Been thinking on and off about folks who can't find O2 without a prescription. Maybe it's just Texas, but I have two welding stores within 5 minutes of our house that I was just able to waltz into and buy a tank, so I had no problem. And considering the relief it brought my husband it seems criminal to deny anyone the right to get the same if they have weighed the risks and make the decision to do so. (I am agreeing to disagree with Bob Johnson on that count- though I hold him in the highest esteem)

SO- maybe welding stores won't sell a tank, it got me thinking: who would? And I focused on urban settings. SO after some brainstorming I hit on 2 possible sources. Aquarium and pond supply places: people take aquarium fish VERY seriously, and there are pure O2 systems for backup aeration and other applications. And second- serious anglers use pure O2 tanks to aerate bait tanks on boats. Bingo- doing a google search on that one and I found one that listed local sources all over the US and the world (looks like E, D, and something smaller with the CGA 540 valves) range in price from $109 to $129.

I am hazarding a guess on this, but from what I read on that site, this site, and personal experience once you OWN a tank the welding places will probably refill it for you without much hassle.

I'm also guessing it's easier to pass yourself off as a serious fisherman than a welder. Dig?

Now, I'm not saying DO it, I'm just saying... um, yeah, I'm saying do it.

I looked and looked, and I couldn't find anything saying I couldn't say where I had found those oxygen tanks, but I don't want to get myself in trouble either. If I get an OK from a moderator I'll do so. But really, I just Googled Pure O2 Fishing Bait and spent 5 minutes digging around.

Just regular old Montana air with a minnow pump works just fine.
   I recommend LEASING the oxygen tank.  If the tank needs anything it's on their dime.

                 Potter

Oh and Potter, I agree, renting is the way to go if you can do it. I was just thinking about the person who couldn't get a tank from various welder supplies in (I believe) New York City and then started to try to find a way around the problem.

Brew:

I bass all the time.




Wifey:

but I actually catch'em

Oh, and like I told some friends the other day, I'm the bass player, she's the bass slayer.

"My wife" vs. "the wife."

difference.

Brew wrote on Oct 13^th, 2010 at 9:15pm:

 
hmmmm....good point lol

Mike...sounds like you got a "keeper"   

Quote:




Gotcha. 

I've used, "the girl" here, but only get away with it because she's not going to see it, otherwise I'd begin the entity "purseholder boy."  Um, yes, different from "my guy."

Certainly, love the smile of that spunky kick getting one over, the jughead.   

I bought a big tank and a small one this year.  When they are empty, I take 'em in and they give me full one's at 30.00 a pop.  Lemon peazee.

Actually, inferior welds would be the most likely byproduct of contaminated welding O2.

Personally speaking, short on thread-pertaining innovative know-how and pretty assured of dependence on those that are, important ideas can keep informatively on track.  So ...

Lauren17 wrote on Oct 14^th, 2010 at 9:02am:


an instance of account relating somewhat off-handed to another important matter:


In late 1942, on the day before the Allied invasion of North Africa, Churchill revealed with barely suppressed excitement to his daughter Sarah, "At this very moment, sliding stealthily through the Straights of Gibralter under cover of darkness, go 542 ships for a landing in North Africa.

Not exactly, said Sarah, "It's 543."

Churchill, pausing stone-faced, stared and asked, "How do you know?"

"I've only been working on it for three months."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I believe there is such a thing as security."



Ahem, her Dad, Prime Minister and Defense Minister, three months.

Kinda proudly, yes, he can chuckle.  Dinner that night at Chequers, he enjoyed telling the story with relish of her one-upmanship.

No secret to his dinner guests by that time. The French were notified before arrival -- a question of pre-landing combat.

Sarah was an analyst of reconnaissance photos in Berkshire, a top secret post, very good at it, although Winston was too busy for details of her trusted job duties, which she made sure was accurately provided at top level meetings.  Info he relied on came from there.  Shared info from Dad was of no surprise to either, her leadership there was, though.

She was long intimate with FDR's extreme trustee in London and a visiting Eleanor's most confidently trusted, ambasssador John Gilbert Winant.  Questioning a breach by Sarah would be a red herring on a pink elephant.