I work on medium-sized power electric systems (mostly in the few hundred kW-range), and have a strong aversion to being anywhere near our systems during first power-up.
Hence, I always carry a couple of pushbuttons and some 15m of cable in my toolkit - wiring them in parallel with the buttons normally starting the show, retreating, saying a brief prayer to the patron saint of electricians and starting up.
Did a system on a ship a few years ago, all set, me sitting in the corridor outside the drive suite and pressing the button closing the main contactor, only to be greeted by the tell-tale sound of a door being blown off its hinges and an arc forming. Oh.
Cue incredible light show on the bulkhead opposite the drive suite door; after a second of this, I come to my senses and figure the so-called arc safe contactor -well- isn't.
I push the button jury-rigged to cut power at the generator end, only to have nothing whatsoever happen. Oh oh.
Still arcing. I key my VHF to alert the engine room to kill the generator set and alert them to the fire getting started in the drive suite, only to be told in no uncertain terms to keep quiet as they were busy with an emergency.
Seconds later, ship goes black (and eerily quiet!) before the sound of boots running down the corridor as the emergency lights kick in.
I've never felt as relieved as I did when the firefighting crew later told me that I'd been most unlucky - a pump starter in the drive suite (not our delivery) had opted out of existence and had sooted down all of my precious kit.
It had blown up the very same moment I tried to start my equipment for the first time - and for a few minutes I was certain I had contributed to taking an investment in the several hundred million dollar range off-hire for however long it took to replace the damaged electronics.
Instead, the crew apologised profusely for having me come all the way to the wrong side of the planet only to see my delivery go up in flames not of my own making.
Priceless.
I'll remember the sound, the light and the smell - not to mention that sinking feeling - to the end of my days, though.
Hence, I always carry a couple of pushbuttons and some 15m of cable in my toolkit - wiring them in parallel with the buttons normally starting the show, retreating, saying a brief prayer to the patron saint of electricians and starting up.
Did a system on a ship a few years ago, all set, me sitting in the corridor outside the drive suite and pressing the button closing the main contactor, only to be greeted by the tell-tale sound of a door being blown off its hinges and an arc forming. Oh.
Cue incredible light show on the bulkhead opposite the drive suite door; after a second of this, I come to my senses and figure the so-called arc safe contactor -well- isn't.
I push the button jury-rigged to cut power at the generator end, only to have nothing whatsoever happen. Oh oh.
Still arcing. I key my VHF to alert the engine room to kill the generator set and alert them to the fire getting started in the drive suite, only to be told in no uncertain terms to keep quiet as they were busy with an emergency.
Seconds later, ship goes black (and eerily quiet!) before the sound of boots running down the corridor as the emergency lights kick in.
I've never felt as relieved as I did when the firefighting crew later told me that I'd been most unlucky - a pump starter in the drive suite (not our delivery) had opted out of existence and had sooted down all of my precious kit.
It had blown up the very same moment I tried to start my equipment for the first time - and for a few minutes I was certain I had contributed to taking an investment in the several hundred million dollar range off-hire for however long it took to replace the damaged electronics.
Instead, the crew apologised profusely for having me come all the way to the wrong side of the planet only to see my delivery go up in flames not of my own making.
Priceless.
I'll remember the sound, the light and the smell - not to mention that sinking feeling - to the end of my days, though.