Category Archives: Technology

A.I.

Okay, let’s start with an established fact:  I’m OLD.  Seventy-four.  I’ve watched technologies progress over seven decades.  I’ve seen paths predicted that has failed to develop (yet).  Flying cars, anyone?

When I graduated high school (and dinosaurs roamed the earth) adding machines and calculators were electromechanical devices requiring either mechanical cranking or access to a wall socket for power.  They were out there, expensive.

We sat in classrooms and learned the progression through the world of mathematics – adding, subtracting, multiplying, dividing, fractions, decimals, all before we got through elementary school.  Then came algebra and geometry and trig and calculus.

Somewhere in the early 1970’s the handheld pocket calculator showed up and became cheap enough for personal use.  This knowledge quickly became a trope in the classroom:  “But teacher, why do I need to learn how to add four-digit numbers.  I have a calculator.”

And the teacher (back then you couldn’t BE a teacher unless you could add and subtract) would smile wanly and reply, “Little Johnny,  what if your batteries die?”

Indeed.  I moved from slide rule to scientific calculator, although I kept a slide rule in my desk at work.  I used it on occasion just to wow the youngsters.

Everybody at my level in the  company had a computer and every computer had MS Office which meant that I had access to MS Excel.  If one had some small amount of numeracy (like ‘literacy’ except for numbers) and a few pointers, one could use Excel to perform calculations.

Of course there were caveats:  You had to  know what you had, what you wanted to have, and some idea of what correct answers might look like.  An idiot with a spreadsheet is still an idiot.  Give that idiot access to MS PowerPoint and you can move him into management.

Now we have “artificial intelligence”.  Ask a question, get an answer, NOW.  Somebody (or some THING) has done the legwork for you.

“But teacher, how come I gotta memorize this stuff about history.  All I gotta do is ask Alexa or Siri.”

And everybody on that big hump of the intelligence bell curve will be asking the question, supported by management and leadership who are right there beside them on the curve, and they’ll get the same old answers, approved by those before them.  No more Edisons or Teslas or Wrights or von Brauns.  “Alexa says…”

Saturday on the Coast

0730 on a beautiful Saturday morning. I’ve looked forward to it all week – sleeping late, not having anything pressing on the schedule. Idyllic, it was…

And the phone rang.

Me:  (not recognizing the number)  This is me.

Him:  This is James at X-ray (names changed to protect the innocent).  We’re having generator problems.

Me:  I thought we had those fixed.

Him:  We thought so too, but now it’s got fire coming out of it and it shut down.

Me:  Fire?  From which part?  (Could be an engine issue, in which case I go back to sleep.  Wait…  No…)

Him:  The generator.  The tech tested it and it tests good, so we tried again and fire came out again.

Me:  Do NOT try again.

Him:  We need to rent a generator…

And so we’re off to the races.  Everybody who has an idea where one might rent a generator…

Wait, let me explain.  The dead one is 300kW at 480 volts.  That’s enough for twenty houses.

My first phone call was unsuccessful.  Answering was one of those ‘Press 2 for rental’ things that led to a dead end.  Saturday morning, right?  Second phone call, I got an actual person, but they didn’t have anything available in my capacity range.

Phone rang again.  One of the other guys found one.  It’s ours.  I asked the obvious questions:  Where is it?  How long before it gets to our site?

Oh, you didn’t ask them that?  Call ’em back.  Hell, gimme the number and I’ll call ’em.

Lo and behold, the generator’s ten miles away, they’re hitching it to a truck right now, and…

If I leave now I can beat ’em there.  So off I go, I-10 to Sulphur, Louisiana, then south towards the Cajun Riviera, Holly Beach, right there on the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.  They rebuilt a lot stronger after Hurricane Rita, so several of the beach camps survived Hurricane Laura.

Highway 27 goes between Sulphur and Holly Beach.  Alongside the highway is a 69 kV transmission line that feeds electricity to points south.  In Sulphur, poles are down.  Heading south, there are sections where three or four poles might remain standing, but the rest are laid over.

Once I get to the little town of Hackberry, 95% of the poles are down.  That corner of the state isn’t getting electricity for a while, except for generators.

Like my station.  It has two separate units, each with its own utility feed and each with its own standby generator.

“It’ll be EASY”, one of the site guys says.  “We had to do this before, and we have a disconnect switchbox on the side of the building.  All you have to do is hook up the generator cables, fire it up, and close that switch.”

Sounds good to me.  As soon as I get three, I locate the switch up on the side of the building at a height where it would avoid most storm surges.  It avoided this one.  One of the site guys retrieves a ladder, climbs up, opens the box, and… NO CABLES.  Nothing but a box.  Needs cables running inside the building to connect to the power distribution equipment.

So we come up with Plan B.  We move the generator to another location, open the transfer switch panel (that’s it below) and drop the cables from the dead utility feed so we can install the cables from the generator.

That leaves a lot of pretty big cables running through a storage area, but this is not the time for pretty work.  The new cables installed, covers back in place, we go out to the generator and fire that baby up.

It’s quiet for its size.  and it’s showing us 480 volts, three phase, 60 Hertz, and all we have to do is make sure that the rotation is correct.  You can hook one of these up wrong and your motors’ll run backwards, a good way to damage expensive equipment.  We have everything that spins turned off.  The site tech checks one.  It’s right.  We’re good to go.

And I’m out the gate for the 90-minute drive home.  And that’s how I spent my Saturday.

Skill Set

Once upon a time, in order to survive and excel at a given discipline one, needed some certain levels of technical knowledge. In my field, if one understood things like ampacities of conductors and Ohm’s Law and how to waltz around a power triangle, and a few other things, one was on firm ground.

No more. I’m a “project manager” and the success in that field of endeavor is NOT just making sure the expenditures stay below budget, it’s navigating the vague, slithery pathways of SAP, the program the Germans sold us to get even with us not letting them keep France.

Hardly a week goes by without a change. I came back to work after a week off, applied a required update, found that the sub-programs I needed had disappeared. In a fit of “misery loves company” that same sup-program disappeared from EVERYBODY’S computer, so I wasn’t alone.

During one of the updates, ‘they’ changed its name so that the link we previously used was no longer functional. Four hours later one of my (more ambitious) co-workers found what they’d renamed it, so I updated the link and now I’m back to tiptoeing through the halls of beancounterdom.

THAT’S more important than actually getting motors to spin.

And I -DO- consider myself more than passably adept around computers.

Whatcha been up to?

Glad you asked.

700 miles on the car this week.

Tuesday I slid down to a station deep in Cajun country to help a new technician with the task of swapping out a bad battery on his station UPS.  It’s like the little UPS you can buy for your computer – ties to the utility power and if the utility drops, it provides power for whatever’s plugged into it.

In our case, the station control system and safety systems are plugged into it.

Ours is a little bigger.  Here’s the battery we took out.

That’s an Exide FTC-21P.  Two volts, 1680(!) amp-hours, 303 pounds.  Our UPS has twelve of ’em, like this:

Twenty-four volts, feeds to the station inverter and will carry everything we need for twelve hours.

We hope we don’t need it to run off the batteries that long, because when the utility power stops, we automatically start the station generator, which can carry the entire station until it breaks.  It’s fueled by natural gas, something we have inexhaustible amounts of.

this is it – 150 KW.  Waukesha engine, KATO generator, three-phase 480 volts out.  We had it down for annual maintenance when i was there:

As MY generators go, this is a smaller one.

Next day, off to a site north of Houston.

Batteries?  The tech there is testing his.  His bank has 60 two-volt cells.  This test setup monitors the voltage of EACH cell while a load is applied, watching for the first of the sixty to drop below 1.75 volts.  How long this takes is compared to the manufacturer specification, and if we’re 80% or less, we’re getting a new bank.  Why not just the bad cell?  They’re ALL the same age.  Critical equipment.  We won’t press our luck.

It’s routine for us, but ‘routine’ around electricity means there are many dangers involved.  We practice safe work habits.  One is that you don’t wear jewelry when working around electricity.   This is why:

There!  Aren’t you glad you asked?

Playing around…

I’ve always liked sticking my fingers into technology.

In high school, I started flying, and I had a strong interest in energetic chemistry. Had my own plane for a while, a Baby Lakes.

My chosen career, after the Army, was electrical power and controls.

I bought my first computer in 1982 – a Timex-Sinclair 1000. My second computer, in 1985, was that happy little toaster, the original Macintosh, in which I did that ‘hardware hacker’ thing, bumping up the 128k RAM to 512k.

I and a couple of buddies made some good money making and selling ‘IBM clones’ in 1988-89.

I’ve dabbled in 3-D printing. I have a few of ’em.

And now I’ve started playing with lasers. Bought a laser cutter. Here’s the result of my first day of playing around:

That’s lasered into a bit of quarter-inch birch plywood. I can see where such a thing might be of some monetary benefit. Changing dates, adding names, etc., is pretty easy.

Or I could just do art for my own use. I hope John Cox forgives me for this one:

I cut that one on a ceramic tile that cost me twenty-two cents at Lowes, which left me with the image in white, but incised into the surface of the tile. I filled the black parts in with a Sharpie. Ain’t selling those unless I work a deal with John Cox, who drew the original.

I don’t know how we did it…

Found this picture over at Kim du Toit’s place this morning:

I have admire the inventiveness.  Right now, outside, it’s ninety degrees.  That’s actually a bit cool for summer in Louisiana.  the humidity’s only 46%.  That’s low.  Put ’em together, though, we get little pop-up showers.  Dump fifteen minutes of rain onto heat-scorched land, and that 46% doubles.

In my youth, cars didn’t have air conditioning.  Oh, there were a few.  Mom and Dad never had one, not until I left home.

Driving around in the summer, we had 440 climate control.  That’s four windows open, forty miles an hour.

Cars had wing windows, little triangular bits in the front edge of the front windows.  You could open those and change air circulation.  A bit open, they acted to evacuate hot air from inside the car.  If you pushed them all the way open, they’d for scoops that would channel air into the car.  It was still ninety-degree air, but it was MOVING ninety degree air.  Somehow we existed.

As I made a grocery and drug run this morning, I mused on this change in life.  Cars don’t have wing windows any more, and a working air conditioner’s almost a necessity.

Ohm. It’s not just a theory, it’s the LAW!

2 electrocuted at substation in Detroit

Two burglary suspects likely made contact with 24,000 volts of electricity, authorities say.

Two burglary suspects likely made contact with 24,000 volts of electricity, authorities say.

Police are investigating the apparent electrocution of two people early Friday at a Detroit Public Lighting Authority building, Fox 2 reported on Saturday.

A worker reportedly told Fox 2 he found the bodies just after 6:30 a.m. when he went to the substation to investigate a power outage. The pair are suspected of breaking in the front door of the substation, and, according to Fox 2, they were in the process of stealing copper wiring when they were electrocuted.

Sympathy? Yeah, you can find ‘sympathy’. It’s in the dictionary, between ‘shit’ and ‘syphilis’.

There you are, sitting at the house. It’s YOUR week on call. you get one – Substation So & so had a tripped off.

I’ve been there, back when I worked for the whopping big electrical utility. You put on your work clothes, go out to your company vehicle, and speed off. Cop? “Bud, I’m on the way to the substation. Power outage.” and you get an escort with flashy lights.

You get there, parse the alarms, do an inspection, call the dispatcher, and it’s back on line. Or you start calling out a crew of linemen and repair guys to switch power around and to get the customers’ lights on and get your equipment fixed.

I’ve found various defunct wildlife. You want to find SOMETHING to blame the outage on.

I never found bodies, not that we didn’t have out share of copper thieves. I found raccoons, possums, squirrels. Even an owl. Never found bodies.

It happens. Like this one. For a few dollars’ worth of copper scrap, some poor utility guy is going to be seeing the fried bodies for the rest of his life.

I’m the guy that teaches electrical safety for several states’ worth of interstate pipeline. My guys aren’t this stupid. I tell ’em, “Not only will it KILL you, but you’ll hurt really bad the whole time you’re dying.” I hope these bastards suffered.

Take me away…

Transformer died almost a month and a half ago. We had a lot of fun locating a somewhat adequate rental unit, due to the station’s designers choosing an oddball voltage – 6900 volts, for the station’s power system. We finally located ONE, but it’s only 2/3 the capacity of the dead one. Still, 2/3 of a transformer is better than no transformer at all.

So the next step is to get the old transformer out of the way and off to the shop in Minnesota. first we have to prep it for travel. That means removing a lot of external things like bushings and radiators. Here’s a ‘before’ picture:

And an ‘after’:

Remainder of the story is below the fold: Continue reading Take me away…

Dead! Funeral arrangements pending.

Not me.  I mean that poor transformer I talked about yesterday.

This morning I was on the road to a little station in the East Texas Piney Woods.  There I met a tech who knew how to get to a remote station that is so far back in the woods that they can’t get commercial power.  They self-generate, and the two generators we OWN there are dead.  They’re using a rental and they need a new, permanent installation.  I got pictures and data.  Gonna be fun at the office tomorrow.

Following that trip, I swung south to the station with the tripped transformer.

If I’ve tested one transformer in my life, I’ve done several hundred, and this one I knew to be bad.  We had to have test data to prove it.  A testing contractor sent out some technicians and some expensive test equipment.  They were working when I got there, but before I showed up, one of them had pulled samples of the transformer’s oil.

Oil?  Yes, most of those big square tanks are filled with oil, a highly refined, pure hydrocarbon oil roughly the same as diesel fuel.  As a matter of fact, diesel engines will run quite well on it.

the oil’s in there for two reasons – cooling and insulation, and it fills the tank almost to the top.  On my transformer, as is that case with many of them, the space in the tank that’s not filled with oil is filled with nitrogen.

Flammable?  The oil IS mildly flammable – like diesel fuel, but there’s no oxygen – remember that nitrogen?  and temperatures of a transformer do not normally get anywhere near the ignition point.

Stuff happens, though.  Somewhere along about the wee hours of Sunday morning, the 138,000 volts inside the tank found a way out of its designed paths.  It faulted.  For a few cycles – seven or so, 34.5 MEGAWATTS – the power of 34,500 microwave ovens – was released inside that tank, under the oil.

My protective devices noted the fault after about three cycles and operated the circuit breakers to remove power from the transformer.  From the time the relay said ‘trip’ to the time the current stopped was three cycles –  a twentieth of a second.  During that time, the temperature of the oil, all 3572 gallons of it, rose fifty degrees C, topping out at 80 C.

If the relays and breakers had NOT cleared the fault, well…

But everything worked as designed.  Another thing about that oil – it’s a hydrocarbon and how it acts under high temperatures is a known thing.

We had a whopping big arc – lots of high temperature- in the oil, so those oil samples were rushed to a lab that specializes in analysis of the dissolved gases in the oil. The released energy takes the long hydrocarbon chains of the oil and cracks them into shorter chains, gases.  Analysis of the amount of gases found in the oil can tell us a lot about what happens inside the transformer.

This sample told us what I’d already seen from external data – big fault inside the transformer.

So it’s dead.  A year and a half old, and deader’n Hillary Clinton’s presidential hopes.

We’ll get the manufacturer to come out and pronounce a benediction and it’ll likely go away, possible for repair, maybe to make room for a replacement.  I don’t know if the manufacturer will give a root cause for the failure – they’re not on my list of favorite people – but one can hope.

Fun-filled Friday

0539 and I’m on the road to my station south of Houston. This one’s been running a year of so, a couple of 4500 horsepower pumps handling natural gas liquids. The tech was concerned that the protective devices on the 4160-volt power system might not have been set up properly. My goal for the day was to use a computer program to download the settings from those protective relays to my computer and do a quick analysis.

I got this act down pat. A laptop, the proper software, a serial cable and a null-modem adapter, and in an hour and a half I’m finished. I do a cursory examination of the files and conclude that the relays have been properly set. I spend a bit of time explaining a few things to the technician who ‘owns’ the site.

We have a project to tie the various protective relays into the station’s control computers so that power system parameters can be easily monitored. We discussed some of how that’s going to work. I know how my end works, and we’re hiring an eminently competent compan to do the installation. I expect no problems. Of course, it’s the same company that left the loose endss hanging that we fixed last week at another station. We’ll watch a bit closer this time.

Then it’s back on the road for a two and a half hour drive back home.

You can see interesting things running around Houston’s periphery. I saw THIS:

Well it might not have been that one, but it was one just like it, slipping in and out of view through the low overcast, landings somewhere south of the Sam Houston Parkway.