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With friends like that
"With friends like that, who needs enemies?" So goes the
popular saying, implying that someone one trusted as a
friend has not come up to scratch in a crisis or, worse, has
deliberately betrayed that friendship, usually for his own
personal gain. Cynical though the expression may be, there
seems to be a lot of it going around.
These thoughts were prompted
by a recent experience involving a
customer and a video recorder. He
was one of my regular customers
and the recorder was a model
AV14 manufactured by Mitsubishi
and marketed by AWA. This is a
relatively recent model which first
appeared about three years ago,
and one with which I am
reasonably familiar.
So when the customer opened the
conversation with the innocent
remark, "Will you have a look at
this recorder for me?", I expected
some fairly routine electrical or
mechanical fault. "Sure", I replied,
"What seems to be the problem?"
Then he dropped the bombshell:
"It's been dropped".
That rocked me somewhat. Of all
the things one should not do to a
video recorder, dropping it would
be at the top of the list. Of course
there is dropping and dropping how far had it fallen, on what had it
landed, and at what angle? These
were questions I wanted to ask, if
only to help me assess the likely
damage and chances of repair. But
the sheepish look on the customer's
face when he made the announcement suggested that such questions
might not be diplomatic, at least at
this stage.
Picking up the machine, I turned
it over and gave it a casual inspection for obvious signs of damage. At
first I found nothing, then a closer
look revealed a slight flattening of
the metal top cover in the rear left
hand corner, amounting to only a
few millimetres. Well, at least I
46
SILICON CHIP
could visualise the angle at which it
had landed. And with only that
much damage externally, maybe
the situation wasn't so bad.
But when I looked through the
front loading opening it was a different story. The cassette carrier
was at a nasty angle relative to the
opening, with the left hand side
several millimetres higher than it
should have been. That set my imagination racing; I could visualise
the main frame being twisted or,
more likely, fractured, in which
case the machine would be a writeoff.
I passed these thoughts on to the
customer, and suggested that he
leave it with me until I had time to
open it up and take a more detailed
look. And if the damage wasn't as
drastic as I feared, I could probably
give him some idea of what it would
cost to fix. And so we left it at that.
A closer look
A few days later, when things
were a bit slack, I pulled the top
cover off the machine and took a
closer look. The mechanical deck is
well covered by the main printed
Special Notice
These notes are being contributed by the author who, from
1950 until July of this year,
wrote "The Serviceman" in
another magazine. We feel sure
that regular readers of that series
will welcome the opportunity to
continue following his electronic
adventures in Silicon Chip.
circuit board, which would have to
be lifted before I could examine the
main frame. However, I was
agreeably surprised to find that the
board itself did not appear to have
suffered in any way. I later confirmed that there were no cracks of
any kind.
Moving the board clear is a
somewhat fiddly job in this model.
As well as removing the screws
holding the board itself it is
necessary to remove the front panel
and undo a number of screws
which hold the operating controls.
These are attached to the main
board by flexible leads and some
care is needed to ensure that these
are not damaged as the board is
folded back.
In fact, this part of the exercise
was completed without incident,
and I was then able to get a good
look at the main frame. Strangely
enough, the real problem was not
immediately obvious. As far as I
could see, the frame was neither
bent nor cracked and, possibly due
to some kind of optical illusion, it
took me a few seconds to work out
how it was that the cassette carrier
was crooked, even though neither it
nor the main frame seemed to be
damaged.
A frame-up
But suddenly all became clear.
The main frame was sitting at an
angle, relative to the case, and this
was why the cassette carrier did
not line up with the front opening.
And closer examination revealed
just why the frame was at this odd
angle.
The frame is of cast aluminium
and is supported in the case by four
round pins, or spigots, about 5mm
in diameter, which are part of the
casting. They are fitted with rubber
bushes which, in turn, fit into
recesses moulded into the plastic
case. And this was where the
(Z) UPPER & LOWER DRUM
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AJC HEAD<at>
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PINCH ROLLER <at>
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SHAFT
This schematic diagram of a VCR deck layout should help readers envisage the components affected by
the unfortunate sequence of events involving the customer's "mate".
damage had occurred.
The spigot near the front left
hand corner of the frame had
broken off, together with a small
piece of the frame, about half the
size of a little finger joint. But that
was not all; it had wedged itself
under the frame in such a way as to
lift the left hand corner of the deck,
thus creating the odd angle. Such
are the weird things that happen
when the irresistable force meets
the immovable object.
It wasn't much of a job to retrieve
the piece of broken casting,
whereupon the frame moved back
into place and, in spite of the missing support, sat reasonably firm. So
normal did everything appear, in
fact, that I decided to try loading a
cassette. And if it loaded, perhaps
it would even play.
So I applied power and, when
there was no smoke or other signs
of distress, pushed a cassette into
the carrier. The carrier accepted it
and deposited it on deck in the
usual way. Well, so far so good and,
thus encouraged, I pressed the play
button. For a moment I thought this
function was going to work also, but
I was disappointed. The two guide
rollers - (5) and (9) in the accom-
panying diagram - which normally
pick up the tape and wrap it around
the drum, moved only a short
distance, then jammed.
Finding this fault took a little
Ihore time and proved even
stranger than what had happened
so far. I withdrew the cassette and
examined the deck in greater
detail. To understand what I found
it will be necessary to refer to ·the
accompanying diagram and in particular to the tension pole (1) on the
extreme left hand side.
This pole, as its name implies, is
used to tension the tape on the supply side of the drum after the two
guide rollers have wrapped it
around the drum. It is mounted on a
small plate, pivotted on a pin and
held in place with a circlip, and
which has a short rod extending
downwards through the deck. This
rod is engaged by a lever which exerts the required tension on the
tape via the tension pole.
This mechanism sits in close proximity to the curved cut-out in the
deck through which the guide
rollers, and particularly the supply
side guide roller (5) moves during
the tape wrapping process. And, by
some queer quirk of the forces
generated by the fall, the short
downward projecting pin on the
plate had been forced out of its own
opening and into the guide roller
slot, effectively jamming the guide
roller.
And while the fact that this had
happened at all was puzzling, the
real surprise was yet to come. I
couldn't believe that this displacement had taken place without some
degree of distortion to some of the
parts involved, particularly the tension pole plate.
I removed the circlip, pulled the
plate out, and examined it carefully. It did not appear to be bent or to
have suffered any other form of
damage. I replaced it in its correct
position, refitted the circlip, then
tried the cassette again. And this
time it worked; the carrier accepted the cassette, deposited it on
the deck and, when I pressed the
play button, the two guide rollers
picked up the tape, wrapped it
around the drum, and set it in
motion.
I had connected the machine to a
TV set and was gratified to see a
picture come up on the screen.
Granted, there was evidence of
tracking error - not surprising
NOVEMRER 1987
47
considering what it had been
through - but I felt confident that
this would respond to routine
adjustment.
So much for complacency
All of which was very encouraging and I felt that I could now
regard the machine as repairable
and even make a fair estimate as to
what it would cost. So much for my
complacency. The setup had been
running for only a few minutes
when the picture suddenly went
very snowy, and I had visions of all
kinds of nasty faults involving
hairline cracks in the main board
and the time that might be
necessary to track them down.
Fortunately, I made a few simple
tests first. I stopped the tape, switched the TV set to an off-air channel, and was rewarded with a
snowy picture in that mode also.
Further investigation showed that
the condition could be created or
cured by simply wriggling the plug
in the "RF OUT" socket on the
recorder. Well, that meant a repair
job in that section, but I didn't anticipate that it would be all that
difficult.
So it was time to contact the
owner, explain the situation, indicate the likely cost of repair, and
see what he wanted to do about it. I
rang his home number and the
phone was answered by his wife.
When I explained who I was and
that I was calling about the video
recorder the reply was a rather flat
and slightly aggressive "Oh that".
It didn't need Sherlock Holmes to
deduce that there was some lack of
domestic agreement in the matter
of the video recorder.
Naturally, I wasn't keen to
become the meat in any sandwich
but, on the other hand, I needed someone to make a decision. But
before I could say any more, the
lady launched into the story about
the recorder. "People seem to take
my husband for a soft touch. He
bought this recorder in a pub for a
hundred dollars, from one of his
mates".
She went on to explain that this
mate had been involved in a marital
breakup and was short of ready
cash. So he had offered my
customer "this beaut video
recorder for a hundred dollars".
Of course, he had conveniently
forgotten to mention anything about
the recorder's unfortunate encounter with a hard floor, and so
the deal was struck, my customer
believing that he had acquired a
real bargain. It was only when he
brought the machine home and
tried to use it that he found it
wouldn't even accept a cassette.
Exactly how he eventually learned
what had happened to the machine
was not revealed. Perhaps he tackled his mate; perhaps he heard it
from somebody else. But one thing
is certain: with friends like that,
who needs enemies?
So much for history
So much then for the history.
What about the present? I explained to the lady that her husband may
not have done so badly after all. I
felt sure that the recorder could be
repaired, with a possible outlay between $150 and $200, with the latter
figure as a firm upper limit. This
meant that they would get a
recorder for between $250 and
$300 a bargain by any
standards.
As a bonus, there was the fact
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48
SILICON CHIP
that the machine was a current
model and, based on my examination of it, one that had had very little use. In that sense it was almost
brand new.
Apparently I was a better
salesman than I realised because,
by the time I finished, the lady gave
me the go-ahead to fix the machine,
without waiting to discuss it with
her husband. (Curse my fatal
charm).
But now I had to deliver the
goods. The most important job was
to somehow refit the spigot to ensure that the deck would remain
stable. Fortunately, the nature of
the break made this easier than it
might otherwise have been. First,
there was the fact that the spigot
had not broken off cleanly but had
taken a piece of the main frame
with it. And second, the angle of the
break was such that such stress as
it would normally encounter would,
if anything, tend to press the two
pieces of metal together, rather
than the reverse.
There was also the fact that,
dropping aside, there is not a great
---
deal of stress on these spigots; they
merely support the weight of the
deck. Taking all these factors into
account, the repair I envisaged was
somewhat unorthodox but, I felt,
quite practical. It was based on an
epoxy mixture called •'PlastiBond"; a product which, if mixed
correctly, cures to a rock hard
finish.
So I mixed up a batch, coated the
two mating surfaces to provide an
adhesive function, pressed them
together, then built up a thick
coating around the joint, taking advantage of as many irregular contours of the frame as possible to
provide the best possible grip. The
result was a substantial block of
epoxy around the joint which
should withstand any reasonable
stress it is likely to encounter.
The next thing to be tackled was
the fault involving the "RF OUT"
socket. This socket is mounted on a
metal box which contains the splitter amplifier and getting at this is
quite a job. It is closely linked to the
tuner as well as the main board and
a lot of leads have to be undone,
many needing the solder sucker,
before the box can be withdrawn
far enough to work on it Then the
soldering iron is needed to open the
box because the lid is soldered on.
I eventually gained access to the
inside of the box and the rear of the
socket. The pin from the socket protrudes through a hole in a printed
circuit board and is soldered to a
narrow copper pattern surrounding
the hole. The hole is rather larger
than the pin, the solder forming a
bridge across the gap.
This arrangement doesn't impress me very much because even
normal plugging and unplugging
likely to be encountered in typical
use must tend to move the pin slightly, putting a stress on the soldered
joint and copper pattern. In this
case there had been an abnormal
stress on it because the body of the
socket was bent several degrees
relative to its mounting lugs, and
the copper pattern had been pulled
away from the board and broken,
although making intermittent
contact.
I removed the socket, straightened it, then refitted it. I ran some
solder around the pin in an effort to
forming beautifully and had been
given "a bit of a flogging". I also
gained the impression that any initial reservations on the part of his
good lady, concerning his
"bargain", had long since been
dispelled.
So I not only saved a recorder; I
might have saved a marriage as
well!
A fallen General
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fill up the hole in the board and provide mechanical rigidity, then
replaced the missing copper pattern with a short length of fine
wire. I reasoned that if there was
any movement by the pin, the wire
should be flexible enough to cope
with it.
Looking at the damage to the
socket etc, I evolved a theory as to
how it had come about. I suspect
that the lead from the "RF OUT"
socket to the TV set was rather
short and, when the recorder fell,
this lead took most of the weight,
even if it wasn't short enough to
prevent one corner of the machine
hitting the floor.
We'll never know for sure, of
course, but something had certainly
put a lot of stress on that socket.
And it had also contributed a lot to
the cost of the repair, due to the difficulty of getting at the fault.
Only the tracking now remained
to be adjusted and this was a fairly
routine job. When it was finished,
the recorder turned in a first class
performance and I had no qualms
about have advised the owner to let
me go ahead with it. The final bill
came out about midway between
the figure I had quoted and the
owner paid up quite happily.
All that was several weeks ago,
but the owner was in the shop a few
days ago on another matter and
confirmed that the recorder is per-
My next story is on a quite different theme although some aspects
of it are just as puzzling. It concerns
a General GC-181 48cm colour TV
set, one of several belonging to a
local motel and used in the guests'
apartments. And the initial description from the owner was simple
enough; no picture and no sound.
This description was confirmed
when I finally switched the set on in
the workshop; there was no sound
- and neither was there any picture for the very good reason that
we had a classic case of frame collapse. Initially, I couldn't decide
whether this was likely to be two
separate faults, or whether there
was a common factor, such as a
supply rail, which could be responsible for both.
But before trying to track the
faµlts on a logical basis I decided to
give the set a routine check, dictated by long experience. This set
consists of a chassis and main
board mounted horizontally in the
bottom of the cabinet, plus several
auxiliary boards mounted vertically on the main boards by means of
plugs and sockets. Among these are
the IF Board, Vertical/Power
Board, Audio/Horizontal Board etc,
plus a Neck Board on the tube.
Most of the plugs and sockets are
6-pin types, some boards using two
or more such devices to provide the
necessary connections. The setup is
a very convenient one for servicing,
but has not been without problems
of its own. The plugs, or male
connectors, are mounted on the
main board and the sockets on the
auxiliary boards, and connections
between these are prone to failure.
It is the plugs on the main board
which are the main offenders. The
pins pass through the board and
are soldered to the copper pattern
on the underside, and it is here that
NOVEMBER 1987
49
faulty joints are frequently encountered. As a result, I have long
since made it a practice to tackle
these joints as a matter of routine
whenever I encounter one of these
sets, regardless of the fault. And it
is surprising how often nothing
more is needed to fix the fault.
This procedure is further encouraged by the fact that the underside of the main board is fairly easy
to get at. Undoing three screws will
release the main chassis and allow
it to be pulled back far enough in
the cabinet to reveal most of the
main board underside. And, being a
relatively small set, it is easy to tip
the cabinet on its side to make it
easy to work on.
Having done this, and prompted
by the frame collapse, I naturally
looked first to the two plugs which
feed the vertical board. And there it
was; around one of the pins (pin 12
of P403) was a tiny patch of what
looked like green corrosion. The
green lacquer on these boards
made it difficult for me to be certain until I checked with a
jeweller's loupe, but then there was
no doubt.
But there was something strange
about the condition. For one thing,
it appeared to be quite small and
confined to this one spot. And even
stranger, the corrosion was quite
wet. Now I have encountered dry
joints, fractured joints, and many
kinds of faulty joints, but this is the
first time that I have found a wet
joint. But there it was, and I can offer no logical explanation for it. I
checked carefully for evidence of
spillage of any kind around the
cabinet or anywhere inside the set,
but there was not the slightest sign.
So I set to repair the damage.
Having cleared away the corrosion
I soldered a short length of tinned
copper wire to the pin and then
soldered this to the copper pattern
some little distance away, where it
should bypass any long term corrosive effects on the copper track.
Then I switched on the set and tried
again.
Still no sound
It came good, at least in that I
had a picture. But there was still no
sound. So it appeared that there
were two separate faults. I pulled
50
SILICON CHIP
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out the audio/horizontal board,
which, as its name implies, carries
the audio output stage and horizontal oscillator stage, and reconnected it via extension leads, of
which I have several for this set.
Then I reached for the voltmeter for
a routine check.
I didn't get far. The supply rail
for the audio stages is supposed to
run at 15V but was, in fact, closer
to lO0V. Just where this was coming from I had no idea initially, but I
didn't like the chances that the
three transistors involved - the
two output transistors and the
driver had survived the
situation.
It was the physical location of the
audio board that gave me the clue.
It sits alongside the vertical board
which had suffered the faulty plug
connection. More importantly, this
plug is directly alongside the plug
for the audio board, and pin 12 of
the latter which carries the 15V
supply is alongside pin 12 for the
vertical board, which sits at around
106V. What's more, the two copper
tracks run side by side for some
distance.
And that's where the trouble
was. What ever the moisture was
that had corroded the joint had also
apparently penetrated the board
and created a path between the two
tracks. It is not the first time I have
encountered such leakage problems
and I have developed a treatment
which has proved very effective in
the past.
The idea is to dig a trough between the two tracks. I use a very
small drill, driven by a variable
speed power drill, and used as a
simple router. It requires a little
skill but is not all that difficult if
one takes one's time. I took about 15
minutes to do this job but, at the end
of that time, all signs of the
spurious voltage had vanished. I
finished it off with a spray of CRC
Clear Urethane Seal Coat, 02049,
which is available in an aerosol
pack.
Then I turned my attention to the
audio board and the transistors. As
it turned out, only the two output
transistors, TR952 and 953, had
been damaged and, interestingly
enough, one of them had gone open
circuit. This was fortunate
because, otherwise, the spurious
voltage would not have been so immediately apparent. Y'gotta win
sometimes!
Anyway, that was it. Two new
transistors put the sound section
back into action and, after a routine
check-up, the set was returned to
its owner. But I'm still puzzled
about the corrosion and what caused it. And why was it so isolated?
We'll never know
We'll never know I suppose, but
here is one other interesting point.
My regular readers will recall that
several years ago - September
1983 to be exact - I told a story
about a set from a motel, a Precedent GC-181 (no relative of the
General GC-181), in which severe
corrosion was the major problem.
In that case, the corrosion was
almost certainly caused by the
previous proprietor attempting to
repair some soldered joints using
spirits of salts as a flux.
Well, this latest case came from
the same motel. Was this another
legacy from our heavy-handed
plumber-cum-serviceman, but one
which had lain dormant for all
these years? I agree that the time
factor is against this theory, unless
the degree of pollution was extremely slight, and it took all these
years and perhaps some excessive
humidity to provide the final straw.
So what do you think?
ic
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