Owner Review:

Svea 123R White Gas Stove

Date: May 4th, 2004

Reviewer Information:

Name: Jim Sabiston
Age: 50
Gender: Male
Height: 6' 3" (1.9 m)
Weight: 207 lb (94 kg)
Email address: JimSabis(at)aol(dot)com
State: New York
Country: USA

Backpacking Background:

I've been camping for several decades. I joined the Adirondack Mountain Club five years ago, the Appalachian Mountain Club a year later and am active in both. I have also expanded my backpacking to include more winter trips, mountaineering and backcountry cross country skiing, and participated in the AMC's Winter Mountaineering training program with Chauvin International Climbing Guides. More recently, I have actively studied ways to backpack lighter and more efficiently. During the summer months, my style tends toward very light, but not quite ultralight. I use a hammock or tarp for warm weather, and a small four-season tent for winter trips. Most of my other gear is very changeable, as I am constantly experimenting with gear and techniques.

Product Information:

Manufacturer: Optimus International
Year Manufactured: 1975 (approximately)
Manufacturer's URL: www.optimus.se
Note: The stove is currently distributed by Brunton (www.brunton.com)
Stove Specifications:
Fuel:                White Gasoline
Weight:           1 lb 3 oz (550 g)
Dimensions:    3.9 in diameter X 5.1 in high (100 mm diameter X 130 mm high)
Output:            4,700 BTU
Integral Fuel Tank Capacity:  (.12 L)
MSRP:            $80 US (Brunton)

Specifications as measured match the Manufacturers exactly!

The Svea 123R:

Let me get one thing out of the way before I get into the body of this report: This is a love story. My Svea 123R and I have been together for about twenty five years. The relationship long ago reached that point where the thrill of something fresh and new was gradually replaced by the warm, fuzzy comfort that comes with well worn experience, reliability and trust. A model relationship. A good fit.

I don't recall precisely where or when we first met. It was a long time ago, after all. Many other gear relationships have faded to a vague memory in the time I have shared with my little Svea. Come to think of it, there was even a marriage in there somewhere. Yet, here we are, still spending our time together after all these years. Sure, my eye occasionally wanders to one of those lightweight little trollops that frequent the outfitter's stove shelves these days, but I know deep down that my little Svea will be ready to warm my bones when really needed.

Let me start at the beginning...

The story goes that the Svea 123R design goes back just over a hundred years. The fact that the basic design continues in production to this day says something about the soundness of the original concept and the ongoing quality of construction. It was supposedly intended as an alpine stove and it certainly excels in this application. A close examination does little to dispel the impression that this design has been around for awhile.

The most obvious characteristic is that the stove is made of brass. Not light, but transient, aluminum. Not sturdy, but plebian, stainless steel. Not even high tech, but arrogant, titanium. The Svea is made of shiny, golden Brass. The wonder metal of the 'good olde days'. And polished brass at that. When I first met the Svea 123R, I was more inclined to place it on the mantle, above the hallowed fireplace, where all could admire the high point of function and gleaming beauty that had been given form.

 
Fig. 1 and fig. 2: Two Svea 123Rs, the Svea on the left in both photos is 25+ years old, the Svea on the right is ‘just-out-of-the-box’ new.

The Svea 123R is a model of efficient design. All the little bits needed to cook a (small) meal or a cup of something hot, except perhaps an eating utensil and fuel, is contained in this tidy package. The body of the stove consists of two primary parts, the fuel tank/burner and a removable windscreen. The token nod given to an attempt at keeping the weight down is the aluminum cup which slides ever so neatly over the top of the brass windscreen.

Cleverly stored inside the attractive face presented by the windscreen are two necessary functional bits, the galvanized steel stove valve key and a small aluminum handle for the aluminum cup. These slide easily, if a bit loosely, into designated slots within the windscreen. The stove key is also a combination tool and is the only tool required to rebuild the stove.

The stove itself is the simplest of designs. Removing the windscreen reveals the burner assembly. A flame deflector, which resembles an inverted bell, is screwed directly to the valve/burner body which, in turn, is screwed into the fuel tank. It is all laid out in the open, very simple and obvious. The fuel tank is adorned only by a small filler cap which sports a pressure relief valve. The control valve is operated by the small galvanized steel key that slips easily over the square valve stem. The stem rotates a brass gear inside the upright burner tube that raises, or lowers, a needle valve shaft into the burner jet, a small brass fitting screwed into the top of the burner tube. The stove has exactly two moving parts, the valve stem and the needle valve shaft. Somewhere, back in the cold mists of time, the Svea 123R received its one improvement: a small bit of wire was added to the top of the needle valve shaft. This means that the burner jet would be automatically cleaned every time the valve was closed.


Fig. 3: Close up look at the Svea 123R burner, fuel tank, safety valve assembly. Note the attached valve key which doubles as a wrench for field maintenance. Also note the priming dish where the burner assembly meets the fuel tank.

The windscreen slides over the burner assembly and the fit is quite snug. There are three small 'turn and lock' style grooves in the base of the windscreen that are intended to fit over three matching bumps on the fuel tank. The valve stem is intended to line up with one of the holes in the windscreen, allowing one to insert the valve key to operate the stove. Care must be taken to make sure that the windscreen and burner body are aligned correctly or the valve stem can be blocked by the windscreen.

The valve key has a small bit of chain attached to it, ostensibly to connect it to the stove to prevent loss. However, I've never been able to locate an attachment point that didn't interfere with the operation of the stove somehow. The valve key and cup handle fit loosely into two holes on a deck plate inside the windscreen. The aluminum cup slides over the whole affair and prevents the key and handle from falling out. The aluminum cup does not secure to the windscreen. There are three short 'L' shaped legs attached to the top of the windscreen. These act as the pot stands, and rotate inward or outward as needed to accommodate a larger cook pot or to swing out of the way when stowing the aluminum cup.

There you have it. A well thought out and appealing little package.

Living with Svea:

It is generally known that, in the world of long term romances, an incendiary personality can add a certain spark to the relationship. I am no longer fooled by the Svea's aged and weathered looks. What this stove may lack in comparison to the modern competition in sleek looks is more than made up in exciting behavior. The Svea has a real flare for the dramatic, 'flare' being the operative word here.

The stove is ignited with an external prime. Close examination of the point where the burner tube meets the fuel tank will indicate a small dished out area. The creators of the Svea apparently intended that this small divot to be filled with fuel and ignited, thus heating the fuel tank, which would heat, vaporize and pressurize the fuel. The vaporized fuel would then be forced up to the burner jet where, if the operator was really good with their timing, they would open the valve at the precise moment that the stove pressurized and priming fuel sent its last lick of flame over the burner jet, thus igniting the stove. Sounds simple enough, right? Now let's go the point where reality meets theory in a headlong collision.

White gas is not known for its quiescent behavior, even before it has been lit. Any attempt to pour a tiny amount of priming fuel into that silly little dish, AND KEEPING IT THERE, will be an exercise in ultimate frustration. It seems the fuel wants to be everywhere except that little dent. Before one knows it, the fuel has flowed uphill over the edge of the dish and all over the stove, hands, clothing, lean-to floor, well, you get the picture. If I was unfortunate enough to not notice this little detail before putting a match to the prime, I was invariably informed the moment the prime was ignited, as was everyone else in the immediate vicinity. The immediate vicinity in this case would refer to anyone within the Adirondack State Park boundary. Furthermore, there is no way to perform such a delicate operation with the windscreen installed. If one were, through some miracle I have yet to witness, actually able to fill the prime bowl without bathing in the fuel, there remains the matter of installing the windscreen either before the fuel evaporates or, more likely, spilling it.

 Another option is to light the prime before replacing the windscreen. This can be very effective, but requires finesse, speed and cunning, as the windscreen must then be installed over the burning jet. These attributes are not always readily available at the end of a long day outdoors hiking, climbing or skiing. They are also often lacking when that same stalwart arises in the morning to cook breakfast. Remember, the stove has to be lit BEFORE the coffee can be made! The result has been singed gloves and fingers on many occasions. To make things even more interesting, the colder the weather, the larger the prime required to get the Svea fired up (so to speak). Winter camping requires a very, shall I say, generous amount of fuel for a proper prime. There is a fringe benefit to this, however. The resulting pyrotechnics guarantees me plenty of room in the lean-to. The down side is that this is an outdoor only stove. The few times I have been forced to cook in my vestibule due to foul weather, I still primed the stove outside, them moved it inside once it settled down.

Over the years, I learned two priming techniques which are superior to the traditional method. The first entails the use of a petroleum based fire starter gel. The gel can be easily controlled and I am able to apply as much as needed to get the stove going right on the burner tube and in the small fuel indent. The gel fire-starter is clearly the most desirable from a strict priming standpoint. There are two drawbacks, however. The first is that the gel leaves an ash residue which will turn the stove into a bit of a mess after a few applications. The second is that the starter gel comes in a squeezable metal tube. This is necessary as the petroleum based gel acts as a plastics solvent. Unfortunately, the metal tube eventually develops fatigue cracks and leaks. I have tried packing the tube in various plastics over the years, but the gel has inevitably dissolved all of them. It can make a heck of a mess inside a pack. If not for this latter point, I would use the gel almost exclusively.

The second method involves a slight modification to the stove, more of an addition in actuality. I took some very light fiberglass cloth tape, left over from a kayak build, and carefully wrapped it around the burner tube. I covered the entire tube with about two layers of the tape. The tape is held in place with a light wire - not resin! This has made a great difference in the priming process. The fiberglass acts as a wicking agent and holds the priming fuel where it does the most good and holds more of it. It doesn't eliminate all the pyrotechnics, but I wouldn't want to rid myself of all the excitement inherent in using this stove. The best part is that it allows me to prime the stove and install the windscreen before lighting it. Singed clothing and body parts are (almost) a thing of the past. And, if I feel my space in the lean-to is being encroached upon, I always have the option of adding a little 'extra' priming fuel!

The fuel tank holds a reasonable amount of fuel, enough for about 45 to 60 minutes of burn time. This will easily last a typical warm weather weekend or longer, depending on one's cooking needs. I have found that the needle valve does not close tight enough to fully seal the tank. Accordingly, I store the stove in an upright position on the outside of my pack. As a precaution, I also attach extra fuel bottles on the outside of my pack.

One of the most notable characteristics of the Svea 123R is the sound that it emits once ignited. Think of a Boeing 747 passenger liner landing. On your head. The Svea is by all accounts, well, pretty darn loud. It really does sound like a jet engine on afterburners. Personally, over the years I have become accustomed to this, as I now associate this sound, in the best Pavlovian tradition, with hot meals on cold days. The Svea is certainly not a 'stealth' stove. Anyone accustomed to the discreet habits of an alcohol stove would almost certainly be horrified at the commotion raised by a Svea in full roar.

Cooking with the Svea 123R:

Believe it or not, the Svea is a good cooking stove and capable of far more than burning water. Once fully heated and pressurized, the stove can be throttled down to a respectable simmer. The stove burns so hot that I find the majority of my cooking is actually done a few notches above a simmer.


Fig. 4: The Svea 123R set up and ready to cook. Note the aluminum pot/cup handle in the foreground.

I recall a recent winter bushwhack when the group set up camp on the last available flat ledge in fading daylight, some distance short of our planned goal. After pitching our respective shelters, we settled down to cook our dinners. The Svea was humming along before the other stoves were even assembled. My dinner was ready before their water was boiling. Everyone was very impressed by the simplicity and efficiency of the 'antique'! They were especially enamored of the fact that no pumping was required.

The stove is quite stable, especially when using a smaller pot such as an MSR Titan Kettle. I have used larger pots, but as with most stoves, this requires a little thought beforehand to select a nice level location. On snow, it pays to have an insulated platform under the stove, both to prevent the stove base from melting into the snow (which it WILL do) and to prevent heat loss in the fuel tank. The latter, in extreme cold, can cause loss of pressurization in the fuel tank, causing the stove to extinguish.

One of the Svea's great strong points is melting snow for drinking and cooking water. Lots of BTUs and a decent burn time allow one to crank out water pretty quickly. This is a fairly fuel intensive exercise, but I find that a quart bottle of white gas will get me through a four day winter backpack with fuel to spare. Official caveat: depending on the temperature and your cooking habits, your mileage may differ.

Maintenance:

One might assume that a stove with such a lively personality would also be 'high maintenance'. Fortunately, the Svea is anything but. The only attention required is that the needle valve be backed open slightly before long term storage. The only field failure experienced with my Svea occurred when I had stored the stove for several months and then packed it up for a winter trip. On the first attempt to light the stove, the needle valve broke off in the burner jet, where it had corroded into place. This required replacement of the needle valve and burner jet. Now I store the stove with the valve slightly open, so the needle makes no contact with the burner jet.

The above problem was easily rectified with a standard rebuild kit. This kit supplies all the parts necessary to completely rebuild the stove, including all valve parts and gaskets. As of this writing it is readily available for price of about $15 US. I find the stove benefits from a rebuild every five to eight years or so. I used the Svea for nearly 15 years before its first rebuild.

Summary:

The Svea 123R has been around longer than any other backpacking stove and has a bit of a cult following, and for good reason. The stove’s simplicity, reliability and strong heat output really make it highly desirable, especially in cold weather. When other stoves have given up, the Svea 123R is the stove most likely to deliver when the chips are down, and with a minimum of fuss. The priming excitement just adds to the stoves 'character'.

My love affair with this stove is such that I actually bought a new one, just in case something should happen to my 'old standby'. The 'new' model has no material differences from my old model that I can detect. It is very shiny, however. It will not see any field use until something happens to its predecessor.

If past experience is any indication, the new stove will remain unused for a very long time as the old flame just keeps on burning!