Rotten Nipple and a New Bladder (some pics, long)
Posted: 2005-01-29 03:37pm
A photo-assisted vent by Petrosjko and the Bride of Satan
------------------------------
The day started much like any other. I got out of bed. I got my pants on the right way. I had a long moment of peaceful repose upon the sacred throne, before heading to the kitchen to brew some of the blessed elixir of life. I emptied the thermal pot of last night's brew, reached over to turn the sink faucet on... no water. No water. No water means... no coffee. NO COFFEE! NOCOFFEENOCOFFEENOCOFFEENOCOFFEE!
Drama queen.
Okay, I'm better now.
Now, this is not an unheard-of occurence. First thought- did it freeze? It wasn't that cold last evening, but if there was a sudden cold snap, it could have happened.
Step out the back door. Nope, not that cold. Astroturf on the porch is soggy, for one thing.
Next possibility- electrical failure on the well breaker. Go to check...
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
The well tank... it has exploded.
No shit, for-real exploded.
Blasted clean off the damned wellhead.
Um.
Time to call the well service people.
Duuuuuuuh.
Thank you, Sasuko.
Any time.
So the well service people show up. They are impressed at the scale of damage, and tell me so.
Yes, so am I.
So, they commence to recommend a new bladder tank. It's better, somehow, presumably in a 'less likely to explode and blast damn near into the propane tank' fashion. Plus it has a five year warranty.
Sign me up.
Whee! A new bladder. Tank.
In order to do this they're going to have to pull the old pump, which seems to still be somewhat functional. However, upon further testing it is shorting.
Hmm...
Wonder if that has anything to do with why the tank exploded.
Are you being deliberately obtuse?
Hey, it's an honest question.
So we have to pull a hundred and fifty feet or so of pipe to extract the pump...
Metrics, mortal worm! This is an international board!
Ahem.
So we have to pull around 45.72 METERS of pipe to extract the pump. Which is, shall we same, somewhat antique.
"How old is this thing?"
"I dunno, twenty years."
"Twenty-two, says here!"
"Yeah, twenty-two."
(Should I do that in metric years?)
Should I find out how many meters long your large intestine really is?
Moving right along, the pump is joined to the line by a plastic nipple that was installed when the pump was. So naturally it's rotten all to hell.
Yuck.
So at first we're still trying to determine if the pump can be salvaged, so extracting this rotten nipple is quite a chore.
But then, just for the hell of it they run another test. Nope. It's fraaaaahed, as we say hereabouts.
Well sheeit.
So about that new pump? Sure. Horse and a half, like the old one? Sure.
I'm not an engineer, but I must say that they reassembled everything in much more sounder fashion than it was originally put together.
You just say that because they used more tape than the first guy did.
Large amounts of tape are essential to any well-built contraption. Hell, everybody knows that.
So then we feed the pipe and the wire back in. (I say we because I did help.)
You held the wire straight. What would they have ever done without you?
Um, had a kinky wire?
Then they put the new tank on. It's... much shorter than the previous one, albeit a bit bigger around. But... it's stubby.
You are such a Texan.
True dat. Anyway, then came the bill. Ah, yes. One arm, one leg, kidney? Sure.
(This is why emergency funds are a good thing, kids.)
See, if you'd just taken my advice, it would have been free. Let them finish working, then allow me to... deal with them.
Great idea. Then when the cops come to find out what happened...
I fear not the police.
And that's why I had to change my name and we had to move out of Mississippi, remember?
Change is good.
Yeah, sure.
So anyway, I finished running the water to get the mud out. Fortunately none of the pipes burst, so the damage was slightly mitigated. And as I finish typing this, I hear the coffee pot finish its brew cycle. So life endures. I'll just go to the kitchen and get a nice cup of coffee and try to forget this morning ever happened.
You dare enter my domain, foolish mortal? Step into my lair, said the kitten to the mouse!
I don't think it goes quite like... AAAAAAAHAAAAAAAACCCK! NOT MY EYES! NOT MY EYES!
No puny humans were mutilated in the production of this essay. Would these adorable blue eyes lie?
Postscript- Near as we can figure, the pressure switch malfunctioned and overpressured the tank, causing the dramatic explosion.
------------------------------
The day started much like any other. I got out of bed. I got my pants on the right way. I had a long moment of peaceful repose upon the sacred throne, before heading to the kitchen to brew some of the blessed elixir of life. I emptied the thermal pot of last night's brew, reached over to turn the sink faucet on... no water. No water. No water means... no coffee. NO COFFEE! NOCOFFEENOCOFFEENOCOFFEENOCOFFEE!
Drama queen.
Okay, I'm better now.
Now, this is not an unheard-of occurence. First thought- did it freeze? It wasn't that cold last evening, but if there was a sudden cold snap, it could have happened.
Step out the back door. Nope, not that cold. Astroturf on the porch is soggy, for one thing.
Next possibility- electrical failure on the well breaker. Go to check...
HOLY FUCKING SHIT!
The well tank... it has exploded.
No shit, for-real exploded.
Blasted clean off the damned wellhead.
Um.
Time to call the well service people.
Duuuuuuuh.
Thank you, Sasuko.
Any time.
So the well service people show up. They are impressed at the scale of damage, and tell me so.
Yes, so am I.
So, they commence to recommend a new bladder tank. It's better, somehow, presumably in a 'less likely to explode and blast damn near into the propane tank' fashion. Plus it has a five year warranty.
Sign me up.
Whee! A new bladder. Tank.
In order to do this they're going to have to pull the old pump, which seems to still be somewhat functional. However, upon further testing it is shorting.
Hmm...
Wonder if that has anything to do with why the tank exploded.
Are you being deliberately obtuse?
Hey, it's an honest question.
So we have to pull a hundred and fifty feet or so of pipe to extract the pump...
Metrics, mortal worm! This is an international board!
Ahem.
So we have to pull around 45.72 METERS of pipe to extract the pump. Which is, shall we same, somewhat antique.
"How old is this thing?"
"I dunno, twenty years."
"Twenty-two, says here!"
"Yeah, twenty-two."
(Should I do that in metric years?)
Should I find out how many meters long your large intestine really is?
Moving right along, the pump is joined to the line by a plastic nipple that was installed when the pump was. So naturally it's rotten all to hell.
Yuck.
So at first we're still trying to determine if the pump can be salvaged, so extracting this rotten nipple is quite a chore.
But then, just for the hell of it they run another test. Nope. It's fraaaaahed, as we say hereabouts.
Well sheeit.
So about that new pump? Sure. Horse and a half, like the old one? Sure.
I'm not an engineer, but I must say that they reassembled everything in much more sounder fashion than it was originally put together.
You just say that because they used more tape than the first guy did.
Large amounts of tape are essential to any well-built contraption. Hell, everybody knows that.
So then we feed the pipe and the wire back in. (I say we because I did help.)
You held the wire straight. What would they have ever done without you?
Um, had a kinky wire?
Then they put the new tank on. It's... much shorter than the previous one, albeit a bit bigger around. But... it's stubby.
You are such a Texan.
True dat. Anyway, then came the bill. Ah, yes. One arm, one leg, kidney? Sure.
(This is why emergency funds are a good thing, kids.)
See, if you'd just taken my advice, it would have been free. Let them finish working, then allow me to... deal with them.
Great idea. Then when the cops come to find out what happened...
I fear not the police.
And that's why I had to change my name and we had to move out of Mississippi, remember?
Change is good.
Yeah, sure.
So anyway, I finished running the water to get the mud out. Fortunately none of the pipes burst, so the damage was slightly mitigated. And as I finish typing this, I hear the coffee pot finish its brew cycle. So life endures. I'll just go to the kitchen and get a nice cup of coffee and try to forget this morning ever happened.
You dare enter my domain, foolish mortal? Step into my lair, said the kitten to the mouse!
I don't think it goes quite like... AAAAAAAHAAAAAAAACCCK! NOT MY EYES! NOT MY EYES!
No puny humans were mutilated in the production of this essay. Would these adorable blue eyes lie?
Postscript- Near as we can figure, the pressure switch malfunctioned and overpressured the tank, causing the dramatic explosion.
