I'm Going to Have to Refer You to a Specialist...

Well, it's been a quiet week aboard the USS SLATER, my weekend retreat. (For those of you who can place that opening, good for you!) The end of the week had been crummy weather-wise, but I was pleased to see clear skies when I awoke at 7 Saturday morning (which is late for me), and despite mild backups on I-87 due to construction, the drive to Albany was as pleasant as ever. Or it would have been were it not for the problem that I knew would still be confronting me when I arrived: the broken pipe end in the reducer.

Arriving as usual, I made my change from mild-mannered, street-roaming civilian to The Mechanic For Hire, stepping into the Engineer's Office in civvies and re-emerging moments later, blue coveralls spotless, black boots gleaming, third class crow pin in NAVY ballcap shining, ready to take on 60 years of rust, crud, corrosion, and paint!

First up, my arch enemy from last week, the reducer. There were no larger extractors to be found. The largest one I could find was just barely too narrow to be wedged inside the pipe like I needed it to be. I tried bending washers and wedging them in, making the hole smaller. The extractor slipped. I tried wrapping it in thin sheet copper. The extractor slipped. In desparation, I put a wood shim in. The extractor slipped. I had no choice. I was licked. I had to call in the experts.

The experts, wisened beyond their years, came and looked at my problem. I described the efforts I had made, and they nodded gravely. I detailed the ways in which I had tried to gently finesse the broken end of pipe out of the reducer. They scratched their chins and frowned. I offered suggestions of alternatives for consideration. They reached for a hammer and chisel. But by bit, the experts tapped, tinkered, and finally, they showed me what they were up to. How they were gently chiseling the pipe in on itself to make removal possible. Then they handed the chisel and hammer to me, at which time I tried to replicate their detailed work. And I failed. The small piece of pipe that had me licked for the better part of two weeks came out, but the threads in the brass reducer were so marred and mauled that I thought at first that the reducer was a total loss. But, in the spirit of giving it the old college try, I pulled out a tap and did what I could to make the threads serviceable again; I must say that I was pleased with the result.

With the reducer finally back in one piece, it was time to find a way to replace or fabricate the piece of piping and union that I had broken previously. I decided that the easiest way to go for several reasons (not the least of which being that I had left the broken-off piece to be replicated at home) was to install a new piece of pipe, remove the old union and put a new one in. Digging throught the plumbing storage area that is after steering (not to mention unventilated and extremely hot), I found the union I needed and returned to the machine shop to make the changes.

First, to remove the unbroken half of the union. I decided the way to go would be to remove the smaller piece from the overhead in the engineroom and take it up to the machine shop and work on it with the vice. However, when I put the wrench on and turned, it was not the coupling I was expecting that loosened, but one about three feet away. Try as I might, with only those two wrenches, either the whole three feet of pipe was coming out, or nothing at all. Five minutes later, I returned to the Machine Shop with three feet of pipe...

Five minutes with the vice, and the piping section came apart: about 8" of pipe with the union, a moisture separator, another 10" of pipe, and a valve. I put the part with the union in the vice, turned, and no dice. I got a larger wrench. No dice. Enter Erik Collin, who, without a word entered, picked up a blowtorch, heated the union, and then handed me the wrench. The union came right off. It's one of those principles that seems to get pushed to the back of your mind when learning about nuclear power: metal expands when heated. The Experts: 2; Mechanic For Hire: 0. So all the bits and parts got disassembled, the globe valve reconditioned and its stem tapped for a new handwheel, and reinstalled. It is at this point I will pause, because it was about this time I was interrupted by someone calling my name from down in the engineroom.


Gus, the Expert on the right in the first photo, had been rearranging some boxes in the engineroom (which I will call by it's designator of B-4, since if you're still reading this, you're initated enough to know what it's really called). He came across two plastic cases that he thought I should look in. I of course opened the two boxes, each one about the size of a sandwich, and in each one were about half a dozen extractors, all large enough to have been useful earlier when trying to take that piece of pipe out of the reducer! Talk about a useful discovery that would have been better found 3 hours prior!

So, after that bit of news, I was ready to put the reducer back in and be done with it. So bit by bit, piece by piece, the jigsaw puzzle I had removed over the past few days of work was reassembled. Once it was done, I can't say that it looked bad.


Okay, well that's about all I've got for you now. There is more, of course, but I'm going to save it. There's no guarantee that I'll have time over my next days off to return to Albany, and in that eventuality, I want to have some material left over for next weekend. Unless something else comes to mind, I'm thinking a brief lesson on electrical theory? Don't worry, I won't make you do homework; but, just like when I give a tour, no one is safe from a pop-quiz...

Mr. Popular

Well, jumpin' gee-willikers! I've got a comment! Look out, People magazine, I'm heading for the top of your popularity list! Now all I have to do is print t-shirts, hire an agent, plan a world tour, and come out with my own line of clothing and perfume. I think I'll call it Odeur de la Diesel No. 2...

And speaking of popular, I don't know if it's the summer vacationers or the recent coverage we've gotten in the press, but the tours seem to be going nonstop these days. Of course, being a long-winded Southerner, I tend to take a little longer than these fast-talking New Yorkers, but it seems like I'm having to go faster to prevent the tour behind me from catching up. I'm not complaining, but it's an adjustment I'll have to make.

Of course, not that I could complain about this weekend in any respect. I returned on Saturday to finish up on my air reducer. I took the parts down to the sandblaster in the forecastle and gave them a good cleaning. The nuts and studs came out with no difficulty during disassembly, and were likewise no problem to reinstall. The parts went back together without a hitch, and before long, the reducer was back in one piece and nearly ready to be put back into the system. The only problem was the sheared pipe I mentioned last time. Of course, my backup plan to get spare parts from Home Depot came to naught, in that the components are non-standard sizes, I suppose to prevent unscrupulous shipyard workers from taking parts for use at home or for sale. But all good mechanics, along with a backup plan, have a backup to the backup, so I'm still not sunk. But barring that one part, the reducer is done, sitting on the workbench, waiting to be reinstalled.

For my next victim, I picked out a smaller gate valve. You've seen photos of a gate valve before, so I'll spare you this time. But I must say, I was rather surprised. The nuts came off the bolts with no problems. The gasket on one side had fused to each of the flanges, but with 15 minutes of work with a hacksaw, chisel, and screwdriver, the valve came out, no problem. I was apprehensive when I put the valve in the vice for disassembly, but it came apart with no problem. I sandblasted it, took it to the wire wheel, and reassebled it without a hitch. I did replace the handwheel, but that was more for asthetics than necessity (a larger handwheel than what was there seemed more appropriate). Later that afternoon, except for the handwheel, which I decided to repaint, the valve was pretty much back in the system. (I say "pretty much" because I just remembered: I was in the process of reinstalling the valve when I got called away, and I never had a chance to complete the reinstallation. Hopefully no one will be upset that I left my bucket and a few tools in the enginerooms...)

Today, Sunday, the tourists started showing up before we opened. Things were chugging along just fine, from about 10 am until about 2 pm when the weather broke. I did two tours, and the other tour guides and I didn't even see each other until the rain started and chased all the paying customers away. Both of my groups today were outstanding. My first group contained a retired nuke EM1 who is working for a local power company. He and his family had excellent questions, the kids were well-behaved, and it was an all-around good time.

My second group was probably the best group I've had thus far. To begin with, I had a World War II Army veteran. It's always great to have vets along, because they can always interject their personal stories and make things more interesting. This gentleman, being Army, didn't have too much to contribute, but he did say the berthing areas reminded him of the troopship he took to France. Nevertheless, he did get a handshake and a sincere thanks from me before he left.

Also among this group were some fabricators from northern Indiana in town for some work they are doing locally. These guys were sharp and asked excellent questions. On top of that, they wanted to see the enginerooms. Now, I look for excuses to show people the enginerooms. So anyone who wants to see the enginerooms gets their wish granted, at least in that I show them the aft motor room. These guys were so interested, I took them down to the aft diesel room, which I have never done for anyone. And the questions kept coming. It was outstanding! Most groups I take usually ask the same questions, or really simple ones, and it gets to be a bit tedious, but these guys just kept the questions coming, and I was loving every moment of it. They even asked some good questions that I didn't know the answer to, which I like also, because it makes me think, and think hard. And of course, when I go and look up the answer, I get to know just that little bit more about the ship. If I could have a tour each weekend with people as intelligent, inquisitive, and friendly as these guys were, the Navy would probably never hear from me again...

Right as we were about to close, a car pulled up and three gentlemen and a girl climb out. It was obvious that three generations were represented in that car, the girl being the young end and one of the gentlemen the older end, with the two other gentlemen being the middle. They got in under the wire, and another guide took them aboard, but the older gentleman stayed on the wood deck where I was sitting. Being a good tour guide (and a Southerner), it wasn't long until I struck up a conversation with him. As it turns out, he is a DE veteran, joined in February of 1942 and stayed in for 21 years. He retired EMC (Chief Electrician's Mate) and went to work for the Post Office. He and his family drove up from north Jersey just to take a look at the ship, and from what he said, they're back on their way home now.

It was while I was talking to him, it made me think about just how much we stand to lose if we lose SLATER. We lose the men and women each day. That's sad in its own right, but that is how human beings are -- we can't stick around forever. But it made me think about what I'm doing each weekend in Albany. I'm not trying to brag, but I'm putting things in perspective when I say that I'm helping, in some small way, to keep the story of what these men did alive. I'm helping to keep their story alive, and I tell and re-tell their story weekend after weekend, in some small way. And if those who walk away from SLATER have at least some small idea, some increased respect for what these men did (and women; people forget that the people who built these ships were mostly women), then I have done my job. Not that I care about getting glory, because I don't. I care about passing their story on to those who don't know it. I care about doing my job, both the job that pays my bills and my job of keeping these stories alive. My job for my country. My job for my Navy. But most importantly, my job for my Shipmates.

Semper fortis.

Welcome to Another Exciting Episode!

Goaded from his torpor of inaction, our heroic mechanic arises from his pre-dinner sitting, powers up his computer, and logs onto his blog, to share with the world the wonders of World War II naval engineroom restoration! [Dramatic chord]. This week's episode: The Valve Gods Have Been Satisfied...

Well, those of you who have been following my work with any regularity know, the pesky gate valve that has haunted my weekends/days off for the past few weeks, the one for which I had to find a new handwheel, the one that refused to come out unless part of the piping came out with it, the one that had nuts fused to bolts that had to be removed with welding torches and metal chisels was finally cleaned up and slated to get put back in the system minus the packing gland nut. I figured that the gland nut, when a replacement was finally found, would be easy enough to replace. I mean, the valve wouldn't have to be removed -- take of the handwheel, slip the gland nut over the shaft, torque it down, and replace the handwheel.

So, I made my return to replace the valve. I walk up to my bucket, and lo and behold, some kind sould had found the exact packing gland nut that I needed! First thing that day, the part that I never thought I would find has been delivered almost literally into my lap! I knew from that moment it would be a good day. So, with newly purchased nuts and bolts from the local Home Depot in one hand, wrenches and ratchets in the other, the valve, fully assembled, was replaced. Not to brag, but I think the thing looks pretty good. Of course there was some wiggling and loosening of other parts, some mild "mechanical agitation", and, let's face it, a resonable, but not excessive amout of swearing. (Serously, folks, I'm a Sailor. It's my job. It's what I do. They don't call it "swearing like a shoe salesman", now do they?) But as I snapped this photo, I couldn't help but to smile.

Looking around the enginerooms, wrench in hand, I had to choose my new victim -- er, project. I had done several globe valves, and the gate valves left were either too corroded to bear looking at or too large to contemplate removing by myself. Truth be told, most of them were both. However, looking in the overhead, I noticed a device that kind of stood out, mostly on account of it's color. You don't often see blue valves, but this one was. An air reducer! How quaint. It was new territory to me, from an actual hands-on standpoint; it did not look excessively corroded, terribly large, or horribly complicated to remove. It was perfect. So, after procuring a pipe wrench, I attacked the reducer with all due vigor.

Now, I say "all due vigor" for a reason, mostly so that no one can really say that I attacked it with excessive or undue vigor. And the reason I want to preclude that, is because of this...

Yup, I broke it. Now, to be fair, it is an old, galvanized metal pipe, exposed to moisture for God only knows how long, but as I tried to remove the pipe from the reducer, the pipe sheared. I'm currently bugging local plumbing supply stores trying to find a replacement, but I do have a contengency plan should all else fail. All good mechanics have a contengency plan...

Okay, so the reducer was removed; what to do next? Disassemble it, of course! With less effort than I would have anticipated, the reducer came apart.

Now, if this thing looks complicated, all I can say is that, well, I agree. I went to the Engineer's Office looking for a technical manual, but to no avail. Although I expected to remain short on avail, I took the manufacturer's name of the side of the reducer and looked them up online when I got home, and sure enough, they're still around. I'm currently talking to the good folks at Keckley to see if they even have anyone around who would know about this particular reducer. More on that as the news comes in.

After taking the bits and pieces to the wire wheel, there was an amazing difference.

Well, other than that, there is not too much to report. The enginerooms are being re-painted, the tours go on. Chipping and welding go on with regularity, and the depth charges keep rolling in, from somewhere in Montana, I've been told. The sun rises and sets. The river rolls on. And SLATER keeps afloat, and looking better and better each day.