This is only a preview of the November 1997 issue of Silicon Chip. You can view 35 of the 96 pages in the full issue, including the advertisments. For full access, purchase the issue for $10.00 or subscribe for access to the latest issues. Articles in this series:
Items relevant to "Heavy Duty 10A 240VAC Motor Speed Controller":
Items relevant to "Easy-To-Use Cable & Wiring Tester":
Items relevant to "A Regulated Supply For Darkroom Lamps":
Items relevant to "Build A Musical Doorbell":
Articles in this series:
Articles in this series:
Purchase a printed copy of this issue for $10.00. |
SERVICEMAN'S LOG
From soap to Teletext
It takes all sorts of people and their problems
to make a serviceman’s world. For one of my
customers, a misbehaving VCR assumed the
proportions of a major life threatening
emergency. One wonders how they would
react to the real thing.
Mrs Proby likes – no, that word is
too soft – loves, even adores, her soaps
(situation comedies for the uninitiated). She lives for them; is addicted
to them. In between watching and
recording them, she somehow makes
time for her family. But, inevitably,
disaster struck; the video recorder
wouldn’t work. It was a real emergency and it had to be fixed immediately.
The recorder was a Sony SLVX50AS and, on examination, the
30 Silicon Chip
problem was worse than she could
possibly have imagined – the recorder
had had the audacity to actually chew
up some of her beloved tapes and they
were ruined! I did my best to calm her
and tried to sound sincere as I pointed
out that worse things can happen in
life. But she was inconsolable. Eventually, I managed to convince her that
I would do my best to fix it as soon
as possible.
Afraid of what might happen if I
didn’t apply immediate first aid, I
rushed it into the operating theatre
and opened it. She had given me her
most precious tape to examine but
unfortunately it was in a real mess
and beyond repair.
Fortunately, I did have a manual for
the machine and I have reproduced a
couple of diagrams from it, particularly the section “VHS Mechanical
Adjustment Manual ll”, which should
help the reader follow the story.
Seized bearing
The reason for the damage became
obvious when a dummy tape was run.
The RVS guide (No.8) – the reverse
search arm – had almost seized on
its bearing and wouldn’t free the tape
to retract into its housing on eject.
I hoped I could free this with
out
removing it, as this would save time
because it would not then require re-
Fig.1: portion of the deck around the capstan/pinch
roller area in the Sony SLV-X50AS VCR. The RSV
guide is partially obscured and shown dotted.
alignment. And I was in luck – after a
squirt of CRC and some wiggling, the
arm moved freely.
After cleaning up any excess CRC
with alcohol, the tape went in and
out perfectly. I cleaned the heads
and tape path and initially thought
that that was the end of it; that I had
scored an easy one. But I was wrong.
On tape play there was considerable
curl on the lower edge of the tape, just
after the pinch roller, and the tape
was being mutilated as it went into
the cassette.
I removed the pinch roller, cleaned
and roughened the rubber, and tried
again. It was still no good so I fitted
a new pinch roller assembly. This
improved the situation enormously
but the tape was still curling a little
on the RVS guide. There was nothing
for it – I would have to remove, clean
and realign this guide according to the
instructions on page 25 of the manual.
The gist of this adjustment is the
need to move both the RVS guide
(No.8) and guide No.7 up or down
until the tape tracks with both guides
and with the nearby ACE head assembly. This adjustment is by means
of height adjuster nuts, one for each
guide.
The No.7 guide appeared to be
correct, so I concentrated on the RVS
guide. Unfortunately, the only adjustment setting which brought the
alignment close to correct was to have
the nut screwed hard down. This not
only failed to cure the problem but it
Fig.2: side view of the RVS (reverse search) arm,
showing its relationship to guide roller No.7 in
the Sony SLV-X50AS. Note the adjuster nuts.
meant that, on eject, the arm jammed
on a gear just below it.
There was only one thing for it. I
had to replace the arm – but where
could I get one in a hurry? This part
does not usually need to be replaced.
After ringing around, I found a colleague who had one and would let
me have it in view of the emergency.
I dashed into the ambulance and shot
around to pick up the donor organ.
Secondhand shop
My colleague, Jim, is the senior
technician at a busy sec
ondhand
shop. He spends his days growing
white hair from refurbishing TV sets
and video recorders, which they purchase from all and sundry. He was in
a talkative mood when I
arrived and was muttering
rude words about two
cranky TV sets which had
defied all his efforts to
repair them. It had got to
the stage where he was fed
up and was planning to
send them off to auction.
A cursory glance show
ed them to be low-cost
generic TV sets made
in China but both were
modern and looked good.
I stupidly volunteered to
have a look at them if he
would care to stick them
in the back of the “ambulance”. I then shot back
to the operating theatre
and transplanted the new part into
the Sony vide recorder.
This time, realigning the arm produced the desired effect, the tape now
running through the guides perfectly.
I carefully examined the old arm and
pinch roller but could not detect any
imperfections. The arm, which is a
chrome-plated steel rod embedded in
a diecast aluminium block, didn’t look
the slightest degree bent or distorted.
However, it only needs a minute
change to cause problems like these.
Anyway, I pronounced that the patient would live and so undoubtedly
would Mrs Proby. But I did issue her
with a prescription of sorts, advising
her to purchase some new tapes and
ditch the old ones (if she can bring
November 1997 31
Serviceman’s Log – continued
herself to do it). Anyway, she thanked
me most profusely; I thought she was
going to call me Doctor but she didn’t.
Jim’s TV sets
When things were quieter, I decided to have a go at Jim’s TV sets. The
first was a 51cm Palsonic 5138 with
remote control, twin speakers, and
Fast Text – the Palsonic version of
Teletext. The fault ticket read, “No
picture, no sound”.
Jim thought that the fault lay in the
Teletext section but he didn’t have a
circuit diagram. So my first step was
to order a manual from N & G Enterprises. The second set was an Aiko
Super
vision VST 60, model 2801,
as sold by Cumberland TV. This was
also dead and so I ordered a manual
for this as well.
A week later I received photocopied
circuits for both models. The Palsonic
circuit looked very similar to a Chinese chassis used in Teac and some
other sets.
At switch on, the LED on the front
32 Silicon Chip
panel lit up and a telltale 15,625kHz
whistle suggested that the line output
stage was working. The remote control
had no effect but turning up the screen
control (G2) gave a full-screen faint
blank raster.
With no sound or picture, I started
by measuring the various voltage rails.
Most are not marked on the circuit but
in any case, they seemed a little high.
Shrunk heatshrink on an electrolytic
capacitor in the power supply (C514,
47µF/50V) pointed to the likely culprit and I immediate replaced it to
prevent further damage.
I was now getting 130V, 20V, 16V
and 8V on the various rails which
seemed reasonable but there was no
16V on pin 3 of connector XT01 on
the main board, which mates with
XT01 on the Teletext board. This
feeds NT01, a 12V IC regulator on the
Teletext board.
Following the 16V rail back from
pin 1 of XT101 on the main board,
I ran into a 10Ω 1W resistor (R536)
which is not marked on the circuit
diagram. This resistor was open
circuit.
Replacing it restored the sound
but there was still no picture or onscreen displays. The voltages on the
CRT socket didn’t provide much help,
except that the cathodes were higher
than expected.
I reached for the CRO probe, planning to trace the luminance (Y) signal
through to the picture tube. However,
this was not as straightforward as
in most sets. Whereas most Teletext
decoders are designed as plug-in
optional extras and the set will work
without them, this set diverts the colour difference and luminance signals
through the decoder. Also, the circuit
is somewhat misleading as to what
plug fits into what socket.
I was able to trace the Y signal into
the Teletext card at connector XT03
(pin 1) but nothing seemed to be
coming out on XT02; or rather, on a Y
pin adjacent to XT02. From there, the
path goes to X401 on the CRT board.
This confirmed that the decoder
could not be bypassed and so would
have to be fixed. However, I didn’t
fancy rushing in and replacing suspect ICs, particularly as they cost, on
average, about $30 each.
It was time for some help. I phoned
N & G Enterprises and was informed
that the decoder gave very few problems – the only thing they were aware
of was the 27MHz crystal. I checked
this and could find nothing wrong but
I removed a lot of black gunk that had
been coated over its pins.
A red herring
By now, this line of attack was
looking like a red herring. I went
back to the CRT socket and followed
up on my earlier observation that the
tube cathode voltages appeared to be
high. It didn’t take long to discover
that there was no voltage on the bases
of video drive transistors V402, V405
and V409, although voltage was present on their emitters. The base bias is
supplied via R403, a 120kΩ resistor
connected to the 180V rail, and this
resistor was very high. Replacing it
restored the picture completely.
So problem solved but one part of
this investigation has me puzzled.
When checking with the CRO, I could
swear I saw luminance and colour
difference signals going into the Teletext board but nothing coming out to
the CRT board. But now there were
Fig.3: the CRT board in the Palsonic 5138, showing the three video driver
transistors, V402, V405 and V409.
signals coming out of the board after
I had replaced R403. I can see no correlation between the failure of R403
and the lack of signal into X401 from
the decoder. I even removed R403 and
rechecked with the CRO and there was
still plenty of signal.
And by what process had I concluded that it was the Teletext card
that was faulty? Well, in hindsight, I
cannot explain it. Jim had voiced the
thought that it might be in the Teletext
section, so perhaps I had allowed this
to lead me astray.
The remote control needed a new
rubber keypad and after alignment,
the picture was good and all “Fast
Text” functions checked out OK.
Destructive overload
Jim’s second set filled me with
dread when I found that the power
supply had suffered a severe destructive overload and a wide range of parts
had been affected. Some parts, apparently damaged, had been replaced,
some had been partially disconnected,
and some were missing altogether.
I refitted the disconnected parts and
replaced all the missing ones. Then I
disconnected it from the main chassis,
substituted a 100W globe as a load
on the 136V rail, and removed fuse
FU502 in this line. I applied 240V AC
power via a 200W globe and a Variac,
connected meters everywhere and
switched on. The 200W globe lit to
full brilliance immediately, indicating
a short circuit.
Switching transistor V501 and
diode VD504 in the bridge were both
short circuit and were replaced. When
I switched it on again, the power
supply started to squeal as I turned
the Variac up to around 100V and
was obviously under stress. There
was no output.
I examined the circuit very closely.
All the small electrolytics had been
replaced and so had R509, a 56kΩ
resistor coming off the positive rail
from the bridge. All the high value
resis
tors measured OK. The small
transistors had all been replaced with
substitutes but even the discovery that
transistor V503, part of a Darlington
pair, was fitted the wrong way around
didn’t solve the problem.
With the CRO connected, the
waveform on the collector of V501
consisted of a series of positive spikes,
suggesting that the mark space ratio
was indicating a heavy load. I didn’t
twig to the significance of this immediately and put it down to the low
input (100V) to which I had set the
Variac.
To cut a long story short, I replaced
V504, C519, C521, V505, VD513 and
many more parts around this area
before the penny dropped. There was
no ringing in the waveform indicating,
on the one hand, that there were no
shorted turns in the chopper trans
former (T503) but that there was a
short circuit somewhere across the
secondary.
All the diodes measured OK out of
circuit but there was something wrong
around diode VD518 and it didn’t
take long to find that C525, a 470µF
200V electrolytic across pins 19 & 21
of T503, was short circuit. Replacing
this and turning up the Variac restored
everything. Now for the acid test – I
reconnected the main chassis to the
power supply, replaced fuse FU502
and switched on.
Unfortunately, it still wouldn’t
work. A quick check soon showed
that there was 136V on the collector
of V303, the horizontal output transistor, but nothing on the collector of
V302 which drives it. The reason for
this wasn’t hard to find – the primary
winding of transformer T301, which
couples these together, was open,
probably due to corrosion from the
black gunk all around it.
Ordering and fitting a replacement
transformer fixed the final problem
and the set burst into life at last. Jim
was pleasantly surprised and I think
only he fully appreciated the time I
spent going up so many blind alleys
before tracking down the various
SC
faults.
November 1997 33
|