I didn’t accomplish much the day following the installation of the water tank. I spent much of the morning doing a bit of laundry, and washing up the dishes that had accumulated while our water supplies were so diminished.
I did remove the water filter (after much cursing!) and re-wraped the threads of the connectors with much more teflon tape than previously. I did a bit of research, and the most sensible advice seemed to indicate that you should put only one or two wraps at the beginning of the threads, but then build up larger and larger amounts as you get further up the fitting, so that you can be sure that it is getting tighter, the further you are twisting it.
I did manage to also get the water sight line straightened and clamped up the wall, installed a bit of sponge in the end to keep dust or anything else out, and then Grandpa showed up with the mail.
|I added a second strap about halfway down, just to be sure!|
We observed the tank and I showed him that I had already pumped it a bit. I related that I was too scared to pump the tank completely full. This was irrational, as if it was going to fall off the wall, the sooner it happened, the better, as I was always adding stuff below it that I wouldn’t want crushed.
So, with Grandpa and myself watching, I punched in five minutes on the pump timer, knowing that the tank was already almost half full with two minutes of pumping in it.
|The water level is almost at the critical spot! Tension is building!|
Kenny came down to supervise, and Grandpa and I both watched the water climb higher, and higher.
Finally, it reached the top of the tank, and I could hear water start to gush through my emergency overflow pipe and down the drain. At the same moment, the water moved rapidly up the last few inches of the sight hose and stopped at the sponge.
I wanted to make sure that water wouldn’t actually rise above the sponge – that would negate the usefulness of the overflow pipe and would still be a terrible tragedy – I didn’t want squirts of water to be shooting into the cabin!
Craning our heads upward, Grandpa and I were both mesmerized by the sight of the water stopping at the sponge and holding there, listening to the water gurgling down the overflow pipe.
Suddenly Kenny broke the magical moment by asking “Why is there water all over the floor?”
(Photographic records of the next few minutes are unavailable due to the aiki photographer being pressed into emergency service…)
My eyes snapped down to the gushing flow around Grandpa’s boots, and for the second time in two days I found myself desperately mashing the off button on the pump while scrambling for towels (all of which are of course, in the sauna) or anything to dry up the mess.
I grabbed all the mats in the house and threw them down. Kenny got tremendously excited, and threw all our kitchen sponges on the floor to help soak up what he could.
Grandpa made himself scarce again as Kenny and I cleaned up the water and I put on an early fire to try to dry things out as quickly as possible.
|The aftermath. All our mats are outside dripping and awaiting a good cleaning and drying session.|
What could have allowed all that water onto the floor? I was going to have to CSI the heck out of this!
Working my way down the system, I knew that the overflow hose was in my drain. I looked under the counter at my drainpipe system, and that’s when I saw it…
|Gosh, even the arc of the side of the T was working against me in this case. Kids, don’t half-finish your jobs before testing them!|
I hadn’t completed the other half of the drain system – the part where the washing machine hose would ultimately be placed in a P trap. Instead, I had decided to just jam the hose down my drainpipe and leave the T open. Water coming in from the emergency overflow to the right of the picture just ran right across the T and out the left side, around the washing machine hose.
The Law of Unintended Consequences strikes again.