I don't have any extra special new material tonight, except for my unofficial promotion to instrument assembly tech - watch out Jar Jar! I thought that I would go back to my tales of Captain Fantastic. Tonight, I will explore the tale of the dew point control system.
Early in my time at the Biotech Mecca, the Captain had chosen a dispenser to put the samples into the sample holders. Given the fact that the sample is a very small amount of liquid, and the holder has a whole lot of tiny holes, this is not a trivial feat. The Captain knew what he wanted and bought two of them with confidence. That's a quarter of a million dollars spent without any real qualification to see if it would work. In fact, after two or three man years of effort, we determined that the technology was not suitable, and it was a dumb idea that should have never gotten off of the ground. The crappy design of the dispenser itself isn't what I want to talk about though.
The Captain was charged with finding a way to deal with the fact that it took so long to dispense the whopping 1/2ml of liquid (in 5 million individual drops) that the first wells were completely dried out before the last wells were even dispensed. There is a technique for dealing with this that is well known. If you balance the sample temperature and humidity, you can keep the water from evaporating. Most companies include a dew point controller. The people who made this device thought that keeping the sample hydrated was a dumb idea and did neither. We would have to add that capability to the dispenser. Captain Fantastic, however didn't want to void the warranty by adding water. Apparently, adding a thermoelectric cooler and control electronics, a PLC, some wiring, and a new sample stage would have no effect on the warranty.
The first step was to find a PLC. The only requirements were that it had to be able to interpret the data from the humidity sensor and, if possible, fit in the already full dispenser chassis. Never one to miss the critical requirements, Captain Fantastic found a PLC that fit into the chassis. Apparently, the fact that the sensor response was logarithmic, and the PLC had no log function did not matter.
The Captain contracted his favorite consultant to write the code. Unfortunately, Smee had no idea how to program the PLC. So, she hired a consultant to do the programming for her. Unfortunately, the consultant couldn't figure out how to get the communications to the thermoelectric controller to work, so he hired another consultant to do that work for him. So... the Captain hired a consultant, who hired a consultant, who hired a consultant. This seemed a bit odd to me, but he assured me that it was "the Silicon Valley Way."
And then, there was the hardware. For several weeks the Captain had the mechanical designer (Buffalo Bill's predecessor - and successor) design parts and have them made overnight, only to find that they still didn't fit the next day, and repeat the cycle. Our best machine shops will occasionally do us a favor and turn parts around in a couple of days. I wouldn't dream of asking a shop to turn multiple pieces around over night. I would be even less inclined to go back to them the next day and admit that I screwed up and asked for something that was just wrong. And, can you please forsake your family again tonight to make even more parts that will just be scrapped tomorrow morning anyway. Not so for the Captain. The customer is always right, even when he is a stupid jackass.
Eventually, the modified dispenser was due to ship. This was after I suggested to the electrical engineer that the reason why he kept blowing up thermoelectric coolers was because he was running a 12V part at 24V. Apparently, the Captain didn't read the package before handing the specs to the electrical engineer. Who would have figured.
We shipped out the dispenser (to a test sight on the other side of the continent), and the Mad Man from Down South was sent to install it. I guess he drew the short straw. He took some very lovely pictures of the device with things sticking up at funny angles. He commented on how the thing was put together and was stunned that it had worked at all. The Captain was very quick to site "tampering". Really? The VP of engineering went to our first alpha site and screwed with the device? What had he to gain? I don't know, but Captain Fantastic stuck to his guns.
When the Mad Man from Down South came back armed with pictures and props, the story changed. Then, it was blamed on "high frequency vibrations during shipping that vibrated all of the pieces apart". Really? I don't think that I will ever fly again. What keeps all of the bolts from falling out of the plane? Apparently, it's very common. I must admit that I have never hear of such a thing, and I coordinated service for what was possibly the world's most (strike that... second most) ill conceived device. Those things failed in may ways, but they never once failed because the bolts fell out during air travel. I have heard however, that the change in pressure during the flight can screw up pressure sensors. I find that one only slightly more plausible.
After several weeks of the Captain ordering more parts overnight and visiting the customer site himself (on a one-way ticket), the dew point control system kind of worked. Not that it mattered, the dispenser was unable to successfully put the liquid in the holes anyway.
The Mad Man called Captain fantastic a liar. This hurt the Captain's feelings. Nothing hurts like the truth... so they say.
Showing posts with label Smee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Smee. Show all posts
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
Captain Fantastic
I was cleaning out some boxes lying around my cubicle and I stumbled upon a couple of old business cards. They have forced me to come about to starting the story of one of the most interesting characters to have graced the halls of the Biotech Mecca.
I have not yet written about the "engineer" known as Captain Fantastic because I have been unsure regarding where to begin. On the surface the Captain was not only likable, but also capable and creative. Unfortunately, that outward appearance was merely the facade of one who was willing to use flattery, deceit and antagonism to cover up his inability to get the job done. I realize that this judgment seems a wee bit harsh, but alas, I was forced to draw this conclusion based on the observations of nearly a full year.
The story starts after I interviewed to go work at the Biotech Mecca, but before I actually started. (Remembering that the intervening period was nearly eight months.) The Mad Man (former VP of Engineering) had hired the Sarcastic Brit, who had decided that he was tired of trying to find the proverbial fifth leg of the cat.
The former CTO (remember the guy who can't engineer his way out of a wet paper bag with a chain saw?) informed the Mad Man that he had "a really good guy" coming over for an interview. This guy would be the Director of Engineering, and would be starting immediately. By the way, he would be arriving in about ten minutes and you don't need to see his resume. Really?
Needless to say, the job interview was somewhat pointless. Captain Fantastic was in the door. Now, we fast forward to my first week of work. I had just towed a trailer across the continent in my poor old Nissan. My child had screamed the whole way. I was living in a hotel and had the movers calling daily, threatening to drop my family's belongings on the street if I didn't have a place to live by the time the truck arrived in town with our stuff. Needless to say, I was not at my best. My first task was to help Captain Fantastic try to find various pieces of strange equipment: a miniature vacuum forming machine, a platen press... I forget the others. I had never used any of this crap before. I certainly had no idea of where to find it, or even what he wanted it for.
At the end of the first week, my boss (the Mad Man from down south) informed me that Captain Fantastic had approached him to let him know that I was slow. I think that the Mad Man was more upset about it than I was. He had carefully recruited me from Canada, where I had worked for him for three years. He was pretty sure that I had not suffered from massive brain damage in the intervening time, and hence was probably not slow. At least one person had given me a vote of confidence.
The Captain spoke constantly of "when I had my company", which was apparently a very successful automation company, which he claimed he sold because it was just too much work. I often wondered why a guy who had operated and sold a successful company was driving a Honda Civic of 10+ years vintage. Perhaps 1998 was a particularly good year for Civics. Perhaps he had other vices than cars. I discovered that it certainly wasn't clothing - between the hawaiian shirts and the mohair suit.
One thing the captain had in spades was ready consultants. There was the electronics guy (Miracle FET) with "25 years experience", which the Sarcastic Brit soon revised to "F**king it up for 25 years in Silicon Valley. Miracle FET is worth a couple of postings on his own though, so I will save that for later. There was the Captain's sidekick, Smee, who later got a job teaching statistics at a local university. (Made all the more scary because I tried to explain some simple stats to her - only to be told that I was pontificating). Of course, this consultant wasn't up to the job she was given, and had to hire her own consultant to help out. I believe that her consultant actually brought in a consultant of his own as well. Again, this project is worth it's own post, or perhaps even two or three of them.
But... I digress.
After a short period of time, the Mad Man decided to split the project team into two sub teams: one doing optics, and the other working on the mechanics. In the interest of expediency, he decided that I would work with him on the optics, leaving the Sarcastic Brit to work with Captain Fantastic. The Sarcastic Brit seemed a little bit embittered by this. I later found out it was because he had already caught Captain Fantastic passing the Sarcastic Brit's ideas off as his own.
One of my first tasks was design of filter wheels. I started out with a nice simple design that had a couple of screws with washers to hold in the filters. Captain Fantastic told me that it was very poor practice to do that. You had to minimize the number of parts in the BOM. Those bolts and screws are just extra items in the Bill of Materials. They need to be removed. The proper way to do it is to machine springs into the aluminum. Presto - the filters are held in place and you only have one part in the Bill of Materials. I was dubious. He offered to model it up in Solid Works for me to show me how it was done. Perhaps he had a low opinion of me, but at least he was willing to teach me from his great fount of knowledge.
Unfortunately, he was much too busy to help me right then, but I dutifully followed his advice (being a Director and all) and tried to come up with a design with those machined springs. That design (the concept - not the implementation) has been the source of much mocking from every mechanical design guy that has walked in the door since. Apparently, that was only the way it was done in his head.
Next, we move on to the limit switches. I had selected nice, inexpensive ($6) limit switches. They were of a type that I had used before in other projects without incident. Captain Fantastic informed me that they would not work. He would know, afterall, he routinely bolted the limit switches onto instruments as they were going onto the truck. He picked out better switches. I believe he meant easier to use. I looked a the price - yikes, they were $60 each. Then, I did a quick tally: 11 limit switches in the instrument. I decided that it was time the Captain learned to use the cheap switches. Fortunately, the Mad Man and the Sarcastic Brit saw things my way.
Next, we move on to the selection of the motor. We had a problem with "ringing" of the filter wheel on the motor. Oddly enough, the wheel, coupled with the electromagnetic forces of the stepper motor makes a very nice pendulum. The Captain told me that I didn't understand. I told him that if we increased the torque of the motor the spring constant would go up, making the frequency of the oscillations higher and the amplitude lower. I had calculations that modled things, and the numbers worked. He still insisted that I had no clue. I reminded him that I have a degree in physics and may have some clue about how pendulums work. He told me that he had a three year degree (where I come from real degrees take four years) in mathematics from Santa Clara University. That's sort of like Stanford, right? Apparently I knew nothing.
Even after I switched to a higher powered motor and completely solved the problem, he insisted that the filter wheel needed to be redesigned. It just didn't work. I'm not sure how. It moved the filters into position and held them there. I think that sums up the functional requirements for a filter wheel quite nicely.
Now that I have started, there is so much to write about. There is "the drawer", that delayed the instrument prototype for three months. There is the "inconceivable" failure of the pressure sensitive adhesive, begging the draftsman to alter drawing dates, the accusations of sabotage, the lies, the threats, the yelling, the screaming, the backstabbing. Sorry... got out of control there. Looks like I have plenty of material for the next posting or 20.
By the way, you may want to check out this Captain Fantastic video from Do Not Adjust Your Set.
I have not yet written about the "engineer" known as Captain Fantastic because I have been unsure regarding where to begin. On the surface the Captain was not only likable, but also capable and creative. Unfortunately, that outward appearance was merely the facade of one who was willing to use flattery, deceit and antagonism to cover up his inability to get the job done. I realize that this judgment seems a wee bit harsh, but alas, I was forced to draw this conclusion based on the observations of nearly a full year.
The story starts after I interviewed to go work at the Biotech Mecca, but before I actually started. (Remembering that the intervening period was nearly eight months.) The Mad Man (former VP of Engineering) had hired the Sarcastic Brit, who had decided that he was tired of trying to find the proverbial fifth leg of the cat.
The former CTO (remember the guy who can't engineer his way out of a wet paper bag with a chain saw?) informed the Mad Man that he had "a really good guy" coming over for an interview. This guy would be the Director of Engineering, and would be starting immediately. By the way, he would be arriving in about ten minutes and you don't need to see his resume. Really?
Needless to say, the job interview was somewhat pointless. Captain Fantastic was in the door. Now, we fast forward to my first week of work. I had just towed a trailer across the continent in my poor old Nissan. My child had screamed the whole way. I was living in a hotel and had the movers calling daily, threatening to drop my family's belongings on the street if I didn't have a place to live by the time the truck arrived in town with our stuff. Needless to say, I was not at my best. My first task was to help Captain Fantastic try to find various pieces of strange equipment: a miniature vacuum forming machine, a platen press... I forget the others. I had never used any of this crap before. I certainly had no idea of where to find it, or even what he wanted it for.
At the end of the first week, my boss (the Mad Man from down south) informed me that Captain Fantastic had approached him to let him know that I was slow. I think that the Mad Man was more upset about it than I was. He had carefully recruited me from Canada, where I had worked for him for three years. He was pretty sure that I had not suffered from massive brain damage in the intervening time, and hence was probably not slow. At least one person had given me a vote of confidence.
The Captain spoke constantly of "when I had my company", which was apparently a very successful automation company, which he claimed he sold because it was just too much work. I often wondered why a guy who had operated and sold a successful company was driving a Honda Civic of 10+ years vintage. Perhaps 1998 was a particularly good year for Civics. Perhaps he had other vices than cars. I discovered that it certainly wasn't clothing - between the hawaiian shirts and the mohair suit.
One thing the captain had in spades was ready consultants. There was the electronics guy (Miracle FET) with "25 years experience", which the Sarcastic Brit soon revised to "F**king it up for 25 years in Silicon Valley. Miracle FET is worth a couple of postings on his own though, so I will save that for later. There was the Captain's sidekick, Smee, who later got a job teaching statistics at a local university. (Made all the more scary because I tried to explain some simple stats to her - only to be told that I was pontificating). Of course, this consultant wasn't up to the job she was given, and had to hire her own consultant to help out. I believe that her consultant actually brought in a consultant of his own as well. Again, this project is worth it's own post, or perhaps even two or three of them.
But... I digress.
After a short period of time, the Mad Man decided to split the project team into two sub teams: one doing optics, and the other working on the mechanics. In the interest of expediency, he decided that I would work with him on the optics, leaving the Sarcastic Brit to work with Captain Fantastic. The Sarcastic Brit seemed a little bit embittered by this. I later found out it was because he had already caught Captain Fantastic passing the Sarcastic Brit's ideas off as his own.
One of my first tasks was design of filter wheels. I started out with a nice simple design that had a couple of screws with washers to hold in the filters. Captain Fantastic told me that it was very poor practice to do that. You had to minimize the number of parts in the BOM. Those bolts and screws are just extra items in the Bill of Materials. They need to be removed. The proper way to do it is to machine springs into the aluminum. Presto - the filters are held in place and you only have one part in the Bill of Materials. I was dubious. He offered to model it up in Solid Works for me to show me how it was done. Perhaps he had a low opinion of me, but at least he was willing to teach me from his great fount of knowledge.
Unfortunately, he was much too busy to help me right then, but I dutifully followed his advice (being a Director and all) and tried to come up with a design with those machined springs. That design (the concept - not the implementation) has been the source of much mocking from every mechanical design guy that has walked in the door since. Apparently, that was only the way it was done in his head.
Next, we move on to the limit switches. I had selected nice, inexpensive ($6) limit switches. They were of a type that I had used before in other projects without incident. Captain Fantastic informed me that they would not work. He would know, afterall, he routinely bolted the limit switches onto instruments as they were going onto the truck. He picked out better switches. I believe he meant easier to use. I looked a the price - yikes, they were $60 each. Then, I did a quick tally: 11 limit switches in the instrument. I decided that it was time the Captain learned to use the cheap switches. Fortunately, the Mad Man and the Sarcastic Brit saw things my way.
Next, we move on to the selection of the motor. We had a problem with "ringing" of the filter wheel on the motor. Oddly enough, the wheel, coupled with the electromagnetic forces of the stepper motor makes a very nice pendulum. The Captain told me that I didn't understand. I told him that if we increased the torque of the motor the spring constant would go up, making the frequency of the oscillations higher and the amplitude lower. I had calculations that modled things, and the numbers worked. He still insisted that I had no clue. I reminded him that I have a degree in physics and may have some clue about how pendulums work. He told me that he had a three year degree (where I come from real degrees take four years) in mathematics from Santa Clara University. That's sort of like Stanford, right? Apparently I knew nothing.
Even after I switched to a higher powered motor and completely solved the problem, he insisted that the filter wheel needed to be redesigned. It just didn't work. I'm not sure how. It moved the filters into position and held them there. I think that sums up the functional requirements for a filter wheel quite nicely.
Now that I have started, there is so much to write about. There is "the drawer", that delayed the instrument prototype for three months. There is the "inconceivable" failure of the pressure sensitive adhesive, begging the draftsman to alter drawing dates, the accusations of sabotage, the lies, the threats, the yelling, the screaming, the backstabbing. Sorry... got out of control there. Looks like I have plenty of material for the next posting or 20.
By the way, you may want to check out this Captain Fantastic video from Do Not Adjust Your Set.
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