at the bulkhead, which is a hole drilled through the bottom glass, inside a ‘caisson-like’ containment called the ‘downflow box’: there is an open hole on the watery side, and a screw-on tap that goes to a hose on the ‘air’ side of the arrangement. Salt water was dripping from the ceiling of the basement, and soaking the craft room carpet in a small area. And a bulkhead with a little leak, as with a dam, can become a big catastrophic leak without too much warning. Why would a bulkhead leak? Either the surrounding glass cracked, or … the gasket that sits atop the bottom washer and under the top washer of the thing, in the water, has got a grain of sand under it. Picture, a downflow box that hasn’t been really cleaned since 2004. Sand. Live things. Grain of sand? Yeah, that could happen.

Now, pulling a bulkhead means draining the downflow box. Jane has pix. But shall we say she had an episode of acid reflux while at the worst of this, and both of us, after working 4 hours on it, re-starting it once sealed at least 6 times, and tinkering to stop a further micro-leak—are so sore we can’t even stand upright. I am at that age I can no longer kneel down and spring lightly to my feet. Well, there was a lot of that requirement in this operation. Jane is sore. I am sore.

And where would you get a bulkhead replacement? Well, at your marine fish store—if it weren’t Monday, when every marine store in the US shuts to regroup. At a plumbing supply? I called the best one in the county and they had no idea what I was talking about. Fortunately I remembered the House of Hose in Spokane Valley, where I got the hose for the tank, and they instantly knew what I was talking about: they deal in tanks and fluids. So I drove after it, and Jane kept cleaning.

Meanwhile—of course—our tank circulation is shut off. And a marine tank starts to go bad 8 hours after a shutdown. Oxygenation. Collection of waste. All stopped.

Fortunately because of the caisson-like arrangement of the box, our corals and fish would only pick up thumps and bangs as we worked and cursed. Shu had to get into it. And we have pix. Jane will put them up when she recovers.

But we are very proud to say we stopped the leak in the ‘up’ line. Now we have to deal with why the ‘down’ line is running more slowly than we’d like—as in—dangerously close to the top of the box, not draining fast enough to empty the box 6″ down—only 2″. So guess what? We now have to search the plumbing of the ‘down’ line for a clog—dating from the time we had an expired calcium test, and didn’t ‘get’ it until we’d overloaded the system with calcium, causing deposit in the pipes. Well, we knew we’d pay for that someday. It may have been what got the ‘up’ bulkhead. But we’re going to have to re-plumb the ‘down’ line next.

At least we have 2″ of leeway left. If that starts shrinking, we are going to have to move faster. But it sure won’t happen before tomorrow. And we are pooped.
That’s sailor-talk for when a wave comes over your stern and you say hello to Davy Jones. Lotta water today.