newtanksmell
New member
When will I learn not to toy with the tank? Maybe toy isn't the right word. A more accurate description might be, when will I learn to call FEMA prior to doing any tank project?"
After a false start on Thursday night, I was Hades-bent on getting my refugium installed last night. Mrs. Smell was out working, so it was just Jax and I here.
I had invested serious thought. Even made a list:
1) Turn off main pump and OF.
2) Close valves to minimize back siphon.
3) Drain sump.
4) Disconnect pump
5) Pull Sump
6) install refugium base. - CHECK CLEARANCES
7) Reinstall
8) Water/Valves/Pump
Go ahead and mock me. I know. Pure logic at this point.
I fired up the RoDI, drug the kiddy pool in the house and made one final assessment before beginning. I would like to report that I did have a moment of brilliance by resisting the temptation to crack a tasty Pinot.
I killed the main pump, then promptly ran around twisting more valves than the last man at Chernobyl, with the serious look that can only be described as that of the true reefer.
Once I verified that the CL was OK and running, and I hadn't inadvertantly disco'd the Seios, I removed the TMBTIFOTI, aka The Mighty Beast That Is Fond Of Tasty Impellers, or skimmer if you prefer. I then began draining the sump.
ERROR # 1
When one is filling a 7 gallon bucket it is important to have the next water vestage nearby. It turns out that this is especially critical when one is pumping water at 1100 GPH !
I was standing on my patio filling up the container when my arch fish enemy, the guy in the apartment above me with the 55 gallon FW set up, replete with neon glowing skull and Oscars, wanders by.
I immediately donned the 'I'm cool like that cause I'm a reefer' slouch as I gave him the all important head-nod of no more than one inch. Any fish person knows this means that you're cool enough to acknowldege others even though your work is akin to the equivelent of mixing explosives.
As I did the head-nod, in my best Clint Eastwood voice I said, "installing a refugium." I left off the 'punk' part because I thought that was a tad too much. I would like point out that it takes someone with incredible charisma to pull off being cool when saying the word "refugium."
Just as the word "refugium" cleared my lips, a fountain of water exploded up out of the container. At this point I went from the 'cool reefer slouch' to what probably appeared to the neophyte to that of a parent who was changing the diaper on a baby when the baby decides to start a fountain of his own.
This is where things got interesting. I feined left.....nowhere to go. I juked right...........where am I going ? I then spied the patio wall outside and made a dash for it.
At the 99 yard line, or one foot from the wall, I came to a screaching halt as the hose became taunt. I then felt the hose give and clearly heard the sound of a pump crashing to the bottom of my sump.
Now, 16 feet one-inch hose elected to begin to back siphon in to the house. I am unsure what happed to Glow Skull Oscar dude but I think I heard him snickering while heading up to his apartment, probably to feed a goldfish to his Oscars.
Fortunately, any reefer worth his 1.025 (ooh I'm witty this morning. Go ahead, you can quote me!) has a pile of towels around. When the hose had become disconnected, it had fallen on the towels. I immediately dove for the hose, followed quickly by the "I'm at the olympics and I must reach for the stars in my Marry Lou Retton 10 pose."
The thought off all that water hitting the floor was more than a married man could stand. The thought of Mrs. Smell coming home to the sounds of squish would surely force her to get out her turbo-charged broom and fly around the house for a while. We don't want ANY of that. Just ask my faithful Lab.
After lining up some additional containers, I got the the sump emptied, disconnected unions and got ready to remove the sump.
ERROR # 2
Now a 40 gallon sump with a touch of water in it has a little heft. It won't crush a vertebre, but you have to lift and pull like you mean it.
I tilted the sump in order to allow clearance of the overflow. Because of my contortionistic position, my keen eyes had to observe OF clearance from an odd angle.
Once I thought I had clearance, I have it tug. Hmmmm nothing. I tugged a little harder. Ooh, that was interesting I rocked the stand causing waves in the main tank. Must be the weight of the sump. So I put a little more a$$ in it and promptly heard the sickening sound of PVC cracking.
My facial expression, had anyone been here to witness it, must have surely looked like a cross between the Homer Simpson (DOH !) look, and that of the bad guy in a B movie when he throws a grenade at the good guy and good guy promptly throws it back, landing mere inches from his feet.
I set the sump down for an emergency inspection. Let's just say that the sound of water dripping in to a sump with all valves in the CLOSED position is deafening. Ooh.......listen. The drips have become a soft babbling brook.
With great horror, I discovered that I had cracked or partially cracked the PVC glue seal ABOVE the main valve on the overflow. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.
With visions of 120 gallons on the carpet, I called a friend. He said I was jibbering. It sounded like this:
"HOLY $%^&& !
HOLY $%^&!
Cracked O F !
MAYDAY !
MAYDAY !
Get yur a$$ to Lowes
Ball Valve Ball Valve !
Chop ! Chop !
eeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiioooooooo !"
Fortunately, since my friend has a number of tanks, he reported back with the precision of a fighter pilot.
"2 minutes to Lowes. 4 minutes from your back gate."
"10-4 Ballvalve 3. I read you you 5x5 and Lickin Chicken !"
At this point, I went to my PVC bucket. Due to an act of God, I had everything I needed with the exception of the ball valve.
The pressure of gluing up multiple PVC parts, remembering which pieces can be glued and which must wait until the final install, all the while listening to unnatural water sounds, is a true test of mental strength.
Just then, the phone rang. Why does the phone always ring when one is seconds from disaster ?
It was the Mrs. Smell. She was probably going to tell me who was on Oprah today.
Our conversation went like this:
Me - "WHAT !"
Mrs. Smell - "Hi Honey ! I'm on my way home. Don't forget, tonight is date night. Did you get the vinyl chicken suit back from the cleaners?"
Me - Can't talk now. Big big big big BIG leak. No time. No time. Can't even pee-pee. Gotta GO. eeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuu !"
With that, I slammed the phone down and went back to cutting PVC. Just then, the phone rang again !
Mrs Smell - Hi Honey ! What's wrong ?"
ME - "Do not toy with me woman ! I'm at Defcon 3 over here. The lives of the the entire city are at stake ! Call here again and you'll surely lose a finger. Divorce me tomorrow ! Eeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiioooooooo !"
Back to cutting PVC. Ring ! Ring !
"John ? Gary. 45 seconds from back gate."
I arrived at the back gate to witness my friend throwing his vehicle in the the prettiest 4 wheel drift to be seen since The Streets of San Francisco.
Now, I have to admit that cutting your OF above the valve with an empty interior OF box while praying that your silcone job holds is terrifying at best. My life flashed before my eyes no less than three times.
Gary ran in, tossed a towel down on the floor, and immediately placed all the PVC in the required installation order. I sawed.....more water. I sawed some more. Was that a creak ?
This would be a good time for a prayer.
"Dear lord, it's been a while since we last chatted.
During our last conversation, I failed to mention that I truely do feel remorse about taping a tac to Joy Serigosa's chair back in the fourth grade. Please note that Mrs. Freeze did allow the entire class to pick my punnishment, which consisted of writing 8,500 words. I did complete the project, but my accomplishment was overshadowed by accidentally getting gum in Debbie Kniesel's pony tail.
I would also like to point out that I really didn't lust after that woman with the HUGE......um..................eyes. If you recall, my wife was kind enough to point her out to me which should in itself constitute a moral, if only temporary, Get out of Hell free card.
Anyway, if you aren't too busy, would you please find it in your heart to keep my tank from flooding the house for another two minutes ?
And yes, I WILL be at church on Sunday."
Well, they say that God watches over fools. We hacked out the old OF. Re threaded a coupler, and reinstalled.
Mrs. Smell is not speaking to me but I can fix that.
I pick up the chicken suit at noon.
After a false start on Thursday night, I was Hades-bent on getting my refugium installed last night. Mrs. Smell was out working, so it was just Jax and I here.
I had invested serious thought. Even made a list:
1) Turn off main pump and OF.
2) Close valves to minimize back siphon.
3) Drain sump.
4) Disconnect pump
5) Pull Sump
6) install refugium base. - CHECK CLEARANCES
7) Reinstall
8) Water/Valves/Pump
Go ahead and mock me. I know. Pure logic at this point.
I fired up the RoDI, drug the kiddy pool in the house and made one final assessment before beginning. I would like to report that I did have a moment of brilliance by resisting the temptation to crack a tasty Pinot.
I killed the main pump, then promptly ran around twisting more valves than the last man at Chernobyl, with the serious look that can only be described as that of the true reefer.
Once I verified that the CL was OK and running, and I hadn't inadvertantly disco'd the Seios, I removed the TMBTIFOTI, aka The Mighty Beast That Is Fond Of Tasty Impellers, or skimmer if you prefer. I then began draining the sump.
ERROR # 1
When one is filling a 7 gallon bucket it is important to have the next water vestage nearby. It turns out that this is especially critical when one is pumping water at 1100 GPH !
I was standing on my patio filling up the container when my arch fish enemy, the guy in the apartment above me with the 55 gallon FW set up, replete with neon glowing skull and Oscars, wanders by.
I immediately donned the 'I'm cool like that cause I'm a reefer' slouch as I gave him the all important head-nod of no more than one inch. Any fish person knows this means that you're cool enough to acknowldege others even though your work is akin to the equivelent of mixing explosives.
As I did the head-nod, in my best Clint Eastwood voice I said, "installing a refugium." I left off the 'punk' part because I thought that was a tad too much. I would like point out that it takes someone with incredible charisma to pull off being cool when saying the word "refugium."
Just as the word "refugium" cleared my lips, a fountain of water exploded up out of the container. At this point I went from the 'cool reefer slouch' to what probably appeared to the neophyte to that of a parent who was changing the diaper on a baby when the baby decides to start a fountain of his own.
This is where things got interesting. I feined left.....nowhere to go. I juked right...........where am I going ? I then spied the patio wall outside and made a dash for it.
At the 99 yard line, or one foot from the wall, I came to a screaching halt as the hose became taunt. I then felt the hose give and clearly heard the sound of a pump crashing to the bottom of my sump.
Now, 16 feet one-inch hose elected to begin to back siphon in to the house. I am unsure what happed to Glow Skull Oscar dude but I think I heard him snickering while heading up to his apartment, probably to feed a goldfish to his Oscars.
Fortunately, any reefer worth his 1.025 (ooh I'm witty this morning. Go ahead, you can quote me!) has a pile of towels around. When the hose had become disconnected, it had fallen on the towels. I immediately dove for the hose, followed quickly by the "I'm at the olympics and I must reach for the stars in my Marry Lou Retton 10 pose."
The thought off all that water hitting the floor was more than a married man could stand. The thought of Mrs. Smell coming home to the sounds of squish would surely force her to get out her turbo-charged broom and fly around the house for a while. We don't want ANY of that. Just ask my faithful Lab.
After lining up some additional containers, I got the the sump emptied, disconnected unions and got ready to remove the sump.
ERROR # 2
Now a 40 gallon sump with a touch of water in it has a little heft. It won't crush a vertebre, but you have to lift and pull like you mean it.
I tilted the sump in order to allow clearance of the overflow. Because of my contortionistic position, my keen eyes had to observe OF clearance from an odd angle.
Once I thought I had clearance, I have it tug. Hmmmm nothing. I tugged a little harder. Ooh, that was interesting I rocked the stand causing waves in the main tank. Must be the weight of the sump. So I put a little more a$$ in it and promptly heard the sickening sound of PVC cracking.
My facial expression, had anyone been here to witness it, must have surely looked like a cross between the Homer Simpson (DOH !) look, and that of the bad guy in a B movie when he throws a grenade at the good guy and good guy promptly throws it back, landing mere inches from his feet.
I set the sump down for an emergency inspection. Let's just say that the sound of water dripping in to a sump with all valves in the CLOSED position is deafening. Ooh.......listen. The drips have become a soft babbling brook.
With great horror, I discovered that I had cracked or partially cracked the PVC glue seal ABOVE the main valve on the overflow. I think I threw up in my mouth a little.
With visions of 120 gallons on the carpet, I called a friend. He said I was jibbering. It sounded like this:
"HOLY $%^&& !
HOLY $%^&!
Cracked O F !
MAYDAY !
MAYDAY !
Get yur a$$ to Lowes
Ball Valve Ball Valve !
Chop ! Chop !
eeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiioooooooo !"
Fortunately, since my friend has a number of tanks, he reported back with the precision of a fighter pilot.
"2 minutes to Lowes. 4 minutes from your back gate."
"10-4 Ballvalve 3. I read you you 5x5 and Lickin Chicken !"
At this point, I went to my PVC bucket. Due to an act of God, I had everything I needed with the exception of the ball valve.
The pressure of gluing up multiple PVC parts, remembering which pieces can be glued and which must wait until the final install, all the while listening to unnatural water sounds, is a true test of mental strength.
Just then, the phone rang. Why does the phone always ring when one is seconds from disaster ?
It was the Mrs. Smell. She was probably going to tell me who was on Oprah today.
Our conversation went like this:
Me - "WHAT !"
Mrs. Smell - "Hi Honey ! I'm on my way home. Don't forget, tonight is date night. Did you get the vinyl chicken suit back from the cleaners?"
Me - Can't talk now. Big big big big BIG leak. No time. No time. Can't even pee-pee. Gotta GO. eeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiuuuuuuuu !"
With that, I slammed the phone down and went back to cutting PVC. Just then, the phone rang again !
Mrs Smell - Hi Honey ! What's wrong ?"
ME - "Do not toy with me woman ! I'm at Defcon 3 over here. The lives of the the entire city are at stake ! Call here again and you'll surely lose a finger. Divorce me tomorrow ! Eeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiioooooooo !"
Back to cutting PVC. Ring ! Ring !
"John ? Gary. 45 seconds from back gate."
I arrived at the back gate to witness my friend throwing his vehicle in the the prettiest 4 wheel drift to be seen since The Streets of San Francisco.
Now, I have to admit that cutting your OF above the valve with an empty interior OF box while praying that your silcone job holds is terrifying at best. My life flashed before my eyes no less than three times.
Gary ran in, tossed a towel down on the floor, and immediately placed all the PVC in the required installation order. I sawed.....more water. I sawed some more. Was that a creak ?
This would be a good time for a prayer.
"Dear lord, it's been a while since we last chatted.
During our last conversation, I failed to mention that I truely do feel remorse about taping a tac to Joy Serigosa's chair back in the fourth grade. Please note that Mrs. Freeze did allow the entire class to pick my punnishment, which consisted of writing 8,500 words. I did complete the project, but my accomplishment was overshadowed by accidentally getting gum in Debbie Kniesel's pony tail.
I would also like to point out that I really didn't lust after that woman with the HUGE......um..................eyes. If you recall, my wife was kind enough to point her out to me which should in itself constitute a moral, if only temporary, Get out of Hell free card.
Anyway, if you aren't too busy, would you please find it in your heart to keep my tank from flooding the house for another two minutes ?
And yes, I WILL be at church on Sunday."
Well, they say that God watches over fools. We hacked out the old OF. Re threaded a coupler, and reinstalled.
Mrs. Smell is not speaking to me but I can fix that.
I pick up the chicken suit at noon.
Last edited:
