On the road at 0615, headed northeast. The station up there had what is characterized as a safety problem.
The station has three air compressors, pretty good sized ones, 480 volts. You need a lot of air to start those big piston engines. Several months back one of them tripped its breaker. That’s not a big deal, usually. Somebody goes to the compressor building, does a quick investigation and resets the breaker. Usually.
These things have a mechanical linkage. This keeps people very well isolated from the actual electricity, making it quite safe. Except this one time, one compressor was in pieces so the other two were very important. And one of those two tripped. The operator went to reset it. Moved the handle. Wouldn’t reset. He called the other operator. Still no luck. Well, if a little push is normally good, a BIG push is usually better. This isn’t a bad approach when you’re dealing with 36-inch valves and engines with pistons the size of waste-baskets, but on the plastic handle of a motor control center breaker, it leads to things breaking. Now it REALLY won’t work.
This was in a time period where the old station controls tech quit. He’s the guy who is responsible for the 480-volt electrical system. We hadn’t hired a replacement.
So guess who gets called.
That was one of those mad dashes across the state, a mere four hour drive. I got there, listened to people begging me to get that compressor running, so I did the expedient thing, bending the linkage back out of the way so I could reach my knowledgeable, carefully trained, experienced hand into the cabinet and directly reset and close the breaker. The compressor’s back on line. I close the door, put a ‘temporary’ cover over the hole left by the broken mechanism, and I go home.
We hire a new controls tech. Good. I make arrangements for replacement parts. Good. Other things get in the way. Months pass. And I get a call from the manager form that station. Safety item now.
So that’s today’s trip. Run up there. Four hours. Work with the new tech. I’ve not worked with him much, so today is an opportunity to get familiar with his capabilities. The project takes an hour. The official shooting of the bull takes an hour. And I’m out the door, headed home. I walk in the front door at 1630. 480 miles.
Of course, those driving miles are no longer the reverie that they once were, not with smartphones. One happy phone call, though. One of the sister companies under our umbrella is getting an upgrade in capabilities, several electric motors in the multiple thousand horsepower range, including a 10,000, a new electrical power system, and I’m pushing 13,800 range here, and best of all, instead of Florida, this one is less than an hour’s drive from the house.
And that’s how my day went.