A while back, I mentioned that we'd had some
interesting plumbing issues. When we
first got the boat, we noticed an odor that got stronger when we used the head
and so we've been working on finding the problem ever since. According to my Women Who Sail FB site, this
is not an unusual problem.
In our modern homes, we can choose to have toilets
that are clean and convenient; you don't even have to know what the movement is
like if you don't want to. You just
don't look and you flush it away, to be taken care of by someone else.
Well, on our boat, going to the head is an
in-your-face experience, and for some, like our fearless Captain, that is the
description of a literal explosion for him.
Docked in Stuart, we were expecting a good friend to
visit in about an hour. We had attempted
a pumpout as we came in and it failed miserably as it seemed we had a clog in
the outtake hose.
The way a head works, or at least the way ours
works, is that you do your business, then pump IN water from the outside to
make the contents flushable, then you flip a switch, and pump the bowl
dry. From there, the contents end up in
a holding tank, which for those of you with septic, is similar, but much, much
smaller, and located right beneath our feet, rather than under a lot of dirt
and fine-smelling green grass. I would
prefer the grass.
There is also an vent on the outside of the boat
that allows airflow in and out of the tank.
You don't want to be downwind when that is in operation.
So, here we are, waiting for our friend, and Gary
gets to the problem hose, which means opening up most of the galley sole and
pulling things out and having the offending hose standing straight up in the
air. He'd biked to a local hardware
store to get a plumbing "snake" to dig through the clog (most likely
there since before we took ownership--so this wasn't even familiar poo he was
dealing with).
We'd put baking soda and vinegar down the outside
hose to help break it up, but had not had much success. But it seems that a lot of pressure had built
up behind the clog, because when he finally broke through, the unfamiliar feces
exploded all over the cabin and the Captain.
Needless to say, an epithet familiar with the toilet exploded from the
Captain's mouth at the same time.
Great. The
clog was gone, but now we were expecting a visitor in minutes with
unmentionable byproducts stinking up the boat.
The Captain worked quickly, though, and was able to, somehow without
retching, clean up and put all the hoses back together in good time.
He changed clothes and went to the Marina office to
check in; we'd been anchored out and on a mooring ball before coming into the
docks, so we had to recheck in.
As he walked through the door, there was our friend
asking for directions to our boat; it was perfect timing and she was able to
enjoy a nice visit without a clue to what had just happened.
P.S. For your own good, I did not get pictures of this epic event.
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