Having spent £17.50 on more capacitors than I really needed in not quite the value that I'd eventually need I bought the signal generator for the asking price of £25, knowing that it would be a nightmare or a wonderful character-building challenge.
The seller assured me that it was blowing a fuse in the power supply and that this "was good" because "it meant that the problem was in the power supply". This was a very poorly constructed theory but I didn't argue because I already knew that it would be full of tantalum capacitors in various states of distress. Then he dropped the bombshell that "it worked when I injected power into the motherboard directly". My investigations suggest that this was probably "worked" that was limited to some of the front panel LEDs lighting up and the LED display showing some numbers, but that's good enough for a lot of sellers.
Arriving home I decided to check what the 9084 really did, so I fetched a 2A fuse (okay, 1.6A since I have a big bag of those) and fired it up. The fuse blew immediately, so I fired it up without the motherboard attached and noted that +24V was missing. This turned out to be a shorted tantalum and a destroyed TO-3 shaped 7824 regulator. I replaced the tantalum with one from my rally selection and the 7824 got swapped for a TO-220 version.
I needed a manual, luckily there is one available for free* online.
* it's on a website that wanted me to join but I didn't want to, so I didn't and found a way around its annoying ads
The 9084 is internally divided into three groups of RF screened boxes that sit atop a motherboard, with a chassis at the rear holding power supply parts and the OCXO and a front panel with a sandwich of two front panel related PCBs and a display PCB, so I removed a lot of screws to get a better look at all of this.
I checked a few tantalum beads on the +15V rail and found a few that were now two leads and a pile of dispersed ashes and a few that were shorted. so I snipped the shorted ones and reattached the motherboard and decided to measure all the rails - something that was cut short by more smoke and a blown fuse. This time I'd seen that -15V was missing, so more tantalum capacitors were snipped and a few were replaced. Then the cycle repeated several times and after a while I had a display showing 0.0000000MHz and some front panel LEDs, some of which responded to switch presses in the correct way, some of which didn't. Also, effectively no RF output but the audio signal generator used for modulation was working and controllable which was a good sign. The OCXO was cold but producing approximately the right frequency, so that was nice.
I think most people would've given up at this point because it was clearly going to be a lot of work and I had underestimated the complexity of the instrument and some of the interesting ways in which it could fail, too.
Then the 24V rail failed again, my rally tantalum had let me down, but it turns out that I was an idiot using 25V parts on a 24V rail (like RACAL did), so that was easily fixed.
Dismantling the front panel more to investigate the not-working LEDs revealed that they had failed open - this is often a very bad sign - memories of the seller "injecting power" came back. I replaced these with what I had to hand, which included some clear lens green LEDs that are so bright you can read by them. This worked but was a stop-gap and I've ordered some proper diffuse green LEDs. With all the LEDs available it was clear that the logic for band selection was very broken - as all the band LEDs were lit. It couldn't be in every band at once and indeed it wasn't. The band switcher works by starting a clock when you press a band button, then activating each band's LED and switch line one after another until it finds the band that has been selected. It was not finding a band and it was starting on its own, so something was stuck electronically (I ruled out the switch early on). I decided to remove the front panel board and operate it from a bench supply where it behaved very well indeed. The fault disappeared when a scope probe was placed on the outputs of a faulty 4049CN chip, so when I tested it on the bench I couldn't see a problem!
This mysterious fault turned out to be a theme, in total three 4049CN chips from the same manufacturer all had one or more bad units in them. The funniest was the 4049 that is used to flash the display when one or more of the PLLs is out of lock. This is supposed to flash at a few Hz but I measured it, it was "flashing" at 4.3MHz. A 4049 from a different manufacturer was absolutely fine.
With the front panel rebuilt and its logic performing more as the designers had expected I was able to switch bands and enjoy none of them working.
The manual places the schematics in approximately the same order as the signal flow, which is nice, so I started at the beginning. The reference/source board, I changed a tantalum on this and it worked perfectly - giving me a 1MHz, 10MHz and 1kHz output, all derived from the OCXO. I extracted the 1kHz comb loop and fired it up with external signals and it worked perfectly. The same wasn't true of every other board!
Most boards needed tantalum capacitors but a few had spicier faults like the diode switched filter board which had one unit of a 4041AE (it's a buffer chip with complementary outputs) that wasn't producing any output. I replaced the bad unit with two units of a piggy-backed 4069UBE but have ordered a proper replacement 4041UBE which should arrive in a few days.
The output loop and the 1MHz loop both needed minor inductor tweaks, presumably because of component age drift. The 9-10MHz oscillator wouldn't start because its supply rail was being halved by a resistive tantalum capacitor. And here's where I rant. RACAL-DANA chose to design this thing such that each of the many, many loops sends "out of lock" using individual open collector outputs then connected them all in parallel. This means the control logic only gets to know that something is out of lock - not what is out of lock. It's a demented solution in a synth with so many loops. I added out of lock LEDs to each loop, they're only visible with the screened boxes open, but they're really helpful.
There's no computer in it, which means that all the complex states are stored in PROMs. Many, many PROMs. There isn't even a clever FSM, all the counters and the possible machine states are mapped from a combination of the selected frequency, modulation type and range to a series of parallel BCD and not BCD lines. This is fabulous from a noise point of view but there are loads of interconnecting wires and the remote uses a 50-way connector.
So at this point I have the loops locked and with the correct filter being selected but the ALC isn't working, output is very low (too low for a counter!) and distorted. The fault is, of course, the BeO loaded RF amplifier. Luckily the BeO part can be removed entirely and as long as it's not run for too long it can be tested outside the generator with only a +15V and -15V supply. So I did that and found many bad tantalum capacitors but everything else seemed okay.
Before bed I thought I'd try injecting small ALC currents in to see if I could change the gain. I could turn it down but not up, seems it was turned up to full all the time - suggesting the amplifier itself wasn't providing enough gain. This corresponds with the power vernier having no effect, it's a DC control loop and it was already doing all it could.
In the morning I plugged the amplifier into my "out of the box" bench setup but omitted to correct the polarity that I'd been using the previous night to adjust the ALC. The red was in the black and the black was in the red and I had not noticed, though I was immediately curious about the current draw and smoke. Oops. Damage was limited to all the capacitors that I'd just changed and the TL082 op amps that I hadn't tested yet anyway. Somehow all the 2N5160 and 2N5109s were fine, even the BFR91 that drives all that was working. When I changed all the charcoal parts it worked perfectly with about 25dB gain and >20dBm output before hitting gain compression. I'd had a lucky escape that had also resulted in the board working better than it did before I set it on fire. Nice.
This morning I've reassembled the generator and done some performance tests. It's really clean and quiet, all the ranges below 60-104 use dividers to some extent so phase noise is impressively low (I can only measure this as residual FM at the moment, but it's very noticeably better than my Marconi 2019A**). AM noise is also reasonable, with the tiniest smidgen of mains hum that isn't enough to get the 8901B to show anything more than 0.01% AM depth.
I should add that everything about working on this generator feels like a test, it's all so annoying that it must be a deliberate joke. Funny stuff like the LEDs on the front panel "fit them by pushing them into their holes, reassembling the entire front panel, then soldering the leads?" YES. REALLY. (I didn't, I did it by eye because I had to do about 15 of them and it's not really possible to fit them dry, they just fall out, you'd have to tack solder them then resolder later but it's also impossible to move them around and adjust them so perhaps they used a jig at the factory?!). Flying leads on every board down into a screening can that you can't reach into, even with long nose pliers holding the plugs, meaning it's almost impossible to connect or disconnect any of the plugs. No extraction levers on the individual cards, you have to use a screwdriver or similar hooked holes in the PCBs that are only nearly in the right place to lever them safely. Every part of it made me want to scream into the void but I kind of enjoyed the challenge. I have heard from someone who used to work on these that many were beyond economic repair because technicians beat them with hammers out of frustration.
I will update in a few days when I rebuild the front panel with non-dazzle LEDs.
Here's the filter
