Fixing up the tank Parts 2 and 3
This post will cover both part 2 (removing the old tank) and part 3 (installing the new one).
David and his offsider arrived right on time and within a very short time had the old tank heading downwards. This image also suggests why doing the job is not possible in strong winds (unless the dismantler feels like a bit of paragliding).
I hadn't realised there was a join halfway up the tank.
Here is the bare site after about 4 hours yakka.
David said they'd try to start a bit earlier on the construction the following day so as to have the new tank built before the strong winds start up. We have got about 2,000 litres of water in our small tank which I'll pump up as soon as they've built the new tank, to anchor it in place. Some truckloads of water have been ordered for the afternoon.
I didn't take any photos of the construction phase, being cognisant of a joke I read somewhere about a plumber who quoted his rate as "$75 an hour. With assistance from owner $100 an hour". However here is a distant shot of David installing the inspection ladder. The image doesn't capture the wind which had just started to blow - but there are no paragliding options by this stage!
By then the pump at our catch tank was running and shifting the water in there up to the main tank. Frances and I decided as a matter of policy that we wouldn't open up the valves on the main tank or at the house until the truck has been and delivered at least one load of water.
That was important to hold the tank in place against strong winds. The truck arrived and had no trouble accessing the tank (after a small amount of bonsai on an Acacia dealbata).
15 minutes later 14,000 litres of water had been added to the tank and I turned on all the things that had been turned off. I'm really looking forward to my shower!
As part of this exercise we have been disconnected from water inside the house and had watering cans and bottles of water all over the place. Most of which we didn't need.. This did cause another thought back to Tanzania.
One of the more distressing sights there was after rain in the rural areas, when some locals would be seen scooping water out of roadside puddles into buckets, jars and such like. The worst instance of this was in Chalinze, about 100km West of Dar es Salaam, where the roads West to Morogoro (and on to Malawi) and North (to Arusha and Kenya) met. The puddles there, particularly those near a bus stop where the many long distance buses hauled in, were about 33% water, 33% mud and 34% spilled diesel and abraded rubber. The mamas collecting the water looked very old but if you drank that stuff I reckon you'd look very old soon after puberty.
Thinking about those observations, the fact that my shower was a tad tepid this evening (I had turned off the heater for about 48 hours as a safety precaution while the water supply was disconnected) seems to require the comment "Toughen up Princess."
David and his offsider arrived right on time and within a very short time had the old tank heading downwards. This image also suggests why doing the job is not possible in strong winds (unless the dismantler feels like a bit of paragliding).
I didn't take any photos of the construction phase, being cognisant of a joke I read somewhere about a plumber who quoted his rate as "$75 an hour. With assistance from owner $100 an hour". However here is a distant shot of David installing the inspection ladder. The image doesn't capture the wind which had just started to blow - but there are no paragliding options by this stage!
That was important to hold the tank in place against strong winds. The truck arrived and had no trouble accessing the tank (after a small amount of bonsai on an Acacia dealbata).
As part of this exercise we have been disconnected from water inside the house and had watering cans and bottles of water all over the place. Most of which we didn't need.. This did cause another thought back to Tanzania.
One of the more distressing sights there was after rain in the rural areas, when some locals would be seen scooping water out of roadside puddles into buckets, jars and such like. The worst instance of this was in Chalinze, about 100km West of Dar es Salaam, where the roads West to Morogoro (and on to Malawi) and North (to Arusha and Kenya) met. The puddles there, particularly those near a bus stop where the many long distance buses hauled in, were about 33% water, 33% mud and 34% spilled diesel and abraded rubber. The mamas collecting the water looked very old but if you drank that stuff I reckon you'd look very old soon after puberty.
Thinking about those observations, the fact that my shower was a tad tepid this evening (I had turned off the heater for about 48 hours as a safety precaution while the water supply was disconnected) seems to require the comment "Toughen up Princess."
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