There’s something deeply satisfying about a lidded box that fits together with a clean pop. It’s the kind of project that sits on a shelf and invites people to pick it up, twist the lid off, and put it back on again. If you’ve got a few bowls under your belt and you’re comfortable with basic spindle and faceplate work, a lidded box is a brilliant next step.

Choosing Your Timber

For a first lidded box, I’d recommend something stable and forgiving. Camphor laurel is a personal favourite — it smells incredible on the lathe, turns cleanly, and has gorgeous figure. Sheoak is another solid choice if you want something with a bit of visual drama. Avoid anything too punky or spalted for your first attempt, because you need clean surfaces for the lid to seat properly.

Cut your blank slightly oversize. For a box about 60mm tall and 70mm in diameter, start with a piece roughly 80mm by 80mm by 100mm. You want enough material to part off the lid section and still have room to work the body.

Mounting and Roughing

Mount the blank between centres first and rough it down to a cylinder. Once you’ve got a clean cylinder, turn a tenon on one end to fit your scroll chuck. I run my tenons at about 50mm diameter for a standard 50mm jaw set, with a slight dovetail to match the jaw profile.

Flip the piece into the chuck with the tenon gripped, and true up the end face. This end will become the top of your lid, so take light cuts and get it flat.

Parting Off the Lid

Mark a line about 20-25mm from the face — this will be your lid depth. Use a thin parting tool to separate the lid from the body. Don’t part all the way through; leave about 3mm and snap it off by hand, then clean up the face.

Now you’ve got two pieces: the body still in the chuck, and the lid section sitting on your bench.

Hollowing the Body

Start hollowing the body. I use a spindle gouge for the initial opening, then switch to a round-nose scraper for the internal walls. Take your time here. The internal diameter needs to be consistent for at least 10-12mm down from the rim — this is where your lid will seat.

Measure the internal diameter carefully. I use spring callipers set to the bore and check frequently. Aim for walls about 4-5mm thick on a box this size. Too thin and you risk a catch blowing through; too thick and it feels clunky.

Fitting the Lid

Here’s where the magic happens. Mount the lid piece in the chuck (you’ll need to turn a small tenon on the cut face first, or use a jam chuck). Now turn the spigot — the part that fits inside the body — to match the internal bore of the body.

Sneak up on the fit. Turn a fraction, test the fit, turn a fraction more. You want friction fit, not force fit. The lid should pop on and off with gentle pressure. If you overshoot, you can sometimes rescue it with a thin shaving of tissue paper inside the bore, but it’s better to get it right.

Once the spigot fits, hollow out the inside of the lid if you want internal storage space, then shape the outside profile. A gentle dome or a slight concave dish both look good. Add a small finial or a flat knob on top for a finger grip.

Finishing the Base

With the lid fitting nicely, go back to the body. Shape the outside profile to complement the lid. Undercut the base slightly so it sits flat without rocking.

For the bottom, you’ll need to reverse the piece. I use a jam chuck — a waste block turned to fit snugly inside the box opening. Press the body onto the jam chuck, bring up the tailstock for support, and turn away the tenon. Sand through the grits while it’s spinning: 120, 180, 240, 320.

Finish and Final Thoughts

For a lidded box, I like a friction polish or shellac-based finish. It dries fast on the lathe and gives a nice sheen without building up in the joint area. Avoid thick film finishes around the lid seating surface — they’ll make the fit sloppy over time as they cure.

A well-made lidded box is one of those projects that teaches you precision without being fussy about design. Every one I’ve made has been slightly different, and every one has taught me something about reading the wood and trusting my tools.

If you’re in Sydney and want to give it a go, most of the local woodturning clubs run regular demonstration nights where experienced turners walk through projects like this. It’s a great way to see the technique in person before you commit timber to the lathe.

Give it a crack — once you’ve made one, you’ll want to make a dozen.