I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.
Much of the signage in the mill was hand-drawn.
Most of the gauges on the control panels were broken.
Much of the plant depended on steam, not only for heat but for mechanical power.
A little catwalk gives access to the most important gauges in the building. Behind them are huge vents and fans. I bet it got steamy in here.
Unit 4’s lower levels.
Around the corner from the old boiler room.
There are so many pipes i the factory–I wonder how many people knew where they all went, in the days these machines operated at capacity.
Cat paw prints on the control panels. Remember to lock-out-tag-out, Power Raccoons, and keep your own keys.
One of the only remaining pieces of equipment in the distilling room is this green control panel on a bridge suspended in the middle of it all.
Cracked gauges have a certain quality that hearkens to movies, I think. One can imagine the gauges going off the scales before dramatically cracking, throwing glass right at the camera. This damage, however, is unfortunate vandalism.
A natural reaction with this kind of view.
The ’59’ is just a reference to that work station. Unfortunately the scrappers beat me to this machine–there was not much left besides the 2-ton shell and this control panel.
In the brewhouse between the preheating tank and kettle room. The spiral staircase goes into a kettle annex where a few smaller stainless steel kettles hide. If you looked right from this frame you would see the bottom of one of the kettles like the bottom of a steel mixing bowl.
The power gauge showed… broken.
Maximum capacity exceeded.
One of the only modern features aboard was its bow and stern thrusters, which would have helped the Ford a lot, if it was not for the fact that without a working engine, forward motion was impossible. Strangely, even before it was scrapped, it could probably move side to side.
Part of a furnace control panel.
Between the gauges for the power plant boilers and the steam pump flywheels.
The generator room was state of the art when it was installed, allowing the complex to use motors and electric lighting ahead of its competitors.
A switchboard to control the flow of electricity into the plant from the city and generators.
Below the pressure gauges are rows of little pipe fitting drawers.
A control panel for the kilns row.
Without proper pressure, the steering engine was ineffective.
Pipe fittings in little drawers, lit by tea lights.
Levers and indicators to control and track the path of mine cars moving up and down the mine shaft. Note the mine depth indicators would trace paper… this is because the steel cables stretch out over time, so the line length changes with the years.
One of two projectors, still set to run old 3D flicks.
A wrecked pressure gauge and employee time cards.
Power-up to cool down… would have been nice on the hot day I climbed on top of this machine.
The gauges on left of frame are the steam pressure indicators for the various steam-powered components around the ship, like the steering engine and windlass motors. Below the gauges are a case of tiny wooden parts drawers… note the ancient oiling can on the locker near the upper-right corner of the frame.
Don’t let Mitchell Engine House run out of steam…
The power plant of the Old Crow distillery was mostly original. I didn’t have a tripod, so I had to balance my camera on the equipment there.
This volume gauge could be read from 30 feet away, which is useful when the control panels and valves are that far away.
On the middle level of the Poacher House. For a detailed view of the chart see ‘See Reverse’.
A few remnants of the control room that were not vandalized at this point; now it’s a different story, unfortunately. The tile is glazed ceramic to be permanently nonconductive.
The main shaft’s cable spooled with bird castings belies the fact that lives used to dangle from its steel-wound strength. Arrows on the circles would indicate the mine level the cars were currently at.
The secret sweet-yet-salty center of the nameless factoryscape. Home base, tuned to rule the AC and turn out Product X at record rates, I’m sure.
A 8-foot-tall volume indicator that could be read from across the beet boiler floor–convenient when the controls are 20 feet away.
In the grungy control room, I found a little slice that was never graffitied.
Spare firebox bricks palleted on the second floor, is if it was going to be repaired.