Sunday 5 April 2015

A FEW TALES OF 'MARSHIE ENGINEERING' (MARCH 2105)

As I hope I have been able to adequately share with you, we really enjoyed what we had found in Esperance. The town was a comfortable size yet stocked everything we needed, the local scenery was relatively close and stunning in parts, the port was fascinating and the seafront park a delight.

No, we didn't go to the museum, the quaint, and from my perspective, touristy junky 'Stonehenge' (why would you when you've stood in the rain at the real thing) or manage other than a quick skirt around the Esperance Lakes. Nor did I chase herring and squid off the Tanker Jetty...we were just too busy with other stuff.


'Other stuff' included again removing, and cleaning junk out of the micro filters in our increasingly annoying (and I suspected, failing) water pressure limiting valve. Its position under the front of the van on the A frame means that removing this valve is a job when your scribe always looks at his most inelegant, and occasionally, as was pointed out to me in Bremer Bay, this lack of charm may border on the immodest!


This was something which had not escaped the attention of the in-house propriety police. "You're not going to do that wearing those shorts again are you?" "Well, bugger it, yes.....who's to see?" Very nearly none of you, dear readers. This photo just squeaked in past the censor!




This is not a job for old bones and although I have now mastered the art of disconnecting and rejoining the plumbing, it is awkward, frustrating and time consuming. I know, I know...what else is there on your agenda I hear you sniff. Plenty, as you have recently seen.





It was whilst we were here in Esperance I made another discovery. The valve was leaking badly. All attempts at repair ended in spectacular failure.....drip, drip, bloody DRIP!!!   Despite a number of phone calls, trawls through the Internet and visits to various, large plumbing suppliers, I could not find a replacement for love nor money. As we later discovered in Perth, these particular units are like hens' teeth, and can only be sourced in Sydney. We strongly suspected there was a cheap job lot going out when our van was built, not an uncommon practice in the industry.

The leak is not of real concern if the van is on grass, but a cement slab presents the problem of a potential very unwelcome water flow into the annex area.  We solved that by using a bucket under the valve. If that was impractical.....we filled our tanks and used the internal pump. We did buy an alternative unit in Perth, but found that there was no way it could be fitted to our system. Fortunately we were able to return it to Camec, but these trips to and fro were annoyingly time consuming and the end result very frustrating. 

Hopefully, after a couple of frantic calls to Country Time in Geraldton, a replacement alternative valve and the requisite altered plumbing (the replacement will be of a different length...nothing's simple in this game) will put an end to the problem. 

With all this angst, one would think that a unique engineering challenge would be the last thing on my decidedly non-practical/handyman/mechanical or anything to do with 'hands on' mind. Not so.


Our friends Andy and Margaret (erstwhile of Carnarvon Big 4 and more recently Bremer Bay), like us, travel with their cat. Andy has come up with the most inventive way by which to dispense with the bulk of the very necessary moggie scratching post. I am sure there may be some amongst you who would consider this to be a 'luxury' item in a caravan.  This is not so, believe me...it is very much a case of 'no post...shredded upholstery'. 

The post itself is not the problem...it's the large square base on which it must rest. I was forever tripping over it, particularly in the dead of night as I stumbled down the van to the heads. And as you can see in this shot, Max has given the top of the post real stick over the past year or so.  A replacement was nigh in any event.


Andy's marvellous piece of kit actually converts the leg of the dinette table into a scratching post. He was very generously prepared to share his creative talent with us. After an intensive briefing in their van before leaving Bremer, and my concern that ours would have to be different for a number of reasons, the time had come to challenge the limitations of my practical abilities. I could procrastinate no longer.

I left Bunnings Esperance armed with all the necessary bits (I hoped) and a steely determination to succeed. A piece of poly pipe, two end caps, carpet material, tech screws of the right length (so I thought), were under my arm in in my pocket. Back at base, out came the drill, bits, hacksaw, pliers, tape, file, marking pen, scissors, and Stanley knife. After a very deep breath, off we go.

 



First, measure and cut the pipe to length. What's so hard about that I hear most of you scoff.  Believe me, friends, I can mess up even the most simple of measurements.













Next the end caps have to marked out to fit around the table post to ensure that when his nibs is belting away with extended claws the whole kit and caboodle does not rock alarmingly from side to side. The diameter of the pipe is greater than the post so it has to be held snugly at top and bottom.











Now for the really tricky bit. My seemingly inexhaustible tool kit (much of which has attracted less than polite questions such as, "Why do you carry that?...followed by an opinion piece, "You'll never need it") did not include a hole bit. It was time to improvise. Using a combination of bits I managed to cut out the centre of the caps and drill small holes continuously around the perimeter of the required hole.












So far, so good, Mr Clever. How are you going to remove the bits left? I just knew I had been carrying these needle nosed pliers around Australia for a reason!













And for the final finish indicative of any professional, I had to remove all the rough edges (no, not from my brain, although that was happening apace) from the caps. 







At this point, my much loved but sometimes annoyingly sceptical spouse, suggested that before I fitted the cloth covering it might be wise to check the bare pipe for fit.  My response of, "I was just about to do that", did not evoke what I would call a thoroughly convincing look. "Sure you were". A woman of such little faith!













Well, does it fit?  Yeeesss!.....a minor miracle for Marshie engineering.....just like a bought one, as the saying goes.






Now for the really important bit...the covering. I had very nattily (I thought) chosen a length of marine carpet which matched the strip on the floor of the van.  What I had not thought through was how hard this would be to screw to the pipe. I soon found out.








But first things first....roll the carpet piece around the pipe and cut to length.........and,










screw it onto the pipe.  Here is where I ran into serious trouble.  I knew the screws I had bought would go through a double thickness of this carpet. What I had overlooked was the fact that once they were in place they were so long the ends stood proud inside the diameter of the pipe and prevented it from being slid over the table leg.  Bugger!

More measuring (guessing?) and back to Bunnings. I now knew the screws had to be of a length between 10 and 15 mils.....no bigger no smaller. Ah, a packet of 12 mil techs...that should do the trick.





Back to the bench and the job at hand, only to discover that I could not hold and screw a double thickness of the material. Let's try securing one end first and see what happens. 
















With this done, it was a case of wrapping the carpet around to cover the first fix and cutting it off to size. Because this jolly stuff is so thick and tough, which is what we really wanted, it is very difficult to bend. I had to sacrifice quite a bit for the sake of pliability 










before drilling in the second row of screws.....myriads of them....this was not going to move no matter how cranky Max might get. I have seen him at work on his old pole, and I knew that any hint of weakness in this one would soon be exposed.















And the end result???? A bloody miracle, now christened Marshies' Marvel (you will note the position of the apostrophe....I have very generously included 'she of the occasional comment' on the pretence they were constructive!). 







But of course, then I realised......it was one thing to sit there smugly congratulating myself, but what did Max make of it??? That question was not answered for what I considered an interminably long time. Despite repeated introductory sessions, the Black Panther steadfastly ignored his new toy, for hour and hours. Given the speed with which he will push his way into any rarely opened hatch, all bristling curiosity, this was the last thing I had expected.

Finally, at about 2000 hours that evening, as I had all but given up hope, he attacked the post with a vengeance, and has done so ever since. Thanks Andy, I owe you! A happy cat and no more stubbed toes in the middle of the night.








And the old post.......a ceremonial dumping (in Perth).






Before leaving the subject of repairs and creativity, let me share just one final story with you, if for no other reason that to again demonstrate that this caravan lark is not all beer and skittles, and that 'Murphy' does ride with all of us.

On this occasion we were back in Esperance (after ten days at 'The Duke'...I'm getting there!) and were packing up to leave. I had noticed that one of the exterior hatch locks had become stiff, and was not engaging properly when the hatch was pushed shut.

Now, this is the sort of thing I would have previously left well alone, but emboldened I am sure by recent manual successes, I decided to remove the lock cover and see what I could do. What could be too hard about a door lock?

As the cover came off this 'simple' device, the wind caught the door and the lock components exploded in all directions. Three of its numerous bits are spring loaded, and, as we later discovered when trying to reassemble everything, these locks are obviously put together in the flat position, not upright as we were having to manage.




These are the components which had fallen out onto the ground. I was in a state of serious consternation. Apart from the fact that I had not had time to see how this all worked before everything was at my feet, I wasn't sure, after combing through the grass and dirt, that I had retrieved all the parts.









Well, I thought, there is only one thing to do.....take the cover off another lock, this time more carefully, and see how all this works. And tape the door open first.










Ho, ho!  'Great ideas at the time' and practical ineptitude are, I soon discovered, a recipe for disaster. Within no time at all, I had managed to spread the components of three locks far and wide. I was beaten and I knew it. No amount of bluff and bravado could cover the fact that I was totally out of my depth and that we had a potentially serious problem. We were leaving the next day and had two external hatches which wouldn't lock. "Lizzie....I need some help".

Without boring you with too much detail, suffice it to say that the means by which these locks function involves the interaction of several leavers, all spring loaded and all designed to fit into a very small space. We had no design sketch, and no idea of how these all fitted together. And I am completely devoid of any spacial concept skills!

On this occasion I cannot sing the praises of the co-pilot - come spacial engineer too loudly.  Liz was a wonder...she sat down and nutted out the way in which these levers had to fit. In the interim I had worked out where the springs had to go. The only problem was that everytime we tried to refit all the bits, gravity did its thing and the springs would fall straingt out.

And then, from some unknown recess of my brain, a flash of inspiration. I wonder if we can hold these springs in place with small blobs of blue tack? Indeed we could...it would appear that necessity is truly the mother of invention after all!





So, with trembling fingers and stuck on springs, I had another crack at putting these wretched locks back together. If this didn't work were were up that proverbial creek devoid of any means of propulsion. 





After a couple of false starts, I finally managed to reassemble the locks, all three of them, and they worked!  Our joint relief was palpable.....what a team effort....but we both knew we were still a very long way off thinking of starting a caravan repair business!

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