The Darwin Awards 6: Countdown to Extinction

by Wendy Northcutt

  Darwin says, “Considered semi-confirmed because the media source is a website, ‘Only in Russia,’ about the strange things Russians do. A web search found no other sources. Additional confirmation is sought.”

  A metal hook had been hammered into the WWII device.

  Reference: englishrussia.com

  Merits Discussion: Killer Fuel Economy

  Confirmed—But Is It a Darwin Award?

  Featuring explosions, cars, and do-it-yourself innovation

  7 NOVEMBER 2008, MALAYSIA | In the town of Batu Berendam, in the state of Malacca, Mohd H. was killed by an explosion at a petrol station while filling his van’s tank with compressed natural gas. What made the normally routine process of fueling a vehicle go so badly wrong?

  The answer begins with another kind of fuel: cooking gas.

  In most Malaysian households, liquid petroleum gas (LPG) is purchased in tanks for use in the kitchen, instead of being drawn from a pipeline to the house as is common in America. The problem was that the man had converted his van to use cleaner-burning compressed natural gas (CNG) by hooking up an LPG cooking gas tank, rather than having the vehicle properly converted.

  LPG tanks and CNG tanks are very different. LPG is a liquid while CNG is a compressed gas. CNG tanks must be able to contain one hundred times more pressure than LPG tanks.

  Mohd’s desire to economize on fuel was driven by practical reasons. The self-employed electrician ran a family business involving the repair and resale of secondhand electrical appliances. This business required frequent travels to Singapore and Johor, and much would be saved by converting the van to use a more economical fuel. Since twenty-five-year-old Mohd was knowledgeable about machinery, he decided to do it himself.

  Somehow, the electrician managed to drain the fuel, remove the old tank, and weld a new tank into place without incident. No doubt pleased by his handiwork, he filled the tank with gas and turned the key. . . .

  The LPG tank had been installed beneath the driver’s seat, and the ignition system triggered an explosion that shattered the front portion of the vehicle and blew out two of its doors, killing the unwitting creator of the car bomb.

  Reference: The Malaysian Insider

  DARWIN SAYS, MERITS DEBATED!

  We are divided about whether to give this man a Darwin Award. Local news reports indicate that inept do-it-yourself vehicle conversions are a national problem fueled by a lack of knowledge about combustion differences between CNG and LPG. On the other hand, this skilled electrician was handy with tools and knowledgeable about machines. Was he the engineer of his own demise, or simply a victim of circumstance?

  An ancillary question is, how did he manage to drive the vehicle to the petrol station?

  At-Risk Survivor: Mortar Fire

  Unconfirmed Personal Account

  Featuring acetylene gas and a can of Coke

  2009 | This moment of blissfully pure and unadulterated stupidity happened while I was managing a successful franchise exhaust shop a few years back. I had won a contract to build custom exhausts on a series of hot rods. Due to the exacting workmanship required, I did these jobs after hours when I wasn’t distracted by customers and staff.

  Tired and a bit bored one evening, I took a break, swigged some soda, and set the Coke can down on the pipe rack. It fell neatly into a length of exhaust pipe. This raised some intriguing possibilities. I wondered if a small acetylene explosion would launch a can from the pipe. As it happened, an acetylene set was ready to hand, and I proceeded unimpeded with my experiment.

  I welded a plate over one end of the tube, and bored a small hole in the side, just above the plate. I dropped an empty can down the pipe and introduced some acetylene and oxygen though the hole. Test #1 went well. My trusty Zippo ignited the gas and there was a loud pop—but the can launched a measly ten feet in the air.

  I proceeded unimpeded with my experiment.

  Being a perfectionist, I knew I could do better. The empty can was slightly smaller than the three-inch pipe, and much could be gained by wrapping the can to fit the pipe. Test #2 was better. The pop was louder, and the can launched upward with enough force to dent the tin roof of the building.

  At this point I realized that I could do some damage, so I moved my enterprise out back behind the shop before proceeding with Test #3. I carefully wrapped a full Coke can with a rag, oiled to reduce friction. I rammed it hard down the pipe, but could only get it down about one foot. I aimed the tube straight up (to maximize altitude) and filled the three remaining feet with oxygen and acetylene. I must confess that I experienced a brief flash of doubt, but I overcame it, knelt down a careful eighteen inches from the pipe, and lit the mortar.

  I experienced a brief flash of doubt, but overcame it.

  The result was considerably more violent than the prior launches.

  An extremely loud explosion and a searing flash of heat knocked me over. I caught a brief glimpse of a burning projectile disappearing at high velocity into the night sky. The recoil of the launch had driven the tube a foot into the ground, and the open end of the pipe sported a distinct bell shape. Luckily the pipe had held, and had not blown up in my face. Stunned, I staggered back into the shop and knocked over a six-foot length of exhaust pipe. Instead of the usual crash, I heard nothing but a high-pitched buzzing.

  Break time was over! I carried on working.

  Half an hour later I was surprised by two cops tapping me on the shoulder. They were a wee bit agitated, as they had been addressing me for a while and thought I was ignoring them. After much shouting and several written messages, it became apparent that they were investigating a loud explosion heard behind the twenty-thousand-liter propane tank at the gas station next door. The tank was ten feet away from my test site, behind a wooden fence!

  The gas station had, of course, been evacuated. Due to my impaired hearing, I had failed to notice the four fire engines outside and was blissfully unaware of the mayhem going on next door. Naturally enough, I denied any knowledge, but my burned and deaf state didn’t help my case. Then a curious cop followed the oxy-acetylene hoses outside . . .

  The burning projectile disappeared into the night sky.

  The incident cost me a severe telling-off by the cops and permanent hearing issues, but I count myself lucky. I must confess, though, sometimes I sit back and wonder . . . What was I thinking?

  And where did that Coke can end up?

  Reference: Anonymous

  Reader Comments

  “Admit it, the thought would cross your mind, too.”

  “Still working on that spud gun. Just upping the ante . . .”

  “Remember acetylene + oxygen in balloons?”

  At-Risk Survivor: A Cushioned Blow

  Confirmed by Darwin

  Featuring aerosol, an explosion, and cigarettes

  CIGARETTES

  Smoking destroys more than lung cells . . . if you try hard enough. Darwin’s archive includes dozens of mishaps, from solo smokers wrapped in gauze (a mummy costume; a medical treatment) to military groups smoking near munitions (in the Philippines; in the Ukraine), from shooting yourself with butts to falling from a bus while sneaking a fag, there are too many ways cigarettes can hurt you. Please do whatever it takes to give up this dangerous habit.

  13 OCTOBER 2008, GERMANY One evening, a forty-two-year-old man fixed his punctured air mattress with a tire repair spray that, like all solvent-based aerosols, is flammable. Furthermore, he repaired the puncture while keeping the windows in his loft apartment tightly closed. The next morning, this airhead lit a smoke just before he opened the valve to deflate the air mattress. The resulting explosion wrecked most of the furnishings, part of the roof, and blew a window from the wall. The damage was so severe that a structural engineer condemned the flat! Narrowly missing a full-blown Darwin Award, our hero was taken to a burn-care unit and managed to recover from the brutal “attack” by his mattress.

  Reference: presseportal.de

  Another unsatisfact
ory mattress is featured in Wetting the Bed, p. 101.

  At-Risk Survivor: Homemade Howitzer

  Confirmed by Reliable Eyewitness

  Featuring a homemade holiday cannon!

  An eyebrow-raising story from an emergency room doctor

  5 JULY 2006, OHIO | I was the lucky orthopedics resident on call the night of July 4th. Midnight passed quietly but as dawn broke the next morning, the telephone rang. A fellow was in the trauma unit suffering partial amputation of a finger due to an explosion. I figured that this was a typical firecracker injury and headed over to attend the patient.

  I found a gentleman peppered with thousands of black spots—gunpowder embedded in his face, chest, and arms. His left middle finger was essentially missing, and the space between his right thumb and index finger split wide open. His airway was intubated and he also had a chest tube—far more intervention than would be required for a routine firecracker injury.

  The man’s wife told me what had happened in plain words.

  Hubby had built a small cannon in order to celebrate Independence Day. He and his lady both had been drinking heavily throughout the evening. When they regained consciousness the next morning, the gentleman figured he might as well finish off the unused gunpowder. He packed his homemade howitzer, using a cutoff broomstick.

  While packing the cannon he was also sucking on a cigarette. Lo and behold, the ash fell and ignited the powder. The broomstick fired into his chest, ripping through his hands en route as hot gunpowder sprayed out of the cannon.

  We took him to the operating room to clean his wounds and complete the amputation. As we removed the stub of his finger, I confided my grave concerns about his future to the attending physician. He looked at me, puzzled. I asked, “How is this man going to be able to drive without his left middle finger?”

  Reference: Erika Mitchell, MD

  Another finger injured in It’s The Cure That’ll Kill You, p. 205.

  At-Risk Survivor: Nitrating the Unknown

  Confirmed by Reliable Eyewitness

  Featuring school, a hammer, and explosions

  1970s | Thirty years ago, my college installed new granite tables in the chemistry lab, and somehow a bet got started on who could scratch the tabletop first. The bet went uncollected for a couple of years: Those granite surfaces were pretty sturdy. Then along came my friend, “Mass Destruction.”

  Armed with an explosive blasting cap and a ball-peen hammer, he was determined to win that bet. Placing the cap on a table, he swung the hammer and hit it squarely. The hammer exited the lab at a high rate of speed over his shoulder. By some fluke, nobody was injured. Mass Destruction did win the bet—the granite was cracked through!

  Here is the explanation of how his nickname came about. Earlier that year he had been analyzing an organic sample when the professor came by and casually asked where he was in the procedure.

  “I’m nitrating the unknown.”

  “You didn’t get a reaction at the last step?”

  “Nope.”

  It turned out that the professor had added too much denaturing agent to the unknown (glycerin) so it was not identified at the proper stage. Mass Destruction was now casually stirring 250 ml of nitroglycerin on an ice bath! The professor encouraged him to keep stirring—gently—while he evacuated the other students and called the bomb squad.

  After the bomb squad had made all the needed arrangements to dispose of the nitroglycerin, they graciously allowed Mass Destruction to push the button on the detonator.

  Reference: Anonymous

  Darwin wishes to point out that the Nitroglycerine Situation was not the fault of the students, who was working with an “unknown” and trusting teacher.

  MICROWAVE SCIENCE

  • Take two candy Peeps, arm them with jousting toothpicks and pit them against each other in the microwave.

  • Zap a CD on low power to watch the pretty fractal crackle.

  • Nuke grape halves to generate balls of plasma.

  Home science that is safer than it sounds.

  At-Risk Survivor: Against the Odds

  Confirmed by Darwin

  Featuring an explosive and a vehicle

  26 NOVEMBER 2009, DARWIN, AUSTRALIA | Perhaps you wouldn’t think twice about bringing a pen or pad of paper home from the office, but an explosive? For six months, a Darwin resident had stored this pilfered “office supply” in his home. Ever since the device had been brought home from work, it had just sat there doing nothing. It seemed so uneventful that the twenty-nine-year-old man admitted to police that he had driven over it three times in his motor vehicle, to see what would happen.

  Against the odds, nothing!

  Bored, he finally contacted Northern Territory police to have the explosive removed from his possession. The officers confirmed that the device was, indeed, a badly crumpled detonator. “It goes without saying,” Superintendent J. Emeny contradicted himself, “that any kind of explosive device has the potential to cause serious injury and should be left alone.” He added that the man’s decision to drive over the device was “risky.”

  Reference: abc.net.au

  At-Risk Survivor: Caps’n’Hammer Kids

  Unconfirmed Personal Account

  Featuring a hammer, a roll of caps, and a misbehavin’ kid

  SUMMER 1969 | For the youngsters in the audience, caps are tiny explosive charges sold for use in toy guns. Squeeze the trigger and a striker hits the cap, making it explode with a pop.

  I had a pack of caps that were individually “printed” on adhesive-backed paper. Having experimented with using a hammer to detonate them, in true dumb-kid fashion I moved on to supersize it. I stacked the caps an inch and a half high, knelt down on the sidewalk, and hit the stack with a two-pound ball-peen hammer.

  The resulting explosion kicked the hammer back clear to my shoulder, missing my fragile young face by inches. No harm except for a bruise on the shoulder and ringing ears, but an alarming near-miss nonetheless.

  Sometimes I wonder how any human male survives childhood.

  Reference: Anonymous

  In a related story . . .

  At-Risk Survivor: Pulling the Pin

  1967, PENNSYLVANIA | I was nine years old. Fireworks were illegal in our state, but you could buy rolls of caps. A “friend” showed me how to make a decent firecracker out of them. Take a straight pin and load the caps onto it by pushing the point through the center of each powder-loaded circle, folding the paper accordion-style. Fill the pin about half full, then pull the caps off while keeping them as tight together as you can. Wrap the wad in a tissue, twist one end to make a wick, and light the wick for a nice little bang from your homemade firecracker.

  Kids all know that bigger is better.

  Kids all know that bigger is better. I figured I would use a large pin to make a large firecracker. There was a hatpin in Mom’s sewing box and I started loading that colossal pin with a roll of caps. There is no telling how long I worked on that firecracker. I probably had two inches of caps stacked up by the time I was ready to pull them off and wrap the wad in tissue.

  I gave the wad a tug, but it wasn’t sliding off the pin. I tried harder, still no luck. The head of the pin didn’t give me much to hold on to, so I put the pin between my teeth and gave a big tug . . .

  That stack of caps exploded with the sound of a shotgun shell. I was standing there with black powder all over my face when my folks and brothers ran into the room. Although my ears were ringing and my lips were tingling, I was required to explain what I had done. Once they stopped laughing, my folks checked to be sure all my parts were still intact.

  Fortunately they were!

  Reference: Ross Pavlik

  At-Risk Survivor: The Mettle of the Kettle

  Unconfirmed Personal Account

  Featuring explosions and food

  The Terrible Teakettle Incident—first time on public view!

  Sunday morning I went to the kitchen to make tea, put the kettle on, prepared the cup
s, and while waiting for the kettle to boil I thought I’d fill my lighter. I got the lighter fuel out, but it was a bit low and quite cold, and it didn’t pour well. When this happens, I usually run hot tap water over the can to warm it, but as I already had hot water in the kettle, I decided to steam it for a minute or two.

  You can see where this is going, can’t you? Wish I had! But I had not yet had my tea, so . . .

  I balanced the can on top of the kettle, leaving the kettle lid open. Then I got distracted and the next thing I heard was the sound of the kettle boiling furiously. I turned around just in time to see the fuel container disappear into the mouth of the kettle.

  I thought, Oh dear me! (or words to that effect) and rushed over to switch off the kettle. I pressed the switch and the gas can let go with a mighty BANG! The kettle was instantly transformed into bright yellow, lethal plastic shrapnel.