well built. A substantial svaings from west marine.

They are heavy duty enough to hold up my stall doors that are made of rough cut lumber.

In the bustling city of Shizukuishi, nestled in the Iwate Prefecture of Japan, there existed a watchmaking factory that was renowned across the world for its craftsmanship. This was the Grand Seiko Watch Studio, a place where timepieces were not just created but meticulously crafted to perfection. Among the many artisans who dedicated their lives to this intricate art was Hiroshi Takeda, a master watchmaker whose specialty lay in the ancient and revered art of Zaratsu polishing.Hiroshi was a man of quiet determination, his hands steady and eyes sharp despite his advancing age. He had spent over four decades perfecting his craft, and his skills were unparalleled. The Zaratsu polishing technique, a hallmark of Grand Seiko watches, was both an art and a science. This technique, developed from the traditional sword polishing methods of the Samurai era, was known for creating mirror-like surfaces that reflected light with a flawless brilliance.Every morning, Hiroshi would enter his workshop, the scent of metal and oil greeting him like an old friend. His tools, meticulously arranged, included a rotating disc made of tin, polishing agents, and an assortment of soft cloths and brushes. The room was quiet, save for the gentle hum of the polishing wheel. He donned his magnifying glasses, and under the bright lamps, he would begin his work.The Zaratsu polishing process demanded absolute precision and patience. Hiroshi would start with the base material, typically stainless steel or high-grade titanium. Holding the case against the rotating disc, he would carefully apply pressure, ensuring that every angle and curve of the watch case received equal attention. Unlike conventional polishing, which could be performed by machines, Zaratsu polishing was a manual process. The artisan had to control the angle and pressure meticulously to avoid creating any uneven surfaces or lines.As the metal met the rotating disc, Hiroshi's experienced hands guided it with an almost meditative calm. The contact had to be just right; too much pressure and the metal would be marred, too little and it would not achieve the desired shine. The process was repeated several times, with different polishing agents and varying pressures, until the surface of the watch case became a perfect mirror, free of distortions.This painstaking process took hours, sometimes even days, to complete a single watch case. But Hiroshi never rushed. He understood that each watch was a piece of art, a testament to the Grand Seiko philosophy of precision and beauty. The Zaratsu technique was not just about creating a visually stunning watch but also about achieving a harmony of design, where every reflection and glint of light spoke of the care and skill invested in its making.The difficulty of Zaratsu polishing lay not just in the physical demands but also in the mental discipline required. It was a dance of balance, where the artisan's touch needed to be both firm and gentle. Any lapse in concentration could result in a flaw, a single imperfection that would render the watch case unsuitable for the final product. Hiroshi's deep respect for his craft was evident in the care he took with each piece, treating each one as a unique entity deserving of his utmost attention.Over the years, Hiroshi had trained many apprentices, passing on the secrets of Zaratsu polishing. He taught them not just the techniques but also the philosophy behind it – a blend of patience, dedication, and an unyielding pursuit of perfection. As they watched him work, they realized that Zaratsu polishing was not just about polishing metal; it was about polishing one's soul, honing it to reflect the beauty and precision of the world around them.One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Hiroshi completed yet another watch case. He held it up to the light, watching the way it captured and reflected the colors of the setting sun. In that moment, he saw not just a piece of metal but a culmination of years of tradition, skill, and an unwavering commitment to excellence. It was a reflection of his life's work, a legacy that would endure long after the last light had faded from the sky.As dusk settled over Shizukuishi, Hiroshi Takeda carefully placed the newly polished watch case in a protective cloth and set it aside. He meticulously cleaned his workspace, arranging his tools with the same precision he applied to his craft. With a final glance around the workshop, he switched off the lights and locked the door behind him, stepping out into the cool evening air.Hiroshi’s home was a modest, traditional Japanese house located a short walk from the Grand Seiko Watch Studio. The path took him through narrow, winding streets lined with cherry blossom trees, their delicate petals fluttering in the breeze. As he walked, the familiar sights and sounds of his neighborhood offered a comforting sense of routine and tranquility.Upon arriving home, Hiroshi was greeted by his wife, Yumi, who had prepared a simple yet delicious dinner of grilled fish, miso soup, and rice. They shared a quiet meal, discussing their day and enjoying each other's company. Despite his intense focus at work, Hiroshi always found these moments with Yumi to be the most cherished part of his day.After dinner, while most people might relax and unwind, Hiroshi’s passion for polishing extended beyond his professional life. In a small corner of his home, he had set up a secondary workshop, where he indulged in a rather unusual hobby: polishing stainless steel hinges. These hinges, which he sold on Amazon, had gained a reputation for their extraordinary finish, making them popular among DIY enthusiasts and home improvement aficionados.Hiroshi's secondary workshop was a humble space, equipped with a smaller version of the polishing wheel he used at the factory, along with a variety of polishing compounds and cloths. To many, it might seem odd that a master watchmaker would spend his spare time polishing mundane objects like hinges, but for Hiroshi, it was a form of relaxation and personal satisfaction.Each evening, he would select a few hinges from a box and begin the process of transforming them. He approached the task with the same meticulous care and precision that he applied to watchmaking. Holding a hinge against the wheel, he allowed the rhythmic motion to soothe his mind, the familiar hum of the machine a backdrop to his thoughts.Polishing hinges required a different technique compared to watch cases. The hinges had more intricate shapes and angles, making the process more challenging in its own way. Hiroshi enjoyed this challenge, finding a certain meditative quality in navigating the complex contours and ensuring each hinge achieved a mirror-like finish. The final result was not just a functional piece of hardware but a small work of art, reflecting his dedication and skill.As he worked, Hiroshi often thought about the people who would purchase these hinges. He imagined them opening packages and being surprised by the exceptional quality, perhaps wondering who had taken the time to polish them to such perfection. It brought him a quiet joy to know that his craftsmanship could bring a touch of beauty into everyday lives, even in such a small way.By the time he finished for the night, the hinges gleamed under the workshop lights, ready to be packed and shipped to customers around the world. Hiroshi cleaned his tools, washed his hands, and joined Yumi in the living room for a cup of green tea before bed. As they sat together, he felt a deep sense of contentment. Whether crafting luxury timepieces or polishing humble hinges, Hiroshi’s life was a testament to the enduring value of dedication, craftsmanship, and the pursuit of perfection in all things.

My test of a product is: "'Would I buy it again?" YES, YES AND YES. they are perfect in every respect. Highly polished on the viewing side. Stainless screws included.

This product is marketed for, among other things, marine use. 300-series stainless steel is not magnetic. Stainless steel is stainless because of its ingredients / composition, and because of what it was subjected to when it was made. Even if proper stainless steel is used in making a product, working it (that is, pounding, machining it) during manufacture can change its characteristics. An annealing step is needed to restore original properties. These hinges are highly, highly magnetic. That's a no-no for stainless steel in a corrosive environment. It seems someone cut corners in the manufacture of these hinges. On the other hand, the included screws, which certainly underwent intense manufacturing processes, are inert to a magnet (which demonstrates proper manufacturing that retains the stainless nature can be accomplished). The hinges themselves look good, they have a nice finish, and operate well enough. The included screws have heads that fill the mounting holes in the hinges well, making for a flush finish. But the hinges are sub-par for marine use and should not be described as 316 stainless steel, a description that's present at the time of this review. If excellent corrosion resistance is not your primary concern, you will be well satisfied with these hinges. But if you're considering an installation in a corrosive environment, such as near salt water, maybe you'd prefer something else.