Two More Days … Was it too Much to Ask?

Saturday, 10 August 2014
Gulf Waters RV Resort  — Port Aransas, Texas
Temps: Hi 89F (32C) / LO 82F (28C)

Two days — actually, a day and a half — and Mui would have been home to deal with this afternoon’s electrical emer-
gency.  But no, the transfer switch had to short out today, leaving me powerless — in the ways that matter on a Texas summer day … NO A/C.

Before I tell the story of my emer-
gency … let me assure you that all is well now.  The A/C is on and has already cooled the coach down to a comfy temp.

The Automatic Transfer Switch is the open box with all the wires and other geegaws.      

It all started with a power flicker.  It didn’t last long, and the control panel immediately showed the system in inverting mode.  I had a general idea of what to do, but got on the phone with Mui to verify the steps with him first.  Luckily, he was at dinner with his mother, and I was able to reach him … a few more hours and he would have been asleep.

After confirming with the GWRVR office that the power wasn’t off throughout the resort, I set to work.  I shut off the 50A breaker and started the generator to get the A/Cs going.  The system showed inverting.  I waited.  The status did not change.  In the meantime, I asked the campground handyman to change out the 50A breaker.  When that was done, I turned off the generator and plugged into shorepower again.  No go; still not budging from inverting.  OK, let’s try the 30A breaker.  Still no go.  I shut the inverter off, and powered it up again … nope, no change.  I even checked the fuses; no problem there.  I suspected the problem might be with the automatic transfer switch, but since I wouldn’t be able to do anything to resolve it if that was indeed the problem, I didn’t open the box … some things are better left to the professionals.

My big issue was the A/Cs of course.  Can’t live without them in the sweltering August heat here in Texas … not even at the beach.  Both units were clicking on, but that was it … no air.  I called a fellow-Phaetonite to see if he had any thoughts.  He verified the steps I had taken, and came to the same conclusion I had — time to call an electrician … and on a Sunday to boot!

You can clearly see the short in the transfer box in this close-up.

I gathered my laptop and cellphone, and sought refuge at the GWRVR office where I could at least work in air-conditioned comfort.  The first call went to voice mail; I left a message.  The second company didn’t answer at all.  The third one — Southern Style RV Service — answered.  The tech was booked solid, but the lady on the phone asked me to explain the problem and what I had done, and promised to call the tech — who, it turns out, is her husband.  She called back a few minutes later … “Dale considers having no A/C an emergency, but he can’t be there until 4:00p,” she said.  No problem, I can hangout for another two hours at the office.  In the meantime, I started searching for a hotel — plan B in the event I couldn’t remain in the rig overnight.

Dale showed up shortly before 4:00p.  He listened to my description of the issue and the steps I had taken to rectify it; he looked at the inverter; and then — just as I expected — he checked out the transfer switch box.  Yup … there it was — the short that was the cause of my problems.  Since friends had experienced a similar problem earlier this year, I was hopeful that Dale would be able to do a by-pass to get power into the rig to run the A/Cs.  And that’s exactly what he did.  Half an hour later, I was signing my name on the dotted line for today’s work — payment to be made after Dale completes the installation of the new automatic transfer switch I’ll be ordering from Tiffin first thing tomorrow morning.  Expedited shipping should have the switch here in a couple of days, and all should be back to normal soon after that.

The cables Dale disconnected to by-pass the transfer switch are capped
and waiting to be reconnected when the new automatic transfer switch arrives.

Phew!  Could have been worse, I suppose.  But I still would have preferred not having to deal with this little emergency today.  I can’t say enough good things about Southern Style RV Service.  Turns out, Dale and his son — if Dale’s the surgeon, his son is the surgical nurse — were working on some rigs somewhere south of San Antonio when they got my call.  He could have just said he couldn’t make it down to work on the Phaeton.  But no; he drove all the way back to Port Aransas to help me out.  I appreciate it — especially since he’s going to have to return to San Antonio to finish the job up there.

Considering this is my first time alone in the rig, I remained surprisingly calm in the face of today’s little emergency.  Yes, I did utter a few choice words at first, but then I buckled down to getting the problem resolved.  I think I even managed to impress Dale with my succinct summary of the problem and what I’d done to diagnose the issue.  Too bad this blog post isn’t just as concise ;-)

Today’s experience was yet another reason to be glad I am in the familiar surroundings of GWRVR.  Peter, the handyman, had checked on me just yesterday to make sure all was well in Mui’s absence, and he stopped by several times today to make sure things were progressing smoothly towards resolving the electrical issue.

And, knowing that our Texan friends, the Zs, were just a phone call away helped my peace of mind immensely.  I knew they weren’t above hopping in the car and coming down to GWRVR had I asked them to do so.  It’s nice to have people around who sincerely care.

As for Mui — he proved himself to be his usual calm self when I called about the emergency and helped me walk through my diagnostic steps.  Many thanks; but, “get your butt home, Mr Mui” before I have to deal with another emergency — like a full black tank ;-)

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On another note … other than today’s emergency, life alone in the rig hasn’t been bad at all.  Until Friday, I was able to maintain my morning and evening walks, but the humidity has been a bit too much for me to venture out for exercise these past couple of days.  I do get to sit in the breezy shade when I take a break from researching and planning for our New Zealand trip — made good headway with a bare-bones plan for South Island … have plenty to discuss with Mui when he returns.

The resident dragonfly of Site 408 entertains me when I sit outside in the breezy shade.

As for Mui … his brother-in-law was laid to rest on Monday.  Since then, he’s done a couple of handyman type projects for his sister while she is busy accepting condolences from the large circle of friends and associates who have been popping in daily.  He begins his return trek to the US with a flight from Ankara around 1:00a CDT tomorrow morning.  If all goes well, he’ll be home around 10:00p — fingers crossed.

Plant Tour: Where Tiffin Motorhomes Are Born

Monday, 18 February (Part II)
Camp Tiffin — Red Bay, Alabama

I started writing about our day and the tour in the previous post … if you haven’t read it, it’s worth taking a peek to check out the photos of a ‘76 Allegro, one of the early motorhomes built at the plant.

Now for the plant tour.  We joined four other people to see how a motorhome is born at Tiffin’s main assembly plant.  We started out in the cabinetry area, which is located in what used to be the cotton warehouse for the gin operated by the Tiffins.  As Harold put it, “they didn’t tear down the buildings, they just re-purposed them.”

I would like to have given you a step-by-step tour of the process, but that’s not how the two-hour tour went.  That was a tiny bit disappointing.  Nonetheless, it was interesting to see the work that goes into building a house on wheels.  So my photos will pretty much be in the order in which we walked through the huge facility.

Assembled coaches lined up and ready to go to the paint plant in Belmont, Mississippi.     

On the positive side, we were right there with the workers, not kept at a distance.  There were Phaetons and Allegro Busses on the production lines today.  And we saw one Zephyr, too.  Breezes were being manufactured on a separate line.  Each coach is assigned a number, and all the bits and pieces for that coach carry that same identifying number, including all the cabling that goes into the coach.  This ensures the installation of the right parts in a motorhome — especially important when specific options are exercised, thus changing the standard build.

From what Harold told us, it takes three weeks to get a coach ready for shipment — 5 days at the main assembly plant, 5 days at the paint plant, and 5 days in final finishing.  (I am not positive of the last five days, so if someone knows otherwise, let me know.)  That time frame changes to 3½-days x 3 for the Breeze.  If you order a Tiffin, you will have your coach in two months from when you place the order.  Another tidbit — the production rate has been brought up from about 3/day (during the recent economic downturn) to 12/day.  That’s a lot of coaches going out the door!

(You can click any of the photos to see bigger versions in the online gallery.  There are some additional photos in the gallery that I did not post here.)

Some of the 1,500 Tiffin employees are skilled carpenters responsible for building the cabinetry
used in the motorhomes.  On the left is the “Galley Cell” where the kitchen units are built.
On the right is where they prepare wood panels by gluing together strips of hardwood.

The “overhead cell” (left) builds the cabinets that are attached to the ceiling.
Pre-routed trim pieces come to this shop to be cut out and prepared for staining.

In addition to using Ford, Freightliner, and Spartanburg chassis, Tiffin manufactures the
PowerGlide chassis.  Only a few of these chassis are built because of the demand of production.

Prepping a Cummins engine for installation.

A closer look at a Cummins engine installed in a chassis.

All tricked out, these chassis are ready to placed into the manufacturing line.

Dropped in place, the plywood flooring is secured to the frame.

The foam insulation for the roof is bonded to luan paneling and grooves and niches
for wiring and aluminum frame pieces are cut out using a computer-operated router.

The top photo shows the luan paneling with the foam underneath it.
Bottom left is a Phaeton 40QTH roof with the wiring and aluminum frame in place.
Bottom Right is a roof with the skin placed over the insulation; the dome satellite,
AC units, antenna, and fans are already installed.

The tile flooring is in place; the lavatory is next to go in.
interesting to see that most of the interior elements are mounted
before the shell of the motorhome is put in place.

The shell is in place; lots more work to do!

One of the bedroom slides is ready to be installed, and we get to see it being swung into place.

The face cap … outside and inside.

One of the things not manufactured by Tiffin is the windshield.
They are made in Turkey, which has a big bus manufacturing industry
and the technology to curve the edges of these big windshields.

This department prepares the wiring that goes into the motorhomes.
The machine to the left of the woman cuts the wiring at pre-designated lengths.
She then loops them in bundles and places them on carts (one cart per coach).
The plastic jackets on the wiring are stamped with the ID of the coach they are
intended for, as well as the purpose for which they are to be used.

The coils of cables on the rack are laid out on a series of spindles with numbers on the
panel corresponding to  specific positions in the coach; the cables are then bundled together.

The protective diamond shield is placed on the front of the coach once it has been
painted.  Next, the air bubbles are squeegeed out to present a crystal clear finish.

I understand we could have stayed on after the tour to wander around at will.  We didn’t quite get that at the time, and thought Harold meant that we were welcome to go into the finished coaches that were at the various quality control stations, or those parked on what they deem the “yellow brick road” outside.  In any event, Mui was anxious to pick up our Phaeton from Bruce Deaton’s paint shop.  And I was overwhelmed by the “beehive activity” and noise around me.  So, we’ll do self-guided tour the next time … as I am sure there will be a next time.

The Paint Plant: Where Tiffin Motorhomes Go to Get Their Beauty Treatment

Friday, 15 February (Part II)
Camp Tiffin — Red Bay, Alabama

First, current information about our whereabouts …

We left Red Bay on February 21 and are now in Montgomery, Alabama.  We’re back at the Maxwell AFB FamCamp, where we plan to stay for the next two weeks.  I’m hoping that a few uneventful days here will allow me to catch up on the rest of our Red Bay posts … the words are written, I just have to process photos.

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After a morning spent getting the M3 service done on the Phaeton, we decided to do something other than sit around Camp Tiffin.  After all, we were done with the service center and it wasn’t like we were going to get a call to take the coach into one of the bays.

Picking up a hand-drawn map from the camp store, we headed to Belmont, Mississippi — 6-miles (9.5 km) from the campground.  Our plan called for lunch first, and then a tour of the Tiffin paint plant.

We’d been told that Belmont Café was one of the best places to get a bite to eat in the area — we were not misled.  Good homestyle southern cooking.

(Belmont Café is on Main Street — #1 on the map above;
the Tiffin plant is on the corner of Dickinson Road and Hwy 25 — #3 on the map.)

antiques and quirky items decorate the inside of the Belmont Café.

The portions at Belmont Café are quite big; leftovers for dinner.

After lunch, we drove over to the Tiffin Paint Plant for a self-guided tour.  You read that right — visitors are welcome to wander around the plant at will.  We didn’t have to sign in or provide any information to prove that we were Tiffin owners, so I imagine anyone can go in for a look-see.  All you have to do is check in at the guard station to receive visitor passes, and protective eye goggles and ear plugs.

And so off we went to see how the coaches get their beauty treatment.

Google satellite shot of the Tiffin Paint Plant; the vehicles (top left) are coaches that have been painted.

The guardhouse where Mui received our visitor passes has the look of a gas station of yore.

Armed with passes, we set out to explore the paint plant where Tiffin coaches get a
custom paint job; pictured here is just a small portion of the plant.

Tiffin celebrated 40 years and 65,000 coaches in 2012.

From the office just inside the door, we picked up a laminated chart showing the process flow.  As we made our way from the beginning to the end of the line, we were greeted warmly by Tiffin employees working on various stages of the paint process.  Not only did everyone have a smile for us, they were also willing to answer any questions we posed.  Their pride in the work they do was evident not only in their responses, but also in the repeated encouragement to go where we wanted.  “Nothing to hide,” seemed to be the motto here.  The exception to this open invitation was the paint bays and what I term the “baking” bays.  Even then, the paint bays were viewable through windows.

The flow chart makes it easy to understand the sequence of the work done.

Tiffin does not use decals for the swirls and stripes that decorate the exterior of the coaches.  Everything is done by hand, using patterns and masking tape galore.  I have heard $10,000 to $12,000 per coach being bandied about as the cost of the custom paint job on the motorhomes.  Having seen the work being done, I now understand why the five-day process to get a coach from no-paint to super-clearcoat is so expensive.

Already primed, the windows, gaskets, and wheels are masked off before the coach
is sent in to the paint bay to receive its base color; the coach on the right is
in the paint bay (sorry about the smears from shooting through the window).

One of the things that struck us was the general age of the workforce.  Can you say young?  This is NOT because Tiffin is discriminating against those who are older.  Rather, youth brings with it agility, not to mention better eyesight — both of which are essential to the detail-intensive work that is being performed in this part of the plant.  I sure wouldn’t want to be sprinting from one end of the roof to the other, laying protective plastic sheeting … or spending hours on my knees, applying miles of masking tape … or going up and down ladders, taping protective paper to windows or marking off swirls and stripes for hours on end.

This coach is being prepared for striping.  Can you believe these swirls are all masked off by hand?  And then the tape has to be removed once the paint job is completed.

Being striped in the paint bay.

This coach has been striped, inspected for defects, and is being prepared for stripe repair.

As one young woman removes the old mask, another one starts putting on the tape for the repair.

We arrive at one of the clearcoat bays just as this coach gets pulled in for
the first of two clearcoat layers it is going to receive, and…

… get to watch the prep work before the door is closed.
as the two men get set up in the rolling scaffolding on either side of the coach,
The young man on the left mixes up the clearcoat in disposable buckets.

The coaches are Baked (OK … the paint is cured) in bays like this one at temps averaging 165F (74C).
The instructions say that high temp is for “baking” and low temp is to keep the burner Going while
a coach is being loaded/unloaded.  Oh and check out the high-tech timer on top of the panel.

Having received its super-clearcoat, the coach on the right is ready to leave the paint shop …

… and go to “final finish” to receive accessories, such as awnings, headlights, brake lights, etc.
That done, the coach will be ready to be shipped to a dealer near you!

And here’s what I found flabbergasting — the production rate here is 12 coaches per day!  That’s up from the 3 units per day that were being produced at the end of 2008, which is when our 2009 coach was built.

Technically, we should have visited the paint plant after touring the factory where the motorhomes are built.  The problem is that the factory tour is offered only once a day, and you can tour the paint plant anytime you want.  So, keep your eye out for another tour coming soon.

(P.S. I understand you can do a self-guided tour of the factory as well, but we want to have words associated with what we will be seeing, so we’ve opted to wait until Monday morning.)