Anthony Allison on sun 14 mar 99
Hi all,
I thought I had seen it all. There was the time I hatched the brilliant idea
to tumble stack my kiln so I could salt lightly without ruining my shelves.
Great idea except when I opened er up the 6 foot mass of pots had shrunk
down to about 2 feet. Nice effects but unloading with a crowbar wasn't what
I envisioned. 300 pots is a tough lesson in gravity. Then there was an
unloading last year when I removed a pot off the top shelf and watched in
horror as the top shelf shuddered and started the whole stack falling to the
left. I jerked to catch the stack dropping the pot I had in my hands- caught
the stack and sort of miraculously kept the domino effect at bay. I was
alone and studied for 10 minutes as best I could if there was anything I
could do to permenently stop the impending crash. Sure- if I could just
quickly ram a pot between the shelves and the kiln wall, my nightmare would
end. You guessed it, the pile has its own kinetic ideas. The hand was slower
than the eye but the crash of 300 pots, shelves, furniture and hard work
hasn't really stopped resonating in my mind.
Yesterday, I finished stacking the kiln with another three weeks of hard
work. I opened the ports, popped off the burners and backed off the flame to
a whisper candling. We started cleaning up the mess. Later, at around 7 pm,
I had the temp up to about 1300 degrees F. We decided to take a break and
eat dinner. The rate of rise was still very slow and I knew that I had
plenty of time to eat and then start watching for reduction temp. After
dinner, the temp was still around 1400 so I cranked the valve a bit,
listened to the eight burners rumble and went back to cleaning up. When I
reached 1650, it was time to adjust the damper and the burner butterflies
for reduction. In the back of the kiln on the floor there was a salt shaker.
I wondered if someone had dropped it by accident back there. hmmmm.
At 1850, after some serious reduction for my shino, I really lit up the sky
with some of that propane juice. it wasn't very long before I reached 2000.
I decided to check the cones in the lower bung. No Cones. The flame looked
frothy and slow but I could see orderly shelves with pots on them --WHEW!
Let's check the top ports. NO
POTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Words cannot describe the depth of panic and angst that followed as we
shut down the kiln. The sound of that silence with squirts of air escaping.
Were any pots spared? Which glazes were fused?
Yup, 12 hours of anxious waiting later, they were all fused, stuck together,
broken, chipped, ruined. You probably wont believe it, but I promise I am
being truthful, there were actually three really highly experimental
cutting edge type works that made it . One of them was so buried in rubble,
yet it was unscathed. (it had a salt shaker in it that I poured out. One I
later broke trying to remove a kiln post from inside it. It was your two pot
firing.
With three days left befor two shows, we seriously considered getting drunk
and going out to play on highway 169. As I write, my kiln has once again
come to life and my old dusty bisque on the shelves that I mostly hate has
been given a new lease on life. YOU KNOW the kiln isn't going to eat these
butte ugly chunks of lovin!
It's really tough to get through a serious setback like this. I am not a
missionary, and I am not one to preach, but If you get into a tough bounce,
and you have a GOD , ask for his help in restoring you. It works.
Warmest Regards,
Tony
PS Make chunky style pots with NO projections !!!! Call the above scenario
pot enhancement.
gwalker on mon 15 mar 99
------------------
Loved this story, Anthony. Thank you=21 Reminded me of one of my disasters
way back (still have them.... =21)
In all the postings I have read this past 6 months or so, I have not
seen one relating to diesel kilns. Thought I would just relate a story
from my early days in clay =85 a nightmare (with a happy ending). Someone
a while back wanted horror stories about kilns =85 here's just one of
mine. Hope you enjoy=21
In the early 70's, Alan Peascod (great Aussie potter) published the
plans for a 140 cubic foot diesel-fired kiln. It was a three-chambered
climbing kiln fired with pot burners and vapour jets. We liked the sound
of this kiln =85 it was simple in construction and apparently incredibly
economical to fire. It could also be fired in just a few hours, so
powerful were the diesel vapour jet burners. Situated 20 miles out of
town also precluded the enactment of restrictive regulations enforced
within the town limits.
Construction took place under a galvanized iron lean-to behind the
studio, the frame for the roof being made from sapplings I had cut from
the surrounding bush. Very basic construction, but non-the-less visually
appealing in a shanty kind of way. I had made the burners from 2-inch
pipe fittings and scrap steel from the local scrap metal dealer,
simplifying the design to suit my limited skills in forming metal. The
blower for the forced air was a beautiful piece of equipment purchased
from South Australia, and, from memory, delivered a staggering amount of
air at about 14-inches of water gauge pressure. This was the only item I
had to purchase new.
A few weeks passed and we were ready to fire just the last chamber as a
test. It was about 40 cub. ft. The wicket was clamped and slurried, and
I had decided to light the single pot burner in the rear of the kiln to
warm it up over night. All the unfamiliar hard stuff like changing to
the vapour jets at red heat would be done with moral support some time
during the following day.
With a little trepidation I lit the weighted wick in the pot burner,
adjusting the air and diesel flow for a steady, gentle flame, pushing
the burner through the half-brick opening where it sat, a couple of
bricks below floor level, firing into the kiln proper through a port.
After 15 minutes or so, all appeared to be going to plan, so I poured
myself a gin and tonic by way of congratulations, pulled up a chair and
watched this wonderful invention do it's stuff, mesmerised. It was
working perfectly=21 Amazing=21
What I hadn't noticed while concentrating on this little wonder was a
very nasty storm approaching up the valley with incredible speed. The
blower was noisy, and so was the burner =85 a rumbling, which disguised
the thunder. Night was approaching, so I was not surprised at the
darkness closing around me. A few raindrops on the adjoining concrete
path jolted me back into reality and after a quick assessment of the
situation I made a dash for the house, about 40 feet away, to close the
windows and batten down.
The moment I set foot on the landing, a bolt of lightning struck a huge
gum behind the house and sent a large branch crashing on to a water
tank. That was it=21 Inside the house, slamming the door behind me. The
rain by this time was pelting down, so I rushed about the small, timber
cottage closing all doors and windows. By the time I had completed that
task, more lightning bolts had struck other trees within metres of the
house. Frightening=21 The house was shaking on it's stumps accompanied by
me shaking on my own skinny pins=21 Nightmare=21
Darkness had come prematurely with the storm, and as I looked through my
bedroom window towards the kiln, I could see the flicker of the burner
still alight, praying it would stay that way. My prayers were not
answered (not surprising for this child=21), and the next bolt of
lightning took out the power. No fan=21 BUT =85 plenty of diesel fuel
dribbling into the burner =85 and =85 the 250 gallon tank stood on a stand
at roof level only a few metres from this flame=21 Only one thing for it =85
make the dash to the fuel tap and turn it off=21
Back out to the landing again, only to be greeted by yet more bolts of
lightning, this time striking the trees at the bottom of the yard beside
the creek. Not for this child a dash across that short target range=21
Call me chicken if you will, but self-preservation was foremost in my
dizzy mind right then=21 Back to the bedroom window to watch. The only
light now was from staccato flashes emanating from the rapid-fire Thor,
in the heavens, directly above me.
I swear a million visions zapped through my addled brain in those next
few frightening minutes. I could see the flame growing larger and wider
as the diesel continued to siphon into the pot burner. With no forced
air, it was burning with a very smoky flame =85 all the time the base of
the flame growing wider and wider as the diesel spread over and soaked
into the concrete and bricks. Before long, the plastic tubing had burnt
through, resulting in diesel flow (full 250 gallon tank=21) becoming a
3/8th inch stream=21 Bigger flames =85 and now the bark on the sappling
upright was alight=21 Oh=21 Oh=21 More bolts of lightning and, now, =
torrential
rain=21 I would surely be dead soon=21
Once more I bolted to the landing only to be driven back by the fear of
being struck by lightning. The bolts were only seconds apart =85 the
thunder jarred through my chest, and I was convinced this was all aimed
at me. Thankfully, Thor had left his glasses at home that day. Missed=21
But only just=21 (The following morning, I found 12 trees and one
telegraph pole struck within 100 metres of the house=21)
Of course the storm passed almost as quickly as it had snuck up on me,
allowing me at least to turn the fuel off at the tank, and then deal
with the fire. Putting out the fire took ages. The only water supply was
from an overhead tank, and the pressure from this was scarcely more than
a trickle. The hose was not long enough to reach the seat of the fire,
so buckets were employed. I felt so alone and helpless=21 The diesel had
soaked into the bricks and concrete, and refused to be put out. Then I
had a bright idea=21 My throwing bucket of slip=21
It worked=21 Where straight water had done nothing to quench the burning
fuel, the slip worked wonders=21 I was saved=21 Every bucket of slip I could
find was poured over that bloody fire, giving me a feeling of great glee
and satisfaction. I had beaten it=21 There is a God=21
There are other horror stories about that monster, but they can wait.
Just writing this has my adrenaline rushing. Time for a stiff gin, I
think=21 LOL=21
Geoff ... reminiscing .... and glad it's been a lovely day ...
http://www.cronulla-pot.com.au/
Sylvia See on mon 15 mar 99
Unbelieveable!!!!! Lord I really am sorry for all the cursing I did about
the large bowl that cracked in my Raku firing last week, and I knew it was
possible, using high fire stoneware with no grog. We have all just read your
post and run the gaunlet, about the loss of time, the loss of work, and if
it was going to a show, the dollar value of the pieces lost. I'll tell you
what. I want to help if I can. You go to sleep tonight, and I'll stay up all
night, stewing for you. Your character is amazing, as your sense of humor
shows in the subject line. I will wait for a few weeks before I wish you
happy potting.
Sylvia See Clareholm, Alberta sylviac@telusplanet.net
-----Original Message-----
From: Anthony Allison
To: CLAYART@LSV.UKY.EDU
Date: Sunday, March 14, 1999 1:00 PM
Subject: CROWBAR Pot Tenderizer. This basic potters tool....
----------------------------Original message----------------------------
Hi all,
I thought I had seen it all. There was the time I hatched the brilliant idea
to tumble stack my kiln so I could salt lightly without ruining my shelves.
Great idea except when I opened er up the 6 foot mass of pots had shrunk
down to about 2 feet. Nice effects but unloading with a crowbar wasn't what
I envisioned. 300 pots is a tough lesson in gravity. Then there was an
unloading last year when I removed a pot off the top shelf and watched in
horror as the top shelf shuddered and started the whole stack falling to the
left. I jerked to catch the stack dropping the pot I had in my hands- caught
the stack and sort of miraculously kept the domino effect at bay. I was
alone and studied for 10 minutes as best I could if there was anything I
could do to permenently stop the impending crash. Sure- if I could just
quickly ram a pot between the shelves and the kiln wall, my nightmare would
end. You guessed it, the pile has its own kinetic ideas. The hand was slower
than the eye but the crash of 300 pots, shelves, furniture and hard work
hasn't really stopped resonating in my mind.
Yesterday, I finished stacking the kiln with another three weeks of hard
work. I opened the ports, popped off the burners and backed off the flame to
a whisper candling. We started cleaning up the mess. Later, at around 7 pm,
I had the temp up to about 1300 degrees F. We decided to take a break and
eat dinner. The rate of rise was still very slow and I knew that I had
plenty of time to eat and then start watching for reduction temp. After
dinner, the temp was still around 1400 so I cranked the valve a bit,
listened to the eight burners rumble and went back to cleaning up. When I
reached 1650, it was time to adjust the damper and the burner butterflies
for reduction. In the back of the kiln on the floor there was a salt shaker.
I wondered if someone had dropped it by accident back there. hmmmm.
At 1850, after some serious reduction for my shino, I really lit up the sky
with some of that propane juice. it wasn't very long before I reached 2000.
I decided to check the cones in the lower bung. No Cones. The flame looked
frothy and slow but I could see orderly shelves with pots on them --WHEW!
Let's check the top ports. NO
POTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
!!
Words cannot describe the depth of panic and angst that followed as we
shut down the kiln. The sound of that silence with squirts of air escaping.
Were any pots spared? Which glazes were fused?
Yup, 12 hours of anxious waiting later, they were all fused, stuck together,
broken, chipped, ruined. You probably wont believe it, but I promise I am
being truthful, there were actually three really highly experimental
cutting edge type works that made it . One of them was so buried in rubble,
yet it was unscathed. (it had a salt shaker in it that I poured out. One I
later broke trying to remove a kiln post from inside it. It was your two pot
firing.
With three days left befor two shows, we seriously considered getting drunk
and going out to play on highway 169. As I write, my kiln has once again
come to life and my old dusty bisque on the shelves that I mostly hate has
been given a new lease on life. YOU KNOW the kiln isn't going to eat these
butte ugly chunks of lovin!
It's really tough to get through a serious setback like this. I am not a
missionary, and I am not one to preach, but If you get into a tough bounce,
and you have a GOD , ask for his help in restoring you. It works.
Warmest Regards,
Tony
PS Make chunky style pots with NO projections !!!! Call the above scenario
pot enhancement.
Carolynn Palmer on tue 16 mar 99
Even though I fire in electric kilns (usually to cone 9), I used to have had
this kind of experience every now and then, it just seemed as though the whole
load had been 'spin cycled while firing and nearly everything, pots, shelves,
posts and all had to be crowbared (a verb) out of the kiln.
In thinking about this, I decided that all it takes is one shelf post to give
way and it all crashes down during the firing. I threw all of my old posts,
especially those skinny extrusions, including those well-loved cut firebricks,
into a corner of the kiln room with most of the warped, bent shelves. Then I
went searching for the most stable design in shelf posts I could find.
About this time, I happened into my local ceramic supplier and he had on
display, shelf posts that were hollow extruded columns that had three
interlocking notches on both ends. I purchased a bunch of them (they come in
2 inch height and 1/2 inch height) and I have not had a disaster since. The
notches are three feet touching the kiln shelves and are very stable. The
interlocking design allows me the versatility to vary their height without
having posts of every height around. When they loose a foot or become too
cruddy to grind off any more, I replace them immediately. This is cheap
compared to losing a load of pots to the crowbar!
Carolynn Palmer, Somerset Center, Michigan
tmartens on tue 16 mar 99
I was giggling insanely while reading this post but at the same time
experiencing this sense of deja vu. While I have always been just a
tad jealous of folk with large kilns, I am now counting my blessings!
Thank heaven fasting we all suffer from Potters Syndrome.
What is potters syndrome? You open your kiln on a disaster, your eyes
stare unbelieving at the mess, your heart sinks right down through
the soles of your shoes, no doubt all the way down under to visit
those Oz potters. You know the true meaning of despair.
Then somehow, the kiln is packed for a glaze fire again and against
all odds you feel optimistic, happy, can't wait to open it on a bunch
of beautiful pots.
Been there? Done that? You suffer from Potters Syndrome! Isn't it
wonderful?
Toni Martens
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