mijobooks Chapter 61 Old Fang
Chapter 61 Old Fang
Before dawn, the seawater in the stone trough was half-tide, lapping against the hull of the ship with muffled sounds that carried from the shed all the way to the workshop entrance.
Old Fang squatted at the workshop entrance striking a match. The wind was blowing in from the seawall. The first match didn't light, but the second one did. He quickly cupped his hand around the flame to light the cigarette.
The crack on his finger, which had been soaked in diesel fuel for most of his life, had become even deeper this winter. He had to soak it in hot water in the morning to soften it before he could clench his fist.
The three wooden signs had already been wiped clean, and the old cotton yarn used for wiping them was still draped over the railing, dripping water.
He took a deep drag on his cigarette, casually tossed the matchstick into the stone trough, and stood up to dust off his trousers.
Today is the last day of the training course.
This batch of trainees has several more than the last batch; Old Chen's brother-in-law brought two fishermen from the same village.
Hong Chuandong then introduced a young man from Hongjia Island, and together with a few others from the town on the other side, nearly twenty people sat in the classroom.
Ahai was responsible for teaching diesel engine principles and troubleshooting, Lin Xiue taught the basics of grouting, Ding Haisheng taught welding safety, and Aguang was responsible for the identification and registration of old parts.
Old Fang only taught the first and last lessons, explaining the structure and working principle of diesel engines, from the intake stroke to the exhaust stroke, with the blackboard covered with cross-sectional diagrams.
He didn't use lesson plans when lecturing; he just held a piece of chalk in his hand and drew whatever he was talking about.
After finishing the drawing, he used his finger to mark the parts on the diagram, clearly explaining the name and function of each component: intake valve, exhaust valve, piston, connecting rod, crankshaft.
The trainees included both veteran fishermen and young men. The veteran fishermen had hands covered in cracks and calluses, while the young men had just come off the boat and still smelled of fish.
Some of them listened very attentively, taking notes in their notebooks, their handwriting crooked and messy; others couldn't keep up, so they simply stopped taking notes and just listened, their eyes fixed on the cross-sectional diagram on the blackboard.
Old Fang didn't rush him. After explaining a section, he would ask, "Did you understand?" If no one answered, he would explain it again.
No new lessons will be taught on the last day.
Old Fang went through everything he had taught over this period of time from beginning to end, and then had the students take turns to practice on stage.
For diesel engine disassembly and assembly, each person had to remove one cylinder head bolt and then put it back in. The job was considered done only when the torque wrench clicked.
During troubleshooting, Ahai set three faults on the 6135 training machine: fuel injector blockage, return oil pipe filter blockage, and thermostat jamming. The students lined up to troubleshoot.
For the basic grouting, Lin Xiu'e laid out a row of old ship planks next to the stone trough, and the trainees squatted there using chisels to carve the grooves.
She looked at them one by one, pointing out those that were too deep and those that were too shallow, and making them start over.
During the welding safety demonstration, Ding Haisheng stood in the welding area and explained how to use fire extinguishers and sand buckets. After he finished, A Guang demonstrated the flat corner joint on a scrap plate. After the welding slag was removed, the trainees were asked to use a weld ruler to measure the width and excess height of the weld.
Old Fang stood at the workshop entrance, looking at the mess in the yard.
Qiu Changhai sat on a stone stool by the stone trough, twirling a walnut in his hand, with Old Sun's sampan in front of him.
The grooves on the sampan were cut a few days ago, and the new planks have been inserted. Today, we're sealing the last gap.
Qiu Changhai didn't spin the dough himself; he let Lin Xiu'e do it while he sat beside her and watched.
Lin Xiu'e tore the hemp fibers evenly, smoothed out the tung oil putty, and finished twisting the entire seam.
He stood up, walked over, and touched the seam with his finger. He didn't say anything, but simply sat back down on the stone stool, took the walnut out of his pocket, and held it in his hand.
Old Fang watched this scene from afar, his lips twitched, he stubbed out his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, stood up, dusted off his trousers, and turned to go into the workshop.
At noon, the cylinder head bolts needed for the provincial skills competition arrived.
Wang Cunzhi delivered it on his motorcycle; it was a box of new bolts, made in Shanghai, with precision-machined threads and stamped serial numbers on the bolt heads.
Old Fang laid the bolts on the worktable, wiped them clean one by one with cotton yarn, and examined the threads against the light.
Each one of these has to be taken apart and put back together, and every single one has to be done perfectly.
When he walked onto the dock, Ah Hai was squatting in front of the workbench, calibrating the torque wrench.
The old-fashioned diesel engine that was brought to the factory still had sea salt residue on it, and dark red rust came out when the bolts were unscrewed.
Old Fang picked up a new bolt and ran his thumb along the sharp edge of the thread: "The mechanic who made this bolt had a dull cutting edge. The last cut wasn't machined, it was squeezed out."
He held the bolt up to the light; the arc at the root of the thread was smooth and even, without any chipping.
If the knife were even half a bit duller, it would be ruined.
Ahai took the bolt and turned it over in his hand for a while. The only sound in the workshop was the dripping of machine oil being squeezed out of the cotton yarn.
Old Fang picked up the old wrench he had used for over ten years from the ground and squatted down in front of the diesel engine.
This wrench had been with him for most of his life; the teeth were worn down to almost nothing, but it still fit perfectly in his hand.
When he loosened the first bolt on the cylinder head, he didn't use the new torque wrench; he used the same old, clumsy one.
He wanted to disassemble the diesel engine from start to finish and incorporate the provincial competition's scoring criteria into every movement.
The intake manifold, high-pressure fuel lines, and fuel injectors were all removed and arranged on the worktable in the order of disassembly, with cotton yarn placed under each set of bolts.
Ah Hai squatted down beside him, holding a torque wrench. He asked Ah Hai to recalibrate the parameters of the cylinder head bolts first.
According to the scoring rules for the provincial competition, the torque of each bolt must be measured three times and the average value is taken. If the torque is slightly off, one point will be deducted.
Last year in the competition, the service station won first place as a team. That was the first time the service station had participated in the provincial competition.
Before the competition, Qiu Changhai and Lin Xiue went through every step of the sewing process countless times from beginning to end, while Lao Fang repeatedly disassembled and reassembled the diesel engine with a stopwatch.
This year it's Ahai's turn to lead the team to disassemble the main unit, and Lao Fang is going to hand over his old, clumsy wrench to Ahai.
He placed the wrench on the worktable and had Ah Hai use it to tighten the remaining bolts, recording each torque value on the maintenance sheet.
When Ahai took it, Lao Fang subconsciously opened his palm.
The old wound on his palm, stained with diesel fuel, was scratched by the burrs of the new bolt, leaving a row of fine red dots, with faint traces of blood seeping out.
He didn't clench his fist; he simply turned his palm over, glanced at it in the light, and then withdrew it.
In the afternoon, the light in the workshop gradually dimmed.
Old Fang asked Ah Hai to put the disassembled parts back together, while he stood quietly watching the workshop from the side.
The torque wrench hanging on the wall is a new tool provided by the province; it has a dial and clicks when tightened to the specified value.
The old, worn-out wrench in the corner, its teeth worn smooth, is still hanging there.
He was the oldest person at the service station, and had been standing in this workshop for who knows how many years.
From three dilapidated stone houses to now, from one person dismantling and assembling a diesel engine to now Ahai being able to lead a team independently.
The loquat leaves outside the window rustled in the wind, and birds darted past the branches, flying swiftly.
He looked down at his hands, turned his palm up to the light and examined them again, then gently placed the wrench back on the worktable.
Outside the window, along the coast, the waves in the stone trough were much faster than usual.
In the evening, Ah Hai finished tightening the last bolt, and the torque wrench clicked its final click.
He noted the torque value on the maintenance sheet, wiped the wrench clean, and put it back on the tool wall.
Jiang Haiping took out the competition registration form from the drawer and wrote Lao Fang's name in the column for disassembling and assembling the main unit.
Old Fang glanced at his hands at the workshop entrance, closed his toolbox, and said, "I'll soak them in hot water when I get home tonight."
Ah Hai responded from behind him, picked up the old, clumsy wrench from the workbench, and put it back on the far left of the tool wall.