Pelican Parts Forums - Lesson learned

It's a long story about such a simple little thing. I seem to ramble on more about pointless details the older I get.

As the saying goes, luck protects little children, fools, and lovers. Sometimes little red turbos as well. It was a clear, beautiful evening here in Seattle. Naturally, the temptation to hop in the turbo after a long day of work for some quick therapy was irresistable, if not required. Ah, the breeze, the sunset, the whine of the flat six at your back. It's a combination that's tough to beat.

Turning down the empty boulevard, with the oil temps a hair above the 1st white mark, I gunned the gas a little and the worries fell away. Far away. Tach at 3K, 4K, 4.5K, 4K, 3.5K, uh oh. Loud pedal to the floor... 3.5K... 3K. Oh no, a hill. Clutch in and look for a place to land the 911. Nothing close. *****. As luck would have it though, I had just enough reserve momentum to ease the 911 up the hill into a nearby turn lane. Cranked the engine over a few times. Nothing. Tank is near full, power looks good, turn the key and the engine refuses to catch. *****. First time in 3 years the turbo has crapped out on me, otherwise it's been as reliable as the Seattle rain. Popped the hood and checked the usual stuff. Belts looked good, no loose cables flopping about, pulled the fuel pump relay, relay and socket both looked fine. Reinsert and turn the key, hoping that it was just the common loose fuel pump relay problem that this particular vintage of the turbo family seem to have from time to time... nothing. The groceries are starting to melt. *****.

Jogged a block down the road to a gas station and called for a tow. Got ahold of an outfit that promised to dispatch a flatbed out to me in a few minutes. Great. While watching the sun set over Pacific Northwestern horizon and the ailing turbo in the distant turn lane, I suddenly remembered that I completely forgot to check the fuel pump fuse! Argh. Quick jog over back to the 911 and a passing truck driver kindly volunteered his help in pushing the turbo to the gas station down the road. Wow. A random act of kindness. I gladly accepted the offer of help and a minute later the turbo is safely parked in the parking lot of the gas station. After thanking the man, I popped trunk and went about investigating the fuse box. Broke out the flashlight and clicked it on. Click. Click Click Click. Damn it! The batteries are dead.

Luckily the tow truck driver showed up right on time and found me even though the car is not the place that I had reported to the tow company. "Got a flashlight?" I yelled. "Sure do. Be right there".

Lo and behold, #6 is toast (fuel pump). Damn it, the one fuse I don't have a spare for! As I'm kicking myself for being so negligent, a quick check on the fuse box cover pointed me to #2, the sacrificial matching fuse that will hold me over until I get home and to Pelican. I don't think I'll be needing my A/C or the seat adjustments for the trip home anyways. Popped out #2, cleaned it off, replaced the carcass that was #6 and the engine roars sweetly back to life. After thanking the tow truck driver for not charging me for the trip out, I scurried back home.

Looks like Pelican is going to get an order from me shortly.