Professional Documents
Culture Documents
vii
viii Contents
ix
x Contents
I worked in the premier engineering consultancy firm of India, M/S Development Consultants
Private Limited (DCPL), for more than four decades. During this long tenure I had the
opportunity to work in innumerable thermal power plants of various sizes and configurations.
The most important part of this association was my exposure to chronological development in
power plant technology, both within and outside India. Against this backdrop, when I was
executing various projects I observed that there is a dearth of published books wherein various
aspects of preoperational activities are consolidated. This was the starting point in getting
motivated to write this book, Thermal Power Plant—Preoperational Activities, in which I tried
my utmost to incorporate the state-of-the-art technology applicable to these activities.
Design of a thermal power plant is a desktop study, while operation of the plant falls exclusively
within the purview of field engineering. In between design and operation there are certain areas,
generally known in the industry as preoperational activities. The procedure for execution of
these activities is developed during desktop study, but is executed in field only. So these
activities act as a go-between for design and operation to ensure unruffled power generation as
far as the end user is concerned. Thus, this book may be construed as complemental to my
previous book, Thermal Power Plant—Design and Operation, published by Elsevier.
This book aims to address some of the essential preoperational activities which are extremely
important to carry out in line with the practice followed in the industry globally. Smooth,
trouble-free, and economic operation of thermal power plants can be ensured if preoperational
activities are carried out with the utmost care in order to establish that prior to the start-up of
various systems, equipment, and/or the plant as a whole, they would be ready in all respects in
accordance with manufacturers’ recommendations, and at the same time fulfill all requirements
of applicable statutory guidelines. The main purpose of addressing the essential features of
preoperational activities is to ensure economic generation from a plant. Hence, the primary
focus of this book is on professional engineers.
The contents of the book are such that the book should not be treated as a conventional textbook
used in technical institutes. For design engineers, this book would act as a reference to help
them develop project-specific precommissioning manuals of a new plant. It would also fulfill
the needs of commissioning engineers, suppliers, and utility operators during the execution
xv
xvi Preface
fulfilling these aspects. Thereafter the QC team takes over to ensure successful completion of
each preoperational activity, following the steps of developing preparatory arrangements,
operating procedures to be followed, availability of required materials (chemicals/water/any
special gadgets), availability of safety equipment, and so on.
Looking toward commissioning of a new plant or recommissioning of a running plant from
availability of electric power to commercial operation, the effective order of preoperational
activities that are generally followed in the industry are presented here:
1. Hydraulic test of steam generator
2. Airtightness/leakage test of the furnace, air, and flue gas paths of steam generator
3. Alkali flushing of preboiler system
4. Flushing of fuel oil piping system
5. Blowing of fuel gas piping system
6. Steam generator initial firing and drying out of insulation
7. Chemical cleaning of steam generator
8. Flushing of lube oil piping system
9. Steam/air blowing of main steam, cold reheat, hot reheat, and other steam pipe lines
10. Floating of steam generator safety valves
11. Clean airflow test of pulverizers
12. Condenser flood test and vacuum-tightness test
13. Generator drying out and airtightness test
14. Filling of generator with hydrogen and protection stability test of generator
15. Completion test of the power station
While some of the aforementioned activities pertain to the preoperational cleaning of piping
systems, the remaining activities are conducted to ensure the integrity of critical equipment.
Hence, preoperational activities, as laid down in this book, are addressed under Part 1 and Part 2,
as categorized here:
isolation, even inadvertently, may lead to harm, injury, or major disaster of the plant and
personnel. In order to obviate such an inadvertent attempt of violation, warning tags of various
types are applied on isolated valves/areas/systems. Typical “Tagging Procedures” delineating
various warning content are therefore presented in Appendix C of this book.
In accordance with current global practice, SI units have been used throughout the book.
Nevertheless, for the convenience of readers, conversion factors from SI units to the metric
system of units to the imperial and US system of units are addressed in Appendix D.
Reader suggestions for the improvement of the contents of this book are welcome, and would
be acknowledged gratefully by the author.
Dipak K. Sarkar
June 30, 2016
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Acknowledgments
The overwhelming response I received from power engineers for my book Thermal Power
Plant—Design and Operation prompted me to write this book. I am sincerely thankful to
the power engineering community for motivating me in this regard. I also am indebted to
my colleagues and friends in the industry for their advice on bridging the gap between the
design and operation of a thermal power plant in the form of a book on preoperational
activities. I am particularly grateful to Mr. Samiran Chakraboty, retired chief engineer,
erstwhile M/S ACC Babcock Limited (ABL), currently M/S Alstom India Limited, who
firmly expressed the necessity of a book on preoperational activities of a thermal power
plant for the benefit of members of start-up, commissioning, and operation engineering
departments.
I also am indebted to M/S Development Consultants Private Limited (DCPL) because while
working in this organization I received exposure to a variety of technologies chosen by different
manufacturers adopted in different countries, the benefits of which were reaped while writing
this book.
Mr. S.K. Saha, general manager DCPL, an outstanding operation engineer, shared his long
experience that helped me in preparing the manuscript. I gratefully acknowledge Mr. Saha’s
support.
While I was in DCPL I learnt many aspects of electrical system and electrical protection system
from my the then colleagues Mr. P.S. Bhattacharya and Mr. S.K. Bhattacharya. Knowledge
gathered thus was subsequently honed at the field. Chapters 15 and 16 might not have been
developed by me without my interaction with both the Bhattacharyas. I am specially indebted
to them.
I thank my son, Krishanu, daughter, Purbita, and son-in-law, Sudip, who were the source of
encouragement in writing this book. My wife Anita’s inspiration needs special mention;
without her ceaseless support I could not have finished the book on time.
xxi
xxii Acknowledgments
μS Microsiemens
a, abs Absolute
A Ash (content in coal)/ampere
ABMA American Boiler Manufacturers Association
A/C Air/cloth
AC Alternating current/air conditioning
ACF Activated carbon filter
ACW Auxiliary cooling water
ad Air dried
AFBC Atmospheric fluidized bed combustion
AFR Air-fuel ratio
AH Air heater
AHS Ash handling system
a.k.a. Also known as
ANSI American National Standards Institute
APC Auxiliary power consumption
API American Petroleum Institute
APS Automatic plant start-up and shutdown system
AQC Air quality control (ESP/bag filter and FGD)
ar As received
AS Auxiliary steam
ASME American Society of Mechanical Engineers
ASTM American Society for Testing & Materials
atm Atmosphere
AVR Automatic voltage regulator
AVT All volatile treatment
AWWA American Water Works Association
b Bar
B Billion
BA Bottom ash
xxiii
xxiv List of Acronyms/Abbreviations
M
orning clatters with the first L train
down Allen Street. Daylight rattles
through the windows, shaking the old
brick houses, splatters the girders of the L
structure with bright confetti.
The cats are leaving the garbage cans,
the chinches are going back into the walls,
leaving sweaty limbs, leaving the
grimetender necks of little children asleep.
Men and women stir under blankets and
bedquilts on mattresses in the corners of
rooms, clots of kids begin to untangle to
scream and kick.
At the corner of Riverton the old man with
the hempen beard who sleeps where
nobody knows is putting out his picklestand.
Tubs of gherkins, pimentos, melonrind,
piccalilli give out twining vines and cold
tendrils of dank pepperyfragrance that grow
like a marshgarden out of the musky
bedsmells and the rancid clangor of the
cobbled awakening street.
The old man with the hempen beard who
sleeps where nobody knows sits in the midst
of it like Jonah under his gourd.
Sunlight dripped in her face through the little holes in the brim of
her straw hat. She was walking with brisk steps too short on account
of her narrow skirt; through the thin china silk the sunlight tingled like
a hand stroking her back. In the heavy heat streets, stores, people in
Sunday clothes, strawhats, sunshades, surfacecars, taxis, broke and
crinkled brightly about her grazing her with sharp cutting glints as if
she were walking through piles of metalshavings. She was groping
continually through a tangle of gritty saw-edged brittle noise.
At Lincoln Square a girl rode slowly through the traffic on a white
horse; chestnut hair hung down in even faky waves over the horse’s
chalky rump and over the giltedged saddlecloth where in green
letters pointed with crimson, read Danderine. She had on a green
Dolly Varden hat with a crimson plume; one hand in a white gauntlet
nonchalantly jiggled at the reins, in the other wabbled a goldknobbed
riding crop.
Ellen watched her pass; then she followed a smudge of green
through a cross-street to the Park. A smell of trampled sunsinged
grass came from boys playing baseball. All the shady benches were
full of people. When she crossed the curving automobile road her
sharp French heels sank into the asphalt. Two sailors were sprawling
on a bench in the sun; one of them popped his lips as she passed,
she could feel their seagreedy eyes cling stickily to her neck, her
thighs, her ankles. She tried to keep her hips from swaying so much
as she walked. The leaves were shriveled on the saplings along the
path. South and east sunnyfaced buildings hemmed in the Park, to
the west they were violet with shadow. Everything was itching
sweaty dusty constrained by policemen and Sunday clothes. Why
hadn’t she taken the L? She was looking in the black eyes of a
young man in a straw hat who was drawing up a red Stutz roadster
to the curb. His eyes twinkled in hers, he jerked back his head
smiling an upsidedown smile, pursing his lips so that they seemed to
brush her cheek. He pulled the lever of the brake and opened the
door with the other hand. She snapped her eyes away and walked
on with her chin up. Two pigeons with metalgreen necks and feet of
coral waddled out of her way. An old man was coaxing a squirrel to
fish for peanuts in a paper bag.
All in green on a white stallion rode the Lady of the Lost
Battalion.... Green, green, danderine ... Godiva in the haughty
mantle of her hair....
General Sherman in gold interrupted her. She stopped a second
to look at the Plaza that gleamed white as motherofpearl.... Yes this
is Elaine Oglethorpe’s apartment.... She climbed up onto a
Washington Square bus. Sunday afternoon Fifth Avenue filed by
rosily dustily jerkily. On the shady side there was an occasional man
in a top hat and frock coat. Sunshades, summer dresses, straw hats
were bright in the sun that glinted in squares on the upper windows
of houses, lay in bright slivers on the hard paint of limousines and
taxicabs. It smelled of gasoline and asphalt, of spearmint and
talcumpowder and perfume from the couples that jiggled closer and
closer together on the seats of the bus. In an occasional
storewindow, paintings, maroon draperies, varnished antique chairs
behind plate glass. The St. Regis. Sherry’s. The man beside her
wore spats and lemon gloves, a floorwalker probably. As they
passed St. Patrick’s she caught a whiff of incense through the tall
doors open into gloom. Delmonico’s. In front of her the young man’s
arm was stealing round the narrow gray flannel back of the girl
beside him.
“Jez ole Joe had rotten luck, he had to marry her. He’s only
nineteen.”
“I suppose you would think it was hard luck.”
“Myrtle I didn’t mean us.”
“I bet you did. An anyways have you ever seen the girl?”
“I bet it aint his.”
“What?”
“The kid.”
“Billy how dreadfully you do talk.”
Fortysecond Street. Union League Club. “It was a most amusing
gathering ... most amusing.... Everybody was there. For once the
speeches were delightful, made me think of old times,” croaked a
cultivated voice behind her ear. The Waldorf. “Aint them flags swell
Billy.... That funny one is cause the Siamese ambassador is staying
there. I read about it in the paper this morning.”
When thou and I my love shall come to part, Then shall I press an
ineffable last kiss Upon your lips and go ... heart, start, who art ...
Bliss, this, miss ... When thou ... When you and I my love ...
Eighth Street. She got down from the bus and went into the
basement of the Brevoort. George sat waiting with his back to the
door snapping and unsnapping the lock of his briefcase. “Well Elaine
it’s about time you turned up.... There aren’t many people I’d sit
waiting three quarters of an hour for.”
“George you mustn’t scold me; I’ve been having the time of my
life. I haven’t had such a good time in years. I’ve had the whole day
all to myself and I walked all the way down from 105th Street to
Fiftyninth through the Park. It was full of the most comical people.”
“You must be tired.” His lean face where the bright eyes were
caught in a web of fine wrinkles kept pressing forward into hers like
the prow of a steamship.
“I suppose you’ve been at the office all day George.”
“Yes I’ve been digging out some cases. I cant rely on anyone else
to do even routine work thoroughly, so I have to do it myself.”
“Do you know I had it all decided you’d say that.”
“What?”
“About waiting three quarters of an hour.”
“Oh you know altogether too much Elaine.... Have some pastries
with your tea?”
“Oh but I dont know anything about anything, that’s the trouble.... I
think I’ll take lemon please.”
Glasses clinked about them; through blue cigarettesmoke faces
hats beards wagged, repeated greenish in the mirrors.
“But my de-e-ar it’s always the same old complex. It may be true
of men but it says nothing in regard to women,” droned a woman’s
voice from the next table.... “Your feminism rises into an insuperable
barrier,” trailed a man’s husky meticulous tones. “What if I am an
egoist? God knows I’ve suffered for it.” “Fire that purifies, Charley....”
George was speaking, trying to catch her eye. “How’s the famous
Jojo?”
“Oh let’s not talk about him.”
“The less said about him the better eh?”
“Now George I wont have you sneer at Jojo, for better or worse
he is my husband, till divorce do us part.... No I wont have you laugh.
You’re too crude and simple to understand him anyway. Jojo’s a very
complicated rather tragic person.”
“For God’s sake don’t let’s talk about husbands and wives. The
important thing, little Elaine, is that you and I are sitting here together
without anyone to bother us.... Look when are we going to see each
other again, really see each other, really....”
“We’re not going to be too real about this, are we George?” She
laughed softly into her cup.
“Oh but I have so many things to say to you. I want to ask you so
many things.”
She looked at him laughing, balancing a small cherry tartlet that
had one bite out of it between a pink squaretipped finger and thumb.
“Is that the way you act when you’ve got some miserable sinner on
the witnessbox? I thought it was more like: Where were you on the
night of February thirtyfirst?”
“But I’m dead serious, that’s what you cant understand, or wont.”
A young man stood at the table, swaying a little, looking down at
them. “Hello Stan, where the dickens did you come from?” Baldwin
looked up at him without smiling. “Look Mr. Baldwin I know it’s awful
rude, but may I sit down at your table a second. There’s somebody
looking for me who I just cant meet. O God that mirror! Still they’d
never look for me if they saw you.”
“Miss Oglethorpe this is Stanwood Emery, the son of the senior
partner in our firm.”
“Oh it’s so wonderful to meet you Miss Oglethorpe. I saw you last
night, but you didn’t see me.”
“Did you go to the show?”
“I almost jumped over the foots I thought you were so wonderful.”
He had a ruddy brown skin, anxious eyes rather near the bridge
of a sharp fragillycut nose, a big mouth never still, wavy brown hair
that stood straight up. Ellen looked from one to the other inwardly
giggling. They were all three stiffening in their chairs.
“I saw the danderine lady this afternoon,” she said. “She
impressed me enormously. Just my idea of a great lady on a white
horse.”
“With rings on her finger and bells on her toes, And she shall
make mischief wherever she goes.” Stan rattled it off quickly under
his breath.
“Music, isnt it?” put in Ellen laughing. “I always say mischief.”
“Well how’s college?” asked Baldwin in a dry uncordial voice.
“I guess it’s still there,” said Stan blushing. “I wish they’d burn it
down before I got back.” He got to his feet. “You must excuse me Mr.
Baldwin.... My intrusion was infernally rude.” As he turned leaning
towards Ellen she smelled his grainy whiskey breath. “Please forgive
it, Miss Oglethorpe.”
She found herself holding out her hand; a dry skinny hand
squeezed it hard. He strode out with swinging steps bumping into a
waiter as he went.
“I cant make out that infernal young puppy,” burst out Baldwin.
“Poor old Emery’s heartbroken about it. He’s darn clever and has a
lot of personality and all that sort of thing, but all he does is drink and
raise Cain.... I guess all he needs is to go to work and get a sense of
values. Too much money’s what’s the matter with most of those
collegeboys.... Oh but Elaine thank God we’re alone again. I have
worked continuously all my life ever since I was fourteen. The time
has come when I want to lay aside all that for a while. I want to live
and travel and think and be happy. I cant stand the pace of
downtown the way I used to. I want to learn to play, to ease off the
tension.... That’s where you come in.”
“But I don’t want to be the nigger on anybody’s safety-valve.” She
laughed and let the lashes fall over her eyes.
“Let’s go out to the country somewhere this evening. I’ve been
stifling in the office all day. I hate Sunday anyway.”
“But my rehearsal.”
“You could be sick. I’ll phone for a car.”
“Golly there’s Jojo.... Hello Jojo”; she waved her gloves above her
head.
John Oglethorpe, his face powdered, his mouth arranged in a
careful smile above his standup collar, advanced between the
crowded tables, holding out his hand tightly squeezed into buff
gloves with black stripes. “Heow deo you deo, my deah, this is
indeed a surprise and a pleajah.”
“You know each other, don’t you? This is Mr. Baldwin.”
“Forgive me if I intrude ... er ... upon a tête à tête.”
“Nothing of the sort, sit down and we’ll all have a highball.... I was
just dying to see you really Jojo.... By the way if you havent anything
else to do this evening you might slip in down front for a few minutes.
I want to know what you think about my reading of the part....”
“Certainly my deah, nothing could give me more pleajah.”
His whole body tense George Baldwin leaned back with his hand
clasped behind the back of his chair. “Waiter ...” He broke his words
off sharp like metal breaking. “Three Scotch highballs at once
please.”
Oglethorpe rested his chin on the silver ball of his cane.
“Confidence, Mr. Baldwin,” he began, “confidence between husband
and wife is a very beautiful thing. Space and time have no effect on
it. Were one of us to go to China for a thousand years it would not
change our affection one tittle.”
“You see George, what’s the matter with Jojo is that he read too
much Shakespeare in his youth.... But I’ve got to go or Merton will be
bawling me out again.... Talk about industrial slavery. Jojo tell him
about Equity.”
Baldwin got to his feet. There was a slight flush on his
cheekbones. “Wont you let me take you up to the theater,” he said
through clenched teeth.
“I never let anyone take me anywhere ... And Jojo you must stay
sober to see me act.”
Fifth Avenue was pink and white under pink and white clouds in a
fluttering wind that was fresh after the cloying talk and choke of
tobaccosmoke and cocktails. She waved the taxistarter off merrily
and smiled at him. Then she found a pair of anxious eyes looking
into hers seriously out of a higharched brown face.
“I waited round to see you come out. Cant I take you somewhere?
I’ve got my Ford round the corner.... Please.”
“But I’m just going up to the theater. I’ve got a rehearsal.”
“All right do let me take you there.”
She began putting a glove on thoughtfully. “All right, but it’s an
awful imposition on you.”
“That’s fine. It’s right round here.... It was awfully rude of me to
butt in that way, wasn’t it? But that’s another story.... Anyway I’ve met
you. The Ford’s name is Dingo, but that’s another story too....”
“Still it’s nice to meet somebody humanly young. There’s nobody
humanly young round New York.”
His face was scarlet when he leaned to crank the car. “Oh I’m too
damn young.”
The motor sputtered, started with a roar. He jumped round and
cut off the gas with a long hand. “We’ll probably get arrested; my
muffler’s loose and liable to drop off.”
At Thirtyfourth Street they passed a girl riding slowly through the
traffic on a white horse; chestnut hair hung down in even faky waves
over the horse’s chalky rump and over the giltedged saddlecloth
where in green letters pointed with crimson read Danderine.
“Rings on her fingers,” chanted Stan pressing his buzzer, “And
bells on her toes, And she shall cure dandruff wherever it grows.”
II. Longlegged Jack of the Isthmus
N
oon on Union Square. Selling out. Must
vacate. WE HAVE MADE A TERRIBLE
MISTAKE. Kneeling on the dusty
asphalt little boys shine shoes lowshoes
tans buttonshoes oxfords. The sun shines
like a dandelion on the toe of each new-
shined shoe. Right this way buddy, mister
miss maam at the back of the store our new
line of fancy tweeds highest value lowest
price ... Gents, misses, ladies, cutrate ... WE
HAVE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE. Must
vacate.
Noon sunlight spirals dimly into the
chopsuey joint. Muted music spirals
Hindustan. He eats fooyong, she eats
chowmein. They dance with their mouths
full, slim blue jumper squeezed to black slick
suit, peroxide curls against black slick hair.
Down Fourteenth Street, Glory Glory
comes the Army, striding lasses, Glory Glory
four abreast, the rotund shining, navy blue,
Salvation Army band.
Highest value, lowest price. Must vacate.
WE HAVE MADE A TERRIBLE MISTAKE.
Must vacate.
From Liverpool, British steamer Raleigh, Captain
Kettlewell; 933 bales, 881 boxes, 10 baskets, 8 packages
fabrics: 57 boxes, 89 bales, 18 baskets cotton thread: 156
bales felt: 4 bales asbestos: 100 sacks spools....
oe Harland stopped typing and looked up at the ceiling. The tips
J of his fingers were sore. The office smelled stalely of paste and
manifests and men in shirtsleeves. Through the open window he
could see a piece of the dun wall of an airshaft and a man with a
green eyeshade staring vacantly out of a window. The towheaded
officeboy set a note on the corner of his desk: Mr. Pollock will see
you at 5:10. A hard lump caught in his throat; he’s going to fire me.
His fingers started tapping again:
From Glasgow, Dutch steamer Delft, Captain Tromp; 200
bales, 123 boxes, 14 kegs....
Joe Harland roamed about the Battery till he found an empty seat
on a bench, then he let himself flop into it. The sun was drowning in
tumultuous saffron steam behind Jersey. Well that’s over. He sat a
long while staring at the sunset like at a picture in a dentist’s waiting
room. Great whorls of smoke from a passing tug curled up black and
scarlet against it. He sat staring at the sunset, waiting. That’s
eighteen dollars and fifty cents I had before, less six dollars for the
room, one dollar and eighty-four cents for laundry, and four dollars
and fifty cents I owe Charley, makes seven dollars and eighty-four
cents, eleven dollars and eighty four cents, twelve dollars and thirty-
four cents from eighteen dollars and fifty cents leaves me six dollars
and sixteen cents, three days to find another job if I go without
drinks. O God wont my luck ever turn; used to have good enough
luck in the old days. His knees were trembling, there was a sick
burning in the pit of his stomach.
A fine mess you’ve made of your life Joseph Harland. Forty-five
and no friends and not a cent to bless yourself with.
The sail of a catboat was a crimson triangle when it luffed a few
feet from the concrete walk. A young man and a young girl ducked
together as the slender boom swung across. They both were
bronzed with the sun and had yellow weather bleached hair. Joe
Harland gnawed his lip to keep back the tears as the catboat shrank
into the ruddy murk of the bay. By God I need a drink.
“Aint it a croime? Aint it a croime?” The man in the seat to the left
of him began to say over and over again. Joe Harland turned his