Miner Hiccup

Having spent the preceding three months or so immersed in the world of crypto I was eager to take the next logical step; mining.

I would have chosen Steem but since, as I understand it, Steemit runs on a proof of stake system it is not possible to mine it at such.

This left me with the choice of either ASIC mining, for Bitcoin or GPU mining for Ethereum or one of a few other alt coins. I got to researching. As most of us know, Bitcoin is like the ‘father’, or ‘mother’ of all crypto currencies. It is the oldest and most valuable coin; that which all others are measured against, on the exchanges at least.

I looked into the various ASIC miners on the market and after exhaustive hours spent online I decided that the best ‘bang for my buck’ would be the Antminer S7 mini. Running at about $250 each they would produce, at the time of researching, about $3 a day. I should qualify these statements with the fact that here in Venezuela we pay virtually nothing for electricity so questions of efficiency are pretty much irrelevant. I had managed to save about $3000 so was looking to buy perhaps as many as ten machines.

Having decided which machine to go for the next step was availability. I checked the Antminer website and found that they had none in stock. Not to be discouraged I looked on Amazon, US and Canada and found that there were some available but at about $350. This was a bit of a blow and would mean a reduced quantity but I was still positive I could make it work.

The next step in the process was checking on the rules and regulations for importing such items into the country, and of course the shipping costs. Here I was dealt a heavier blow. To import electronic goods onto the island I would be hit with a 20% fee; that is to say that I would have to pay $420 per machine plus roughly another $80-$100 per machine for shipping.
This wasn’t going to work.

There were S7’s and S5’s available second hand on our own version of Amazon, called Mercadolibre, but who really wants to buy second hand electronic goods, especially ASIC miners which have probably spent their lives so far running at maximum velocity. Some friends of mine had recently bought a bunch of S5’s second hand and they had functioned for about a month before failing to boot up one day. They took the machines to a local technician, quite a wizard by all accounts, but he informed them that the machines were basically junk.

It was time for a rethink.

I took another look at GPU mining. The coins which can be mined are of a much lower value and the speed at which they are mined is also lower. The cost of the components is relatively high so at first glance it may seem that to invest in this kind of mining is not such a good idea.

But let’s take a closer look.

The GPU miner consists of:

1. A mother board, much the same as you would find in your own PC.
2. A hard drive, doesn’t have to be high capacity as not much memory is needed
3. A power supply, the second most expensive part of the machine and its required capacity is determined by the power consumption and quantity of the next item on the list
4. 1 to 6 graphics cards. These are available in various specifications and consume electricity from a little to a lot depending on brand and power output.
5. A CPU
6. Assorted cables and connectors and an operating system.

So there you have a basic list of components. All of these components are readily available, even here in Venezuela and are tried and tested computer components which are maintainable AND upgradeable.

This started to look like a better option for me. I liked the fact that the component parts of the mining machine have a resale value as computer parts, unlike ASIC miners. I liked the fact that the technology which make up the components is tried and tested, again unlike ASIC. And most importantly, if any component failed, I could simply replace it and keep mining.

I did a little more research and came to the rock solid decision that I would put my money into a GPU miner. Being a bit of a dinosaur when it comes to computers I looked for and found a couple of good technicians who were ready to build me a machine. We sat down and haggled out a price, in Bitcoin of course, and we made the transaction there and then.

A week later I received a phone call to say that my machine was ready for collection at my earliest convenience.
A buddy of mine was willing to give me a ride to the other side of the island to collect the machine so off we went; it was Saturday a couple of weeks ago.

I could barely contain my excitement; the purchase of this machine was going to make a real difference to my life here on the island. I have been working towards launching my own furniture brand but having to take on any and all work offered just to survive makes this a tough proposition. As I may have mentioned before, my ‘day’ job is great soul food but doesn’t earn me much money, so actually mining the coins basically for free would make a real difference and my experience on the exchanges has been good so far; a few Dollars extra each week would be great.

So, I was enjoying the anticipation and happily watching the scenery as we drove along the picturesque route to the technicians’ house when we came upon a police roadblock. I was unfazed as this is a common occurrence here. I took out my phone and began to fiddle about with it, ignoring the police as we slowed to walking pace on the approach to the checkpoint. The phone tactic is just a habit I have developed to appear unconcerned as we drive through and usually works as it’s been a very long time since I have been stopped. For some reason, as past experience has taught me, if I look at the cops I usually get pulled over, maybe I have a guilty face.

This time though, the phone trick failed and we were ordered to pull over. As we stopped and opened the windows the cops came to us, one on each side of the car and ordered us out. There was no debating it this time so we got out of the car.

”Documents”, one cop said to me so I produced the photocopy of my passport and gave the cop my most honest face as I told him that my actual passport was being held by immigration as they processed my residency application. I motioned that he should turn the laminated photocopy over to see the receipt immigration had given me.

To my surprise he actually studied it closely then said ”this is four years old, they still have it?” ”yes” I replied, “you know how things are.” He looked unconvinced. As my little drama was unfolding, my friend was being grilled by the other cop; he was asked for his license and other documents and here we had our second problem. My friends’ driving license was out of date, a misdemeanour for sure but on top of my missing ID we were a good catch for these cops and, rather surprisingly, they offered no opening for a bribe to be paid.

We were escorted to the cabin on the side of the road and told to wait inside. This was going to be a drag and not at all as I was anticipating the day to unfold. Inside the cabin was a large cop asking the questions whilst his smaller, harassed looking companion took notes. We were grilled over our missing/out of date documents and calls to the police station were made. About a half hour later we were told to get back in our vehicle; another cop got in the back seat and we drove to the station about ten miles further up the road.

The station was full when we got there; it was about midday and the patrol officers had come in for lunch and changeover. I the roughly 18x18 foot room there were eight cops, my friend and I, a middle aged couple dealing with a stolen phone and two dodgy looking chaps covered in tattoos, cuts and bruises sitting handcuffed to chairs in the corner of the room.

Not much was said to us for the first two hours; we just stood by the wall and waited. We still had our phones so I called a friendly cop I know and asked him if he could intervene. He was happy to try but it would be some time before he arrived as he was out shopping with his wife and mother in law. I told him I understood and was happy to wait it out.

Sometime during the third hour the station commander arrived. He was clearly unhappy to have been disturbed on a Saturday afternoon and entered the station like a thundercloud. I knew he was here for me and felt nervous for the first time that day. The duty Sergeant accompanied the Commander into the adjoining hallway for an explanation and a few minutes later I was called to join them.

Stepping through the door into the darkened hallway did nothing to ease my nerves but there was nothing I could do other than to tell the truth and see how it played out.

The Commander was a big guy, broad shoulders and the kind of paunch which only good living can produce. He loomed over me and asked in his deep voice ”Are you the one that INTERPOL was looking for at the airport the other day?” ”Me?” I said, “no” for some reason I found the question funny and struggled to keep a straight face. The struggle became more difficult as he asked his next question ”Do you have vices? You use crack?” ”crack” I said “I can’t even afford beer, no, I don’t use crack. I’m a carpenter, I barely even drink alcohol. ” This satisfied him for a moment and he allowed a little space to form between us. ”So what’s this I hear about your papers then?” He asked.

”it’s like this” I said, ”there’s nothing I’d like more than to get my papers sorted out. I’ve been registered with immigration for six years now but have gotten nowhere with the issue.”

As luck would have it, the cop I had called earlier had just returned from a trip to the Capital to inquire as to the progress of my application. He had come back with the disappointing news that the legal, administrative route for processing residency applications had been suspended but that if I was willing to pay $1500 directly into the sub director’s American bank account I could have my documents in a week.

I said as much to the Commander and a heavy silence followed. Corruption is rife here but no-one likes to acknowledge it, least of all those who benefit directly from it. There was a pause which brought concern that I may be made an example of and I thought to myself of the cruel irony of being deported on the very day I was to collect my mining machine.

The tension was broken as two cops came barging through the door with a struggling, blood soaked suspect clutched between them. I was momentarily forgotten as the Commander took an elbow to the chest and the suspect took another beating as he was wrestled to the floor. I was escorted back out to the waiting area and heard muffled curses as I imagined the scene behind the closing door.

Whilst I had been with the Commander my friendly cop had arrived and he wasted no time explaining my situation to the duty Sergeant. I’m guessing that the stories matched as not long after we were both told that we could leave. As we walked to the door my friend was told he must sort out his driving licence as soon as possible and I offered to fix the broken steel door as I took the Sergeants’ hand firmly and thanked him for his hospitality. He replied that he had my phone number and would give me a call.

Exiting the police station into the clean, fresh, sunny air I felt a flood of happiness. Whilst I never really expected to be deported, my life could very easily have been made difficult had the Commander taken a disliking to me. I thanked my friendly cop, and his wife who was waiting under the shade of a tree and assured them of a very good price for the work they had commissioned me to undertake at their home.

My friend and I got back in his truck and finally made it over to the technicians’ house. He was a little surprised that it had taken us so long to get there and asked as much. We told him about the roadblock and the events which followed to which he simply shrugged his shoulders by way of a response. This was not an uncommon occurrence on this island and in these times.
What remained of the afternoon was spent learning the various ins and outs of my new Ethereum mining machine.

I won’t go into detail but let’s just say that the last three weeks have brought all I was hoping for.