Birth of the Blue Missile

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More on the ship:
It wasn’t too long after the ‘bridge incident’ that I was cornered to do another ‘loverly’ job. My family ties seemed to keep following me.The existing diesel fuel tanks needed to have the remaining sludge cleaned out of them before they could be refilled and used again. The walls also needed to be scraped down and the entire thing was a mess. A six foot ladder was lowered through the access hole in the deck and we went down to take a look. They were about ten feet square and five feet tall inside so I could not stand up. When we got down there what we found was about three inches of sludge on the floor and roughly an inch of crap on the walls. There were two of these tanks to clean so there were four of us, two in each tank. We set up fans to push fresh air into the tanks so the air was mostly breathable.
The first thing we had to do was get the sludge off the floor because walking through all that crap was a bit hazardous. We tried to use shovels and put the sludge in five gallon buckets but we ended up getting the stuff every where including on ourselves.
It was at that point that I had one of those divine epiphanies. I told the laborers to go the wood shop, which hadn’t been cleaned for months, take all the garbage bags they could find and fill them with all the saw dust they could round up. They did so and brought them back to our little corner of heaven. Because there were two separate tanks I had no idea what the other crew was doing to solve their dilemma. We proceeded to dump ten or fifteen large bags of sawdust on the floor, spread it out and take a couple of clean five gallon buckets turn them over and sit and wait. Of course while we were waiting we lit up a doobie and relaxed.
After the sawdust had absorbed the majority of the sludge, we took flat shovels and loaded it back into the garbage bags. We could only half fill them because of the weight, and handed them up to the laborers for disposal. We then took six inch drywall knives and scraped down the rest of the crap and loaded the dry stuff into five gallon buckets which were then disposed of. We didn’t take lunch because we were so filthy we just wanted to finish the job and go get clean. We emerged from the tank 1:30ish and announced we were done.
When we walked over and looked into the other tank those bozos were still fooling around with the stuff on the floor. At which time mercy was called for, and I told them what we had done and how easy it had become to finish. They did the same and got out of their tank a few hours later.


Maybe Ill get something done on the car today. More tales later enjoy
Andrew
 
Ive had no time to work on the car, much to busy with work and church, but here is some more on the ship and the crazies we were back then.

A little background on the prior life of the research vessel is called for before I tell the next tale.
In its prior life the ship was used for “lightning research”.
The ship was an electric/diesel power craft. In the forward compartment (where the wood shop now was) there were a huge amount of capacitors the size of five gallon rectangular gas cans, around two hundred. This capacitor bank was used to store electricity to supplement the diesel generators that powered the electric motors that turned the screws. There was also in this room, de-gauzing equipment to keep the stored charge from dissolving the ships hull, along with the zinc ingots welded to the exterior of the hull.

I’m sure there are some who are getting ahead of me with “you’ve got to be kidding”…

OK… here is where the lightning comes in. Their mission, which they obviously accepted, was to get lightning to strike the ship and store some of that energy in the capacitors. After which it was sent on to the motors for propulsion.
I want to see the hands of all of those who think, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out, this is crazy dangerous.
However it did take a rocket scientist to make it work. They would launch two different size rockets into the storms towing an ultra thin wire, which was attached back to the ship. The smallest was a 2” line throwing rocket (with a range of a thousand feet or so) used in merchant shipping rescue operations, and a 6” rocket that had a two mile apogee, which means it had the potential to land four miles away.

The other method was to take and tow a stainless steel braided cable 1/8” up into the storm with a helicopter. The other end was attached to a large reel mounted to the main deck…. That must have been much safer. LOL
The new owner did tell a story of one of the mates walking out on the deck during a storm, not knowing the helicopter had picked up the line, seeing the reel free wheeling and throwing the brake on the reel almost yanking the helicopter out of the sky.

When we got the ship all of the rockets were taken off the ship and stored at Stanley’s house in his garage. After we got the new diesel motors installed into the ship and most of the main systems were functional, the investor flew down from up north and we took a sort of shake down cruise.
We went down to the ocean side of marathon key and would spent the day diving for lobsters and spear fishing, and consuming large quantities of beer and getting well adjusted.
We thought since we could send it out into the middle of the Atlantic it would be fun to launch a rocket that night from the bow of the ship.

So the day of the cruise we went to Stanley’s house and assembled one of the six inch rockets. The six inch rockets were about eight feet tall and had fins that were about three feet at the base. The nose cone was threaded onto the one piece body and the fins were attached with screws onto the casing. Just one of these barely fit into the back of a pickup truck. So here we were going down I-95 with one of these in the back of the truck from North Miami to the river. Talk about a paranoid bunch of guys in a truck.
We made it to the ship without incident and took our cruise. That night we strapped an improvised launch rail to the front railing of the ship and slid the rocket on it. Stanley got some zipcord and a twelve volt battery, connected the whole affair to the igniter, and we lit the thing up. The problem we had not counted on, was that the threads for the nose cone were incredibly fine. Even though the rocket looked properly assembled those threads has stripped during assembly. So when he ignited the charge there was a big boom and all we managed to do was launch the nose cone a hundred feet from the boat.
In retrospect this was probably a very good thing. You see we had forgot to take into account that right off the coast of south Florida is the Atlantic shipping lane which has cruise ships and super tankers running up and down the coast at all times. Let’s say within four miles of the coast. You fill in the dots.

After that incident we all decided launching those rockets was a lost cause and Stanley became the very proud owner of all that stuff.
Some time after the ship lost funding and we all went our separate ways word got back to me that Stanley had gotten busted, not by the DEA which was not that big back then, but by the ATF.
For some reason they went after him. When they walked into his living room ( what we now would call a man cave) they found his arm chair, which was strategically located right in front of and centered between his massive stereo speakers, surrounded on either side by two eight foot rockets with the smaller ones on either side of the end tables. What can you say, Bubba existed even in Miami.


more later, hope you enjoy
Andrew
 
I thought I would update this thread with some of the interior pieces I have completed to date for those who are following here.
The first is one of the back panels, the second and third are of the package tray with the third brake/turn signals. The fourth is of the new arm rests.
Andrew

drivers back panel.jpg


package tray #6.jpg


package tray #7.jpg


armrest 7.jpg
 
Here are a couple more for the record first are the fire boxes for the rear speakers, second is the finished dash pad.
Andrew

speaker cans.jpg


dashpad#13.jpg
 
OK Captain, since you asked sooooo nicely, here you go.
This chunk goes at the beginning of the story and is about some times at UM.
enjoy
Andrew

Since this story is about cars and road trips I will include one that occurred while I was going to UM.
But first I have to set the scene and introduce you to the main characters.
My roommate was named Joe. Joe was about 5’6” tall had long dark hair parted in the middle and a goatee, he also held a black belt in Karate. I can not for the life of me remember what he had declared as his major, but he had a never ending supply of all kinds of exotic things to smoke. He was from New Jersey and sounded and acted the part, which is where the black belt comes in. He was not violent just cocky.
There was Billy from a few doors down who had a crazy looking blond Afro, and could make an unending number of sounds with his mouth. A few examples here, when we took the elevator up to the fifth floor, he would do all the sound effects from the bridge of the Enterprise, such as the doors opening and closing, the control sounds of the command consol when someone pushed a floor button, and generally entertain all during the ride. He could also pick up the phone and dial it by generating tones with his mouth, while he never knew what number he would end up with, he always got someone. He also on occasion would take control of the PA mic in the cafeteria and give everyone a taste of the Amazon jungle, with ear shattering bird calls and the such. He generally hung out in our room.
Then there was Henry.
We met Henry under the strangest of circumstances; at least that’s what I thought.
One morning at the beginning of the year, after partying late the night before, both Joe and I woke up to a tall very thin guy with sandy blond hair, wearing shorts a tank top tee shirt and flip flops sitting in one of the chairs at the end of my bed. We never locked our doors in the dorm so he had just walked in and sat down. What woke us was the sound of him taking a credit card and sifting the seeds out some pot by lifting the material up and dropping it at one end of a tilted one inch tall 8”x12” aluminum baking pan. First I thought; what a concept, being impressed by how efficient it was. Second was, who is this guy and where did he come from? He proceeded to roll a large joint, light it and pass it to me, introducing himself as Henry in the process. When we were done, without saying anything he just got up and left.
Afterwards I called a few people I knew on the floor and asked if any one knew him and all said; OH! you got a visit from Henry? Yes they knew him, and he was harmless. According to those I spoke to, he at least at one time went to school there, but nobody was sure anymore. He later told me that he had been drafted and he swallowed some ‘Draino’ while in boot camp to get out of the Army. This resulted in him having some surgeries, getting a section 8 and getting booted out of the Army. He had returned to school to finish, but was not really studying much, he just liked to party. He also had his finger on the pulse of the university. He would come get us so that we would not miss some of the cool happenings on campus such as the time that Hound dog Taylor was sitting in the back room of the student union with his bass player giving an impromptu concert for all those of us that showed up.
Because of that first encounter the ‘Henry Pan’ became a fixture in almost all the rooms on the floor.
 
C'mon, Andrew.....that was a paragraph.....a bloody paragraph!
You can't write a loaded paragraph like that and just leave us, well..hanging!
Did ya see Hound Dog play? Did you bump into Henry again? Enquiring minds want to.....hell; DEMAND to know!:read2:
 
Captain and all
Yes the whole gang of us saw Hound Dog play for a couple of hours. He also sat and talked about his life as well as the business during those two hours. As far as Henry goes he is part of the cast of characters for the road trip I'm leading up to. Henry was a regular fixture during that year. Ill try to get you more of this story later tonight. There are three of us and one computer, time around here is sort of rationed.
Andrew
 
It's been a while since I've looked in on this thread but you are doing some awesome work. I especially like the dash, that is exactly what I'm planning to do. Not sure how to go about it yet, but I'll get there. In fact, everything you are doing with the digital gauges and the LCD display is the direction I'm headed. Nice work!
 
:munky2::munky2::munky2::munky2::munky2:
OK captain I hear them calling :happy10:
So heres a couple of paragraphs
Andrew

The general social scene was comprised of the occupants living at the end of the fifth and the sixth floors of the dorm. We would use the fire escape at the end of the hall to commute between floors rather than walking to the center of the building and using the elevator.
I vividly remember all of us running up the stairs to the roof one night to watch the first night launch of the space shuttle. WOW man :happy10:
I do want to remind all that it was a different set of circumstances then, The Vietnam war was still raging on and weed was just an accepted part of university life. Even the president of the student council getting busted with a couple of pounds had no repercussions!
I can still remember the campus wide party that took place when Nixon cancelled the war and the draft. I was particularly grateful for this because my draft number was 15, and I was only exempted from the war by a college deferment. Other wise I would have been enjoying the ‘Tropical life’.
I was during that time I was also introduced by Joe to something called a ‘bong’, for technical specifications contact Tommy Chong in LA I’m sure he can help. That first Christmas vacation at UM, I spent at mother’s condo on the beach. I’ve already told you how undeveloped the beach was at that time. While I was walking down by the waterline I found a 5 inch thick, six foot piece and some smaller pieces of bamboo washed up on the beach. In my mind, little is ok, but bigger is better. I then during the break proceeded to make a three foot tall bong, with a two inch piece of bamboo for the bowl. I then took it back to campus for the start of the next semester. When Joe walked into the room and finally noticed it leaning in a corner his response was, with a silly grin on his face “Where did that come from, and when are we going to fire it up?
The timing of this was important because of the rivalry between the fifth and sixth floors, more about that in a minute.

It was only a few days later that Joe decided to break in the ‘BIG BONG’. There was a guy from further down the hall towards the elevators who’s name escapes me, that wanted to party with us. He had also brought his girlfriend with him and she was only going to keep him company, because being a born-again Christian she wasn’t into getting high just hanging out. We put about a foot of water in the bong and filled the bowl which held roughly an ounce. Since Joe supplied the smoke he was the first to try it. I held the match and he took a draw, then when he released the vacuum the returning water pressure blew the match out. We tried again and this time the smoke lit and Joe got a huge hit, but when he let go this time, the pressure blew partially lit weed all over the place. After a few more tries we decided the physics of the device really didn’t work even with just a little water.
After gathering all the stash up and putting it back in the bong without water, we put our questionable intellects together and decided to ‘shotgun’ (that is blowing through instead of sucking through the pipe) what was in the bowl into the room. After which we would just hang and listen to music. We put towels under the doors and after it was lit the regular way (without any water) we preceded to shotgun the entire bowl into the 12’x15’ room. After a little while we were all well adjusted. This guys girlfriend had just laid back on one of the beds listening to the music which was the usual mix of Steve Miller/Yes/ELP/Deep Purple, etc paying little attention to what we were doing. Now let me say that after we were done, you could barely see across the room, it was very difficult in spite of the fact there were lights on. A little while later she told her boyfriend that she felt sort of dizzy, and wanted to leave, so they did. When the door to the hallway was opened we got all kinds of looks from those who were standing in the hallway, because the smoke rolled out of the room like cheap theatrical fog rolling across a stage…. Time to order pizza!
Now back to the rivalry.
You see there was a team type rivalry between the floors to establish who had the better dope. There was a match between the floors every so often to establish this.
There were even team tee shirts; ours had the Zig-Zag guy and “fifth floor smoking team” on them. It wasn’t until after the Christmas break that I experienced the thrill of combat.
The rules were simple. Your opponent would smoke your dope via your method and the last one to maintain consciousness would walk away with all the stash. The entrance fee was three or four ounces of incredible stuff.
This combat was the motivation for building the BIG BONG, but because of the technical difficulties encountered we decided not to use it. It was however quite a conversation piece for the rest of the year.
We showed up at our first match with just one joint, as well as the entrance fee. The guys from the sixth floor looked at us like we were crazy. This one was my idea.
They of course wanted to go first, thinking this was a no brainer. So we handed their guy the joint, a book of matches, and a very large dry cleaning bag. Oh did I forget to mention the dry cleaning bag? He asked us what was he supposed to do with that? Our response was, get inside it and smoke the joint! Well being young and dumb he complied, so as not to blow the match. While he was sitting on the bed he proceeded to put it over him and tuck it under his crossed legs. He then lit the joint and started smoke it. It took about two minutes before he ran out of anything to breathe and he abandoned the quest forfeiting the match. Thus securing our party supplies for a while.
 
Great story....... a dry cleaning bag? I wouldnt have thought of that! LOL
Next one please....... You can work on your car during their computer time. lol
 
YO Captain, was anybody gonna tell me that parts of the story seemed familiar???
Such is the cost of putting something together a chunk at a time. I have to now print the whole thing out and review it all for duplications.
Andrew
 
blue missile said:
YO Captain, was anybody gonna tell me that parts of the story seemed familiar???
Such is the cost of putting something together a chunk at a time. I have to now print the whole thing out and review it all for duplications.
Andrew
Click to expand...

Yes, writing can be a chore. But worth it in the end!
This is one thread that has me checking for updates waaaaay too often!8)
 
Here are the before and after of the front wheel openings.
For those who have been following the discussion between RJ and myself here is my solution to our common problem.
The before is of the passengers side and the after is of the drivers side.
Andrew

Weel opening #1.jpg


Wheel opening #2.jpg


Wheel opening #3.jpg


Wheel opening #5.jpg


Wheel opening # 6.jpg
 
Just got the second bumper, another grill and a 8 3/4 complete axle.Details and pics to follow
Andrew
 
Now you see it, now you dont. A couple of guys from the San Antonio area came up and relieved me of the /6/904. They were fellow MoPar heads who build /6s.
And so it continues, now I can get to work on cleaning out and detailing the engine compartment.
Andrew

engine compartment 1.jpg


engine compartment 2.jpg
 
I got a B body axle and a 489- 3.23 diff from Daredevil, its now cleaned up and the spring perches are relocated to the inboard location for tire clearance.
Andrew

Rear Axle 1.jpg
 
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