Bugger. I've just bought a Fluke 8125A multimeter. If I can get it working my life will be complete since it has the only common[1] display I don't have: nixies. Now all I have to do is go and pick it up.
While there might or might not be one for for sale on fleabay $688, I paid somewhat less than that, and there aren't any completed listings for me to guess its resale value.
[1] yes, that's the weasel word to hopefully avoid pedants convincing me my life is incomplete.
Well, I went to the end of the world and got it. Google streetview hadn't even got that far, and one of the three bridges there was blocked by a
large lump of concrete, probably because the bridge had concrete cancer. I chose the next bridge, 10m / 2miles away, and found my destination amongst the brambles. The Forest of Dean[1] was visible on the horizon, on the other side of the estuary. If I'd gone 10 yards further I'd have been in salt water.
The bloke told me it worked but he didn't have any leads. (So how did he know it worked?) The lack of a mains lead was going to be a problem because the mains enters The Thing via a front panel socket and is screwed in to hold it in place. Oh well, for the price I paid it was worth it.
So brought it home, didn't hose the grime off the outside because I presumed the seals were buggered, opened the lid, opened the compartment in the lid, and found a mains lead. Joy
Plugged it in, manhandled the on/off switch, a front panel light came on - but nothing else. Drat.
Started disassembling it, looked clean, no defunct caps, batteries where they should be, turned it on and found a bit of the PSU that was literally glowing, went and had some coffee.
Came back, found an "AGC" fuse was deceased. Found a replacement clipped in the lid, turned it on again and applied 9V to the input terminals...
The observent will notice an unusual component near the rear bulkhead.
I'll do more of a teardown in another thread.
[1] for those overseas, the Forest of Dean is
strange in many ways. They still have people hacking coal out of mines with pickaxes and pit ponies, and the shops have recently dragged themselves into the 1960s. Much like the Fens, in a different way.