"The secret of carving is having a sharp, sharp instrument," says Victor Riolo of Cupertino, a club member since 1980.

It's one secret that woodcarvers are willing to share. "One of the most important things I tell beginners is: Learn how to sharpen your knife and keep it sharp," says Sunnyvale resident Al Furtado, who has been a serious carver for about 15 years. But he says he tries not to hurry because that's when he can slip and cut himself.

Both men had their work on display and in competition at the club's 36th annual Woodcarving Show, held April 12­13 at Prospect High School.

Founded in 1967, the Santa Clara Valley Carvers club was the original chapter of the California Carvers Guild, which is now 50 chapters and 3,000 members strong. Santa Clara Valley Carvers itself boasts about 100 members. The club meets weekly in Prospect's woodshop.

"They're very nice people," Riolo says of his fellow club members. "You won't meet any friendlier people than woodcarvers."

"You can always find someone willing to help beginners," Furtado says. "There's lots of knowledge within the club."

If carvers are a close-knit bunch, they are also generally a more mature crowd.

The club stages demonstrations at hardware stores and county fairs to attract new members. "We're all getting older, and we encourage young people to come in and take over," Riolo says.

"We don't see the younger generation coming in, but we're getting a lot more women in the club," Furtado says. According to the March issue of The Log, a publication of the California Carvers Guild, four of eight new Santa Clara Carvers club members are of the feminine persuasion.

While they share an affinity for a well-honed blade and good company to carve in, Furtado and Riolo have very different styles. Furtado sculpts lifelike birds, ducks and fish, often from scrap wood. He used patterns when he first started carving but now creates with a free hand. Painting his works is the most labor-intensive part of the process, particularly if he wants the barbs to stand out on each feather and the scales delineated on each fin. Feathers can also be burned onto the wood rather than painted. "A good carver will do 100 lines per inch," Furtado says. "I don't come close to that."

Modesty aside, Furtado's work has earned him several blue ribbons over the years. At last week's show, he won top honors for his carving of two geese on a pond.

Riolo—who was inspired to take up the craft after he saw the carved doors at the Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo—is not so much a sculptor as a relief man, etching detailed landscapes into wooden eggs. He buys the smaller "chicken eggs" that he carves but makes larger ones himself on a lathe. Depending on the detail of the design, the large eggs—which look as though they were laid by wooden ostriches—can take about 80 hours to carve. "If you're in a good mood, it goes fast," Riolo says. "If not, it's fairly slow."

Despite their skill, these retirees say woodcarving is just a hobby. Furtado packs up his knives and takes them on fishing trips, combining what he calls "the two most relaxing hobbies."

Riolo uses power tools in his carving and has a shop set up in his Cupertino home, which is decorated with his eggs as well as larger reliefs he has carved onto wooden "canvases." He gives away much of his work, although he says many carvers sell theirs.

"We have some fine sculptors in the club," Riolo says. "Woodcarvers don't get the artistic credit they should."

Furtado, for one, expects that to change. "Quilting was a lost art, and now it's coming back," he says. "I think woodcarving will make a full circle."