PPS For All: Directly charging lithium-ion batteries with a USB-C PD tester

TL;DR – USB-C with PPS (Programmable Power Supply) technology is here, it’s cool, and now it’s usable on more than just the newest smartphones – it works on almost any Li-ion battery with the right USB-C tester. Check out the GitHub repo – it’s open-source!

As seen on Hackaday!

DISCLAIMER: Lithium-ion batteries can be dangerous if mishandled or abused! While much testing and development has resulted in a fairly stable implementation, this application is still an “off-label” use of a USB PD charger and USB-C tester, and therefore there is a risk of property damage, personal injury, or other unforeseen consequences if something goes wrong (and I will NOT be held responsible for that!).

Introduction

The USB PD (Power Delivery) standard has revolutionized how we charge our everyday electronic devices. While many new devices (such as smartphones) emphasize “fast charge” capability, it has required changes to both the device itself, as well as the adapters that power them.

Because power losses in the charging cable (or any other resistance) is directly related to the amount of current flowing through it, one can get more power for the same amount of current by increasing the voltage (this is how the AC power transmission lines that you see on the street and countryside work as well). The USB PD standard allows a device to request the adapter to increase its output voltage from 5 volts to a higher level, such as 9, 15, or 20 (and sometimes 12) volts.

An addition in the third version of the USB PD standard added optional PPS (Programmable Power Supply) support for the power adapter, which allows an adapter to output a wide range of voltages, rather than a fixed “menu” of 5, 9, 15, 20 (and sometimes 12) volts.

What is USB-C PPS charging?

PPS charging is a relatively new variation to the existing PD charging scheme. It allows the device being charged to actively communicate with the adapter and request a precise voltage (and current) level, increasing efficiency since DC-DC conversion efficiency drops when the difference in voltage between the input (the adapter) and output (the battery) is larger. With this bidirectional communication, it allows the adapter to share some of the regulation workload, and therefore move some of the heat-generating power conversion to the adapter, allowing the device’s battery to charge at a cooler temperature which improves its lifespan.

Direct Battery Charging

One step past normal PPS charging is direct charging, which completely offloads the power management to the adapter; the host device controls the charge process purely via software commands to the adapter. This is analogous to the DC fast charging method used in electric vehicles (EVs), which also perform all power regulation outside of the vehicle and its internal charge circuitry. Because the device no longer needs to perform its own DC-DC conversion, this skips a step in the power conversion “chain”, increasing efficiency and reducing the amount of heat dissipated in the host device (you can’t lose power on a conversion step if you never perform that step in the first place!). With this reduction in internally-generated heat, the battery can be charged at even faster rates than it could with previous charging schemes.

One barrier to the widespread adoption of direct charging is that it requires the device to explicitly support it, as it requires significant changes to how the “power path” is designed internally. It also requires the adapter to support the voltage and current levels required by the host.

Diagrams comparing normal versus direct charging schemes.

Diagrams comparing normal versus direct charging schemes. (click here for full-size image)

Thankfully, on the adapter side, PPS support is becoming more and more common, even though most devices on the market (at least at the time of writing) don’t support it. However, because that potential is already present, perhaps there’s a way for the electronics hobbyist to take advantage of direct charging for their own batteries…

Shizuku Platform and its Lua API

The Shizuku USB multimeter by YK-Lab, which is available in a few rebadged forms under names like YK-Lab YK001, AVHzY CT-3, Power-Z KT002, or ATORCH UT18, is a very useful USB charger testing device. It features USB-A and USB-C ports; can measure voltage, current, power; can calculate passed charge (mAh) and energy (mWh) in real time; but unlike most USB testers on the market, it is user-programmable in Lua, a lightweight programming/scripting language.

The Lua API on the tester provides a large amount of extensibility beyond the original tester’s design, and in my case I’m using its ability to “trigger” non-standard voltages from fast-charge capable power adapters as well as its colour LCD screen to act as a highly flexible direct charger – an intermediate between a USB-C PD PPS adapter and an arbitrary (Li-ion) rechargeable battery.

Introducing: DingoCharge!

The idea behind making a battery charging script came about when I looked at using bench-top adjustable power supplies to charge batteries. Since the Shizuku tester (in my case, it was the AVHzy CT-3 variant) allows me to use the PPS protocol to finely adjust the adapter’s output voltage, I tried manually varying the voltage to increase or decrease the current flowing into a battery – and it worked!

That said, constantly checking the battery’s current and voltage levels just to charge a battery gets pretty tiring, and since the Shizuku is Lua-programmable… why not make a script that automates all of this for me? Thus began a programming journey that’s been ongoing for over a year, and I’ve still got ideas to add even more functionality (as long as I don’t crash the tester by running out of memory… don’t ask me how I know).

Charge Regulation Algorithm

All lithium-ion batteries (including less-common ones like lithium-iron phosphate (LiFePO4) and lithium titanate) use what’s known as CC-CV charging; this stands for constant-voltage/constant-current. A fixed amount of current is fed into the battery until its voltage reaches a certain threshold, then the voltage is held at a fixed value until the current going into the battery drops below another, lower, threshold. Once this is reached, the current is turned off entirely and the charge process is complete.

Although the PPS specification allows a device to set a maximum current level, my own testing revealed that there was too much variation amongst all my different adapters that I could not rely on the hardware to perform the constant-current regulation with enough precision for my liking, and the voltage drop across the USB-C cable resulted in the battery’s charge current tapering off too early as the voltage at the adapter reached its programmed constant-voltage level before the battery’s own voltage had a chance to do so as well. Instead, my charge algorithm increases the requested USB PD charge voltage above the battery’s own voltage until the desired current level is within a certain deadband range.

Once the target constant-voltage level is reached, the charge algorithm switches to constant-voltage regulation, maintaining a preset voltage until the current being drawn by the battery falls below the termination threshold.

If a battery was previously overdischarged, it requires a slower “precharge” current to bring the battery’s voltage up to a level that is safe for its regular charge current.

Charge Safety Tests

Over time, I added more safety checks to ensure that the battery’s state was maintained within a safe margin for voltage, current, temperature, and also time. If a safety violation was detected during charging, the charging algorithm would automatically set its charge current to zero, effectively terminating the charge process. Additionally, if the charge process was finished but a small current flowing into the battery resulted in the battery’s voltage getting too high, the PD request voltage gets adjusted downwards to prevent an overvoltage condition from occurring.

Downstream Resistance Compensation

I also added the ability to compensate for high-resistance connections to the battery. This works by using Ohm’s Law (voltage = current * resistance) to boost the voltage thresholds in proportion to the amount of current flowing into the battery, as determined by a configured downstream (tester-to-battery) resistance. This is usually considered an advanced feature for a charging system, but since all of the charging is handled in software, it is relatively trivial to allow for compensating for lossy cabling and connectors.

Charging Test

As a real-world demonstration of the DingoCharge software, I created a test setup that charged a 600mAh/7.4V nominal battery pack (a rechargeable 9V alternative that’s built from disposable vape batteries – stay tuned for that blog post!) at a 1C (600mA) rate at 8.4V (4.2V per cell) until the current tapered off to C/10 (30mA); note that the pack I was charging was built with high-drain cells that can handle higher currents than normal, and most commercial cells are best charged at a C/5 to C/2 rate. I used a Samsung EP-TA800 USB-C adapter, capable of a maximum of 25W at full power (11V at 2.25A).

Demonstration of DingoCharge charging a 9V Li-ion replacement, using a Samsung 25W USB-C PD adapter.

Demonstration of DingoCharge charging a 9V Li-ion replacement, using a Samsung 25W USB-C PD adapter. (click here for full-size image)

Block diagram describing the DingoCharge hardware setup.

Block diagram describing the DingoCharge hardware setup. All power conversion (and associated power conversion losses) occur only in the power source, with the tester simply issuing commands to control the power going into the battery. (click here for full-size image)

Voltage/current plot of DingoCharge charging a battery at 600mA and 8.4 volts, using a Samsung EP-TA800 USB-C PD adapter.

Voltage/current plot of DingoCharge charging a battery at 600mA and 8.4 volts, using a Samsung EP-TA800 USB-C PD adapter. (click here for full-size image)

The classic CC-CV charge profile is visible when the charging current and voltage is graphed over time. The stepped nature of the current is a consequence of the PPS voltage being limited to 20mV granularity, causing jumps in current draw as each step occurs. The voltage is increased or decreased when the current or voltage being sent to the battery falls out of a certain range (in this case, 600mA and a +/-25mA deadband during constant-current charging, and 8.4V +/- 10mV during constant-voltage charging).

One contribution to the relative flatness of the constant-voltage phase is that the charging algorithm is essentially performing four-wire (also known as Kelvin) sensing from the adapter to the tester, inherently compensating for voltage drop across the USB-C cable. This is also why the current flutters a bit as it tapers off, as the voltage at the battery begins to rise above the deadband, resulting in a small amount of oscillation as the algorithm tries to maintain 4.2 +/- 0.01 volts.

Limitations

Nothing in this world is perfect, and neither is my charger implementation. In fact, trying to shoehorn a battery charger into what’s effectively a multimeter and a “wall wart” required a lot of compromises to be made.

No Power Switching

Charge termination is a bit tricky, as most implementations will just electrically disconnect the battery. However, with the tester, there is no power switching available that can be controlled through software. This is mitigated by setting the constant-current algorithm to 0 amps +/- 10 milliamps, resulting in minimal charge/discharge current as the battery voltage drops while it relaxes from a fully-charged state.

One Name, Many Variations

Another limitation is that the PPS protocol allows adapters to not necessarily support the full voltage range of 3.3 to 21 volts. Instead, there are options to support up to 5.9, 11, 16, and/or 21 volts, and at current level up to 5 amps. The large disparity of supported voltages and currents means that the DingoCharge script needs to check the programmed charge parameters against what the adapter supports; many PPS adapters only support up to 11 volts, so 3S (3 cells in series) and higher cell configurations will not work (and an error message will be displayed if that is the case).

My (Electro)chemical Romance Recharge

I designed DingoCharge only for use with lithium-ion type battery chemistries, but have been experimenting with charging other rechargeable batteries, such as lead-acid and nickel-metal hydride/Ni-MH. There has been promising results with both chemistries, but each one is not fully supported as I have not implemented proper 3-stage charging for lead-acid batteries; Ni-MH charging only works by using a low current (C/10 typical) for a fixed period of time via DingoCharge’s time limit feature, or an external temperature sensor alongside the overtemperature protection feature to stop the charge process (a very crude delta-T/change-in-temperature algorithm). Thankfully, the software-based approach of DingoCharge means I can add this functionality in an official capacity with further research and development work… as long as I get around to it 😛 .

Lua Lunacy?

Additionally, this was my first real foray into Lua programming, so I’m pretty certain I’ve made some poor stylistic and other programming choices along the way. For all I know, it could have inherited some significant syntactic defects from my other programming (language) attempts that make it an “awful” program – but hey, it’s an open-source project so if you have some pointers, feel free to help contribute on GitHub (link is in the Downloads section below)!

Conclusion

The USB PD protocol, and its adjustable PPS functionality that was introduced in the PD 3.0 specification, provides a lot of potential use for directly charging batteries since it skips the usual conversion step in a device. However, this type of charging technology was largely untapped by many devices, with only a few smartphones (as of the time of writing) supporting it.

The scriptability of some USB-C testers like the AVHzY CT-3 or Power-Z KT002 allows for a script to handle all of the intricacies of battery charging, while providing an easy-to-use yet highly flexible interface. Thanks to the DingoCharge script, any USB PD PPS adapter and supported USB tester can be used as a universal battery charger.

Downloads

The DingoCharge script can be found on my GitHub profile (https://github.com/ginbot86/DingoCharge-Shizuku), and is open-source under the MIT License. If you have a suitable USB PD PPS adapter and USB-C tester, I’d love to hear if/how well DingoCharge works for your batteries!

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Quick Hack: Converting a computer fan from thermostatic to PWM control

As seen on Hackaday!

About a week ago I needed to replace the CPU fan in my home server as it was running slower than it used to. The Cooler Master Vortex Plus that I chose for my home server uses a standard 92mm fan, and uses the 4-pin connector standard to provide tachometer (speed) readout and PWM speed control.

The Vortex Plus fan’s sleeve bearing was proving to be the weak point of the cooler, and after many, many years of continuous operation, the bearings had lost lubrication and worn themselves down. I had another 92mm fan in my scrap bin, the Nidec TA350DC, but this would prove to be a challenge to adapt it for use in a normal computer system. This fan came from an old Dell Optiplex desktop and used a proprietary 3-pin connector (therefore there was no PWM control), and it was thermostatically-controlled. The fan used a 10kOhm NTC thermistor to measure the airflow temperature, and would increase its speed as the temperature increased (and therefore the thermistor’s resistance decreased). This would prove to be a challenge with implementing that fan as a CPU cooler, as the motherboard uses a PWM (pulse-width modulation) signal to control the fan speed. My proposed solution was to take advantage of the low-current thermostatic control circuitry and effectively override the fan’s own autonomous control system, as opposed to forcing the fan to run at full speed and using high-current MOSFETs to PWM the fan’s power supply, as I felt that doing so could disrupt the fan’s tachometer signal to the motherboard.

PWM Mod Circuit

I used the existing thermostatic control circuit to my advantage, since the thermistor forms the low side of a voltage divider. All I needed to do was use an N-channel MOSFET (specifically, the 2N7002) to short the thermistor pins when the FET’s gate terminal is pulled high, and I swapped the thermistor with a plain 10 kOhm resistor to effectively disable the fan’s autonomous control. I presumed the tachometer signal should be compatible with existing motherboards, and therefore not require any modifications.

As per the PWM fan control specifications, the speed control signal is a 5-volt digital signal, with a frequency of approximately 25 kHz and a variable duty cycle of 30-100%, and is a non-inverting signal. This is especially convenient as this means I don’t need to invert the logic signal before feeding it to the N-channel MOSFET controlling the thermistor input circuit. I did need to protect the gate from ESD (electrostatic discharge) damage, as the gate can only handle 20-30 volts before the gate’s microscopically thin insulation breaks down, rendering it useless. I used a BZX84 5.1-volt Zener diode to act as ESD and overvoltage protection. In the end, my assembled circuit board was actually slightly shorter than the thermistor it replaced!

Conclusion

After all this, I had a fan that would accept a PWM control signal and had at least some control over its fan speed. However, I later realized that the tachometer signal was not working, causing my motherboard to report that the fan had failed. At this point I didn’t really want to come up with another circuit (perhaps a Hall effect sensor) to sense the fan’s speed, so I simply took the easy way out and just disabled the warning in Intel Desktop Utilities 🙂 . I might revisit this mod sometime in the future if I need to do this again.

 

 

Atomic Pi Adventures, Episode 1: Adding external PCI Express expansion by removing onboard Ethernet

As seen on Hackaday!

TL;DR: The Atomic Pi single-board computer CAN be expanded through PCIe. It’s just a massive pain to do so, even if you have steady hands. Let’s just say it’s a long story…

DISCLAIMER: The modification performed in this blog post can, and has, caused permanent hardware damage to my Atomic Pi, albeit repairable with much skill and effort. Reenacting what I’ve done requires significant experience with SMT (surface-mount technology) components, some barely larger than a grain of sand (I consider 0402-size components to be “oversize” in this instance). I accept no responsibility for damages arising from attempting this modification.

Introduction

Single-board computers (SBCs) are all the rage nowadays, with the Raspberry Pi being the most well-known in this category. SBCs are compact computers, carrying their own CPU and memory, and usually some on-board storage and various I/O connections (e.g. USB, HDMI, Ethernet). Most of these computers use the ARM architecture, found on almost all mobile devices today. However, some use the x86 architecture, which is used in higher-end tablets, laptops and desktop computers.

Recently, the Atomic Pi made waves in the electronics hobbyist space, boasting an Intel Atom Z8350 quad-core CPU with 2 GB of RAM, 16GB of eMMC storage, Gigabit Ethernet, Wi-Fi, USB 3.0, built-in speaker amplifiers, and lots of general-purpose I/O (GPIO) pins – all for less than $40 USD!

As one might expect, there were caveats to this little computer, with some dismissing it very harshly, if not unfairly. With some investigative work, members of the community found out that the “Atomic Pi” board actually belonged to the Kuri robot from Mayfield Robotics; the company shut down in late 2018, and the liquidated stock of these SBCs were snatched up by Digital Loggers with the help of a Kickstarter campaign, who then developed breakout boards to make using them easier. This is because – unlike almost every other SBC – you can’t just plug in a barrel jack or USB cord to power it! Instead, it uses a 2×13 pin header, which many users did not have on hand, nor had the skill and/or resources to build their own solution. This is compounded by the board’s need for clean, well-regulated 5 volts at 2-4 amps, with 12 volts being optional to power the onboard speaker amplifier. The 16 gigabytes of eMMC storage proved to be too cramped to run Windows 10 directly, and the Realtek RTL8111G Gigabit Ethernet chipset is often frowned upon by those in the pfSense (a free firewall/router OS) community.

The NIC’s usage of the Z8350’s single PCI Express (PCIe) lane is what caught my attention. Unfortunately, the RTL8111G Ethernet chip is soldered to the board, with no easy method to replace it with an external card. A few people have attempted to remove the chip and wire in an external PCIe riser, without success. With my previous experience with fine-pitch electronics work, I figured that this would be a fairly easy modification to make.

It wasn’t. In fact, this was one of the most frustrating electronics projects I’ve done to date – and now you get to come with me in my adventures (and misadventures) in microsoldering on the Atomic Pi (or was it Kuri? The jury seems to be out on the nomenclature).

Optional Reading: PCI Express Signals

PCI Express (or PCIe for short) is a very common high-speed interface for connecting processors or chipsets to all sorts of different peripherals. It uses low-voltage differential signaling to minimize interference, and a single lane of PCIe can carry 250 MB/s for the first generation, all the way up to 2 GB/s for the fourth generation!

A single PCIe lane is made up of three differential pairs: receive, transmit, and a 100 MHz reference clock. Control signals for waking up and resetting peripherals are also provided. Riser cards, often used for cryptocurrency mining, use these five signals to provide the minimum connectivity for any PCIe peripheral. The interface is highly flexible, allowing graphics cards that normally use 16 lanes to run on just one lane. The specifications for PCIe make board design easier, as the differential lines are designed to adapt to different lane configurations; the polarities in a pair (transmit, receive, clock) are polarity independent (all that matters is that you maintain a good differential pair).

PCIe Signal Pinout

Since the Atomic Pi lacks a PCIe slot of any kind, I have provided the diagram indicating which signals go to what points on the board:

Note that the AC coupling capacitors are required for the peripheral Rx (receive) pair, and are optional for the peripheral Tx (transmit) pair.

Attempt 1: “Chipple” Bypass

I started this project with the intent of making my modifications as reversible as possible. Looking at the RTL8111E’s datasheet (a similar model to the 8111G) revealed the presence of an “ISOLATEB” pin; grounding this pin causes the chip to disable itself and release its hold on the PCI Express lines.

This brings us to the first roadblock: the Ethernet chip is soldered to the board, and the components that connect it are known as 0201 (0.002 inches in length, 0.001 inches in width), smaller than a breadcrumb!

After disabling the Ethernet chip, I used my trusty 0.1mm (that’s four-thousandths of an inch!) magnet wire to tap into the PCIe lines, and brought them out to a PCIe riser card, which provided a USB 3.0-type socket for an external connection.

Unfortunately, high-speed signals aren’t just about wiring from one device to the next, and this was no exception. The rat’s nest of wires were no suitable medium for the 5-gigabit signals to traverse (PCIe requires very tight control of electrical trace layouts), and the Atomic Pi was unable to detect the presence of any device on the external PCIe port.

Attempt 2: Thin Twinax Troubles

With the signaling issue in mind, I tried some very thin twinaxial cables from a dead MacBook’s hard drive cable to connect the PCIe lines to my riser card. This cable is very thin, with an outer thickness similar to fishing line. It uses a foil and wire “shield” around the two internal wires to protect it from external interference. I figured that this should help protect the delicate signals from the harsh outside world.

I didn’t have very much of this thin twinax cable on hand (that said, if anyone knows where I can buy this stuff in bulk, please let me know!), so I was limited to very short lengths for each pair. I ran out of twinax after the transmit and receive pairs, and resorted to using two coaxial cables from that same cable bundle.

After fiddling with the super-thin wires and soldering them to the header, I still got nowhere and could not get the Atomic Pi to see an external PCIe card.

Removing my modifications revealed my first blunder: despite placing the chip into a temporarily disabled state, the Ethernet chip was dead! This meant that I could not use the built-in Ethernet port anymore, and the LEDs next to the Ethernet port simply glowed a dull orange instead of their rapid blinking pattern when data is being transmitted over Ethernet. I figured that there was no use keeping the chip on the board, so I used my hot air rework station to remove it, using a generous amount of heat and flux to get the chip removed.

Attempt 3: To Ribbons, You Say?

With the dead Ethernet chip removed, I decided to use another tactic to bring out the PCIe interface. I decided to use a thin ribbon cable (okay, more accurately a “flat flexible cable”) to help decouple any mechanical stresses from moving the external USB 3.0 connector around during testing, and its compact size allowed me to try using the QFN pads to connect my ribbon cable, hopefully minimizing noise that could be picked up, as well as avoiding any “stubs” of wiring within the differential pair that would degrade the signals.

The challenge is that the chip uses a very small pad spacing, and I wanted to avoid soldering directly to the ribbon cable. I managed to salvage a couple connectors from some other devices, and used a cut-up CompactFlash memory card’s PCB to make it easier to solder the connector, as well as provide a base for the connector to sit on.

The connector on the board was affixed onto the Ethernet chip’s footprint with the help of some double-sided foam tape, and magnet wire was used to bond the PCIe signal wires onto the ribbon cable. The ribbon itself used copper foil on one side to help with interference suppression, and provide the signals a “ground plane” to travel across.

Things weren’t quite as elegant on the other end of the cable, however. I still had to contend with a fine-pitch ribbon connector, and a way to connect that to a male USB 3.0 plug to hook it up to the PCIe riser. I had little option except to use the small lengths of twinax from the last attempt, and (perhaps unsurprisingly) it didn’t work.

Attempt 4: Teeny Tiny Twists

The next attempt went to a smaller scale, using a very fine twisted pair I created out of my 40 AWG magnet wire (each wire is as thick as a hair). I then shielded this magnet wire by sandwiching it between pieces of copper tape to act as a ground plane for the signals. I reused a dead USB 3.0 drive to act as the plug for the PCIe riser, and wired it straight to the QFN pads of the original Ethernet chip.

Although the twisted pair would have, in theory, reduced intra-pair skew and some degree of EMI resistance thanks to the copper tape, the homemade twisted pair almost certainly would not have provided a 100-ohm differential impedance that’s required for PCIe signaling. Once again, the attempt to break out PCIe from the Atomic Pi was a failure.

Attempt 5: SASsiness Yields Results…?

Since the central issue with external PCIe connectivity involved the connection between the Atomic Pi board and the riser, I figured I would try a medium that was specifically intended for high-speed differential signals. I bought some thin SATA cables (specifically the 18-inch thin cables on Amazon), which used two pairs of thin SAS cable per SATA connection. The difference between SATA, SAS and PCIe is of little difference here, as the key criteria was a differential pair with 100-ohm impedance and ability to carry high-frequency signals.

Despite being a thin cable (each conductor is only 30 AWG, or 0.25 mm in diameter), these cables were too stiff to directly connect to the AC coupling capacitors without a very high risk of damaging the capacitor and/or the pad it is soldered to. I had to reinforce the cables by soldering them down and hot gluing the cables to the board at multiple points to relieve stress on the connections.

The original 0201-sized AC coupling capacitors were removed, and more reasonably-sized 0402 capacitors were used in their place. Each capacitor was a common 100nF capacitance, and were easy to harvest from some dead laptop motherboards I had on hand. I “flipped” the layout of the capacitors away from the QFN footprint, but this meant that only one side of the capacitor was actually anchored to the board; this made the capacitors very fragile and I often lost the terminations on the capacitors (thankfully they are plentiful in electronic devices like this).

To help minimize stress on the vulnerable capacitors, I used magnet wire as a flexible “bridge” between the capacitor and the SAS cable, and the cables were tied down to solder tab wire that I used as “bus bars” for a strong electrical ground as well as a tie-down point to take away most of the strain of the cable’s flexion. Despite negatively affecting signal integrity, I was able to get a sufficiently stable connection to perform some initial testing, and I succeeded! I was able to connect an Intel 82576-based dual-port network card to my external riser.

However, this didn’t last long. The simple movement of the wires on the board when trying to connect different peripherals was enough to break the AC coupling capacitors, despite the use of my flexible terminations from the SAS cable to the capacitors. Replacing the damaged capacitors and redoing the magnet wire terminations failed to restore connectivity, so I desoldered all of the existing connections and started over.

Attempt 6: We Have Lift-Off! (that’s bad)

In an attempt to further improve signal integrity, I decided to take the bold move of eschewing the flexible terminations of magnet wire, and decided to directly solder the SAS cable’s wires to the capacitors, which are soldered to the PCIe pads on the Atomic Pi. I anticipated that physical stresses would damage the capacitors, so I opted to use longer lengths of SAS cable, and to hot-glue the cable to the board at regular intervals to minimize the amount of stress that gets coupled into the cable and capacitors. The 100 MHz reference clock continued to use magnet wire for connection as it was at a much lower frequency than the PCIe signals, and reduced the amount of physical crowding around the PCIe pads.

This leads me to my next issue. To help with structural integrity, I repositioned one of the SAS cables so that it would remain on the board before going to the PCIe riser connector, meaning it would be perpendicular to the other cables. This required me to strip extra foil shielding to jump over the existing capacitors, which increases the risk of physical stress on the capacitors, as well as reduced signal integrity. Additionally, I used a longer set of twinax cables, sacrificing two SATA cables to get most of the original 18 inches of length per cable.

Testing of this construction method failed, and it was only at this point that I realized that two of the four AC coupling capacitors I used weren’t the same capacitance; PCIe usually uses 100 nF capacitors, but I had a 1 nF on one PCIe pair, and 10 nF on the other – no wonder things weren’t communicating (and that’s what I get for assuming the capacitors were the same)! Unfortunately, the process of removing the SAS cable connections resulted in the phenomenon I was trying to avoid: the board’s PERp0 (the positive side of the PCIe receiver) pad had lifted away from the PCB, leaving me with an unsolderable crater.

Attempt 7: Success!

After losing one of the pads for the original coupling capacitors, I was feeling pretty defeated. I didn’t let this stop me, and I decided to apply my magic skills with 40-gauge magnet wire to the trace, and was able to get a sufficient connection with a replacement 100 nF capacitor (and this time I measured it…), hopefully in such a way as to not too negatively affect signal integrity. Unfortunately, the 0201-sized resistors used to connect the PCIe reset and wake signals lost their terminations and no longer took solder on one end; I opted to keep the resistors in place and soldered magnet wire to the other end (facing the SoC rather than the Ethernet chip), as further measurement revealed that the resistors were simply 0-ohm jumpers anyway. I scrapped the longer SAS cables, and went back to the ~8-inch lengths to reduce attenuation.

After rewiring the PCIe data, clock and control lines, I crossed my fingers and retried the riser with my Intel NIC – and it worked! After verifying the connections were sufficiently strong, I decided to make the modification permanent, and covered the area with epoxy to prevent any of the components from breaking loose. Additionally, I used some aluminum sheet metal, double-sided foam tape and some zip ties to create a reinforcement bar, helping to strengthen the cable connections as they leave the board.

With all the connections in place, it was time to get to the fun part: seeing what PCIe peripherals work on the Atomic Pi!

Testing Results

One interesting behaviour of the Atomic Pi when using Windows is that changing PCIe cards often causes the system to immediately power down or freeze during boot. Simply powering the board on again seems to fix this issue. Why am I using Windows? I already upgraded the board to a 64GB eMMC instead of the original 16GB, and the appeal of the Atomic Pi’s x86 architecture was the ability to run desktop apps – in particular, Windows apps.

The UEFI firmware has a hidden advanced menu, accessible if the “shutdown /r /fw” command is run as administrator. There is a section for PCIe settings, and the ones that interested me were the AER (Advanced Error Reporting) and PCIe hot-plug settings. Unfortunately, these do not seem to have any effect as Windows doesn’t seem to pick up any hardware events in the Event Log.

Test 1: Network Devices

PASS: Intel 82576 Dual-Port Adapter

If the port(s) have a connection to another device (e.g. a network switch), the orange and green LEDs will illuminate soon after the PCIe link is properly initialized, which makes for quicker troubleshooting. Even if the system is off, the green link LED remains lit, but goes out once the PCIe bus is reset.

The card works a treat in pfSense and Windows, allowing high-performance Gigabit-speed transfers with both ports in use. However, the UEFI firmware does not recognize the card as a bootable medium (which is for the best in my opinion – the PXE boot program tends to hinder the boot process more than anything).

PASS: Realtek RTL8111GS (External Card)

The PXE network boot program built into the UEFI firmware works just fine, which is expected as the chip is the same type as the original RTL8111G, with the exception that the chip has a built-in switching converter rather than the linear LDO that the Atomic Pi uses natively.

PASS: JMicron JMC250

The card works in Windows and pfSense; the particular card I have has always been flaky in operation, and this was no exception.

PASS: ASUS PCE-N15 (Realtek RTL8192CE) 802.11n WLAN Adapter

Using this card is a performance downgrade compared to the dual-band adapter already present on the Atomic Pi, but it did function correctly in Windows.

Test 2: External Graphics Cards (eGPU)

PASS: EVGA/nVidia 8500 GT

The UEFI firmware doesn’t seem to want to acknowledge the presence of PCIe graphics adapters, which results in issues when testing in Windows. Initially, the card failed to enumerate correctly, identifying as a Microsoft Basic Display Adapter and displaying an error in Device Manager:

This device is not working properly because Windows cannot load the drivers required for this device. (Code 31)

The driver trying to start is not the same as the driver for the POSTed display adapter.

Manually downloading and installing the drivers allowed the card to work properly. As previously mentioned, the UEFI does not recognize the presence of the graphics card, so a monitor that is plugged into the graphics card won’t start working until Windows is loaded and the graphics driver initializes.

Additionally, the adapter’s resources won’t be used if the monitor is connected to the Atomic Pi’s built-in HDMI port – it’s a tradeoff between graphics performance and the ability to see what’s happening on boot; maybe this is different in a multi-monitor configuration, but I didn’t have enough desk space to test this.

PASS: XFX/AMD Radeon 4650

The same driver issues popped up when using this card as well, and the same fix applies.

PASS: ASUS/nVidia GTX 660 Ti

Ditto. This card was the best I had on hand for testing, and amusingly it consumes about 10-20 times the amount of power that the Atomic Pi uses, and is bigger in size as well.

Connecting this card allowed me to run games that would otherwise simply not work, such as Just Cause 2. It performed at about 20-30 frames per second: not great but not terrible. Just Cause 3 was absolutely painful to run, but this is not surprising as the Atomic Pi’s hardware is far below the game’s minimum requirements in almost all aspects.

Test 3: Storage

PASS: Dell PERC H200 SAS Adapter

To my surprise, not only will it work in Windows, it even supports booting from the UEFI! It mentions a SAS controller driver during boot, but I am not sure as to whether this is present in the Atomic Pi’s UEFI, or if it is a driver provided by the SAS adapter itself. The PCIe 2.0 1x interface limits the maximum throughput to less than 500 MB/s, which is slower than a single SATA III connection, and informal testing showed a maximum speed of about 330 MB/s. I have not investigated whether I could configure the hardware RAID features of the adapter from the operating system, but I imagine that doing so would dramatically improve performance when running a RAID 1 (mirrored) setup.

FAIL: OWC (What’s This?) Aura Pro X 480GB NVMe SSD

This SSD was originally meant as an aftermarket SSD upgrade for a MacBook Air, but I bought a PCIe adapter card to use it in a regular PC. I was able to get it to enumerate in Windows, but any sort of read/write action caused it to lock up and throw errors in the Windows Event Log. I suspect this is likely a power supply issue due to how the PCIe riser board provides power (12 volts -> DC/DC converter -> 3.3V LDO linear regulator), or maybe the card just doesn’t want to cooperate.

FAIL: Marvell 88SE9128 2x SATA III + 1x PATA UDMA-133

This adapter caused Windows to almost freeze during boot. Instead, the boot animation would advance by one frame every 2 seconds until the card is removed. I suspect this is the PCIe bus attempting to negotiate a connection but failing, possibly due to signal integrity issues. Checking the Windows Event Log turned up nothing either.

Test 4: … More PCIe?

FAIL: Extender Cable

One would think that a simple straight-through cable would work, right? Nope – it seems like the signal has already been degraded enough after traveling across multiple non-ideal connections, and the extra length in a cable was just enough to degrade the signal beyond recovery.

PASS: PCIe Port Multiplier / ASMedia ASM1184e

UPDATE (July 3, 2019): It seems that the “USB 3.0” pinout on these PCIe risers is inconsistent. I was somehow able to make do by using a PCIe card plugged into my current riser, which then led to the ASM1184e board, which splits the PCIe 2.0 1x lane into four slots. It seems like the chip is able to handle the attenuation over such a long cable length, and it even includes a 100 MHz clock buffer, effectively “refreshing” the signal for more sensitive PCIe cards.

I tried the 88SE9128 card again, but still had no luck. Ethernet cards worked without issue, but I wasn’t able to test the graphics cards as the ASM1184e board’s PCIe slots are closed-ended 1x slots. I could try cutting the edge of the connector to allow for larger cards, but that’s an experiment for another day.

Conclusion

Despite all the roadblocks I encountered in this project (sometimes rage-inducing ones), I still enjoyed this project and the various techniques I tried along the way. The prospect of attaching desktop PCI Express peripherals to a CPU designed for a tablet opens up many different applications for the Atomic Pi, including ones that would otherwise have been less efficient or impossible using the board’s built-in hardware (e.g. dual Gigabit Ethernet without using USB, or GPU-intensive computing workloads).

The high-speed nature of modern computer systems presents many challenges for engineers and modders alike. Multi-gigabit interfaces easily reach into the realm of radio-frequency (RF) electronics, where things like AC transmission line effects and differential signal routing become very important. This issue, coupled with the fact that most modern devices use very small components, makes it difficult for many electronics hobbyists to access these interfaces on their own. Although a modification like what I did is technically possible, I don’t consider it practical for an average electronics/computer enthusiast.

Future Ideas

One avenue I’ve thought about pursuing is a mod board that is soldered onto the Atomic Pi’s PCB, allowing a more robust connection for the PCIe lines; this would include signal integrity improvements like ESD protection and PCIe line redrivers to strengthen the signals to/from the SoC and peripheral(s). PCB design is currently beyond my scope of knowledge, but it would be a fun way to dive right into the subject matter.

eMMC Adventures, Episode 4: Recovering data from physically damaged BGA eMMC Flash storage chips

As seen on Hackaday!

The ball grid array (BGA) chip package has been instrumental in getting modern electronics to fit in smaller and smaller spaces, as it uses tiny balls of solder on the bottom of the package to make electrical connections, instead of copper leads on the edge of the chip package. This allows for hundreds of connections to be made in a small amount of PCB area, but their size also makes them very vulnerable to damage as well.

One common way for BGA chips to become damaged is called “pad cratering“, where the copper pad on the package’s substrate (basically a wafer-thin circuit board) separates and leaves behind a crater.

In the case of eMMC (Embedded MultiMediaCard), its package type is known as an FBGA (Fine-pitch Ball Grid Array), so the area of each pad is very small (0.4 mm in diameter!); it doesn’t take much at all to crater the pad – even gently removing solder with solder wick and generous amounts of flux can still cause damage! Most of the pads on an eMMC package are unused, but if any one of the DAT0, CLK, or CMD pads are damaged, then the chip is rendered unusable, even if the chip is placed into a socket for data recovery. If the DAT1-DAT7 pads are damaged, data recovery becomes much slower as the chip is forced to use fewer lines to transmit data (the MMC standard supports data over 1, 4, or 8 lines).

However, there is some hope. Many FBGA packages, including eMMC, use pads that are SMD (solder-mask defined); this means the solder mask is what defines the size of the pad, not the copper itself. Therefore, when the pad gets cratered, often there is a “halo” of copper left behind that still has a chance of getting an electrical connection.

The trick is how to to get a flat conductive area that a chip socket can use to get a reliable connection (without a copper pad, soldering is no longer an option). The eMMC socket adapter I used breaks out the eMMC onto an MMCplus-shaped PCB that can be inserted into any commercial SD card reader.

Filling in the Blanks

There are a few possible materials that can be used to restore contact area on a damaged BGA pad. One possible option is a silver-filled conductive epoxy, but I have not tested its efficacy; an additional consideration is that the volume of the filled-in crater might not be enough to get a filling with sufficiently low resistance for a good connection.

Another option is using solder paste, which I used in this case. Unfortunately, solder’s surface tension is our enemy when trying to fill in a flat area (it wants to form cohesive balls and therefore won’t want to stick to the ring of copper left around the crater), so a means of forcing the solder into the crater requires something flat, rigid and capable of handling the high temperatures experienced during soldering.

At first I tried Kapton (polyimide) tape, but that was a massive failure since it didn’t have the rigidity to stay flat when the solder paste began to melt, and the liquid flux rendered the adhesive useless.

The solution to the issue came in the form of glass. Specifically, I used very thin (0.15 mm thick!) glass “cover slips” normally used to prepare specimens for viewing under a microscope. These can be very inexpensive and one can obtain hundreds of them for a few dollars. The key is to fill the craters with the solder paste by using a knife as a squeegee, then placing the cover slip on top of the eMMC and reflowing it.

It took a few iterations for the pads on some of my eMMC chips to be restored sufficiently, as the volume taken up by the solder will be less than the paste and its accompanying flux. It doesn’t have to fill the entire crater – it just needs to be enough for the eMMC socket’s pins to make a solid connection.

Conclusion

The high-density nature of modern BGA chips is both a blessing and a curse. When trying to do data recovery from devices that use such tiny chips, such as eMMC or UFS Flash storage, sometimes the desoldering process is too much for the chip’s pads to handle. With some ingenuity (and thin glass), it might be possible to temporarily restore enough conductive pad area to get the data off with the help of an eMMC socket.

Performing safer AC line voltage measurements using isolated amplifiers

DISCLAIMER: AC line (mains) voltage is not something to be taken lightly! Attempting to safely handle line voltages while minimizing the risk of harmful or fatal electric shock is the main motivator for me to design and build this circuit. However, I am no electronics engineer and I definitely have no formal training on international standards pertaining to high-voltage safety. I accept no responsibility, direct or indirect, for any damages that may occur if you attempt to make this circuit yourself, including personal harm or property damage. Additionally, there is no warranty or guarantee, express or implied, on any content pertaining to this blog post (or any other posts).

UPDATE (November 19, 2018): Added isolation voltage ratings for the amplifier and DC-DC converter.

As seen on Hackaday!

Back in mid-2017 I won a Keysight DSOX1102G digital storage oscilloscope (DSO), a piece of equipment long on my wish list but never acquired until then. One thing I’ve wanted to be able to measure with an oscilloscope for a long time was the waveform of the AC utility (in other words, the wall outlet). However, doing so presents a very real risk of blowing equipment up or shocking yourself (and possibly other people). In order to prevent this, I needed a way to perform measurements on the AC line without being directly connected to it; in other words, I need galvanic isolation.

Isolation Methods

There are many different ways to achieve galvanic isolation. Common methods are the use of transformers and optocouplers, but they each have their own disadvantages.

Optocouplers (aka optoisolators) are a common component used for isolation, but they require a fair bit of external circuitry to work correctly – not to mention its current transfer ratio (CTR) varies with temperature and age, resulting in drifting measurements over time if a feedback circuit isn’t used. They also aren’t very fast; the common Sharp PC123 optocoupler has a cutoff frequency of only 80 kHz and a response time of 3-18 µs (but newer ones can be much faster).

Transformers don’t require active circuitry and would make stepping down voltages simple. However, their inductive nature causes issues when measuring waveforms with low-frequency content and sharp edges (like the output from modified sine wave inverters), resulting in inaccurate measurements due to the ringing and other distortion that the transformer creates. Additionally, common iron-core transformers aren’t very good at capturing frequencies above 20 kHz.

Solution: Isolation Amplifiers!

I settled on using an isolation amplifier to provide the necessary protection from the AC line and the oscilloscope. Several years ago TI provided sample kits for electronic motor drives, with one component being the AMC1200 isolation amplifier; this is the IC that I used in my AC waveform viewer – however, note that there are some limitations that I will address later in this blog post.

The AMC1200 uses TI’s digital capacitive isolator technology, using high-voltage SiO2 (silicon dioxide) dielectric capacitors on the chip itself for high voltage protection. The amplifier’s input is essentially digitized using a sigma-delta modulator, whose output is then sent digitally across the isolation barrier before being demodulated back into an analog output. It is rated for a working isolation voltage of 1200 Vpeak (848 Vrms), and a maximum isolation voltage of 4000 Vpeak (2828 Vrms), well above the typical voltages experienced on a 120V line.

AC Waveform Viewer Construction

 

As with most of my projects, my AC waveform viewer is built on FR4 fiberglass perfboard. The isolation components used are the AMC1200 isolation amplifier by Texas Instruments, and its corresponding power supply is the NXE1S0505MC isolated DC-DC module by Murata. It is rated for reinforced insulation up to 125 Vrms and basic insulation up to 250 Vrms, with a production-tested Hi-Pot rating of 3 kVDC. It does provide reinforced insulation at the voltages used in North America, but is still the weaker link in terms of maximum isolation voltage.

The AMC1200 features differential inputs and outputs, with a maximum input voltage of +/- 200 mV intended for use with low-resistance current shunt resistors.

One potential problem with perfboard is that the through-holes compromise the high-voltage isolation of the circuit (reducing the creepage and clearance distances), acting as multiple series spark gaps. The solution to this is similar to how isolation slots are used on commercial PCBs; that is, drill out the holes! This greatly increases the distance between each side of the circuit and improves the safety of the circuit.

The AC voltage input is scaled down to a manageable level via a resistive voltage divider. I used four high-precision 300kOhm resistors in series, plus a 1kOhm resistor placed across the AMC1200’s input terminals. Since the input is floating thanks to galvanic isolation, I decided to place the amplifier’s input in the middle of the voltage divider (that is, 600kOhm of resistance is present from the neutral and line terminals) to provide some extra protection from harmful electric shock; 120 Vrms / 600 kOhm = 0.2 mA to ground is the maximum amount of current that could possibly flow if I were to contact this floating node on the amplifier (this calculation assumes that my body has zero resistance, but human skin resistance is generally much higher than this). The voltage divider and the AC input terminals of my waveform viewer are further insulated with a layer of clear epoxy for even more protection.

The power supply terminals are fused with a 500 mA fuse before being protected by an SMAJ5.0A TVS (transient voltage suppression) diode and filtered with a 22 uF tantalum capacitor. The AMC1200’s output terminals are protected with 5.1 V Zener diodes at the terminal blocks for ESD and overvoltage protection.

Due to the floating nature of the waveform viewer, this essentially is a differential probe for my oscilloscope (and most high-voltage differential probes actually aren’t isolated!).

Circuit Limitations

No circuit is perfect, and mine is no exception. Here’s a few issues with my circuit that I’d like to address:

Isolation limitations

The AMC1200 only provides “basic insulation“; that is, it will provide protection from electric shock as long as its insulation barrier is not damaged (in other words, there is no redundancy). Circuits that have terminals that can be directly touched by humans needs “reinforced” or “double” insulation to be compliant with international regulations.

The NXE11S0505MC isolated DC-DC converter has a maximum working voltage of 125 Vrms for reinforced insulation and 250 Vrms for basic insulation, with a Hi-Pot test at 3 kVDC. This is lower than the AMC1200’s maximum voltage of 4000 volts, but these should still have enough headroom to keep me safe in the event of a mild voltage spike. It might prove useful to add some sort of surge suppression with a MOV (metal oxide varistor) or similar device.

The perfboard layout is also sub-optimal for the sake of isolation. Despite drilling out a row of holes to increase the creepage and clearance distances, it isn’t quite enough to meet regulations, as the clearance is only 3 mm and the the creepage isn’t much better, around 4 mm. This is still more than enough to withstand normal AC line voltages, but there is always a chance that higher-voltage transients will make their way onto the line and the isolation barrier needs to take this into account.

Output limitations

The AMC1200 provides a differential output that is centred (common-mode voltage) at 2.5 V, which can be an issue with single-ended inputs like that on an oscilloscope. I’ve worked around this by using a floating power supply, like a USB power bank, and connecting the oscilloscope’s ground terminal to the AMC1200’s Vout- pin. Also, the AMC1200 has a limited bandwidth of 60-100 kHz, but for the purposes of waveform monitoring it is sufficient; however, the amplifier’s noise and offset also negatively impacts performance as the high attenuation ratio essentially amplifies these values to the point where the AC waveform looks like a 2 Vdc offset and the noise level is so high that I need to use the averaging or high-resolution acquisition modes on an oscilloscope to get a clean waveform.

Power supply limitations

The NXE1 isn’t quite suited for such a low-power task as operating a single amplifier input. According to the datasheet, the output voltage can rise to twice the rated voltage if it is loaded with less than 20 mA. To combat this, I placed a 5.1 volt Zener diode across the output to provide regulation, which unnecessarily wastes power. Another regulated module like the NXF1 series would be a better choice, and the unit cost at one-off quantities isn’t a huge deal either.

Room for improvement

With this circuit working properly, I had plenty of ideas to make the second iteration even better:

Simultaneous voltage/current inputs

With the ability to measure current, I can perform measurements on the current draw of a device, allowing me to determine the power factor of a device.

True single-ended outputs

Most ground-referenced devices like oscilloscopes are not meant to handle differential inputs directly. Multimeters, especially battery-powered ones, are an exception.

Reinforced insulation rating on amplifier

The AMC1200 is only rated for basic insulation, so having an amplifier rated for reinforced insulation would provide greater electric shock protection. Alternatives like the Silicon Labs Si8920 could be a viable solution.

Waveform captures

 

 

Conclusion

Despite its ubiquity, AC power is a force that must not be taken lightly. Performing measurements on it, especially when viewing its waveform on a non-isolated oscilloscope, requires extreme caution as line voltage (especially in countries where 230 V is common) can easily injure or kill.

Using a voltage divider and isolation amplifier allows for safer measurements of the AC line without introducing distortion, especially compared to transformer-based implementations; this is critical when measuring the waveforms of modified sine wave inverters.

My implementation of an isolated differential probe helps protect me from electric shock when making measurements, while costing much less than a commercial high-voltage differential probe (for example, the CT2593-1, costs almost $330 USD on DigiKey).

But… which one would you trust more?

eMMC Adventures, Episode 3: Building a custom adapter to use cheap eMMC-based 32GB SSD modules

As seen on Hackaday!

While on my quest for more eMMC-based storage devices, I stumbled upon a few devices that piqued my interest: eMMC-based SATA SSDs! I found two models of particular interest: Dell had M.2 modules with a 2.5″ adapter, and HP had custom boards intended for use in cheap laptops (for example, the HP 14-an012nr). Although the former was easier for me to use (but not acquire), I will be focusing on the latter in this blog post.

Overview of HP 14-am/14-an Series SSD Module

Unlike Dell’s convenient M.2 modules, the cheaper boards from HP (costing about $12 USD when I purchased them) had a physical interface intended for use only with its intended host; despite using a SATA interface, physically it used a 10-pin FFC (Flat Flexible Connector, aka “ribbon cable”) since it was designed to work only with HP’s 14-am/14-an series of  low-cost laptops. The boards are labeled “DINERAMD-6050A2862201-DB-A01” and have a copyright date of 2016 in my case.

The BayHub OZ788WR2 Bridge Chip

These eMMC-based SSDs use a curious little chip, the BayHub OZ788WR2 (labeled 788WR2A on the chip itself). It is an SD/MMC-to-SATA adapter, with an SD UHS-II/MMCplus HS200 device interface and SATA II 3Gbps host interface. Apart from the brief description from the manufacturer, no other data is available for the chip (and even finding the chip online is basically impossible).

It’s a shame that so little is known about this chip (and that it’s so rare to find in actual devices), especially since high-performance SD-to-SATA adapters otherwise do not exist, as they use outdated SD-to-CompactFlash adapter chips that are limited to 25 MB/s speeds. If I had the engineering expertise, time, money, and ability to acquire these chips, I’d totally try to make an SD-to-SATA adapter with this chip… but alas, that will still remain a fantasy.

Step 1: Pinout Discovery

The single connector on the eMMC SSD is a ZIF FFC (Zero Insertion Force, Flat Flexible Connector), with no publicly available pinout or any other information. Perhaps this was why I got them for so cheap – apart from holding only 32 GB, nobody could even use them in their own computer even if they wanted to!

When trying to reverse engineer an unknown connector pinout, one needs to first look for ground pins. This is easily accomplished by using a multimeter with a continuity or diode test function, with the multimeter’s positive lead on a known ground point on the DUT (Device Under Test) – screw holes are often good candidates to look for. Ground pins will read as a short, but active IC and power pins will look like a forward-biased diode – appropriately 0.5 to 1 volt. I found 3 power pins (these are often grouped together on connectors for greater current capacity), 3 ground pins, and 4 SATA data pins. The data pins don’t show up on the multimeter test since they have series AC coupling capacitors, but they are easily located next to the connector and have clearly visible differential pairs leading to them.

The issue now is trying to find what order the SATA data pins are in, and how they relate to a regular SATA interface. As it turns out, the pinout is very simple: it matches the pinout of the 7-pin regular SATA interface! This makes sense as the SSD module and the laptop itself are designed to be cheap to manufacture.

Step 2: Building the Adapter (Take 1)

With the pinout known, the harder part is wiring up the connector. However, without a matching connector for the ribbon cable, I have no choice but to solder to it.

As I soon learned, not all flex cables are made of heat-resistant polyimide (aka Kapton) – this one melted before I could even tin the exposed leads. No matter, I’ll just use my trusty magnet wire and hook up the data and power lines! With the help of a salvaged SATA connector from a dead laptop drive, I was able to cobble together a crude adapter for the eMMC SSD board.

Although I didn’t end up taking a picture of the adapter, it wasn’t pretty. It also wasn’t very functional either – although the eMMC SSD board was able to identify itself (on my PC it showed up as a “BHT WR202HH032G E70211F5”), I couldn’t actually perform any data transfer without causing the OZ788WR2 to log hundreds of interface checksum failures (but hey, it supports S.M.A.R.T. data reporting!).

After some tweaking of the wire spacing, I was able to get the adapter stable enough to work, and encased it in hot glue for protection. It lasted a few weeks but eventually stopped working because one of the data wires broke off inside the blob of hot glue. Additionally, the outer contacts on the ribbon cable connector were peeling away from its plastic substrate. It was time for a rebuild.

Step 3: Building a Dedicated eMMC SSD (the teaser!)

Since I had multiple eMMC SSD boards, I took one, replaced the eMMC with a 128GB one from Samsung (the KLMDG8JENB-B041) and removed the ribbon cable connector. In its place, I used some very thin twinaxial cable from a dead MacBook and used a gutted CFast-to-SATA adapter for a shell. Stay tuned for that in another blog post!

Step 4: Building the Adapter (again!)

Much like my previous attempt, I used a salvaged PCB from a dead laptop drive, but left a lot of it instead of chopping it off directly at the connector. This particular one was a dead Samsung HDD, and it had one particular feature that I could use to make a stronger adapter: it had a TSOP footprint for the DRAM cache, which was just the right pitch for me to solder the ribbon cable to!

With a little help of my hot air rework station, I removed the DRAM cache and DC-DC converter, leaving the SATA AC coupling capacitors and the power input components (filtering choke and capacitors, and input overvoltage protection) behind.

After scraping off some solder mask, I soldered the SATA data wires and the ground wires surrounding them with very thin magnet wire, trying to keep the data pairs as close to each other as possible to minimize the chance of interference causing problems. The power wire was soldered to the power input components, right next to the input capacitor for better power delivery.

After checking with the multimeter that no short circuits were present, I hooked up an eMMC board and plugged it into my PC. It enumerated without issues, and running several tests including CrystalDiskMark, h2testw, and Hard Disk Sentinel’s random read test, amassing several hundreds of gigabytes in reads and writes with zero CRC errors logged in the S.M.A.R.T. data.

With everything checked out, I cleaned the circuit with isopropyl alcohol and covered the exposed end of the ribbon cable and the magnet wires with clear epoxy for protection. I also used a bit of epoxy on the flex connector to re-secure the lifted contacts to the substrate.

Conclusion

With a bit of wire and a circuit board from a dead HDD, I was able to reuse cheap eMMC-based SATA SSDs on computers that they weren’t meant for (and they even had copies of Windows 10 Home with extractable license keys! 🙂 ). Although not as fast as a modern full-fledged SSD, its relatively high 4K IOPS performance means it works well enough as a quick boot drive for running quick tests of OS installation without needing to sacrifice a bigger drive just for testing – and they consume less than a watt even when fully active!

Upgrading a passive Power over Ethernet splitter with 802.3af compatibility

As seen on Hackaday!

If you haven’t heard of Power over Ethernet, chances are you’ve experienced its usefulness without even knowing about it. Power over Ethernet (PoE for short) does exactly as the name implies: power is sent over the same Ethernet cable normally used for data transfer. This is often used for devices like IP phones and wireless access points (often you see these APs in restaurants and other establishments mounted to the ceiling to provide Wi-Fi access), as it is far easier, cheaper and safer to provide low-voltage power instead of wiring in AC power which requires the help of a licenced electrician.

A (Very Simplified) Background on Power over Ethernet

The actual PoE standards (click here to learn more) IEEE-802.3af (up to 12.95 watts), 802.3at (up to 25.5 watts) and the newest 802.3bt (up to 60-90 watts) standards provide vendor-independent methods for sending and receiving 48-volt DC power over the Ethernet cable without frying the device on the other end if it’s not equipped to receive power. The PSE (power sourcing equipment) manipulates the Ethernet pairs to sense the presence of a PD (powered device), then queries what power level it should provide; after this negotiation phase, the PSE finally sends 48 volts to the PD (usually on pins 1/2 and 3/6, called Alternative or Mode A) and all is merry, thanks to the help of “phantom power“. However, cheaper devices are available which skip this and simply shove DC power over the Ethernet cable with no regard to the safety or well-being of the remote device – this is called “passive PoE”. There are no regulations regarding passive PoE, but they generally send DC power (often 12, 24 or 48 volts) over Ethernet pins 4/5 and 7/8 (called Alternative or Mode B), usually shorting the two pins on each pair for easy power transmission at the expense of being limited to 10/100 Mbps speed.

Many years ago (I’m talking back in high school, over 6 years ago), I bought some cheap PoE equipment – a D-Link DWL-P200 PoE injector and splitter kit – assuming it was compatible with 802.3af due to its use of 48 volts… it wasn’t. Since I bought this on a trip to the US and I live up in (the arguably nicer 🙂 ) Canada, I couldn’t be bothered attempting to return it to the Fry’s that I bought it from; it served some use powering a wireless router for a few years before I ditched it in favour of a ZyXEL GS1920HP-48HP 802.3at-compatible switch and Ubiquiti UAP-AC-PRO access point. It then sat in my junk bin for a while before I took it back out and conjured up a solution to make the splitter compatible with the PoE standard; this way I could tap into my existing 802.3at-compatible infrastructure I wired into my house (or perhaps use it to siphon a couple watts in other places 🙂 ).

Note I am using the word “compatible” and not “compliant” since this definitely does not attempt to comply with all of the electrical specifications contained in the 802.3af/at standards; however, I have tested this on 802.3af and 802.3at Ethernet switches and have had no issues with the upgraded splitter. One significant attribute is that true PoE requires electrical isolation and my splitter certainly does not provide it; for my use this isn’t an issue and even some commercial splitters omit this feature to reduce cost.

Modifying the D-Link DWL-P200 for 802.3at Compatibility

The DWL-P200 is a near-ideal candidate for conversion to 802.3af/at (I’ll call it “active PoE” from now on) since it already uses 48 volts for power – all it really needs is an active PoE-compatible front-end which requires an Ethernet isolation transformer, two diode bridges, a TVS (transient voltage suppression) diode, a 802.3af PD controller chip (and a partridge in a pear tree?). Easy enough, right… right?

Step 1: Prepare the Power Interface

The DWL-P200 splitter does not use a diode bridge on its power input (pins 4/5 are positive and pins 7/8 are negative), but active PoE requires that PDs include diode bridges for polarity-insensitive operation. Additionally, the splitter does not have an isolation transformer normally used for Ethernet; rather it had 10 ohm resistors on pins 1/2 and 3/6 as series coupling between the input and output – these were removed to provide a spot to install the centre-tapped isolation transformer that active PoE requires for Mode A (power on pins 1/2 and 3/6).

After harvesting an Ethernet transformer from a dead MacBook (seriously, dead computers make for great component stores), I scraped away insulation on the differential data pairs and used 40-gauge magnet wire to connect each pair to the transformer, and used 30-gauge Kynar wire for the power lines which are connected to the centre tap of each pair. To affix it, I used a blob of hot glue (which turned out to be pretty useless since this board runs HOT!), and ran the wires off to one of the diode bridges in the front-end I built.

The data output pins (1, 2, 3 and 6) are terminated to an AC-coupled ground using 75 ohm resistors, often referred to as “Bob Smith termination” to help reduce noise.

Step 2: Build the PoE PD Front-End

The actual front-end was built as two separate boards: the first was the power input board; the second was the 802.3af active PoE PD controller, which had its own construction considerations that I’ll address in a bit.

The power input board is pretty simple and was comprised of two Bourns CD-HD201 60-volt Schottky diode bridges and a SMAJ58A 58-volt TVS surge suppression diode to help overcome voltage spikes that can occur when a cable is unplugged due to the inductance in the cable itself. The inputs of the diode bridges were then connected to the centre taps of the Ethernet transformers and the original pins 4/5 and 7/8 on the power/data input of the splitter.

The second board is the PoE PD controller, which is responsible for negotiating with the 802.3af/at PSE controller at the other end of the cable. I used the Texas Instruments TPS2378 PoE PD controller, which was meant for 802.3at Class 4 (25.5 watts maximum) but I’m only using it for 802.3af Class 0 (up to 12.95 watts). The TPS2378 has a heat-sinking “PowerPAD” on the bottom which must be connected to Vss (ground); I used solar cell tabbing wire underneath and created a sort of fin-like arrangement on the unused area of the DipMicro SOIC/TSSOP-to-DIP adapter board (they don’t sponsor me – I just really like their adapter boards!). The external PoE detection and power class signal resistors were soldered to the DIP pads on the adapter to save space.

Step 3: Put it Back Together Again

Once the two boards were assembled and connected to the original FP5001 DC-DC converter‘s input, the boards were nestled inside the original case and some Kapton tape was wrapped around the case since I damaged some of the plastic clips that held it together during disassembly.

Conclusion

With the active PoE upgrades installed, the splitter now works with 802.3af, 802.3at and passive 48 volt PoE power sources. However, the internal construction of the splitter means it only supports 10/100 Mbps Ethernet. Additionally, I find that the board gets very hot under full load (I’ve measured internal temperatures well above 100 degrees C when the case is closed) which negatively impacts its efficiency, but I consider it a fair trade-off considering this was never meant to work on active PoE in the first place.