Plopgate (Not for the Squeamish.......)

My pudding at Pause Gourmand - Vicki, we'll go there when you come over, it's fab!!

Sooner or later boaters’ conversation will generally turn to the toilet.  It’s a subject close to our hearts, though closer to our bums in reality, and frankly, you’re quite lucky that I’ve skirted around it for so long on the blog!  After cruising down a flight with another boat for a day, you may not remember the name of the boat or her crew but you’ll remember what kind of toilet she has and any misfortunate happenings surrounding it for the rest of your life.

For the non-boaters amongst you a bit of toilet background first to set the scene…. There are various types of toilet on boats:

Sea Toilet: This is the simplest toilet; you do the deed, pull the lever and the waste drops straight out of the boat into the sea.  You are not allowed these toilets on the canal, as with no movement in the water – can you imagine!

Cassette Toilet: This is similar to a portaloo.  You do the deed, push the button and the waste drops into a cassette, which you then take when full, to a special disposal point and pour down the drain into the main sewage system. 

Pump-out toilet: This works like a normal toilet, as with the cassette toilet, except the waste is collected in a large holding tank and pumped out when full at pump-out stations by a ‘pooh-sucky’ machine (name courtesy of Pip!).  Some toilets macerate the waste on its way to the tank, others are just straight dump-through.

Composting toilet: This separates the liquid from the solids and the liquid can simply be used to water the hedges along the canalside (yes, this is legal) whilst the solids are left in a box below the toilet to decompose.  Once suitably composted, you dig a hole in woods somewhere and bury it.

There are many pros and cons for each system, hence the large amount of discussion about them amongst the boating community.  For the record, we have a macerator pump-out toilet as we prefer a ‘pooh-sucky’ machine doing the work rather than taking our waste for a walk along the canal to the nearest elsan disposal.

We have always had a bit of toilet trouble in that our gauge showing the tank’s status has never really worked, so we never knew when we were full or not and resorted to just judging it by a safe amount of time.  In April Jim fitted a new, simple gauge and a red light would come on when we needed a pump out (how long we had after the light came on to be worked out by trial and hopefully not too much of an error).  This worked successfully and the light came on usually around the three week mark which was in line with our pump-out timings previously, so we had a stress-free season in terms of the bog.

We pumped out before heading to France – didn’t relish the thought of all that muck sloshing about as she swang from the crane – and after about three weeks looked for the light to come on.  Four weeks on, it still hadn’t come on and we thought there must be a problem with the gauge, and as we were heading away for a couple of weeks over Christmas decided we should do a pump out anyway.  We’d mentioned pump-outs when we arrived at the port and with slight surprise at our request were told that there ‘might’ be someone who knows how the machine works…….  So we spoke with Chris and Liz next door and they confirmed what we’d already read elsewhere and had suspected was the way to do it.  Although it is illegal in France to dump your raw sewage into the waterways, most of the boats have sea toilets, so the waste goes straight into the river….  Chris and Liz, like us, have a holding tank which needs pumped out, and under the cover of darkness they just pumped out into the river.

 

I wonder if this wee chap knows what he's swimming in.

So, on the Tuesday before Christmas, after a few drinks with Chris and Liz, and under the cover of darkness, we got our new self-pump machine out of the gas locker and connected it up.  It felt as if it was pumping and there was gurgling from the hose into the river so we reckoned it was doing the job – as it was dark we couldn’t quite see, and given the nature of the job, didn’t want to look too closely with a torch.  We got the water hose switched on and put water into the tank to slosh it out, and pumped again until we reckoned it must be empty (and we were too knackered to pump any more!).  We put the kit away and I went back onboard, where there was a faint red glow from behind the electrics cupboard door…..yep….. the light was on, indicating the tank was full!!!  As it hadn’t been on before the pump out and had now come on after the pump out we immediately assumed it was a problem with the gauge.  I went to where the gauge is and shoogled it about a bit (couldn’t get it out completely), believing it maybe just had something stuck on it (apologies to the squeamish amongst you).  But the light stayed on.

It was still on a couple of days later, so I insisted that we try the pump out again, that maybe being pissed and doing it in the dark meant we’d misjudged how well we’d pumped.  So we pumped out again, in the dark but sober this time, but the light remained on.  We were pretty sure we’d pumped out as we could smell it and there was a gurgling from under the water where the end of the hose was, and we could see waste in the little glass bit they kindly put on the pump-out hose connector so you can watch your week’s dinners go by……

So, confident that the tank was empty we headed off, leaving the little red light glowing – well it was Christmas……

Fab Christmas pressie from the Roberstons

On our return the red light welcomed us back on board and we continued on with life aboard, not really doing very much to be honest but managing to fill our days doing nothing.  Well I did.  Mike was doing another bit of work having got the main bit out of the way.  Then one day I went to the loo.  The macerator made a loud gurgle and then after the flush had finished I could hear water running somewhere inside the boat.  I squealed!!  “The tank’s full and overflowing!!!!”.  And it was.  It was so full, when I had flushed it, the contents of the tank had found the only place to go was up the air vent pipe through the carbon filter and out the gap between the filter holder and its cap, back down the outside of the pipe and onto the floor.

I got gloves on and started mopping up under the floor under the drawers where it had gathered while Mike got the pump out kit ready.  I then heard Mike squeal, “Bloody Hell!!! It’s coming out the side….!!”  As he’d removed the brass screwtop to the tank on the outside, a surge of sewage met him as it made its escape from its cramped confines and trickled over the gunwhales and into the Yonne.

Yuk.

We had no option but to pump out in broad daylight, but this time we could see what we were doing and the pump itself felt different – much more purchase on the lever as we pushed it back and forth – and we could see it coming out the other end and disappearing off into the river.  We rinsed and pumped, rinsed and pumped, then cleaned everywhere up and put the kit away.  Somewhat shellshocked and slightly horrified, we went back on board.

The red light was out. The gauge was working perfectly.  We just hadn’t pumped out at all the first couple of times, but filled the tank with water and then continued using it, which would have been why we’d been plagued with a bit of a smell too. 

It’s been two weeks now and all is quiet and smell-free on board. 

And that’s probably the most excitement for the last couple of weeks.  It’s been very cold the last couple of days so our wood pile is going down, but we think we’ll have enough to last til we move off at the beginning of April.  We’re off skiing next week, which I’m pleased about as I’m getting itchy feet now, having been moored in the same place since 1 December.  Mike has begun planning our route for the summer which makes the feet itch even more!

We did the French thing today and went out for a lovely lunch with Chris and Liz, so I hope some pics of our puddings to make up for the horrible toilet story.

Mike's Passion Fruit and dark chocolate on a bed of fresh nougat.

I have no idea what Chris's was - looks fantastic though!