Laptop Repair à la Backyard Dentistry

A friend of mine had purchased a nice Alienware laptop a number of years ago (an AW15R3), and it had some serious problems. He wanted help repairing it – and in fact, he had already done a great deal of diligence in tracking down problems and solutions. Here’s how we pulled a bad tooth out of a problematic laptop, so to speak, and restored it to its former glory!

Mikes beast of a laptop was now out of warranty; the laptop would power on to a black screen and get very hot. Mike got his hands on a thermal imaging camera and got to work analyzing the problem:

Well, there was clearly a problem. Unsurprisingly, it was in the power supply circuitry. You can see just how hot this thing was running:


Mike managed to source a schematic for the laptop (I have no idea how, I’ve never been so lucky!) and asked for my help troubleshooting the power section and repairing this unit. I had just received my hot-air rework gun, so this came with good timing!

After some brainstorming, we reasoned that the likeliest cause (And one that would be possible to fix) was that one or more of the circled power MOSFETs had gone bad – and indeed one of them correlates to the hot spot on the motherboard:

Of course, it could be the supporting circuitry that caused the MOSFET(s) to fail in the first place. Nothing else appeared damaged, so we took the chance. We sourced the replacement parts and got to work repairing the unit. Our game-plan was to replace all of the MOSFETs circled. However – we underestimated just how much heat it takes to get the solder flowing on this multi-layer motherboard, undoubtedly with many large copper planes for the power supply:

I couldn’t tell you how long we spent trying to get one of these power MOSFETs to reflow – easily over half an hour. This is normally done with a large oven to bring the whole board up to temperature before rework. We made do with brute force and ignorance.

And so – with inadequate heat and too much force, We managed to get some of the bad parts off of the board – it became apparent that soldering something back on was out of the question. We were getting hopeless – you can see some of the copper pads lifting underneath a MOSFET die… yes, we pried the case off, and the die was still stuck to the board…

Not my proudest work….

But, wait a minute – looking at the schematic, these MOSFETs have parallel counterparts on the other side of the PCB. What’s the current capacity of these things, anyway?

These MOSFETs can each handle 24A pretty handily, and the current calculations printed in the schematic worked out to under 20A total – so, theoretically, this laptop did not need the paralleled capacity, if the calculations are to be trusted. It looks as if they were paralleled to spread out the heat a little bit, and perhaps for some added redundancy. We had removed the thermally challenged MOSFET; could this thing “just work” at this point? I was skeptical about turning the unit on, but Mike was willing to accept the risks. We soldered some of the casualties back in place (diodes) and cleaned up the desoldering mess as best we could. We reassembled the laptop, booted it into a diagnostic mode – and everything worked!

I don’t know that I’ve ever fixed something by removing a part. We effectively pulled a bad tooth out of the laptop, and the problems all disappeared. Go figure. Mike stress tested it with some intensive gaming when he got home, and the thermal issues had entirely disappeared.

So – when your laptop is misbehaving, should you go removing parts? Absolutely not. I will point out that we had an appropriate fire extinguisher present during all of our tests. Power electronics can get very – well, “explodey” – this is why we did all of our testing outside! This was only remotely advisable on account of the research and precautions that Mike and I had done (okay, it was mostly Mike!)

A big thank-you to Mike for the fun project, the hard research, and the photos. You can catch Mike Himbeault on reddit and github.

Projects from the grapevine: Bárány chair repair

Note: this blog post has been produced with permission from the client.

Update (2020-12-31): After receiving and installing the replacement parts, we have another successful repair! Here’s a video of the result:

Recently, a repair job came across my plate for some exotic test equipment: a “Bárány chair” used for testing pilots. This is one of those odd projects that comes through a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend. No electricians or repair technicians in the city were willing to touch this niche equipment – and I can’t blame them! I couldn’t find any information on this machine whatsoever.

Like most of you, I don’t specialize in exotic chairs – so what is a Bárány chair? From Wikipedia:

The Barany chair or Bárány chair, named for Hungarian physiologist Robert Bárány, is a device used for aerospace physiology training, particularly for student pilots.

Via Wikipedia

Here’s what the unit looks like:

The chair is motorized, with a wireless control to operate it:

The control allows the operator to adjust the rate and direction of rotation. The chair had stopped spinning, and the manufacturer was unresponsive and/or unwilling to repair the unit. It was clear from dead-end google searches that this unit is from a very limited run of a very niche product – there wasn’t an operator’s manual or service diagram to be found. Note the use of 3D printing for the remote control enclosure. If I had to guess, this probably came out of an R&D lab.

Upon arriving, the remote complained that it had no power to the base unit (“Dashes” observed). The only troubleshooting info available was listed on the side of the controller:

A quick investigation revealed that the power supply was plugged into a switched outlet, which had been turned off. Moving to a regular outlet caused the power supply to come online, and the controller sprang to life! No error code – just “00” on the two-digit readout. The chair was still not responding to the rotation settings – but when I manually spun the chair, it displayed the sensed rotation speed on its LED display. I concluded that the logic power supply and wireless communications were working. At this point, I suspected that the problem was in the motor, motor power supply, or the motor controller.

I investigated the power supply for the motor and found it to be outputting a steady 5V – which seemed unusual for a giant motorized chair. I would expect 12V or 24V for a large DC motor. I entertained the idea of adjusting the power supply to a higher voltage – could the power supply have degraded in its ten years of operation? The motor controller datasheet suggested that 6V was the minimum supply voltage, after all. Luckily I noticed that the motor controller had been modified for this application: it passes the motor power directly to the control logic. You can see a jumper wire that bypasses the 5V regulator in the image below. I expect that the 6V minimum is to accommodate the voltage drop incurred by the 5V regulator. Note, modifying off-the-shelf parts for out-of-spec operation is not a design technique that I recommend.

With this knowledge, I was reasonably confident that the entire system was designed to run at 5V, unintuitive as it may be. Good thing I didn’t adjust the power supply! I attached my scope to the control signal from the control logic to the motor controller to see what signs of life existed.

The control signal pictured above appeared to be a servo-style control signal – a carefully timed pulse controls the motor’s speed and direction. When I adjusted the speed control on the wireless remote, this control signal was unchanging. This suggested to me that the wireless receiver, control logic, and motor controller were likely all working – but receiving a “don’t spin” input signal. I turned my attention to the remote control:

And there it is – the rotary encoder for the speed control knob was split in two! One half was bolted to the plastic housing, but disconnected from the rest of the encoder. It still had an actuating “click” feel, without being electrically connected.

With the remote still disassembled, I pushed the rotary encoder back together to make a temporary connection – and the chair started spinning. If I had to guess, someone was a little too rough with this remote.

The replacement parts are ordered – with some careful soldering, I expect a successful repair and many dizzy pilots.

Tube amp repair

A few years ago I picked up this little gem of an amp at a gun show for a paltry 25 bucks.  Not a bad snag!


It worked great, except the volume knob didn’t seem to do much… it always sounded like it was on full blast.  So, I brought it down to Skullspace to tinker with it.

Aside from the potentiometer not really changing the volume, it was also quite scratchy when changing volumes.  This is usually a sign of a worn-out potentiometer, so I ripped out the old one and temporary wired up a replacement off ebay.

Doing a test run with alligator clips

I carefully tested the amplifier (you really dont want to touch the high-voltage tube supply wires in there when it’s powered…) and it sounded way better than before!  I deemed it a success and installed the new potentiometer, still with test connections:

Dry fit before everything gets soldered

Everything seemed to work alright, so I soldered everything in place:

hand-wired goodness

The only issue I faced was that the old wires did not really wick up the solder so well.  I suspect there are some poor connections because of this, but for now it works… maybe some proper flux paste would work better than rosin-core solder?


Stay tuned for an audio clip!

Don’t try this at home

My little Samsung netbook’s power supply died, so I thought I would see if it was an easy fix. Turns out the components are too tightly packed and coated with silicone adhesive-y stuff to easily find what is broken, but I did manage to shoot a video of a 150VDC capacitor discharge:

And that’s why you shouldn’t tinker with power supplies!