It Was Bound To Happen

It's a truism that when you work on something to fix one problem, another, sometimes related, sometimes not, will often pop up.

That was the case when I was tracking down the DC - DC charging issue I was having with the teardrop.

At one point I had my battery monitoring app open on my phone and noticed that when I closed the hatch, where the solar panel is mounted, the charge current from the panel dropped to zero, the voltage dropped to 13.2 (just below the battery voltage and likely cross-over through the charge controller from the battery), and the solar charge controller turned off.

Maybe a wiring issue? Because I was operating the hatch at the time, the wires between panel and charger had to flex and maybe they were failing at that point.

Anyway, a problem for another day.

Except that the next day, no matter how much I abused the hatch, I could not replicate the problem.

Oh well, just another one of those glitches the universe likes to throw at us once in a while.

Except when I went back on the 23rd and checked the charge controller's 30 day history I saw that charging stopped short of full between the 11th and 15th (the bright part of the bar-graft is bulk charging - take all the current the panel will give until the battery hits 14 volts - and the dim part is float - hold a maintenence voltage of about 13.47 - . In between is a short period of absorption - hold a voltage of 14.2 for a maximum of 2 hours, less if the battery wasn't discharged all that much overnight.) then there were several days where I got absolutely nothing out of the panel. Which only happens if I put a blanket over the panel. Even on the cloudiest of days I'll get something out of it.

Then it suddenly started working again on the 19th all on it's own.

So I started keeping a closer eye on things and consistantly found the panel not producing when it should have been. And it quickly got worse to the point when it never produced at all.

The options here are limited.

A wiring problem? Well I have three seperate inputs to the charge controller, three seperate sets of wires I can plug the panel into. Nope, unless all three sets of wiring failed at the same time, that wasn't it.

A charge controller issue? Not very likely, but since I have a spare controller on the shelf that's an easy thing to check.

Original controller, rated for 75 volts and 15 amps (input from the solar panels), on the left. Spare unit, rated for 100 volts and 20 amps on the right.

In fact, if I ever paired the 140 watt mounted panel with a 100 watt portable the combined output would be getting awfully close to that 15 amp limit in strong sun, so I'd be more comfortable with the larger, 20 amp, controller anyway.

Same input and output wiring. Just have to make a paper template to mark for new mounting holes back there where I can't see,

add a safety ground for that big finned heatsink (the ground is that white wire on the left side. The smaller controller's heatsink is a flat aluminum plate covered by the blue case so no safety ground needed), and we're good to go.

But as expected, this did not solve the main issue, just made the system a little more robust, but only if I could get it working again.

And to that end,  there's only one thing left in the system.

Compared to some things we depend on, solar panels are remarkably reliable devices, even though they are left out in the elements around the clock and pretty much ignored for years at a time. In fact new data indicates that panels are consistently lasting longer than we expected. Many manufacturers offer 25 year performance warranties, but now it appears that 30, 40, even 50 year old panels reliably perform at 75, even up to 90% of their original rating. (70% is often concidered the threshold for replacement.)

But they are man-made devices subject to failures other than performance degradation, such as material failures and workmanship glitches, so they usually also come with product warrenties - for defects and such - usually for 10 - 15 years.

I have had well over a dozen solar panels over the past 3+ decades, eight of which I still use (the rest have been sold on with various RV's), all of them in mobile installations subject to the added stresses of motion and vibration. And up until now I haven't had a lick of trouble out of any of them. - Yeah, up to now -

Of course, the only way to know for sure that this is my problem is to plug another, known working panel onto the teardrop.

I've been threatening to buy a portfolio style

portable panel that I can use to keep the Jackery topped up with when the Ranger is parked for several days while I'm camping. (The fridge lives in the Ranger at night and runs off the Jackery.)

This seemed like an un-impeachable excuse to go ahead and do just that. And even if it wasn't, $90 for 100 watts of solar plus a handfull of wiring adapters is hardly worth impeachment proceedings!

And yep - a couple days later Amazon handed off this portable unit up at the gate (We have a big deck-box up there for packages since we do a lot of online shopping to avoid having to mingle with people. Sometimes I feel bad for the postman because out here Amazon drops everything off at the local post office and makes them do the last leg of the delivery. ) and it took all of 5 minutes to walk the 800 feet back down the hill to where the teardrop is parked, open the package, sort out the right addapter, and prove that the teardrop's panel is in fact the issue.

It, the teardrop's panel, produces the expected 26 volts when open circuited (not plugged into anything) but as soon as it is asked to produce the current that voltage should be driving it shits a brick and sits there even less useful than an actual brick - which could be used to prop a door open, keep papers from flying away, or smash a window - or even a head - if one was so inclined.

Not that I could do anything to fix it, but I did some experimenting and monitoring and decided the likely issue was a failed cell or connection between cells that could support a little current-flow (less than 0.2 amps) if it was cool enough (somewhere below 60) but heat it up or try to get more current out of it and something inside there opens up. Stop trying to get current out of it (open circuit), at any temperature, and it will produce 26 useless volts again.

Which, by anybodies definition is a dead solar panel. Well what the hell are you suposed to do with one of those?! (Contrary to oil company propaganda of a couple three decades ago, solar panels are not toxic. They are predominately made of highly recyclable materials such as aluminum, glass, copper, and a bit of silicon.)

 

But this is one expensive panel! Assuming one could even get their hands on it (notice the sold out notice).

Yes, it's still under product warranty but - even assuming the Canadian manufacturer has a few on the shelf somewhere that they aren't selling (because you don't fix solar panels. You scrap them and get a new one.), I still have to pay international shipping and customs fees, both ways, as well as a "testing" fee. And who knows how long all this would take and I have a trip coming up shortly!

Lightleaf is a great panel. 140 watts, built in kickstands and quick-release mounts for removing it from the teardrop and setting out in a sunny spot,

all on a tough carbon-fiber substrate formed to the same curve as the teardrop's hatch, with the whole thing weighing in at about 5 pounds, but for $109 dollars, less than the fee's neccessary to warranty-replace the Lightleaf,

I could get one of these Renology 100 watt flexible panels (I've already got 4 of these on top of the cargo trailer) and have it in my hands in two days! 

True, 100 watts isn't the original 140, but I don't use all that much power anyway and if neccessary I can just plug in the portable panel for an extra boost.

The Renology has 6 of these handy grommets that I used to mount the panel, this time on the fixed roof just forward of the vent-fan which gives it better orientation for ray-gathering than the angled rear hatch. (Many buyers of Timberleaf - well, all, teardrops have roof-racks so this area is not always available for panel mounting)

After pre-drilling the surprisingly thick aluminum skin I cut a small tab of butyl sealant,

and tucked it over the hole

before driving each of the 6 stainless steel screws.

Being flexible the panel formed to the slight curve of the roof with no problem.

Using some half-inch wire loom, a few clamps, some tie-wraps, a couple of splices, and an SAE plug (to mate with the SAE socket already mounted on the teardrop - though you have to be carefull of the polarity when splicing these in because there's no fixed standard), all stuff I had laying around, I finished up the installation of my new - working - panel in about two hours.

But - in the photo above you can see 3 of the 6 mounting standoffs on the rear hatch for the original Lightleaf panel.

 

And frankly, useful and practical as they are, without a panel to hold they're kinda uggggly.

Each one of these is held down with two screws, leaving me with 12 holes in the hatch.

There's probably more eloquent ways of dealing with this, but using what I had on hand, the rubber-backed washers from some steel-roofing fasteners and some black-coated stainless steel pan-head screws,

I sealed up

the leftover holes.

It's going to take a little getting used to seeing the hatch so naked,

but in terms of solar activity, we are back in business!

Now I just hope I didn't break something else while I was at it - - -

Well - Fiddlesticks!

 This is what you do

when you dump a box of 115 (actually 113, I already used two) assorted 8/32 machine screws all over the floor.

Some of these suckers differ in length from others by only 1/8 of an inch. My brother can spot the difference by eye, but not me.

I've got to line them up next to each other one by one to sort them into groups

and get them back into the damn box!

Now, where was I before being so rudely interrupted?

Time to Change the Display

 

This display has been up in the corner of our living space since just before Christmas and I figured it was about due to be changed out.

But first, a little cerebral side trip.

I've always been drawn to creating small slices of fantasy worlds.

I'm not sure how old I was but I was pretty young when I first crafted one of these private worlds with words when I wrote, with my limited vocabulary at the time, about a family that moved onto a small sailing ship to travel the oceans together.

And as far back as I can remember I was building models and diorams, little miniture, ordered, controllable, worlds. (I'm  from a generation that was raised part feral. After an admonition to "don't sniff the plastic cement", we were then left to our own devices unsupervised in the downstairs rec-room with limited ventilation. What a fantastic way to grow up! Discovering the posibilities and limits of the world unfetered by overly restrictive restraints!)

I'm no psychiatrist, but I speculate that the attraction to crafting these things is being able to immerse myself in a world of my own creation and control to the exclusion of real-world pressures. Creating backstories for groups of miniture people without the angst of actual social interaction. Creating places where I can sit quietly on a mythical porch, free from the drone of lawnmowers (I grew up in the midwest where people are obsessed with lawns and lawnmower-drone is constant from sunup to sundown from early spring to late fall), free from medical appointments, car repairs, insurance brokers. A place where my mind can settle, can reset.

And as a septuagenarian I'm still alright with playing with models. Fantasy worlds rock!

So, (back to our originally scheduled program) time to move the old display to a protective storage container out in the dusty barn.

But before I do that,

I need to gussy up a couple of rather plain looking wooden 3D models

with some paint,

people,

and lights.

Except that didn't quite feel like enough for the display soooo - - -

I grabbed some foam-board, gathered together some scenery materials, more people, three miniture lamp-posts, some glue, paint, a few random pebbles from the driveway,

along with some trees, and more lights for the trees,

to create a little park to stroll through.

And since I was on a roll, and they were there in my box of crap, I slapped some little whicker balls, a string of lights, and india ink of various colors, onto the bench just to add a little more clutter and sparkle.

All of which

went together

to create

the new display.

Hummm, what world should I create next?

Abused By Teardrop Wiring!

 

My Timberleaf Pica teardrop came with three different battery charging posibilities.

(1) Solar, which is my #1 choice.

A panel coupled with a decent solar charger is a gentle, mostly hands off, and fully self-suporting option that 95% of the time keeps up with my needs with virtually no active input from me. (I might pay passing attention to sun-exposure when choosing a campsite but that's not my first priority especially since I can remove the panel and set it out in a sunnier spot.)

(2) A shore-power charger, commonly called a converter, and, as is mine, often built into the power-distribution center.

This option requires being hooked up to shore-power - obviously - so it's not a self-supporting system. And because of our irrational obsession with size it's actualy pretty harsh on the battery. Seriously! What is the point of having a 40 Amp charger hooked up to an 80 Ah battery?

It's not like I'm pulling in to an EV charging station and am itching to get back on the road again by the time I pee and grab a snack!

If I hook my teardrop up to shore-power I'm going to be there for at least 8 hours. A nice, small, lighter, less expensive, 15 Amp charger is more than enough to take care of my needs, but you can't buy a power distribution center/converter in this practical and functional size.

Which makes no sense because all batteries, even Li's, appreciate and thrive on gentle foreplay and just like any of us, being repeatedly slammed with a hard pounding wears them out and shortens thier life.

Fortunately my Timberleaf was wired with a dedicated breaker for the converter. I leave this turned off, only occasionally flipping it on for a few minutes to confirm that the converter is still working.

If I want to use shore-power charging, say if the battery is down to 20-30% and I'll be parked deep in the woods for a few more days, I'll flip the breaker on then keep an eye on the battery monitor and shut the charger back off at about 80% charge to minimize battery abuse.

(3) DC to DC charger.

This device takes the raw output from the vehicle's alternator - which might be as high as 16V -

coming into the trailer on pin 6 of the 7-way connector, and tames it down to the proper algorithm for charging Li batteries without damaging them. Handy for putting a charge into the house battery when the vehicle is running.

I had one of these on The Van but rarely used it, so when I discovered that the DC to DC charger on the teardrop wasn't working it wasn't that much of an operational issue because I was getting along without it just fine. But it was a brain issue! One of those things that gives a person, at least one like me, itchy-brain. So I decided to figure out what was going on, even though that meant standing on my head and contorting in ways no human, let alone an old-man human, was designed for. After all, even if I don't use it, that DC to DC charger is supposed to be working!

But! While wiring diagrams for the trailer running-gear, lights, brakes, etc., are easy to come by, for some damn reason it’s rare to find an RV manufacturer that makes wiring diagrams available for the house-systems of thier products. (This is why I should stick to building things myself! I know where every wire in the cargo trailer and both our barns goes because I put them there - and still have the wiring diagrams to fall back on when I start losing my mind! I know - I know. There's some that claim I've already lost it, but they don't understand that some things were never in there in the first place so they weren't mine to lose - - -)

It's not like they don't have them. The diagrams are there for workers building the units. It's just that they apparently don't give a damn about the poor smuck that buys their shit!

Admittedly, most of us can't decipher such a diagram, but what about the repair person you call in? They could certainly use it!

When you buy a washing machine it comes with a wiring diagram - or at least one you can download from the manufacture's site. It's not neccessarily for you, but for the repair person you will have to rely on one day.

But the mobile RV repair guy, which in my case is me, is shit-outa-luck!

So here we go!

Once I verified that the truck is delivering the charge voltage to the 7-way I knew the issue was within the trailer. More specificly, probably back there behind the fire extinguisher where all the electrical/electronic stuff is hidden.

So now it's time to start taking things apart and try to create my own wiring diagram so I can figure out how it's supposed to work and from there what the hell is wrong!

The cloth is covering the positive terminal of the battery to prevent mishaps. Though I have the disconnect switched off, killing power to pretty much everything, that terminal is still hot and chassis-grounds are all over the place inside this small space. Inadvertently connect the two with a dropped tool and - well, it wouldn't be good!

Speaking of dropped shit, a trick I use when working in small, crowded places like this is to put a small magnet on my driver bit, sockets, or wrench so they hang onto ferrous screws, nuts, and bolts rather than letting them fall into some inaccessible space.

Using eyeballs and my meter I chased the incoming charging voltage from the 7-way, down the length of the trailer, to this auto-resetting circuit-breaker where the incoming black, or hot, wire changes to two seperate red wires that spiral off, along with the accompanying white ground wire, into the spaghetti-maze of like-colored wires stuffed into this small space.

Another quick meter-check shows the breaker is passing the charge voltage on through.

Crap! That means I have to start chasing individual wires snuggly bundled together with a lot of other wires, through tight spaces to figure out where they go and what's gone wrong! (If only there was something like - oh I don't know - a friggin WIRING DIAGRAM!)

After a lot of contortion, cutting of cable ties, unscrewing of cable clamps, scraping of hands, and a few scathing words, sometimes muttered, sometimes enunciated very loudly, I still wasn't any the wiser (it didn't help that one or two of the wires changed colors at butt-splices buried inside cable-bundles!), so I went at it from the other end to see if things would be any easier to track down. (Spoiler alert- no!)

I knew that in the panel just above the electronics bay I was rooting around in was a switch to enable/disable the DC to DC charger. (And yes, long before embarking on this folly I tried the switch in both positions just in case it had been installed upside down!) So I figured I'd start chasing from that end instead.

Well that wasn't any easier!

Oh, it was easy enough to figure out that the black wire plugged into the back of the switch was ground and the green hot, so that orange wire must be the one turning the DC to DC charger on and off. Chase it down and it will lead me to whatever is actually doing the controlling.

OK, yeah. That didn't work out quite so well.

You see - that orange wire disapeared, along with a bunch of other wires, none of them orange, into a wire loom (think plastic conduit) that loops through the living compartment and into the back of the electronics compartment - only there's no orange wire coming out the other end!

I had to stand on my head in the living compartment and tear open the wire-loom to discover that, buried deep inside that loom the orange wire was butt-spliced to a - oh crap! - red wire. Do you know how many red wires there are coming out the other end of this loom?! Five! I counted!

Eventually I managed to track that orange-then-red wire to this relay buried about as deep as you could get in the back of the electronics compartment, just above the battery and squeezed between the power-distribution center and the shore-power inlet, as far away from the actual DC to DC charger as you can get in here.

While I was nursing an aching head and trying to figure out how I was going to get that relay out so I could test it without disassembling the whole damn compartment, I also got to wondering

why the hot wire for the switch in the panel above was being fed through the battery monitor instead of directly to the switch.

So, to postpone trying to extract that relay, I decided to try and figure out the whole battery monitor side-trip thing.

I've been using this model of battery monitor - this is my third - for many years, but this is the first time I've seen these terminals on the back being used.

So I did some poking around in the blue-tooth interface for the monitor and buried in the 'settings' I found another tab for 'relay'

And found that this relay is for controlling an inverter (which I've never had and still don't), making sure the inverter is shut down if the battery charge-level gets below a user-defined threshold.

But more importantly, notice that the relay is disabled!

As soon as I enabled that relay through the interface and turned the orange-wire switch on, the friggin DC to DC charger started working!

Why in the hell someone decided to wire a switch to a relay through another relay, I have no idea. And one day I'll get my tools back out and bypass that monitor-relay altogether since it is unneccessary and completely redundant as well as introducing complications and potential failure points!

Now- maybe I should start drawing my own wiring diagram for next time? - Nah, maybe later -