When I first met Carl T, I was somewhat leery about the veracity of the
tales he told. Sure they were great stories, but it seemed a bit of a
stretch that one man could have that much luck, good and bad. Over time I came to realize he wasn't spinning tall tales. If anything he was holding
back. Today, some 17 years later, I have two drawers of a file cabinet
filled with Carl T stories, many of them personally witnessed. I have seen
him get bitten three times by poisonous snakes, seen him overpower countless steers and been amazed at some incredible shots made from the window of a moving truck, the seat of a four wheeler and the back of a horse.
Here's one that happened not long ago at the plant:
Sometimes, early in the morning when the house is quiet, I sit at the pc,
zoned out on connecting, adrift in the flotsam and jetsam of fractal nodes,
the ubermench residing in the tower beside me shudders. I can't think of a
better word to describe it. Not from a burst of data screaming down the
wires from the Great Web. Not from some internal belly-rumbling crunching
of binaries. They come when there's nothing going on, really. The shudders seem to come most often when I've been staring at the screen for a while, taken away on a tangent. Like a dog shaking water off its back, the whiz and whirr of the seizure begins at the big fellows cd head and travels down to the floppy at his feet. I'm not sure what it is, but I think I've got it, too.
There is another chapter in the continuing saga of Carl T. Monday morning, an operator reported smelling burnt cable insulation. After a few years in the front lines, Power Plant guys can identify the smells of a number of burning things. Burning electrical cable insulation is a smell that always means trouble. A 2400v ground alarm on 2B Bus soon identified the location. The bus had to be isolated and damn quick. Because this was one of two main power feeds to Unit #2, shelling out the equipment fed from 2B meant taking the unit to half load. While this seemed at the time a reasonable course of action, it was the beginning of a potentially deadly turn of events.
While the Plant Operators were jumping through their ass ranting and
ramping, fighting pressure and temperature, downstairs three electricians
had already approached the bus. Once the bus was stripped, a P.O. opened the UAT transformer feeding power to the unit from its own generator, then opened the Startup/Standby feed bringing in backup power from the switchyard. The Shift Supervisor yelled to the electricians that the bus was dead. The three, wearing only long sleeve fire retardant shirts and blue jeans, opened the doors to the UAT and S/S breakers. A small fire could be seen in the back of the UAT breaker cubicle.
Just then two members of the Fire Brigade arrive at the scene - Carl T and a fellow named Scott Seaquist, the plants resident weight lifting, Harley
riding, calf roping Industrial Athlete. Carl T told the electricians to
vacate most ricki tic, that bunker gear is needed to approach the bus. The
team had the latest and greatest in bunker gear and, fortunately, they took the time to put it on right. Carl T positioned himself directly in front of the UAT cubicle with Scott at his right elbow, both carrying ABC chemical fire extinguishers. They gave the blaze a quick shot and knocked it down. By this time two other members of the fire brigade arrived - Freddy Montelongo and Charlie Fuller, once a paid fireman, now a security guard and enthusiastic Fire Brigader.
Charlie took a position at Scott's right elbow while Freddy, unwisely
listening to an electrician, crawled to the side of the door frame to Carl
T's left, took his gloves off and began to unbolt the door. The fire
suddenly blazed up again. Another quick shot from the extinguishers knock it down. Freddy continued to unbolt the door.
Upstairs the Plant Operators continued to take load off the unit. By now
some 15 minutes have passed since the event began. A pod of management types have begun to converge. Unsure about the nature of the 2400v ground, a decision is made to go ahead and take the unit off line. The turbine was tripped, causing relays to trip the generator. The tripping of the generator was the final seemingly reasonable act in a series of unwise actions. When the generator breaker opened, the Startup/Standby transformers on both the 2A and 2B busses automatically closed back in to provide backup power. The 2B bus closed in on a phase-to-phase ground.
Carl T saw the blaze start to rise for the third time. He began to squeeze
down the extinguishers handle. He never got the shot off. When the S/S
closed in, the ensuing arc, in a time frame so close to instantaneous it's
not worth arguing about, hit upwards of 6000 degrees C, hotter than the face of the sun. A shock wave traveling at the speed of sound led the way, taking the partially unbolted door with it. The copper bus bars, ionized into a vapor by the heat and force of the arc, followed closely behind, then flame and superheated gasses.
The force of the shock wave lifted Carl off his feet and threw him about 8
feet into the closed doors of the 2A Bus behind him. He later recalled his
first reaction was to hold his breath and dip his head, putting the bottom
of his face shield against his chest. It was an act against instinct, an
action drilled in over years of training. It saved his life. When the arc
broke, later estimated to have lasted 3 to 5 cycles before finally clearing,
the area was blanketed in thick smoke. Carl T, feeling the bus behind him
and remembering his training, followed it away from the fire. If the
footprints up the back of Freddy's coat are any indication, he was in a bit
of a hurry. Scott caught the blast at an angle that propelled him away from the busses and into the clear. Charlie Fuller was knocked on his back. Scrambling to his feet, he ran full clip into an I-beam, knocking him on his back again and cracking his face shield in half. Charlie rolled over and dog crawled the rest of the way to safety. When he got into the alleyway, still on his hands and knees, the broken face shield was hanging down on each side of his helmet and his mustache was smoking.
Carl T got a Gulf Coast quality sunburn on the small portion of his face
that wasn't covered by his Nomex hood. Miraculously, everyone came through basically unscathed. Of course, Freddy has been complaining about back pain.
tales he told. Sure they were great stories, but it seemed a bit of a
stretch that one man could have that much luck, good and bad. Over time I came to realize he wasn't spinning tall tales. If anything he was holding
back. Today, some 17 years later, I have two drawers of a file cabinet
filled with Carl T stories, many of them personally witnessed. I have seen
him get bitten three times by poisonous snakes, seen him overpower countless steers and been amazed at some incredible shots made from the window of a moving truck, the seat of a four wheeler and the back of a horse.
Here's one that happened not long ago at the plant:
Sometimes, early in the morning when the house is quiet, I sit at the pc,
zoned out on connecting, adrift in the flotsam and jetsam of fractal nodes,
the ubermench residing in the tower beside me shudders. I can't think of a
better word to describe it. Not from a burst of data screaming down the
wires from the Great Web. Not from some internal belly-rumbling crunching
of binaries. They come when there's nothing going on, really. The shudders seem to come most often when I've been staring at the screen for a while, taken away on a tangent. Like a dog shaking water off its back, the whiz and whirr of the seizure begins at the big fellows cd head and travels down to the floppy at his feet. I'm not sure what it is, but I think I've got it, too.
There is another chapter in the continuing saga of Carl T. Monday morning, an operator reported smelling burnt cable insulation. After a few years in the front lines, Power Plant guys can identify the smells of a number of burning things. Burning electrical cable insulation is a smell that always means trouble. A 2400v ground alarm on 2B Bus soon identified the location. The bus had to be isolated and damn quick. Because this was one of two main power feeds to Unit #2, shelling out the equipment fed from 2B meant taking the unit to half load. While this seemed at the time a reasonable course of action, it was the beginning of a potentially deadly turn of events.
While the Plant Operators were jumping through their ass ranting and
ramping, fighting pressure and temperature, downstairs three electricians
had already approached the bus. Once the bus was stripped, a P.O. opened the UAT transformer feeding power to the unit from its own generator, then opened the Startup/Standby feed bringing in backup power from the switchyard. The Shift Supervisor yelled to the electricians that the bus was dead. The three, wearing only long sleeve fire retardant shirts and blue jeans, opened the doors to the UAT and S/S breakers. A small fire could be seen in the back of the UAT breaker cubicle.
Just then two members of the Fire Brigade arrive at the scene - Carl T and a fellow named Scott Seaquist, the plants resident weight lifting, Harley
riding, calf roping Industrial Athlete. Carl T told the electricians to
vacate most ricki tic, that bunker gear is needed to approach the bus. The
team had the latest and greatest in bunker gear and, fortunately, they took the time to put it on right. Carl T positioned himself directly in front of the UAT cubicle with Scott at his right elbow, both carrying ABC chemical fire extinguishers. They gave the blaze a quick shot and knocked it down. By this time two other members of the fire brigade arrived - Freddy Montelongo and Charlie Fuller, once a paid fireman, now a security guard and enthusiastic Fire Brigader.
Charlie took a position at Scott's right elbow while Freddy, unwisely
listening to an electrician, crawled to the side of the door frame to Carl
T's left, took his gloves off and began to unbolt the door. The fire
suddenly blazed up again. Another quick shot from the extinguishers knock it down. Freddy continued to unbolt the door.
Upstairs the Plant Operators continued to take load off the unit. By now
some 15 minutes have passed since the event began. A pod of management types have begun to converge. Unsure about the nature of the 2400v ground, a decision is made to go ahead and take the unit off line. The turbine was tripped, causing relays to trip the generator. The tripping of the generator was the final seemingly reasonable act in a series of unwise actions. When the generator breaker opened, the Startup/Standby transformers on both the 2A and 2B busses automatically closed back in to provide backup power. The 2B bus closed in on a phase-to-phase ground.
Carl T saw the blaze start to rise for the third time. He began to squeeze
down the extinguishers handle. He never got the shot off. When the S/S
closed in, the ensuing arc, in a time frame so close to instantaneous it's
not worth arguing about, hit upwards of 6000 degrees C, hotter than the face of the sun. A shock wave traveling at the speed of sound led the way, taking the partially unbolted door with it. The copper bus bars, ionized into a vapor by the heat and force of the arc, followed closely behind, then flame and superheated gasses.
The force of the shock wave lifted Carl off his feet and threw him about 8
feet into the closed doors of the 2A Bus behind him. He later recalled his
first reaction was to hold his breath and dip his head, putting the bottom
of his face shield against his chest. It was an act against instinct, an
action drilled in over years of training. It saved his life. When the arc
broke, later estimated to have lasted 3 to 5 cycles before finally clearing,
the area was blanketed in thick smoke. Carl T, feeling the bus behind him
and remembering his training, followed it away from the fire. If the
footprints up the back of Freddy's coat are any indication, he was in a bit
of a hurry. Scott caught the blast at an angle that propelled him away from the busses and into the clear. Charlie Fuller was knocked on his back. Scrambling to his feet, he ran full clip into an I-beam, knocking him on his back again and cracking his face shield in half. Charlie rolled over and dog crawled the rest of the way to safety. When he got into the alleyway, still on his hands and knees, the broken face shield was hanging down on each side of his helmet and his mustache was smoking.
Carl T got a Gulf Coast quality sunburn on the small portion of his face
that wasn't covered by his Nomex hood. Miraculously, everyone came through basically unscathed. Of course, Freddy has been complaining about back pain.
