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.
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.
A 8-foot-tall volume indicator that could be read from across the beet boiler floor–convenient when the controls are 20 feet away.
Pipe fittings in little drawers, lit by tea lights.
Spare firebox bricks palleted on the second floor, is if it was going to be repaired.
Don’t let Mitchell Engine House run out of steam…
Unit 4’s lower levels.
I don’t think we’re anywhere near maximum pressure anymore.
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.
Part of a furnace control panel.
Without proper pressure, the steering engine was ineffective.
Much of the plant depended on steam, not only for heat but for mechanical power.
A switchboard to control the flow of electricity into the plant from the city and generators.
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.
Cat paw prints on the control panels. Remember to lock-out-tag-out, Power Raccoons, and keep your own keys.
Much of the signage in the mill was hand-drawn.
In the grungy control room, I found a little slice that was never graffitied.
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.
A control panel for the kilns row.
Most of the gauges on the control panels were broken.
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.
Between the gauges for the power plant boilers and the steam pump flywheels.
The power gauge showed… broken.
Around the corner from the old boiler room.
On the middle level of the Poacher House. For a detailed view of the chart see ‘See Reverse’.
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.
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.
Power-up to cool down… would have been nice on the hot day I climbed on top of this machine.
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.
This volume gauge could be read from 30 feet away, which is useful when the control panels and valves are that far away.
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.
Below the pressure gauges are rows of little pipe fitting drawers.
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.
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.
A wrecked pressure gauge and employee time cards.
Maximum capacity exceeded.
A natural reaction with this kind of view.
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.
One of two projectors, still set to run old 3D flicks.
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.