STEAMING AHEAD

How to fire a Stanley.

The Stanley has a burner and a boiler under the bonnet, and a small two cylinder engine attached (directly) to the rear axle. There is no clutch or gearbox. Apply steam to the engine, and the engine turns the axle and you go. What could be simpler? BUT in order to do this, you have to have steam. What could be more complicated? Not much. Here we go. (B means ‘bibb’, as in the round handle you find on outside water supplies on a house.)

Fill tank with water (110 Litres.) Make sure you have fuel (gas, diesel, furnace oil, kero, natural gas, perfume, alcohol, anything that will burn.) (Tank holds 75 L.) and oil (tank holds 2 L).
Turn on air compressor. You can use the hand pump, but it’s a lot more work.
Pump pressure in fuel tank via lever growing out of the floorboards between the driver and the passenger seats. Pump to 15 psi, then attach air compressor to valve in the boiler compartment and apply another 45 psi to tank OR pump with hand air pump 100 times. Then use level to add another 40 psi, at 1 psi per stroke.
Open water feed valve (B) to boiler, and top boiler valve (B) to allow water to enter boiler. When water is at the correct mark in the sight glass on the firewall in front of the passenger seat, close both valves.
Open the throttle (on a quadrant below the steering wheel) and the cylinder water exhaust (B). You don’t want water in the engine when you start driving.
Turn burner ignition switch on dash. As this car has been converted to a Doble style burner, you don’t have to heat the burner with a blowtorch, and there is no pilot light system to worry about. The burner will ignite with a medium-loud POOF, and roar quietly.
When the steam pressure is at 100 psi (about 3 or 4 minutes), check to make sure there is no more water coming from the engine, and close valve (B) and throttle. Remember to keep pumping fuel pressure to keep between 80 and 100 psi. (Ten strokes every minute, more or less.)
Turn valve (B) to allow water to escape from top of boiler to prevent air-lock. Close valve.
Lift driver’s seat and pump oiler 4 or 5 times to put oil into steam. The engine is oiled by oil in the steam, supplied from the small tank under the driver’s seat.
If you don’t have to take off smartly, or go up a hill soon after starting the car, you can move off when the steam pressure reaches 200 psi. The advantage to this is that when the engine starts to move, a rod actuated by an eccentric will pump four small pumps, which will: pump water to the boiler; pump excess water back to the water tank; pump oil into the steam; and (YEA) pump fuel to the burner. If you have to move off smartly or go up a hill, you’ll have to wait until you have 400 psi of steam, pumping fuel manually all the while.
Open and close three or four move valves (B), the purpose of which I can’t recall.
Get behind the wheel, and move the throttle up the quadrant. The car will start to move. If you open the throttle quickly, the car will start to move like hell, especially if you have 500 psi of steam. On this car, as the condenser has been disconnected, there will be a ‘chuff’ on every piston stroke as the steam is exhausted into the air. At some point, when the steam psi reaches 550, the burner will cut out and the only sound will be the chuff of the steam exhaust. If the condenser were hooked up, there would be no sound, until you rolled up behind a pedestrian or cyclist and pulled the whistle cord, thus giving him or her the first notice you were there.
You have to be aware of what is happening ahead. You can run all day (well, no, but figuratively) at 75 kph, as the boiler will produce more steam than you need, but at 75 kph it will take about 50 metres to stop, as the brakes consist of a pair of fabric belts applied to the outside of a brake drum on the inside of the rear wheels. When you apply the brakes, they squeak. When you apply them hard (ie, to stop) they scream. In other words, this car makes no noise when going, and lots when stopping.
In an emergency, you can stomp on the left hand pedal, which will admit steam to the cylinders from the other side, thus putting the engine and the car into reverse. This is not recommended, except in extremis dire. You can also pull on the hand brake, which operates a pair of shoes on the inside of the drums just like a regular brake, and is more effective than the foot brake.

The limiting factor alluded to in # 13, re driving ‘all day’, is that with the condenser not working you can drive between 30 and 40 km before needing to fill up with water. You could go further, but you run the risk of a dry boiler, and that is not a good thing. When the car runs only in parades and car meets, it’s not a big deal, but if you wanted to go anywhere, it would be. The car comes equipped with a siphon hose, which you can drop into any handy stream and fill the tank in a couple of minutes. When the car was built streams were more plentiful than they are now, I guess.

So there. That’s the story of the Stanley. Am I going to buy it? I dunno. It’s interesting, but not very practical. (I did.)

Anyway, a quick recap of other stuff. We visited the California railroad museum in Sacramento. 10/10 for museums. Too much to list, but the most impressive exhibit was the last big steam loco built in the USA, a 4-8-8-4 cab forward, which ran on the Southern Pacific through the Rockies. They put the cab in the front to get the crew away from the smoke in the tunnels. Also went to the Towe Automobile museum, probably a 9/10 (no steam car, but several electrics, including one of the 12 GM experimental models that didn’t get crushed), and the State Indian Museum, 6/10: very complete on a small number of different things but limited in scope. (Couple of hundred baskets, lots of clothing, tools, and implements, but no uh, um, er, well, maybe there just isn’t that much you can put in an Indian Museum, especially if the Indians in question didn’t make totem poles.)

We left Sacremento, and I showed Mary the Malekoff Diggins (look it up) by going in the back way, over 25 km of very winding, very vertical gravel road. If you ever go, do so from the northwest, from North San Juan, which we also visited. (It hasn’t changed, Mark.)

Spent the night in Nevada City. Then on to Indian Well, right up on the Oregon border, in the middle of the Lava National monument. Spectacular, to say the least. Mary was going to make dinner, but when she turned on the interior light there was nothing. It might have been made by Lucas. Fortunately the two burner cooktop is propane and doesn’t need battery, so we had a pretty good dinner in the last rays of the setting sun. Next day, Saturday, we drove to Bend, Oregon, and found a FLAPS. I have to write a letter, so I’ll add it here and I won’t have to do the whole thing twice to explain.

To: Customer Relations, SHUCKS Auto Parts

Dear Sir or Madam:

I wish to commend the work of three of your employees. I own a camperized Dodge Caravan, with the house battery in the most inaccessible place in the van: under the floor in the rear, serviced through a panel just large enough to admit the battery. One cannot see the battery fluid level without removing the battery, which takes about 30 minutes, and another 30 to replace it. Consequently, it doesn’t get serviced as it should. My wife and I were on a trip to California when we discovered we had no house power. I stopped at one of your stores and explained the problem. The counterman loaned me tools, and I got the battery out. I put it, covered thickly with road grime, on the counter, and they tested in. To everyone’s amazement, it checked out very well, but the cable terminals were corroded and the battery needed water. They sold me the terminals and a crimper, gave me the water, and I got it all installed and working.

During the whole episode, they were cheerful, helpful, and patient. Most of all, they were honest. They could have looked at the meter, said, “This battery’s history,” and sold me a new battery, keeping the perfectly good one for their own use. But they didn’t.

I was very impressed, and thought I’d write this letter of thanks. The names of the three are: Tom McAfee, Nate Wheeler, and Jake Troyer, at the store in the south side of Bend, Oregon. My thanks to them, and to you. Unfortunately, there are no Shucks stores where I live in Victoria. B.C., but I’m going to make this as widely known as I can in the US, and as I’m active on several car discussion boards, that won’t be difficult.

Yours truly,

Ian Cameron,

ianc@uvic.ca

By the way, we stopped at Crater Lake on the way to Bend, and my advice is, if you’re going to do that, drive around the Lake clockwise. That way, you’ll have the Lake on your right, and be on the inside of the road in the most precipitous spots. If you go over, you’ll have a chance when you hit the water 40 meters down. If you go over the other side, it’s 100 metres to a rocky end. I’m writing this at a state campground at Culver Lake, near Madras, full of great big rigs and ski boats. I can imagine what the lake will be like. We’ll be in Washington by noon. More to come.

And here we are, after an interesting day’s drive through the hills and plains, in Wenatchee, at a motel, as the local campsites are all full of folks with great big rigs making the most of the last days of summer. But it gives me a chance to send this, and here it is.

Best to all, Ian and Mary.