I broke the steam generator before we had even used it once.
I haven’t told D, because I was so ashamed.
It happened like this:
In an effort to have a welcoming guest suite in time for Christmas (and, let’s face it – I wanted to have a steam shower myself in this inhospitable season), I ordered and picked up a steam generator in November. With plenty of coaxing, I managed to get our recalcitrant plumber to install the little unit under the stairs. Then, our electrician came by to bring power up to it. The plumber stayed around over the next day, preparing to finally hook up our toilets to the rainwater cistern, after many false starts and re-doing over the last year-and-a-half. And, that’s the last we saw of our plumber, in spite of many (successively angrier) phone calls and emails. Here’s what the yard looks like (and why the plumber has created a safety hazard on our walkway for the past two months):
The full-height glass shower door was installed a few days before guests arrived. I thought that, even though the shower itself wasn’t hooked up, we could at least sweat it out in the steam room and pour water over ourselves. So, I checked that the breakers on the electrical panel were on, then turned on the timer. One minute… Two minutes… No evidence of steam. And then I heard a clunk and smelled a smell. (You know that smelling a smell is a scientific way of identifying problems, don’t you?)
I immediately turned off the unit, and a shot of adrenalin blew into my head. I just knew that I had done something wrong. Then, I read the instructions. (I know, I know, you don’t need to say it.) The instructions said that warranty is void if the unit is turned on before the water supply tap is opened. Sure enough, the water supply wasn’t turned on.
I waited a few minutes for any heating element to cool down, THEN I turned on the water supply. Turned on the timer/switch again, and, happily, listened to the steam vent hiss. But, no steam, then “clunk!” It turned itself off.
Lucky I was alone at the time, because I wouldn’t have wanted anyone to know what I’d done.
I shoved the problem to the back of my mind, where it has niggled at me for more than a month. Today, I called the supplier, Leisure Baths in Burnaby, and confessed what I had done. I needed to know what to do to fix the problem, and assumed I would have to remove the unit and bring it to town to have the element replaced at my expense.
Jonathan, the technician, was as good as those gods who walk me through internet problems: patient, calm, appearing to be able to see exactly what I was seeing, and not talking down to me.
First, we took a look at the electrical. At one point he asked if I had a volt-meter. I said we had one somewhere, and I would find it. When I finally found it and opened its case, a feeling of “I can’t do this” washed over me.
It was a complicated-looking gadget that I have always let D handle. After all, he wired our first home all by himself (and it passed inspection). I am nervous about anything electrical. But, Jonathan told me exactly how to use it, and when I tested the contacts, no circuit appeared to be functioning, thus validating my assumption that I had blown an element. But, he said that there is an over-ride switch that turns off the power if no water is getting in, so unless some wire is fried (which it isn’t), electrical should be fine! Then, I noticed that I hadn’t pushed the black plug all the way in on the multimeter. When I did that, it proved that the unit was still getting power! (Happy Dance.)
But, when I turned on the water again, and then the timer/switch, no steam. Jonathan just kept on calmly trouble-shooting with me. “See that blue water connector with the brass hose bib? Unscrew the bib. BUT, first turn off the water supply! What kind of washer is in there?” “Well,” said I, “It doesn’t look like a washer at all, but a flat disk with a tiny hole in the middle.”
“I think that’s our problem,” said Jonathan. “There were two different washers included. The plumber was supposed to use the ring-shaped one that is just like a regular hose washer. Take that one out and replace it with a regular washer.”
The round black washer with the tiny hole in it is the wrong one. A regular hose washer is now inside the hose fitting.
I did that (only 1 small soaking when I had it on crooked.) Turned on the water and THEN the switch/timer.
And, glory be, the steam head hissed, AND real-live steam came out!!! Look:
So, I learned some valuable lessons:
1. Read instructions thoroughly.
2. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
3. Don’t be afraid to try new tools, especially after getting a tutorial and/or reading instructions. Read about the last time I learned to use a tool that I was afraid of, here.
4. Professional tradespeople make mistakes, too.
5. The Relax-A-Mist steam generator is well-designed, to withstand the abuse of incompetent users and tradespeople.
Now, if you’re still reading, you may be asking yourself “What does all this have to do with building green?”
Truth is, not so much. But, consider this: I am just an ordinary person who is building a green home. I’m not formally trained in anything except Home Economics and design. I am organized and persistent and can do some pretty good research.
The purpose of this blog is to help anyone who is interested in building green gain insight into the mechanics, technicalities, philosophy, costs, and processes involved. I want to make it easier for people to build the way we all should be building (OK, preachy, I know.) I wish I had such a blog to read before we started this project 2.5 years ago. I have approached this massive task as an ignorant person who can be stubborn and get things done, sometimes by myself. In these pages you can read about all my relevant research and far too many mistakes. I hope it will encourage anyone to be courageous and try new things.
And, by the way, I looked up the current Hydro rates and calculated how much it costs to run the steam shower for 30 minutes. $0.29! (and that’s at the higher BC Hydro “step.”) So, not such an energy hog as you might expect.
