Plumbing new depths successfully
FRIDAY morning. Just like so many other mornings. The same old routine, or so I thought until I was rudely interrupted by a washbasin determined not to allow its contents to drain away.
It had been fine a couple of days before, and I remember cleaning the basin with the water gurgling away quite happily then. So what had changed? As I pondered my dilemma, I could detect the level of liquid sluggishly receding down the sides of the basin as it eased its way down the waste pipe. Had the overflow suddenly blocked, creating an airlock preventing the water from draining away?
After a couple of attempts to clear the blockage with a hydro pump proved to be unsuccessful, I concluded that the problem might be a bit more serious than I had first imagined. This became a job for the weekend, as I had other plans on how to spend my Friday apart from checking my column. Saturday morning duly arrived. I contemplated the problem whilst taking breakfast and reading the latest pandemic news in the paper.
Before I was struck by plumber’s panic I remembered I had a copy of 1001 DIY Hints and Tips courtesy of Readers Digest, purchased in the days before the internet existed, let alone YouTube. Pulling it out from its handy location in the bathroom cupboard, I studied the section on unblocking a waste pipe. A right do-it-yourselfer that’s me! The task seemed straightforward enough and soon I had dismantled the pipe-work under the washbasin and cleaned away years of accumulated gunge and grime. The waste outlet looked fine, but I gave it a quick clean on the inside for good measure. Confident that I had addressed the problem, I reassembled the pipe-work all ready to test my handiwork.
Only things didn’t go quite to plan. I opened up the tap fully expecting to hear once more the contented flushing sound of water gurgling down the plughole. Instead, the water sat there staring back at me, expressionless. It was time for a re-think. What had I missed? Slowly it began to dawn on me that my worst fears might be about to be realised. Could there be a secondary blockage further down the waste pipe? By then my sous-chef was calling me for lunch. As I pondered this setback, I resolved to mull over the snag and at least enjoy the Rugby League Challenge Cup match currently on TV. It turned out to be a nerve-racking affair between St Helens and Leeds with the match balanced on a knife-edge until the dying seconds, when Tommy Makinson dived over to score a try in the corner and put the outcome beyond doubt. I’d recorded the result so I phoned the other Smith, who was out of town to give him our team’s winning result.
Sunday morning came. A bright cold day ideal for a cycle ride but remembering there was still a puncture to mend made it out of the question. I had more pressing repairs to attend to. Somewhere was a blockage in the water waste pipe so wheelies had to wait! With the plumbing snake to hand and having once more taken the connections apart, it was time to again start probing the depths of the waste pipe to see if I could locate the blockage. With snake extended to its limit into the entrails, I met with no further obvious resistance.
By now, I was almost ready to concede defeat and call in the experts, but never say die, there was one last thing I could try. I was in the last chance saloon with one desperate last roll of the dice if you will. Could I create a vacuum with the hydro pump and in so doing dislodge the cause of my abject misery? The pump fitted snugly over the waste outlet… great! Half a dozen concertina pump thumpings later; I heard a ‘phut’ followed by what sounded like a gurgle of water escaping. Further disgorgings met with no air resistance.
Yippee! I had finally dislodged the blockage. About to congratulate myself, I was assailed by noxious fumes escaping up the outflow pipe. I knew then that my ham-fisted clouts had succeeded. I had plummeted to the depths of despair after a short-lived feeling of elation the previous day before giving up, now I emerged triumphant in a moment of pure euphoria. Recovering from my momentary gas attack, I quickly reconnected the metal tubing and then the test… and it worked. I turned on the tap once more and this time water flowed freely. My victory was complete. I had timed my labours to perfection.
By now, the sous-chef was summoning me for lunch. Quick to clean up and take my seat at the dining room table I felt great. I never had a glass of wine (a Quixotic La Mancha tinto) which tasted so good. As I related the success of my exertions to my rapt audience, I sensed another article in the making. Why not call it ‘plumbing new depths’ chef replied.
Just the ticket, I thought and made ready to hit the keys. Hold hard he said, aren’t you forgetting something?
A puzzled expression spread across my face. I thought you wanted to watch 'Ben Hur' he intoned. That’s so but you’ve forgotten that you promised to do another job for mum when you were visiting the DIY on Saturday. I went schtum, gob-smacked! I had promised several times to buy a new toilet seat and she who must be obeyed had sternly asked me to get a wooden one rather than a cold modern plastic one. Needless to say that omission was corrected a couple of days later.
That aside, what better way to wind down on a Sunday afternoon having surmounted weekend trials and tribulations as an amateur plumber flushing bathroom problems yet still being able to watch 'Ben Hur' and Rugby League whilst the rest of the family were trying to get maximum scores at Scrabble with words like Covid, pandemic, inject and mask-up!
My waterworks exertions may not have been an ideal way to use up a dreary lockdown weekend but at least it put the coronavirus out of my mind for a while… next week maybe I’ll mend the bike puncture!