

As the CO meter I bought on eBay didn’t register anything whatsoever, I decided I’d hack the sensor itself apart to make sure it wasn’t just an empty steel can. It turns out that it’s not just an empty can, but there are some reasons why the thing doesn’t work 😉
The cell was crimped together under the yellow shrinkwrap, but that’s nothing my aviation snips couldn’t take care of. The photo above shows the components from inside.
The endcap is just a steel pressing, nothing special here.
Also pretty standard is the inlet filter over the tiny hole in the next plate, even though it’s a lot more porous that I’ve seen before in other sensors.
Next up is the working electrode assembly, this also forms the seal on the can when it’s crimped, along with insulating it from the counter electrode & external can. The small disc third from left is supposed to be the electrode, which in these cells should be loaded with Platinum. Considering where else they’ve skimped in this unit, I’ll be very surprised if it’s anything except graphite.
Next up is the counter electrode, which is identical to the first, working electrode. Again I doubt there’s any precious metals in here.
Another steel backplate finishes off the cell itself, and keeps most of the liquid out, just making sure everything stays moist.
Finally, the rear of the cell holds the reservoir of liquid electrolyte. This is supposed to be Sulphuric Acid, but yet again they’ve skimped on the cost, and it’s just WATER.
It’s now not surprising that it wouldn’t give me any readings, this cell never would have worked correctly, if at all, without the correct electrolyte. These cheap alarms are dangerous, as people will trust it to alert them to high CO levels, when in fact it’s nothing more than a fancy flashing LED with an LCD display.
Ironically enough, when I connected a real electrochemical CO detector cell to the circuit from the alarm, it started working, detecting CO given off from a burning Butane lighter. It wouldn’t be calibrated, but it proves everything electronic is there & operational. It’s not surprising that the corner cut in this instance is on the sensor cell, as they contain precious metals & require careful manufacturing it’s where the cost lies with these alarms.
I was looking around eBay for decent deals on a branded CO alarm, and came across these for next to no money, so I thought I’d grab one just to see how bad they could be.
Popping the casing open shows the very small circuit board inside, with the CO sensor cell on the right. I can’t find any manufacturer information on this cell, nor can I find a photo of anything similar on the intertubes, so no specifications there. The other parts are pretty standard, a Piezo sounder & it’s associated step-up transformer to increase the loudness.
The sensor cell has the usual opening in the end to allow entry of gas.
The other side of the board doesn’t reveal much, just an LCD, a couple of LEDs, a pair of transistors, Op-Amp for the sensor & a main microcontroller.
The microcontroller isn’t marked unfortunately. It’s not had the number scrubbed off, it’s just never been laser marked with a part number. Above the micro is a SOT-23 LM321 low-power Op-Amp which does the signal conditioning for the CO sensor.
I tried to make this alarm trigger with the exhaust from the Eberspacher heater, which on a well-made branded alarm registered a reading of 154ppm after a few minutes. In the case of this alarm though, I couldn’t make it trigger at all, no matter how long I exposed it to hydrocarbon exhaust gases. I won’t be trusting this one then!
Nothing quite like a piece of safety equipment that doesn’t work correctly from new!
I did a little more digging into the PSU circuitry of the small coin counting machine, and it’s even more strange than I thought!
The part I originally thought was a transformer on the PSU board is in fact a DC-DC converter module!
Here’s the device after desoldering it from the PCB. It turns out that instead of a transformer, it’s an inductor.
Underneath is the controller electronics, with an COB controller & the switching transistors are under a protective covering of silicone.
Driving this whole lot of PSU randomness is the mains transformer, with a secondary voltage of 35v.
The only reason I can think of that the manufacturer went to this much expense with the power supply is stability – a coin counting machine that miscounts due to power supply surges, sags & spikes wouldn’t be very much use. It’s not likely I’ll see anything similar again, unless I manage to get hold of something like medical grade equipment.
Here’s some teardown photos of an old De La Rue coin counter, used in businesses for rapid counting of change into large bags.
An overview of the whole mechanical system of the counter. Coins are loaded into the drum at the rear of the machine, which sorts them into a row for the rubber belt to pick up & run through the counter. The coin type to be sorted is selected by turning the control knobs on the right.
The control knobs adjust the width & height of the coin channel so only the correct sized coins will be counted.
The counter is driven by a basic AC induction motor, the motor power relay & reversing relay is on this PCB, along with the 5v switching supply for the main CPU board.
The SMPS on this board looks like a standard mains unit, but it’s got one big difference. Under the frame next to the main motor is a relatively large transformer, with a 35v output. This AC is fed into the SMPS section of the PSU board to be converted to 5v DC for the logic.
I’m not sure why it’s been done this way, and have never seen anything similar before.
The edge of the coin channel can be seen here, the black star wheel rotates when a coin passes & registers the count.
Here’s the main controller PCB, IC date codes put the unit to about 1995. The main CPU is a NEC UPD8049HC 8-bit micro, no flash or EEPROM on this old CPU, simply mask ROM. Coin readout is done on the 4 7-segment LED displays. Not much to this counter, it’s both electronically & mechanically simple.
Coin counting is done by the star wheel mentioned above, which drives the interrupter disc on this photo-gate. The solenoid locks the counter shaft to prevent over or under counting when a set number of coins is to be counted.
Under the frame, here on the left is the small induction motor, only 6W, 4-pole. The run cap for the motor is in the centre, and the 35v transformer is just visible behind it.
Main drive to the coin sorting mech is through rubber belts, and bevel gears drive the coin drum.
Here’s an old HDSPA 3G USB modem stick that I got with a mobile phone contact many years ago. As it’s now very old tech, and I have a faster modem, not to mention that I’m no longer with Orange (Robbing <expletive>), here’s a teardown of the device!
The top shell is just clipped into place, while a pair of very small screws hold down the orange piece at left to hold the PCB stack in the casing. Not much to see here, but it’s clear that there’s a lot crammed into a very small space.
Here’s the PCB stack removed from the outer casing. The main antenna is on the right, attached with another small screw. Every IC on the boards is covered with an RF can. No problems there, pliers to the rescue!
Here’s the top PCB, all the shields have been removed. On the left is a Qualcomm PM6658 Power Management IC with integrated USB transceiver. This is surrounded by many of the power management circuits.
The integrated SD Card slot is on the right side. with what looks to be a local switching regulator for supply voltage. This might also provide the SIM card with it’s power supply.
The other side of the top board reveals more power management, with another switching regulator, and a truly massive capacitor at the top edge. I’m guessing this is a solid Tantalum.
The other PCB holds the main chipset & RF circuits. On the left here is a Samsung MCP K5D1G13ACH IC. This one is a multiple chip package, having 1Gbit of NAND Flash & 512Mbit of mobile SDRAM.
To it’s right is a Qualcomm RTR6285 RF Transceiver. This IC supports multiband GSM/EDGE/UMTS frequencies & also has a GPS receive amplifier included.
At bottom right is an Avago ACPM7371 Wide-Band 4×4 CDMA Power Amplifier. The external antenna connector is top right.
On the other side of the main PCB is a Qualcomm MSM6246 Baseband processor. Not sure about this one as I can’t find anything resembling a datasheet. Another micro-coax connector is in the centre, probably for factory test purposes, as it’s not accessible from the outside.
Just above the coax connector is a Qorvo RF1450 SP4T (single-pole 4-throw) High Power (34.5dBm) GSM RF Switch.
Upper right is an Avago FEM-7780 UMTS2100 4×7 Front End Module.
Under that is an RFMD RF3163 Quad-Band RF Power Amplifier Module.
One of the central parts to the Eberspacher-type evaporative burner is the wire mesh screen that surrounds the glowplug, where the incoming fuel is heated to vapour before it’s blown into the combustion chamber & burned.
These screens, like glowplugs in the older heaters, are consumable parts and either get clogged with soot/tar or just eventually burn away.
The problem is that these parts (for what they are at least) are bloody expensive, so I’ve been looking to come up with something that can serve as a decent replacement for much lower cost.
Here’s a slightly used screen from my D1LCC heater, as can be seen the lower edge is already burning away even after only a few hours use. This edge tends to burn as the screen projects into the combustion chamber by about 1/4″, so it’s exposed to higher temperatures there. The rest of the screen is covered by the alloy casting that holds the burner. The mesh itself is stainless steel, and looks like something between 120-150 mesh.
The mesh is wound 2-3 turns, and spot welded to hold everything together. I would imagine to give more surface area for fuel vaporization. An unfortunate side effect of this is that the screen is much more susceptible to clogging as the mesh size is effectively reduced.
This also makes them damn near impossible to clean, as the carbon deposits get stuck between the layers in the screen. Applying a blowtorch flame to the entire screen & heating it to orange heat (~1200°C) does burn most of the crap out of them. Running Paraffin/Kerosene as the fuel also makes for a much cleaner burn, extending life.
(Assuming of course that the screen can be removed without totally destroying it – in my experience after many hours of running they seize in place & require sharp implements, violence & much swearing to remove, in several pieces.)
I had some copper mesh spare from a previous project, around the correct mesh size, so I figured I’d cut a piece to the same size as the official mesh & give it a go in the heater.
Here’s my single-layer DIY screen after a couple of hours operation in the heater. Ignition time doesn’t seem to be impaired, there’s no smoke from the exhaust, and it appears that it’s staying cleaner than an OEM screen, since the mesh size is a little larger. I’ll have to monitor the situation & see how long these last, but if it’s anything close to the OEM screen life it’ll make maintenance much cheaper.
This is the opening that holds the glowplug & it’s screen. The fuel inlet can be seen on the left wall of the chamber, with a circular groove that feeds fuel onto the screen in operation.
And here’s the DIY screen in place, it’s obviously not as good a fit as the OEM version, but it’s sufficient to do the job!
Finally, here’s the glowplug itself. Possibly the beefiest plug I’ve ever seen, even in large diesel engines.
These units are used to broadcast local audio, such as from a public address system or local microphone. They accomplish this by producing a modulated magnetic field that a hearing aid is capable of picking up.
Not many controls on this bit of equipment. A bi-colour LED for status indications, a microphone, external audio input, charging input & a power switch.
Popping the cover off reveals a small lead-acid battery, 2.1Ah at 12v. This is used when the loop is unplugged.
Here’s the main PCB, which takes care of the audio & battery charging. The inductive loop itself is just visible as the tape-covered wire bundle around the edge of the casing.
Here’s the input section of the main PCB. The microphone input is handled by a SSM2166 front-end preamplifier from Analog Devices.
This audio is then fed into a TDA2003 10W Mono Power Amplifier IC, which directly drives the induction coil as if it were a speaker. Any suitable receiving coil & amplifier can then receive the signal & change it back into audio.
I have yet another receipt printer, this one appears to be brand new. It’s possibly the smallest thermal 80mm printer I have at the moment, and has both USB & Serial interfaces.
There’s not much to these printers at all. Removing a single screw allows the case halves to separate, showing the guts. The controller is based around a Texas Instruments TMS320VC5509AFixed-Point DSP. It’s associated Flash ROM & RAM are to the right.
Power supply is dealt with in the top right of the PCB, with the interface ports further left.
Here’s the thermal mechanism itself, with the large print head. The stepper motor to drive the paper through the printer is just peeking out at top right. The paper present sensor is just under the left hand side of the print head.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been using Trangia-type alcohol fuelled stoves when I go camping, even though these have served my needs well they’re very limited & tend to waste fuel. I did some looking around for Paraffin/Kerosene fuelled stoves instead, as I already have this fuel on site.
I found very good reviews on the Optimus Nova above, so I decided to go for this one.
This stove can run on many different fuel types, “white gas” (petrol without any vehicle additives) Diesel, Kerosene & Jet A.
Here’s the “hot end” of the device, the burner itself. This is made in two cast Brass sections, that are brazed together. The fuel jet can be just seen in the centre of the casting.
The fuel bottle is pressurised with a pump very similar to the ones used on Paraffin pressure lamps, so I’m used to this kind of setup. The fuel dip tube has a filter on the end to stop any munge gumming up the valves or the burner jet.
As with all liquid-fuelled vapour burners, it has to be preheated. There’s a fibreglass pad in the bottom of the burner for this, and can be soaked with any fuel of choice. The manual states to preheat with the fuel in the bottle, but as I’m using Paraffin, this would be very smoky indeed, so here it’s being preheated with a bit of Isopropanol.
The fuel bottle can be seen in the background as well, connected to the burner with a flexible hose. The main burner control valve is attached to the green handle bottom centre.
Once the preheating flame has burned down, the fuel valve can be opened, here’s the stove burning Paraffin on very low simmer. (An advantage over the older alcohol burners I’m used to – adjustable heat!)
Opening the control valve a couple of turns gives flamethrower mode. At full power, the burner is a little loud, but no louder than my usual Paraffin pressure lamps.
With a pan of water on the stove, the flame covers the entire base of the pan. Good for heat transfer. This stove was able to boil 1L of water from cold in 5 minutes. A little longer than the manual states, but that’s still much quicker than I’m used to!
The top of the burner opens for cleaning, here’s a look at the jet in the centre of the burner. The preheating pad can be seen below the brass casting.
A lot of the electronics I use & projects I construct use batteries, mainly of the lithium variety. As charging this chemistry can be a little explosive if not done correctly, I decided a proper charger was required. This charger is capable of handling packs up to 6 cells for Lithium, and up to 20v for lead-acids.
The usual DC input barrel jack on the left, with an external temp sensor for fast charging NiCd/NiMH chemistry batteries. The µUSB port registers under Linux as USB HID, probably so drivers aren’t required. Unfortunately the software is Windows only, but it doesn’t provide anything handy like charging graphs or stats. Just a way to alter settings & control charging from a PC. On other versions of this charger there’s a setting to change the temp sensor port into a TTL serial output, which would be much handier.
The other side of the charger has the main DC output jacks & the pack balancing connections.
Here’s the top cover removed from the charger, showing most of the internals. A standard HD44780 LCD provides the user interface, the CPU & it’s associated logic is hidden under there somewhere.
The PCB has nice heavy tracks to handle the 6A of current this charger is capable of.
The output side of the board. Here the resistive pack balancing network can be seen behind the vertical daughter board holding the connectors, along with the output current shunt between the DC output banana jacks & the last tactile button.
Unfortunately the LCD is soldered directly to the board, and my desoldering tool couldn’t quite get all the solder out, so time to get a bit violent. I’ve gently bent the header so I could see the brains of the charger. The main CPU is a Megwin MA84G564AD48, which is an Intel 8081 clone with USB support. Unfortunately I was unable to find a datasheet for this part, and the page on Megwin’s site is Chinese only.
I was hoping it was an ATMega328, as I have seen in other versions of this charger, as there are custom firmwares available to increase the feature set of the charger, but no dice on this one. I do think the µUSB port is unique to this version though, so avoiding models with that port probably would get a hackable version.
There’s some glue logic for controlling the resistor taps on the balancing network, and a few op-amps for voltage & current readings.
All the power diodes & switching FETs for the DC-DC converter are mounted on the bottom of the PCB, and clamped against the aluminium casing when the PCB is screwed down. Not the best way to ensure great contact, but Chinese tech, so m’eh.
It’s well known that there are two versions of the 701 type controller available for Eberspacher heaters, the version with the blue logo is the official un-restricted model, while the version with the white logo is a version built for BT that restricts the heater to 1 hour runtime & has no diagnostics built in.
As these devices are microcontroller driven, I assumed that the hardware would be the same, only the code running in the micro being the bit that Eberspacher changed. This option would certainly have been the lowest cost.
Here’s the PCB removed from the plastic housing. There are definitely some differences that I can tell. As the un-restricted version has an extra wire for the diagnostic serial interface, and this board has no unpopulated parts, the PCB is definitely a different version.
In the centre is a Microchip PIC16C622 microcontroller, the OTP version in this case for cost reductions. (I may try reading the binary from this chip in the future, chances are it’s code protected though).
Below the micro is an NXP PCF8577C 32-segment LCD controller, this has an I²C interface to the PIC.
The temperature control function on these heaters is done via applying a resistance to one of the control lines, between 1750Ω-2180Ω, ±80Ω. (Very odd values these, not to mention no standard components can create this range easily, bloody engineers >_<). This is accomplished in hardware with a BU2092F I²C shift register from Rohm, which is connected to a bank of resistors. The microcontroller will switch combinations of these into the circuit to get the range of resistances required.
The rest of the circuit is local power regulation & filtering.
There’s not much on the other side of the PCB, just the LCD itself & the contacts for the buttons.
The Eberspacher heaters can be controlled with a single switch, but it’s more convenient to have some temperature control & the option of a timer. Above is an ex-BT 701 series controller, with built in 7-day programmer. Being an ex-BT van version though, it’ll only switch the heater on for 1 hour at a time.
To get around this slight niggle, I fitted a bypass toggle switch.
For a bit of extra convenience, I got an RF remote controlled relay module from eBay (£5).
This allows me to switch things on remotely, so I can return to a nice toasty tent while camping.
There is an official RF remote for Eberspacher heaters, but I’ve no doubt they’re hideously expensive.
Here’s the receiver PCB, there’s an EEPROM & a microcontroller onboard for handling the codes the remotes send, but as the number has been scrubbed off the micro, no data there. This uses a standard RF receiver module.
Here’s the remote itself, this uses a 12v battery instead of a 3v lithium cell. A little of a pain since these batteries can be a bit pricey.
As this RF system operates on 315MHz, it’s technically illegal in the UK, but I was unable to find a 433MHz version with the features required. Nevermind ;).
Here’s the module installed in the controller casing. I have since run the antenna wire around the edge of the case to try & get the furthest range on receive. The relay contacts are just paralleled across the bypass switch, so when the relay energizes the heater fires up.
Luckily the thermostatic control portion of the 701 programmer is operational even when heating mode is not active.
I’m no fan of power inverters. In my experience they’re horrifically inefficient, have power appetites that make engine starter motors look like electric toothbrushes & reduce the life expectancy of lead-acid batteries to no more than a few days.
However I have decided to do a little analysis on a cheapo “600W” model that Maplin Electronics sells.
After a serious amount of metallic abuse, the bottom cover eventually came off. The sheet of steel used to close the bottom of the aluminium extrusion was wedged into place with what was probably a 10 ton hydraulic press.
As can be seen from the PCB, there’s no massive 50Hz power transformer, but a pair of high frequency switching transformers. Obviously this is to lighten the weight & the cost of the magnetics, but it does nothing for the quality of the AC output waveform.
The 12v DC from the battery comes in on very heavy 8-gauge cables, this device is fused at 75A!
Here’s the fusing arrangement on the DC input stage, just 3 standard blade-type automotive fuses. Interestingly, these are very difficult to get at without a large hammer & some swearing, so I imagine if the user manages to blow these Maplin just expect the device to be thrown out.
On the input side, the DC is switched into the pair of transformers to create a bipolar high voltage DC supply.
The large rectifier diodes on the outputs of the transformers feed into the 400v 100µF smoothing capacitors.
As mains AC is obviously a bipolar waveform, I’m guessing this is generating a ±150v DC supply.
After the high voltage is rectified & smoothed, it’s switched through 4 more MOSFETs on the other side of the PCB to create the main AC output.
The label states this is a modified-sine output, so I’d expect something on the scope that looks like this:
Modified-sine doesn’t look as bad as just a pure square output, but I suspect it’s a little hard on inductive loads & rectifiers.
However, after connecting the scope, here’s the actual waveform:
It’s horrific. It’s not even symmetrical. There isn’t even a true “neutral” either. The same waveform (in antiphase) is on the other mains socket terminal. This gives an RMS output voltage of 284v. Needless to say I didn’t try it under load, as I don’t possess anything I don’t mind destroying. (This is when incandescent lamps are *really* useful. Bloody EU ;)).
About the only thing that it’s accurate at reproducing is the 50Hz output, which it does pretty damn well.
As is usual these days, the whole system is controlled via a microcontroller.
I go camping on a regular basis here in the UK, and often even in summer it’s horribly cold at night in a field somewhere in the middle of Leicestershire. This doesn’t go too well with my severe aversion to being cold.
For the past several years I’ve used a Tilley lamp for some heat & light while at festivals & general camping, but it’s heat output is less than stellar when used in a 6-man tent.
An Eberspacher diesel heater was what was required for the job. Above is the unit as it’s built at the moment – I’ve used an old D1LCC 1.8kW heater that was recently decommissioned from nb Tanya Louise, as it’s getting a bit funny about what kind of fuel it’ll run on in it’s old age. It’ll work perfectly well on kerosene though – a fuel I already take with me camping for the Tilley.
It’s mounted on a base box, which is a repurposed steel electrical junction box that saw a previous life containing a 3-phase fan motor controller.
Here’s the info on the heater unit itself. Drawing 22W of power at 12v I’ll be getting 1.8kW of heat output – sounds good to me.
Here’s a view into the base box before the circulation fans were fitted, in early prototype stage. I used a small toroid as a clunk on the end of the rubber fuel line 😉
After a few bits from the Great eBay arrived, here’s the internals of the base unit at present. The fuel tank is a repurposed 2L fridge water container – made of tough HDPE so it’s fuel resistant.
The fuel pump is mounted on the left side next to the tank – having been wrapped in some foam to deaden the continual ticking noise it creates. The exhaust & it’s silencer are mounted at the rear, the silencer being retained by a surplus rubber shock mount. Luckily the exhaust systems on these heaters don’t get particularly hot, so the rubber doesn’t melt.
The exhaust outlet is routed through the frame, to be attached to an external hose. I don’t want combustion gases in the tent with me!
Standard Eberspacher silencers also aren’t gas-tight from the factory – they’re designed to be used in the open on the underframe of a vehicle, so I’ve covered all the seams in aluminium tape to make the system airtight.
To make sure that the support components don’t get overheated with the exhaust being in such close proximity, and to pull a little more heat out of the system, a pair of slow-running 80mm fans has been fitted to the end of the box. These blow enough air through to give a nice warm breeze from the vents on the other end of the base.
The tank I’ve used just so happened to be the perfect size to fit into the base box, and to tap the fuel off a bulkhead fitting was put into the top of the tank, with a dip tube on the other side. The fuel line itself is tiny – only 4mm.
If the specifications from Eberspacher are to be believed, 2L of fuel on board will allow the system to run for about 8 hours on full power, or 16 hours on minimum power.
Being inside the base, refuelling is a little awkward at the moment, the heater has to completely cool before the exhaust can be detached without receiving a burn, so I’ll be building in a fuel transfer system from an external jerry can later to automate the process – this will also help to avoid messy fuel spills.
More to come when the rest of the system is worked out!
73s for now!
I got one of these to test since I’ve been in need of some small DC pumps for fluid transfer use. At £2 I can definitely afford to experiment.
On the eBay listing, these pumps are rated at 3-12v DC, (I thought that was a bit wide of an operating range), I looked up the motor, an RS-360SH on Mabuchi’s website, they only have models in this range rated at 7.2v & 24v. Judging by the size of the windings on the armature & the fact that after a few minutes operation on 12v it gets rather hot, I’m going to say this is the 7.2v motor.
Removing the screws releases the end cover & the pair of gears inside. This operates like any other hydraulic gear motor, albeit with much wider tolerances. It has no capability to hold pressure when the power is removed, and can be blown through easily.
Flow & pressure under power are quite good for the pump’s size, even though it’s noisy as hell.
I’ve been a vaper now for many years, after giving up the evil weed that is tobacco. Here’s my latest acquisition in the vaping world, the JoyeTech eVIC 60W. This one is branded by Totally Wicked as the Forza VT60.
Powered by a single 18650 Li-Ion cell, this one is a Sony VTC4 series, 2100mAh.
Under the battery a pair of screws hold the electronics in the main cast alloy casing.
After removing the screws, the entire internal assembly comes out of the case, here’s the top of the PCB with the large OLED display in the centre.
On the right side of the board is the USB jack for charging & firmware updates. The adjustment buttons are also at this end.
On the left side of the board is the main output connector & the fire button. Unlike many eCigs I’ve torn down before, the wiring in this one is very beefy – it has to be to handle the high currents used with some atomizers – up to 10A.
Removing the board from the battery holder shows the main power circuitry & MCU. The aluminium heatsink is thermally bonded to the switching MOSFETs, a pair under each end. The switching inductor is under the gap in the centre of the heatsink.
A close up of the heatsink shows the very slim inductor under the heatsink.
The main MCU in this unit has a very strange part number, which I’ve been unable to find information on, but it’s probably 8081 based.
Inkeeping with everything else in my shack being low voltage operated, I had planned from the outset to convert the desoldering station to 12v operation. It turns out this has been the easiest tool to convert in my shack so far.
The factory SMPS is a fairly straightforward 18v 12A unit, with only a single small oddity: the desoldering gun’s heating element is controlled from inside the supply.
Next to the output rectifier on the heatsink is a large MOSFET, in this case a STP60NF06 from ST Micro. This is a fairly beefy FET at 60v & 60A capacity, RDS On of <0.016Ω.
This is driven via an opto-isolator from the main logic board. I’ve not yet looked at the waveform on the scope, but I suspect this is also being PWM’d to control temperature better when close to the set point.
Rather than fire up the soldering iron & build a new element controller circuit (Lazy Mode™), I opted to take a saw to the original power supply. I cut the DC output section of the PCB off the rest of the supply & attached this piece back to the frame of the base unit. I also added a small heatsink to the MOSFET to make sure it stays cool.
Since the fan & vacuum pump are both already 12v rated, those are connected directly to the DC input socket, that I’ve installed in place of the original IEC mains socket. The 18v for the heating element is generated by a 10A DC-DC converter, again from eBay.
Oddly, the iron itself is rated at 24v 80W, but the factory supply is only rated to 18v. I’m not sure why they’ve derated the system, but as the station already draws up to 10A from a 13.8v supply, increasing the voltage any further would start giving my DC supplies a problem, so it can stay at 18v for now.
For a long time I’ve needed a decent vacuum desoldering tool, as I do much stripping of old PCBs for random parts.
Solder wick works well for most things, but it’s expensive & can be fiddly. It also doesn’t keep very long as the copper braid oxidises & after that point it never seems to work particularly well, even when soaked in fresh flux.
As usual eBay to the rescue! I managed to pick this one up for £80.
Removing the lid reveals the internals. Front & centre is the vacuum pump, with the mains supply behind it. There’s also a very noisy cooling fan at the back. Not sure why since the unit never gets warm enough to actually warrant a fan.
On the other side is the PSU. This is an 18v 12A rated SMPS, with a bit of custom electronics for controlling the iron element. Mounted to the back case is a small black box, more to come on this bit.
Cracking the case of the PSU reveals a pretty bog-standard SMPS, with a surprising amount of mains filtering for a Chinese supply. The DC outputs are on the right.
From the rail markings, this is clearly designed to output some more voltage rails – possibly for other models of unit. In this case though, a single 18v rail is present. The iron’s element connects directly to the supply, controlled via an opto-isolated MOSFET.
As both the fan & the vacuum pump motor are 12v devices, some provision had to be made to reduce the 18v from the power supply to a more reasonable value. Inside the black plastic box are a pair of 1Ω 5W power resistors, connected in series. The output from this connects to the fan & vacuum pump. Because cheap, obviously.
Finally, here’s the controller PCB, the main MCU is an 8081 derivative, with a Holtek HT1621B LCD controller for the front panel temperature readout. Iron temperature is achieved by a thermocouple embedded in the heater, I imagine the potentiometer on the left side of the PCB is for calibration.
Here’s another retired piece of tech that we used to route media from the NAS to the main TV. It was retired since it’s inability to support XBMC/Kodi & having some crashing issues.
After attacking the case with the screwdriver (Torx in this case), the main board comes out. The CPU in this looks *very* familiar, being a PoP device. There are unpopulated places for an ethernet interface & USB port here.
After a little digging is turns out the CPU in this device is a BCM2835, with 256MB of RAM stacked on top. It’s a Raspberry Pi! Even the unpopulated part for Ethernet is the same SMSC LAN9512!
There’s 32MB of Flash for the software below the CPU.
On the far right of the board is a Broadcom BCM59002IML Mobile Power Management IC.
On the bottom of the PCB is the WiFi chipset, a Broadcom BCM4336, this most likely communicates with the CPU via SDIO. There’s also a section below for a Bluetooth chipset.