The Darth Vader Chute in its last hour. Modifications had been welded on over the years making this look somewhat like the Darth Vader helmet.

When I was invited to check out the “Darth Vader Chute,” I wasn’t sure what to expect.

A routine site visit quickly turned into a real adventure when I found myself in the maintenance manager’s pickup, heading for the quarry. Worried about the prospects of another shutdown, he griped about all the things wrong with this junction. I’d been trying to visit with him for about five months, and finally, on this day, I got my chance to listen and learn.

Darth Vader was a poorly designed chute, just below the main crusher. It was supposed to handle 1400 TPH, but seldom met it’s goal. It got its nickname from all the patches, add-ons and fixes that had been bolted, welded, hammered and fabricated to improve its performance. Nothing really worked, but the look was amazing. It actually resembled Darth Vader’s helmet. George Lucas would have been proud.

Noise was a killer. The decibel range was off the chart. According to my measurements, it was like standing within 200 feet of a 737 jet engine under full power. You couldn’t carry on a conversation. So, we traded notes and made crude attempts at sign language.

Dust was belching everywhere, and general spillage was constant. They’d even bought a bobcat for the junctions on this beltline, just to keep it clear of debris. I had seen “big and bad,” before, but this one was a whole new chapter of “bad” for me.

Because of these issues, the quarry was limited to eight hours of production, five days a week. They could not run on evenings or weekends. In fact, all weekends were devoted to maintenance operations by a minimum of three-man crews. And that was just to get through another five days of operation without an upset.

Before that day was over I was given a chance to make a difference. I knew the problems could be fixed, but the whole system would have to be ripped out by its roots. The main constraint was that the redesign would have to fit up and mate perfectly to the crusher discharge and conveyor downstream.

The primary focus was a change in geometry. The goal was to deliver reliable production at maximum levels while minimizing noise and eliminating fugitive dust and spillage. During the initial recon and preliminary design phases, the maintenance manager asked if we could solve the same type of problems for two other junctions on the beltline at the same time. Fortunately everything fit the budget and the project was approved.

I’ll never forget the maintenance manager’s reaction when the junctions arrived. He just stood there, scratching his head while walking all sides of the lowboy. He kept looking at the Darth Vader replacement and finally moaned, “That thing is bigger than our break room. Judging by its size alone, I am guessing that it will get the job done.” He was right, but I couldn’t help thinking about what the crew might nickname these replacement junctions.

Tensions mounted as the junctions were unloaded from the trucks. When the install began, so did the grumbling. Comments like, “I’ve never seen anything like this before … hope it works,” came from everyone. Even the maintenance manager scowled and belted out, “You obviously have a different idea about chute design. Maybe we will all catch on if it actually works.”

Then came the acid test. At startup, the decibel levels fell well below 90, and you could finally stand next to the junctions and easily talk in a normal voice. There was no dust or spillage to be seen. Mission accomplished.

The maintenance manager was so thrilled that he brought the plant manager to the quarry to look it over. He was impressed by the workmanship, but told the maintenance manager to bring him back when the system was running. The maintenance manager laughed and quipped, “IT IS RUNNING!” The plant manager had to actually inspect the discharge from the sealed canoe system to see that 6-inch minus was flowing at full speed toward the plant.

The new chute fully installed and supported with external buttresses. Man sized doors 6 feet tall allow for easy maintenance. Only a handful of liners have been replaced in 15 years of operation.

That day was almost 15 years ago. The project was completed on budget, two new technologies were introduced successfully, regulatory issues were greatly reduced, and production efficiencies were substantially and reliably improved. Only a handful of the original rubber and ceramic liners in the main chute have ever been replaced. Dust and spillage became non-issues and the bobcat was retired long ago. The surrounding community stopped complaining about the noise, and weekend maintenance operations ceased permanently. Regular maintenance inspections have held steady at three-month intervals rather than weekly with ol’ Darth Vader.

Looking back it still amazes me that Darth Vader was replaced so quickly. From initial site recon, through design and approval, to final fabrication, and on to delivery, installation and commissioning was less than 80 days.

And, the saga goes on from here. Seven more junctions were replaced on the overland belt line during the next three years. From that day forward, we began a remarkable journey of new design, invention and innovation together. From this collaborative relationship, we not only improved life for this operation, we introduced a whole new generation of material handling technologies to the cement industry.

But that is another story!

Along the way, I have learned that every problem has a solution that is better for everyone.  In fact, that has become one of the guiding principles for my work.

Similarly, in his book, “It Doesn’t Take A Hero,” General H. Norman Schwarzkopf recalls his early days on the Vietnam battlefield following his graduation from West Point.  He quickly learned that “standard practices” are textbook, and casualties are real.  We have to adapt to overcome.

Most engineering assignments in mining operations do not typically involve life and death battles.  But, they nearly always include “quality-of-life” issues.  That’s in addition to safety, efficiency, reliability and cost-to-correct.  Hard rock mining solutions must be based on real-time facts, not just past practices, in order to make meaningful differences.

One of my first challenges to make a positive change was in a cement plant in northern California in 1995.  A problematic triple gate airlock feeder had pushed operation and maintenance crews to working on the machine, nearly every day.  Production was in constant jeopardy of interruption.

My first look at the machine was from a distance.  A crew of men was gathered around, wielding sledgehammers, screwdrivers, air wrenches, pry bars and every other stray tool that might get things fixed.  Remembering my dad’s bloodied hand, I could see the sweat, strained muscles, anxiety, bruises, and long hours of work on the bodies of these men.

What came shooting out of my mouth, without thinking, was “THIS HAS GOT TO STOP!” Then everything went quiet.  I could hear my own echo.  After a long silence, the Maintenance Manager said to me, “Brent, I want this problem solved.  I want to rip it out by the roots and I want you to design me something that will work the way it should.”

We did solve that problem with a brand new design triple gate.  In fact, maintenance intervals immediately went from every week to one full year.  Instead of constantly replacing wear parts every week, everything could now be managed during the annual shutdown.

Not only were the mechanical issues fixed, the “quality-of-life” issues were significantly improved for that maintenance crew.  These men no longer had to respond to middle of the night emergency calls.  They were able to plan more time with their families.  Their jobs could be better managed in normal shifts.  Life was better.

But what made the biggest impression on me was afterwards meeting these same men, now with smiles on their faces.  They would actually come up to me when I visited the plant and thank me for what we did for them and their families.  They were glad to see me, and I found it both easy and very satisfying to grow from consultant to friend.

So, if you ever hear me say, “THIS HAS GOT TO STOP,” just know that I am not kidding.  That’s part of what I live for.  That’s what this blog is about.