the boat is back

Today I got the boat hull section back down the road. It had been sitting (well, listing) on the road side since the big mishap back in November, 2008. A source of much laughter and many questions, I must admit to a general feeling of uneasiness every time I drove by it. Subtle, little nagging feelings like: "ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND? LOOK WHAT YOU'VE DONE! THIS BOAT PROJECT WILL NEVER WORK!" Little stuff like that. And after trying to right it up off it's leaning position didn't work--the Mack truck just spun his wheels--I was feeling even worse about it.

That all started changing last night. I took my trusty railroad jack, the big red guy that can easily lift 15 ton, and set it between the bank and the side of the hull. Lots of cranking and positioning of blocks and reminding myself to stay safe (slipping down the bank between the boat hull and the bank could have been disastrous had the boat chose that moment to tip back off the jack) and I got it up. Couldn't quite get it to fall over all the way back to good, though.

That had to wait for this morning and my friend, Hugh. Everybody should have a friend that will, on a work day, come over first thing in the morning to help you do something that's just for you--they don't get anything out of it. They just do it for you--because you asked. Everybody should be so blessed.

We met down there at 7:15. We hooked his pickup truck to the side of the boat and he began pulling it the last little bit over. To keep it from going to far and rocking all the way over, I had a chain hoist attached to the hull and a stout ponderosa pine. That way, after it came over the top of the fall, I could lower it down to the flat bottom of the hull.

Then we hooked the Mack up with a very stout chain, 1 1/2" dia. links. Hugh got in the truck to drive, and I got behind the little parade to keep track of what was going to transpire. I was worried that the hull would fall over to one side or the other, so I lashed a 12' 6 x 8 timber to the bottom of the hull to act like an outrigger to keep things from tipping over. I hoped. If it did go over, we'd never get it back upright again with out the crane and there would not be the room in the road to get the crane up there. Well, as some one once told me "The brave don't live forever; the cautious don't live at all...."

Well, the brave thing was working. I was glad to see that Dr. Brown could pull that 20,000 lb steel box on down the road. And no tipping problems, either. Here's some video of it:

We ran into problems at the bottom. The Mack couldn't pull it. A big ol Mack dump truck with a 20 speed tranny and it couldn't do it! To be fair to the old doctor, it really wasn't his fault...there wasn't enough traction: his wheel started just tearing up the gravel road.

We backed him up and took as much running start as we dared. Nope. We backed him up and shortened the chain as much as we could, thinking that that would put more weight on the back wheels. Nope.

And there the boat sat in the middle of the road. Blocking the road.

Nothing left to do but go on up and wake up Alice, my 1965 M100b Allis Chalmers road grader. At this point, I'm feeling bad because I had told Hugh it would be a piece of cake and he'd be able to get off to his work at a reasonable morning hour. And here we were getting the grader warmed up and ready.

Eventually, we got the grader on down the road and positioned in front of the boat hull in Dr. Brown's place. I wasn't sure how the grader would pull in comparison to the Mack. Wow, incredible difference. Barely even had to work at it. Alice pulled that boat hull on down the rest of the road and I was able to swing it over and park the hull section right about exactly where it had been last fall on the fateful day when we had lifted it up and into the bed of the Mack and tried to carry it up the mountain. Here's Alice in action:

A year later and a bit smarter, I called it a morning. Off to go help Hugh and that turned out to be the best part of the whole day.

Dr. brown is back in town

Got a fish plate cut out (called such because it is supposed to be shaped like a fish with no straight lines that'll promote new frame cracks) and bolted up into place. Welding it in would have been so much easier, but those in the know say not to as it'll crack again. Bolts are the answer. Flanged frame bolts. There were a few pre-drilled holes in the frame, courtesy of Mack Co., but the rest I had to drill. Not a simple task drilling 1/2" holes thru 3/4" steel, but with a cobalt drill bit, slow drill speed and lots of squirts of oil I managed.

I was on the home stretch, with the clock calling 5:15 when the barn phone rang. My friend, Gary. I didn't really want to talk, but he needed to. So we did, a discussion about our church's stanch on accepting people to workshop who are gay or lesbian. This conversation ate up my remaining time I had before I needed to go pick up my son, Soren.

As I walked away from my almost-finished frame repair (one bolt left to drill and then put the wheels back on), I felt frustrated. The walk back up to the house fixed that. I reflected on what was interrupting me from "my work:" my friend, Gary, who would help me in any way he could by my just asking, a thoughtful conversation about how Jesus' most important message was to love each other (the greatest of these is love) and then, lastly, my five-year-old son, Soren. The truck is a thing, just a thing. Ultimately, all we got on this journey is each other. My job--no, my reward--is that.

wills and ways

A day about the letter "t"... Tuesday, Terry, Trunnions

Today Terry came up to help me replace trunnion bolts. Now, if you don't know what trunnions are, well, you're in good company. The trunnion is the probably the most important part of an entire dump truck. It is a steel rod as thick as your ankle and it supports the entire business end of the truck: all the weight the rig labors to carry is transfered thru the trunnion to the back wheels--all 8 of them.

Holding the trunnion to the truck is the trunnion cap which is, in turn, secured by 8 bolts--grade 8, 7/8's thick times 4" long.

First getting the old ones out. No way to unbolts them. They've been permanently rusted, fused, and frozen together for many years. They've gotta come off with the oxyacetylene torch. Problem is it's very cramped quarters down there in trunnion territory and when you've got a torch going and sparks are flying it's guaranteed that they're going to find away to the place you don't want them. In my case today it was my nostril and my neck and my ear and up my shirt sleeve. Not all at once, mind you--separate events. Separate sets of cursing and trying to wriggle myself out fast from under the truck to get at what's on fire and burning against skin.

Got the bolts off, Terry shows up and we get to work. The replacement bolts, shiny and new in the box, are supposed to be torqued to 1200 ft lbs. So guess how you put 1200 pounds of force on a bolt wriggling around under a truck axle. The pro's have an expensive 1" drive air wrench (that's not me). We did it with a 10 ft piece of pipe and some easy Math. 120 pounds of force 10 ft out on the end of a wrench extension equals 1200 ft pounds.

Tomorrow I'll fabricate the frame rail reinforcement and bolt it up. Then Dr. Brown will be ready to go to town. Or go down the road to haul the Sea Mule section back down to the bottom.

fixing Dr. Brown

So, those who know me have most likely heard the story about me doing a wheelie in the Mack dump truck trying to carry a Sea Mule hull section up my mtn. road. That was last autumn and now it's time to fix the damage I did to this truck, named Dr. Brown.

I cracked the frame rail. All the way top to bottom and stretched out the trunnion cap bolts (one even popped off). It's a miracle the truck kept his rear end under him at all.

After bringing the truck over to the shop, I stripped everything off the frame that was in harm's way. Then tacked up a bit of weld just to hold the frame crack tight together. Cautiously raising the dump bed, I put some daylight on things. Hmmn, I think I can fix this.

Ground out the crack, preheated the area with the torch and did some vertical welding with 7018 rod. Not pretty, but a sound weld. I ground it flat and next will be bolting a reinforcing plate 1/4" x 9" x 20" and 10 flanged grade 8 1/2"bolts.

Last fall, when this happened one could have observed me standing with my mouth open making low groaning sounds. I thought I had ruined the truck for sure. Now the sound you'd hear is me whistling. Two different sides of looking at the same event and two different sounds.

there when you need it

Budd nuts. Too much wise crack potential to even go there. But, really, budd nuts, budd lug nuts. These are the specialized nuts that hold on dual truck tires on, say, a dump truck. For a truck mechanic, this is as easy as buttering toast and is done as often. To me, it's new stuff.

I'm starting my fixing-the-Mack-frame project by first taking off the tires on one side. Easy. Sure. I stare at the wheel...how do I get those big nuts off there? Big and deeply recessed.

I begin searching and experimenting with tools. Some won't reach, and those that do, well, they don't have near the beefiness needed to get those lug nuts to budge.

I get a breaker bar, a long six footer that I got from some where. It's got a unusual end on it, but it aughta do some damage. Then I see that I need an extension on the socket. Hmmn, there's this funny extension that I got from somewhere and threw in the scrap iron bin.

Retrieving it, I come back and begin staring at the two pieces in my hand. Then I realize the odd breaker bar end goes perfectly in the extension. Then I see that the extension isn't just an extension--the end of it is exactly sized for the lug nuts. I'm in business.

Slipping a 4 ft pipe over the 6 ft breaker bar, climbing up on the dump truck side and jumping up and down on the cheater bar (10 ft out and 150 lbs of me = 1500 ft lbs of torque on the lug nuts) and they squeal in protesting movement.

Without this special tool there would have been absolutely no way I could have gotten the wheels off. And then I remembered where I got that special tool: in the old garage of the house we bought in Walla Walla, Washington. I had kept this tool, even though I had no idea what it was for. About ten years I've had it, and tripped over it, and moved it around when it was in the way. Not knowing what it was for, but just that it must have been for something therefore I was going to keep it.

And, now it redeemed itself. I'm thinking about all the other things, and experiences, that, at the time, meant little to nothing but now were the keystone for something else. You never know. A smile, a rain storm, a chosen other way, a tool and it makes all the difference...as Frost pointed out much better than I.

I wonder what events and things in my here-and-now will be key for later chapter in my life. I try to keep my eyes and heart open wider not to miss it.