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Okay, so the task of the evening is to lay in a new harness from F-42 forward into F-38, eventually ending up in F-99 and into the pressure panel F-109, get it clamped and tied for day shift. Easy enough but first, finish up the op's checks on the previous aircraft so we can sell it back to the unit; shouldn't take long, there's only a couple. Famous last words.
I get the crew organized sending the new guy over to start opening all the panels on the right side. Now, this guy isn't the sharpest I've ever had working for me (retired as a Tech after 21 years) but hey, you take what you can get. I watch as he starts gathering his stuff, see him grab his drill and I stop him, tell him "do it with a speed handle". He gives me shit about it and I remind him he's stripped out at least one Tridair on the last two jets he's worked and the reason is because of the drill.."SO USE THE SPEED HANDLE!" Great, now I've got a pissed off tech. Dah well, he'll get over it. Now, on to the task at hand.
Check the forms and our workbook to make certain I can put power on, no problems there so we start with the checks. First thing I notice is the HARS is deader than a stone; HMMMM, I've seen this one before. I pull up the ILS panel and the HARS panel to check the connector tags. PHHHHT, one tag missing, the other totally unreadable. Back to the shop to dig out the wire numbers and sure enough, the connectors are swapped. Three hours later, the "quick" op's checks are done, do the paperwork and a tool inventory, close up the jet..now on to the next aircraft..two hours later than I planned..screw it, didn't want to take first break anyway.
Fast forward to the original task which was to lay in the new harness. As usual, all the clamps are too small, including the one that sits behind the CADC Pitot/Static lines on the F-40/F-42 bulkhead. Pull the jungle of Pitot/Static lines in F-40 so I can get at that sumbitch of a clamp, grab my screwdriver and 7/32 ignition wrench and start pulling the screw and the nut. You really can't see the nut, it's all by feel but you can usually get the box end of the wrench on it..OOPS, drop the wrench..no biggie, it can't go anywhere, or so I thought. A half hour later, using a mirror, flashlight, magnet and anything else in my tool box that could possibly be of use, I give up and call one of the other techs over to look for it. He doesn't have any more luck than I do. @#$%@..where the @#%@ could that @#$E%ing wrench be? Out of desperation, I go to the OTHER side of the aircraft, open F-103, start fishing with my magnet. Finally, I hear the "click" of the magnet connecting with something. I look where the magnet is pointing, or at least where I think it's pointing because it's way behind a bunch of wire bundles and antenna cables..and it's almost into F-99. I carefully pull the magnet back..nothing. Do it again, hear the click, pull it back..nothing. S$#t! Start pulling stuff out of the compartment so I can get my hand in there..yup, I can get my finger on it and it's caught between wire bundles..really push to see if I can actually wrap my fingers around it and feel pain..reflex, quickly pull my hand back slicing it open on a hidden zip tie tail..great, now I'm dripping blood all over the place. Finally, after almost an hour of cat and mouse with the magnet, the wrench drops to the compartment floor. By now it's dinner time and I'm WAY behind..BAH! I'm pissed off at myself for first, dropping the wrench and second for not doing what I usually do with ignition wrenches which is to tie a piece of lacing cord to it so I can find it if I drop it.
After dinner, I start pulling the old clamps..all is well until I get to the last clamp..which has a bad nutplate. I FINALLY get the screw out, mark the nutplate for our structures guy to change in the morning and start laying in the harness..8 hours later than planned.
Before I know it, it's clean up time and I'm just happy this ugly night is over..but wait, there's more! Now one of the other guys has a lost tool in the cockpit. The tool is eventually located, the slot cleaned up and the night is over..battered, bleeding and completely pissed off at my lack of accomplishment for the whole night,I turned off the hangar lights. As I closed the hangar door, I swear I hear the old girl cackling.
OC
Some days it's hardly worth chewing through the restraints
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