spongebob
1st July 2009, 12:21
Warming through,
I dream a lot these days nothing exciting, nothing grim, rather tedious at times.
Many of the dreams seem to be flashbacks to earlier days, even some involving my father at the age that I remember him although I am now older than him in these meetings.
Funnily enough Ship’s Nostalgia seldom features, perhaps because I do a lot of the dreaming while reading or posting on the various threads but the other night my dream was that I was out mowing the lawns when my partner came out to say “Ring Mr. Douglas, he wants you to join a ship as soon as possible”
Now Mr. Douglas was the Assistant superintending Engineer of the Union Co in Auckland who used to call from time to time so I replied “Rubbish, I stopped working for him 50 years ago, I’m too old for that caper.” She shrugged her shoulders and walked away and the next moment I awoke struggling with the blankets and in a lather about the seeming reality of it all.
After lying there and thinking about it for a moment I asked myself, are you really past it? Could you really go back on board an old ship and know what to do to ready the engine room for sea?
So to sort it out and now fully awake I set myself the mind task of doing the job.
I chose the little banana boat Navua, my favourite ship, with her 5 cylinder 1500 hp trunk piston Sulzer engine and on arrival at the dockside in the early hours of the morning she was like the Marie Celeste, abandoned by all living souls but with shore power connected there were at lest a few glimmering lights, enough for me to find my way down on to the engine room plates to start the job of enlivening the ship’s propulsion ready for sea.
I walked around in the dim light of the essential shore power illumination, every thing was as I remembered it, ship shape and Bristol fashion as they say so first step, start a generator but this move was stymied by almost empty air receivers.
OK, start the sanitary pump to get some water up top and some coolant for the emergency single cylinder diesel driven air compressor. A few turns on the crank handle with the valve lifter on then drop it to be rewarded with the clonking sound of the engine bursting into life and to plug away at slowly topping up the air start receivers.
What next? A wander around the engine room to refresh my memory after 50 years, turning gear in, check, TG notice hung over the telegraph face, oil in the sight glass lubricators, generator sump levels OK, close up lube oil and fuel oil purifiers ready to run, wander down the tunnel to check the stern tube gland, a few drips, mental note to nip up later, check all skin fitting suction and OB discharge valves for correct settings. Check, check, check.
We now have enough air pressure so off with the single lung banger and connect air to No 2 generator, use the semi-rotary oil pump to pressurize the bearings and chuff we are away as the gene surges into life.
Connect generator cooling to the main engine jacket for warming through then up to the switch board to pull down the breaker to connect the ship’s power and trip the shore power supply.
The Ammeter barely lifts off its zero stop, must get some load from somewhere so on with the main air compressor motor, the fuel oil purifier to top up the port and starboard daily use tanks, the lube oil purifier drawing oil from the header tank with its outflow heater .
A big improvement in load but still not enough, what I need is for the AB’s on deck to start topping the ship’s gear, to start using those Clark Chapman winches, for some one to ask for water on deck via the fire pump but there is no one there.
Feel the main engine jacket, it’s warmer than a cold bum but not much , the compressor has finished its job so blow down the receivers for another fill, first time I have ever had start air to waste.
Time to start a main lube oil circulating pump and to start the turning gear for a rev or two, give a few cranks on the lubricator cam shaft to dribble a bit of oil to the liners, walk along the tops with the indicator cocks open and feel the waft of air being discharged with the palm of the hand, is it dry, is there no sign of moisture? All OK so out with the turning gear, remove the sign off the telegraph, and replace it with “Gen. Heat on ME” sign
While every thing is going nicely put the power on to the steering gear then go down the tunnel with a big ring spanner to nip up that stern gland stuffing box, for me this takes a bit of courage as I tend to be claustrophobic and although I have related this story before, I think back to another time on this same ship.
Quote
We were set down to sail from Adelaide at 4 pm and the engine room watch started at noon.
Cargo was still being worked using the ship’s gear so I directed the generators cooling water to circulate through the main engine to warm through ready for sea and then set about all the other tasks to get ready to sail.
My motorman arrived late on watch and rather drunk so I gave him the option of going up stairs to find a replacement willing to take his place otherwise he was on report. He disappeared and I went down the propeller shaft tunnel to make the usual checks, stern gland etc, and on attempting to go back to the engine room found the water tight door shut. It turned out that the wayward motorman had few friends as none of the other watch keepers were prepared to take his place so he returned to the plates and on finding me down the tunnel made the spur of the moment decision to lock me in. He then sat down in a corner and went to sleep.
Now I am claustrophobic mainly in tight places but I widened my horizons in this direction when I realized that the second and fourth engineers were still ashore and although the chief was in his cabin he had no reason to enter the engine room. My first effort to get out via the tunnel escape ladder was thwarted by the door being locked while in port to deter stowaways etc and the keys were in the engine room desk.
OK I decided to use a handy hammer to bang on the door, but no response. Next I tried banging out a deliberate SOS code with the hammer on both tunnel access doors, the ship’s hull, the bulkhead, the deck head above which was the no 4 hold floor and any surface that may transmit a sound but no, nobody heard it. About 3 pm the generators had heated the main engine jacket to the limit temperature and the audible alarms started to sound, not that I could hear them but the now back on board second engineer did and after getting tired of waiting for me to rectify the problem came down, realized the position and release me.
Scary indeed being locked in a big steel box and fearing what the drunk outside might be up to.
Unquote.
In this imaginary preparation now going on in my mind I recall this incident and although I seem to be the only man on board I take the precaution of removing the handle off the rack pinion and taking it with me.
I manage to get about three quarters of a turn on the gland nuts, the drips slow down by half. Nip up the tunnel escape to after deck ladder to look in at the steering gear pumps and motors humming away all OK and it’s back to the engine room at a pace.
The main engine is now warming through at a better rate, the lube oil is warmer, the daily use fuel tanks are full, all the ballast, fresh water and fuel and lube tanks have been sounded via that pneumatic pump sounding device that I cannot remember the name of and logged, the log book filled in as necessary
What else do I need to do?
Start a stand-by generator, all necessary circulating pumps, be ready to take the generator heat off the main engine, put the start air on the main engine and wait for the rest of the engine room standby team to arrive and for the telegraph to jangle
There is a jangle but it is my alarm clock telling me that it is 6 am and time to get up for this weeks golf day
I snap out of it but as I shave and shower I wonder what I had forgotten, what cardinal sin had I committed as a marine engineer, even 50 years away from the job is not really an excuse after taking the job on
Tell me, where have I stuffed up?
Bob,
I dream a lot these days nothing exciting, nothing grim, rather tedious at times.
Many of the dreams seem to be flashbacks to earlier days, even some involving my father at the age that I remember him although I am now older than him in these meetings.
Funnily enough Ship’s Nostalgia seldom features, perhaps because I do a lot of the dreaming while reading or posting on the various threads but the other night my dream was that I was out mowing the lawns when my partner came out to say “Ring Mr. Douglas, he wants you to join a ship as soon as possible”
Now Mr. Douglas was the Assistant superintending Engineer of the Union Co in Auckland who used to call from time to time so I replied “Rubbish, I stopped working for him 50 years ago, I’m too old for that caper.” She shrugged her shoulders and walked away and the next moment I awoke struggling with the blankets and in a lather about the seeming reality of it all.
After lying there and thinking about it for a moment I asked myself, are you really past it? Could you really go back on board an old ship and know what to do to ready the engine room for sea?
So to sort it out and now fully awake I set myself the mind task of doing the job.
I chose the little banana boat Navua, my favourite ship, with her 5 cylinder 1500 hp trunk piston Sulzer engine and on arrival at the dockside in the early hours of the morning she was like the Marie Celeste, abandoned by all living souls but with shore power connected there were at lest a few glimmering lights, enough for me to find my way down on to the engine room plates to start the job of enlivening the ship’s propulsion ready for sea.
I walked around in the dim light of the essential shore power illumination, every thing was as I remembered it, ship shape and Bristol fashion as they say so first step, start a generator but this move was stymied by almost empty air receivers.
OK, start the sanitary pump to get some water up top and some coolant for the emergency single cylinder diesel driven air compressor. A few turns on the crank handle with the valve lifter on then drop it to be rewarded with the clonking sound of the engine bursting into life and to plug away at slowly topping up the air start receivers.
What next? A wander around the engine room to refresh my memory after 50 years, turning gear in, check, TG notice hung over the telegraph face, oil in the sight glass lubricators, generator sump levels OK, close up lube oil and fuel oil purifiers ready to run, wander down the tunnel to check the stern tube gland, a few drips, mental note to nip up later, check all skin fitting suction and OB discharge valves for correct settings. Check, check, check.
We now have enough air pressure so off with the single lung banger and connect air to No 2 generator, use the semi-rotary oil pump to pressurize the bearings and chuff we are away as the gene surges into life.
Connect generator cooling to the main engine jacket for warming through then up to the switch board to pull down the breaker to connect the ship’s power and trip the shore power supply.
The Ammeter barely lifts off its zero stop, must get some load from somewhere so on with the main air compressor motor, the fuel oil purifier to top up the port and starboard daily use tanks, the lube oil purifier drawing oil from the header tank with its outflow heater .
A big improvement in load but still not enough, what I need is for the AB’s on deck to start topping the ship’s gear, to start using those Clark Chapman winches, for some one to ask for water on deck via the fire pump but there is no one there.
Feel the main engine jacket, it’s warmer than a cold bum but not much , the compressor has finished its job so blow down the receivers for another fill, first time I have ever had start air to waste.
Time to start a main lube oil circulating pump and to start the turning gear for a rev or two, give a few cranks on the lubricator cam shaft to dribble a bit of oil to the liners, walk along the tops with the indicator cocks open and feel the waft of air being discharged with the palm of the hand, is it dry, is there no sign of moisture? All OK so out with the turning gear, remove the sign off the telegraph, and replace it with “Gen. Heat on ME” sign
While every thing is going nicely put the power on to the steering gear then go down the tunnel with a big ring spanner to nip up that stern gland stuffing box, for me this takes a bit of courage as I tend to be claustrophobic and although I have related this story before, I think back to another time on this same ship.
Quote
We were set down to sail from Adelaide at 4 pm and the engine room watch started at noon.
Cargo was still being worked using the ship’s gear so I directed the generators cooling water to circulate through the main engine to warm through ready for sea and then set about all the other tasks to get ready to sail.
My motorman arrived late on watch and rather drunk so I gave him the option of going up stairs to find a replacement willing to take his place otherwise he was on report. He disappeared and I went down the propeller shaft tunnel to make the usual checks, stern gland etc, and on attempting to go back to the engine room found the water tight door shut. It turned out that the wayward motorman had few friends as none of the other watch keepers were prepared to take his place so he returned to the plates and on finding me down the tunnel made the spur of the moment decision to lock me in. He then sat down in a corner and went to sleep.
Now I am claustrophobic mainly in tight places but I widened my horizons in this direction when I realized that the second and fourth engineers were still ashore and although the chief was in his cabin he had no reason to enter the engine room. My first effort to get out via the tunnel escape ladder was thwarted by the door being locked while in port to deter stowaways etc and the keys were in the engine room desk.
OK I decided to use a handy hammer to bang on the door, but no response. Next I tried banging out a deliberate SOS code with the hammer on both tunnel access doors, the ship’s hull, the bulkhead, the deck head above which was the no 4 hold floor and any surface that may transmit a sound but no, nobody heard it. About 3 pm the generators had heated the main engine jacket to the limit temperature and the audible alarms started to sound, not that I could hear them but the now back on board second engineer did and after getting tired of waiting for me to rectify the problem came down, realized the position and release me.
Scary indeed being locked in a big steel box and fearing what the drunk outside might be up to.
Unquote.
In this imaginary preparation now going on in my mind I recall this incident and although I seem to be the only man on board I take the precaution of removing the handle off the rack pinion and taking it with me.
I manage to get about three quarters of a turn on the gland nuts, the drips slow down by half. Nip up the tunnel escape to after deck ladder to look in at the steering gear pumps and motors humming away all OK and it’s back to the engine room at a pace.
The main engine is now warming through at a better rate, the lube oil is warmer, the daily use fuel tanks are full, all the ballast, fresh water and fuel and lube tanks have been sounded via that pneumatic pump sounding device that I cannot remember the name of and logged, the log book filled in as necessary
What else do I need to do?
Start a stand-by generator, all necessary circulating pumps, be ready to take the generator heat off the main engine, put the start air on the main engine and wait for the rest of the engine room standby team to arrive and for the telegraph to jangle
There is a jangle but it is my alarm clock telling me that it is 6 am and time to get up for this weeks golf day
I snap out of it but as I shave and shower I wonder what I had forgotten, what cardinal sin had I committed as a marine engineer, even 50 years away from the job is not really an excuse after taking the job on
Tell me, where have I stuffed up?
Bob,