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Peter Cochrane's Hard Drive 1999 Laptop showers: don't try at home ON a plane over the Atlantic, all the main cabin lights were out and most of the passengers were dozing, or watching a movie. For me, this was an ideal time for working, peace and quiet, a comfortable seat, and an endless supply of coffee. On this trip, I had decided to devote my time to thinking and writing about quantum computing. Strangely, coffee is often considered as an example medium for future quantum computers. In principle, it provides a soup of readily accessible atoms and molecules that can be orientated by bursts of radio and light energy to provide bit storage and processing. Deep in thought, I reached out for my cup of coffee; that was when disaster struck. In the darkness, the cup collided with the unseen video screen and upturned into my laptop keyboard. Panic followed; save, power down, eject batteries, clean with tissues. I unclipped and removed the keyboard to find coffee gathered in threatening bubbles on a bulkhead; it was quickly removed. I rushed down to the toilet and used the air blower to clean out any remaining moisture. Returning to my seat, I reassembled the machine, and rebooted. All looked good and the mouse functioned 100 per cent. Applications opened and multimedia files were OK, but the keyboard was dead; no typing possible. Power down, back to the toilet with the keyboard, shake and blow-clean. Re-assemble, try to reboot. This time total disaster - not a flicker of life. In three days, I was to address an international conference, and I would be away from my office for two more weeks. I would be dead in the water without my laptop. For the rest of the flight, I did nothing other than pray that the coffee would evaporate. When I arrived at my hotel, I tried again, but still no sign of life. I decided to remove the keyboard, and the machine rebooted. Clearly there was some damage to the keyboard resulting from the coffee spillage. What I did next I would not recommend to anyone. In the shower, I decided that any solidified coffee could be removed only with hot water. So my keyboard had a hot shower too. This was followed by a good blast of hot air from a hair-dryer. With bated breath, I reinstalled the keyboard and hit the power key. The machine rebooted, the mouse worked, and so did my applications, but the keyboard was only 40 per cent functional. After several further attempts at repair, I gave up. I rang my office and arranged for an auto-reply to explain to anyone mailing me that I was in trouble, was trying to fix the problem, and would be back online asap. I then telephoned all the people who were expecting responses from me and left voice messages. Finally, I used a fax machine to get hard copy to the rest. But my long-term prospect was dire. The local computer store confirmed my fears that there was no way of getting a replacement keyboard in less than a week. However, it did have a range of conventional keyboards starting at $32, one of which I quickly purchased. An hour later, I was back online clearing my email and preparing my conference presentation for the next day. While the future of quantum computing may involve coffee, I can confirm that today's keyboards and coffee definitely do not mix. Peter Cochrane holds the Collier Chair for the Public Understanding of Science & Technology at the University of Bristol. His home page is: |
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