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About two weeks ago, after a long day of yard-work, James and I took the car my wife usually drives to wash it and fill it up with gas. There was a line at the car wash, so we proceeded to the gas pump and I added 14 liters of essence (regular) to the tank before realizing I had put the wrong kind of gas in the car. Realizing that the useful life of my principal vehicle was in jeopardy, I immediately stopped the pump, paid for the essence, and filled the rest of the tank with Gazoil (Diesel). I then paid again, and drove the car directly into a parking spot where it would sit for the rest of the evening. You can imagine the feeling I had as I sat there wondering what to do.
After a call to my wife and searching the web on my phone for answers on how to deal with this undesirable scenario, I looked at James, said a little prayer and decided to act. We went quickly into the Carrefour (as it was about to close) and bought some food (it was dinner time and we were hungry) a large water container, some box tape and two lengths of hose to siphon the gas from the tank.
People were staring at our operation with interest as they drove by and we wondered how long it would be before the police showed up and arrested us for what I’m sure appeared to be an attempt to siphon someone else’s gas.
An hour later it was dark, the store was closed, and we had managed to successfully get the hose into the tank. However, the hose was stuck and broken in half so the closest part was about 30 cm down the fill pipe. I had made a mistake, and in an attempt to correct it I had stacked another on top of it. The fuel was still sitting uninterested inside the tank - nothing had been siphoned out.
The hose must have chuckled to itself as it watched me unsuccessfully attempt to retrieve it with a contraption made of a hacksaw blade and a woven noose of dental-floss. I imagine it would have laughed if it could have seen me dancing about in frustration, kicking at the ground and spitting through my teeth. My mind was a smudge of black tar.
At this moment, a good friend showed up - a control systems engineer from ITER. Meredith, to whom I owe just about everything, saved me once again by calling our mechanically gifted friend Will, who was kind enough to come. He calmly addressed the problem as an engineer would - with measured consistency, addressing all aspects and possibilities. I imagine him seeing an exploded view of the entire vehicle in glowing blue, circling as his mind. With his help, and the help of a hand operated siphon pump he had somehow thought to bring, 35 litres of mixed fuel was removed from the tank, and we were able to re-fill and re-start the car.
I pulled out of the parking lot dirty, tired, hungry, and psychologically drained. Driving home through the dark, I reflected on the experience with gratefulness to those who surround and support us here in France, and those who support from afar. Thanks to all.
Mike
