This is only a preview of the November 2019 issue of Silicon Chip. You can view 45 of the 112 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. Items relevant to "The Super-9: a stereo FM Radio Receiver to build":
Items relevant to "Three I-O Expanders to give you more control!":
Items relevant to "High performance linear power supply – part two ":
Items relevant to "Digital Panel Meter/USB Display suits a range of projects":
Purchase a printed copy of this issue for $10.00. |
SERVICEMAN'S LOG
The alarming false alarm system
I’ve written before about home alarms and
the problems that DIYers like myself run into
working on them. The main problem is that I
don’t know what I don’t know, and given my
proclivity to ‘have a go’, it’s no surprise that I
sometimes come unglued. The silver lining is
that everything is a learning opportunity; next
time I’ll try again, and if necessary, bring in
someone who knows what they’re doing.
This means – rightly or wrongly –
that I sometimes try to do jobs usually
best left to professionals. However, getting a professional to do the job doesn’t
guarantee that it’s done right either!
Admittedly, my expectations might
be unrealistic. But if I’m paying (usually handsomely) for a job, I expect a
certain level of competence when it
comes to the final result.
I’ll be the first to admit that I’m an
average serviceman; I win on some
repairs and fail at others. My Dad,
and then the airline I served with,
siliconchip.com.au
instilled in me the will and skills to
do a good job, and this set my standards high. Given the environment at
the airbase, and the number of people
who worked there, it is inevitable that
there would be others far more capable than myself.
Those guys studied hard, got licensed to the hilt and more often than
not, saw out their careers pushing papers in technical support. Then there
were the guys who weren’t as ‘booksmart’, but who were very manually
skilled.
Australia’s electronics magazine
Dave Thompson
Items Covered This Month
•
•
•
•
Alarm systems with false
alarms are alarming
Two Yamaha amps and a Bose
FX unit restoration
Behringer RX1202FX
12-channel mixer repair
Rangehood repair
*Dave Thompson runs PC Anytime
in Christchurch, NZ.
Website: www.pcanytime.co.nz
Email: dave<at>pcanytime.co.nz
I knew engineers who could weld
wood to concrete without a visible
bead, or strip jet engines or avionic
systems, overhauling every component and then reassembling it all blindfolded (not that that was encouraged)!
I was somewhere in the mix; everyone had different skills, and with a
bit of good fortune, we all ended up
where we wanted to be, doing what we
wanted to do. Now and then an extrachallenging job would come across
the bench to spice up the workday. I
sometimes miss being part of that environment.
Lately, I’ve encountered several
‘professionals’ where tool skills didn’t
seem to be part of their job requirements. It pains me to shell out for a
job that, even when viewed with hindsight, we could have done ourselves;
and sometimes done better.
I’ve had workers come to service appliances, repair water pipes and install
fibre broadband and in all these cases,
I reckon I could have done at least an
equally good job.
I know about as much about plumbing as I do about mathematical formalism in quantum mechanics. But with all
due respect to plumbers, charging $700
to zip-cut a metal pipe off and replace
it with a plastic section over two hours
is awfully steep. And the less said, the
better, about the gas-fitter who scribed
a divot into our brand-new benchtop
when his power drill slipped.
November 2019 61
I could have fitted that hob, or done
the pipes; I just wasn’t “qualified” for
the job.
These situations remind me of the
old yarn about the boilermaker who
was brought in to fix the misbehaving boiler on a steamship. He walked
in, looked around for a couple of minutes, took out a tiny hammer and gently tapped a valve. The boiler then
worked perfectly. The ship owner was
irate to receive a $1000 bill for this fix,
and asked for an itemised invoice. The
invoice he received read:
Tapping the valve: 50¢
Knowing where to tap: $999.50
Total: $1000
So I guess my point is, you hire the
professionals to do an easy job so that if
it turns out not to be so easy, you don’t
get into a lot of bother. But it’s still galling when someone charges you a lot to
do a sub-par job, especially when you
know you could do better.
Installing the old alarm system
When we moved into this house, we
installed a security system. This was
for our own peace of mind and also the
safety of my tools and my customers’
hardware in my workshop. (April 2018;
siliconchip.com.au/Article/11033).
It is debatable whether a neighbour
62
Silicon Chip
would even bother glancing at our residence if the alarm was blaring away.
But it is nice to know that in a dimlylit bunker somewhere across town, an
operator is sitting at a console, waiting
for our monitored alarm to go off, so
they can send a security guard around
and charge us a hundred bucks for the
privilege!
If I hear a nearby alarm sounding,
I always wander down the street and
have a look at what’s going on, even
though I’m not sure what I could do
if I do find something amiss.
I’ve accidentally set my car alarm
off in public several times. On one
occasion, I’d locked myself out of it
in a supermarket car park and was
trying to break in. Shoppers walked
past without a raised eyebrow, though
admittedly some did look annoyed at
the noise!
My first stop was the alarm monitoring company we’d used for the last 20
years. They had provided our original
alarm system by way of a deal where
you got the system free if you signed
up for three years monitoring at a buck
a day. We’d moved that system a couple of times over the years and weren’t
keen on moving it again.
The bad news was the alarm companies don’t do those deals anymore.
Australia’s electronics magazine
I would be looking at “about a grand”
to have a basic system installed and
configured by Chap and Bloke, the
two overall-clad likely lads who were
contracted to do this company’s alarm
installations.
I’d had dealings with these guys in
the past and wasn’t too impressed with
their work, so I thought I’d check the
internet first.
There are literally thousands of
alarm systems on AliExpress (one
of my favourite websites back then),
some cheap and some costly; the biggest problem was which one to choose.
Talk about upskilling by proxy; I had
to learn and translate a whole raft of
new acronyms and technical doublespeak.
I also had some strict requirements;
many of the newer systems used only
SIM cards and the digital GSM (cellular) network to send data to the monitoring company.
Not only does this involve an ongoing cost for any calls made from the
alarm, but back then, the monitoring
company couldn’t accept signals sent
this way. So we had to ensure any
alarm we installed used the increasingly ‘old-tech’ copper-wire based
PSTN (Public Switched Telephone
Network) system.
siliconchip.com.au
This proved to be no real problem
as many compatible PTSN systems
were available, and the majority of
those systems used 433MHz wireless
technology to connect sensors to the
‘base’ unit. This was appealing on
many levels, not the least of which is
that I am getting too old to be crawling around in the roof or under floors
to route wires.
I ended up purchasing a mid-level
digital base unit with both PTSN and
GSM capability, along with suitable
wireless pet-sensitive PIR sensors, a
couple of photo-electric smoke detectors and some magnetic door/window
switches.
I could have up to 99 zones with
this system, and while this was a few
more than I needed right away for Casa
Thompson, it would allow me to expand. Who knows, I might eventually
add 92 more rooms to my house. Any
more than that and I would need a new
alarm system!
Installing this system was as easy as
it sounds, with the majority of the work
going into deciding where to put the
sensors and screwing their mounts to
the walls or doorframes. Then it was
just a matter of programming the base
unit and adding the sensors to it.
I wired in a copper phone line using the supplied cable, which I first
had to modify by cutting off the original RJ11 plug and crimping on a kiwi
Telecom BT-style connector. I had a
siliconchip.com.au
spare SIM, so for ‘belt-and-braces’
monitoring, I put that into the system as well.
I then encountered the first hiccup:
the new panel wanted to know my
monitoring company’s phone number
and my customer number, neither of
which I knew. The only way to get this
information was to call up the company, and of course, they weren’t about
to dish that information to just anybody, and (quite rightly) didn’t want
some cowboy messing around with
their system.
In the end, I had to book Bill and
Bob to make a visit, just to watch them
press a couple of buttons and make
a test call to the monitoring centre.
Note to self: make sure to factor another $200 into the cost of any future
alarm system.
For the most part, this alarm worked
well. It came with four keyfobs for
wireless arming and disarming, and
these are extremely handy; especially because after a few years, I forgot
what codes I originally programmed
into the panel for manual disarming,
since I never used them!
A flawed system
One of the big downsides is replacing batteries in the sensors; the PIRs
use that old standard, the 9V battery,
but the window and door sensors chew
up those little 12V 23A-style buggers,
and neither are cheap to replace. Note
Australia’s electronics magazine
to self: factor in many more dollars
for batteries for any future wireless
alarm system.
Replacing batteries is to be expected,
but as the voltage drops, some sensors
get unstable, so we were continually
having false alarms. In fact, this was
usually how I found out that a sensor
battery was going flat. Being rudely
woken up at 4am by a shrieking piezo
siren is not my idea of fun!
Being at home when a false alarm
happens is one thing; being out and
about when it happens results in a
whole other set of problems. The alarm
calls the monitoring company, telling
them what zone is triggered and what
type of emergency it is (fire, intruder, panic etc). It also calls my mobile
phone via the SIM with a pre-recorded message with similar information.
The problem, as I discovered, is
that the monitoring company usually
get straight on their phone to call my
registered number to report the alarm
going off. But they get a busy signal
because the alarm system is repeatedly calling me, tying up my phone. If I
didn’t answer, they’d send a security
guard around and charge us the fee.
This can be a real pain, especially
as Murphy’s Law dictates this happens
only when I’m in an important meeting, driving, or sitting in the dentists’
chair. I soon reconfigured things to
make this process smoother. Another
lesson learned. Note to self: factor in
November 2019 63
many potential visits from security
guards in any future wireless alarm
system.
Long story short, I got sick of constantly replacing batteries and paying security guards to tell me we had
another a false alarm. I can’t remember our old wired system, which we’d
used for decades, ever going off (unless we tripped it accidentally). So I
resolved a few months back to look
for something similar to that and replace this new-fangled-but-flawed
wireless thing.
I should also add that recently, the
monitoring company let us know they
had upgraded their system and could
now do GSM signal monitoring. While
this meant we might be able to ditch
our old copper phone lines, they also
said it would incur higher per-call
costs than what we currently pay.
I briefly pondered how that worked,
since we paid for any alarm-generated
cell-phone calls anyway, but gave up
and decided to stick with the monitoring system we already had.
Fed up with wireless hassles
I found a new alarm system on AliExpress almost identical to our old
8-zone wired system, but with 16
zones, a lockable metal box and PSTN
dialling. It was quite reasonably priced
and included a couple of fob remotes
for wireless arm/disarm.
I could also pick whatever sensors
I wanted to go with it, and opted for
three pet-sensitive and three ‘normal’
PIR/microwave combination sensors.
These are Canadian-made, and apparently they have the lowest false-trigger
figures in the business. I also got two
smoke detectors and an extra keypad.
All I’d have to add is a 12V SLA backup battery and some cable; I already
had a 100m roll.
One obvious downside to this decision is the requirement to run those
cables. This is usually not too much of
a hassle in any normal house (at least
here in New Zealand) with reasonable
roof or underfloor space.
However, our house was converted
from a single to a double-storey home
30 years ago. So much of the groundfloor ceiling space needed for routing
cables has a whole other house sitting right above it, leaving almost no
usable gaps.
While there is a very narrow crawlspace around the perimeter of the
roof, I (and a builder friend) pondered
64
Silicon Chip
this sensor location and cable-routing
problem for weeks. We eventually decided that the only way was for one
of us (that means me) to suit up, get
into the roof space and to probe aptly-named fish tape (or fishing rods)
through any gaps we could find between the floors.
Hopefully, we could route the wires
as close to the ideal sensor positions as
possible. If the worst came to the worst,
I’d run the cables out through the roof
tiles and around the eaves. Note to self:
before buying wired alarms, check out
potential cable access problems!
I’m not claustrophobic enough to
have a problem crawling around inside the wing tanks of aeroplanes, but
that was 35 years ago, and I had proper
gear then. Wiggling through dark, spider-web and mouse dropping-infested gaps I can barely fit my shoulders
through while dragging a long fibreglass pole is not how I pictured spending my increasingly autumnal years.
Someone had to do it, though. I am
happy to report that with some surprisingly agile gymnastics and inspiredbut-educated guesswork from both of
us, we were able to run all the cables
we needed to the positions we wanted. We only had to drill one hole in a
less-than-ideal position, around 50mm
away from where we wanted it.
While I was up there, I ran Cat6
network cabling out to my workshop
and a couple of other rooms I wanted
connected, so we got a lot done in one
day. Note to self: allow several days for
physical recovery after cabling work.
I mounted the alarm box by the access door in the roof space, which is a
natural junction of all the cables coming from the sensors. I mounted a couple of cheap LED lights up there too,
which made connecting up the sensor
wires a lot easier.
This was all relatively straightforward work. But I did need to ensure
the sensors’ operating mode (normally-open or normally-closed, set by
jumpers on their PCBs) matched the
panel configuration.
Normally-closed operation requires
a so-called “end-of-line” resistor
(2.7kW) wired in series with the sensor’s ‘hot’ lead, while a normally-open
sensor requires the resistor to be wired
in parallel with the hot and ground
leads. The alarm’s user manual had
these two diagrams transposed, but I
eventually worked it out.
I still had to deal with those unknown monitoring numbers. Luckily,
I found them in my old wireless panel,
so retrieving them and programming
them into the new system was a cinch.
It’s been working now for months and
not one false alarm, so I’d call that job
done, and not a ‘professional’ in sight
(thank goodness?).
Yamaha amplifier and Bose guitar
effects unit restoration
D. D., of Petrie, Qld is a serial repairer and recently managed to easily fix two different Yamaha amps
and a guitar effects unit, two of which
had already been relegated to the tip!
That’s a pretty good effort and here is
how he did it…
The local tip has a recycling section
where you can drop off your unwanted
gear to sell to people who can use it,
but their policy recently changed, and
they no longer allow mains-powered
equipment to be sold in this manner.
But as I was recycling some bits and
pieces, I happened across a Yamaha
RX-V457 7.1-channel surround receiver.
A tip worker saw me looking at it, so
I asked him if I could have it. He said
no (with a wink), but if he doesn’t see
me take it, then he can’t do anything
about it. He then walked away.
So I became the proud new owner
of an amplifier. I got the unit home,
plugged it in, and nothing happened.
So, Google to the rescue. There is a
common fault with this amplifier, a
capacitor on the inlet power circuit
board goes bad. I tested capacitor C4
and found it much lower than its rating of 22nF, 630V.
I replaced it with a new one from
Jaycar and the amplifier now sounds
fantastic, although I did have to buy
Servicing Stories Wanted
Do you have any good servicing stories that you would like to share in The Serviceman
column? If so, why not send those stories in to us?
We pay for all contributions published but please note that your material must
be original. Send your contribution by email to: editor<at>siliconchip.com.au
Please be sure to include your full name and address details.
Australia’s electronics magazine
siliconchip.com.au
a remote control, which was the most
expensive part of the repair!
Here’s another story of a tip rescue.
My brother-in-law’s brother works at
his local tip and picks up bits and
pieces all the time. Lately, he happened across a Boss ME-50 guitar
multiple effects unit. These are pretty
cool and have pretty much everything
a guitar player could want, with some
22 effects.
The unit had no (or very low) output signals. Disassembling it took a
while due to the 20 odd potentiometers
holding it together. I found a very nice
looking PCB populated with SMDs.
A quick internet search revealed the
service manual and a circuit diagram.
I applied a sinewave signal to the
aux input using my smartphone. I
could see the signal going into the
circuit but nothing coming out. While
looking at the diagram, I noticed there
are muting transistors on the outputs
of all the channels, so I lifted one of
the legs of all of these SMD transistors,
but there was still no output.
Next, I tried removing each op amp
one by one to see if one was causing the problem. As luck would have
it, the very first op amp I lifted (IC6,
NJM4556) solved the problem. It appeared to have a short circuit across its
inputs, which was shunting the input
signal to ground for all the op amps. As
soon as I replaced that IC, the whole
thing worked.
My third repair was of a Yamaha RX-V2067 7.2-channel surround
sound amplifier that was given to me.
It would turn on but then switch itself off after a second or so. I initially
thought great another easy fix with a
faulty capacitor on the power board,
but it was not to be.
So I downloaded the service manual
and put the unit into service/no protection mode. The unit prompted me
with an error code, “PS2_PRT 168H”.
A perusal of the manual showed that
this error code is related to the voltage rails labelled, ±12V, ±12RY, +5A,
+44V and +5DK.
The schematic showed the regulators for three of these rails were on
the PCB labelled “video 2”, which is
right at the bottom of the unit, so after
removing four PCBs and many screws
and unplugging many connectors, I got
to those board. I set it up on the bench
with my bench supply and measured
all the voltages. They were all in spec.
I then re-assembled the unit and powsiliconchip.com.au
ered it on, testing all the other rails;
they were all in spec too.
I scratched my head and had another
look at the schematics. The PS2_PRT
line is a sum of all the above voltages
via a resistor voltage divider network,
resulting in a voltage going into the
A/D converter which should be around
1.6V but I measured 2.2V.
I removed the PCB labelled “video
2” again and started checking the resistors related to this voltage divider
network. I found one which measured
70kW, but it should have been 47kW.
These are all small 0603-sized SMD
resistors.
On removal of the suspect resistor, I
tried to measure it again and found it
open circuit briefly, before it flew off
somewhere, yet to be found.
I didn’t have any 0603-sized 47kW
resistors in my home stockpile, but I
had a couple of 0.25W axial versions
which, with a bit of lead manipulation, I soldered to the pads. After reassembly, the PS2_PRT line now reads
1.5V and the unit no longer goes into
protection mode.
Unfortunately, it only worked for a
couple of days before all sound disappeared. I put the unit into service mode
again and found that I could get sound
out of the speakers using the service
modes A2: analog direct test and the
A7: manual test. So I knew the amplifiers were still working.
I then used my phone as a signal
generator and fed signals into all the
channels one by one. They all worked
on pure direct and A2 test mode. So
all inputs and outputs were working.
But there was a fault when the DSP
function was switched on.
I started to follow the signal and
found that nothing was coming out
of IC811, a PCM1803 analog-to-digital
converter (on the Function 3 PCB). Replacing the chip permanently fixed it.
Behringer RX1202FX 12-channel
mixer repair
A. M., of Port Macquarie, NSW had
to go into full sleuth mode to fix the
power supply of a fancy mixer. Several parts had failed, and not just the
usual culprits...
The RX1202FX is a rack-mountable
12-channel mixer with an integrated
effects unit, designed by Behringer in
Germany but made in China. The mixer arrived with no signs of life at all.
My initial thought was that it was likely due to a failed power supply or fuse.
Australia’s electronics magazine
Of course, a failed fuse is usually
a symptom of another problem and
replacing the fuse won’t necessarily fix it.
The mains fuse is located in an integrated IEC socket. Prising this open
and testing the fuse showed the fuse to
be intact, so a more a time-consuming
repair would be required.
Opening the unit up revealed a front
panel PCB, rear panel PCB and a small
switch-mode power supply. The front
and rear PCBs are connected via three
ribbon cables, glued in place with hot
glue. The power supply is mounted
vertically between the front and rear
panels with an output connector linking to the rear PCB.
Removing the power supply board
involved undoing two screws, disconnecting the output connector on the
rear PCB and desoldering the mains
input cable from the rear panel switch
and Neutral connection.
As is usual with a switch-mode supply, your mind immediately jumps to
the capacitors as the source of the fault.
I thought it would be an easy repair;
just replace the dried-up electrolytics
and it will work again.
Visual inspection of the supply,
once it was removed from its aluminium heatsink/mounting frame, did not
reveal any catastrophic damage, but
did show it provided multiple supply
rails and was designed by Behringer
(many equipment switch-mode power
supplies are generic devices made by
third parties).
An internet search indicated that
this supply was used in a few different Behringer mixers, but a complete
replacement supply did not seem to
be available. The search did yield a
schematic, though; the commentary
with the schematic was not in English
so it may or may not have been an official diagram.
But it did match the part numbers
and values and general configuration
of the supply, and indicated the output voltages. The PCB silkscreen gave
the component values as well as part
numbers but not the output voltages.
Powering the supply up outside the
mixer showed that all the supply rails
were absent and the big input filter capacitor stayed charged once the mains
had been removed. Being bitten by the
340V DC on these capacitors is something you always remember and good
quality capacitors with no load can
hold a charge for a long time.
November 2019 65
The capacitor keeping its charge
was a clue that the primary side of
the supply was not switching. The
two small electros on the primary side
are were wedged between the large
filter capacitor and the transformer.
Both tested OK with the ESR meter
and measured a reasonable capacitance in circuit.
All the surface-mount resistors on
the primary side of the supply seemed
to match both the schematic and their
values, measured close to the markings on the PCB, except for R5. This
is a 10kW surface-mount resistor between the X pin on the switching
regulator IC (a seven-pin TOP245YN)
and ground.
I desoldered R5 to check it further.
It was apparent that the regulator had
an internal short between the control
input pins, damaging R5; strangely,
the switching device had not failed.
My previous experience with these
devices is that the output device usually fails short-circuit.
While awaiting a replacement regulator, I decided to check the rest of the
PCB and found both the 100nF X2 capacitors on the input filter to be under
10nF. While you would not expect that
to stop the supply working, replacing
them is easy and the designer of the
supply put them there for a reason,
so I did so.
The replacement regulator arrived
and was duly fitted. The excitement
of powering the supply up again was
short lived when the 15V rails were sitting at 21V and the 12V rail was sitting
at 19V. The 5V rail was correct; it was
regulated off the transformer second-
ary with its own 7805 linear regulator,
so this was to be expected.
At this point, at least the primary side of the supply appeared to be
working correctly; no smoke, no explosions, just a little too much voltage on
the secondary.
After sleeping on the problem, I
thought that maybe the excessive output was due to a lack of load; after all,
once in the mixer, the supply would
always be loaded by the rest of the
circuitry and the voltage would drop.
A dummy load was hastily knocked
up from some resistors and the supply
fired up again. This slightly reduced
the loaded rails but they were still nowhere near 15V and 12V.
Clearly, the feedback path between
the low voltage section of the supply
and the control TOP245Y was not acting to regulate the output voltage. As
is common on this type of supply, the
feedback path consists of a voltage divider off the 15V rail, a TL431 shunt
regulator and a 4N35 optocoupler to
isolate the signal between the primary
and secondary.
The voltage divider and filter capacitors all tested within acceptable
tolerances and the reference pin on
the shunt regulator voltage was close
to the expected value given in the data
sheet. Static tests with a multimeter
suggested that the optocoupler had
not catastrophically failed.
At this point, it was tempting to
load the parts “shotgun” and replace
everything on the board that had not
already been replaced, as this would
be quicker than further analysis and
fault finding. But having heard stories
of failed optocouplers and there being a general distrust of them amongst
some parts of the design community,
plus having plenty of spares, I rolled
the dice and decided to replace the
4N35.
This was the magic that finally reduced the rail voltages to within normal limits. The unanswered questions
now are about the chain of events
which caused the supply to fail; was
there a long-term over-voltage condition before it finally failed? Could
this have damaged other parts of the
mixer?
Due to the length of the interconnecting cables within the mixer, the
only way to test the other boards was
to fully reassemble the unit. Once assembled, the mixer powered up correctly and the expected LEDs on the
front panel lit up. The next test involved injecting a sinewave into each
channel and looking at the output on
the oscilloscope and checking the response of the controls.
This was a time-consuming job on a
12-channel mixer but it revealed no apparent damage with a clear sinewave
on each output matching the input,
allowing for the effect of the controls.
A final test with some music and an
amplifier was anticlimactic, with all
controls working as expected.
The reason for the failure of the
switchmode regulator and optocoupler will have to remain a mystery. I speculate that the reduced capacitance of the input filter capacitors
could have made the supply susceptible to mains-born transients, even
though it appears well protected with
The Behringer RX1202FX power
supply circuit with the faulty parts
highlighted in red.
66
Silicon Chip
Australia’s electronics magazine
siliconchip.com.au
a metal oxide varistor (MOV) across
the input.
Rangehood repair
R. G., of Cooloola Cove, Qld got sick
of failing switchmode power supplies
and decided to take an old school approach to repair a dead rangehood instead. This is what he did...
I have been retired a long time and
do very little electronic work these
days, but an old friend called to tell
me that her rangehood no longer
worked. As I had helped install it a
couple of years ago, and as they could
not get anyone to fix it, I said that I
would have a look at it and see what
I could do.
This is one of those rangehoods that
has a front glass panel that curves up
from the wall at the back of the stove
to the top of the rangehood some 700800mm above. The lower glass panel
is fixed while the upper one swings
out on hinges, and is opened by a 24V
electric actuator. It also has the display
and three touch buttons on it.
Since the rangehood would not operate at all, the first problem was to get
it open to get at the control board. To
do this, I removed the screws at the top
of the rangehood to release the hinges
holding the upper glass panel. Unfortunately, I still could not get my hand
in far enough to remove the pin that
releases the panel from the actuator.
I then noticed four screws in line
with the actuator, further back on
the top of the rangehood. Releasing
these enabled me to get the panel
far enough open to remove the pin.
I then disconnected the wiring from
the display and put the glass panel
somewhere safe. The actuator then
fell to the bottom of the metal box
with a loud bang, but fortunately, it
did not do any harm.
With hindsight, I should have removed the screws on the actuator first.
That way I could have opened the glass
panel on the hinges, which would have
given me enough room to hold the actuator with one hand while I removed
the pin with the other, enabling me to
put the actuator down more gently on
to the bottom of the box.
It was then only a matter of undoing three more screws and removing
the lower glass panel to gain access to
the workings. I removed two screws so
I could lift off the black plastic cover
over the controller board. I could see
a switchmode power supply at one
end with the fan control relays along
the top. The remainder of the box contained the control electronics.
A test showed that there was 230V
AC on the top of the board, but zero
volts on the rectifier diode cathode
connected to the transformer. I de-
A new linear power supply (right) was made using a transformer, rectifier,
regulator and some capacitors on a piece of veroboard. This was then mounted
on a piece of aluminium and connected to the failed board for testing.
siliconchip.com.au
Australia’s electronics magazine
cided to take the control box off the
wall and bring it back to my workshop for repair.
In my experience, these switchmode
power supplies never last long when
operating continuously, especially
in a hot environment like in a rangehood. With it on the workbench, I unplugged all the cables and undid two
more screws, allowing me to remove
the control board.
I found that a low-value resistor in
the 230V supply line was open-circuit,
having acted as a fuse. I replaced this
as well as the two high voltage electrolytic capacitors. One capacitor was
open-circuit and had leaked out some
of its contents. But even after those replacements, I still could not get any
power out of it.
I then connected my bench power
supply to the cathode of the rectifier
diode. The supply uses 25V DC rated
electrolytic filter capacitors, and contains 12V relays, so I thought that I
would play safe and set it to 12V with
a maximum current of 300mA. It then
powered up and everything worked
fine. The 24V actuator seemed to work
even with the 12V supply.
The fan was not running because
I had unplugged the unit from the
mains. However, I could hear the relays click when I changed fan speeds.
A search of my junk box revealed a
suitable power transformer, four 1A
rectifier diodes, a 2500µF 25V electrolytic capacitor, a 7812 regulator,
plus a few smaller capacitors and a
piece of veroboard. I used these components to build a new linear power
supply for the rangehood and mounted it into a piece of scrap aluminium
that I had bent up.
I then removed most of the parts
from the switchmode power supply,
including its transformer and inline
filter. I left the transient suppression
components in place. I also removed
its rectifier diode. I wired up my new
supply, tested it to make sure that all
was safe, plugged it into the GPO, and
away it went, good as new.
I just had to fabricate a proper metal
enclosure for the supply, which I pop
riveted to the back of the rangehood
box. The new power supply simply
slides into this case and is held in
by two screws so that it can be easily
serviced. After reinstalling the rangehood, and putting it back together, my
friends were pleased that it was all
working again.
SC
November 2019 67
|