Going waste oil at last, with a kwiky burner.

My furnace chamber is about ten inches tall and 9.5 inches in diameter. Does that sound big enough room for both waste oil and an A10 crucible, so they don't give each other a cold shoulder.

I will be able to get my tool in there to do my part. I can make some really nice lifting tongs, if I need to.

I haven't had problems with a full crucible yet. So I think I am good in that aspect.

Soo an A10 crucible should be a nice max size.
By the way how much iron does an A6 hold?
Patrick

 

If you haven't bought the A10 I'd hold off until I have experience with the A6. You can pour over 15 pounds of brass from an A6 and a little less of iron (it's lighter). PMC advertises 9 kilos of brass in an A6, 19.8 pounds. By the time you have some crap slinging to the walls and you dip out dross you're doing good at 15#.

PMC is currently selling A6 at $39.50 free shipping. I think that's a good deal.

 

I paid about 50 something, shipped, for an a6 and an a4 from legend.

Legend - lmine.com - is in Nevada. I think they are in Sparks. They did a good job of packing my pots, too.

 

I agree an A6 would be a good starter. Looks like Legend is sold out for now but price is comparable to what OIF mentioned above. They're selling with shipping included so there's no loss in only buying one. If you buy the same type from the same source you stand a good chance of your tools always fitting (at least a reasonable chance). Your furnace will fit an A10 ok when the time comes.

Pete

 

Yesss! My needle valves came today. I can now start on the home stretch. I got two, one for use and one for backup. (And I hope I won't need it for that.)

Everything looks good right? I am so excited to get this burner done.
Patrick

 

NICE VALVES! And they have that all important wording right smack on the side! I'm with the other guys too. I built my furnace to easily take an A10, but started with an A6. I've said this before, but the first time you lift a mostly full pot of bronze out of your furnace, you better make sure you have your wits about you. Drop that sucker and things will never be the same.

Is that your workbench? That looks awfully familiar.

 

Ooh, man. Those are way nicer than mine!

 

I'll play. Got a pair of these collecting dust. The silver one on my furnace is also an Apache. These suckers arent cheap.

 

Those ones look just like mine only bigger.

Thanks! I am so glad to hear that, because they should be nice after how much I paid for them.

Like... Made in USA.

Okay I have a confession to make. I am a rebellious teenager, and I have been watching PMC supplies stock. And... their salamander A10 has been out of stock for a long time, but just the other day it came back into stock. Well... you can guess what I did. No I didn't buy one!
No no! I bought TWO! Don't worry I also ordered 3 A6s and an A4. I know I didn't listen to anything you guys said about trying the A6s first. But I am 19 years old and in my prime, cough cough cough. So I really think I will be able to handle them, now I will definitely use the A6s first. But I just couldn't miss PMC having them in stock. Please don't think I totally ignored everything you said about the crucibles, I actually did listen, I felt so guilty as I clicked "confirm order". I will make it up by posting pictures of them when they get here.
Sincerely apologetic... Patrick

 

My understanding is that crucibles don't fair well running at half full. I don't know how true that is? Anyone care to comment.

As for 19 and prime we've all been there, that's why we have aching backs, broken bits, scars and a desire to make life easier when it comes to painfull crap! I'm going to hobble my way to work and ask two guys to lift something for me

 

The only catch to having multiple crucible sizes is you then need lifting and pouring tools for each size!
And don't let us catch you picking up a crucible with one of these!
Or with kaowool gloves!




Crucibles actually get soft and flexible when hot! They even change their shape a little so good tool fabrication is important. Check out this thread for some ideas on what to make.http://forums.thehomefoundry.org/index.php?threads/homemade-crucible-tongs.79/

So you can see, settling down on say just 2 different sizes will save you from building tons of tools.

 

You will definitely not be seeing me do either of these. Did I ever tell you guys I once grabbed a just out of the furnace crucible with my bare hand? I have never let my hand get that close since and I never will. I have some pretty advanced fabrication equipment so you can be sure I will make some top notch tools.
Patrick

 

Cool, post photos in the tools section or start a new thread there of your build. Main thing to remember is think of the crucible kinda like an egg when it's up at temperature. Cradle it, support it securely and don't squash it. Expect it to get a little fatter as they get hot with the weight of the metal inside it.

 

Ah, 19. When you said teenager I thought Jeez, paper routes must really pay good these days, but then you said 19. I don't really consider 19 a teenager despite the "teen".

Right on. Learn to work safely now, make a habit of it, and it will pay dividends. I heard Mickey Mantle quoted as saying "If I knew I was going to live this long I'd have taken better care of myself." Some of it is inevitable but much of it is preventable. Jason's picture above is a great example.
I started with an A10 and things went ok. Filling it with sand will give you at least some idea of what to expect.

Pete

 

I was the little guy that could throw 140lb wood cable drums across the room with abandon until I got two very painful hernias. Now I look at heavy stuff and either say no or find another way, or other people to lift it. Not worth two days hospital and out for the count surgery just for the sake of pride/pig-headed etc.

I'm not saying an A10 should be too much of a challenge for a fit young man but don't lose your feet to a metal bath.

 

The Sand-Man does not take prisoners.

"Don't be Bold,
Address your mold,
Guard it well,
Till it grows cold -
Or the Sand-Man will come..."

(From "The Foundry Song," from a yet-to-be-published chapter.)

 

Yes, you have seen the Sand-Man.

 

Yeah I work on a construction crew long enough to earn money for my hobbies but then its hobby time!

I hate getting injured, lays me up and sometimes digs into my hobby funds. Bad gig all the way around getting injured.

I will certainly try that. Great idea!

Hmm, yeah I couldn't do that. I will make sure to take all the necessary precautions. My feet are probably the biggest part of me and I don't want to lose them.

I have never heard of that before. But don't you normally want to pour when the mold is warm?

All better now right?
Thanks guys for all of your experienced advice I appreciate every bit of it. Your injures will prove to be my key to longevity.
Now for some pics.

This my new array of parts, most of them are the same.

And here is what it is going to look like. Everything appears to be in the right place right?
Patrick

 

Here's the whole of the foundry song, with surrounding text:

" As if to supply a strange rejoinder, from somewhere nearby – it was not in the room itself, neither in the steam or the fuggy air – I heard a faint and mournful chorus ringed by faint echoes and smothered in long-hidden coughs. Sarah looked at me, her mouth open in the shape of an 'O'."

“Say your prayers, Foundry-man,
It's hiding well within the sand,
Hungry for the flesh of humans. ”

A step forward, toward the steaming pots of the pot-boilers, moving with the clock's numbers as they tickled half-past seven.

“Don't be bold – address your mold,
Guard it well 'till it grows cold
...Or the Sand-Man will come... ”

Sarah looked about to scream. Another step, and we were in the outskirts of the pot-boiling fog. Ahead lay bubbling plates for food and other matters. The song or whatever was due to continue – and a second later, it did.

“Keep a third eye open,
Gripping your tools tight... ”

“What is this third eye?” muttered someone immediately in front of the two of us. Was it the pot-tender, or someone who'd just gotten their serving-ware? It was impossible to tell from where we were.

“I think this is foundry work they are speaking of,” said Sarah. “I've done enough of it to have an idea as to its dangers, but whoever is talking now sounds like they've been doing brass and not merely soft metals – and not just common brass, but the worst kind.”

“Or is it?” I thought. The song or whatever then resumed – as if it had paused. Had it?

“Eruption... LIGHT!
Nevermore the night,
Mountain of Sand,
Burning hell takes your hand.”

“That does sound like badly-done brass-founding,” said Sarah. “Brass-founders either act like witches, or they are witches...”

The song or whatever resumed:

“The smell is wrong, the furnace bright,
Now comes a time for fright...
For the gaffer's gotten tight.”

“I know who it is, then,” said Sarah. “No sane founder pours when drunk.” Muttered, “witches. They have to be witches...”

The next portion, however, made for wondering – even if Sarah was likely to be right about the likely results of 'pouring metal while stupefied' as well as who would be 'dense' enough to try something that dangerous while in an impaired state.

“Drunken screams as it bursts its seams,
The cupola explodes and cuts the beams
And the roof-nails now learn how to bite! ”

“N-no,” muttered Sarah. “I know what this is, now – it's speaking of the Sand-Man.”

How she'd managed to miss that statement about the Sand-Man during the first portion was a mystery, at least to me.

Unless, of course, talk of that horrible being was simply 'taken for granted' among most people who melted and poured metal on the continent.

“More than that,” said the soft voice. “Much more. Now, keep listening, as this is a very old 'song' – one which has been passed down among those speaking for hundreds of years – and that because everything it describes is a brimming current reality in their line of work.”

“Uh, being drunk?” I asked. “That's a very bad idea around hot metal...”

There was no answer, save the 'song's' continuation.

“Keep a third eye open,
Grip your heart-strings tight... ”

The sense of horror grew by the seconds, as I only now realized what an earlier stanza had spoken of. These people were pouring iron – and I now recalled being told about the potential misbehavior of badly-done (cupola) furnaces like Frankie.

“Enter, fright!
Pour at night,
Melt my hand,
And off to the graveyard's land. ”

A step forward, as the person or persons before us vanish into the thick vapors of the boiling pot. It was as if this fume we two were entering was that of this dire place being spoken of. I could feel shaking underfoot – the dire furnace was about to spew its tons of iron 'like a whirlwind filled with just-honed straight-razors'. The dirge resumed:

“Now I entrust my soul to God,
For if the Sand-Man comes with his hod,
Let him kill me with just his stink,
And destroy my town in a single wink. ”

Hiss, bubble-bubble. Is that a stove in the murk with a pot aboil – or is that a vast swarm of just-poured castings – each lying in wait for the unwary so as to kill them like so many accursed witch-puppets? The sending-speech resumed:

“Hist, apprentice! Say not a word,
Hark yourself to that sound you heard,
It's the hot-iron pigs in the foundry bed,
They're hungry for you – they want you dead. ”

“Precisely the point,” said a terrorized voice somewhere nearby – a voice held hostage by a host of these dire red-orange slag-coated mounds, each one steaming and billowing towering vapors of heat. The song – if song it was – now came to its horrifying climax.

“No more nights,
That crucible, it's bright...
A cinder dies in foundry-sand... ”

A step further forward, and now truly enter the murk. Beforehand, we were but upon its outskirts.

“Eruption... LIGHT!
Nevermore the night,
Mountain of Sand,
Burning hell takes your hand. ”

“It's like being in a special room running one of the scary threadings,” said a voice from just behind us. “Those people should be careful about singing t-that song, as I can see everything that's in it when they speak it.”

“The worst is that thing,” said a shuddering voice further to our rear. “It comes up out of that dirt they use...”

“Sand,” said Sarah. “It's called sand.”

“Have you seen it?” asked this last voice – meaning the creature spoken of.

“N-no,” said Sarah, who then gulped. “I have seen much of what else was spoken of, or talked to people who have seen those things happen – and some of those people were marked by what they'd endured, so I doubt much they were telling lies.”

Yet while Sarah had in truth not seen this thing called the Sand-Man, I wondered about myself. Ahead in the ghostly fog, I seemed to be walking into a current nightmare instead of standing in line and waiting to be served. This was no longer a room perhaps twenty feet square, but the receiving-yard of a huge foundry.

The same foundry that I'd been hearing about – no, more than hearing of – earlier.

This was that same place named the Ghetto.

“We is in the ghetto now,” said the ghosts of a thousand dead founders, “and here, we sing that song so we can live another day without being turned into shrieking cinders.” Pause. “Drips are bad enough, and they kill often enough – but when there's hot metal handy, and the gaffer's gotten tight...”

Another step forward, and into the murk further. This is a foundry yard, and the tile-roofed sand-house is to the left. Ahead, I can both hear and feel the slow-turning last revolutions of the blower as it coasts down after a successful run. Iron lays ahead, vast swarms of ingots and castings, each cope and drag gouting steam and smoke into the air as it lays in the yard, each pair of flasks cooling slow. They'll remain lethally hot for hours yet – but that isn't the issue.

What is the issue is in the sand itself – in each flask-pair, in the heap within the sand-house – wherever there is more than 'a handful of dust'.

That creature named 'the Sand-Man'. It only needs a modest handful to be present and waiting. That is when one feels fear verging on terror, in fact. "