Thursday, February 27, 2014

(26) Design draftsman’s job (6/6).

As soon as JB Camira was released a new model arrived on our desks, a VL Commodore. It was yet another completely new car, with new body, new chassis, and a new 3-litre engine with 4-speed automatic transmission. Both the engine and transmission were made in Japan by Nissan: 

Both the engine and the transmission were electronically controlled, which compelled me to start learning this, for me, an entirely new field. Our wiring contained multitude of new components, especially sockets and plugs, which was just as well, for the American Packard components were becoming hopelessly antiquated and certainly unsuitable for largely electronic system (for instance they had no moisture ingress protection).The work was fairly interesting, and I managed to bring it to the "first prototype" stage...

        One day my boss announced that as from the next day I was transferred to the computer section. My objections that I am completely ignorant of anything called computer were dismissed, "we all were in the same boat", as he put it (the year was 1983).
        The computer in question was a brand-new monster called Applicon, with 10 screens, which almost ground to a halt when all screens were being used at the same time

My general briefing was that I should concentrate on electrical design, and perhaps develop something of use for the electrical drafting and engineering sections.

After the 2-months long course I began to work on one of the 10 screens. I was given a couple of months practice before something meaningful would be expected of me. What that “meaningful” meant I was not sure, nor was anybody else. I decided to convert my hand-sketched electrical scheme into a computerised drawing. The colleagues and the bosses who came stickybeaking were told it was something I found inside the computer’s memory.

After a few months I read about a computer called Apple Macintosh 512 and went to a shop to take a look. It had a fairly small black-and-white screen, but it was unbelievably fast, and it contained a few programs which were to me very interesting. One of the programs was called MacDraft, and it was doing everything our GM graphic computer was doing, and much much more.

I left GM, bought the Macintosh, and began to work as a contract engineer. Nearly immediately I landed a contract with a small company called Fred Small and Sons, which was preparing a semi-automatic line for testing Camira engines produced by – my old GM. Subsequently I became known, and won a contract to design electrical system for Nissan Pulsar/GM Astra vehicles, after that similar contract for Toyota Camry/GM Apollo vehicles, then TD2000, Toyota again, Mitsubishi, Kenworth, Toyota… In between these automotive contracts I was working on electrical system for a line of robots for Ford, electrical switchboards – too numerous to list here, and to these I may devote a separate blog.


I spent 14 years at GM. Having come from a “communist” country I could still smell the “communist” practices, especially in the way of putting into positions of some responsibility people with no knowledge, qualification or interest in the work. Why it was thus I never enquired, only suspected that there was some degree of corruption, certainly nepotism, and all mixed with a bit of incompetence on the part of high management. That high management was probably churned the same way as us below – and good luck to them, company run like that cannot last for very long. Thank you, GM, and good bye, and vale, forever.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

(25) Design draftsman’s job (5/6).

Straight after the VK model work began on another new car named JB Camira. The electrical engineer being still in the Quality Control Department the job to design the electrical system fell into my lap. Still being in full swing after the previous model I began in earnest…

The new model was yet another “new” for General Motors. New by virtue of being the first “world” car, in the sense that its various parts would be designed and manufactured by GM factory anywhere in the world. One of those parts, an instrument panel, landed on my desk already, from GM Isuzu in Japan. At first glance I saw that the electrical socket on its back was unsuitable for production, for its propensity to disconnect during vibrations, due to lack of locking mechanism. On reporting it I was told that the panel is in production in Japan already, and performing without failure. The panel was eventually installed in production vehicles, and became a source of many headaches to the car owners.

The new model was new in several ways: it was the first GM car with front wheels drive, first with 4-cylinder engine made in-house, and first with the engine located east-west. The body was also new, and it had a new electrical system as well: 

Production of sedan version began first, but I liked this shape better.

A few months after start of its production I heard that the old Swabian Otto is retiring, and now I understood why my work was being signed by him without a word of question – frankly, the old dear couldn’t give a damn…

By the way, it was only me who called him “the old Swabian”, based on a meeting I was in with him and a few of his fellow chief section engineers. I was sitting between Otto and another German, somewhere from Saxony. The two were quietly exchanging words in their native language when Otto, obviously exasperated, said something like “Weltes groses Gabe ist ein Schwabe” (a Swabian is the best gift to the world). The guy from Saxony sent back some sort of swearword which I could not understand, whereupon Otto turned red like rooster’s wattle and did not utter a word for the rest of the meeting. So, to me, he remained the Swabian, the world’s best gift. Despite some minor disagreements I remember him fondly.

After Otto, Bob Newton became the Chief Electrical engineer. With him, still in his role as lamp engineer, we designed and pushed into production rear lamps for LH Torana car, so we knew a bit about each other.

About a month after Bob N. became the Chief, my neighbour at the desk, Jack V., turns to me with the words “Congratulations, Charles!” “What to?” I asked. “Don’t you know? Go and see the announcement in the corridor”. There, on a piece of paper were the words that “effective from dot dot dot 1978 or 79 Charles Hatvani is transferred from drafting to engineering section in the function of electrical engineer.” I went to see Bob in his office: “Aaaah, finally!” said he. It transpired that the proposal for my transfer was originated by Otto, it was only finalised by Bob. My work did not change much, but I lost some money: as the draftsman I had plenty of overtimes, which was denied to the engineers.

A few months later, while still in the middle of JB Camira development, Bob N. was relocated somewhere else, and we had new boss. His name was Roger G., fresh from the USA where he studied at Stanford University, and also worked somewhere for a couple of years. He was about 30-35 years old, the son of the local GM managing director. He was presented to us by the local Chief Engineer, and assumed the seat vacated by Bob N. After a week or two we were summonsed into his office, one after another. For my interview I prepared a little list of items I was currently working on: new vehicle, new fuses – never before used in a GM car -, new wiring, new fuse/distribution box, all designed here by us…. His eyes became glazed right after the fuses; my “wiring” speech he missed completely. Instead, he announced that electricity is his weakest point; he would be more interested in how I am managing my job – any problems with the colleagues, draftsmen, mechanics? Work pressures? No? Why not? Well, I was not prepared for that sort of discussion, and he was somewhat disappointed; we parted without any cordiality. His influence on my work, and on the work of the section as a whole was zero. Soon, after a few months, he was promoted to the organisation’s stratosphere and we lost sight of him.

We were given another boss, Jeff J. He, until very recently, used to sit a few desks from me as a design draftsman on sheet metals. His contribution to the electrical section was even lesser than that of his predecessor’s…

Wednesday, February 19, 2014

(24) Design draftsman’s job (4/6).

With the aforementioned German (Otto Tescher by name) I had another conflict. The highest car in the WB Series had a little electronic module installed in the boot. The module’s job was to monitor all the rear lamps and report any failure by way of a warning light on the instrument panel. The module came from France, it was my job to find a suitable location for it, and also marry it with our electrical system. The module was designed for a French vehicle with an electrical system different from ours, and I was unable to follow its installation instructions exactly. Had I followed them it would be possible to start the engine from the rear lamps area even if the automatic transmission was in gear. My sketches were given to the experimental workshop, mechanics there installed and connected the module, it was tested and everything worked correctly. Eventually some dozen of prototypes were fitted with the modules. Suddenly, the Quality Control department reported to the Chief Electrical engineer that the French module is NOT installed according to the French instructions!

I was called to Otto’s office where he started noisily monstering me from the moment I stepped in: why did I not follow the French instructions exactly, why am I causing him so many problems for which he must keep covering up to uphold our reputation, why…!? My attempts at explanations were drowned by streams of abuse, for he was interested only in total submission, he did not want to hear any explanations. I was forced to re-design the damned thing to the French instructions, knowing full well what was going to happen.

I was out of GM already for some couple of years when it eventually happened . There was a recall notice in the daily press, according to which hundreds of WB vehicles, fitted with the rear lamps warning modules, were being recalled because of their faulty French supplied modules. It transpired that when a mechanic somewhere in a workshop was replacing light bulb in rear lamps of one of those vehicles, the engine in that vehicle suddenly started, the vehicle lurched forward and pinned legs of a mechanic who was standing in front of the vehicle, to the wall. “Faulty diodes in the French supplied module”, the recall message said. Faulty my foot, I thought for myself: two broken legs because of one pig-headed man…


        VB, VC, VH, VK


An era of the so-called “world cars” began. A new vehicle was imported from (General Motors) Opel in Germany, and we were told to prepare it for local production. The original four cylinder engine was replaced by a six cylinder one, eventually even by an eight cylinder engine. We were busy for a couple of years, and the car ended up heavily modified with model designations VB, VC and VH. The modifications mainly took place in the body of the vehicle, which was not strong enough to take larger and much more powerful engines. After these three models there came one designated VK. For that model a locally produced engine was to be used, but the carburettor was replaced by a Bosch supplied electronic fuel injections system – first for a GM produced car. The vehicle underwent a serious face-lift, to distinguish it from the previous models. The electrical engineer having been transferred to the Quality Control department, the job of installing the EFI system ended up with me:

I was not entirely happy with the electrical system in those imported vehicles. For instance, we were not allowed to modify the original German fuse box, with its failure-prone ceramic fuses; also, various switches were fairly flimsy and were prone to breaking. Working alone, and having a fairly free hand, I replaced the ceramic fuses with plastic ones, and for these I had to design a new fuse panel, there being nothing even remotely similar in the GM catalogue of parts. There being a few new modules as well I relocated all of them, together with the fuse panel, from under the dash in the cabin into the newly-designed box mounted in the rear of the engine bay – another new for GM vehicles. To be fair to Otto, the Chief Electrical Engineer, I must say that he was signing off all these novelties without a word, without a question!

My biggest challenge was in form of the new Electronic Fuel Injection system. I had no experience with anything like it, and neither had the local branch of Bosch. Eventually I was allowed to invite an EFI specialist from Bosch in Germany, a man called Ullrich, or Urbanek, and together we completed the design in two or three days.

        After a couple of minor problems encountered in prototypes the production car performed perfectly from the first vehicle to the last (except for its starting problems, which may be mentioned in the next blog, Lord willing).. 

Sunday, February 16, 2014

(23) Design draftsman’s job (3/6).

Around 1974-75 I was relocated from the mechanical section to electrical as a design draftsman. It was the result of some internal reshuffle in the section, where a couple of draftsmen were promoted to design draftsmen, and somebody retired, or resigned, I think. All of a sudden I was where I more-or-less secretly longed to be, without anybody asking me whether I liked it or not.


At the time GM was planning to prepare a new car for production, a car designated HZ/WB. HZ was new only on the surface – new sheet metal, mainly. Inside everything was almost identical with the previous model, including all the electrical parts. I was supposed to work according to the time-honoured method: take components, including wiring, from the previous model, install it in the mock-up of the new one, and make them fit – meaning fit physically. I was working side-by-side with my “tennising” friend, the electrical engineer. I inquired ever so gently about the electrical properties, as distinct from the purely physical/mechanical ones, of our components. He showed no interest in the electrical properties, and, as far as I was able to ascertain, no deeper knowledge of any kind either.


In the meantime I continued to work surreptitiously on my version of electrical system of the previous car, LH Torana. In my opinion the wiring diagrams used by the GM to represent the electrical system, were totally unsuitable for calculations of electrical properties. What “diagram” should replace them I had no idea whatsoever, and I continued to peruse various electrical text- and handbooks in bookshops and libraries. Eventually I settled on a scheme that I judged as suitable for my purpose. It was a scheme of electrical installation in commercial building by Siemens, I think. I began to experiment with its shape and graphic representation of automotive components that are rather different from components in commercial buildings, such as transformers, isolators, consumers, etc. Nowadays, 28 years post-GM-H, I have no access to my eventual creation, which still exists in the GM archives under its original number 9942800 (the only one I remember from those days nearly 40 years ago), so I try to present some 5% of its shape as I remember it: 

Obviously, this little scheme was but a beginning. Slowly, the internal arrangements of electrical parts were being added, their electrical properties, thickness of interconnecting cables, designations of various contact points – and all of that was coming from my head.


At the time we had a bit of a fun as well. The cars’ top model was called WB Statesman. As a design draftsman I had the opportunity (and the duty!) to design wiring and other components according to my best judgment; the results were subject to approval by the electrical engineer and his superior, of course.


       Eventually a first prototype was ready for presentation to the top GM brass. In the workshop the local Managing Director (a Mr. Gibbs) and his counterpart from the US were sitting in the cabin, turning all the switches on and off, when between the two of them a red-hot smoking wire dropped from the roof and mini-exploded in a shower of sparks. The two gentlemen jumped out of the car, experimental workshop began to fill with acrid fumes, mechanics were running around with fire extinguishers - well, we, onlookers, had lots of fun that day.

What exactly happened? Wire, running along the roof lining and feeding the roof lamp was thick enough to serve one roof globe, as in the previous car. The Statesman, on the other hand, had three globes in the roof, and an additional couple of globes for the rear passengers. Since the two bosses turned all the roof lights on at the same time, the thin wire became overloaded, turned red hot and melted at the most inopportune moment. The fuse, from which the wire was fed, happened to be too large as well.


Subsequently there ensued panic in the electrical engineering section. It transpired that several hundred of these Statesmen were manufactured and distributed to dealers all over the country. The fix, consisting of replacing the thin wire with a thicker one, was not complicated; removing and replacing roof lining was a vastly more complicated, and costly, affair. At the time I did not know about the panic, I was not privy to such delicate information.


       It all ended well, though. Wiring in the offending vehicle was the only one that was “cobbled up” from the wiring of the previous model by the electrical engineer. Once the manufacturing drawings were consulted it transpired that the offending wire was of the correct – larger – thickness, and, therefore, all the several hundred vehicles released to dealers all over the country, were safe. And who changed the thickness of that wire? Charles Hatvani! Why did I not inform anybody? Maybe I did, maybe I didn't, but the manufacturing drawings were approved and signed off by both the electrical engineer and his superior. My calculations, under which I changed thickness of that wire, saved the company fairly sizeable sum of money, reputation notwithstanding. I was summoned on the carpet before the Chief Electrical Engineer, a tough-as-a nut old German, and told off for acting as an "maverick" , instead of receiving a word of thanks. Those were the ways of GM of old. “Were” – perhaps they are different these days (of which, knowing the overall GM culture, I have some doubts)…

(22) Design draftsman’s job (2/6).

    One of the electrical engineers, Clem Rogers, was my friend. We met outside our work by playing tennis opposite each other in the same competition. When, eventually, we came across each other at work we just exchanged a wink. His section was about 2 or 3 tables away from my desk. There were some 5 engineers in his section: a radio engineer, switch engineer, instrumentation, lamps and wiring; the wiring engineer happened to be my friend.

    Before my friend became wiring engineer, he worked in the seating section. The previous wiring engineer (Henry Valis) having died the post was given to my friend, who until then had absolutely nothing in common with electricity, and surely no interest in it either. He was not a graduated engineer, he was promoted to his seats from being a draftsman previously. Unlike myself he did not like electricity, he liked his seats. His electrical duties he used to discharge by using the method described above, in line with the GM tradition and custom: take wiring from the previous model, install it in the mock-up of the new model, and chop, hack and pull to shape.

To be frank, my knowledge of electrics, especially its automotive variety, did not extend much farther: in my youth I assembled a couple of crystal radios from kits, and, as a conscript in the air force, I worked as an electrical mechanic for some two years. Later, as air traffic controller, I dabbled in design of radar installations.

    I decided to look at the electricity a bit deeper. From a technical bookshop I bought an electrical handbook for American marines and read it from cover to cover. And I began to apply my newly-acquired knowledge to study the electrical system of cars I was working on – and began to discover some interesting things…

    In the handbook I discovered formulas that were vaguely familiar to me from my high school days: Law of Ohm, of Kirchhoff, description of batteries, electric motors, alternators, and so on. I found which of the engineers is in charge of these components in our cars. To my surprise – no one in particular. For instance, batteries and alternators belonged to the engine engineer, who was merely interested in their shape, mass and method of installation in the engine bay; the same with the instrumentation engineer, wiring engineer, front end engineer where the lamps are installed, etc. There was not one engineer in charge of electrical performance, electrical parameters, electrical compatibility – not one! If, for instance, the alternators began to fail, the first thing to do was to blame the supplier. If the supplier suggested a different brand, or a larger alternator, the suggestion was accepted, the alternators were installed and if they stopped failing the matter was forgotten. Nobody was interested why the alternators failed in the first place. If a fuse failed it was replaced by a larger fuse. That the larger fuse may necessitate thicker wires, for instance, has never been considered. And that was the situation with all electrical components. Being still a mechanical design draftsman I began to toy with electrical calculations of situations I encountered in the cars I was working on. My results were often, if not always, different from reality: here the wires were too thick or too thin; the alternator was (usually) too weak; the fuses were too large/small; earth returns were poorly constructed (the abominable holes in the sheet metal + self-tapping screws), and so on and so on.

For my calculations I was using electrical system of the vehicle called LH Torana for which I “designed” its wiring not a long time previously: 

    The car had several variants. Basic model had four-cylinder 1.9 litre engine, with carburettor, and four-gear manual transmission; three-gear automatic transmission, six cylinder and eight-cylinder engines were also available.

(21) Design draftsman’s job (1/6).

In July1969 I was told by a friend (thank you, the late George Hanzalek) that the car maker General Motors-Holden's is looking for draftsmen. It’s a profession I have never been interested in, and I have never been interested in cars either; long time before, at the high school, I used to get the worst marks in subjects such as geometry and technical drawings. After graduation I worked as an aircraft mechanic, land surveyor, labourer, flight instructor and air traffic controller. Immediately prior to the General Motors job I was washing crop dusting airplanes at the Moorabbin airport.

During interview at GM I was asked a few general questions by the Chief Draftsman John Carr, given a few half-completed geometric sketches to finish and half an hour later I was sent home to wait for an answer. A few days later he rang and told me that I could start next Monday.

For the first few months I worked as a detail draftsman. The work consisted of drawing car components from sketches supplied by design draftsmen, or by engineers. The components were mostly screws, nuts, brackets, cog wheels, cast iron parts of engines, etc. We were drawing on plastic "mylar" sheets using pencils, rulers, protractors, compasses, erasers and similar tools; it being 1969 the graphic computers were at least 15 years in the future.

It has taken at least a year for me to learn various tricks of trade: drafting technique as practised by the GM, the office culture and hierarchy (there were some 150 of us in one large room), relationship between various offices, workshops, etc. After a year or two I was promoted to the position of design draftsman, and the tedious job became a tad more interesting. This time it consisted of sketching parts of a car according to the requirements of the car modellers, the people who were sculpting the future car using wooden skeletons covered in clay. Sometimes I worked from their free-hand sketches, sometimes even from their bits of clay shaped in the form of the future part, sometimes from mere verbal explanations. My job was to translate these loose bits of information into technical information for use by the experimental workshop, by parts manufacturers and, eventually, by detail draftsmen. My masterpiece from those days was design of the instrument panel for the vehicle called LH Torana. Design of these mechanical parts was not exactly my kettle of fish, for I was more drawn to the electrical systems. I asked the chief design draftsman for transfer to the electrical section. To my surprise I was told that the electrical drafting pool consists of detail draftsmen only, that there is no design draftsman among them. And he added that there is not much electricity in these vehicles anyway. Hm, hmm and hmmm…

      I decided to take closer look at the electrical system of cars I was working on. At the time the car’s electrical system was fairly simple. It consisted of some electricity around the engine, starter, alternator, battery, front and rear lamps, instruments and a few lights and switches in the cabin. All these components were interconnected by a network of cables that were in the way of everybody who had anything to do with the cars. For that reason, the cables were suffering under unflattering names, spaghetti, octopuses, etc. One exception were battery cables that lived under their proper names. Their bulk and rigidity resembled mechanical parts, and their willingness to spark and even turn red hot when mishandled were respected by all.

    A year or two later, due to a spike in the workload, I was given a chance to assist the electrical section. Out of the blue I was given a job of preparing drawing of wiring for manufacture of a new car. It happened simply: an electrical engineer dropped a heap of “spaghetti” on my desk with the words that "manufacturing drawings are required by such and such time". The engineer was working according to the time-honoured method. “Spaghetti”, taken from a similar car which was already in production, were installed in the body of the car being prepared. Where they were long, they were trimmed to suit, where they were short bits were added. Results were given to the mechanics in the experimental workshop for beautification, and eventually to draftsmen to translate into production drawings.

    Having absolutely no idea what to do I embedded myself next to one of the draftsmen in the electrical section, who was glumly looking at a similar heap of spaghetti in front of himself. He was a spaghetti veteran, and with his help (thank you, Wolfgang Christel!) I managed to produce sketches that were converted into production drawings by a young draftsman.

    A copy of his drawings was used by another draftsman whose job it was to prepare electrical wiring diagrams for publication in service manuals. This is the result of his work in this case it is schematics of the electrical interconnections in the front part of the car:

     Following this excursion into the electrical section I returned back to my desk and continued with mechanical design work. The electrical experience, however, was bugging me: why was such a complex electrical job given to me, considering my absolute lack of any experience in that field? The explanation supplied by my section leader did not satisfy me: in this office everybody is expected to do everything…